#might do something more in depth with his looks but idk

[angellwingss]

Wasn’t going to go on a big rant but you know what since that other post is gaining traction yeah I think I will. So big long rant under the cut. Lolll

I feel like. A lot of people might tell me ‘it’s not that deep’ but to me it is that deep.

I don’t have a problem with JayVik or it’s shippers like. At all. I just think some of them are à really good demonstration of like. Every bad thing when it comes to fandom ever LMAO.

Once again I am (supposed to be) writing a whole big long essay about this already so I will try and keep this kind of short and sweet and it might be a bit lacking but wtvr.

I think a lot of JayVik fans tend to be white queer people. Someone left a tag on my OG post that said basically ‘my take is I’m a faggot and I don’t have to care about a character if I don’t want to’ and no hate to that person cuz you’re right, but this is exactly the kind of stuff that made me make that first post.

I feel like a lot of white queer people have an issue with seeing outside their own identity? If that makes sense? This is seen time and time again with the way some of them behave when big movements happen online, some have a tendency to centre themselves and whatnot so i think it’s kind of the same thing.

It makes total sense that a queer person would prefer queer ships and would prefer JayVik over MelJay, that is not a crime. But I do think part of that is because they can’t relate/identify with Mel or see themselves in her like they can with Jayce or Viktor.

I hate to also make it about feminism but i think a lot of you guys are super like. Male centred, like just in your attraction which once again, not the issue not a crime. But i think it’s also why CaitVi, which is a canon queer ship, although popular is still not quite as popular as JayVik despite being canon. Women fetishizing gay men in fandom is not something new, which I think might play a small part in it- I’ve seen a lot of people especially back in s1 infantilizing Viktor and acting like he had no agency or independence and that he NEEDS Jayce to take care of him (that’s another thing. Ableism(looks at you with my eyes)) and they also do the same thing with Jayce where they act like he had 0 agency with any decisions he makes and that he’s like a big dumb baby who doesn’t know anything politics. Hey, guys. That’s a grown man.

My main issue isn’t that people prefer JayVik over MelJay it’s just that some shippers demonize Mel to an insane degree, blame her for getting in the way of their ship (this is also happening right now with Maddie- there’s a leak going around saying that she gets with Caitlyn and people are so upset that this character is getting some INSANE hate and I feel like that’s the same thing going on.)

they blame her for ‘stealing’ Jayce etc etc like. Idk. You don’t have to ship MelJay but I wish more people would appreciate Mel just as a character- imo she is super interesting and has a great story but she’s only ever seen and ‘the other woman’. I’ve seen people say she isn’t like, well characterized and that her story entirely revolves around Jayce which. Yeah she’s definitely heavily involved with him in s1 but she’s clearly got a lot more going on than just that and you would know that if you GAF 🗣️🗣️

for just being. Who she is. I think Mel deserves more attention just in the fandom and it’s just frustrating. People making memes about Jayce going insane over Viktor leaving but like. Mel also just got fucking kidnapped guys. His lover has just vanished without a trace why is nobody also talking about that !!!! Why can’t he care about both these people at the same time !!!!!!!

Anyway I’m not nearly well equipped enough to talk more in-depth about like. Any of this but I do think the demonization of Mel and refusal to see her relationship with Jayce as it is can often times be boiled down to racism like straight up. And also things like the fetishization of gay men in fandom and just things like that are sometimes what can lead to female characters- even the well written ones to be shelved and pushed aside in favour of their male counterparts.

Obligatory ‘not all JayVik fans’ obviously a lot of you are awesome, shouldn’t have to say this. If I’m not aiming for you, you shouldn’t be getting shot.

[t-u-i-t-c]

sasuke & casual looks

[steakout-05]

staffy expectations vs staffy reality (by someone who has an absolute sweetheart of an american staffy <3)

[arklay]

have a diana comm in progress again 🥰

[m1sa-w1sa]

hay so I was just wondering if you would do a sahsrau where all the PC's (playable characters) are obsessed with reader but when reader gets inside of hsr they are Immediately captured and sold as a slave and the PC's (maybe topaz or himko) fine the reader recognize the reader and all hell breaks lose for who idk

Also if I can can I be a emoji anon (if yes then I'll be 👹 anon)

Forgive us!

Sahsrau x Reader

Tw: Yandere themes, Mentioning ofAbuse ( not going in depth ), NOT PROOFREAD Death/Lil Describing of gore, I am aware that there might be two more mew characters, but they won’t be included becuase I don’t know them all to well at the moment!

I do not support people that think they are ‘ real yanderes ‘ or act on any of the things mentioned, if you do or think about these things please get professional help

A/N: Ty for requesting! I have a lot so they are a little slow but they are still all going to get to! And I’m happy to call you👹 Annon!

•You started playing Hsr when it first came out, you loved the designs and a characters! •But they certainly loved you back! I mean why wouldn’t they? Your just a sweetheart to them! •Kafka and Silver wolf the first ones knowing feeling your presence, hearing your soft voice complimenting them •Next, The Trailblazer, March 17, and Dan Heng knew next then Hiyoko and welt then so and so on •The characters you gotten is when they knew you were there, they KNEW you were with them •They heard your worried voice when one of them is low on health, apologizing over and over •Gepard and March 17 always try to make their shields better, Bailu and Natasha try’s to heal as much as they could, Hiyoko and welt trying to make you proud •Huohuo try’s to be more brave for you, Dr. Ratio always does harder in his studies •Serval playing her best at concerts in your honor, Clara makes sure she prays to you every day •They worshiped you like no other, every place had this one single law ‘ Don’t hurt the divine one.. ‘ •Simple, right? Wrong. When you got transferred to the game you were about to walk around, until a cloth was over your mouth •You woke up in a cage, weak, scrunched up like a dog curled in its own bed as you groaned ‘ She will make us a whole lot of money… ‘ We just can’t get caught.. ‘ ‘ You worry to much… ‘ •2 Women and one Man you heard, one of them pulling you out, throwing you at the wall as you fall down with a loud ‘THUMP!’ •They burned you, cut you, broke bones hardly fed you, blood all over your body •You were hosted at one of the prizes at a auction, Himiko and Welt was there as she looked around, her eyes spotted you, weak, legs shaking (Not what YOU think…) your body bruised, burned, painted with cuts and scratches •Welt quickly saw aswell, his eyes widened, Their grace… Abused like an object..? Slowly golden blood leaked from your forehead, you gotten more dizzy last thing you heard was a stern voice

‘ 1 Million Credits! ‘ •They took you back, not even paying the fee, but, your their god, their CREATOR, your more than just some stupid credits.. •March 17 stayed at the astral express with you, word got out about what happened… everyone was FURIOUS •Bailu, Loucha, and Natasha going to the express to try to help heal your wounds and to keep watch •Clara and Savorog keeping watch outside the room, Argenti, Archeon, Blade, Dr. Raito going to hunt the people down •Jing Yuan and Imbibitor Lunae, Figuring out the gruesomeness ways to make the people suffer •Kafka and Jingilu doing most of the dirty work, blood splattered everywhere •You woke up at so many people by your side it was overwhelming, Being able to talk to your characters made you smile, something you didn’t do in a long while •They are so sorry for not being there for your proper descent, they will do any for your forgiveness your grace

[ghostgirl101]

Being In A Relationship With Feyd-Rautha Would Be Like This...

A/N: Yes yesss, I'm back from the deepest depths of the dead, finals kicked my ass earlier but now its almost october and I'll burn any exam paper I see from this moment onwards 😀 don't even question why I used this gif, it pretty much summarises the whole headcanon lmao🖤so enjoy it and lmk if you want to be added to the taglist thing at the end. Keep in mind that requests are not open currently, as I'm catching up with ones already in my inbox for Dune and other dark fandoms.

Warnings: Kind of dark themes, mid violence.. it's Feyd Rautha, idk what to tell you 😐

Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎

☠︎︎• You got yourself into some weird territory with this one 😵‍💫

☠︎︎• If you're expecting any semblance of stability and pure romance, then I'd turn and run for the Dunes to find Paul instead, because this Harkonnen doesn't have an ounce of level sanity in him, and the amount of spiking tension you'll have to cope with on a daily basis is enough to give anyone a literal heart attack 💀💀

☠︎︎• My guesses are that you were introduced to Feyd-Rautha as either a pretty young Bene Gesserit girl chosen to weave her way into his life to continue the bloodline, or he liked the look of you when he was off-world in one instance to look over Spice production with his uncle, and took you back as a trophy because he liked the look of you. So lucky you. 🙃

☠︎︎• This boy is an absolute sadist and an unpredictable unhinged mess, so there's a lot to get used to, and even when you do get used to things, it could all flip and spin just as quickly. It would take a hell of a time to truly understand Feyd-Rautha enough to predict him one hundred per cent and longer to have his trust that you won't run off or try betraying him.

☠︎︎• There's definitely a kind of dangerous allure to him that he uses to his advantage, a smug grin on his face when he enters the arenas, most likely to make kills in your name. It wouldn't be a massive surprise if you became some figure in Giedi Prime to sacrifice the dead to, like some kind of goddess of the kill (ik that sounds dramatic as hell, but i see it happening .-.)

☠︎︎• Feyd-Rautha is absolutely not used to the concept of looking out for anyone other than himself, or feeling anything close to respect and love for anyone other than himself. So the relationship he forces between you and him is a shaky and slow-burning bond that works in its own weird ways and quirks, and adapts to him and him only, so there are a lot of adjustments to be made on your end. Because even though Feyd isn't sensitive in the general sense, he's majorly unpredictable, and one wrong word could set him off. Just, tread carefully in the early days.

☠︎︎• If you want affection in any other way than corpses and bruising hickies, it may take a little while, because he has no idea how to pull that kind of gentleness off, and doesn't necessarily want to either. But if it's something that'll get you to submit to his hold over you more, then he'll come round to it, and when there's absolutely no one else in the area, you might get some actual, genuine passion, though there's always a part of it mixed in with some darker conflict in him.

☠︎︎• If you want attention from him, you've got it anyway. Feyd has his own form of attachment, pretty much an obsession, but it's always tangled in with his desire to dominate and possess. It's a suffocating relationship and tipped-scales dynamic, and the only way you can really get him to see your side of things is by wording it in ways that'll make it sound like it was his idea in the first place, and that the reason is because it'll feel better for him.

☠︎︎• Needless to say, if you're a little firmer and have a dark side to you (i'll make a safe bet that you do if you want this guy x_x) this Harkonnen is a thrill seeker to the extreme, someone always looking to feel something new and raw and insatiable, like the sharpest peaks of ecstasy and adrenaline, so will he try out new stuff with you even though it sounds mental and freaky and dangerous? That's a rhetorical question.

☠︎︎• Despite all the bloodshed and his ruthless havoc in the arenas, taking lives and living for the pain of it, believe it or not, Feyd is actually vulnerable in the least suspecting way. He doesn't have an emotional connection with anyone, because he's an unhinged psycho amongst a crowd of pale unhinged psychos who expect nothing less (and.. have you watched the film?? It's confirmed that this dude has mummy issues, so... i'm just saying, look at this hc's front gif 😏)

☠︎︎• If we're talking romance and affection, just think intense. Intense intense intense, because that's the best way to describe it. His hugs are breathtakingly tight and forcefully smothering, and he doesn't kiss, he full-on makes out with you. Public or not doesn't matter, it's just an opportunity to mark you as his in front of an audience, and he'll gladly perform, so suck up your shyness.

☠︎︎• Thinking of pet names, I see Feyd-Rautha calling you either by just your true first name and having everyone else address you just by your general title, or using other typical nicknames he'd use with satisfied smirks and lingering looks. Maybe his dearest darling, because you're higher than the pets he feeds and used before you (apparently they're called harpies??!? idk what the heck lol) I don't see him saying my love or honey unless he's just being a jackass in an argument, because I'm betting my life savings this boy only eats bitter things, and he sure as hell can't define love like you can.

☠︎︎• Feyd comes across as pretty dominant in everything he does, which is right, and even if it's you questioning him, he'll throw a dangerous fit that escalates within a second no one sees, so, again you have to be clever with the way you word things. You physically and mentally cannot be independent with Feyd-Rautha, because he'll break that spirit right out of your soul. Would he physically hurt you? Not badly, no, but just don't push him, because he'll lash out without a second thought in the moment of impulse.

☠︎︎• Again with the independence, another thing that stops you from getting any is how absolutely suffocatingly obsessive he can get, which turns on his possessiveness. You're essentially an extension of himself, something that's peaceful and pure and perfect in so many ways he'll never understand and will always pull your mind apart to try to. So if any other skulking Harkonnen looking to impress you by challenging Feyd himself or devoting a kill in the arena to you, has immediately chosen the slowest, most humiliating death, that you'll probably be tied down to watch -_-

☠︎︎• And if he can tell in even the smallest way that you're drawn to someone aside from him, there's a chance you'll be kept locked up in his chambers for a month or two with no servants, nothing breathing at all permitted to trespass except him, until he's satisfied and you have him wrapped around your finger again. And that means you can get him to do practically anything if it benefits him and draws you closer, like a kill.. to maybe even destroying a whole planet, it's not impossible for him. Once he has his mind set on something, he's a hunter, he's found his target, and he'll go wild until he destroys it.

☠︎︎• He's protective in the way that he will not let you die, or get hurt in any way by any person other than him. If another Harkonnen draws your blood in the tiniest scratch, or hurts your feelings in some way, Feyd will use that as an excuse to wring their necks. You're his to look at and admire and dress up and be close to and make you feel things, so anyone else daring to step up beside you will get knocked down and fed to his darlings. The only time you'll actually see him being doting and surprisingly, cautiously gentle is when he's healing a wound without the audience of any nurses or outside help, an uncharacteristic and uncomfortable silence in the air as he concentrates and gets you back to rights.

☠︎︎• The moments where he'll allow himself to be truly close to you go unspoken, like in the cold hard nights of Geidi Prime, where he pulls you up from your bed and tugs you down the short dark corridor to dump you in his own instead, with nothing else but the need to feel smotheringly close to someone who understands how his mind works. You'll remind him of his mother, and that's all good, so long as you stay by him and with him always, because if you take the opportunity to turn and run, don't let him catch you in the act. There's a 50/50 chance he'll keep you in his rooms for the rest of the relationship, or just straight-up kill you and take in your memories and mind to possess you that way ._.

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Next Week's Fanfic: Headcanons for a love triangle between you, Feyd-Rautha and Paul Atreides 😎😎 ⊹˚₊‧───────────────────────────────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @milaeth @ennycutie @nckcn @void21 @leighta @williamtt33 @deathsimp @tatumrileyslover @beebumbo @the-dark-dreamer25 @lilepad @skboo @keicdcat @1950schick @reggiesmoon @velosrantipole @yoonessa @anonymjuni @saturnhas82moons @xlxnq @frickyea-guacamole19 @meowmeeps @chalklate

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DUNE MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ MAIN MASTERLIST

[moonselune]

Hey! Big fan of your work, would you ever do a hurt / comfort fic or snippet for the BG3 boys (rolan included maybe?) for durge after receiving the information / memories of what happened with Kressa Bonedaughter?

https://x.com/bhaalsprincess/status/1806146510930792898?s=46

sorry idk if the link works :(

For this we are going to pretend that Rolan is part of your party, also I realised after I got half way through that I wrote it as the boys hurt/comfort rather than durge hurt/comfort 😅 Hope you still like it tho <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s voice resonates in your mind like a chill wind cutting through the remnants of the day’s warmth. You remember her eyes glinting with unsettling affection as she recounted the memories of your shared past.

That night, you sit by the campfire, the flames casting dancing shadows around you. The others have retired, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The crackling of the fire is a comforting, familiar sound, but it does little to ease the strange unease that Kressa’s words have stirred within you.

Gale approaches, his footsteps soft on the grass. He sits beside you, his presence a steady, comforting weight. For a while, he says nothing, simply watching the flames. Then, he turns to you, and you see the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me it was bothering you?" he asks, his voice choked with emotion.

You look at him, surprised. "Gale, I told you, I don't remember any of it. It doesn't bother me."

"But it bothers me," he says, the tears spilling over. "The thought of what you went through… what she did to you… It tears me apart inside."

You reach out, taking his hand in yours. "Gale, it's in the past. I survived. I'm here now, with you. That’s all that matters."

He shakes his head, his grip tightening around your hand. "No, it's not that simple. The pain, the suffering—you shouldn't have had to endure any of it. And the fact that you don't remember… It scares me. What else might be lurking in your past? What other horrors did you endure?"

His tears fall freely now, and seeing him like this, so vulnerable, breaks something inside you. You pull him into your arms, holding him tightly as he cries against your shoulder.

"It's alright," you whisper, your own voice trembling. "I'm alright. You don't have to cry for me."

"I can't help it," he murmurs, his words muffled against your shoulder. "I love you, and the thought of you in pain… It hurts so much."

You hold him close, rocking slightly, the fire crackling softly beside you. The weight of his emotions, the depth of his love—it grounds you in a way you hadn't realized you needed.

"I'm here now," you say again, more firmly this time. "And I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His tears have left tracks down his cheeks, and his eyes are red, but there's a fierce determination in his gaze.

"I know," he says, his voice steadier now. "But promise me something. If you ever remember… if those memories ever come back… don't face them alone. Come to me. Let me help you."

You nod, the sincerity in his eyes making it impossible to refuse. "I promise."

He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, the world feels right again. As you sit by the fire, holding each other, you feel a sense of peace. The past may be dark and filled with pain, but the present, with Gale’s love, it shines brightly enough to keep the shadows at bay.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

You return to camp, your body exhausted but your mind buzzing with fragments of memories and emotions, stirred up by the wicked Kressa's words. As you approach the campfire, you see Astarion pacing around it, his movements agitated and furious. His usually composed demeanor is shattered, replaced by a storm of emotions. He looks up as you approach, his eyes blazing with anger.

"How dare she," he spits, his voice trembling with rage. "How dare she do that to you!"

You raise an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on your lips. "Astarion, I don't even remember it. It's like hearing a story about someone else."

His fury only intensifies at your nonchalance. "A story about someone else?" he repeats incredulously. "It was you! She tortured you and you act like it doesn't matter!"

You can’t help but be amused by his passion, which only serves to infuriate him further. "Astarion, it's in the past. I can't remember it, so it doesn't affect me."

He stops pacing and steps closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "It affects me," he says through gritted teeth. "The thought of you suffering like that… it's unbearable. I wish I could kill her all over again, make her pay for every moment of pain she put you through."

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. "But she's gone, Astarion. We defeated her. It's over."

His muscles are tense under your touch, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You don't get it," he says, his voice softer but still filled with anger. "I care about you. I can’t just brush it off like you can."

You squeeze his arm gently, feeling the tension slowly ebbing away. "I know you care," you say, your voice gentle. "And I appreciate it more than you know. But right now, what I need is to focus on the present, on what we can control."

He looks into your eyes, his anger giving way to concern. "And what if those memories come back? What if you start to remember everything she did to you?"

You take a deep breath, the possibility of those memories surfacing a distant, unsettling thought. "If they do, then I’ll deal with it. And I’ll have you by my side to help me through it."

He pulls you into a tight embrace, his earlier anger dissolving into a protective, fierce love. "Always," he murmurs into your hair. "I’ll always be here for you."

You hold him close, the warmth of his body grounding you. "Thank you, Astarion. For caring so much."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. "You deserve to be cared for," he says firmly. "You deserve to be protected from monsters like her."

You smile, touched by his words and the depth of his feelings. "And you deserve to find peace, too. We both do."

"Yes," He nods, his expression softening. "Yes, we do."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s words echo in your mind long after the battle has ended. Her disturbing attachment to you, the tales of relentless experiments, and her twisted pride in your resilience—these are things you can’t fully grasp due to the dark void where your memories should be. But now, she lies defeated at your feet, her body a testament to the horrors she wrought.

As you take a moment to catch your breath, you notice Wyll standing over her body. His face is a mask of rage, and his sword rises and falls in a relentless, brutal rhythm. He’s attacking her lifeless form with a fury that is both shocking and heartbreaking.

“Wyll,” you call out, your voice tinged with concern. “She’s dead. It’s over.”

But he doesn’t seem to hear you. His strikes continue, each one more forceful than the last, as if he’s trying to obliterate every trace of her existence. The sound of metal against flesh and bone is sickening, and you can see the wild, almost desperate look in his eyes.

You step closer, your voice firmer. “Wyll, stop. She’s dead!”

Still, he doesn’t respond. It’s as if he’s in a trance, lost in his own world of vengeance and pain. You can’t stand to see him like this, consumed by a rage that threatens to devour him whole. Summoning your strength, you reach out and grab his arm, pulling him back.

“Wyll, look at me!” you shout, your voice cutting through the haze of his fury.

He finally stops, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His eyes are wild, filled with a mix of rage and sorrow. He looks down at Kressa’s mutilated body, then back at you, as if seeing you for the first time.

“She’s dead,” you repeat softly. “It’s over.”

He shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes. “It will never be over. Not after what she did to you.”

You feel a pang of guilt and sorrow. “I don’t remember, Wyll. Whatever she did, it’s gone from my mind.”

“That doesn’t change what happened,” he says, his voice breaking. “It doesn’t change the fact that she tortured you, experimented on you like you were nothing. And you don’t even remember…”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to reach him. “I know it’s horrible, but killing her over and over again won’t change the past. We need to move forward. We need to find your father."

He drops his sword, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I just… I can’t let it go. The thought of you suffering like that… it’s too much.”

You step closer, placing a hand on his arm. “We all carry our burdens, Wyll. But we have to find a way to live with them, not let them destroy us.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, sadness, and something softer—concern, perhaps, or even love. “You’re stronger than you know,” he says quietly. “Stronger than any of us. But I can’t help but feel that you shouldn’t have had to be.”

You squeeze his arm gently. “Thank you, Wyll. For caring so much. But we have to keep moving forward. Together.”

He nods slowly, the fire in his eyes dimming but not extinguished. “You’re right. We can’t let the past dictate our future. But I promise you this—I will never let anyone hurt you like that again.”

“I believe you,” you say, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “And I appreciate it, my love.”

With a final look at Kressa’s lifeless body, Wyll steps back, his breathing finally beginning to steady. The rage that had consumed him ebbs away, replaced by a weary resolve.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Kressa Bonedaughter’s twisted affection for your resilience, her pride in your endurance through countless experiments—these revelations hang over you like a dark cloud. Though the memories she described are shrouded in the void left by your lost past, they disturb you in ways you can’t quite articulate.

Back at camp, you notice a subtle shift in Halsin’s behavior. He hovers close to you, his eyes constantly scanning your surroundings, as if expecting danger to strike at any moment. When you sit by the fire, he sits beside you, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders. His presence is a comforting weight, but there's an intensity in his gaze that wasn’t there before.

That night, as you lie in your bedroll, you sense Halsin’s watchful eyes on you. You turn slightly, peeking through your lashes, and confirm your suspicion—he’s sitting nearby, his eyes fixed on you, his expression a mix of worry and determination. This has been happening every night since the encounter with Kressa, and it’s starting to wear on you.

After a while, you decide you can't ignore it any longer. You sit up, your eyes meeting his. “Halsin, why are you watching me sleep?”

He starts, clearly caught off guard, and then sighs deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, my heart, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” you say softly. “I’ve noticed you doing this for a few nights now. Why?”

Halsin’s shoulders sag slightly, and he moves to sit closer to you, his hand reaching out to take yours. “After what Kressa said, about what she did to you, I just… I can’t stop thinking about it. About the pain you must have endured.”

You squeeze his hand gently. “But I don’t remember any of it, Halsin. It’s just a story to me.”

“To you, maybe,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “But to me, it’s a nightmare I can’t shake. The thought of you being hurt, experimented on like that… it’s unbearable. I feel like I failed you, even though I wasn’t there.”

“Halsin, you couldn’t have done anything. You didn’t even know me then.”

“That doesn’t change how I feel now,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “I love you. And the idea of you being in pain, of suffering alone… I can’t bear it.”

You’re touched by the depth of his feelings, but also concerned. “Halsin, you can’t keep watching over me like this. You need to rest too. We both do.”

He nods slowly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I know. It’s just… difficult. I want to protect you. To make sure you’re safe.”

“I appreciate that more than you know,” you say, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “But we need to find a balance. We can’t let the past, even one I don’t remember, control our present.”

He returns your kiss, his touch warm and reassuring. “You’re right,” he murmurs against your lips. “I just… I care so much. Sometimes it feels overwhelming.”

You rest your forehead against his, your eyes closing as you take comfort in his presence. “We’ll get through this together. But promise me you’ll try to sleep tonight.”

He hesitates for a moment, then nods. “I promise. But if you ever feel uneasy, if you ever remember anything, please tell me. Let me be there for you.”

“I will,” you promise, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. “And thank you, my heart. For everything.”

You settle back into your bedroll, and this time, Halsin lies down beside you, holding you close. His presence is a shield against the darkness, and as you drift off to sleep, you feel a sense of peace, knowing that you’re not alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

As you make your way back to camp, you notice Rolan off to the side, his usually poorly hidden irritated demeanour now replaced with visible irritation. He’s pacing, muttering to himself, his expression dark and brooding. You approach him cautiously, sensing that something is deeply troubling him.

“Rolan, love,” you say gently, “is everything alright?”

He stops and looks at you, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “No, everything is not alright,” he snaps, his voice sharper than usual.

You’re taken aback by the intensity of his reaction. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his agitation palpable. “It’s what that…that monster did to you,” he says, his voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “The things she said, the things she did. It’s… it’s unbearable.”

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Rolan, I don’t remember any of it. It’s like it happened to someone else. I’m fine, really.”

“Fine?” he echoes incredulously, his eyes narrowing. “You think you’re fine because you don’t remember it? That doesn’t change the fact that it happened! That you were tortured, experimented on like some… some animal!”

You can feel the frustration boiling inside him, the helplessness he feels. “Rolan, I understand that it’s upsetting, but—”

“No, you don’t understand!” he interrupts, his voice rising. “You can’t understand because you don’t remember! But I do. I heard her. I saw the look in her eyes when she talked about what she did to you. And it makes me sick.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, trying to ground him. “I know it’s hard, but we defeated her. She can’t hurt anyone anymore. And I have you and the others to help me through whatever comes next.”

He looks at you, his expression softening just a bit, but the anger still simmering beneath the surface. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of you suffering like that. Of anyone hurting you.”

Your heart aches for him, for the pain he’s feeling on your behalf. “Rolan, I appreciate how much you care. It means a lot to me. But we have to focus on the present, on what we can control. And right now, we’re together, and we’re safe.”

He takes a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “I know. It’s just… hard to let go of the anger. To think about what you went through.”

You squeeze his arm gently. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

He looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and finally nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just… it’s hard.”

You smile softly. “I know. And it’s okay. We all have our breaking points. But we’ll support each other, no matter what.”

He pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. “Thank you. For understanding. For being here.”

You hold him close, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “Always."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Oof this was a lot, my poor babies, who would put you through such a thing (it was me, I did, and I'll do it again)

Hope y'all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

[deanscherrypie420]

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

A/N: Hi guys! I promised another Sam fic so HERE WE ARE! This idea was originally for Dean, but I figured it would work for Sammy too. I tweaked it a little bit once I saw this GIF because OMG idk its just so cute. ENJOY <3

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader Y/N, Dean Winchester, Crowley

Pairing: Sam Winchester X Reader

Warnings: Demon!Reader, arguing, mild violence, guns, alcohol, biting, fluff, supernatural stuff, nerds, physical affection.

Summary: After the Winchester brothers barge into Crowley's lair, they meet you. You're already in a bad mood and they don't help. You can't help but notice the taller one, how attractive he is. After going to the bunker with them, you find yourself in an unexpected situation.

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"I have never once gotten myself in danger! Why won't you let me do this?" Y/N screamed at the man in front of her. Crowley was like a father to her. He took her in from the depths of hell when she was little, turning her into the little princess of hell.

"Hunters get hurt. They die, all the time. Is that really something you want for yourself?" He questioned, crossing his hands in his lap. He was staring down at her from his throne and this irked her. She didn't like being talked down to, especially not by Crowley. She was not going to be treated like one of his servants.

"You are ridiculous. I am more than capable of killing a few monsters. I'm a mini you, for hell's sake!" He just shook his head and sighed. "I said no, Y/N. Do not make me repeat myself."

Y/N felt her jaw tick, her eyes quickly flicking to black, a low red glow illuminating from the corners. She wasn't a normal demon. After being with Crowley, she evolved into a different being.

Her arm stuck out and she flung him across the room, earning a loud groan from not only him but two new men. She snapped her head around and walked backwards towards the throne, claiming her rightful seat upon it.

"Did we interrupt something?" The shorter one chuckled as he nudged Crowley with his foot. The older man grunted and pushed himself off the ground. "Get out, Winchesters. We are having a family discussion."

The taller one glanced over at you, and his brother hooted. "Wow, a new wife? This one's a little young, don't ya think?" Her eyes widened and she instinctively slammed him against the wall. "He is like my father, you indolent pig!"

"Right, my bad." He choked out and the giant stepped forward. "Let him go." He said as he pulled out a blade. She just laughed, looking over at Crowley. He gave her a nod and she huffed, releasing the man from her hold.

"Well, aren't you a bundle of sunshine." He scoffed as he brushed himself off. She glared at him and he put his hands up in defense, making the taller one laugh quietly.

"Look, Crowley, we need your help. Difficult demon hunt." He explained as his brother still tried to compose himself. Crowley shook his head, an amused look on his face. "Very funny, Sam. Run along, you two aren't getting help here."

"Actually, Sam, you might. What do you need help with?" Y/N announced quickly, rising from the seat and stepping forward. "Uh... Just with some research, I really don't think you-" Sam started but Crowley cut him off. "You aren't helping, Y/N. Go to the back room, now."

"What's your name?" She asked the shorter man, ignoring the king completely. "Dean. This is my brother." He grinned, growing a liking to the young woman. Sam cleared his throat and looked down at her, "I would listen to your, uh, dad."

The older man nodded and gestured towards the doorway behind her. She shook her head and smiled up at him, an innocent look in her beautiful Y/E/C eyes. "I'm a big girl, Sam. He can't control me." She moved closer to him, standing nearly a foot away.

"He's the king of hell, the hell you mean he doesn't control you?" Dean questioned, disbelief mounting his features. She glanced over at him, her eyes morphing into dark pits enclosed by a ruby glow. "I'm the princess of hell. I have more power than you think, Winchester."

Sam stepped back, his brows furrowing as he lips flattened into a line. "Don't worry, I don't bite. I want to help." She blinked her eyes back to normal and grinned at the brothers.

"Y/N! What did I tell you!" Crowley shouted, using his powers to throw her to the floor. She hissed and got up, her eyes glowing brighter than they had before. "I swear to God, I will carve out your fucking eyes." She spat as she tossed him against a wall, her fingers closing tighter, slowly crushing his internal organs.

Sam rushed to her side and tried pulling her back, but she just kept going, slowly walking towards the king. When she reached him, her hand wrapped around his throat, a low growl escaping her. "I'm becoming a hunter, whether you like it or not."

Sam gripped her shoulder, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "He's not stopping you, let's go. You're alright." He soothed, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Her brain stuttered, her force relaxing as her eyes shifted. "Fine." She stated simply before letting go of Crowley completely and storming out of the building.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had stopped at a diner before heading home to the bunker, all of them chatting and story-telling. The waitress came by to take their orders and she looked Y/N up and down, a look of distaste forming across her face.

"Well, you have an interesting fashion choice." The older woman spoke. Y/N bit her tongue, trying to remind herself that this was a conservative town and her outfit was very provocative. "Thanks, Hun. Anyway, I'd like-" The woman cut her off and put a hand on her hip.

"I'm just saying, young lady. That is a very immodest outfit. If I didn't know better, I'd think you work on the streets." Her southern drawl only made Y/N more irritated. Dean tried holding back a laugh, his beer nearly shooting out of his mouth.

"And I think you belong in a nursing home. Don't worry, hell has great hosts. I'd like some fries, please." She punctuated her statement with a flash of her eyes, the action earning a quiet gasp from Sam and roar of laughter from his brother.

"C-coming right up." The waitress murmured before skittishly running off, retreating to the back of the diner. "Damn, little lady. Didn't know you were that feisty!" Dean teased and she rolled her eyes. "Didn't know you were that reckless." Sam muttered and she sighed.

"Sammy, we're fine. What is she gonna do, call a priest on me?" Dean snickered some more. "You should really be more careful - for your safety." Sam warned, his brows knitted together.

"Awh, you care about me!" She cooed, a sarcastic undertone lacing her words. "We only just met, Sammy. We aren't that committed yet."

He shook his head and stared her down, his eyes so full and bright. "Those are the cutest puppy dog eyes ever." She added before kissing his cheek and excusing herself to the bathroom.

"Sammy's got a girlfriend..." Dean whispered in a sing-song voice, causing Sam to kick him under the table.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam was researching in the library, books sprawled out on the desk in front of him. He was fiddling with a pen in his hands, a concentrated look on his face as he jotted down a few things on a notepad.

"Whatcha writing, Sammy?" Y/N asked. She was sitting on a bar above him, the ceiling only a few feet away from her head. Her legs dangled mindlessly in the air as she studied him.

He raised a brow and looked up at her. "What are you doing up there, Princess?" He questioned back, slouching back a bit in his chair. "Watching you." She responded with a huge smile, her eyes glistening in the bunker light.

"Why don't you come down from there, yeah?" He offered, patting his thigh gently as an invitation. She giggled and bit her lip, leaning forward. Her hands slid beneath the cool metal and grasped the edge behind her.

She swung downwards, hanging there for a minute before dropping to the ground. "If you insist." She danced her way over, her hands meeting his shoulders as she crawled into his lap.

He chuckled and his hand began rubbing her back. She nestled her head underneath his chin and skimmed over the pages he was reviewing. Her legs were hunched up, knees level with his upper chest and feet planted on his other thigh.

His free hand gently wrapped around her ankle, his digits resting on the hem of her sock as his thumb traced random patterns on her skin.

She reached over and grabbed his beer bottle, taking a long drag and twirling it between her fingers. "That's mine." He mumbled into her hair, his hand moving from her leg, covering hers as he tried to reclaim the bottle.

"No. I want it." She retorted, trying to move the bottle away. He plugged the top of the bottle with his thumb so it didn't spill, tugging it away from her. "Well, you don't always get what you want."

She huffed and crossed her arms, her elbow digging into his stomach. "I got you." She bickered and he smiled. He set the bottle down on the table and pulled her closer, one arm hooked around her belly.

"I guess you're right, Princess."

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! This one was super fun to write <3 If you liked it, please follow, reblog and comment! All feedback is LOVED.

Send in requests if you have any! :)

[cnnmairoll]

First Kiss

Pairing: Kozume Kenma x Reader Genre: Fluff a/n: day one of me coping with fanfics............. idk how this fic made me feel

You strolled leisurely through the park, hand in hand with Kenma Kozume, your boyfriend of three months. The late afternoon sun bathed the surroundings in a warm golden hue, casting playful shadows on the ground. As usual, you were the one who had initiated the hand-holding, gently intertwining your fingers with his. Kenma didn't resist, but his grip was always tentative, as if he wasn't entirely sure he should be holding on.

"Look at that," you said, pointing to a group of children playing on the playground. "They're having so much fun."

Kenma glanced over, his cat-like golden eyes taking in the scene briefly before returning to the path ahead. He had his portable game console in his other hand, but it was off, a testament to his effort to focus on your time together. "Yeah," he replied softly.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the familiar, comforting warmth of his touch. "You know, you could have fun too, if you let yourself," you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye.

Kenma's lips twitched in a small, shy smile. "I'm having fun," he said, but it was clear he meant it in his own quiet way. He was never one to get overly excited about anything that didn't involve video games or the occasional volleyball match.

"You call this fun? Just walking and holding hands?" you teased again, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

He glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his gaze. "Being with you is fun," he murmured, his voice almost lost in the gentle rustling of leaves.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Kenma wasn't one to express his feelings openly, and such a statement from him was rare and precious. You leaned in closer, feeling bold. "You know, Kenma, if you keep saying things like that, I might think you actually like me," you teased, knowing full well he did.

Kenma stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His expression was as composed as ever, but there was a flicker of determination in his eyes. "I do like you," he said, his voice steady.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden boldness. "Well, that's good to hear," you replied, a playful smile on your lips. "But you know what would be even better?"

Kenma raised an eyebrow, silently prompting you to continue.

"If you showed it more often," you teased lightly, poking his chest. 

Kenma looked down at where your finger had poked his chest, a faint blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks. He was silent for a moment, his mind clearly working through something. You were used to his quiet nature, his way of processing things internally before responding.

"I do show it," he mumbled, almost to himself, his eyes not meeting yours.

You couldn't help but chuckle, leaning in closer. "Oh, really? Is this your way of showing it? Because I think you can do better, Kozume," you teased, knowing how to push his buttons just enough.

Kenma's eyes darted up to meet yours, a rare spark of frustration flickering in their golden depths. "You just don't get it," he muttered, his voice a mix of irritation and embarrassment.

You grinned, feeling a bit triumphant. "Well, then, make me understand," you challenged, stepping closer to him.

Kenma's gaze hardened, his shyness momentarily overshadowed by a surge of determination. He looked around briefly, as if to ensure no one was watching, then took a deep breath. "I'm gonna have to shut your lips with a kiss," he declared, his voice steady but the blush on his cheeks deepening.

Your heart raced at his words. You had teased him like this before, but he had never actually followed through. "Go ahead," you replied, your voice softer now, almost breathless with anticipation.

Kenma stared at you for a heartbeat, his eyes searching yours as if looking for any sign of insincerity. Finding none, he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. You felt the world around you blur, the park, the children, the sunlight—all fading into the background as Kenma leaned in.

His lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was brief, a mere brush of lips, but it sent a shockwave through you, leaving you momentarily stunned. Kenma pulled back slightly, his face mere inches from yours, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.

You blinked, trying to process what had just happened. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your cheeks felt warm, and you were pretty sure your face was as red as his. "Kenma..." you whispered, your voice shaky with emotion.

He bit his lip, his own expression a mix of anxiety and hope. "Was that okay?" he asked quietly, his shyness returning in full force.

You let out a breathy laugh, your hands coming up to cup his face. "More than okay," you replied, leaning in to press another, firmer kiss to his lips. This time, Kenma responded with a bit more confidence, his hands steadying on your waist as he kissed you back.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless and blushing. Kenma's eyes were brighter than you'd ever seen them, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. "I guess I can show it more often," he said softly, his fingers intertwined with yours once again.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the sun. "I'd like that," you replied, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

The two of you continued your stroll through the park, the air between you now filled with a new sense of closeness and understanding. You teased him a bit less, content in the knowledge that Kenma's quiet ways of showing affection were just as meaningful as any grand gesture. And as you walked hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something even more special.

[miyakiwiii]

◇DI KO KAYANG UMIBIG MULI!

Yurp i have filipino genes, (some german genes too but im more filipino) and i felt like writing this cuz why not? And also this song makes me turn in shambles

PAIRINGS: FILIPINO-FEM!READER X KARASU TABITO.

FLUFF? Idk what tags to add lol CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS? Might almost turn into a series,Long fic?

WORD COUNT:1,4k

You were a foreinger from a different country, that moved in japan when you were 7 years old, your mother got a job as a nurse in japan,osaka. Since she took nursing in the past.

resulting to both you and your mother living in japan by now.

You would just call it- japain since children YOUR age had been picking on you- you couldnt even understand some of them since you only knew how to speak english and ofc, your native language.

There was one particular kid at the same age as you- karasu tabito.

Both you had met when you were little kids, he was picked by the other children back in elementary, both you and him were called 'freaks' 'weirdo's' for being.. different from others.

Thats what you both were- and how you both became friends.

You both became friends because you were both different from the rest of them: weirdos, freaks, yeah. Mediocre as you call it too.

He would protect you- in exchange you would protect him back. He was a smart kid- you were too.

Both of you excelled in class, you were always second place, he was first. You both stayed by each others side since that day, like something locking your souls together- or even intertwining your hearts and pressing them together like you both were not meant to leave each other.

Your mom, his mom had always noticed you two being together- of course they were both glad that their children finally had a nice loving friend.

In middle school- you finally learned how to speak japanese, teaching karasu some tagalog, and filipino words too.

Both of you werent meant to be seperated. Well.. atleast you were.

You and him are both in highschool now, seniors and in third years.

Him- 18 you 18, well this is the day that he will regret.

"Hey tabito!" You ran to his direction where he stood- hair all gelled up, beauty mark visible on the right, his eyes shone like bright sapphires, swirling with emotions hidden behind, he was gorgeous.

You, on his view your beauty almost shining bright as the sun- the rays of light hit your face as it gleamed, your voice calling out his name made the insides of his stomach flutter- almost like theres butterflies inside his stomach from always seeing you, seeing you call out his name. Everything about you is what he loves.

He smirked he always does, blinking and looking at you as you panted and gasped for air, standing up and brushing your hands on your skirt.

"Hi [reader],why were ya' rushing? No need to." He says, holding the straps of his bag- putting it behind his back and holding it.. like something.

"Ah! I just thought i was late since my alarm didnt ring." Yeah relatable- but anyways, he chuckled, in result you chuckled, the strap of your bag sliding a little bit off your shoulder.

"Yer' bag." He touched the straps of your bag- touching your shoulder in the process. His touch, even if the clothing blocks the warmth of it, you could almost feel it through, it was nice, you said.

"Oh, uhm thanks." You smiled to him, oh how he loved seeing your smile, he wishes he can paste it into the depths of his brain to see it everyday.

"So, lets walk to school together?" You say. "Of course, we always do." Karasu responds back, both of you now stepping, walking to your school.

"Huh, yeah." You walked, the silence was so loud, akward emotions filled the both of you as you held your arm while walking.

"So uh, have ya' gotten any duo's or partner's in the chesmistry project?" Karau asked, looking at you as you both continued walking.

"Huh? I havent. How 'bout you?" You asked him back, the school gates was near as the sun shone on the metals of the gate.

"No i still dont have anyone partnerin' with me." He says, both you and karasu had arrived at your school- walking forward as the sun shone on the school gates.

The doors were nearby, as you both stood infront of it."Talk to ya' later?" He said, stopping his tracks, looking at you. Eyes filled with wonder hoping that you will respond to him.

"Yeah, talk to you later tabito." You respond as you smiled warmly again, smile counter number two. Atlas, you both entered the school doors, going to opposite hallways, some students we're still chattering- almost like bee's surrounding you.

Karasu- on the other hand. One of his teammates had put their arm in his shoulder, bickering about the next competitions about other schools- and how hes amazing as the captain of their youth team: bambi osaka.

Hiori on the other hand, of course, you knew him. Hes a second year, you both never got classes together due to you being older than him, but you shared a few thoughts, sometimes ate lunch with him and karasu, and also watched their practice in the field while sitting in the bleachers, you also cheered for the both of them in alot of the competitions that rival schools competed that competed with them- almost like you were a goodluck charm because everytime your in it, they win, and you stood out oh-so-clearly in the crowd.

He knew about you and karasu being long-term friends, hiori was almost your second bestfriend,telling him anything, gossiping even!

Time skip.

It was finally break time after the mind breaking- energy consuming subjects had ended.

You were walking around as you saw tabito patiently waiting for you along with hiori, both of them chatting under the tree the three of you guys sometimes talked, about strategies, even though you couldnt understand some parts about what they were talking about.

Karasu turned his head to your direction- almost like he has a sensor for you when you arrive, waving at you and signalling you with his hand to come over.

You rushed to walk over, bento in your hand,sitting on the warm grass beneath as you laid your bento on the grass, rays of light going through the gaps of the tree's as it hits your shoulder, One of them opens their mouth and says-

"What are ya' guys gonna do after class?" Hiori spoke, looking at the both of you, you were seated next to him as long as tabito was in the opposite direction facing you.

"Were going to do the chemistry project."

"Were goin' to do the chem project."

Both of you had said in unison, both of you giggled and hiori was just sweat-dropping besides you.

"Damn alright. Ya'll got really Connected alright." Hiori spoke once again.

"Of course silly, we've been connected ever-since we were both seven years old!" You replied warm-heartedly. Damn hiori must felt like a married couples adopted child with the way you two almost bonded, basically hes like a practice kid for the two of you except you both werent even in a relation ship.

"Yep, almost like we were super-glued to each-otha'." Karasu replied as he nudged your shoulder, both of you laughing once again.

All three of you chatted as you all ate, of course you had opened your bento.

The chattering was stopped once some of hiori, and karasu's teamates had called karasu.

"Yo' karasu! Let us borrow ya' for a sec!" Random guy A said.

"Yeah, also ya' too hiori! Coach might need us for today." Random guy B said. Wow what a suprise ruining the wholesome moment the three of you shared together. Huh.

Its strange at some point.

Both karasu and hiori got accepted into a football-program called 'blue lock.' You were happy for them, but at the same time you felt.. lonely.

No need to worry, its only for a few days, you were strong.

Karasu:

See you soon [name]. Hope you can wait for us both huh? 😉

Hiori:

Yep, agreed with karasu's words for the first time, cya soon name. :)

:Name

Dont make me wait for too long, hope you both can enjoy it! <3

Karasu and hiori reacted a [❤️]

That was their last chat to you, looking back at it made you smile warmly, you kept thinking about karasu, of course.

You watched their match and you see karasu perform, you were dazed by his skills even if he didnt score any goals, he still was really good in the U20 match, they obviously won, and karasu might've noticed you in the bleachers. You screamed and cheered so loud when they won.

Thats when you met karasu's newfound friend- otoya eita. He looked all ninja like, 'why does he have a green streak in his hair? Is it to hide all of his red flags?' Of course, you were correct.

"Yo' mind if i have your number?" Otoya had asked and karasu hit his head with his fist, not too hard, but not too soft.

"She's off limits bro" karasu said, you looked at him sweat dropping and flushed at the same time. Like what do you mean off limits?? Are we dating?

"She's your gf? My bad sorry karasu" otoya had said as karasu had widened his eyes and nudged him using his shoulder.

"Shes my childhood bestfriend, dont'cha say that!" Karasu says as you went more flushed, standing akwardly and fidgeting the toro keychain in your messenger bag.

"My bad, so can i still have her number." Oh how long is this gonna take.

Your head just went left and right, left right right left untill they finally stopped as one of their teamates called out to them.

"Also, sorry for makin' ya' watch, we have a 2-week break, we can spend some time together.. if we can." He says, scratching the back of his head.

You hugged him, he still smells like sweat- of course you were talking to him after the whole ass match.

"Sure, ill be waiting for you and hiori, even if it takes half of my life."

Well it certainly did take some of your life... just kidding.

Tabito had been invited to his blue locker-friends-team, idk antics. It was sad to say that hiori didnt come, but in exchange.. you did. (He forced you to do so.)

Some of his friends though you were his girlfriend- but you were certainly not.

It was in shibuya- a very busy part of japan, all of you guys had fun,especially when him and his friends got to the uh.. bowling ball place? You dont know what to call it.

One of their blue lockian friends, Barou as they call him.

They dueled the U-20, or former u-20 to a match in bowling, you just watched silently in one of the chairs, paying attention to all of his friends, and him having fun. You smiled warmly, his emotions and yours almost sharing.

After that match, and after all of this. It was midnight now, you were both probably exhausted, and riding a train together.

"Did ya' have fun?, sorry if they were turnin a lil bit freaky, thats just how it is." He asks, looking at you with a smile.

"It was both exhausting and fun.." you say, your head slowly laying on his shoulder. He turned a little bit flushed. Looking at you with his eyes, softening. Your lips look kissable right now.

TIME SKIP.

It was the day he was about to depart yet again- going to go back to blue lock. His eyes had met yours, you were smiling back at him.

"So, see you again? Both you and hiori?" You say, voice soft toned but low.

"Yeah, see ya' soon, goodbye [name]." He said, smiling back at you as his sapphire eyes stared at you, filled with longing and desire. He was walking, almost near to the doors of the bus.

"Wait, i forgot to tell ya' this."karasu had turned to your direction, he rushed to your direction and said this.

"Mahal na mahal kita sobra." Means 'i love and love you so much.'

Wait, when did he learn how to speak tagalog?

Seconds later- he pecked a kiss to your lips, flushed by all of what was happening, you touched your lips slowly as he ran to go to the bus.

Hiori who witnessed all of this was behind your back and just blinked, walking to the bus but waving and giving you a goodbye.

"Huh... i didnt even get to say it back." I look at the bus, the bus slowly starting to move.

Moments later- you had screamed back, instead of speaking in tagalog you spoke in japanese and yelled. "I LOVE YOU TOO TABITO!"

Guess I can't fall in love again.

Well except for him, i can always fall inlove again with this crow boy.

I was having seizures when doing rhus

@miyakiwiii WORK! DO NOT REPOST IN OTHER WEBSITES,TRANSLATE,ETC!

[koolades-world]

Can you do headcanons with all the characters of an MC that has scars on their body from maybe a car crash years ago and how they would react to seeing them? Can you also do an MC who’s really insecure about them and tries to hide them?

Please and thank you 🙏🙏🙏🙏

hello! sure thing :)

idk why this one got so long? slight angst warning for belphie's (lesson 16 reference) actually might write belphie's as a drabble! if y'all are interested in seeing the others as drabbles too, let me know!

enjoy <3

Mc who's insecure about scars from a car crash

Lucifer

he didn't think much of it, since he too prefers clothing that covers basically everything, even down to gloves however, the attention to detail came down to how you behaved and the way in which you vehemently avoided any situation in which you'd have to change into something you hadn't selected or needed to wear something more revealing

one late night, you ran into each other in the kitchen, and while he expected it to be beel, raiding the fridge again but he found you crying on the floor

of course, he asked what was wrong, and while at first you didn't say anything, he stayed by your side. when the tears had slowed down and you could speak again, you told him it was the anniversary of the devastating car crash and you confessed how much it took from you

that was the first time lucifer had ever hugged you, and for once, you felt at home in the devildom. for the years to come, he makes sure to spend that entire day with you to make you feel loved

Mammon

he's the first to see them and learn of their existence because of how quickly the two of you grow close. you had many movies nights together where you ended up asleep on his shoulder and he caught glances of the scars

he never asked, but he was forever curious. he wanted to wait for you to tell the story rather than intrude on your privacy, even if that meant he never learnt

eventually after you deliberated with yourself, during one of those movie nights, you turned to him and told him everything after mentally debating

you could tell you'd help satiate his curiosity, but of course he was very sweet about it. he starts coming home with things he knows will make you feel gorgeous and expects nothing in return

Levi

the two of you spend a lot of time gaming, reading, and watching anime together. your favorite characters are said to be a reflection of you, and he noticed that pattern after enough time

now, he wasn't quite sure what to do with that information, how he would even start to go about addressing that, or if it was just him and he was looking into it too much. maybe you just had a certain type you enjoyed, although part of him hoped it wasn't that, because that would mean your type wasn't him

nevertheless, he kept this information to himself and dwelled on it until one night, you brought that very topic up yourself. at first you hesitated, but once he told you to think of it as your "lore" you became more comfortable with the situation and told him

he wasn't quite sure what to say, but offered you comfort. you spent the rest of the night watching your favorite anime and from then on, you got to see this more gentle, loving side of him more often. maybe one day, he'd tell you about his "lore" in depth too

Satan

he felt like the entire situation was something right out of a romance novel, where the two main characters slowly grow closer like the two of you were, and the exchanging of backstory that inevitable happens at some point

but, he didn't expect yours to include something so devastating in nature and how it affected your life in the aftermath. he's amazed at the way you have been healing yourself over the followings years. he admires your strength, and he knows that the scars and accident don't define you

you spent most of your evenings together, either at an outing or just at home together. it was one of these evening sessions by the fireplace together in the living room where the two of you were cuddling, and he noticed them on your shoulders. of course he didn't mention it, but you noticed him looking

since there was nobody else around, you decided to tell him since you would've at some point eventually. he doesn't make a big deal out of it because you didn't, but he lets you know if you ever need someone to talk to, he would be there

Asmo

he noticed that your entire wardrobe, including sleepwear and formalwear was all long sleeve and basically covered you head to toe

to try and get closer to you, he took you shopping and still saw you only picked out things that fit into your current wardrobe despite seriously eyeing several other pieces of clothing that were short sleeved. you didn't get them, but he could tell you wanted them, so as a surprise, he bought all of the items for you and presented it as a gift

through your tears, you thanked him and decided to tell him why you didn't get them. he apologizes profusely, but you tell him it was alright and that one day, you'd wear them

once you're finally closer, you wear one of the short sleeved pajama sets to a sleepover with just him, and he can feel his heart swell with the amount of trust you'd put in his hands. expect to be pampered <333

Beel

while he's not the first to see them, he was the first to catch on to their existence. he's very good with reading your emotions and could easily tell when you were uncomfortable. every time, he saved you from the situation but he was afraid of how you might feel when he wasn't around

the two of you had just gotten done with a jog that ended in a park, where the two of you sat in the grass to relax before headed home. while there, your conversation got rather deep and you ended up discussing thing you never thought might slip out

the manner in which you told him was detached and while you mentioned it in passing, beel was insistent you go back to that topic. he held you close, despite the fact that you were both sweaty and gross, because the thing that mattered most to him was how you felt

of course he wouldn't pry, and he didn't, but he will guard your secret with his life now. anytime you need him or just want to talk, or need a hug, he's there unconditionally

Belphie

when you initially met, when he was imprisoned in the attic and you thought he was human like he claimed he was, whenever you'd chat he could tell there was something you were holding back

he asked upfront what the matter was, not realizing he'd strike such a nerve. you took it not how he expected you to and you stormed off, upset. he was concerned he'd jeopardized his plan but there wasn't anything he could do about it now

later that night you returned, you had cooled off and apologized, and told him why you had been so disturbed by his comment. you showed him the few on your upper back and neck, and told your story. he almost felt bad about what he'd done

when he held you aloft by your neck, that same part of him that felt guilty chimed in again and made him remembered the scars you'd shown him and the kinship you thought you shared together, when you thought he was a human. it was a shame not all of him felt sorry for you

[whereforarthur]

I Didn't Know Punk Girls Blushed

Request: Can you do a Chrismd imagine where he’s into an edgier girl? Like maybe she has tattoos and piercings and is the complete opposite of him? Idk how i want the story to go so you can have free range lol

Pairing: ChrisMd x Reader

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 3k

*****

Chris sauntered into the dimly lit vinyl record store, his eyes immediately drawn to the wall of albums that seemed to breathe the very essence of London's vibrant music scene. The sweet, nostalgic scent of old records filled the air, a stark contrast to the bustling street outside. He was on a mission to find the perfect gift for Arthur Hill's birthday, something that would make his old pal's face light up like a Christmas tree.

Behind the counter, a girl with a shock of different streaks of colored hair and a smattering of tattoos peeked out from under her beanie. She was the epitome of edgy, with a piercing gaze that could cut through the fog of a London evening. Her name tag read 'y/n', and she looked as if she'd rather be anywhere but here, serving customers in a store that seemed to be a relic of a bygone era.

Chris approached, a smile playing on his lips, "Hi, I'm looking for something special for my mate's birthday. He's into some old school stuff, you know?"

Y/n nodded, her expression unchanged. "What's his taste?"

Chris thought for a moment, "Arthur's a classic rock kind of guy, but with a bit of a twist. Nothing too mainstream."

Y/n's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the rows of records. "I've got just the thing," she murmured, slipping behind the counter and disappearing into the labyrinth of vinyl. The sound of her boots tapping against the wooden floor echoed through the store, and Chris couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement. There was something about her that was different from the usual girls he encountered at games or in the pubs.

When she reemerged, she held a vintage-looking album with a faded cover. "This is 'The Dark Side of the Moon' by Pink Floyd. It's a classic, but it's got that edgy vibe to it." She placed it on the counter with a gentle thud. "Your mate Arthur might like it if he's into something with a bit of depth."

Chris's smile widened. "Perfect! I think he'll love it." He watched as she pulled out a dusty record sleeve and slid the album into it with a practiced ease. Her hands were adorned with rings that glinted in the soft light, hinting at a hidden creativity beneath her tough exterior.

As she worked, y/n spoke up again, "What's your name?"

"Chris," he replied, watching her closely. "ChrisMD."

Y/n looked up, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. "Ah, the football YouTuber," she said, her tone flat.

Chris's cheeks flushed slightly. "Yeah, that's me," he said, trying to keep the conversation going. "What's yours?"

Y/n rolled her eyes and tapped her name tag. "It's right there."

Chris felt a twinge of embarrassment and leaned in closer. "Oh, right," he chuckled. "So, y/n, do you work here often?"

Her eyes met his, and for a brief moment, he saw a spark of something—amusement, perhaps? "It's not the worst gig," she replied, sliding the record into a paper bag with the store's logo stamped on it. "Keeps me in vinyl and coffee."

Chris felt his heart flutter in his chest. He wasn't usually one to get flustered around girls, but there was something about y/n that threw him off his game. Her edgy allure was like nothing he'd ever encountered before, and he found himself desperately trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make him sound like the cheesy, over-eager fanboy he feared he was coming across as.

He took a deep breath, willing his cheeks to return to their normal color. "So, y/n, do you like football?" He cringed internally, knowing it was a cliché question, but he was desperate to find some common ground.

To his surprise, she looked up at him with a smirk. "You know, I've been known to kick a ball around," she said, handing him the bag. "But I'm more into the indie scene myself."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Indie music and football? That's an interesting mix."

Y/n shrugged. "Life's full of surprises."

Their conversation was interrupted by the jingle of the shop door as it opened, letting in a gust of cool air. A customer walked in, and y/n's demeanor shifted, her eyes focusing on the new arrival. "I've got to get back to work," she said, turning away from Chris.

Chris felt a pang of disappointment but nodded, understanding. "No worries. Thanks for the help." He took the bag from her outstretched hand, feeling the warmth she had transferred to it. "Maybe I'll see you around?"

Y/n glanced back at him, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. "Maybe," she said noncommittally before returning her attention to the new customer.

*****

The next few days passed in a blur for Chris. He found himself counting down the hours until he could return to the vinyl record store, hoping to catch another glimpse of y/n. He'd never felt this way about a girl before—his usual type was more of the cheerleader variety, not the edgy, tattooed girl who seemed to see right through him. But there was something about her that drew him in, a challenge that he couldn't resist.

On the third day, he mustered the courage to return. The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and y/n looked up from the stack of records she was organizing. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker in her eyes that made his heart race. She didn't look surprised to see him, just… resigned, as if she'd been expecting his return.

"Back again?" she asked, her voice holding a touch of amusement.

Chris felt his cheeks warm, but he held her gaze. "Yeah, I had to come back. That Pink Floyd album was a hit."

y/n nodded. "Thought it might be." She paused, her hand resting on a nearby record. "So, what are you looking for today?"

Chris shrugged, playing it cool. "Just browsing, really."

y/n raised an eyebrow, her piercings glinting in the soft light. "You're not here to see me, then?"

Chris's heart skipped a beat. "Well, that's not entirely true," he admitted, a grin spreading across his face. "I just wanted to, you know, say thanks and maybe get to know you a bit better."

Her expression remained neutral, but he could see the corners of her mouth twitch. "What's there to know?" she asked, a challenge in her voice.

Chris took a step closer, leaning on the counter. "Everything," he said, his eyes scanning her tattoos, trying to decipher the stories they held. "You're like a walking mystery, and I'm a curious guy."

Y/n's smirk grew into a small smile. "Alright, what do you want to know?"

Chris's mind raced with questions, but he decided to start simple. "How did you get into vinyl?"

Y/n's eyes lit up, a softness coming over her features. "My dad," she said. "He had a collection that was his pride and joy. When he passed, I inherited it all. It's how I keep him with me, you know?"

Chris nodded, feeling a sudden kinship with this girl who had, until now, been a complete enigma to him. "That's really cool," he said, his voice earnest. "I bet he had some amazing records."

Y/n nodded, her eyes misting over slightly. "He did. Some of the best." She paused, then took a deep breath, as if deciding whether or not to let him in further. "He taught me to appreciate the artistry of music, beyond just the sound. The feel of the vinyl, the smell of the sleeves, the way the needle hits the record… It's all part of the experience."

Chris found himself drawn into her world, a place where the music wasn't just background noise but a living, breathing entity that connected people in profound ways. "That's beautiful," he murmured, genuinely moved by her words.

Y/n's eyes searched his, as if looking for signs of mockery or insincerity, but all she found was genuine interest. "You get it," she said, sounding slightly surprised.

Chris nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from her. She looked so pretty when she talked about something she was passionate about, her features softening and her eyes lighting up with an inner fire that made his heart race. He'd never seen a girl transform so completely when discussing something she loved. It was mesmerizing.

"I do," he said softly. "I think that's what's been missing from my music experience. Just playing it on my phone or computer doesn't quite capture that… magic."

Y/n leaned closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Exactly! That's what makes vinyl so special. It's not just about the music; it's about the connection to the artist, the history, the culture."

Chris nodded, feeling more at ease now that they had found common ground. "So, what's your favorite record?"

Y/n's eyes sparkled as she thought. "It's hard to pick just one," she said, scanning the shelves. "But if I had to, it'd be 'The Queen is Dead' by The Smiths."

Chris nodded, scribbling down the name in his phone. "I'll have to give it a listen," he said, his thumb hovering over the screen. "You know, I've got a turntable at home that's been collecting dust. Maybe it's time to put it to good use."

The conversation flowed easily between them, a dance of shared interests and laughter. Chris found himself drawn to her sharp wit and her ability to challenge him. He'd never felt this way about a girl before—like he was discovering something new and exciting, something that made his heart race just a little bit faster.

Finally, as the shop grew quiet and the last rays of sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, casting patterns on the floor, he took a deep breath. "So, y/n," he began, his voice casual but his heart hammering in his chest. "I was wondering if you'd be up for grabbing a coffee or something, maybe show me around some of the local indie music spots?"

Her gaze remained on the records she was sorting, but her hand stilled. "Why me?" she asked, her tone teasing.

Chris felt a thrill run through him. She was playing hard to get, but he could see the curiosity in her eyes. "Because you're the vinyl whisperer," he said with a grin. "And I've got a feeling you know all the hidden gems of London's music scene."

Y/n finally looked up, meeting his gaze. "Flattery won't get you far," she said, but her voice held a playful note. "But okay, I'll bite. How about tomorrow night?"

Chris felt his heart soar. "Really?" He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, not wanting to scare her off.

Y/n nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, really. But don't get your hopes up, football boy. I'm not going to make it easy for you."

Chris chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "Fair enough," he said, trying to play it cool. "Where should we meet?"

Y/n thought for a moment, her eyes scanning the ceiling as if the answer were written there. "How about The Lock Tavern?" she suggested. "It's got a decent selection of records, and the coffee's not too bad either."

Chris nodded eagerly. "Sounds perfect. What time?"

"Eight," she said, her eyes finally meeting his. "Don't be late."

Chris couldn't believe his luck. He'd scored a date with the edgy vinyl goddess of his dreams. "I'll be there," he promised, trying to keep his voice steady.

*****

The following evening, Chris found himself pacing in front of The Lock Tavern, his heart thumping in his chest like a drum. He'd chosen his outfit carefully, aiming for a look that was casual but cool—a nod to her indie style without completely abandoning his own. He glanced at his watch. 7:58. Two minutes to go.

As if on cue, y/n appeared around the corner, her hair a riot of color in the streetlight. She was wearing a vintage band tee and a leather jacket that made her look like she'd just stepped off the set of a music video. She spotted him and raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

Chris took a deep breath and walked over to her. "Hey," he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You're early," she said, sounding slightly surprised.

"I didn't want to be late," he replied, his cheeks reddening. "So, shall we go in?"

The Lock Tavern was a cozy, dimly lit pub with a distinctly vintage vibe. The walls were lined with shelves of records, and the air was thick with the scent of beer and good music. The jukebox in the corner played a mix of indie hits and obscure tracks that made Chris feel like he'd stumbled into a secret club.

They found a table in the back, the light from a flickering candle casting shadows on y/n's face. She ordered a black coffee, and Chris went for a pint, hoping it would calm his nerves. They talked about music, her favorite bands, and the history of vinyl. Chris found himself hanging on her every word, her passion for the subject contagious.

As the night wore on, the conversation grew more personal. y/n talked about her life growing up in London, her love for the city's underground music scene, and her dreams of becoming a music journalist. Chris shared stories from his childhood, his love for football, and his journey to becoming a YouTube sensation. Despite their differences, they found common ground in their shared love for the art of storytelling—whether it was through music, videos, or the written word.

Their laughter grew louder with each shared anecdote, and the tension between them grew palpable. When the topic of tattoos came up, y/n leaned in, her eyes locked on his. "Do you have any?"

Chris felt a shiver run down his spine. He'd never considered getting inked before, but the way she said it made him want to show her something only she knew about him. "No, I don't," he admitted. "But I've always been curious."

Her smirk grew. "Well, if you're going to keep hanging around these parts, you might want to get one," she teased. "It's practically a rite of passage."

Chris swallowed, his heart racing. "Maybe I will," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But only if you come with me."

Y/n's eyes searched his, and for the first time, he saw something other than amusement or challenge in them—there was a softness, a hint of vulnerability. "Alright," she said, her voice just as soft. "But only if you let me choose the design."

Chris nodded, feeling a strange thrill at the idea of letting her mark him in some way. It was a bold move, but he was ready to step out of his comfort zone for her.

The night grew late, and the pub began to empty out. They lingered over their drinks, the conversation never waning. It was as if they'd known each other for years, despite their stark differences. But as they sat in the warm glow of the candlelight, sharing stories and laughs, it was clear that they had a connection that was more than just skin deep.

When y/n suggested they head out, Chris couldn't hide his disappointment. But as they stepped into the cool London night, the buzz of the city seemed to energize them both. They strolled down the cobblestone streets, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the quiet. The stars above were obscured by the city lights, but the magic of their evening was undiminished.

As they approached the tattoo parlor, y/n's hand slipped into his, and he felt a jolt of excitement. The shop was small, nestled between a vintage clothing store and a tattooed bakery, the neon sign flickering in the dark. The walls were lined with flash art, a kaleidoscope of images that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the punk rock playing in the background.

The artist, a burly man with a gentle smile, took one look at the nervousness etched on Chris's face and gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "Don't worry, mate," he said, his voice gruff but kind. "You're in good hands."

Y/n whispered the design into the artist's ear, and he nodded, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You're sure about this?" he asked, turning to Chris.

Chris looked at her, her edgy beauty illuminated by the neon glow. "Yeah," he said, swallowing hard. "I trust her."

The process was surprisingly painless, the needle a gentle hum that seemed to sync with the rhythm of his racing heart. As the artist worked, y/n held his hand, her grip tight and reassuring. When it was over, he looked down at the fresh ink, a simple but meaningful design that represented their shared love of music and their blossoming friendship.

They stepped out into the night, the cool air soothing the sting of the tattoo. y/n turned to him, her eyes shining. "So, what do you think?"

Chris smiled, feeling a sense of belonging he hadn't felt in a long time. "I think it's perfect," he said, squeezing her hand. "Thank you."

Their walk back to the tube station was filled with a newfound ease, the awkwardness of their first meeting a distant memory. As they parted ways, the promise of future adventures hanging in the air, Chris couldn't help but feel like he'd found something special in this edgy, pierced girl who'd turned his world upside down.

In the weeks that followed, they explored the city's hidden music venues, discovered new bands, and shared quiet moments that felt like secrets whispered between friends. With each passing day, their bond grew stronger, the lines between fan and crush blurring into something more substantial.

Chris found himself looking forward to their meetups with an anticipation that was both thrilling and terrifying. He knew that the girl who had once seemed so unattainable was now someone he could see himself with, not just for a fleeting romance but for something real.

The tension grew with each shared smile, each brush of their hands. And when y/n finally leaned in and kissed him under the glow of a streetlamp, the music of the city fading into the background, he knew that he was falling for her—for the girl who had shown him that sometimes, the most beautiful melodies were found in the most unexpected places.

*****

@gvf23

@xxkatxgracexx

[lady-ashfade]

Hi! I've taken a gander at your writing and I LOVE it! If possible, I'd like to make a request of some hcs (or a short drabble, either is fine) of Astarion x a gender neutral, autistic!Tav? Perhaps they've spent a long time masking and have been terrified of telling him about their neurodivergence, but eventually (very nervously) tell him after some time into their relationship? I'm curious to know how he might react. I've fallen head over heels for this man and it would mean a lot to me as someone who's still working to fully embrace their autism. Thank you for your time 💜 ♾🌈

Hidden Truth

This is very short so I apologize! It’s also kinda shitty because I’ve never done much about this before

Astarion x Autistic!Reader HC’s

I do not have autism, and don’t know much about it. But how ever I have seen a lot about it because I have a lot of symptoms so I looked it up to be more in depth with this. I’m so sorry if I get things wrong💓

Warnings: Poorly written autistic people, mention of people leaving for this, short explanation, over all kinds fluffy and a bit sad. Idk.

Astarion noticed that you weren’t like the others, there was just something about you. It wasn’t anything bad you just…Are very unique. And he loved it that.

The way you looked around each cave or place you visited and found something cool. Your little face lights up and starts to squeal and shake your hands around.

He loved how you got so excited over things.

Then when you looked around for a clue of what to say, you tensed up when people cried around you. Or, saying the wrong thing at the wrong time because you didn’t read the room. But, he loved to laugh about it.

Fighting was hard when there was loud sounds and he could see you flinch each time even though you had done this many times before.

At camp he noticed how you played with your hands or things in your hands. But he hated when he’d find you in a panic and never told him what was going on.

These are some of the things he noticed even if you tried so hard to hide it.

You had visited him outside of his tent with a plan to come clean, or to tell him. You loved him and wanted him to know about you, but it was so hard. You often dreamed about him calling you a “freak” and leaving you. It always made you sick to your stomach.

“Why the look? You’d think my presence would make you smile.” He’s tease and inch closer, swaying his body.

“I um- I have something I’d like to talk to you about.” The tone in your voice made him slightly worried but he didn’t show it. Only smirking and showing you to the log in front of the fire. “Anything you’d like, darling.”

You sat down next to him and began to pour your hear out to him. Explaining that you had autism and what the entailed, his confused face made it almost laughable. But he listened to your words like you have always done with him.

Each detail he could see exactly what you were taking about having witnessed you doing so.

“And, pray tell. Have you decided to tell me now?” He saw how you panicked and his eyes went slightly wide at the wrong tone he used. “I only mean..What took you so long?”

You looked away from him and avoided eye contact as it became hard. “I was afraid you’d hate me.” Hugging yourself at the memories of many doing so. “I didn’t want you to leave me.”

His heart broke and his chest felt heavy at the thought you- His darling. Were scared to tell him. So he laughed a bit.

“Oh, how cute. There isn’t much you could do for me to leave you and especially over something you can’t control.” His hand rested onto of your thigh and he scooted closer to you. “I find your traits endearing.”

His other hands reached to cup your cheek and turn your head, he was so soft. Softer then he’d ever been before. “I- I appreciate you telling me. You’d never have to worry about telling me anything,” he leaned forward and leaned his head on yours. “It’s clear to see that you have me wrapped around your finger, and my amazing self has you around mine.” His lips turned to kiss your cheek. 

Astarion doesn’t really care about it much. He learns how to make you feel better and help when you get overstimulated easy.

But he’s very protective when you get stares for a tic or anything. Pulls out his weapon and threats them, glares or just straight up yells at them.

He’s with you when you need him. Over all astarion is supportive over it.

But he was confused for a period of time and acts differently until you tell him not to. He just wants to make his baby feel safe and understood.

[asa-writes-illegibly]

fwb! childhood friend! Lip Gallagher x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Who doesn't get drawn to Lip Gallagher? Not you. You're hoping to commit, he hoped you never asked. So you commit to something else. It's not what he thinks

Word Count: 898

Content Warnings: Allusions to sex, light kissing, cuss words idk, some smoking, yearning on reader's part and some jealousy from lip

A/N: No use of Y/N. Just a blurb, my first ever actually. So if you read this, congrats! You've taken my writing virginity muah! You gonna take responsibility?

He just draws people in without meaning to— all dirty blond curls that brush against his ears, roman nose that plagues that back of your mind, and a brain you can't even fathom the depths of. He's made of stardust, Lip Gallagher and all his freckles, then you stop your line of thought because you're not that much of a pathetic mess.

(You wonder if this is what Homer felt when he looked on to Calliope, all untapped potential and inquisitive blue eyes and snarky lips wrapped around a cig. Try as you might to put it in words: his character, the way he thought, the way his lips curl that makes the corners of his eye wrinkle, he's Lip and you're merely mortal.

Admiration can't bleed through your words enough so they bleed into your blood stream instead.)

It was hard being his most unfortunate and unwilling victim. You might have wanted to be in a relationship with him at first, might have even told him that only for him to vehemently be against it. It comes out as a snort, unbidden from what you can tell with his eyes going wide like that. Your fingers grasp the back of your neck, brushing against skin so you don't feel the shame of wanting more.

That's fine. Your friendship with him was more important than anything else anyway. Might as well have him when he wants to and how he wants to, if you can't have all of him.

You're pathetic enough for that, you think, looking for stability from someone who'd never known any. However, life had beaten you hard enough to accept things that cannot be controlled.

It takes weeks for the awkwardness to settle, one difficult night where your room was more of a solace than his shared room was with the boys.

But when you wake up in your bed, he takes out a cig and passes it to you, calls you a bum in a way that makes your nose feel sharp and everything is back to the way it was.

Lip was at your place, but calls you a bum for a cigarette that you didn't even ask for. Go figure.

It's fine for a while, really, really. You might not be as smart as Lip, but you had a pragmatic mind and steady shoulders despite your rapidly beating heart.

The lingering looks lessen, focusing more on your prospects—in your career, your future, God knows there's no one quite like Lip Gallagher and you have no desire to touch that part of you that aches still.

Your eyes dart to your phone screen, cracked and scratched, more often than not these days. Waiting, just waiting for an email that says you got accepted to that internship. Or that minimum wage job that pays you less than what you get from Patsy. It's an uphill climb towards experience in your vocation and you want to reach the summit.

Not that a lot of people would even know that. All that they could see is that you check your phone more often now.

Every ping, it rouses you from whatever it was you were doing. Or who.

"Fuckin' focus," Lip finds himself grabbing you by your jaw, cheeks squishing under the pads of his fingers. His other hand paws at your thighs, digging into the flesh.

A string of saliva connects your lips together, leaving petal-soft flesh looking shiny and pink.

Lip had always been selfish, it comes by nature. Or nurture too. Who cares at this point when his digits dig into smooth skin and you look at him all confused and outraged?

"Wait," you say. "Could be important."

Seriously? Fuck you. Lip is the one who is confused, he is the one who is outraged. He bites at your lip, wanting it to hurt, wanting to draw blood.

Something has been taking your attention recently and he's not used to it, he ain't happy at all. He doesn't make a secret of it even if he doesn't know why. All he knows is that he never had to share your attention, you were always there, always present, always pissing him off like you're doing now.

So easily satisfied and content even if he's out meandering around with god knows who. Agreeable, understanding, patient and always-

Your phone vibrates again.

How dare you?

Your eyes dart to your phone in a way that makes his shackles rise.

How fucking dare you?

Be understanding here with his chub, be agreeable, fucking focus.

Fingers pressing harder, lips searching yours frantically. He drinks in your protests, your words, your fucking spit.

Anything, everything to keep you away from your fucking phone. He'd chuck it out the door if he didn’t understand how needed it is, really. Would fucking throw it down on the pavement and stomp on that shit for good measure.

He thought it was subtle, how he would wrap his hand a little too tightly on your thigh, on your face. Whoever it is you're talking to, he fucking hopes that they notice. The bruises on your hips won't match anyone else's but his.

He knows that when they kiss you, they'll hear your voice and the way your breath hitches. If he's kissing you too much, leaving you breathless. Lip wasn't sorry. He's making sure that whoever kisses you, they taste him instead.

[divinesolas]

would.. you ever consider.. a chad x reader x ethan threesome thing ? like reader admits to chad that shes sexually attracted to ethan too and chads like "oh really?" and all teasing like then she just goes "chad, im serious. what if we tried something new.. but ethan was included?"

so when they knock on ethans door to ask if he'd like to try something with them ethans quick to let them in and its just reader in one of chads huge shirts on her and chad in his boxers, both covered in hickeys from moments before.

and idk if u wanna take it from there but i could be more in depth (i love writing im just not good at it 💀)

just my thoughts about this, might do a full fic at a later time!

i feel like chad would be down, the though probably had crossed his mind once or twice in the past but had never brought it up in fear of making you uncomfortable.

he'll never admit it but he was relieved to hear you bring it up first and would be more than eager to go get ethan.

ethan was always a little (very) envious of your relationship. he didnt know who he wishes he was more tbh so he always tried to be out of the dorm anytime the two of you were over in fear of hearing something that would leave him throbbing and reaching his hands down his shorts.

today he couldnt leave despite the fact he wanted to. he had to study for his upcoming econ test, he would normally go to the library but it was closed today and it was raining so he coudnt even go sit outside, everyone elses dorms were occupied leaving him stuck there with his headphones blasting as he tries to ignore whatever the hell the two of you were doing.

when he hears banging he ignore it, finding it unbelievable the two of you were making so much noise until he turns around and notices the knocking on his door.

when he opens his door and are greeted by the sight of the two of you practically naked and sweaty, covered in hickeys with bruised lips he finds himself taking a step back to compose himself

"do you need a condom?"

you laugh at ethans clearly uncomfortable way of making conversation

chad shakes his head and eye's ethan up and down, "bro you know you dont own any condoms."

"i... well i have that box you gave me."

chad shakes his head and looks at you one more time to confirm with you and you eagerly nod, your eyes unable to leave ethan and his growing buldge

"you wanna join us?" "dont just ask him like that?" "how else am i supposed to do it?"

ethan stares at the two of you bickering with confusion, "What?"

"we want you to join us ethan" "join you.. with what?"

he can only watch as you walk towards him and wrap your arms around his neck giving him a grin, "you know what silly."

chad finds his way behind ethan and lays his head against his roommates shoulder. "so we were just wondering if you wanted to join us-"

"yes."

you would laugh at his eagerness if you didnt want him as bad as you do

bringing his head towards yours you slam your lips against yours as chad begins to kiss down his neck

ethan feels like he's in heaven, maybe hes a little grateful the library is closed today

[blingblong55]

The sun and moon-Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

Okay, but I was on TikTok and you’re the only blog I know who really likes Makarov besides me and 🙈😭😫🥰🙈 if you know the audio, that goes like 🎶 me and the devil… walking side by side 🎵 it made me think of him and reader and just, like… idk. Becoming his queen and I just love the idea of him seeing all this (whether he saw it from the beginning or noticed it after a while/before anyone else) potential in you that no one else seemed to, and fosters that in you, making you two a power couple in your little dynasty. He may do the dirty work and have blood on his hands, but you’re just trying to do good and make the world a better place again, even if it’s by any means necessary. Idk. Maybe it’s also bc I also just love hades & persephone sm too and it also gives me the grumpy & sunshine trope as well in a way too but I thought I’d share bc I’ve been loving this thought so much 🥰😭🥰🙈 ---- F!reader, romance/fluff, established!relationship ----

A/N: making this honestly lets me be a little more creative so thank you! I just couldn't stop writing and I think this will be the best I've ever done

Russia is a place known to be cold, and really, for him this is what life is like. For you, on a different side of the world, it's more calm and beautiful.

In the world of cruelty, there exists a power couple like no other. Vladimir Makarov, feared and revered, walks the path of darkness, his hands stained with the blood of many. Yet, beside him stands y/n, his love, the queen of his heart and his guiding light. Together, they forge a new destiny, a dynasty built on strength.

He is a titan among men, commands armies with a flick of his wrist and leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. To stand in front of him, it so is in the presence of death itself yet, there is one who walks beside him, a figure shrouded in mystery and clocked in the endgame of your own making.

Y/n, they call you, a name whispered in hushed tones by those who have glimpsed her fleeting presence. To some, you're a beacon of hope, a flicker of light in the darkness, your mere presence enough to quell the storm raging within Makarov's soul. But who are you, his angel, who holds the heart of the most feared man in the world? Some say you're his queen, his equal in every way, gaze as steely as his own, resolve unshakable in the face of adversity. Others whisper of a love born from the depths of despair, forged in the fires of war, a bond that transcends time and space.

As the world trembles beneath the weight of their combined might, one thing remains certain: where there is Vladimir Makarov, there too shall be y/n, walking side by side, their destinies entwined in a dance of darkness and light, love and war.

Amid chaos and carnage that define their existence, Makarov sits by a window, looking out to the gardens. In the hazy corridors of his mind, he recalls the first time he laid eyes on you, a glimpse of beauty amidst the ugliness of war. "What's her name?" He asks one of his men. You stood before him, gaze unwavering, spirit unbroken. "Y/n, daughter of-" "go away," he says sternly and walks up to you. "As beautiful as day, Y/N," he takes your hand and kisses it. "Who are you?" Oh, that soft voice of yours that melts his cold heart. "Vladimir but you can call me Vovo," his accent rich and smooth.

There is something about you that sets you apart from the rest, that ignited a spark of curiosity within him.

"Makarov, war is on," a man walked into the room. "If you must excuse me dear, I have some…stuff to do," he walks out of the room as if it's just another typical day for him.

Days passed, and you were told to stay indoors since you didn't seem capable of winning a war, much less fighting one. And with one knock on the door, he walks inside, interrupting your train of thought. "C'mon, I'm not letting your beauty rot in this room," he says, extending his hand and you take it without doubt. "Where are we to go?" you ask.

"To battle my dear, but you'll stick beside me," he mentions, guiding you through the dark corridors.

And as he is called back to attention, the beautiful memory fades. As it fades and the present comes crashing back, Makarov is left with a sense of longing, a yearning for a time when the world was simpler, when he and you were just two souls bound together by fate. And though the scars of war may never heal, he takes solace in the knowledge that no matter what the future may hold, he will always have you by his side.

As the years go by, you two navigate the treacherous landscape of warfare. Where his iron fist strikes, you are the steady hand that holds the light for him to come back home.

You've learned a lot from him, from fighting to learning that not all his wrongs are from pure hate and cruelty.

It's a waltz, a dangerous, blood-driven waltz.

In the middle of all the turmoil in their line of work, there are moments of intimacy between you two, moments when they cast aside the weight of their burdens and simply exist in each other's presence. In those fleeting moments, they are not leaders of armies or the rulers of wars but two souls bound together by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion.

And though the world trembles at the sound of your names, Makarov and Y/N stand unwavering, their hearts intertwined in a dance of passion and desire. For in each other, they have found solace in a world consumed by chaos, a beacon of light in the darkness that surrounds them.

"Vovo?" you say comfortably in his arms. "Любимая?" (darling) "Will there be a day where this will end?" "Yes, but until then, I'll just keep holding you close," his warm lips meet your forehead.

They've said before that Makarov reigns as a formidable figure, feared and respected by all who cross his path. His domain is a world of shadows and chaos, where darkness reigns supreme and few dare to tread. You, you're a vision of beauty and grace that was consumed by war.

As yet another storm is to come, you and him stand together. "Don't ever leave me, okay?" he pleas. "Like I ever was," you smile.

In the shadows, he lurks and in the sun, you dance. No evil, no war and no man can separate you from the other.

It's beautiful, how you can be so opposite. Vladimir was midnight and you were sunshine. He preferred a dark room and a sunroom. Dark clothes covered him and you with warm and beautiful colours. It's a peculiar kind of love and it's warm. Loving the devil, loving an angel. The same story is told just like Hades and Persephone.

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