#probably because i burn myself out too quickly or something

[fortune-maiden]

Thinking about Shao Yuanyuan and her wildcard potential and it hit me today... just how much does she know? Does she live in a time loop similar to Lu Guang or does she hop in and out of the past like Cheng Xiaoshi? Does she know that Cheng Xiaoshi also has a death node?

It suddenly occurred to me to that the Shao Yuanyuan we likely saw during the fire in Ep 4, was either a time leaping SYY from the future or at least one who had information from her future self to know to be in Bridon at this point in time and also a Shao Yuanyuan who might have just realized Cheng Xiaoshi had awakened his own powers.

Given her meeting with Cheng Xiaoshi in Ep 6 where she acts like Cheng Xiaoshi should be aware of how this all works, I suspect that it's because the version of Shao Yuanyuan from Ep 4 arranged this meeting because she encountered Cheng Xiaoshi during the fire and thus knew he would show up in Bridon and go searching for them through Wang Qing. She needed to set up that meeting so she could tell Cheng Xiaoshi face to face not to pursue her anymore (and make things more complicated).

I also think that was her second attempt at doing so - the first being to go back years earlier to tell the Qiao family not to let him go to Bridon. But the future refused to change so she found another opportunity to try again.

And based on Lu Guang's comments it sounds like she would have also failed again in the original timeline. It's not clear how her conversation with CXS went last time (if there was one) but at the very least she might not have had time to make CXS promise not to chase after her anymore, and that would have likely sealed his fate. If anything, a sudden interrupted meeting like that might have even encouraged him further.

And this is all coming from a Shao Yuanyuan from an unknown point in the future...

Anyway this is a lot of words to say where in time is Shao Yuanyuan?

And what the heck does the timeline look like from her perspective?

[sophiethewitch1]

to everyone in my inbox asking about what we wants next chapter im really sorry it's been ages and there's been basically nothing but radio silence. i dont really have any excuse i just havent felt as interested in writing for it recently and whenever i do write for it i find myself struggling to get anywhere on the next chapter and writing for future stuff instead. for example the published wc is under 50k i think but the actual amount ive written for it is at 75k lololol. its definitely still being worked on, and definitely still a priority, i just can't really promise anything rn :/

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

it's probably the sunnier weather that's doing stuff to my brain to make me more optimistic but it's so interesting having a brain that craves a lot of self-fulfillment to the point where I can move past some hang-ups around perfection by going "oh I really wanna do that though" and then I do it well because researching how to do it right is also a rewarding part of the process

[angelfic]

theodore nott x reader

warnings — kissing, kinda pg-13, mentions of drinking/smoking the usual stuff blah blah etc etc

a/n; truly thought another theo fic written by me would never see the light of day but here we are <3 this was meant to be a tiny drabble btw I hate myself!!!! NOT PROOFREAD!

THEODORE NOTT is shy.

he doesn’t understand why people find him intimidating. well, actually, that’s not completely true. he knows that people avoid him when he’s with his friends because they’re doing stupid shit like when enzo and draco are hexing each other for fun. or when mattheo starts scrapping out in the corridor because someone looked at him wrong and blaise is egging him on.

and, okay, maybe theo will jump in at some point too. in his defence, it’s only when the other guy’s friend starts in on him first.

but his friends aside, theo doesn’t understand why people think he’s intimidating when he’s by himself. it’s not his fault his resting face is daunting.

he wishes he could change it sometimes. girls will still come up to him at parties in the common room once he’s had a couple of drinks, but at the risk of becoming an alcoholic, he can’t be that loose all of the time.

theo wishes more than ever that he could cast some sort of spell on himself when you talk to him. you share a few classes, much to theo’s delight, but it’s not like he’s taking advantage of the fact.

every time you speak to him, his brain short circuits and he feels like a piece of muggle technology being fried by the wards of hogwarts. sometimes it’ll be something small like when you ask him to pass over the pot of lacewing flies in potions and he just stares at you.

“uhm, we’ve run out of them on our table,” you explain after a few seconds of silence, giving him a little smile. you point to the ingredients and raise your brows. “so…?”

he knows for a fact that his face is set in a blank expression that probably looks pissed off, especially when he catches sight of your friend at the table next door who practically looks concerned for your safety.

but his ears are burning and he feels like someone’s electrocuted him when he finally hands over the pot without looking at you and your finger brushes against his for a nanosecond.

“thanks,” you say, sincerely, a smile still gracing your lips as he offers you a stiff nod. you act as though you just had a completely normal interaction and it has theo stressing out because what if you see right through him?

another time, you’re late to history of magic and there are two seats left. one near the front and the other next to theo. you rush over and take out your things, barely registering who you’re sitting with, but theo is hyper-aware. no one ever willingly sits next to him aside from his friends.

once you’re settled, it appears that the rush of being late has left you quickly due to the monotone voice of professor bins and instead you’re fighting to stay awake. theo would know, since he keeps throwing glances your way.

at one point professor binns drones on about known cases of dragon pox and when he starts to list the symptoms, including a green and purple rash, theo mutters under his breath to mattheo, “much rather that than having to sit here for another bloody hour.”

his eyes flick over to you, surprised when you let out an unexpected snort of laughter. mattheo, having fallen asleep on his desk unbeknownst to theo, is oblivious to theo’s comment. instead, you’re the one covering your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing too hard and theo physically can’t stop his lips from quirking up. he made you laugh.

later that day, he overhears your friend apologising for not saving you a seat in class. “i can’t believe you went and sat next to nott. i’m surprised he didn’t tell you to piss off.”

you immediately shush her, and your next words make him feel like he just ran a marathon. “i still don’t know what you mean. he’s nice… and funny,” you say simply, shrugging.

he repeats the words in his head over and over until the next time you talk to him, which happens to be at a party in the slytherin common room.

outside the party, actually. theo goes to sit right outside the common room entrance with his cup and a cigarette, partly to smoke and partly to get away from some of the girls who were flocking to him and his friends after they had all had a few drinks.

he’s exhaling a puff of smoke right as you’re quietly exiting the party to take a seat next to him and as soon as he spots you, he accidentally inhales the smoke the wrong way and coughs.

“sorry,” he mutters, waving the smoke away before it can go near you. he feels stupid and decides to just dump the thing into his cup before setting it aside. alcohol makes him looser, but it doesn’t make him completely immune to you.

“it’s fine,” you smile, crossing your legs as you settle on the ground next to him. “how come you’re out here every time there’s a party?”

“too loud,” he explains, letting his head rest against the wall as he starts to feel the buzz kicking in. “that, and to get away from all my adoring fans of course.”

this makes you laugh and theo, in his tipsy state, adorns a lazy grin at the sound, not bothering to hide that he’s looking at you.

“i don’t think there was a single girl who didn’t try chatting you or your friends up in there,” you shake your head, amused.

theo swallows, noticing the way you’re fiddling with the hem of your dress and he wonders if it bothers you. he blames the vodka for making him so bold when he says, “you and your friends didn’t.”

“my friends are scared of you,” you reply, raising your eyebrows as if to ask him if he’s surprised. “they think you’re always glaring at me.”

“nah,” he mumbles, looking at you through slightly hooded eyes. the dimly lit corridor makes your skin glow in a way that has him feeling a bit in awe, and he finds himself blurting out the first thing that comes to mind. “have they considered i’m staring at you because i think you’re fit?”

he promptly wants to punch himself in the face.

weirdly enough, you don’t look taken aback. you tilt your head as if pleasantly surprised, and your lips quirk up into the ghost of a smirk. “i have to say that explains a lot.”

“how so?” he asks, hesitant to know your answer. his heart stutters when you move closer to him and get up slightly to crouch beside him. your fingers reach out to tuck some of his hair behind his ear and he freezes, utterly still.

“well,” you say softly, a teasing glimmer in your eyes. “every time you speak to me the tips of your ears turn pink.”

and then you get up and leave and theo thinks his face has gone numb. he doesn’t remember much else from that evening, but the next morning his friends are asking him why he looks like he wants to kill someone.

he doesn’t know how to tell them that the someone he’s wanting to kill is himself for telling you he thinks you’re fit.

channeling the embarrassment into something useful, he tries to focus all his energy on the quidditch match he’s in against ravenclaw.

it goes by in a blur and somehow they’ve won, and theo thanks his lucky stars that they have because draco would surely have killed him for throwing the match due to being distracted.

the others run off quickly to the common room to celebrate, and theo tells them he’ll be right there, allowing himself to linger in the changing rooms for some peace and quiet before the inevitable celebrations.

“hey.”

he spins around, still in uniform with sweat dampening his hair and his green eyes fall on you in surprise. “uh. hi. what are you doing here?” he asks, uncertainly after the events of the night before. he hopes to Godric his ears are covered right now.

“just came to congratulate you,” you say with a playful smile.

theo’s brows furrow and his shoulders involuntarily slump slightly. he isn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. “oh.”

you push yourself off the doorframe and enter the room, slowly walking closer to him. he’s never been more grateful for deodorant in his life.

“and one more thing,” you add, inching closer still.

“mhm?” theo is practically holding his breath in anticipation, and when you reach out to gently touch his arm, he stiffens for a second.

“i think you’re fit too.”

a startled laugh leaves him at your whispered words and instead of saying thank you, he finds himself stepping forward to clear the air and say what he’s been thinking since the party.

“i don’t think you’re fit,” he starts, face dropping when your smile falters. “shit, no, i mean you are. fuck,” he breathes out, dragging a hand down his face.

you take in the faint blush creeping up his neck that definitely wasn’t there right after he finished the match and allow him a second to gather himself.

“you’re beautiful,” he stammers, closing the gap between the two of you in earnest. he faintly registers the fact that he’s practically towering over you and leans down in an attempt to be less intimidating. “like, crazy beautiful. i meant to say that yesterday instead of sounding like an absolute twat, but i mean, what else is new when i’m around you-“

you cut him off by grabbing him by the collar of his quidditch jersey and pulling him down to press your lips against his in a firm, unyielding kiss. he stiffens, hands hovering uncertainly at his sides for a moment as though he’s frozen, but it isn’t long before he’s reacting, as though he’s suddenly woken up.

his hands find your waist immediately, pulling you into him and straightening up slightly to deepen the kiss, pulling you up slightly to stand on your tiptoes as your lips slot against his.

theo breaks the kiss to meet your eyes with his own wide ones, rushing out words between kisses. “i don’t think you understand just how long…” he exhales into your mouth, kissing you firmly. “i’ve been wanting to do…” he nips at your bottom lip, making you gasp. “this,” he finishes, grinning into the kiss when you melt against him.

theo takes the opportunity to reach his hands down to your thighs, lifting you up and carrying you over to the wall where he’s suddenly kissing you with a new confidence, moving to pepper kisses down your jaw and onto your neck.

you tuck a finger under his chin to lift his face up to yours where you match his grin, your lips swollen and eyes glazed over. he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

“took you long enough.”

a/n cont.; I hate this soooo bad it was meant to be a silly little drabble and now it’s a block of uncapitalised mess but I’d put too much time into it (less than a day) so here u are I GUESS. take a shot every time I write a kiss that starts exactly that way

[solxamber]

Fairytales and Fever Dreams - Vil Schoenheit x reader

When you decide to beg a fairy for help at your lowest point, you didn't expect that he'd decide to help you— at the cost of you making skincare for him.

You’re a mage at the academy, and life has officially declared war on you. Seriously. You’re about this close to having a full-on breakdown, the kind where they find you cackling in the library while surrounded by half-finished spell scrolls. One more minor inconvenience and you swear, you’re going to walk out onto the quad, set fire to the herbology building, and just stand there, staring blankly as it burns, sipping tea.

And why? Because you have four—count them—four finals on the same day. You don’t know who pissed in the universe’s cereal, but apparently, you’re the one paying for it.

"Okay, it’s fine," you mutter to yourself while chewing on the end of a quill. "You just need one little miracle. Just a small one. Like, I don’t know, a meteor wiping out the school. Or the headmaster spontaneously combusting. Something normal like that."

But then, you remember the rumor—the kind of rumor people whisper about when they’re this close to a mental collapse. Oh yes, the whispered tale of the fairies in the forest at the edge of town. Supposedly, if you bring an offering to the fairies, they’ll grant you a wish. Any wish. No strings attached.

You snort. It’s probably a load of magical nonsense. But considering your current state of sleep deprivation (and let’s be honest, mild hysteria), you’re willing to give it a shot. Desperate times and all that.

So, you scrape together the fanciest honey and milk your student budget can manage, which is probably a 5/10 by fairy standards but hey, beggars can’t be choosers. You pack it up in a basket like some weird, broke Little Red Riding Hood and trudge out to the forest.

The second you arrive, you’re not even trying to be subtle or respectful about it. No, you go straight to begging.

“Please, fairies, PLEASE!” You fall to your knees dramatically, waving the basket around like you’re presenting some holy relic. “I’m begging you. I need help. I haven’t slept in three days, I’m running on a liter of coffee and sheer spite, and if I fail one more class, I’m gonna have to turn myself into a toad and live under a rock. Just—just one wish, that’s all I’m asking!”

It’s bad. Like, so bad, you’re half-expecting some animal to come along and put you out of your misery out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.

But then, there’s this rustling sound behind you, and when you look up, someone is standing there.

Correction: the prettiest person you’ve ever seen is standing there.

He’s tall, ethereal, and glowing—literally glowing, like he bathes in moonlight and stardust. His hair’s all silky and perfect, his skin looks like it’s never heard of acne, and the expression on his face tells you that he’s about two seconds away from calling security on you.

“Why, exactly,” he starts, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow that could cut glass, “are you kneeling in front of my forest and making this embarrassing display?”

You blink. Several things occur to you all at once:

1. Fairies are real. Huh. You thought you were just being insane.

2. Holy hell, he’s the most beautiful person (fairy?) you’ve ever seen.

3. Wait—his forest?

You quickly wipe the pathetic tears from your face and stumble to your feet. “A-are you… a fairy?”

“No, I’m a sentient dust bunny,” he deadpans. “Yes, of course, I’m a fairy. What are you even doing here?”

You hesitate. He’s giving off serious annoyed model on a runway vibes, and you’re not sure if he’s going to hex you out of his forest or just roll his eyes so hard that you get flung into another dimension.

“I, uh… finals,” you mumble, the tears starting to well up again. “Four finals. Same day. And I haven’t slept. I’m one failed exam away from permanently turning into a raccoon.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like your existence is just too much for him. “And you thought the best course of action was to come here and… grovel?”

You nod pathetically. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to just walk away, leaving you to your breakdown. But then his eyes narrow, and he points at your backpack. “What’s that?”

“Huh?” You look down and see the sunscreen bottle sticking out. “Oh, uh, that’s just something I made. I’ve been working on a skincare formula for sensitive skin.”

He steps closer, plucking it from your bag with the grace of someone used to handling priceless artifacts. “Skincare, you say?” He opens it, sniffing it cautiously before dabbing a bit onto the back of his hand. His eyes light up for a second, and you swear you hear an angelic choir in the background. “Hm. Not bad. A bit of a lavender undertone. Smooth texture. SPF 50?”

You nod. “Y-yeah.”

He looks back at you, and for the first time since he appeared, you see the barest hint of approval on his face. “It’s hard to find good skincare products these days, even among the fairies.”

You’re not sure how to respond. Is this your life now? Trading finals survival for skincare tips with a beautiful fairy?

“Well,” he says, still admiring the product, “I suppose I could grant you one wish. One. But only if you agree to make more of these skincare products for me.”

“Really?” You blink, not entirely believing your luck. “You’ll help me?”

He gives you a sidelong glance, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t do charity. But your skincare is adequate. And it’s not every day I meet someone this close to unraveling. It’s almost entertaining.”

You stare at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. “Deal. Deal. I’ll make you whatever skincare you want, just get me through these finals.”

He gives a nod, satisfied. “Then we have a deal.”

And just like that, you’ve somehow bartered your way out of academic doom with a fairy obsessed with sun protection. Let’s hope this arrangement works out better than the rest of your life so far.

Apparently, fairies like Vil don’t believe in things like cheating or, you know, the basic decency of using magic to fix your problems instantly. No, that would be too easy. And Vil—your very pretty, very exasperating new fairy overlord—has decided that the best way to help you pass your finals is to tutor you personally.

His price? One skincare product per lesson. And you, being surprisingly decent at making potions and cosmetics (alchemy major, what else), agreed because, at the time, you thought, How hard could it be?

Sweet summer child. You had no idea what you were getting into.

Because Vil? He’s not just strict. He’s villain origin story strict. His “tutoring” is so intense, so grueling, that you’re starting to wonder if he’s secretly training you for some kind of sadistic mage boot camp. At one point, you fail a poison-brewing technique, and he makes you redo it. Then again. And again. And again.

By the fifteenth attempt, you’re seriously contemplating bottling the poison and taking a little sip just to see what happens.

“Again,” Vil says, his voice icily calm, like he hasn’t just been watching you fail for an hour straight.

“I think I’m seeing stars,” you mutter, staring at the cauldron. “Should potions be giving me a near-death experience?”

“Focus,” he says, completely unfazed by your descent into madness. “If you can’t even get this basic potion right, I have serious concerns about your competency as a mage.”

You’re on the verge of a mental breakdown. One more failed attempt, and you’re going to throw yourself off the nearest cliff. Or better yet—turn yourself into a toad and hop into a pot of boiling water. Anything to escape the relentless perfectionism of Vil Schoenheit.

“Maybe I’ll just hex myself into a mushroom and live out the rest of my life in peace,” you grumble under your breath as you stir the potion yet again.

“ What was that?”

“Nothing!” You stir faster.

To your utter shock, the potion finally turns the right color. You’ve done it. You’ve successfully brewed the poison, and it only took, what, half your lifespan?

Vil inspects it with a critical eye, and after a long, painful pause, he says, “Acceptable.”

“Acceptable?!” You want to scream. This is the culmination of blood, sweat, tears, and the remnants of your sanity, and all he has to say is acceptable?

“Yes, acceptable,” Vil repeats, as if your suffering isn’t the most amusing thing he’s seen all week. “You’ll need to refine your technique, of course, but this will suffice for now.”

You groan, head in your hands. “I’m going to transmute myself into a sock and live in someone’s laundry basket.”

But here’s the kicker: despite all of Vil’s strictness, he’s actually the nicest person (fairy?) you’ve ever met. You don’t know if that’s pathetic or straight-up depressing, but still, it’s true. He’s picky, yes, but he cares.

Apparently, Vil has a radar for poor life choices because one day, after what feels like your 57th failed poison attempt, he takes one look at the sad pile of instant noodles and energy drinks cluttering your desk and clicks his tongue in disapproval.

"You've been eating this?" He gestures at the disaster that is your meal—a cup of ramen sitting next to an open bag of questionable chips. His expression could curdle milk. "Do you actually value your internal organs, or are you trying to audition for the role of a trash panda?"

You blink, staring at your gourmet spread, and then back at him. "Excuse me, I’ll have you know, this is an advanced student diet. We run on caffeine and MSG."

He raises an eyebrow. "You’re not running on anything. You’re sputtering at best."

You open your mouth to argue, but then glance down at the pathetic excuse for food in front of you. Okay. Fine. Maybe you are sputtering. But what are you supposed to do, handcraft five-course meals between four finals and Vil’s poison-torture sessions?

Vil sighs dramatically, as if your very existence is a personal affront. "I’m not letting you continue this… self-destruction. You’re going to eat real food even if it kills you." He waves a hand, and suddenly a basket of the most beautiful, vibrant fruits and vegetables you've ever seen appears out of thin air. It's like the entire organic section of a high-end grocery store, but, you know, without the soul-crushing price tags.

"Where did you even get all this?" you ask, poking suspiciously at a particularly shiny apple. "Did you steal it from some enchanted Whole Foods?"

Vil glares at you like you’ve personally insulted his lineage. "I foraged it from my forest, you uncultured turnip."

You blink. "I’m a potato now, and a turnip? What’s next? Are we making a root vegetable salad?"

Vil rolls his eyes. "No, we’re making something that doesn’t resemble a cry for help. Get to it."

You sigh, but with Vil watching like a disapproving food critic, you figure you might as well try to impress him. You rummage through the basket, grab a few ingredients, and somehow manage to throw together a halfway decent stir-fry. You may be broke, but you can cook. It’s one of the few things that hasn't gone completely sideways in your life.

You serve it up with a flourish, smirking a little. "Voilà, a proper meal. Happy now?"

Vil inspects the plate with his usual level of judgment. You half-expect him to whip out a magnifying glass and start searching for flaws. Finally, he takes a bite, chews thoughtfully, and then gives you a rare, grudging nod of approval.

"Surprisingly competent for someone who survives on garbage," he says, in what you can only assume is Vil’s version of high praise.

"Wow, a compliment. I feel blessed," you deadpan, but you’re grinning. It’s not every day you get validation from a fairy with standards so high he probably judges oxygen.

Vil continues eating, and you join him, secretly proud of the fact that you managed to cook something that didn’t send him into a rant about toxins and poor life choices. For a moment, the two of you sit in companionable silence, just… eating. It’s weirdly nice.

After you both finish, Vil leans back, looking mildly satisfied. "If you continue to feed yourself like a proper human being," he says, "you might actually survive your finals."

"Yeah, well, if I keep spending time with you, I might also survive on sheer fear," you mutter.

He smiles, that rare, dazzling smile that makes your brain short-circuit for a moment. "Fear is a good motivator. But I expect more than just survival from you. I expect excellence."

You groan. "You know, for a fairy who showed up because of my embarrassing begging, you sure do expect a lot."

Vil just smirks. "You begged for help. I’m making sure you don’t embarrass yourself further by failing."

"Touché," you admit, stuffing another bite of food into your mouth to avoid further conversation.

You know, maybe being insulted by the prettiest fairy in existence while eating fresh, organic food isn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you.

But soon enough, it was back to work. After the food debacle, you whipped up a fresh batch of moisturizer for him. It’s something you’ve done a thousand times before, so you’re not expecting much.

Then Vil tries it. And his entire face lights up like you’ve just handed him the elixir of eternal youth.

“This is… impressive,” he says, his voice soft with genuine surprise. “It’s incredibly hydrating, and the texture is—” He pauses, then flashes you a smile that’s so dazzling, it practically sparkles. “You’ve outdone yourself.”

And then, out of nowhere, he leans over and kisses you on the cheek.

You freeze.

Your brain flatlines.

“Wha—Did you just—?”

Vil pulls back, completely unfazed by the fact that he just KISSED YOU. “If you continue to make products of this quality, I may have to keep you around longer.”

Your heart is still trying to restart, but you manage to nod. “Yeah… yeah, sure. Skincare. I can do that.”

You stare at him, wondering if this is real life or if you’ve just died and gone to some bizarre, fairy-run skincare hell. Because if that’s what’s happening, it’s starting to feel weirdly okay. Especially with the way he’s smiling at you.

And as you walk away, still reeling, you catch yourself thinking, Is dropping out of the academy to become Vil’s personal skincare maker really such a bad idea?

Honestly? With a smile like that? You’re starting to think it’s the best idea.

You’ve finally survived—ahem mastered—the hell that was poisons and advanced magical theory under Vil’s terrifyingly perfect supervision. You can now confidently brew lethal concoctions and analyze obscure spells without mentally cursing out every deity you can name. That’s progress. But of course, your next subject is Magical Beasts, and because life apparently hates you, it’s your worst one yet.

When you express this to Vil, expecting some helpful advice or perhaps even a break (hah, wishful thinking), he just waves a hand dismissively.

“I’ll ask a friend for help,” he says simply.

And that’s how you end up in the presence of the most extra fairy you’ve ever seen in your life. (Okay, you’ve met a grand total of two fairies, but still.)

The fairy in question bursts into your study room in a whirlwind of sparkles and sheer chaos, trailing a cloud of rose petals and the distinct scent of overly expensive perfume. He’s tall and elegant, his wings shimmering with iridescent hues, and before you can so much as blink, he’s speaking a mile a minute in a mix of French and pure gibberish.

“Mon cher! Quelle horreur! This room is an insult to aesthetics! Non, non, I simply cannot work in these conditions!” he cries dramatically, gesturing wildly at your meticulously organized notes.

You blink. “…What?”

But he’s already prancing around, rearranging your books and scattering glitter like some kind of deranged fairy godmother. Then, with zero transition, Rook starts rambling about magical beasts and their habitats in a way that has your head spinning. One minute he’s critiquing your choice of ink color (“Black? How dull!”), and the next he’s rattling off obscure beast facts with the enthusiasm of a caffeinated professor.

“The Hippogriff prefers moonlight baths! Ah, and the Knarl must be serenaded with music, or it will—how you say?—stab you!” he chirps, waving his delicate hands around in a way that seems more dangerous than helpful.

You’re sitting there, bewildered and slightly concerned for your sanity. “Wait, wait, wait, so—hold up, what do I do if a Knarl shows up in the daytime?”

Rook stares at you like you’ve just asked if water is wet. “Why, you run, of course!” Then he bursts into laughter, as if this is the funniest joke he’s ever heard.

By the end of the afternoon, you’ve lost count of the number of strange and sometimes horrifying tidbits he’s thrown at you. You’re pretty sure you’ve somehow become an expert in magical beast theory without consciously realizing it, and the sheer absurdity of the situation is enough to make you feel like your brain’s been hijacked.

“And that,” the fairy declares with a dramatic twirl, “is how you tame a Chimaera!”

You blink, staring at your notes, which are now a colorful mess of drawings, beast diagrams, and snippets of what you hope are actual instructions and not just fashion advice. “…I feel like I’ve learned a lot. But also absolutely nothing.”

“Perfect!” he crows. “You have done magnifique!”

Before you can process what the heck just happened, you decide to thank him the only way you know how: by giving him a small, beautifully-packaged vial of a custom serum. You’ve worked hard on this formula, combining the best of alchemy and skincare magic, and as soon as you hand it to him, his eyes go wide.

“Pour moi? C’est incroyable!” He clutches it dramatically to his chest, as if you’ve just gifted him a crown jewel. Then, without warning, he’s leaning in way too close, inspecting your face with an intensity that borders on obsessive. “Mon Dieu, you are a true artiste! So beautiful! So—”

“Excuse me,” a low, frosty voice cuts in.

You turn just in time to see Vil gliding over, expression smooth but eyes narrowed. With the grace of a professional diplomat (or maybe a particularly possessive cat), he slips between the two of you, placing a firm hand on the other fairy’s shoulder and gently guiding him away from your personal space.

“Thank you for your assistance, Rook,” Vil says with a polite smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We appreciate your expertise, but I believe that’s enough for today.”

Rook pouts but finally relents. He throws one last, longing glance at your serum and then at you, as if you’re both equally captivating. “Ah, c’est dommage… I shall return!” With that, he flits off, leaving you standing there, more confused than ever.

You turn to Vil, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… thanks?”

But Vil isn’t looking at you like a savior. No, he’s looking at you like you’ve just betrayed his entire bloodline.

“Excuse me,” you ask, blinking in confusion. “Did… did I do something wrong?”

“You,” Vil says slowly, his voice dangerously soft, “are my skincare human.”

You stare at him. “Um. What?”

“Mine.” Vil’s gaze flickers pointedly between you and the direction Rook flew off in, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I did not agree to share your talents with anyone else.”

Oh. Oh.

“Vil,” you say, a grin spreading across your face despite yourself. “Are you… jealous?”

The way his expression shifts from imperious to indignant would almost be funny if it weren’t so incredibly satisfying. “Jealous?” he scoffs, tossing his hair back with a haughty flick. “Don’t be absurd.”

You glance pointedly at the pink tips of his ears, which are steadily darkening into a bright red.

“Riiight,” you say slowly. “Totally not jealous at all. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I’m not,” he insists, crossing his arms, but his voice is just a fraction too defensive.

“Sure, sure,” you say with a mock-serious nod, fighting to keep a straight face. “It’s just that, you know, your ears are kind of giving you away.”

Vil sputters, shooting you a glare that could melt glass. “You—!”

“I’m just saying!” you chirp, smirking as you lean back. “I’m your skincare human. Got it, boss.”

He narrows his eyes, but the flush on his ears betrays him. “Remember it,” he huffs, turning sharply on his heel. “And don’t you dare give away my products to anyone else without consulting me first.”

You watch him stalk off, your grin widening. Maybe studying under Vil isn’t so bad after all.

Finally, your last subject: Offensive Magic. You’re almost at the finish line, but there’s one little problem. Apparently, dueling Vil or Rook is a fast track to the afterlife, and you aren’t too keen on becoming a cautionary tale.

That’s how you find yourself facing off against the youngest of the bunch—a fairy named Epel. He looks as thrilled to be there as you are, which is to say, not at all.

“Vil made me do this,” he mutters under his breath, glaring at nothing in particular.

You quickly realize that Epel’s main emotion is mild resentment, which honestly? Relatable.

The duel begins, and you’re expecting something simple—maybe some low-level spells, something to pad out your barely passing grades. But then Epel smirks, lifts his hand, and suddenly, half the field explodes in a brilliant display of magic that has you rethinking your life choices. Like, seriously reconsidering everything that led you to this exact moment.

You’re left standing there, jaw practically on the floor as bits of dirt rain down around you. “Holy shit,” you breathe. “You’re so cool.”

Epel freezes. His eyes dart to you, clearly shocked by the praise, and he suddenly looks a lot less surly. “...Really?”

“Yeah! That was amazing! I didn’t even know you could do that!”

He rubs the back of his neck, trying to hide a smile. “Well, I’ve been practicing…”

And just like that, you’re friends. Bonded over the mutual understanding that Offensive Magic is both terrifying and awesome when Epel’s involved.

Later that day, after a lesson where you actually didn’t almost explode yourself (personal growth!), you, Vil, and Epel are lounging in the forest. Rook’s off doing...whatever mysterious thing he does, leaving you all in relative peace. You’re casually chatting about the lessons when Epel, totally offhandedly, drops the biggest bomb of the century.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty lucky the king of the fairies decided to help you out.”

You blink. “The what?”

Epel gives you a look like you’ve just asked if the moon was real. “The king of the fairies. You know, Vil.”

You almost choke. “Vil’s the king of the fairies?” Your voice cracks like you’ve hit puberty again.

Vil, lounging nearby, doesn’t even flinch. “Didn’t I mention that?”

“NO. YOU DIDN’T.”

“Well, now you know.”

You stare at him, mind reeling. “I’ve been—wait—what in the Sevens—you’re the king of the fairies? And you just—casually tutor people? Like it’s no big deal?!”

Vil sighs, flipping through a book as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “I thought it was obvious.”

“It was not obvious!” You’re flailing at this point, and Epel is snickering behind his hand, clearly enjoying your existential crisis.

Vil’s still cool as a cucumber, but when you stammer, “No wonder you’re the most beautiful fairy I’ve ever seen,” you catch the faintest flicker of a smirk on his face. He straightens up just a little bit, clearly preening at the compliment.

Rook suddenly appears out of nowhere, laughing like he’s just witnessed the funniest thing in his life. “Ah! How charming! Our humble little mage finally sees the light!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, feeling your face heat up. “This is too much. My brain can’t handle this.”

The lesson ends, and you decide to thank Vil the only way you know how—by crafting him a night cream as a parting gift. You’ve gotten pretty good at making skincare, and you can tell he’s been eyeing this particular blend.

But then, in a rare moment of what can only be described as vulnerability, Vil hands you the jar and says, “Could you…apply it for me?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

He’s holding it out to you, but he’s not meeting your eyes, and—wait, are his hands shaking? You squint. Is he nervous?

Nah. Can’t be. Vil doesn’t do nervous.

“Sure,” you say, trying not to overthink it. You take the jar and start gently massaging the cream into his flawless skin. Vil closes his eyes, and for a moment, it’s almost…peaceful.

“You’re really good at this,” he murmurs.

You smile to yourself, oblivious to the emotional storm brewing inside him. “Thanks! I’ve been practicing.”

What you don’t realize is that this was your last lesson. Vil knows this. And for some reason, it’s hitting him hard. He’s spent all this time tutoring you, teaching you everything he knows, and now…you won’t need him anymore. You won’t come back. You’ll pass your exams and move on with your life, leaving him behind. And the thought of that—it stings more than he wants to admit.

Meanwhile, you’re completely unaware of his inner turmoil, humming to yourself as you finish applying the cream. “There you go. All set!”

You stretch, packing up your things, already mentally planning your next skincare batch for him. “Well, I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Wait.” Vil’s voice is soft, almost hesitant. You blink as he suddenly pulls you into a hug, catching you completely off guard.

“Uh…Vil?”

He’s holding you tightly, and when he speaks, his voice is a little sad. “Good luck.”

You frown, confused. “Why do you sound so sad? I'll pass my exams for sure after all your help.”

He doesn’t respond. You shrug and hug him back, giving him a gentle squeeze. “Alright, see you later, drama king.”

And with that, you stroll off, leaving Vil standing there, still holding on to the weight of his unspoken feelings.

Rook, watching from a distance, smiles knowingly. “Ah, how bittersweet…”

Epel just rolls his eyes. “Man, this is like watching a soap opera.”

You passed your exams. Scratch that—you topped them. You’re basically an academic legend now, leaving everyone wondering what kind of ancient god you made a pact with. The professors are whispering your name like you’re some ancient prodigy who’s been secretly acing exams since the dawn of time.

Naturally, you’ve decided to celebrate by making your magnum opus: the most legendary lip balm the world has ever seen. The kind of balm that could revive a dying star, or, more realistically, soothe the chapped lips of a certain fussy fairy.

With your glorious lip balm in hand, you set off to the forest to see Vil. The path is familiar, and yet, today something feels... off. The trees look droopy, the flowers are wilting—like someone forgot to water this whole section of the forest.

“Oh, great,” you mutter, stepping over a vine that looks like it’s given up on life. “Did everyone just forget what hydration is?”

When you reach Vil’s cottage, your gut instinct kicks into overdrive.

Something’s wrong. Really wrong. Your heart is racing. You knock once. Twice. Still nothing. Panic sets in, and before you know it, you’re knocking the door clean off its hinges in your haste.

“Oops,” you whisper, but there’s no time to dwell on it because you see someone on the bed. It’s Vil, and he’s looking about as far from his usual flawless self as you’ve ever seen. He’s feverish, pale, and frankly, it kind of looks like he's dying.

“Vil!” you rush over, shaking him gently. He opens his eyes, squinting at you like you’re an overly bright light in the middle of his fever dream.

“I didn’t know hallucinations could be so vivid,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse.

“What hallucinations? I’m real!” You’re practically crying now, shaking him harder. He just smiles faintly, completely convinced that you’re some fever-induced mirage.

Fantastic. Not only is he sick, but he also thinks you’re a figment of his imagination.

Frantically, you start brewing a cooling potion, your hands shaking as you mix the ingredients. Vil just watches you with a dazed, slightly amused expression, like he’s impressed that his hallucination has such a good grasp on potion-making.

“I’m real,” you repeat, as you pour the potion down his throat. He gives a tiny nod before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Cue full-on panic mode. You don’t know what’s happening or why Vil’s like this, so you do the only thing you can think of—you send a carrier pigeon to Rook, because of course fairies don’t have phones.

Rook shows up in record time, practically gliding into the cottage like some kind of majestic hunting bird. He takes one look at the pitiful scene—Vil feverish and weak, you hovering like an anxious mother hen—and smiles.

“Oh, he’s heartbroken,” Rook declares, as if that explains everything.

“Heartbroken?!” you echo, disbelief dripping from every syllable. “I saw him two days ago, and he was fine. How could he be heartbroken in two days?!”

“Ah,” Rook says, his eyes twinkling with dramatic flair, “fairies can only fall in love once, and when they do, they fall hard. He thought you wouldn’t return after your exams. He was suffering in silence, believing you’d move on without him.”

You stare at Rook, dumbfounded. “Is he blind?!” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been horrendously in love with him since day one! How could he not notice?”

Rook just beams at you, like you’ve confirmed his favorite romantic theory. “Ah, l’amour. So tragic, yet so beautiful.”

At this point, you’re ready to throw your hands up in frustration. How does Vil not notice? You’ve been making him skincare products, practically living in his cottage, and hovering over him like a lovesick puppy. Could he really think you were just going to leave? But of course, Vil—being Vil—had assumed you’d outgrow him and move on to something better, leaving him behind like a discarded serum bottle.

With renewed determination, you take care of Vil, nursing him back to health with potions and plenty of water. You even manage to coax him to eat something other than the fairy equivalent of air-dried kale. Slowly, he starts looking more like himself, his fever fading and his color returning. But when he finally wakes up, fully lucid, his eyes widen in shock.

“You... you’re real?” he whispers, staring at you like you’re some miraculous vision.

“Yes, I’m real,” you huff, crossing your arms. “And I made this.” You pull out the lip balm you’ve been working on, your prized creation. You swipe some on your lips and then lean down to kiss him.

Vil blinks, stunned into silence. After a moment, a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s... a surprisingly effective balm.”

You grin, feeling the tension melt away. “Maybe you should test it again.”

Vil wastes no time, pulling you in for another kiss, his lips soft and cool from the balm. He kisses you a second time, then a third—because, well, it’s important to make sure the balm has long-lasting effects, right?

But then, you pull back slightly, the grin slipping from your face. “Vil, I... I passed all my exams. I even got an offer to move to the capital.”

Vil’s entire body tenses. His hands, still resting on your waist, tighten slightly as his eyes flicker with something you can’t quite place—fear? Dread? Whatever it is, it’s like a storm cloud settling over him.

“Oh.” His voice is soft, but there’s a weight to it, like he’s bracing himself for the inevitable. “I see.”

You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself so carefully, as if preparing for you to tell him you’re leaving. That you’re going to take the offer and disappear from his life, just like he feared. He’s already trying to let you go, even as his hands tremble slightly against your waist. It hits you all at once—how terrified he must have been, thinking you’d leave him behind.

For a moment, you just watch him, your heart aching at the sight of his barely concealed distress. And then, finally, you say, “I declined the offer.”

Vil’s breath catches. His eyes snap up to yours, wide with disbelief. “You... you what?”

You smile, leaning in closer. “I declined. I’m not going anywhere, Vil. In fact...” You take a deep breath, your grin widening. “I’m opening a skincare shop right here, on the edge of the forest. And I’m going to live here. With you. No arguments.”

For a moment, Vil just stares at you, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Then, slowly, the tension in his body dissolves, replaced by pure, unfiltered relief. His hands, which had been shaking moments ago, steady as they pull you closer, wrapping you in a tight embrace.

“You’re staying?” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’m staying,” you confirm, your heart swelling at the way he’s holding you, like he’s afraid to let go.

Vil presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I love you,” he murmurs, his voice so soft, you almost miss it.

Your heart skips a beat. You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too, drama king.”

Vil huffs out a small, breathy laugh, pulling you down into the bed with him, his arms wrapped securely around you. For a moment, everything is still, peaceful, as you lie there together, tangled in each other’s arms. Neither of you says a word, content just to hold each other, the weight of the past few days finally lifting.

And as you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth, knowing that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—by Vil’s side, where you’ve always belonged.

I'm so deeply in love with this man it's kinda embarrassing

Masterlist

[devildom-moss]

October poll story

Barbatos - Monster kink

(Barbatos x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (top!Barbatos / bottom!MC) (NSFW tags: monster!Barbatos - non-canon/enhanced demonic features including increased greed and lust, claws, sharp teeth, forked tongue that matches his tail, bigger tail, and bigger "tail"; sex involving magic; no specified sex organs for MC; oral - receiving; penetration - receiving; tail penetration; double stuffed by one man - tail and penis penetration simultaneously; technically masturbation; mild bloodplay, mild primal play; begging; multiple orgasms; seriously judging myself at this point CNC - Somno; mild temperature play; implied being used as a human sex toy; no lube - but tail is naturally wet, so mostly no lube; no condom; overstim - receiving; creampie; mentions of very trusting sex)

(other tags: Plot heavy - in the first half, then it basically all erotica, everyone is annoyed with Solomon poor guy kinda?)

Word Count: +4,600 new longest fic for me?

When you heard that Diavolo was going on an overnight trip without Barbatos, you knew you had to go to the castle and get as much alone time as you could with your favorite butler. Considering that Diavolo was also being left in Lucifer’s very capable hands during the trip, you figured Barbatos wouldn’t be in the anxious state that typically overcame him when Lord Diavolo wasn’t under his close watch. So, when you turned up unannounced at the castle that morning only for Little D. no. 2 to answer the door, something seemed off. You tried not to worry, though. Barbatos was probably preoccupied with one of his many tasks.

“Well, if it isn’t Number 2, how are you doing today?” You smiled and patted his head.

“MC! I’m so happy to see you! Are you here to visit Mr. Barbatos? Ooh, I wonder if he’ll come out of his room for you. No one has seen him at all this morning, and when I knocked on his door to check for him, I heard this weird noise before he asked me to leave him alone. Can you believe that? Well, I thought maybe he wasn’t feeling good, so I brought him some tea – now, it wasn’t anywhere near as good as the tea he makes, but when I brought it, he told me that it wasn’t necessary. I left it at the door, but guess what? When I checked back, the tea was cold and untouched. I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to call anyone yet because that seems like something Mr. Barbatos would get mad at me for, but since you’re already here, maybe you could check on him and make sure he’s okay.” The monologue recounting this morning’s events spilled from Number 2’s mouth quickly and with no room for interruption.

Without much thought, you had followed Number 2 in the direction of Barbatos’s room – some attempt to physically follow along with his story as your brain processed the information. You let the words absorb into your mind, fishing for a relevant question. It was already past 10AM. Barbatos was always up and about by now. “Did he sound sick?”

“Can’t say. If not sick, he definitely sounded strange – like he was talking with his mouth half-full or something.” Number 2 hummed and tilted his head to the side. “Or, you know how when you bite your tongue or burn it on your soup because it smells too good not to eat it right away – even though Mr. Barbatos warned you to be careful and let it cool?”

“Sure.” You shook your head and stared down the hall. Barbatos’s room was just a few doors down.

“Anyway, I think something is wrong, so I’d really appreciate it if you could look out for Mr. Barbatos. If he really is sick, you’ll take care of him, right?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Great.” Little D. no. 2 stopped in front of Barbatos’s door and turned around to face you. “I’ll leave it to you. I’m sure the rest of us can find a way to keep the castle running while you tend to Mr. Barbatos, so don’t worry about anything else!”

“Thank you, Number 2. You’re so reliable.” You could tell how worried and eager to help he was. Number 2 nodded and left you outside of Barbatos’s door. You stood there silently for a second, listening for any strange noises or coughs, before gently knocking. “Barbatos, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“MC?” Your name was quiet and muffled.

“Barbatos? I’m going to enter, alright?”

“Wait. I –” he started to protest in an unusually slurred speech, but it was too late. You had already opened the door.

Barbatos’s eyes seemed to glow in the dim light of his bedroom. He had backed himself against the nearest wall. His typically gloved hands were bare, revealing sharp, claw-like nails. One of those hands shot up over his mouth. You heard his tail thump against the wall a few times before he grabbed it with his free hand, stilling its aggravated motions.

“What’s wrong?” you asked him cautiously. He looked different – more demonic than usual.

“Solomon,” Barbatos responded with his hand still over his mouth, only exacerbating his strange enunciation. He was frozen in place.

Of course. You sighed and shut your eyes. What did he do this time? You closed the door behind you and took a few steps into the room. Barbatos eyed you with every move – even as you reached into your pocket to pull out your D.D.D.

“I’ll call him, okay?”

You waited for the phone to ring once before you put it on speaker. Solomon picked up in seconds. “MC, my adorable apprentice, what can I do for you?”

“What the fuck did you do to Barbatos?” you asked him aggressively.

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong with him, and he said it’s your fault.” Technically, that was a bit of a jump considering the facts you had at hand, but it was a logical conclusion.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Let’s see, slightly glowing eyes and the sudden appearance of claws to start. And – if you don’t mind me adding, Barbatos – his tail looks bigger than before.”

“His tail . . .is bigger?”

“Longer. Thicker. Girthier. Do you need more adjectives?”

“Just his tail?”

“For fucks sake. I didn’t strip him down and give him a full body exam.”

Solomon hummed. “Anything else?”

“He sounds weird – like he has a lisp.” You glanced over at Barbatos, whose cheeks had grown pinker since the beginning of the call. He dropped his hand slowly and opened his mouth, revealing sharp teeth and a long, forked tongue that looked like his tail. A shiver shot down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath before adding, “that’s new.”

“What’s new?” Solomon asked, unable to disguise his intrigue.

“Sharp teeth and a forked tongue.”

You heard a breezy laugh on the other end of the line. “So, good news: I figured out what happened. I accidentally swapped the magical tea blend I made for Barbatos with the one I made for Asmodeus. Oops.”

“Oops?” You sighed while Barbatos let out a low, guttural growl.

“Asmo asked me for a tea to enhance some of his more demonic features for a photoshoot. It seems Barbatos got Asmo’s tea, so Asmo – oh, speak of the devil. He’s calling.”

“Add him to our call.” You looked over at Barbatos, wishing you could apologize for Solomon’s behavior silently.

“What gives, Solomon? Your tea was a total flop. I tested it as soon as I got up this morning. I wanted to check out my enhanced demon features before the shoot tomorrow – maybe indulge in them a bit on my own. Nothing has happened. You promised quick results. I’m still my same, gorgeous self, and all your stupid potion did was give me the urge to organize all of my make-up and tidy half of my closet. I was really depending on you to come through for me here.” Asmo complained, clearly annoyed by Solomon’s failure.

“You basically made Adderall tea for Barbatos?” you asked, staring between Barbatos and your phone.

“Barbatos?” Asmo questioned. “Also, hey, MC~! Are you calling to yell at Solomon, too?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” You nodded.

“Can I speak?” Solomon added quickly, coming to his own defense since no one else was going to. “First, Barbatos asked for something to soothe him and enhance productivity so he could make good use of his day without Diavolo. Second, we had a little mix up, Asmo –”

“ – we?” you interrupted.

“Okay, I had a mix up. You have the blend I made for Barbatos. Barbatos took some of yours. MC is with him now.”

“Ooh. Enhanced demon form Barbatos sounds sexy. Does he look sexy, MC?” Asmo cooed.

“Focus, Asmo,” you responded, too embarrassed to admit the truth. Well, the truth other than that Solomon clearly sucked at making magical Adderall.

“Asmo. I have plenty of the magical blend I made for you left over. I’ll bring it by in a bit, alright? Will that resolve everything on your end?” Solomon’s voice sounded sweet, but there was a grave calmness to it.

“Yes.”

“Then hang up and wait for me, please.” Asmo did as Solomon asked, leaving the sorcerer to clean up the rest of his mess. “As for you and Barbatos, MC, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do to reverse the effects. Depending on how much he drank, it should wear off anywhere within a few minutes to a full day. Until then, I suggest you leave Barbatos alone. All of his demonic senses are heightened – that includes his urges. He may be dangerous to be around until the effects clear up.”

You looked at Barbatos. His glowing eyes were wide and damp, and his gaze hadn’t left you once during the entire call; even when you looked away, you could feel him staring. His knuckles were white from gripping his tail so tightly. He was even trembling slightly. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t do that. He looks miserable like this. I’m not leaving him. It’ll be fine, just trust me.”

“MC.” Solomon wanted to warn you against it again, but there was no use in arguing with you. “Be careful and call me if you need me.”

“Alright, and Solomon? Learn how to label your shit.” You said it sweetly, but he knew you were livid.

“Sorry! Don’t be mad.”

You hung up the phone and returned your attention to Barbatos. He backed away, pressing his shoulders flush against the wall, as you approached him. It was hard to believe that this was a more demonic version of Barbatos. He seemed so timid and scared. Slowly, you reached your hand out to smooth his hair down. His low growl echoed off the walls like there was thunder muffled inside his chest.

Barbatos gulped and opened his mouth to speak, showing you a glimpse of those magic-sharpened teeth and that tongue – now forked and dyed black and aqua. Overcome by a sudden shyness about his new state, Barbatos covered his mouth again to speak. His breath was unsteady, and his words were quiet. “You should go.”

“But you look miserable. Isn’t there something I can do to help?”

Barbatos dropped his hand, and his gaze followed, landing on the floor. “Help? Please don’t tempt me when I’m like this. I’ve been holding back since you walked into that door – since I first caught your scent from down the hall, if I’m honest.”

You inched closer, testing the waters – testing his control before you cupped his cheeks in your hands and searched his face. When you finally caught his gaze, you realized up-close how unusually terrified he was. You’d never seen him like this, and it only made you want to protect him more – to soothe the fear this spell had pulled from him. Barbatos bit his lip, and for a second you worried he might draw blood, but he didn’t.

“Please,” Barbatos begged with a shaky exhale. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, hoping to ease his mind. “Don’t touch me any further. I’ll only want more. I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Greed. That was his innate sin. You knew that, and it had never been a concern – even when he lost control. There was always a spark of fear – worry on the lighter days – in his eyes when you caused his composure to faulter. It flashed like lightning. Sometimes, you had to wonder if you had seen anything at all or if your eyes – if his eyes – were playing tricks on you.

The love Barbatos offered was a love that said, “I would like to cherish you always. I will treat you sweetly, and if I must be rough, it will be thoughtful and restrained.” He had never pushed your limits – never even toed the line – unless you asked him to. Now, he was warning you that he did not know his own limits. A dark, selfish, possessive need in him threatened to take everything you would offer him and then some. Barbatos was pleading with you to turn him down, to not indulge him. This was your last chance, and you knew it. All his willpower, reduced into one last-ditch effort to dissuade your trust in him – a final, feeble, “please.”

When you brought your lips to his, it was over. Until that potion wore off, he could indulge his greed until he was sick and bursting with sin; until every ounce of it had spilled over into you, you had committed to take it.

Barbatos wasted no time deepening the kiss. His forked tongue slithered into your mouth, wet and oddly cool compared to the heat of his breath. It wasn’t unpleasant; in fact, you felt a slight shame in how erotic you found this strange new sensation. His tongue entwined with yours like it had never done before. Barbatos also found himself aroused by his new abilities – even more so when you moaned for him. Eager to explore further, Barbatos plunged his tongue deeper down your throat until you could barely breathe. You felt seconds – millimeters – away from gagging on him and pressed against his chest, trying to break the kiss.

Barbatos pulled away, allowing your lungs to recover, but the desperation on his face was worse than ever. Panting and ravenous, he spoke in half-growls: “More. I need more.”

His impatience displayed itself in the way he stripped you of your clothes – reckless with buttons and balling the fabric up tightly in his hands. All the restraint he had went towards refraining from tearing your clothes to shreds. He needed access to more of your body, and with every bit of skin he revealed, Barbatos licked, sucked, and bit part of your exposed flesh.

The feeling of his cool tongue gliding up your forearm made you shiver. Barbatos sank his sharp teeth into your shoulder, breaking the skin and sending a tingling pain through your body. He soothed it by running his soft tongue over the bite mark in slow circles before he licked a trail up your neck, paving a path for him to place hickeys along. Time was lost to you between Barbatos sucking your neck and pawing at your naked body. The sensation of his claws gently scraping along your lower back left you arching into him.

When Barbatos was satisfied with his assault on your neck, he dropped to your chest, marking you and teasing your nipples between the prongs of his tongue. For someone who claimed to be unable to control himself, he sure was taking his sweet time building up your pleasure. If he hadn’t dipped between your legs when he did, you might have found yourself reduced to begging for him.

Barbatos took in the sight of how aroused he had gotten you. His breathing was labored, causing his chest and shoulders to heave. He had waited long enough. You felt his tail wrap around your thigh and pull you closer until you were right in front of his face. His warm breath primed your body for that first, slow, tender lick. Followed by another. Then, one more before his tongue was swirling circles around you. He sucked and licked you ravenously, moaning repeatedly into your body. Barbatos’s moaning was peppered with the occasional growl – reminding you, lest the lust caused you to forget, that Barbatos was an untethered beast.

He clawed up your thighs in the same ravenous manner. Claws sank into the flesh of your ass and thighs, scratching you and pulling you back against him whenever you had squirmed too far away for his liking. You couldn’t escape the constant barrage of stimulation and pleasure. Barbatos refused to stop until he pulled an orgasm out of you. Even then, he overstimulated your sensitive skin with a few teasing licks, cleaning up some of the mess he had made of you. Your knees buckled, but Barbatos got to his feet and pulled you close to support you.

You had not even caught your breath nor come down from your high before Barbatos was kissing you again. He slipped his cum-stained tongue back down your throat, ensuring that you tasted yourself. A low growl rumbled deep in Barbatos’s chest that shook you to your core. The storm had not passed. You weren’t even in the eye of it yet.

As Barbatos continued to kiss you, the familiar sensation of his tail wrapping around your thigh caught your attention. This time, instead of pulling you close, he pulled your legs apart. Had he not been holding you tight, you would have stumbled with the sudden jolt. The silky tips of his forked-tendril-like tail teased between your legs in gentle alternating strokes, occasionally lingering to cup you for a few seconds before the pressure slipped away. Barbatos was building you up all over again. You gripped his shoulders, simultaneously trying to ground and support yourself.

Despite the cloud of lust disorienting him, Barbatos recognized the signs of your weakness and dragged you towards his bed. Even as he pulled you across the room, his tail refused to stop teasing you and preparing you for what was to come. Barbatos had no sooner finally stopped kissing you when your back hit his mattress with a soft thud. Staring up at him, you saw a distorted image of the demon you adored. Maybe it was the enhanced demonic features and those glowing green eyes, or maybe it was the look on his face that told you he was not quite the same Barbatos. His hunger for you had never been this strong – perhaps it would never be this primal and ferocious again. Repressing any fear or hesitation, you wanted to revel in his uninhibited lust.

Fortunately, Barbatos’s tail had a natural wetness to it that aided in the insertion. He lacked the clarity and patience to apply lube before the tips of his tail squirmed into your body. Barbatos delighted in the way your face contorted in pleasure – how you bit your lip to hold back a moan. The prongs of his tail felt cool and soft as they stretched you out, applying pressure to the most sensitive places inside of you. You writhed under him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to touch you more.

Barbatos scratched his claws gently down your ribs and towards your navel. He fucked deeper into you with his tail and applied slight pressure to your pelvis with his palm, stretching his fingers out above your stomach. Those claws loomed threateningly above your skin while his tail pumped in and out of you. You thought his tail had looked bigger than before, but now you could feel just how much thicker he was. However, you only had a few seconds to dwell on the size before the threat of claws came to fruition and dug into your stomach. The outermost layer of skin split for him, and five distinct pink marks appeared on your stomach; he nearly drew blood. You whined at the pain, but the way your back arched and your muscles tightened told Barbatos that you were in more pleasure than pain.

A brief flash of normalcy came when you heard Barbatos chuckle and saw his lips tug into a wicked smile. “Are you cumming again?”

The noises you were making as another wave of intense pleasure overtook you were the only response Barbatos needed. He was kind enough to slow the movements of his tail as you tried to bring yourself down. It wasn’t fair. Barbatos was making you feel incredible. You were supposed to be the one taking care of him, but there you were, stripped and writhing on your back. All the while, Barbatos was still fully clothed – barring the lack of his standard gloves which had already been removed prior to your arrival. You wanted to make him feel good too.

You reached out for his pants, trying to undo them so you could at least touch him, but Barbatos took hold of your hands and stopped you. “Please, let me focus on you for a bit longer. Please?”

There was no sweetness in his begging – only desperation. It was less of a plea and more of a demand. Refusal seemed off the table, even if you chose it, but you couldn’t. You could hardly refuse Barbatos when he said “please” under normal circumstances – and even less so when he stared at you with such wanton desire.

Barbatos entwined his fingers with yours and held your hands while he watched you come apart on his tail. The way you rolled your hips to get him to press the spot that left your mouth agape was so cute. If he had been gifted with more patience and less greed, Barbatos would have relished in the sight of you fucking yourself on his tail and using him – especially in the exhausted, fucked-out state you were in. Did you realize how flushed you were? Could you feel how hot your skin had become? Were you aware that you had scarcely stopped whimpering and moaning for him in the last few minutes?

“You’re taking it so well,” Barbatos cooed. His affectionate gaze held your attention, even as he pulled another intense wave of pleasure from you. Something about the dim glow of his eyes captivated you. “You’re doing such a good job for me, but can you keep it up?”

Barbatos slid his tail half-way out of you as he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. He was trying to go back down on you, but with no opportunity to recover, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. You tugged his hair and stopped his lips and tongue from overstimulating you, earning a whine from him.

“Barbatos, I need you to fuck me now,” you demanded. You couldn’t take another round without at least making him cum once.

Barbatos savored that desperation in you – even if it was just a fraction of his own. He nuzzled your inner thigh playfully. “Just one more taste?”

“No.” You pulled his hair again and made him look at you. “I need it now.”

“Very well.” Barbatos pulled his tail out of you completely and got to his feet. For a second, the way he spoke was so calm that you believed the tea must have been wearing off. Those shining green eyes stayed fixed on your body as he removed his clothes, tossing them into a dark corner of the room. Perhaps the storm was showing signs of passing.

When Barbatos dropped his pants, you couldn’t keep your eyes off the bulge in his underwear and the damp stain, but he didn’t stay contained for long. He stripped fully, finally releasing his cock. He was so hard, and he dripped precum onto the floor. Your mouth watered. Well, if Solomon asked again, it wasn’t just Barbatos’s tail that was bigger than usual. However, you had already taken his tail; you could take this, too. You wanted it.

Your eyes glanced back up at Barbatos’s face as he aligned himself, rubbing his dick against your entrance. Those glowing eyes caught yours, stalling your breath. Even in the dim lighting, those eyes now seemed to be the darkest thing in the room. A low, satisfied growl escaped Barbatos – the last warning from a predator closing in on his prey. The storm was not over, you had merely found yourself in the eye of it for one brief, relenting moment.

He rocked his hips into you, relying on precum and the combined fluids from you and his tail to lubricate himself as he slowly pushed every inch he could get into you. You gasped. The sensation was so different from his tail – so much warmer, pulsating and throbbing inside of you. That initial slow thrust was for your benefit, but it was not intended to set his pace. Barbatos quickly picked up speed, transitioning into rapid, shallow thrusts that repeatedly rubbed against your walls. Still, he seemed to be focusing on maximizing your pleasure.

“I need more,” Barbatos warned you, but you were drowning in too much pleasure, moaning and panting beneath him, to register his warning.

Instead, you whimpered at the shock of Barbatos slipping his tail inside of you. The forked ends swirled around Barbatos’s cock as he continued fucking you, stimulating you both at the same time. It felt like thick, cool, squirming ridges around a hot, throbbing core. Not even an advanced toy could do this to you. But it wasn’t enough for him. Barbatos reached down between your legs to stimulate you further – somehow lucid enough to take care not to scratch you. His touch was light and gentle, contrasting his other insatiable actions, and making your head spin. It was all too much for you. You came again, tightening around Barbatos as you did. He kept fucking you through it.

A pleased moan escaped Barbatos, signaling that he was close. His hands slid up your body slowly, and then, without warning, he clawed down your sides and grabbed your hips. A stinging sensation immediately followed. He gripped your hips so firmly that his claws broke the skin as he forced himself so deep into you that it almost ached. Barbatos gave you a few more deep thrusts before he bottomed out and held you in place. He pumped his cum into the deepest parts of you, filling you up.

Barbatos lolled his head back with a sigh and a smirk. His chest heaved. It took you squirming against his pelvis for Barbatos to realize that he was still holding your hips up against him. He slid his cock out of you, released his tail’s grip around himself, and gently laid you back down.

You looked so blissful and exhausted, but Barbatos had just gotten started. Simply looking at your flushed face and heaving chest was making him hard again. He caressed your cheek; some of the blood he had drawn from clawing at your hips smeared onto your skin. Barbatos leaned down and licked up the mess. When your cheek was clean once more, Barbatos whispered into your ear, “I’m so sorry, lovely. I’m not done. Do I have your permission to keep going?”

His words floated around your hazy mind. You smiled at him affectionately with your eyes half-lidded and reached up to stroke his cheek. Exhaustion was overcoming you. “Yes. Take whatever you need until you feel better.”

“Even if you fall asleep?” Barbatos asked with some of the timidness from earlier.

“Even if I pass out. Even if it hurts. Even if I cry. Be as greedy as you have to be with me.” Maybe you were cum-drunk. Or maybe you just wanted to make Barbatos feel better. Either way, you resigned yourself to being used for the next few minutes or hours or days.

“Thank you, my love.” Barbatos kissed your cheek sweetly.

You watched the dim glow of his eyes dreamily, focusing on them until the rest of the room began to disappear. With your body spent, all you could do was whimper as you felt Barbatos enter you again. Even the pleasure began to dull as you let yourself slip further into the haze. His deep growls and panting were the last thing you heard as your mind fell silent.

Your last thought before a sweet dream swept over you was that, without a doubt, Barbatos would be a mix of grateful and apologetic when you woke up again.

In the morning, Barbatos would ensure you were hydrated, well-fed, and tended to. He would be an affectionate, doting butler for you. And then, someone would have a hefty price to pay.

A/N: I did not think this was going to end up so long, but please enjoy. I am worried I got a little too carried away here. . . but this was still the less deranged Barbatos monster kink idea. Anyway, requests are open and will be until the end of Nov. 5th. And I hope this one does something for some of you.

[sixosix]

cw injuries, desc of blood, scara patching reader up, profanity bc its a sixosix fic AND it’s scara, wc 500

for @scarahearts the craziest scara main

“so annoying,” wanderer hisses under his breath, cursing again. his breath is on your skin, almost as scorching as the scowl he’s wearing. “infuriating. is your hobby getting on people’s nerves?”

“is your hobby degrading your patients?” you retort, then yelp when he tightens the bandage a little too hard. “ow— fuck you!”

he smirks smugly at your defeated glare, but it fades quickly and back to a frown when blood seeps from the cloth. 

you murmur and fidget, “sorry for inconveniencing you.”

his gaze snaps up, sharp. that was probably the wrong thing to say.

“thanks for helping me…?” you try instead. he rolls his eyes.

wanderer stares at your plastered arm for a moment too long, eyes tracing the curve of your elbow, where blood is seeping and staining the once beige bandage dirty red. he then sneers, a snarl of teeth; you can almost see in his eyes where he’s replaying the exact moment you were picked up and thrown to the ground.

you almost want to say that shouki no kami did the same thing to you (read: the balladeer himself), but you have a feeling that those canines aren’t for show, and he’ll end up biting your arm off or something.

you’re startled out of your skin when he suddenly grabs your chin with his hand, rough and demanding you to get a clear view of his displeased expression. ...and yet the grip he has on your injured arm is gentle. a mess of contradictions, a push and a pull, a scowl and a brush of skin—hate, and love.

“when will it get in your fucking head—” he enunciates each word by pulling you closer and closer to him, until your faces are a heavy breath away, “—that you have travel companions for a reason? am i just for show? a doll for you to show off?”

instinctively, you back away, a little bit of fear racing in your heart at the familiar hostile face he’s making. “it’s not that! it’s— i wasn’t— thinking.”

“right. because nothing ever goes in that pretty little head of yours,” wanderer muses, readily agreeing.

“hey,” you fume, face burning.

“you disagree? prove me wrong, then.” he still doesn’t let go of your face. and although puppets do not need to breathe, there’s warm air shared between the two of you where his lips are in close distance with yours. “prove to me that you aren’t forgetting i can fight just as well as you. that i am completely capable of protecting myself and you.”

“that’s not…” you want to say that your little incident didn’t involve any of that, but his gaze is fierce. you realize that it may not be your intention, but it might be what came off to him. “...okay.”

after a beat, you add; an afterthought, “you don’t have to protect me. you saw that i was able to beat their asses easi—” at his unimpressed stare, you correct yourself, “—with a bit of slipping here and there. still, i won.”

“not without an almost severed arm.”

without thinking too much about it, you say, “let’s protect each other, then.”

surprise flits across wanderer’s expression before it settles into something like muted satisfaction. “don’t make it a promise, so you can’t break it.” it’s the closest you can get a ‘yes’ out of him.

im gonna be honest i dont know where this came from like i literally tokd myself if im gonna write a genshin fic itll be HEIZOU. but this bitch held me hostage at 2am with a phone and google docs open — and then i made it happen fr for ellie cus we both lost our minds over the scara art in the 3.8 stream

[toomiieimagiines]

hihihihihi

rui kamishiro having crush on his friend (reader) n then confessing to them by accident like they r handing out one day and he quietly says ‘i love you so much’ without realising

please and tyy <333 have a good day darl!!

THIS IS THE CUTEST REQUEST EVERRR!!! UGHHH MY HEART HURTS! i saw your other submission, i’m just replying to this one because it’s the actual request!! ur the best, thank you all for so many asks! this is the longest thing i’ve written on here! this sparked me with so much inspiration!! sorry if it gets a little emo, i’ve not been feeling all that well myself recently mentally! ^_^” sorry for projecting on you rui!

CW: it gets really angsty, but it’s a hurt comfort, i promise! food as a metaphor for love at the beginning. reverse comfort. rui is autistic coded sorry i just can’t help myself

Rui Kamishiro is an idiot.

Rui had a problem.

A problem that swelled up in his stomach, travelled to his chest, and landed in a horrible place- his heart. He didn’t even notice it at first too, the warmth in the back of his throat, the burning in his lungs. Countless days sitting at his desk, mindless tinkering with something, wondering why he suddenly felt so apprehensive around you. A shocking pain filled his gut,

Rui Kamishiro was in love with one of his best friends.

He couldn’t stop it. He tried to snap himself out of it- he really did! He knows he can’t feel that way, knows it isn’t right. He feels so perverted every time he’s next to you because all he can think of is how your lips would feel on his, how sweet your gaze is on him, how you’d warm his cold hands-

God, he’s the worst. Thoughts would slurry through his head every time you’re near. You’re his friend! He should be thankful you want to speak to him, it’s selfish to feel this way about somebody, especially somebody like you.

He truly believes that close relationships like those, are not for the likes of him.

He braces himself for the day you realize that he would be no good as a lover - he’s sure you know - but he comes to a gut wrenching epiphany that he doesn’t seem to mind all the much how you’re in his life. He loves you, but you like him, and he can deal with that. He can take friendship, what he can’t take is disgust, that’d be agony to him, so he’ll make sure you never feel that way towards him.

He locks his feelings deep inside where nobody can ever find them. Not you, not Nene, not anybody.

And he’s okay. Truly, genuinely, okay with it. He should take what he can get. He should be grateful you talk to him.

He sighs, lost in his thoughts, you shoot him a look. He shouldn’t have done that, he laments, he’s probably gone and worried you.

Class ends quickly, he dodges you ‘till lunch time.

You find him, you always were good at quickly sniffing him out. What a predicable friend you have, you muse. The two of you sit down, a pregnant silence overtaking the both of you.

“Rui? You’ve been-“ you search for the word, “spacey. You feel alright? No one was bothering you or anything, right?” You jab whatever was in your lunchbox today, as if killing the meat for a second time. Your tongue lulled out in concentration, he lets out an amused laugh.

“Aren’t I always spacey?” His head cocks to the side, a lopsided smile appearing. How come all of his worries about you vanish when you two are like this? Isn’t this supposed to make him feel worse?

“Spacier than usual.” You decide, pointing your utensil at him threateningly. “I know you better than you think, don’t play with me.”

Not well enough, he wants to beg. He wants to know you in every way possible, wants you to know him-

“You’re doing it again!” You groan, shoving a bite into your mouth. Your face lights up at the taste, it’s endearing to him - well everything about you is endearing to him. “Ooo! Try this!” You beam, grabbing some between your chopsticks.

He thinks you’re going to place it on this lunchbox, but is shocked when you just stare at him, holding the food an inch or two away from his mouth. He opens his mouth, and you let him take it between his lips.

A thousand thoughts flurry in his head again, and he tries to grasp at them desperately to contain himself. A few rose colored pieces of paper appeared in his hand.

The first, was that that was way too domestic. That’s what you’d do with a lover. That’s what you’d do on a picnic in a meadow, a radio playing classical- God, his emotions are really getting to the better of him. When did he start thinking about things like that?

The second paper he discovered, was the realization that your lips had touched those very chopsticks too. Did you not realize that you had just touched your lips to his - in a way? Did you not care? Maybe it was meant to be familiar, he’d drink off Nene all the time.

The last paper was a simple thought, a thought he would actually be willing to tell you about.

That was really good.

He realized you had been watching him intensely, and he prays that you didn’t see his face contort three times in the 8 seconds he had been chewing. You looked at him as if you were expecting a response, and the paper butterflies stop shooting all over the place.

“Good, right?” You say, egging him along like a parent who had finally gotten their child to resign and eat vegetables. He’s always been particular, even now his lunch box only really had snacks in it. You’re glad when you see him eating.

He decides to give you a hum of approval, and a nod of his head. He doesn’t trust himself to talk to you. You feel giddy that he enjoyed it, and it shows on your face. He feels giddy too.

“You should eat more. I can start making you lunch that you’ll actually like if that’s what it takes. You’re looking pale.” You tease, shoving him gently. “Is that why you’re so spacey today? Because you’re hangry?”

You’re a good friend, he thinks. You’re such a good friend, and that’s why I love you.

“I’m not hangry!” He pushes you back, laughing heartily. “And you don’t need to bother making me lunches. I’m capable, I just don’t want to.”

“Whatever than, weirdo. Starve.” You shrug, “if you pass out during a show and I have to nurse you back to health, I’ll say I told you so!”

You two finish eating quickly, not really talking that much, and he’s resigned to looking down guiltily during class again. School flashes by quickly. He has rehearsal today, he wants to groan. Maybe it’ll take his mind off things. He has a new idea to pitch to Tsukasa anyway.

Rui soon discovers that rehearsal isn’t going to be all that good today. He steps on Nenes foot twice, he runs into Emu a handful of times, and now he’s in a bad mood because on top of all of his thoughts, Tsukasa turned down his idea for a flame shooting Robo-Nene.

“Rui!!” Nene whispers, breaking him out of his thoughts when she jabs him in the side. “Cmon, you gotta pay attention or ‘Kasa’ll get moody.”

She cares about him, in her own sisterly way. It’s funny. He’s sure she can even guess what he’s thinking about.

“Sorry, Nene..” He says softly, rubbing his face in frustration. Why does he have to be such a freak? He wishes he were more like Tsukasa. Tsukasa probably doesn’t have paper butterflies in his head.

What a dumb thought that was, paper butterflies. He wishes he didn’t have stupid thoughts like that. Normal people don’t think of feelings that way, he knew you definitely didn’t think that way, what a weird person he was.

Rehearsal passes after time, he leaves quickly, too quick for him to even offer walking back with Nene. She’s going to Emu’s probably, he thinks so at least. He checks his phone, a notification from none other than ‘Weirdo’ - your doing, not his - Popping into view. You had insisted he’d change your contact when you had seen it was simply your name. It always got a chuckle out of him, despite the irony of you calling yourself the weird one.

Weirdo: wanna come over after your dance dance time?? i need help with math, mr smarty!

Me: Sure, I guess I can spare some brain power. Let me whip up a little Rui Math magic

Did that sound weird? Whatever. He sends it, changing his route to end up on your street instead. The walk is filled with the usual misery of a smitten teenage boy, apprehensive feelings washing over him. He prepares what he should talk about, repeating things that he’s sure wouldn’t be weird to say. He wishes he could make feelings disappear, he wishes he could disappear really. What a different world it would be if he weren’t in it, what a better life you’d have if he weren’t in it. He shakes his head, trying to block that away. He’s so dramatic, it makes his skin crawl in disgust.

He knocks on your door, but quickly gets another text.

Weirdo: just come in.. i left it unlocked!

You should really be more careful, he frets, opening the door and pulling off his shoes. He thinks you’re too trusting of people, even of people like him. If you knew his disgusting thoughts of love towards you, you’d certainly be frightened. Like when a miserable diseased stray wants you to pet it. Actually, you’re too kind to be deflected from petting a flea-ridden animal. That’s just the kind of person you are, maybe that’s why you two are so close.

He pushes the door of your room open, being met with the dejected stare you’re giving your math homework.

“Rui,” you look up at him, “I think I may be stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” He chides, sitting down on the bed next to you.

“Whatever, I give up!” You toss it onto your desk.

“I just got here, I haven’t even tried to help you yet!” He says amused, trying to go grab it. you stop him, pulling him back next to you. His breath gets caught in his throat. You’re close to him, way too close to him.

“Honestly, I used that as an excuse for you to hang out with me. I was desperate, okay?!”

Those words shock him. You thought you’d have to trick him into hanging out with you? Did you not know how devoted he was to seeing you? Just the thought of you wanting to see him mad him giddy. If only you knew how quick he’d go if you’d asked him to be there.

He tries not to think about how close you two are. It’s not weird, Rui, they’re your friend. Friends lay together, don’t they? He’s played video games together with Nene in her bed, this is normal. He’s looking too much into this. What a weirdo he was for thinking like this, he’s a total slime ball.

“Y’know, Rui.” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, your touch lingering as you nudge him. “If you want to talk to me about something, you can.”

He feels like he’s been shoved under water, the current throwing his body around. Everything is too stressful, and now even your presence can’t make the weird thoughts go away. He suddenly becomes hyper aware of how close you are to him. He’s guiltily dreamed about being this close to you, feeling your warmth, touching him gently like you always did.

Those dreams weren’t for the likes of him, he can’t hope for things like that, he tries to remind himself every chance he gets.

So why does this feel so real? Why can he smell your perfume, and see your worried face, and feel you touching him so tenderly. You can’t keep getting his hopes up like this. He wishes he could be a good friend for you.

He wishes he didn’t love you in such a depraved, disgusting way. He wishes he wasn’t such an odd person. He wishes he didn’t think the way he did. He wants to be normal.

“Rui?” You say worried, grabbing his cheek. Stop it, he wants to beg. He can’t feel you in this way and act like it’s normal. He can’t be this close to you and be casual about it.

His face contorts into something awful, a helpless expression coming forth. His mouth opens to beg you to understand that he is okay. He truly is okay.

“I love you, so much.” The words are like a ghost, shooting out of him. His breath gets caught in his throat, and so does yours.

What?? How could he do that?? All he can feel is despair curling up inside of him. His worst fear is going to come true, you’re disgusted. This is the most humiliating thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. He’s failed the one rule he set between the two of you, you’re going to leave his life forever. You’re gone now. This is worst than any torment he’s ever faced in school.

He needs to try and defend himself.

“I-“ His words are hasty, and he reaches to tear your hands off of his face to grab them earnestly. “I- I don’t know why I said that-“

He finds himself unable to continue talking, what can’t he talk?

Your mouth is on his.

His face relaxes, his brows unfurrowing as he hums miserably into it. He grabs you desperately, relishing in how wonderful your lips feel. He really shouldn’t be doing this. He really shouldn’t-

He deepens the kiss, trying to bask in you for just a second longer. His thoughts are all gone now. It’s just you, you, you.

It’s hasty, and needy, and salty. Your noses bump together carelessly, your teeth scrape each other. It’s both your first time kissing anybody, after all.

You two part shortly after. He’s panting, and so are you.

His breath gets caught once again once he sees the depraved line of spit connecting you two. You wipe his cheek, when did he start crying? How embarrassing.

“Rui Kamishiro, you’re strange.” You smile shakily, voice sickly-sweet with fondness. “is that what’s been on your mind this whole time?

He nods, apprehensive to admit anything.

“I love you too, if that’s what you’re so concerned about.”

You say it like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he doesn’t love you like a stay dog loves the person who gives him scraps. He feels like everything is lifted off of him, like his head is finally above water.

He can’t help but let out a pathetic gasp. It makes his skin crawl. “I-“

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” You bring him towards yourself, holding him so gently he thinks he’ll faint.

He decides that he’s willing to be guilty if it means he gets to be like this with you.

What a selfish, hormonal, smitten, weird, depraved boy he is.

Strawberry chapstick, huh?

[justporo]

Hi! Could I please get some headcanons or a drabble of Astarion x anemic!Tav and how things may differ when it comes to him feeding on them, how he'd take care of them if they needed it, etc? Would love to see what you come up with. Thank you for your time! 💜

Hello and thank you very much, Anon! Since I'm actually hit with the Bloodless debuff today myself... What else could I have written?

This is a very sweet idea to write something - which I took and then made it sarcastic... I hope you like it.

Also - idk why, but for this I pictured Tav as velnna's Staeve - you probably know who I'm talking about and if you don't you should very quickly go over there and find out, because I love Steven and you should really give this incredible incredible artist who has contributed so much to this fandom a lot of love. All the love. (I didn't wanna tag them because I didn't know if it was okay and didn't want to annoy them but go check out their blog!!)

Pairing: Astarion / Tav (You) Wordcount: 1,6k

Bloodless

The sun was burning in the sky. You felt sweat almost drip from your skin. Every step seemed to be harder than the last one. Your heart was fluttering although your pulse seemed flat. Damn this Mountain Pass.

You and the rest of the party had been hiking through the mountains for days. It was exhausting for everyone, but especially for you it seemed. Surely, the fact that you had offered Astarion your blood almost every other night (and that he was always very keen and graciously grateful to take it) had quite obviously to do with how much your stamina had dwindled.

But you knew offering up your blood was very much helpful. Not only to the vampire, but the party as a whole: Astarion had basically become a menace on the battlefield since he’d been able to feed properly. Also, you were stubborn – a bit of missing blood wouldn’t knock you out. Or would it?

You tripped on a loose stone and almost face-planted on the ground. Only in the last moment were you able to catch yourself and dampen the fall with your arms. You quickly got up again and hoped no one had noticed since you’d dropped to being the last in the group today.

But trying to raise yourself so quickly had been a mistake and you suddenly felt overly woozy, your vision blurring and you were immediately back on one knee.

And of course, it hadn’t gone unnoticed: Astarion had been in front of you and had seemingly been alarmed by the noise of your fall – twice.

“What is it, Tav, got too distracted looking at my back, hm?”, he taunted and came over to where you were doubled over – leaning on your arms too now because you felt so dizzy all of a sudden that you felt you had need of all of your four limbs on the ground to support you.

When the vampire realised you weren’t getting up and also didn’t respond to his quip in your usual witty manner, he quickly gave the others a shout to let them know not to go too far ahead. Then he came over to you. You were desperately trying to not pass out when you saw the hands of the pale elf through your blurred vision reaching for you.

“You do hear me, yes?”, Astarion whispered to you. You could only nod curtly. His hands hesitantly touched your shoulders.

“Alright, can you get up? There’s a big stone over there where you could sit down.” You shook your head which made you even dizzier.

“Oh hm”, Astarion seemed a little helpless on how to proceed with you. You felt him turn away.

“Don’t tell the others!”, you exclaimed breathlessly. The vampire whipped around: “But… why?” “Just don’t please”, you whispered and carefully looked up at his face. Was that… actual worry?

“Please just… Help me sit on this rock, let me have some water… and rest and we’ll keep going in a few minutes”, you pleaded with him. Astarion didn’t look completely convinced but sighed in defeat after a few of your racing heartbeats.

“Alright – could you please not die for a moment while I go and talk to the others?”, he said in a sassy tone that couldn’t completely gloss over the worry in his voice.

You let your head fall down again and simply nodded. Astarion went off towards the rest of your companions.

Ever so slowly you felt a little bit better. Cautiously you knelt back onto your feet – at least not on all fours anymore! Shortly after you tried to carefully get up and move over to the rock Astarion had mentioned.

That was when the vampire returned. “Oh no no, you stay right where you are, you poor helpless creature that would have perished already had it not been for me.” He ran the last few feet over and grabbed one of your arms to slowly put it around his neck and help you get up and walk over to sit on the boulder. You wanted to say something witty at his taunt, but your mind was too blank.

“Also, we are actually taking a break – all of us, so don’t even try to keep on walking”, he scolded you as he placed you down.

“What did you tell the others?”, you asked simply as you placed your forearms on your thighs and just sat leaning forward like that for a little. “Tss, does it matter now? Something like I broke a nail of mine and needed a moment to mourn it or whatever”, Astarion replied annoyedly.

“Can’t believe they actually stopped for that”, you said slowly and chuckled with your head between your knees and threw up a look at your vampiric companion. “Yeah well, seems they care a lot about my wellbeing. And I take it they would about yours, too”, he gave back – again very sassily. You just chuckled but didn’t reply. You saw that he relaxed a little.

“Ah here. You should probably drink and eat a little”, the vampire said after a while of the two of you just sitting there. He offered you a water bottle and some berries from a pouch – both of which weren’t his for obvious reasons.

You narrowed your eyes at him: “Where did you get those?” “By the Gods, you are so reluctant to help, I should’ve left you in the dirt.” Astarion rolled his eyes at you. “The druid gave it to me – you’re not as inconspicuous as you might believe, oh mighty leader of our adventure troupe.” You had a desire to punch this cheeky elf but you knew you were in no condition to act on something like this, so you sighed and first took the water and then started to munch on some berries from the offered pouch.

Silence spread once more between the two of you. Before Astarion broke it again: “Listen, Tav, darling, I know this must be because you’re letting me drink your blood so often.” You immediately wanted to start protesting but the vampire hushed you, brows furrowed.

“No, for once, you’ll let me do the talking. Don’t think I’m blind – your form has been declining for quite some time now. We can’t go on like this. I mean, Halsin has also noticed already.” You stayed silent and kept popping berries in your mouth and silently thanked the druid for his kind gesture – even if you didn’t want the others to know of this weakness. You slowly started to feel better.

“As much as I enjoy our little late night… sessions. We should probably take a break – at least concerning these particular ones. And maybe later, keep longer breaks in between if you insist to keep throwing yourself at me to drink your blood”, Astarion continued and sighed theatrically.

He tried so hard to be sarcastic about the whole thing, but you noticed that he was actually worried, judging by the guilty glint in his red eyes. And maybe it was that the blood loss was affecting your brain too much but you stared at him and just dryly said: “You know, you could just admit that you care about me, Astarion.”

The vampire huffed in surprise, then he sneered with a click of his tongue: “Bah, of course I do, you seem to be the only one to get this group of clowns to work together after all. It’s not like I care for you much as a person. As a blood bag maybe, but other than that…”

You pursed your lips and let him ramble, digging his own verbal grave by trying to talk himself out of it.

You didn’t even reply afterwards, just let him steep in the own awkwardness he created.

You kept looking at him – even offered him a berry, he scrunched his nose at – then shrugged and ate it yourself.

You slowly opened your water bottle…

“Okay, maybe a little. Tiny bit. Because you’re the only one in the group who seems to have a real sense of humour – at least when you’re not lying in the dirt being a dried out husk”, Astarion exclaimed.

You grinned at him wolfishly and shook the last of the berries from the small bag into your mouth ignoring his insult. “Now, wasn’t even that hard, was it? I really like you to, Astarion”, you said and then slowly stood up – careful not to immediately make a fool of yourself again.

“I liked you better when you were staring at the dirt up close”, the vampire replied and jumped up while crossing his arms over his chest, then sauntered away.

“Sure, if that’s what you need to tell yourself”, you kept teasing and slowly went after the brooding vampire.

You met up with the rest of the camp then went on your way for the rest of the day. The others were already so used to the two of you missing from the camp at the same time (mostly during nighttime, of course) that they didn’t even look up when the two of you came back.

Later when you all had settled down for the night you saw that Astarion went over to Halsin and talked to him softly. They both threw you looks in between which made you uncomfortable because you certainly could imagine what the topic was. Before Astarion had also made sure you’d gotten the first serving of tonight’s dinner (and also seconds).

Even later when the others were already at rest the vampire confessed, he’d been asking the druid about how he could go about drinking your blood without putting too much of a strain on you. Again, you noticed that he seemed not only concerned about his blood rations when he explained that to you.

The next days you also noticed that Astarion had started carrying some water and the bag from Halsin containing the berries.

And you thought to yourself that – for a blood bag – Astarion seemed to put an awful lot of thought and action into making sure you were okay.

[katnissegf]

Dating Katniss & Peeta headcanons

pairing: poly!everlark x fem!reader (katniss everdeen x reader x peeta mellark)

warnings: polyamorous relationship, use of pet names, a lot of fluff, suggestive themes, TW: GALE (🤢), english is not my first language so there might be spelling mistakes.

notes: this is my first time writing in YEARS. but i’m so into the hunger games fandom right now so here’s this. hope you enjoy <3

after the games, neither of them returned to being the same.

when they returned home, they became so much more overprotective than they were in the past with you.

want to visit your family? peeta will be there with you. need to go somewhere? katniss will go with you.

to be honest you can’t blame them, you know they are like this now because of how scared they are of losing you. and you adore them for that.

but also, overprotective in the jealousy way.

peeta has never been a jealous boyfriend. if he sees you or katniss flirting with someone else, his heart would shatter into pieces, feeling not enough for either of you, but he would never say a word about it.

meanwhile, katniss.. well, she’s not afraid to make it clear what belongs to her.

there was this time when gale came up to talk to you on the reaping day, he said he was 'concerned about you.'

your girlfriend noticed his intentions to flirt with you and quickly got closer to steal your attention, placing a hand on your waist and giving gale a death stare.

he never tried to flirt with you in her presence again.

peeta is literally obsessed with both, you and katniss. he would die for the two of you.

in the other hand, katniss would kill for the two of you. you guys are her whole universe.

in the afternoon, you usually have baking lessons with peeta as your teacher.

if you end up burning something, he says, “don’t worry darling, next time will turn out better.”

sometimes, when you join her on the hunt, katniss tries to teach you how to use the bow and arrow as well.

“i don’t know, i think i prefer watching you do it than doing it myself.”

“c’mon baby, it’s going to be fun. for me?”

of course, you agree just to see her happy.

since they returned home, it’s normal for both of them to have nightmares every night.

to katniss, it helps when you run your fingers through her hair while she rests her head on your chest. peeta always takes her hand to let her know he’s there, even when he’s scared too.

when peeta is the one that wakes up from a terrible dream, he immediately becomes the little spoon and lets both of his girlfriends hug him. this helps him calm down and quickly go back to sleep.

every morning, you braid katniss’s hair while peeta braids yours. <3

you and peeta take care of the garden, and always suprise katniss with flowers.

okay but.. heavy make out sessions.

peeta holds you tight onto his lap and kisses your neck while katniss kisses your mouth like her life depends on it.

they’re always so sweet with you and your body, because it’s probably their favorite thing on the world.

both of them always ask for consent before touching or even kissing you, they respect you so much.

[zaineviu]

❛𝘊𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦, 𝘊𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦, 𝘊𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦❜ - L.F (SKZ)

Synopsis. It's funny how a cup of coffee turns into cupid.

pairings. felix x reader.

content. sfw!, fem!reader, reader is a little clumsy, felix is too cute.

wc. 1,229

a/n. Very soft for our soft hearts.

You didn't think you were involved in a problem.

Not today.

No tomorrow.

No today in the morning.

You were always involved in some problem, whether at work, at home, with your friends, family, even in everyday places like a coffee shop.

The hazel eyes of the man who looked at you as if you owed him something made you feel uncomfortable and pressured to act on something that was really your fault.

You didn't know how to fix the situation you found yourself in due to your involuntary carelessness of dropping your coffee so close to him that the poor man, to prevent it from falling to the floor, got in the way, burning one of his hands with the boiling coffee.

But once again, you really didn’t think you were in any trouble.

But you were kind, too kind for the taste of your loved ones, so you didn’t hesitate to offer him help right away.

Although technically it was your fault.

Bad way to want to help.

“Oh! I’m sorry, damn, things like this always happen to me. I’m so sorry!”

You approached without asking permission, taking a large portion of the nearby napkin holder to dry the man's hand, who only looked at you expectantly.

Making a fool of yourself only took you three seconds before the boy let out a laugh so loud that you shuddered because of how noisy it was.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” he confessed, taking your hand with his other hand to stop your movements.

“No, it’s not okay, did you get burned?” you asked quickly, looking at him with moist eyes without being able to avoid it, you didn’t expect your morning to move forward in this humiliating way.

You had decided to leave your house early to go get a coffee before leaving for work, since your boss had practically threatened you with overtime the day before, this being your excuse to squeeze coffee all day.

You didn't think you would bump into this man who just smiled at you while holding your hand, you couldn't notice how cute he was..

Too many freckles.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Don’t worry, it’s just coffee.”

You couldn't accept it, that thing was hot.

You couldn't even take a sip because it was so hot.

"Could you please have my number if any burns arise? I can cover any injuries with my insurance," you pleaded once again, not letting go despite the mocking look.

Felix let out a soft laugh, that kind of laugh that seemed to fill the air with warmth, as if the coffee incident had no importance at all. “Are you sure you’re not exaggerating a little?” he asked in a serene voice, tilting his head slightly to look at you better. His eyes, dark and bright, reflected a hint of fun while his lips still held a smile.

It looked like a sun if you looked at it from afar.

“I’m not,” you insisted, without being intimidated by the charm that this stranger who smiled at you gave off, as if that was the only thing he knew how to do. “If I let you go like this and you end up with a red hand like a tomato, I won’t forgive myself.” You crossed your arms in an attempt to show firmness, although your heart, racing for no apparent reason, did you no favour.

It was a strange way of hiding your nervousness.

Would it seem ridiculous to confess that you were already in love?

Probably yes.

Felix looked at you for one more second, he seemed to evaluate your stubbornness, before letting out a sigh. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I give up,” he said with that carefree smile, taking his phone out of his pocket. “If that makes you calm, give me your number. But I promise that if my hand explodes in flames, I will write to you first.”

You couldn’t help but let out a short laugh, surprised by how lightly he said it. “You shouldn’t joke about that,” you replied as he held his phone out to you. The device felt warm in your hand, and the screen reflected your nervous face more than you were willing to admit.

You wrote your number carefully, trying not to make mistakes, although the pressure of his curious eyes on you did not make it easier. When you returned his phone, you couldn’t help the little smile that escaped your lips. “If I write to you, it’s just to make sure your hand is okay,” you said, trying to hide how silly you felt.

It didn’t seem serious, his hand was red but he didn’t think there was anything further, otherwise he would be crying.

Felix put his cell phone in his pocket with a quick gesture, looking sideways at his hand as if he were examining it again. “Well, it seems that I’m whole... for now,” he commented, stretching his fingers as if he wanted to convince you that everything was fine.

The silence that followed was comfortable, surprisingly pleasant after the chaos of the last minutes. It was he who broke it, leaning a little towards you. “By the way, I’m Felix,” he said suddenly, his voice soft and genuine. “I think we’ve already skipped the formalities between so much flying coffee.”

“It’s true,” you replied, suddenly feeling aware of how ridiculous everything had been. “I’m Y/N.”

Felix approached with a smile that seemed to illuminate everything around him. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Even if it was with a cup of coffee like cupid.” His joke made you laugh, a more genuine laugh than you had released in weeks.

Add yourself with a touch of confidence. “Next time I’ll invite... and I’ll try not to spill anything.”

Felix raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. "Next time? Are you already planning another meeting? Well, I guess you should be more careful if I see you again, or I'll end up with a ruined shirt this time."

“It wasn’t on purpose!” You exclaimed, frowning still worried about the previous event, but Felix only laughed louder.

"I know, I know," he finally said, with a gentle gesture that made you blush softly. "Though, to be honest, it wasn't that bad. Thanks to this disaster, I met someone interesting."

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but you manage to hide it with a smile.

You looked over your shoulder at the wall clock, mentally cursing the time.

Your boss was going to kill you if you didn’t arrive in twenty minutes.

“I should go, my boss will get very angry with me if I don’t arrive on time, and I already have many delays behind me,” you blurted out, as if only at that moment you remembered the reality.

You ignored the fact that you didn’t have your cup of coffee in your hand.

You’d have to come back later for a new one.

Felix looked at you with a funny expression, as if he was amused by your urgency. “I don’t want to be the cause of your dismissal, so run before it’s too late,” he joked, but his eyes were still fixed on yours.

They were too beautiful to ignore.

“See you, Y/N,” he said with a farewell gesture that, for some reason, you felt would not be the last.

You nodded quickly, trying to recompose your posture.

“See you later, Felix.”

He gave you one last look, as warm as his whole being, and began to move away slowly just like you.

Without wasting any more time, you turned around and began to walk hastily towards the exit, feeling your heartbeat even stronger than they should be.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

Even though you didn't have coffee, you got something more unexpected: a conversation, a smile... and a name that, unintentionally, was already starting to repeat itself in your mind.

Felix.

[ramblinscramblin]

Hi :)

I saw your ask box was open.

Can I suggest the merc falling asleep on their crushes shoulder during movie night? And when they wake up, they are alone with their crush who strikes their hair or cheek or something like that?

→Falling asleep on their crushes shoulder!

Genre: fluff, GN reader

Characters: Sniper, Engineer, Solider

This asker specified in a separate ask that it would be okay if I only did these three, unfortunately I think for now I’ll stick to just these three because I actually ended up getting a bunch of asks and didn’t want to overwhelm myself too quickly. Very grateful for all the submissions btw! Anyhow enjoy!

Sniper

He would have to be seriously sleep deprived to let this happen.

Sniper his hyper aware of his surroundings at all times, him “accidentally” brushing against something or someone is rarely ever just that.

He’d be hyper aware whenever sitting next to you, always ensuring there was enough space as to not accidentally touch. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or seem unprofessional, he already felt bad enough for having feelings for you.

To avoid leaning on you he just hung his head forward, falling asleep in the most uncomfortable position you have ever seen. But long nights of tossing and turning in his van had finally caught up and he was out like a light.

(Maybe it happens on accident, or maybe by your intervention he ends up leaning his head against your side. Oh no, what a terrible fate!)

He looks so calm and peaceful, so even long after the movie ended you decide to just keep quiet and let him sleep.

Eventually however he begins to stir, and wake with a soft sigh.

Freezes the second he realizes he’s against your side and under your arm. Like total deer in headlights, goes rigid.

He looks up at you to start spouting apologies and get off you, but instead with your free hand you just tenderly move a strand of hair out of his face with a smile.

His heart is beating out of his chest in an instant, and he quickly looks away to hide his burning face. Will not say anything from that point forward, and you choose to do the same, keeping the quiet ambience intact.

He might turn tail and run off or he might just stay, it honestly depends on the nature of your relationship up until this point. How close he views the two of you already.

If he lets a good thing be and just stays, he won’t talk about it or acknowledge it ever again. And if any of the mercs bring it up (which let’s face it, they will) he will deny it to the ends of the earth.

Thinks about it constantly, like constantly. He won’t be able to face you with a straight face for the next few days.

Engineer

Engie definitely ended up next to you on purpose, his passes at romance are typically pretty low-key, just sitting next to you is enough!

During movie nights he almost always pretends it’s just the two of you, making jokes about the movie while being shushed by the other mercs.

Tonight though it was a calming feel good movie, he couldn’t really think of anything to make you laugh so he ended up just sort of dozing off.

Him resting his head against your shoulder though is a happy accident, he didn’t mean it, but neither of you are mad about it.

I imagine that Engie is a super deep sleeper, once he’s out he’s out. So realistically you know you could probably sneak out from under him without waking him, but you’re not about to do that.

The first thing he goes to do when he wakes up is apologize for drooling.

But before he gets the chance you tenderly take your thumb as graze it over his cheek, smiling softly.

He freezes at first, heart caught in his throat.

But he gets his footing quickly, and starts “sorry for drooling on you darlin’” he said trying to break the ice a little bit.

“It’s okay,” you say taking a deep breath turning your attention back to your book “I don’t mind.”

He stays, getting nice and cozy beside you. It will likely become pretty standard practice between the two of you, he’ll shoo away any of the other mercs who might make fun.

This is the catalyst for him confessing to you for sure.

Solider

Solider is attentive at all times, if he falls asleep on your shoulder it is 100% on purpose.

Restless during movie nights, constantly (and loudly) interrupting the movie to ask questions or point out impossibilities. Doesn’t get suspension of disbelief.

Does enjoy cozying up to you though, the other mercs caught wind that he is calmer and quieter if sat next to you, so it became pretty ritual.

“This movie doesn’t make any sense! I’m going to sleep!” He loudly proclaimed to the group, earning a few annoyed groans and grunts from the other mercs. Promptly resting his head on your shoulder, praying you don’t shoo him away, or become uncomfortable.

Kind of dips in and out of sleep, kind of has trouble getting completely comfortable, and eventually wakes back up to find the two of you alone. Definitely sort of sheepish once it’s just the two of you, may pretend to be asleep.

Instead of insisting he get up you just sort of scratch gently at his scalp, comforting him as you guys enjoy a domestic moment together alone.

Might confess his feelings on the spot, might not really depends on his mood.

Doesn’t get up for a long time, an action that’s probably wholly your idea cause your arm is falling asleep.

Won’t be shy about it, but likely won’t bring it up again afterwards, definitely doesn’t enjoy any of the jokes anyone might make.

Is not opposed in the slightest to doing that again, pretends to be chill about it tho.

Eek! My first ask, I’m so grateful this was fun to write! My favoritism for Sniper really shows ^^’ whoopsssss

[tonyboneysblog]

HII Im the anon that requested the touya fic you can just call me the 🍊 anon if thats fine with you because ill probably be back a lot more 😭 your fics are SOO good can i request another touya fic, basically the same as last time what it was like being childhood friends with him? Ty!! 😁😁

SECRET SPOT: oneshot request!

parings: Touya Todoroki x reader

wordcount: 1.4K

notes: actually took forever because I forgot what kids do in their free time

warnings: none

summary: you find a cool spot you’d like to show Touya, shenanigans ensue.

You feel your lungs by start to burn as your run as quick as you can towards to best friends house.

You knock almost violently on the door when Rei Todoroki opens it.

“Miss L/N? Is everything okay?” She says with a worried tone.

You nod your head quickly before you say breathlessly, “I-i have something super cool to show Touya!”

Rei chuckles nervously at your excitement, “he’s in his room, I remember correctly.”

You mutter a quick thank you before booking it towards Touya’s room, only to find it empty.

Now you weren’t too concerned by the fact Touya wasn’t in his room like he was supposed to be, if he wasn’t holed up in his room then he’d be holed up at Sekoto peak over using his quirk in the name of ‘training’.

You shrug before making your way back to the front door, you weren’t planning on telling Rei that her son was up at the peak, he made you promise not to anyway.

Sekoto peak wasn’t the farthest away from the Todoroki household but by the time you got there at the summit you could feel your legs aching.

Now all that was left was to walk up it…

You could make out flashes of red as you hiked up the trail, few sparks of blue which was curious since Touya’s was red?

No point on dwelling on it.

You yell out his name, scaring him before running up to him excitedly.

“Y/N- you scared the hell out of me-“ he blabbers out.

You try to make your voice serious as you speak, “Touya- you absolutely need to follow me now, we’re going on adventure.”

Touya scoffs softly, “adventure? What are you- twelve?”

You stare at Touya after he choices his words, quietly as the seconds tick by.

He clears his throat, “ahem- sorry uhm, where are you trying to take me?” His voice is steady unlike yours, “can’t tell, it’s a surprise.”

“Then scram, I’m training right now Y/N.” He starts to walk off over to his little training corner with the log before you grab his wrist.

“Please Touya?” You beg with a pout on your face.

Touya try’s to tug his wrist away, “Nope, I don’t know what I’m getting myself into.” You groan before pulling him back, “Touya- don’t be a brat I’m trying to show you something cool!” You continue to plead.

“You trying to fight me now? I’ll win.” He says almost threateningly.

you tug again, “you built like a prepubescent chicken- look Touya please just do this for me?”

You and Touya enter an unspoken eye staring contest, Touya loses by looking away nervously and you could almost feel his skin heating up.

“Fine, take me to your stupid spot.” He says lowly, but it doesn’t have any venom behind it.

You celebrate silently in your head before dragging him down the mountain, then towards the woods near your own home.

Touya’s brows furrow, “are you planning on murdering me or something?” his voice could be described as a fake out between ‘I’m so scared!’ And pure sarcasm.

You shrug, “keep up the attitude and I just might.”

He laughs at that one.

You climb over smaller bushes and duck under branches before entering a thicker part of the woods, you got lost in it one time and your parents had called every emergency number they knew.

Touya still dogs on you for it til this day.

Whilst trekking throughout the woods your legs decided to make home with a near by rose bush that hooked into your skin painfully.

You yelp before trying to ease the small thorns out of your poor calf but Touya decides to help out for once.

“Don’t move.” His voice was stern when he said it but his face was filled with worry practically.

He grabs you calf then the vine and pulls the two apart gently, only to leave a small stinging sensation in the wounded area.

“Be glad it’s not bleeding.” He hops over the vines to join you, you kinda hopped his leg would get stuck too for karma but you’ll get revenge soon.

Revenge for everything you’ve done to get him to this cool spot, made your legs sore, made them injured- what’s next? A broken arm?!

You continue to walk throughout the forest, the ground below you getting wetter with each step. Then you could finally hear the faint noise of water rushing.

You walked out nearer towards it before hitting a drop off but luckily you had already scooped out the terrain. There was and edge that you could scoot by on if you held on good and if you fell you- probably- wouldn’t die!

Before you could get to it Touya grabs your hand, “that isn’t safe, find another way.” his brows furrow.

“This is the only way that I know, hold on and you’ll be fine-“ “Y/N I don’t want you getting hurt.” He cuts you off before you can rationalize with him.

“Touya I’ve done this before, I’m not gonna fall.” You smile while you say this but then Touya made it fade quickly with his next words.

“I’ve seen Bridge to Terabithia, don’t play with me Y/N.” His tone is serious but it almost sounds like he’s messing with you.

You mumble out a small fine then Touya smiles like he won, you don’t like that cockiness.

So you quickly run back and scoot the wall almost expertly, pieces of rock falling down below as you move.

Touya calls for your name but by the time you respond d your already on the other side, “see- I told you I’d be fine!” You smile cheekily.

Touya visibly relaxs before his face goes mean again, “you could’ve fallen.”

“Yet I didn’t?”

“I’ll push you down myself.”

You scoff, “thought you didn’t want me getting hurt?”

Touya groans as you start to skip off towards the rushing water, it’s a nice little spot but it has logs all around it like some parkour obby.

Touya watches as you walk over towards one, it’s over a larger area of water- hell it evens look deep.

“Touya, be careful here since it’s slippery.” you sound sweeter than usual, Touya notes.

Touya cautious steps onto the log with the water calmly drifting beneath him, truly it wasn’t hard to balance on it.

You step behind him following close, then you wind your arms back and push him into the water with all your strength. He hits the water with a loud splash, it only takes him a few seconds to resurface.

“Y/N- are you fucking crazy!?” He yells out, you could barely hear him from your own cackling.

You don’t even notice when he grabs your own ankle to drag you down with him.

You yelp before hitting the water, whilst falling you accidentally hit your back against the log.

When you plop back up from the water, coughing violently. You can hear Touya laughing at you, you splash water at him before he could continue.

“Psh- don’t be angry that I got you back!” He yells, his voice sounds light.

Like he’s having fun.

You and Touya continue to have a splashing fight before you raise your hands up, “okay- we’re still not there yet-“ he splashes you again.

“Touya!” He stops for a moment, listening to you.

“It’s a little up ahead, follow me.” You trek through the water, making your way past floating branches or jagged rocks.

Touya could faintly hear water falling, then he felt the water become much more shallow.

The two of you continued to walk throughout the shallow water before it starts to rush before your feet, once Touya look up the first thing he sees is a miniature waterfall.

You turn back to look at him, “isn’t it amazing Touya?” Your smile is bright.

He can’t help it when his faces starts to match yours, you just have that affect on him.

He watches you run up to the falls, collecting rocks or whatever you do.

He can’t help but think how glad he was that he stopped training, even for a moment.

He felt good, his heart felt warm.

you just have that affect on him.

EXTRA:

“Touya- why in the world are you soaking wet?!” Rei practically screams.

Touya stumbles over his words for a moment before speaking, “uhm- next question?”

“Were you out training again?!” Rei says her voice going softer.

“Uhm….next question?” Touya says whilst looking down.

He’s never going on adventure with you again.

[noonwardmoss]

A short piece regarding this post of mine. If you can't find 'em, make 'em.

Apologies for any errors. I wrote this very quickly in my Notes app because I hate myself apparently

CW: Anal, VERY slight daddy/petplay kink on Butcher's part (he calls himself Daddy and you pet/dove)

SMUT BELOW CUT

You're dribbling into the sheets, pussy clenching around nothing and drooling desperately. Butcher's got his big hands on your ass cheeks, holding them spread and forcing you to take it. Most of his weight is on you in this position, and you're some fuzzy place past cockdumb with the air forced out of your lungs with each thrust, but it feels too good to make him stop.

"Good fuckin' girl," he grumbles when you arch your back further. You can feel his eyes burning where he slams into you, watching your hole accept him greedily again and again. "Told ya you'd like it—choking my cock like yer trying to keep a piece'a me for later."

His words make you whine, as they often do, and a chuckle reaches your ears. You were hesitant before, but God was he right. From him fingering your ass to actually fucking it, you've been drenched the whole time. It's just something about him that makes you enjoy nearly anything.

"Thinkin' I can keep a load or two in here, sweetheart," Butcher muses, hips slamming into yours with bruising force. He has your face pressed into the sheets, tears soaking the material. "What'dya say? Think she can take bein' stuffed?"

Despite not being fully aware, you nod desperately. As long as he speaks to you like that, there's little you won't do for him and he knows it. It's seldom you deny him in the first place. You can practically hear his shit-eating grin when he says, "That's what I like to hear, dove."

His grip shifts more toward your thighs, pushing them together as his angle changes so he can get deeper with more force. Pitiful whines rip from your throat as he does, nails gripping the bed for any sort of steadiness. You know you probably won't walk right after this—Butcher's already nearly too thick for your cunt—and some part of you delights in that fact.

"Ah– fuck, Butcher–" you manage through moans. He swats at your leg with a groan as you flutter around him.

"That's it, darl'," he soothes, slightly mocking. His hand hooks around your pelvis, fingers dipping into your slit just to feel your ache for him. "Tsk. This needy hole need some love too, pet? Should'a just told me. More than happy to help with 'at."

A scream nearly tears from you as two of his digits slide into you, their girth welcomed by your slickness. His huffed amusement sounds right by your ear.

"I'm the only one who can do this for you, ey? Only bastard bigger enough than you to fill you all up just right," he grunts. When you clench, he curses. "Fuck, making me wanna switch over here, doll. That slutty cunt of yours is gripping me fingers tight."

He knows he's got you when your eyes roll back.

"Oh, close, is she? Well go on, give me a show. Let Daddy feel you come while he fucks yer ass."

You tip over the edge, voice all scratchy from the moaning he makes you do. He's the only man who ever gets you this noisy in bed. That cockiness of his is for a damn good reason. He groans and follows shortly after, spilling into you with the stuttering of his hips.

When he pulls out, you can feel yourself gaping and dripping his sperm. He pushes it back in with his fingers and presses his dick in again.

"Said I was gonna fuck two or so loads in, didn't I?" He smirks, and you whimper into the sheets.

[generalsmemories]

How to take care of your lover (short life species) when they're sick

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: helloooo!! may i request a scenario in which jing yuan’s significant other (a short life species that isn’t a xianzhou native) has gotten sick? (jing yuan is not adept at taking care of the sick as he is a long-life species). how worried would he be? would he be ridden with thoughts of potential death?

i love ur writing btw!! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of character death (relax, it's not as bad as it seems), spoilers for jing yuan's, blade's and dan heng's past (sorta), maybe ooc at times

✧ a/n: for humorous purposes jing yuan will have no idea what a fever is. let's say that the illnesses that xianzhou natives have to suffer are most of the time a life or death situation so the concept of a fever is practically nonexsistent for them.

"I must say general, I didn't think of you as the type to be able to take care of a short-lived species whose fallen ill at such a short notice," Welt says, eyes wandering towards March 7th whose currently sleeping peacefully on a bed inside Bailu's clinic, the trailblazer close by to watch over. And although their gaze is not on the pair behind them, Jing Yuan can tell that they too are curious. "Oh, but I don't mean this with ill intent, I'm just surprised is all," he adds on quickly, the general merely laughing at the quick explanation.

"No worries, Mr. Yang. It's an understandable surprise. Us long-life species have other health conditions to worry about that other species doesn't need to mull over and vice versa. I just happened to have a bit of experience from before, and seeing that Ms. Bailu wasn't here to personally attend to you all and I had time to spare, it was the least I could do," Jing Yuan explains, making Welt hum in question, "Pardon if this sounds rude, but might I ask where that experience comes from?"

The general laughs, shaking his head as a silent gesture to tell Welt that he doesn't mind, "Not at all, you're esteemed guests after all, telling you a bit won't harm anyone - it's not exactly a secret either," Jing Yuan starts, "I used to have a lover when I was younger that had a shorter lifespan than I is all."

There's a moment of silence, the people before him probably not expecting him to reveal something that vulnerable as easy as he did: "They often got sick because of their curious nature that didn't work well with their frail body, I was often worried sick myself," Jing Yuan reveals with a soft chuckle, and if one had a keener eye they could tell his eyes softening significantly too when reminiscing the events.

"... How long ago?" the trailblazer suddenly asks. The question catches Welt off guard, but before he could try to dismiss it Jing Yuan let's out a low noise of contemplation, "A couple of years ago. I think just before I got appointed as a general," he answers in the end.

Oh, so it was at least a couple of decades ago.

"Yingxing, I think [Name] is dying!" the craftsman almost slams the hammer down on his finger instead of the metal he's welding when the door gets kicked open, letting out a silent curse before directing his gaze towards the door with a quirked eyebrow.

"Kid, I can guarantee you that they don't wake up one day and decide that today is the perfect time to die," Yingxing points out, untying his apron as Jing Yuan begins to explain. "No you don't understand, today I went to their room to wake them up again, but they didn't answer! But I noticed that the door was not locked-"

"You went into their room without asking?"

"Yes? Anyway, they were still in bed, but they didn't even acknowledge me when I called out to them! But when I got closer, I noticed that their face was unusually red and that their whole body was warmer than usual. They were also heavily breathing, but even when they burning up they didn't let me cool them down-"

"Okay, okay. Stop, I already understand," Yingxing tries to placate the young solider, trying to move behind him to get your motionless form into his own arms, but Jing Yuan merely turns around. The action making you groan uncomfortably by the fast motion, "What are you planning on doing? Are they dying?!"

"No. They're either just running a high fever or been in contact with something unknown onboard the Luofu that their immune system haven't encountered yet, move them more than that and they're gonna puke all over the floor which I honestly do not want, so give them to me before you make them worse!" Yingxing barks out, rubbing his temples to get rid of the rising headache, "Do you long life species not suffer from a fever every now and then?"

"... Why would we?"

"Why did I even bother to ask, can you bring Dan Feng here to just look and see if it's not any serious illness? And then I can teach you how to take care of a short life species - seeing as this is your reaction," Yingxing says with a laugh, motioning at Jing Yuan's frantic state before cradling your body into his own arms.

Nonetheless, the Vidyadhara high elder was very rudely interrupted from his duties to get (willingly) dragged away by a distressed Jing Yuan.

"Jing Yuan it was just a sneeze, no need to bundle me up this much," you croak out under the amount of covers stacked upon you, a clearly worried Jing Yuan by your bedside with even more covers. "If anything you're going to crush me with how heavy these are, I don't exactly have the strength to get them off at the moment either-"

"Have you gotten weaker? Do I need to get Dan Feng again to check?"

"No- he was just here 10 minutes ago to give me some medicine again, don't go- I'm serious, Jing Yuan come back this fever is no different from the other ones, I promise!" you plead, somehow managing to grab onto the ends of his cape to make him stop, "I admit it's my fault that I stayed outside in the rain too long when it started to become windy too." you reassure him, tugging a tiny bit on the cape to make him settle on the edge of the bed, to which Jing Yuan obediently does.

"You worry too much," you mumble, tugging Jing Yuan further into the bed so he can lean against the headboard while you slowly manuever around to settle between his legs before burying your face into his stomach.

"Aren't I too warm wearing my usual clothing? Do you want me to grab something first, maybe eat something? You've barely eaten anything, Yingxing said you should at least try to stomach something when you get sick, how about I try to make the congee again before you-"

"No, just stay like this. Last time you tried to make congee you almost cut off your fingers and burned down the kitchen" you mumble, turning your head to grin up at Jing Yuan who only gives you a defeated smile, "You should really worry less. You've seen me sick a few times now and I just need a few days of rest, so just take it easy here with me," you whisper. Jing Yuan could tell that you were getting sleepy from fatigue with the way your eyelids were dropping, but even while fighting off sleep you manage to remind him of one last thing, "... If you're going to try to cook after I fall asleep, at least call Yingxing..."

"... And you call me a worrywart."

[mochimoqa]

Hiii I just recently hurt myself accidentally while cooking 😭 so can I request how would you write any of the Moon Boys comforting the reader who feels insecure of scars or marks on their body. Would appreciate it a lot 💗

Hello, anon!

I'm so sorry that you hurt yourself :(

But nothing like a good moon boys x reader will fix that :]

WARNING: Some cursing and Intense Fluff 🤭

...

"OW- Fucking shit-" Y/n screamed at the pain of extreme heat touching their skin. You turned off the stove and went to the restroom to grab your mini med kit.

"Son of a b—" You mumbled to yourself.

You've gotten hurt plenty of times. Either from cooking, activities, etc. You've gotten insecure over the years because of the scars and marks from different activities.

The one time where you were frying chicken and the hot oil splutter on your skin. Leaving some marks on you.

You turned on the cold water from your sink and let the burn somewhat fix the burn.

You sat on the floor and opened the med kit. The irritation of your skin was a bit bad. You grabbed some aloe gel and gently placed it on your burn.

"Ow-" You winced at the pain.

While you were doing this treatment, you heard a knock at the door.

Keys jangling and swung open the door.

"Love, I'm home!"

Oh, goodie! Steven's here.

"Ah, shit-" You panicked and quickly hid the medical supplies.

"Love? Y/n! Where are you?" He was pacing around the house til he found you in the bathroom.

You were covering your hand behind your back.

"Ah, there you are! Marc, Jake and I started to become a little worried there." He hugged you tightly and kissed your forehead.

"No, no, I'm always here, baby." You chuckled nervously.

Steven cupped your face and looked into your eyes. God, his cute dark eyes always get to you.

"I feel like you're hiding something..."

Your eyes widened slightly and chuckled nervously.

"What? No-"

He squeezes your face a bit tight.

You instantly knew that this wasn't Steven anymore and it was Marc. Steven was the more gentle of the boys.

"Y/n, I know you're lying to me."

"I- no, I'm not-"

"Yes, you are."

Shit, you've been caught red-handed. (No pun intended.)

"Okay, fine. You got me." You put your burned hand in front of him.

"I burned myself while cooking..."

God, this was so embarrassing to you. You've had too many scars and marks on yourself, you thought for sure they were gonna leave you.

"The burn doesn't look too bad." He grabbed your hand and examined the injury.

"Huh? You- You're not gonna leave me?"

His eyes shot up to you.

"Why would I ever wanna do that?"

"I- because of all of the scars and marks I have on my body... you don't think it's embarrassing?"

"No?"

Marc paused for a moment and seeming zoned out. He was probably talking to Steven and Jake.

"Steven said that he would never leave you."

He looked at your wound and paused again.

"Jake said that he would be stupid to even do that."

You chuckled lightly at their responses.

"Really?" You sighed and leaned against the sink.

"Mhm, and I agree with the both of 'em. You're literally too good to be true, Y/n. Sometimes me and the boys don't even know of how lucky we are to have you."

"But what about my scars?–"

"The scars don't matter. We love you with or without any scars or marks."

He paused again.

"Jake wants to take control to get rid of that stupid stuff you said about yourself."

You sighed, "Alright, bring him out..."

You felt your hand being squeezed.

"Hola, mi amor." (Hey, my love.) He kissed your hand.

You smiled lightly. "Hey, baby."

"So, what in the wrong fucking mindset are you even in?"

"Uh, I don’t know... I just thought that the three of you were gonna leave me and—"

"Esa es la cosa más estúpida que he oído jamás". (That is the most stupidest thing I have ever heard.)

"I know..."

"Cariño, we will love you til the end."

"Thank you, baby... thank you to the three of you..."

"No hay problema, bebé. (No problem, baby.)

"Want me to fix you up?"

You nodded. "That would be wonderful..."

Hello! I hope you enjoyed this! I absolutely love writing Fluff so this was by far the most exciting story to work on!

Also, very sorry for not posting sooner I had a lot of exams so I didn't have time to post this story!