#so i took matters into my own hands hehehe

[danae-draws]

Did a quick painting study/interpretation of THE mermaid scene 🥹🥹

Check out below for the process gif!

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— AN INTRODUCTION TO CREATIVE CAPTIVITY

SUMMARY : dean wants to know more about you and takes matters into his own hands when you don’t show up at his bakery. unreasonably, he doesn’t expect you to come back home early, but his mission was mostly successful.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, implied panty kink, creepiness escalates, nerdy reader, reader isn’t perfect, (vague) chronic illness, voyeurism, b&e, stealing, slow chapter, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.6k

A/N : this chapter will lead up to the square stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. no baking :’(. heheh, Dean’s a lot softer and way more caring than the typical psycho-yandere type maybe some of yall were thinking of. I did research on yandere types and yandere traits, and found that it’s completely acceptable! in fact, a soft yandere is preferred, LOL. xx

Over the years Dean found that the perks of being undead included not having to sleep. That meant there were no nightmares to haunt him.. and now, that he had all the time in the world to watch you, to research you, first.

You were a fluffy cloud of love that became his companion through the sleepless, endless night. He knew seeing you again would feel like an eternity had passed, so he indulged in thoughts of you to keep him company.

He was home now and he had nothing to do as the moon bled through the windows of the place he “lived” in. He laid in his bed, unable to shut his brain off for the pretence of a peaceful sleep that he enjoyed doing routinely ever since he was a… vampire. 

His four hours of nothingness. 

He had too much time on his hands. 

He’d already read over a thousand books, watched over a thousand films and series, scrolled through the endless stream of videos on social media, and attempted to get good at hundreds of hobbies. What was the point of it anymore, after all?

Now, he thought of you. And that was the only point that made any sense to him. The only thing that mattered in his useless life. The only reason why he even wanted the sun to rise and bring another day. 

If it meant that he was able to see you again. To know everything about your existence. Then, it all mattered. The world needed to keep spinning and the world needed to be safe, for you. 

He took his phone from the nightstand and appreciated the wallpaper of his beautiful Impala. He was uncomfortably restless. He wanted to keep thinking of you, but he also wanted to shut his brain off. He couldn’t creep you out, it would ruin everything. He stared at the numbers telling the time, 1:24 AM. 

You were probably asleep by now. 

He wondered about you again. What position did you sleep in? What colour were your sheets? What was the texture of them? Did you use multiple blankets? Were you cold, often? Were your hands and feet always the only thing that was cold? Did you not suffer that way at all? Did you wear socks to sleep? What was the temperature of your home? Did you wear baggy clothes to sleep? Or something sexy? Or something cute? What was the colour of your walls? How did you decorate your home? Was it fun? Minimalistic? Did your house already smell like you again?

He cared so much about every tiny detail of your life and the place you called home. He itched to just get out of bed and find where you lived to see for himself. 

But for now, he lifted himself up slightly to rest against the headboard of his bed and unlocked his phone to find you wherever he could. He felt embarrassed to do so, but he searched your name on every app, including the dating ones he never removed despite being… Well, he hadn’t had sex since he became a vampire. He was terrified of anything bad happening to the women he slept with. 

The thought made him freeze. Would he lose control with you? Would he ever hurt you? His mind overflowed with images of your blood and him standing above you. He would die before he ever hurt you. He shook the thoughts away, remembering Lenore, and the handful of monsters that coexisted peacefully with humans. 

He could be with you. You could be his. 

You were all he could think about. It’s a shock that he hadn’t shoved his hands in his pants and pleasured himself just thinking of you. He would have, but he felt it would be disrespectful to you. 

He did try to relieve himself with those sexy vampire women in the past, but he just didn’t feel any sort of attraction towards them because so few of them even cared about humans. It was unbecoming. They were arrogant, indifferent, and it wasn’t even sexy. He just couldn’t get it “up” with bloodsuckers. So, what? He was still prejudiced and all that. Whatever, he spent most of his time as a vampire still hunting. 

He killed the entire nest and hunted down anyone that managed to slip through his fingers. He tried his hardest to keep being a hunter, with Sam’s brain protected with a wall, he had hope, a reason to keep going. But that was all gone, his family was gone: Sam, Cas. 

When word spread that he was a vampire, and it did—like a nuclear bomb—the fallout was massive. Somehow, the fear of the Winchesters was hundred-fold, even though, in all his time as a vampire, Dean hadn’t slipped up even once. 

He didn’t know how he did it. 

He really just did. 

He remembered the devouring thirst of being around humans when he was in the process of turning, while he looked for the leech that bled into his mouth for the cure Samuel and Sam were waiting to have confirmed. He could smell every human’s blood, taste the delicious quench of it in the air, and he somehow walked straight past every one. And when that one vamp opened the fridge to feed him a pick-me-up, the scent of it was overpowering, but never quite enough for his stubborn ass.

He declined and carried on with the mission, but the world had other plans for him. When he found the guy that turned him, of course he knew that Dean hadn’t fully turned; he was the leader of the nest, after all. He was smart and didn’t let Dean make any move unless he drained one of the women he didn’t find useful for the nest. 

He refused but the leader of the nest didn’t take no for an answer, and once again, forced Dean to feed on one of the women in the cages. Dean remembered that way it felt, the taste of warm blood soothing the aching dryness in his throat. Dean had planned on biting the poor girl for show and collecting the blood in his mouth to spit it out later, but once it touched his tongue, the bloodlust took over.

He didn’t know what possessed him to stop. Maybe the way the girl whimpered, because she was just a girl. Or the way she pleaded for him to stop with her weak, cracked voice. The way her body slowly sank into him and crumbled limply, but he somehow managed to push her away from him.

She thanked him, even though she was still stuck being a blood bag for the nest. Dean felt guilty, even by just remembering how it all started. His soulless brother, his idiot best friend. How was anyone supposed to know how to handle that situation? 

Dean grieved his human life. Having to abandon Lisa and Ben on top of it all. Then, his brother’s life. And finally, his best friend’s life. 

Sure, Cas was the one who made the mess to begin with, but what was the point of friendship if you couldn’t forgive them for the worst of the worst? Obviously, there was a line, but with the type of life they lived, what Cas had done didn’t cross the line. After all, Cas tried to make amends, even if it was too late. 

Dean could stay mad forever at Cas, but he was going to be ancient some day. What purpose would that hatred serve when everyone was dead? Forgiveness was all he had left to remind him he still had some semblance of humanity.

And right now, he needed to feel human. For you. 

He was more relieved than he cared to admit when he didn’t find you on any dating apps. So, he deleted every single one after he got the answers he was hoping to not find there. 

He hated that your Facebook was more dead than he was. You didn’t have your relationship status updated or your birthday published. There was nothing, just an old photo of you at some Korean restaurant. And even your family members’ accounts were as dry as his throat felt after going days without feeding. They revealed nothing, but he did find your friends: Bela Levante and Daphne Jordan.

But there was hardly anything to see about you on their profiles. God, woman, why did you have to hide yourself so hard?

He carefully scrolled through Instagram and groaned at another obstacle. Your account was private. He wished to stare at photos of you. The numbers on your profile teased him, he could see the amount of followers you had, the number of people you were following, and fuck… 43 posts he could be gazing at like a celebrity’s fanboy. 

He wanted to see everything “private” about your life, your hobbies, flashes, glimpses of your life, pets—if you had any, and everything about your family. All the little things that would have slowly painted you on the empty canvas in his mind. 

Dean shut his phone off with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling being illuminated with the moonlight, creating shadows from the tree that creaked outside by the window. 

How was he supposed to feel about you? What was he supposed to do to get closer to you? Would you see him again the next morning? Or anytime after that? Would he see you in days? Weeks?

Would you think of him at all? Or would you be too busy with your life to do so? Did you even want to see him again? Did you feel the pull he felt towards you? Was he being delusional to think that there could possibly be something between you and him?

He’d have to take matters into his own hands if you prolonged appearing in his life. If he got dozens of women to like him before, there’s no reason why you wouldn’t want him in the same way. He just needed to play his cards right. 

5 Days Later

Coming into your life was more difficult than Dean anticipated.

He went out more than he would have wanted, hoping to find you anywhere in town. So, you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be available for the first couple of days or weeks in town as you tried to settle in. He hoped it was just something you said to avoid Andy.

At least he knew you weren’t lying about that. 

He only saw you once three days ago at the grocery store. He watched you as subtly as he could, his eyes focused on your every move, his ears sharpened to your voice, every atom in his body was attuned to you, his nexus. 

He wished he was standing there next to you, as your boyfriend, a lover, a partner, whatever. As long as you were only his. So he could watch your cute faces when you touched something that you didn’t like, or be there to laugh with you when you giggled at something you saw, or to be there to remind you of something you forgot and had to pull up the list on your phone. He wanted to know what it was like to have another conversation with you, about anything. Was that asking too much?

He didn’t get everything he’d planned on getting when he got there, but at least he had your plates and the car you drove. He wished he was brave enough to have talked to you, to pretend to bump into you. Although it wouldn’t have been much of an act, he really hadn’t expected to see you there.

But there was something raw and real about watching you while you were alone, and in your head as you walked through the most-likely unfamiliar grocery shop. When was the last time you stepped foot in there? You stared at the signs above each aisle with surprise when you’d walk in and didn’t find what you probably would have years ago. 

He made his way to his car and thought of all the ways he could get you to be his. In any way that he could have you. All his ruminations and all his time was devoted to the goal of being with you. So much so that he felt like his entire life was on hold.

He knew it would start up again as soon as you entered his life. However, he hadn’t seen you—well, he hadn’t spoken to you in five days, and he wanted to respect you by letting you have your own space, but it was getting painful for him to be away from you for so long.

He waited to hear the beat of your heart or the sound of your voice being carried through the air and into his bakery, but he was only met with disappointment. Every time the door opened, he wished it was you walking in, he wished it was you smiling and flirting with him like every woman he regularly saw.

But you never showed up. 

Did he make you up in his imagination? Was he that desperate to feel something? Were you real and simply uninterested in him? That thought hurt more than it should have. He thought he’d left a good impression on you, and after you left that hundred dollar bill, his mind didn’t allow him to believe you hated him. In fact, it was the only proof that you were real after all. 

Why couldn’t you be as infatuated with him as he was with you? Why couldn’t you be as interested in him as the women who carved out time for him in their busy lives? 

You were impossible to get close to. His fingertips barely tapped the surface of your life and like a fish, you swam quickly in the opposite direction to evade being captured by him. But didn’t you see you’d be better off with him? Happier? Freer? More loved than you could fathom? More loved than you could ever be with anyone else? More loved than you have ever been loved?

You were on his mind every moment of every day since he met you. Was he nothing to you? How would you feel knowing that everything new he baked was because you had inspired him in his daydreams. He wished he could ask you how it tasted, what you liked, if he should make more of whatever new invention he had created. If he should add it to the menu. He’d make them all again for you to try them and give him these insights and suggestions. 

Mostly, he needed to know more about you. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you being a mystery. Or the fact that you’d never let him into your life to know the things that you inhibited within the safety of your home. Would the things in your house reveal your psyche? That’s all he wanted, to worm his way into you by knowing these things about you. 

Sure, he could be himself, but he needed an advantage first. He needed time with you where it wasn’t obvious he was imposing himself on your life without reason. Where could he accidentally or coincidentally find himself in order to spend time with you? So that it could all fall together perfectly as he has fantasised every waking moment of his existence since he met you.

He could only acquire that information by infiltrating your home. 

Dean didn’t expect this. 

It was all he could think when he tracked down your scent to where you lived—and he relaxed when he didn’t find your car parked in the driveway in front of your home. 

He blinked. 

He was astonished as he gawked at your home. The light of the stunning peach sunset was reflected on the tinted glass that made up the outer walls of your home. Those glass windows, from floor to ceiling, also reflected the breathtaking forest surrounding the area. How convenient that your house was surrounded by thick green trees. 

He stepped closer to your home to the surrounding area, the giant space that was entirely yours. There were a few plants, and despite being grateful about the lack of surveillance, he clicked his tongue in disapproval at the lack of it. 

You needed to be safe. 

He’d have to check out the glass, make sure it was shatter proof and bulletproof—even though there was no reason why your house should be armed against anything like that. He needed to make sure no creeps had made their way to your home, squatters or even people who may be infatuated with you. 

You hypocrite, part of his brain accused. But he huffed, pouting and narrowing his eyes straight ahead at the reflection of himself, scolding his brain for trying to compare him to those who were more selfish and probably more dangerous than him. He pushed the small voice that reminded him that there was nothing scarier or more dangerous than a bloodsucker being around a human. 

Dean pushed every thought away and had to quickly become familiar with the outside of your home before deciding it was safe to enter, to really get to know you. 

Were you going to clean this whole place by yourself? Did you have someone else do it? Did you cook? Or did someone else do that for you, too? He needed to know. How much freedom did he have to be in your home whenever it suited him?

He made his way to the porch and brushed his fingertips against the lock of your door. He may not have had a heart to race at the thought of being where you always were, where you felt safest, but his body still thrummed and tingled with excitement. 

Dean searched his jacket for the pick-set he carried in the inner pocket over his chest. He thought about how he hadn’t picked locks in a while. He didn’t have any reasons to, just the occasional need for it if he caught a case nearby. And ever since he became a vampire, he found that it was easier than before, easier to listen for the clicks of each pin falling as he slowly turned and prodded with his tools. 

He apologised to you under his breath once the door unlocked. 

He shoved the pick-set back into his jacket pocket while standing at the entrance of your home, and deeply inhaled the scent of you rushing outwards to greet him. Yes.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, surprised by the emptiness and the smell of newness that mingled with your sweet aroma. 

You were still way behind on unpacking. 

He found a shoe rack by the entrance and decided to respect your house rules by kicking off his boots and placing them neatly into an empty spot. So, that’s what it would look like if this were his home, too? His shoes, right next to yours. It looked right.

He curled his toes inside his socks, feeling the cool floor against his already cold skin and smiled. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it up at the coat rack, making himself at home. He could pretend for a few hours that this was how it always was.

He stepped deeper into your home, looked around and deflated. 

There wasn’t much to explore. Most rooms he walked into were empty, or they had boxes that had yet to be opened by you. Maybe it would scare you if he tried to help by taking everything out, so he left the boxes as you had them. 

Why hadn’t you made yourself at home? It’s been days and you haven't really done much. Was this just part of your indifference or was this because of the secret illness you had? Were you that busy with work? You were pretty vague about it when you were talking to Andy. 

For now, Dean sighed, he knew nothing. 

There was no indication of what was to be your living room. No furniture, no television, no tables. Unless he opened the boxes to peek inside and find out what each room would be, he would have to wait until you got to it yourself. 

At least your kitchen was easy to explore. Though most of the cabinets were empty. Only three glasses, four plates, two bowls… God, woman. Should he get you some things? He shook his head and quickly pulled open every door and drawer to peek inside the completely uninteresting contents. 

But finally, he got to your pantry. You had lots of snacks. Dean chuckled at the type of organisation that you had put them in. By colour. He smiled and reached out to touch them. He missed being hungry for this type of stuff, not that it stopped him from indulging in it every now and then anyway. 

His brain nagged him: Which ones were your favourite? Well, he had to guess that they were all your favourite to some extent. But maybe it was the Rice Krispies, they were nearly all gone. There were some spicy peanuts, too, and some other spicy, but still sweet, Mexican candies he had tried before—some, he hadn’t tried at all. 

His mouth would have watered if he were still alive. 

He snorted, moved on to read each package and box; he needed to try whatever he hadn’t already tried before, just to see if he could have that in common with you.

He didn't have to, but he wanted to be able to say: I have tried it before. At least. Maybe that would mean something to you, maybe it would matter. On the other hand, he already had a lot in common with you—in terms of preference for snacks. He liked your taste. 

He shut the pantry door and opened your fridge.

He pulled out the freezer and lifted a brow at the lack of contents. No frozen, microwaveable food. Just vanilla ice cream, some shrimp, salmon, halibut, and steak. That’s it? He frowned. Did you rarely eat at home or did you already cook whatever else could’ve filled your refrigerator? Maybe he was overthinking it; you looked healthy when he met you and when he saw you at the grocery. But looks could be deceiving—you were sick after all, and he had yet to find out what you had. 

Is that why you became a geneticist? Was your disease genetic?

He closed the freezer and opened the horizontal middle door. He found two bottles of mineral water, four bottles of water, and one can of Sprite. Was there any point to the giant refrigerator if you hardly used it? He snickered. 

After he finished checking out the kitchen—and after washing a bowl with traces of Greek yoghurt, honey, and oats and the spoon you’d used—he began making his way to the next room, trying to find more information about you.

He made a mental note of the softener and detergent you used for laundry and all the other cleaning materials you kept in the laundry room. He checked out the washing machine and dryer to make sure they worked properly—so you wouldn’t have to struggle. 

He frowned the whole time. He wouldn’t be bumping into you at the laundromat, that was slightly disappointing to think about. 

He made his way upstairs, giddy to find your bedroom once he got to the top of the stairs. He held his breath in anticipation after opening each door down the long hallway, always to an empty room, but he exhaled when finally found your room.

Your scent embraced him when he opened your bedroom door. Now, he’d definitely find out things about you that were much more interesting. Much more intimate. 

He was thorough with his search. 

He checked out every item on your shelves and your desk, your figurines and other collectibles. He took a picture of your bookcase to become familiar with your books the next time he visited the library. He opened each drawer and your dresser to review the contents thoroughly, your clothes and keepsakes and trinkets hidden beneath—and stole a pair of your underwear as he bit his lip; he knew it was wrong. 

He made sure to steal your pink lace underwear that didn’t match with a bra you owned. He easily discovered which bras weren’t part of a set and memorised your cup size. You chose comfort over sexiness—even the sexy lace you owned looked comfortable. You were so cute. 

He turned to your closet and examined every article of clothing—which was organised by colour as well. From sexy to cute dresses, old and new t-shirts, sexy and cute cropped shirts, and so much more he wanted to see you wear for himself. He found a few of your scrubs and imagined the way they’d hug your curves, even if they were hidden below a lab coat. You were so sexy. So fucking hot, he couldn’t believe he was touching the things you’d wear at some point.

He went through your shoes to memorise your foot size, but made a mental note of your favourite type of footwear. 

He closed the door and looked over your vanity desk and the limited amount of makeup. Mostly, you had hair products. Gel to enhance the volume, different brushes for different uses, a multi-use hair dryer or something like that, cute hair ties and hair clips and a small bundle of what he’d label as boring; they were just brown, black, and tan hair ties. 

He slipped a brown hair tie onto his wrist—one that was loose from usage. He pocketed the mini-lotion bottle that was half-empty—a miniature version of the larger bottle you owned. And after peaking through your extensive jewellery collection, he stole a thin silver necklace with a cute little charm. 

He searched your nightstand, glanced at your cute lamp, a small mirror, a water bottle and a pill bottle. At the sight of the orange container containing a month’s worth of medication, he instantly picked it up and snapped a quick picture of the name to do research later. He wanted to look out for you. 

He opened your password-locked laptop and the tablet beneath. He wouldn’t be getting into those anytime soon. He had no idea what your password could be or what set of numbers mattered to you. It was frustrating. 

He opened the single drawer and pursed his lips—amused. God, you were so naughty. But you did live alone, why would you hide it? It's not like you knew he’d be inspecting every object you owned. 

Dean leered at each sex toy with a smirk and imagined—the fact that you probably used them more than once fueled his daydreams—the way you’d pleasure yourself with them. How many times could you come? Which toy was your favourite? Who did you fantasise about when you were in the midst of immense pleasure? He hoped it was someone unattainable or fictional. 

His hand twitched at the metal handle he’d pulled to open up the drawer. He was tempted to touch and kiss each toy that had at some point touched the depths and outer skin of your sweet pussy. But he exhaled shakily and closed the weakly concealed Pandora’s Box to move on with his investigation of your life. 

He checked the bottom space of your nightstand, open to the world. He found an extensive collection of sticker sheets and sticker books, empty A6 notebooks, one that was full, and another that was halfway worked through. He pulled the two of them out, but turned his attention to your bed. 

His mind inquired things he simply couldn’t figure out without you telling him. Did you pleasure yourself here? Do you ever pleasure yourself on the chair of your writing desk? Or the backless seat of your vanity desk? Did you plan on doing it downstairs on a couch you’d set up in the future? 

He slid his hand down the soft cotton sheets of your bed and picked up one of your silk pillows, accidentally knocking off a weighted dinosaur and a tiny shark the size of his palm that rested on its back. The other small stuffed animals remained undisturbed as he lifted your pillow to his face and inhaled slowly, deeply the scent of your shampoo, softener, and detergent. 

He sighed softly, eyes closed. You smelled so good, he could probably bite you if you let him. He’d never want to purposely hurt you. He just needed to feel you. 

He pulled your pillow away from his lips and nose to fix it back in place along with your woolly companions and blindly set down the two books he’d begin reading once he was done with his exploration. 

Was this the same bed and the same sheets you’d slept in when you were a teenager? Were you as horny as he was at that age? Did you sleep with anyone at any point in your life—on these very sheets? Were they new? New as in bought here once you moved in? Were these the ones you used when you left home to go to university?

Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking of that. 

He stomped away to your bathroom and rifled through over-the-counter medication behind the mirror—allergy pills, Benadryl cream, ibuprofen. He found your pink with green toothbrush, your toothpaste, floss, and mouthwash. He quickly glanced at the shrinking bar of honey-coloured soap by the sink inside a small bowl.

He rubbed his fingers against the beige hand towel and then your olive-coloured towel by the shower door. He inspected the scent and brand of your shampoo, body wash, face washes, and conditioner.

Why was he so drawn to learn all these things about you? He never cared about any of these things before. Sure, to some extent he tried to learn stuff about Cassie and Lisa, but never like this. Why couldn’t he take it slowly? Couldn’t he be normal about you? You were just a woman. Just a woman who made every withering seed suddenly bloom in his desiccated heart and desolate soul. Of course he’d turn to you, like a sunflower turning toward the Sun. It was his destiny, one he wouldn’t dream of fighting. 

He returned to your bedroom and slowly plopped down on your bed. He smiled instantly, swallowed by your soft mattress, and laid down on your pillows with your notebooks in his lap. He lifted the one that was full and became wrapped up in the story of your life.

He was only partially disappointed that you’d only begun writing a year before. He only knew about that and still nothing of your past. Only through subtext and vague statements could he decipher events of your past life. And every now and then, something would bring up the past and that’s how he discovered small details about you. 

Inside your half-filled journal, he found your work schedule. 

“Residency,” he mumbled and glared at the extensive, ridiculous hours listed for you to work. No wonder he hardly ever saw you. No wonder you were so behind on unpacking. 

Dean’s ears perked up when he heard rocks and dirt crunching beneath tires. His heart would have stopped if it were beating and his blood would’ve run cold if it still ran through his body. He was instantly at the window of your bedroom watching you drive towards the house.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean muttered, watching as your car pulled up into the driveway. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He scurried to shove your books back into place before legging it downstairs to retrieve his jacket and shoes and panicked momentarily. He wasn’t ready to leave yet! 

Did he touch anything else? Did he move something he wasn’t supposed to? He was so enthralled with his expedition around your home that he’d completely blanked out anything he should’ve been mindful of. 

He made his way back upstairs and quickly threw his shoes and jacket into the farthest empty room down the hall. There’s no reason you’d check out every room. Were you paranoid? Wait, he hadn’t accounted for this. Damn it, he was way in over his head.

It was too late. You were already making your way up to your porch. Dean could hear your quiet sigh, the sleepiness of it made him feel warm—at least the illusion of it. 

He quickly rid the bed of the form his body had made atop your sheets by pulling carefully at the edges and smoothing his hand over the wrinkles that remained until your bed looked untouched once more. 

Dean’s ears perked up at the sound of your car keys and your shoes being kicked off carelessly. Dean was suddenly excited to see what you wore. So, we should hide? his mind questioned. We? Dean scowled and looked around before picking the cliché of all hiding places: the closet. 

It felt like an eternity before you began to make your way upstairs. 

Much to Dean’s dismay, you’d discarded your lab coat at the coat rack, so he wouldn’t be fulfilling his fantasy tonight. But he could hear the material of your scrubs brush against itself as you shuffled lazily up the stairs and into the hallway leading up to your bedroom. 

Your door creaked open, you stretched, and then began to push your pants down your legs. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward to gently prod the closet door open enough to watch your black scrubs get pushed down your bare legs.

You kicked them off along with your socks and left them on the floor to lift your shirt up. Beneath it, you wore a grey thermal shirt. Dean watched, his mouth parched suddenly as your body stretched upwards, just in your violet coloured underwear.

He bit his lip to stop himself from saying something under his breath about how sexy you were. He couldn’t risk you somehow hearing him. But soon, you were completely naked.

Dean peered lewdly at your bare body. The way your hair came loose over your shoulders to brush against your warm skin, the shape of your breasts, the way you shivered and your nipples tightened as you collected your clothes to throw it into the hamper. Your proportions and the entire beauty of you captivated him. 

He wanted to fuck you, yes, but he also wanted to know what it felt like to hold the elegant dip of your waist. To know what it felt like for your body to curve up and mould itself into his body when you hugged him. To know how your fingers felt when they were weaved through his, as you had sown yourself into his dead heart to give him the illusion of life, of warmth. 

What did it feel like to cup the back of your head when he kissed you? Or to hold your jaw as he tilted your head for the perfect angle to kiss in? What did your fingers feel like when they skimmed over his cold skin and twisted into his hair when you got lost in the kiss?

What did your mouth taste like if his tongue brushed against yours? What did your plush lips feel like against his? Where would your lips trail off to and how would you kiss him?

Dean was dazed at his vivid fantasy and then you disappeared into the bathroom and he finally ripped himself from the perfect twill of his daydream. Disheartened, he leaned into your clothes, sinking deeper into your closet and briefly relaxed as your soft clothes overwhelmed his senses. 

Dean considered leaving now that you were home. He sort of got what he wanted, information about you. The rest of your house may have been mostly empty, but your bedroom wasn’t. And your bedroom revealed more about you to him than the rest of your home would have.

Still, maybe you’d get on your laptop and he could discern your password. Yeah, that would definitely be ideal. He could stay in the closet. There was nowhere else he could hide and the bottom of the bed was pretty useless. Besides, there was no reason you’d check in here, none at all. 

He waited thirty minutes for you, on his phone looking up what he could about your medication. He learned quickly the side effects, what not to take with your medication, when the best time was to take it. Then moved on to the minuscule list of diseases the medication was used to treat.

He was thrown deep into the research, reminding him of the days when he would have to search things through libraries and files for lore on monsters and to brief himself on the case he’d taken. It wasn’t too different: he wanted to get closer, he wanted to solve you. The only difference was you weren’t dangerous and you were beautiful, and he actually felt motivated to willingly delve further into the rabbit hole that was your life. 

The shower turned off and Dean shut off his phone. 

It wasn’t long before you walked out of the bathroom and Dean moved closer to the closet door, peeking between the small crack as you walked into your bedroom. You were patting your hair dry with a smaller towel and had your back to him. 

You threw the small towel successfully into the hamper and sighed exhaustedly. You were so silent. He wondered if it was only because of the fatigue of your job or if you always wordlessly completed tasks. 

He would only know once you completed your residency. Or if he found you on a day where you didn’t have to work. But he didn’t think you’d have the energy to go out, even on a weekend or vacation, after working such laborious hours.

He continued to watch you expectantly as you made your way to your dresser where your underwear was, he watched you sift through the neatly organised garments before you plucked something out and then your towel came undone slightly.

“Stupid fuck,” you muttered angrily and adjusted it. He grinned at your short temperament, but he wished you’d just let it fall completely so he could see you again. You bent over and looked through your sock drawer, picked a comfortable pair and finally pulled the towel from your body and threw it over to the hamper where it only made itself halfway in. 

Dean bit his lip at the sight of your ass; he traced the long divot of your spine down your back and the curve of your waist with his gluttonous eyes. He mouthed a ‘wow’ and licked his lips as you slid your underwear carefully up your legs.

You picked out a tank top and matching pants from the middle drawers and made your way to your bed with your socks in hand. So you did sleep with socks on. Ankle socks, fluffy loose ones with pink and white patterns. 

You lazily lifted your sheets, your expression more somnolent than he expected. Your feet, covered in clean socks, hid beneath your thick warm sheets. Your whole body was covered and your cheek pressed into the same pillow he’d grabbed. 

He waited as your breathing slowed, faster than he expected, you were out. Your mind shut off, tired from long hours of work. He envied you for a moment and then allowed his affection for you to bloom in his chest as he pushed the closet door open and shut behind him. 

He made his way to you carefully, and watched your peaceful expression. You lips were parted slightly and your breathing was so low and deep that your heart slowed down serenely.

He considered kissing you as you slept, but he’d rather have your consent when you’re awake some day; that’d really show him that you wanted him. 

Instead, he pressed his lips to your jaw, then dragged them hungrily to your quiet, gentle pulse and kissed you there. His lips lingered, promising the blood that would travel to your heart, that one day, it would be all his. 

-> life ain't easy when you're a mythical creature

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[variety-fangirl]

On My Own / Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: It's the morning after Rafe's threatening behaviour, you're still shaken up, but JJ convinces you to go to the police for the safety of you and your baby. Your relationship with JJ also takes a turn for a huge change.

Warnings: typical toxic Rafe behaviour, swearing, threats, police reporting.

Authors note: Feel free to skip this! Here we are again with my terrible timing and scheduling. For the longest time, I had no ideas for the next part and my scheduling took a turn for the worst. I've been trying my hardest to get into University for the past 3 years and am finally here! There's been a lot going on personally behind the scenes for me too, so things have been difficult tbh 😅 But I've finally figured out where I want this next part to go, I also took longer to write this so it was a longer part for the wait 🫡

Word count: 2.6k

After a filling and delicious breakfast made by Sarah, you showered and dressed for the day. You knew you would need to speak to the police about Rafe's behaviour last night, but honestly? You didn't want to. You were frightened by the power he held because of his family and wealth. Peterkin was the only one you could trust if you were to report him, you knew she would listen and take you seriously. She wasn't corrupted or took bribes to hide the truth, she always did the right thing if she could.

You had been mulling over the idea all morning as you brushed your wet hair. You wanted to protect your baby from being near Rafe if you could, they deserved better than to deal with an unstable and cruel man like him. Did you regret your baby? Absolutely not. But did you regret ever getting involved with Rafe? Yes, more than anything. You knew what you had to do, you just didn't know if you had the strength to do it. (hehehe).

A knock sounded on your door, pulling you from your heavy thoughts. You were honestly thankful for the distraction. John B poked his head around the door as you called him in with a smile. He entered your bedroom, opting to sit on the bed next to you. He bumped shoulders gently with yours, "Hey you. How are you doing?" He questioned as you peered at him. You bumped his shoulder in return, offering your most convincing smile.

"I'll be fine once Rafe is away from me and my baby." You mumbled as you rubbed your clothed bump affectionately. John B nodded and placed his hand on top of yours, always the big brother you needed. He brought his arms up and around your shoulders, lovingly pulling you into his chest. "We'll make sure he never comes near either of you again, and even so, we are all here to protect you. No matter what." You slapped at his arm playfully, "Stop! You'll make me cry!" You could already feel the hormonal tears building in your eyes. That telltale burn. He laughed loudly, not stopping you from hitting him.

Once he calmed down, he teasingly learnt closer to your ear. "Sooooo, what's happening with you and JJ?" the clear smirk sounded even in his voice, you could feel the motion against your head. You turned to glare at him, not at all serious, "Do me a favour? Just fuck off." You pushed at his chest gently, not budging him but it's the action that counted for your pride. He laughed once again before letting you go to look at you properly.

"Seriously though. What's going on?" He questioned with a gentle smile as you scooted to face him fully. You knew you could trust John B with anything and that it wouldn't leave this bedroom unless necessary. You shrugged, "Not sure. Didn't even think he saw me that way until this morning. Now I'm rethinking everything, but not necessarily in a bad way." You commented thoughtfully. You were honestly surprised that your best friend was in love with you, and for years for that matter.

"I mean, I think you should give it a shot. You know no one would love you as fiercely or loyal as him. And he loves the baby already. Plus, you've been best friends for years, so you know him well." He mentioned, naturally bigging up his best friend like the good bro he is. "Only if you want to though, of course. No pressure, I won't mention this conversation to anyone else. Just think about it yeah?" He pulled you in for a proper hug, a natural bear hug that had you sighing contently.

You nodded against his chest, wrapping your arms around him in return. The feeling of love and warmth pulling the tears out of you. "Ahhh, for god sake!" You yelled laughing, frustrated with your over-emotional hormones. You both laughed, yours coupled with sniffles. He held you till you pulled yourself together, chatting about how best to go about things. Until you were ready to let go and go to the police station.

John B left the room whilst you finished getting ready for the anxious day ahead of you. You were beyond nervous, especially about how Rafe would react. Lord knows he would hear about your visit to the station through nosy dickheads watching you. You could already feel a headache forming. You groaned as you put on your shoes, with great difficulty, and then made your way downstairs to join the gang.

Everyone was here, waiting for you whilst they ate or drank coffee. Not everyone was a morning person, *cough cough JJ and John B*. But everyone was up and here for you. They had all been filled in with the details of what had happened. JJ offered to take you to the station while the group returned to John B's. You were so thankful for them all, but JJ most of all. He'd held your hand, metaphorically and physically throughout this whole process. No matter how tough it's been or how difficult you thought you were to be around, he was always there with encouraging words. Not once frustrated with you.

You and JJ pile into your car to go to the station, while the gang returns to the chateau. JJ drove instead of you and insisted on doing so, whilst you bathed in nerves. Music from the radio played quietly in the background as you stared out the windows. You hadn't realised your leg was bouncing repeatedly against the floor, that your hands in your lap were pulling at your sleeves, or that you were biting the skin on your lips absentmindedly. You only noticed when JJ's hand grabbed your knee, rubbing the area soothingly.

You turned to look at him, your knee now still, "it's going to be okay, sweetheart." JJ reassured, trying to calm your chaotic mind and seeping nerves. You placed your hand on top of his, taking a deep breath in as you laced your fingers with his. You place your unoccupied hand on his arm, cuddling his arm into you. You hum contentedly at the warmth he naturally produces, snuggling closer to him. You caught soft wafts of his cologne wrapping around your senses and it instantly helps calm you.

You sigh, "Thank you." You speak quietly, comforted by his desire to help you feel better. He squeezes your knee, not needing to say anything, he already knew you were grateful. He hums, "What were you thinking about in that beautifully stressed brain of yours anyway?" he wonders with a reassuring smile, his eyes staying on the road ahead. You also look forward, watching the sunny scenery go by. People were going about their normal day-to-day activities, some rushing around or exercising. Everyone else's normal lives... unlike yours, which was chaos because of one single man.

You breathe in and then out through your nose deeply before answering him, "Thinking about... what Rafe will do or how he'll react when he finds out. I don't imagine it'll be long. That prick always seems to hear about everything, even before others do. It's like he has eyes everywhere at all times or something." You huff in frustration, looking out the passenger window, "I can't eat, shit or piss without that asshole knowing... So who knows what he'll do when he finds out I've gone to the station to report his behaviour." You whisper the last part, feeling dejected about what was to come with him.

JJ squeezed your knee again, to try and help calm your raging nerves and worries. He nods, "I know. It's going to be difficult but we need to stop him somehow. He needs to stay away from you and the baby, he's dangerous. Or I'll do something that'll get me into trouble." JJ mumbled the last part, seemingly more to himself than to you. You sigh, the last thing you wanted was JJ getting intro problems or going overly out of his way for you. He does enough for you as is, so you don't want him to do anything more.

-

It wasn't before you reached the station and parked outside, opposite the building. You sat in the car for a few minutes before going in, trying to calm yourself long enough to talk to the sheriff. It was beyond frustrating that this was where you were at in your life. That this was what you were dealing with because you stupidly fell in love with the wrong man. You wanted to smack yourself across the head for being an idiot, despite knowing his reputation. You fell for his charm and good looks, like an absolute fool. But now you were here and you couldn't change the past. But you could shape your future.

You look to JJ and nod, letting him know you are good. You both get out, taking your time with JJ's help and walk towards the building. You were going to use every trick in the book to stop Rafe from coming near you or your child again. You would report and record everything that Rafe has done that would class as a risk to your child to keep him away. So help you, you would protect your child with everything you could. With your own life if you need to.

You make your way inside and speak to the man at the reception desk, requesting to speak to Peterkin privately. He points to the chairs behind you in the small waiting area, "Wait here for a bit while I speak with her. She's busy at the moment, so it may take some time." You nod in understanding, "It's urgent, so I can wait. Thank you, sir." You reply as you turn to sit with JJ on the wooden chairs. The chair squeaked in protest from overuse and years of never being replaced.

You and JJ wait as patiently as possible, chatting to keep yourselves entertained and pass the time until Peterkin arrives. JJ held your hand the whole time, sensing your nerves returning tenfold. If your leg repeatedly tapping against the ground or your fiddling free hand had anything to say about it. You were waiting for around fifteen minutes, getting more antsy as each minute passed by. By the time Peterkin called you to go into her office, whilst JJ waited in the waiting area, you were a sweating bucket of nerves.

Peterkin closed the door behind you both as you took a seat opposite her desk, your hands resting on your stomach. "Some water?" She asked with a smile, walking over to her cooler. You nodded, "Yes, please." You were in need of something cold to cool you down and quench the thirst that had formed since waiting. She filled a cup and then offered it to you before sitting at her desk, "Thank you." You said gratefully.

"So, y/n. What kind I do for you? Congratulations are clearly in order." She motioned to your stomach with a kind smile, she was always so nice to you. Still is. "Thank you, not long to go. My pregnancy is actually related to why I'm here." She nodded, giving you the opportunity to speak up.

You gave her the rundown of what Rafe had been doing since the day you confronted him about your pregnancy. It took you half an hour to mention everything you could, trying your hardest not to forget any details. She asked questions where necessary and nodded when listening, all while writing down notes. Peterkin was well aware of Rafe's behaviour, he was a celebrity at the station. Peterkin wouldn't admit it but she did not like Rafe at all. She was completely understanding and comforted you when you teared up about last night.

"Damn, honey... That damn Rafe. I'm sorry for what he's been putting you through, you don't deserve any of that. But legally? I can't do anything. Unless he threatens or hurts you and your baby physically, I can't report anything for you. My hands are tied. Off the record: No matter how much I personally would love to see him punished. That kid is nothing but trouble. But as soon as something else happens, with Rafe, there is no doubt that he will, okay?" She sighs frustratedly, knowing already how deflated and frustrated you must feel.

You nod, hiding all the true feelings that wish to come to the surface underneath. "I understand, if there is anything that I can do, please do let me know. And I'll inform you of anything else that happens. Thank you, sheriff." You get up from your seat and make your way to the door feeling completely hopeless about what you'll do with Rafe next. Peterkin stops you just as you're opening the door, still in the doorway. You see JJ getting up from his seat at the sound of the door opening.

Peterkin hands you a sticky note with her name and number in black pen, "anything you need, just call. Anything. Okay?" She rubs your arm gently after she passes the note to you, a motherly comfort sort of rub. It made you smile, despite all the negative emotions you were feeling. You nodded, "Thank you."

You walk towards JJ, putting the sticky note in your bag for safekeeping. You'd add her contact info to your phone later on. "You good?" JJ questions with concern laced in his tone. You'd been in there for a little while, he'd probably been worried about you. You smile as you look at him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and leaning into his side gently. JJ smiled down at you in return as you answered him.

You explain everything to JJ on the way back to the chateau, all while trying your best not to think all that Rafe had planned since last night. He was beyond angry at you for doing nothing wrong, but in his eyes, you'd double-crossed him. It gave you chills. JJ did his best to assure you that they would all look after you and that he'd kill Rafe if he came near you or the baby, which you appreciated deeply. But you didn't want to get them involved. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't yours either, but you'd made your choice that first time you let Rafe lure you in with a kiss at the back of a house party at Sarah's.

You'd figure something out, you always did. You wouldn't let Rafe win, no matter what. That prick got his own way, way too often. But not this time, no. Rafe was going to stay away from you and your baby. Even if that meant having to flee somewhere he wouldn't find either of you. You turned and looked at JJ as the car stopped, both just taking a moment before you went inside. "Oh, you have something on your cheek." You pointed out, looking intently at his perfectly clean cheek. He started rubbing at his cheek confused, "gone?" he questioned with furrowed brows.

You shook your head, "come here, I'll get it for you." You motioned for him to come closer and as soon as he did, your lips were on his. Just a simple 3-second pec, to test the waters, despite his confession to John B this morning. You pulled away and stared at him with anticipation of his reaction. His eyes were wide in shock and you thought you'd fucked up. You went to move away but JJ grabbed the back of your neck and desperately pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours with a moan.

The more you looked at JJ, the more the talk with John B from this morning played on your mind. You'd been thinking of JJ as something more ever since, trying wouldn't hurt, would it? He wouldn't hurt you the way Rafe did and will. JJ was different and you couldn't lie that you'd never looked at him that way. Trying wouldn't hurt, would it?

Taglist: @bardi4l @fictionconnoisseur @thecraekenslover @brooklynscherry-z

[writingstoraes]

out to the world 🌎

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread and not revised so please expect errors hehehe please lmk what u think by replying or messaging and if u wanna be part of my taglist! <3

about: fans and people in the paddock have been trying to figure out whether charles is in a relationship or not. amongst the rumors, charles has had enough after seeing a series of mean comments about you.

paddocksays

liked by pierregasly, charloslove, leclercs, and 20,078 others

paddocksays F1 Ferrari driver Charles Leclerc spotted with a mystery woman having a splendid time on a yacht in Maranello. The same race weekend, Charles was accompanied by the same woman outside of Ferrari's HQ and he was seemingly very protective of her and apparently came out of the doors holding hands.

Is the Monegasquè finally off the market?

leclercs WHAT THE FUCK PIERRE LIKED?????

dr3stappen when will he make a dummy acc so hes not slipping on stuff like this 💀

ferrarifan Ok but Pierre liking doesn't confirm it,,, man probably thought this was pure bs and had a laugh

leclercs they were holding hands...

ferrarifans Dont you hold hands with your friends? Are you friendless?

charleswdc OMG go king so deserved

ferraritifosi Does it matter? She is probably a gold digger anyways.

ferrari1 Yeahhh lol riding off on that ferrari paycheck Charles has

16lecs55 Lol his ex was prettier

paddocksays

liked by charleswdc, dr3stappen, maxyracey, and 76,095 others

paddocksays Ferrari's very own lover boy? Charles Leclerc spotted out and about today on the streets of Monte Carlo with the same woman he was with in Italy. The "couple" is definitely not trying to be subtle.

Fans suspect that the woman is Y/N Y/L/N, a friend of Alex Albon's girlfriend, Lily.

tifosi1 Not even trying to hide the PDA, she is definitely using him

ferrarilover Clearly she wants some clout and some 💸💸💸

charleswdc they are trying to be subtle yall just dont know how to give them privacy ffs

ferrari1655 Not good enough for him lol he can do a lot better

sainzchamp ohhhh she ugly why is he even w her 💀💀💀

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, lilymhe, and 2,450,334 others

charles_leclerc Up until now I never thought I could meet someone so loving, kind, and mesmerizing in all ways possible. To the only person I want to dance all my dances with, tell my ridiculously unfunny jokes to, and parade the streets with at midnight because we were craving pizza, you have my whole heart.

I am in a very loving relationship and I have never been happier. I ask everyone who's been making awful, unwarranted comments about Y/N to stop. All rumours and hearsays about her that paint her i negative light are not true. She does not deserve any of it and is the best person I know.

carlossainz55 I'm not the best person you know???

pierregasly Hurts, right?

charles_leclerc Please get out of my mentions 🙏

yourusername me? after your money? you havent even paid me when i put gas in all of your cars

charleswdc LMAOOOO SHES SO

charles_leclerc Will wire it to you now, chèrie 😘

yourusername no need, just bought u a new car

lilymhe MY LOVESSS ❤️❤️❤️ where are the mean comments im ready to fight

danielricciardo My man finally hard launched 🎉

yukitsunoda0511 MY PARENTS!!!!

yourusername kidding asside, je taime my love 🤍 my always in all ways!

pierregasly I feel like I had something to do with this

landonorris Please make a dump account dude

----------

tagging: @slytherheign <333

notes: this took me almost two hours lmaooo lmk what u think!!! ill be making a directory soon with all of my works i just need to figure out how to do masterlists 🥹 tysm for reading 🤍

[carcarcraziiv2]

Heartsteel Ezreal Boyfriend HC's

On a side note, I'm using wet--milk's gifs on like all of these wanna say thanks for clippin good gifs person!

~To the cute green haired Ezreal~

~Floof, mostly just floof honestly -shrug- as always enter at your own risk!~

Ezreal is the kind of guy who does not G.A.F about PDA. He will kiss you, hug you, smother you in affection no matter where you are. Ironically, he was shy when the two of you first met, but that flew out the window as soon as he realized how amazing you treat him and how you accepted him so purely. Contrary to his general attitude, if anyone starts giving you any extra attention that makes him or you uncomfortable, he will confront them. He will be brave and walk up to them and tell them who he is to you and make sure they know not to f around. "You're so cuuute! Come here. -Hug-. Honestly, y/n, I never want to let you go." "Is there a reason you're talking to my partner? Carry on, see what happens."

Ezreal is THE joker. He acts shy a lot of the time, but he is a huge goof ball. He will constantly be scheming with his bandmates for a silly prank to pull on you. As a matter of fact, Ezreal and Sett have pulled quite a few pranks on you. They never let you in on the ones against Kayn and Aphelios though, and certainly it can't be because they don't want you to know all their secret plans, right? On the contrary, it is hilarious to prank him especially to scare him, because he has the best reactions! Usually, you team up with his other victims to get back at him, and it makes it all the more worth it. "Hehehe, sorry my love. We just thought it would be funny. Please don't be mad at me? Awh, I knew you couldn't stay mad at this face!"

Ezreal is... an attention seeker. All his life he has been striving to be in the spotlight, and that is no different when it comes to you. He will be attached to you by the hip wherever you go. He even took it upon himself to steal some of "his" posters from his bandmates rooms and hang them up in your bedroom, so you always see him even if you aren't together. If you ignore him to rile him up, be prepared for an onslaught of tackle-cuddles and kisses when it's just the two of you. He will also take it upon himself to shower you in attention. When you dress up for him, for example, he will lower his glasses and look at you through his lashes with his jaw dropped. He is your ultimate hype man. "Do you like them? Yeah, I used to be in a band before Heartsteel, can you believe it? What? No, I'm not taking them down!" "Come here, why have you been ignoring me? -1000 tiny kisses all over your face- You have no choice but to pay attention to me now!"

Ezreal's kisses are sporadic, chaotic, and messy- but not in a bad way. He has this way about him that makes him almost seem desperate when he kisses you, like he's a man starved. Sometimes he will even push you against the wall, groaning into your mouth when you finally let him in. He will back away from you, pulling at his hair and biting his lip to show you how much you affect him. On the other hand, if you take the lead he will literally melt into a puddle. If you grasp his face, pull him close and kiss him gently, he releases little whines that make butterflies erupt in your stomach. "Gods, you're so perfect. I'm not going to stop kissing you. Ever. You got that?"

Ezreal is a pouter when you argue, but he is also such a joker that it's hard for him to tell when you're actually upset with him. Once he does, he will do literally anything to make sure that you aren't mad at him for long, even if it means contradicting what he thought was right in the moment. He will become a soppy mess if you actually show him your anger. May even shed a tear. By the end of it, you feel so bad you have to give him loving to make up for it all. "Love, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were serious... I promise I'll pay more attention next time, okay? Come here, let's cuddle about it."

Ezreal just doesn't say goodbye. As a matter of fact, he just assumes he is going with you wherever you go, and vice versa. If you somehow end up somewhere without him, if he doesn't know where you are, he may just go into a slight panic? Usually running to Yone for help, eventually getting a text back from you (he sent SO MANY texts). His separation anxiety is cute, even though it's sad, and it makes you hyper aware of just how obsessed with you he is. "Where ARE you, my love? Oh my gods, you scared me! Please don't leave me again, I don't think my heart can handle it."

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

OKAY SO, I AM A BIG FAN AND SIMP OF BAGRATION, and I will tell some curious facts about him that I like a lot for his propaganda! (It's a bit long, but it's worth it).

1.- He was a skilled painter! In a historical novel of his it is said that he learned to draw by himself and his education was mostly based on books and neighbours (he was of noble lineage but his family was exiled and his economic situation was very poor). He showed his paintings to the imperial family (including Ekaterina) and made a sketch of the wife of Paul I!Unfortunately, his works have been lost in time.

2.- In 1803... Do you know what he did? He took care of 47 children of his soldiers! Something very tender on his part, he was like a father figure yippieee.

3.- Speaking of a father figure, he had a father and son relationship with his soldiers, he cared a lot about them and made sure they were well fed and clothed! There is an anecdote that Bagration had a doctor arrested for a month because the doctor was not treating his soldiers properly.

Of course, he also imposed discipline on them and they were very obedient to him, they were ready to die under Bagration's command and at Borodin, when the rumour of his death spread, it increased the fervour of the soldiers and they decided to fight back harder. They also captured 335 French soldiers,

4.-he was too good to exist! He always tried to be on good terms with others and it didn't matter if you borrowed money from him and didn't pay him back, he was fine with that (he was also very unattached to money lmao).

5.- He had a good sense of humour, before meeting his future aide-de-camp, Denis Davydov, he had heard that Denis had written a poem making fun of his aquiline nose.

When they finally met, Denis was a little nervous about being in front of Bagration because of his joke, and Pyotr points at the hussar with "this is the one who made fun of my nose" but Denis quickly responds by saying that it is a compliment and that he would like to have a nose like Pyotr's (?

I don't really remember Denis' response, but it was something like that and that was the beginning of a nice friendship. Denis continued with his jokes and on one occasion he told Bag "That the enemy was very close to their noses", to which Pyotr replies that "if it's in mine, we have time for breakfast, if it's in yours, we have to hurry!"

6.- unfortunately he spent a lot on dinners to maintain his status, on his table there were always treats for others but he didn't even have a fixed place to live. He was very modest and his motto was "Everything for others, nothing for yourself", he often ate in the same cauldron as his soldiers and I like to think that when his soldiers were feeding, Bag appears with a cup of food and decides to walk around the place to check that everyone is eating but finds one soldier bothering another soldier to eat together, so Bag proceeds to hand his cup of food to that soldier hehehe.

7.- outgoing, he had his own lounge and many people came there. He was a hospitable and generous host, he was quite an interesting and entertaining interlocutor, he liked to talk about his experiences in the, if I remember correctly, Italian wiwiwi campaigns.

And here is Yermolov's description of him on the subject:

"Prince Bagration had envious enemies, but, with a subtle and flexible mind, he made strong connections at court. Charming and affable, he maintained good relations with his peers. Attentive: he rewarded his subordinates and idolised them, delighted in their manners, it was not difficult to take advantage of his credulity, but only in matters little known to him.

8. He met Murat and Lannes in person for a false armistice. Pyotr was able to cajole Murat so well with compliments that Murat, cajoled by the Russian general, willingly accepted the armistice while Lannes wanted to fight lmao, and then they were invited to a dinner.

Jean and Pyotr chatted for a while over a glass of mulled wine, all that is known of the talk is that Jean told him that "if the command had been in my hands, we would already be fighting".

9.- he is described as an ugly man and many biographers have done so, which is wrong. Why, look at his portrait by George Dawe! Are you going to deny me that he looks beautiful there? It reminds me that Louis Alexandre had called him ugly and black because of his marriage to Catherine, but he is the real ugly one! Just look up Louis' portrait and you will see the truth!

And here is a description of Pyotr's physique yippieee:

10.- He was like an inexperienced and innocent adolescent in matters of love, he was shy and did not know how to insinuate himself or deal with female affection because he was not used to it, that's why he was always reserved with his feelings about Catherine (who pursued him only with the malice of conquering and abandoning him, everything ended badly) until Paul I arrived and made a disaster that marked Bag for life.

11.- their Marriage was an absolute failure. Bag satisfied the whims of his wife Catherine in order to win her affection, but it was in vain and some time later she left Russia and began to be disloyal to Bag. Pyotr always defended her because he said it was a husband's duty, and he always sent Catherine money when she asked for it, even though it would mean running out of money and carrying a debt until his death :(

That aside, he was quite faithful and respectful, anyone in his place would have told Catherine to go fuck herself and do what she did, be unfaithful, but still he never did, except for Alexander I's sister Ekaterina.

They kept up a correspondence and romantic walks, she even flirted with him, but this was not to the royal family's liking and they were quickly driven away.

In another universe they end up together, I know they do.

Besides the fact that Bag is the kind of loving and lovable man in a romantic relationship who would spoil and protect his partner without a thought, I would have loved to be his wife 😔.

12.- in Borodin he was severely wounded and with time his wound was getting worse, but still he was active and cared more for others. He looked calm about his future death and intense pains, never complained and was not afraid of dying. His last days he drank wine for thirst and to cope with the pain, until the agony came and took him away from this world....

Well, there's more but I've forgotten some parts! I'm also still researching but please vote for Bagration! He deserves it, he's my pookie bear, I love him so much!

Art made by @galakteon meow meow

.

[domm1etae]

sent to tempt me - chapter three

chapter three: under pressure

chapter summary: Yunho struggles with guilt and confusion after overhearing Mingi the night before, but much worse is coming his way in the form of Mingi's friends

pairing: yunho x mingi

genre: smut (not yet but there will be eventually), angst, fluff, romance, m/m, non!idol!ateez, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, drama, coming of age, collage, religion

rating: 18+ (for the whole series bc there will be smut eventually) | mdni

word count: 2.2k

warnings under

collage, roommates, sub!yunho, dom!mingi, bad boy mingi and religious church good boy yunho same-sex attraction, m/m, teasing, dark themes, homophobia, self discovery, pet names, strangers to lovers, religion and religious topics, aaaand more will be added soon hehehe

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author's note: you wanted good Mingi and mean friends so here you have it hehehehe

Yunho didn’t sleep that night.

No matter how many times he closed his eyes or turned over on the stiff dorm mattress, he couldn’t block out the sound of those moans or the rush of blood that had accompanied them. They played on a loop in his mind, teasing and tormenting him with their sinful echoes. Worse, the idea that Mingi might be the one responsible for them kept creeping in, and Yunho hated how the thought stirred something deep within him. He lay there for hours, staring up at the ceiling and praying for morning to come quickly, so he could escape the confines of his own room and maybe, just maybe, forget what he’d heard.

But the morning didn’t bring peace, only dread.

By the time Yunho dragged himself out of bed, showered, and dressed, he was already a mess of nerves. He tiptoed around their shared dorm, hoping to avoid Mingi entirely. Yet fate, or perhaps bad luck, had other plans.

When Yunho entered the kitchen, Mingi was already there, leaning casually against the counter with a bowl of cereal in hand. His hair was slightly messy, like he’d just woken up, but his expression was sharp—too sharp for Yunho to handle right now.

“Morning, roomie,” Mingi greeted, his tone casual but his smirk anything but.

Yunho froze in place, his hand halfway to the cupboard. “M-Morning.”

Mingi eyed him for a moment, then chuckled softly. “You okay? You’re acting weird.”

“No, I—I’m fine,” Yunho stammered, grabbing the first thing his hand landed on and clutching it like a lifeline. He tried to focus on the box of cereal in his hands, but the weight of Mingi’s gaze was unbearable.

Mingi took another bite of his cereal, chewed thoughtfully, and then said, “Hope we didn’t keep you up last night.”

The words were casual, but the smirk accompanying them was anything but.

Yunho felt his face heat up instantly, his mind racing with a hundred ways to escape the situation. “I—uh, no. Not at all. I slept fine.”

“Really?” Mingi raised a skeptical eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Because you look like you didn’t get a wink of sleep.”

Yunho’s grip on the cereal box tightened, and he stared down at it like it held the answer to all his problems. “It’s nothing. Just…had a lot on my mind.”

Mingi hummed, clearly unconvinced, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he changed the subject. “Hey, by the way, some friends are coming over later. We’re gonna play games in the living room. Hope that’s cool with you.”

Yunho barely registered the words, his mind still stuck on Mingi’s earlier comment. He nodded vaguely, mumbling something that might have been agreement before hurrying out of the kitchen with his cereal in hand.

Mingi’s voice followed him. “Great talk, roomie!”

Yunho practically fled to his room, shutting the door behind him like it could shield him from whatever just happened.

Yunho barely made it through breakfast, his thoughts still tangled in the chaos of last night and the lingering tension in the kitchen. The whole conversation had been awkward, his nerves constantly on edge. The way Mingi had looked at him, that sly grin, it was enough to make his heart race in a way he couldn’t explain.

He forced himself to gather his things, not daring to linger in the dorm any longer. The thought of running into Mingi again sent a wave of panic through him, so he hurried out, barely acknowledging the world around him as he made his way to class.

Walking through the campus, Yunho tried to focus on his way to school, something to anchor him in the present. His literature classes were a blur of lectures and discussions, his thoughts perpetually wandering back to Mingi. It was impossible to concentrate, his mind constantly flickering back to the sounds from last night, the way his body had reacted against his will.

Mingi’s laughter had echoed through the walls like a curse. And now, no matter how hard he tried to push it away, the idea of Mingi—his roommate, this loud, charismatic guy who seemed to attract attention effortlessly—lingered in his thoughts. Yunho could barely focus on anything the professor was saying, not when all he could think about was the look Mingi had given him earlier, as though he knew something Yunho couldn’t comprehend.

The rest of the day felt like a blur, punctuated by moments of tension whenever his thoughts strayed toward the mysterious connection he seemed to have with Mingi. But eventually, the school day ended, and Yunho found himself back at the dorm, staring at the door like it might swallow him whole.

He didn’t want to go back. Didn’t want to face Mingi and the mess his own feelings had become. But there was no way around it.

He opened the door slowly, creeping inside as quietly as possible. The living room was empty, much to his relief. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and made his way to his room, desperate to hide away from the world for a few hours. The weight of the day’s classes hung over him, but it was the thoughts of last night, the sounds he'd heard, that made his stomach twist. He had tried so hard to bury them at school, to focus on his studies, but it had been impossible.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Yunho exhaled heavily, leaning against it, his back pressed to the cool wood. His pulse was still rapid, his hands trembling slightly as the image of Mingi filled his mind once again.

Mingi’s voice, those sounds, they were still so vivid. Yunho’s body heated at the thought. He gripped his chest, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could make the images go away. But they didn’t. It was like they were seared into his brain, taunting him with something he couldn’t understand.

"God, please," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but the desperation was clear. He didn’t know why this was happening to him, why his mind kept wandering back to Mingi like this. He was trying to stay focused, to fight the urges gnawing at him, but nothing seemed to work.

He sat down on his bed, the cool sheets against his skin doing nothing to calm the feverish thoughts racing through his head. He needed something to clear his mind, to find some semblance of peace, but he didn’t know how.

Without thinking, Yunho found himself reaching for the small Bible on his desk, fingers trembling as he opened it, not really knowing what he was searching for—comfort, maybe, or just an escape. His mother had always told him that in moments like these, when he was lost, prayer would lead him back. He had always relied on it in the past.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, holding the Bible close to his heart, and bowed his head. "God, I’m sorry," he began softly, the words coming with a quiet, broken breath. "I don’t know what to do. I keep thinking about Mingi, about… everything I heard."

His throat tightened, the shame bubbling up again. He didn’t want these thoughts. He didn’t want these feelings. They were wrong. Everything he’d been taught told him that this—this temptation—was a sin. And yet, the more he tried to suppress it, the stronger it seemed to grow.

"Please," Yunho whispered, squeezing his eyes shut, his chest tightening with emotion. "Help me understand. Help me find peace. I don’t know if I’m supposed to feel like this. I don’t know if this is right."

A silence fell over him, thick and suffocating. The only sound in the room was his own breath, ragged and uneven as he sat there, trying to force himself to calm down. His heart pounded in his ears, his body tense as the guilt overwhelmed him. He could feel tears threatening to spill, but he didn’t want to give in to them. He was supposed to be strong, wasn’t he? He couldn’t let this break him.

But Mingi’s voice, Mingi’s presence—it haunted him. It was too much.

“God… please,” Yunho murmured again, his voice barely a whisper now, as if confessing the truth to the silent room. “I don’t know what to do with these feelings. Why can’t I let them go?”

The words were a prayer, a plea for clarity he wasn’t sure he was going to get. He kept his head lowered, his hands trembling against the edges of the Bible. What was happening to him? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Mingi, about that night, about what he had heard?

The silence stretched on, unbroken, until Yunho finally lowered the Bible and set it aside, too worn out to continue praying. He lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. There were no answers. Just confusion, frustration, and a growing sense of guilt.

His eyes burned, but he refused to let himself cry. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to push it all out of his mind, but the images—Mingi, the sounds, the overwhelming tension—came flooding back. The feeling in his chest, the mix of guilt and something else, was impossible to ignore.

Since Yunho knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep now, he decided it would be more productive to embrace the situation rather than lie awake in frustration.

With a heavy sigh, he sat up in bed and turned his attention to the stack of homework on his desk, knowing that it was unlikely he would get any rest until his mind had a chance to work through some of his lingering thoughts. As much as he hated to admit it, the anxiety about his studies seemed to fuel his inability to relax. He glanced at the pile of textbooks and papers, wondering if diving into his assignments would at least give him some peace of mind. There was no point in lying there trying to force sleep, especially when he could be productive.

Grabbing his laptop and settling in a more comfortable position with his desk lamp casting a warm glow, Yunho opened his notes and started sorting through them.

But as he sat at his desk, buried under assignments and notes, the nagging feeling of hunger crept up on him. His stomach growled in protest, and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, he knew he couldn’t stay cooped up in his room forever. The last thing he wanted was to go out there and run into Mingi, or worse—his friends.

Reluctantly, he grabbed a few things and stepped out into the hallway. The sound of laughter reached his ears before he even reached the kitchen, and Yunho froze. Mingi’s voice, accompanied by the voices of others, was loud and unmistakable. The thought of facing them made his stomach twist in knots.

There was no turning back now.

Taking a deep breath, Yunho steeled himself and walked toward the living room, hoping to slip by unnoticed. But that didn’t last long.

As soon as he stepped into the doorway, the teasing started.

“Ayo, Mingi, who’s this?” a voice called out, followed by laughter.

Yunho’s heart dropped to his stomach, the blood rushing to his face. He hadn’t even had a chance to make himself invisible before the attention was on him.

One of Mingi’s friends—someone Yunho didn’t recognize—leaned forward, an amused smirk playing on their lips. “Oh my god, Mingi, is this your new boytoy?

As everybody again laughed another person added “Damn, Mingi, I didn’t know you were dating. Since when are you into guys like this?”

The words hit Yunho like a punch to the gut, his body frozen in place. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. His mind screamed for him to run, but his legs betrayed him.

Mingi’s friends continued, laughing as if they were in on some inside joke Yunho wasn’t a part of. “What’s a guy like that doing here? Is he your little secret or something?”

Yunho’s face burned, his hands trembling at his sides.

He wanted to sink into the floor, his face burning with shame. He stood frozen in the doorway, unsure of how to react, wanting to just disappear and pretend none of this was happening.

But then, out of nowhere, Mingi’s voice cut through the tension. “Yo, guys, shut up.” He said, not taking his eyes from the TV, where probably some game like Mario Cart was playing. “This is my roommate, Yunho. He’s just here to get something to eat. Leave him alone.”

“And yeah,” Mingi continued, his voice more clear as he shot a serious look to Yunho, “he’s probably just trying to disappear again after he grabs a snack. Right?”

Yunho met Mingi’s eyes for a moment, and he understood immediately what Mingi was implying. Mingi was giving him an out, a chance to escape without further humiliation.

Yunho nodded quickly, his throat tight. He grabbed the nearest snack from the counter and turned to leave without another word, eager to retreat to the safety of his room.

He collapsed onto his bed, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. The anxiety was still there, gnawing at him. But for the first time since he’d met Mingi, Yunho felt…protected.

It was a strange feeling. Unsettling and comforting at the same time.

But he couldn’t deny it: Mingi had stood up for him. And maybe, just maybe, that meant something.

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[lovelynim]

The One That Got Away

Honkai: Star Rail - Sampo x Gepard

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @fresh-thomato!!!! I couldn't refuse such a request from my biggest supporter, huehuehue. You are one of the best people I met in this site and I really hope you like this!

It's already june 15th in Brazil, so I don't want to waste a single second before giving you your gift hehehe

Happy birthday, my dear, hope you have lots of good moments and may all yours dreams come true!

Summary: Gepard needs to catch some sly mercenary, but things go completely out of hand.

Word count: 1865 words

Gepard massaged the side of his head with two fingers while he listened to his soldiers’ report about their current mission. He needed to remain calm, focused and, above all that, come up with a proper plan to catch that damned mercenary that has been causing all kinds of trouble to the silvermane guards lately.

“That’s all, sir,” the soldier said out loud before taking a step back to align with the rest of the group’s formation. Gepard nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he took a deep breath.

“Based on the reports, we know the target is somewhere inside the Administrative District. We need to act fast to cover the largest area as fast as possible,” the captain started, looking to his men as he continued to explain the plan he had just come up with, “splitting up seems like the best course of action under these conditions. Let’s divide our group into pairs and start searching.”

“B-but captain, sir,” one of his soldiers interrupted, “we are in 7, someone will end up alone.”

“And that will be me,” Gepard said, with a serious look on his face, “I’m more than enough to deal with some mercenary, so don’t worry about me.”

The rest of his men nodded, paying attention to their captain’s commands as he designated each pair to a different region while taking a different part of the city for himself. With the unit dispatched, Gepard started his patrolling.

Sampo Koski could play the fool as much as he wanted, but Gepard knew what the mercenary was capable of. After all, he wouldn’t have made this far if he didn’t. Truth to be told, the captain couldn’t help but to recognize how… good he was at this.

Crossing both the upper and the underworld, going through all kinds of security measures for his services… Sampo was a real headache. And that was exactly why Gepard felt like he should take the matter into his own hands.

Inspecting one alley after the other, the silvermane guard kept walking towards the edges of the city, already starting to wonder if his men had any more luck than him in finding the criminal.

 Empty… empty… empty… where was he? This whole search was starting to feel more and more like a total waste of time. Were the reports wrong all this time?

But just when Gepard was about to turn around and walk back to the center of the district, a feeling of being watched made the captain stop. As he checked the end of the alley, he could spot someone - with blue-ish hair - peeking their head to look at him.

And just as they were caught, the figure hid itself. Gepard gritted his teeth, clenching his hand into a tight fist as he started running. “Hey, you! Stop right there!” He shouted, getting to that alley as fast as he could.

As he turned around the corner, however, the captain was met with a dead end. An empty dead end, to be more precise.

“What..?” He muttered, walking inside it as he looked around, searching for any clue of where that figure might have gone. They couldn’t have simply vanished out of thin air, could they? He placed his hand on the nearby wall, dragging it along as he walked, trying to find any secret device.

“Looking for someone, captain?” Sampo muttered close to the bottom of Gepard’s ear, his warm breath sending shivers down his neck. The captain widened his eyes, completely caught off guard.

With a swift move, Gepard turned around, trying to slam his clenched hand against the mercenary’s head. Yet, thanks to his previous unawareness of Sampo’s presence, the other man could avoid the strike with ease, quickly pinning Gepard’s hand against the wall where it landed.

“You!” Gepard groaned, about to move his other hand, but freezing in the middle of his action as Sampo thrusted his blade just inches away from his head, probably as a threat, the captain supposed.

“Oh, were you looking for me?” The mercenary grinned gently, standing in front of Gepard while keeping his hand pinned. “I’m flattered, captain, you know how much I love the attention.”

A faint blush spread across the blonde’s face at the comment. It would probably have gone unnoticed if it wasn’t for how close Sampo’s face was to his. “Unhand me this instant, Sampo Koski,” the blonde roared, gritting his teeth as he tried to intimidate the other and free his hand from his grip.

“Easy there,” Sampo insisted, chuckling nervously as he looked over his shoulder, “I just need you to wait… a few minutes before my client is done, you can do that for me, right, captain?”

“You are bold to ask me to cooperate with your schemes.”

“I will take that as a compliment,” Sampo continued, checking his back every now and then, waiting for his client’s sign and looking out for any other silvermane guard.

Gepard sighed, taking his eyes up to his restrained wrist, trying to find an opening to turn the tables and arrest the mercenary once for all. Clenching his other hand, the captain waited for the right second to strike, just looking for an opening in the mercenary’s guard…

“This guy is sure taking his tim-”

As Sampo turned his head back to the silvermane guard he captured, he could catch a glimpse of an incoming punch towards his face. In the brief seconds he had to plan his reaction, all the mercenary could do was grab the first thing inside his reach and prepare for the incoming impact. 

With his eyes closed shut and shoulders slightly scrunched up, he tightened his grip around Gepard’s pinned wrist and tried to block, or at least hold down, his other arm. However, he missed and ended up landing his hand against the captain’s side instead of the incoming punch, but at the very moment he touched Gepard’s body, an unexpected sound caught Sampo’s attention.

“GYAH-”

“H-huh?” Sampo opened his eyes, blinked in confusion as he looked back to Gepard, finding the captain with cheeks tainted by a pink tone from embarrassment and a crooked smile on his lips. His hand, that once was inches away from delivering a strong blow, was now tugging at his arm, trying to pry it off his body.

Looking down to his hand at the other man’s side, the mercenary squeezed the spot again, curious about that reaction.

“W-whahat are you- hnng!” Gepard choked on a giggle, trying his best to hold his reactions and push Sampo’s hand away from his body.

“Ohh…” Sampo hummed at his discovery, continuing to massage the captain’s side with enough pressure for him to feel through his thick clothing. Connecting the dots, the mercenary could only smile amused. “Who could think that tickling would protect me from captain Gepard himself?”

“S-shuhut up, you- ahAHa, s-stop this ahahalready!’ The blonde said, throwing his head back as a strangled fit of giggles left his lips, which were already cracking up into a bright, adorable smile. 

“Oh, captain, I’d love to,” Sampo hummed pleased, tickling Gepard’s torso with ease, even through his attempts to block him, “but you didn’t want to collaborate when I asked you before, so it seems I need to make my request more… appealing to you, general, sir ~” 

Gepard’s cheeks were getting redder and redder and laughter was managing to slip out of his mouth like a fountain. It was so… ridiculous! He tried to push the mercenary already, break free from his hold, but each stroke against his sides seemed to make him go weaker and weaker.

“AhaHAhah, enohohough!! S-Sahahampo!” Gepard giggled, unable to hold back the fit of laughter any further when the other man lowered his hand and started pinching his waist, holding it firmly while his thumb rubbed deep ticklish circles in a horrible slow motion.

Amused with the guard’s reaction, Sampo started to lower his guard as well, stopping the constant checking on how his client was doing and focusing all his attention on the giggly captain he had at his hands. “Oh, captain, sir, what a lovely way to use my name,” he teased, moving his hand around as he poked Gepard’s stomach, “it’s so different from the tone you use when you are chasing me ~”

The captain stomped his foot, trying to turn his body away from the devious hand that kept the ticklish onslaught going. Sampo definitely was crossing all the boundaries of their relationship - that shameless bastard… if only Gepard could get his hands on him.

“Y-yohohou will pahAHhay fohohor this!” He roared, but his angry facade crumbled in a matter of seconds, turning into an adorable, harmless smile. 

“Oh, please, I’m not even going that hard on you, captain,” the mercenary said, leaning his face a little closer, nuzzling against Gepard’s cheeks despite the captain’s attempts to avoid him. “You are not even trying to escape anymore… Do you enjoy this kind of attention, sir? ~”

Those words made Gepard’s heart race, beating so fast that it could be heard even through the metal plates on his clothes. He gritted his teeth, turning his face away as it burned bright with embarrassment, not answering the mercenary. Of course, that also didn’t go unnoticed.

“My my, is this one of the secrets you hide behind your armors, captain?” Sampo whispered, hearing the blonde whine as he still refused to answer his questions, revealing an adorable stubbornness.

As Gepard’s laughter continued to flow freely, Sampo insisted on the topic, one question after the other, trying to get that confession from the captain. Still, he was answered with nothing but silence - well, not exactly silence since Gepard couldn’t stop giggling all the time, but - ah, you get it, right?

“Cat got your tongue, captain, sir?” Sampo mused, nuzzling the tip of his nose against Gepard’s trembling jaw line, making the guard try to scrunch up his shoulders to protect himself. “Guess I’ll have to tick-”

“Sampo!” A distant voice called for them - or, perhaps, was finally heard through the captain’s laughter. “I got it, let’s go!”

“What a shame… since timing is not on our side today, captain…” The mercenary said, kissing Gepard’s cheek before pushing himself away, letting the captain fall on his butt. “Until next time, sir.” Sampo said with a clear hint of affection in his voice, bowing as if it was some kind of curtain call.

“A-ah, stop… right there!” Gepard said, getting on his knees as he tried to get back up, “I-I’m not done with y-you!”

His empty threats, however, fell on deaf ears as the mercenary smiled, walking away before disappearing from his sight. With his heart still beating fast and cheeks tainted in red, Gepard stood up, patting his clothes to get rid of the dust and fix them. “That bastard…,” he muttered to himself, looking to the direction Sampo just went, but deciding to not follow it this time, “I guess… I could just say he got away,” he continued, slowly making his way back to the Administrative District while trying to process what in the name of Qlipoth just happened…

[turretistrying]

The Caged Bird and the Chased Mouse

Chapter 1: The Bird Gains Company

What happens to a poor isekai’d player when they forgot to play the Sumeru Main Quests before being transported into the wonderful world of Tevyat, only to be chased down for being a supposed ‘Imposter’? Well they end up in Sumeru with next to no idea of what’s to come next or what to expect and ends up with youngest of the Archons.

A/N: woah you guys seemed to like the,,, lets call it the prologue,, despite me not being a huge writer ehe! That prologue got more than most of my art (which you should check out heheh self-promotion) BTW: Nahida isnt a yandere, it might come off as so, its not supposed to. No matter how old she may be in canon she looks like a baby and is my baby that I will protect.

No warnings this part!

Nahida was surprised when she saw someone who wasn’t a Sage or related coming into the sanctuary.

Before the mysterious person came in she was simply taking a nap to escape her true reality of being contained in her prison, not expecting anyone to come through that day as the sages were needed elsewhere for what they seemed to be planning. The creak of the door woke her from her soft slumber to look at the commotion, it was a figure dressed in a dark cloak that covered almost everything but their footwear. It looked like they were in a rush and exhausted, gasping for air as they pushed their whole body against the door to close it as soon as possible. Then came what Nahida assumed was the guards trying to get in but didn’t seem to be able to get through.

The person turned around and looked up, locking eyes with Nahida. She was taken aback with how… Familiar, the person was, as if she knew them already, similar to have she felt when thinking of Rukkadevata. Nahida was unwilling to break eye contact, as if she broke it they would disappear.

They slowly made their way to the middle, apprehensive but concerned. When they got to the middle they climbed over the flower structure and stood up, reaching their hand up to Nahida. She took a second to understand but eventually pressed her own small hand to the floor of the cage, even thought they couldn’t touch each other because of the height and the prison, they both felt comforted by the gesture.

They lowered their arm and started to lower their whole body to sit down. Once sat down they stretched and laid down despite the odd shape of the flower. Nahida kept her hand on the floor, and watched them.

She knew whatever was keeping the door closed wasn’t going to last, and she didn’t want you to be taken away and likely imprisoned, like her…

Nahida whispered to your exhausted body “Everything will be okay, I’ll make sure of it.”

Your eyes closed.

As you fell asleep Nahida reached out, with her minuscule amount of power she had, to your unconscious body. The green chains slowly and gently wrapped around your body, with it flickering in and out of existence as each moment passed. She was exerting herself to bring you into her prison, at least she’d be able to protect you and make sure the sages don’t do anything to you while you were in it. You were getting closer and closer to the walls, and eventually, started to phase into it, with the chains dissipating into green pixels when their job was done. Nahida pulled you the rest of the way in, and collapsed on your body, her head lying on your chest.

She was so incredibly tired from that feat, and wanted to truly sleep and not just nap. She wrapped her arms around you and dozed off.

Your arms wrapped around her in your sleep.

Two lonely beings, comforted by each other.

The Archon of Wisdom and The Creator.

The caged bird and the poor poor chased mouse.

————————————————————————-

Out side the door, dozen of guards stand confused. Vines and flowers have twisted and twined together, blocking the door entirely making it next to impossible to get in without use of an axe. Seeming growing out of nowhere with no time at all.

_________________________________

Hey! How’d you like this technically first chapter? I know it’s shorter than the first I did, but I wanted it entirely in 3rd person and not have to swap and disrupt the flow of things ya’know?

As I said at the top, this is a platonic thing, please please PLEASE for the love of god don’t interpret this as romantic. I will disclose if something is ‘romantic’ (but like the SAGAU au is infamous for it’s yanderes so take that with a grain of salt) and this isnt it, the children are pure because they are my babies. ESPECIALLY Nahida.

If your name is crossed out then it means I couldn’t tag you im sorry :(

Taglist: @no-name-omo @moosieman123456

[ye-it-is-skeet]

I found some poses on Pinterest and you can guess what happened✨ Also taking this time to show the full-body full-designs of the teetlez+Usagi✨ And to talk about the designs and choices that were made. Also behind them is basically the shapes I imagined as I drew them all

<Info-Dumping Zone>

Leo- The most I can say about his design is like.. He wears wrappings either to have support for his wrists or just because. I have sketches of all their masks from behind but Leo's is based on, when I looked up traditional ninja designs, and saw a ninja with a warrior man-bun type deal so ye✨

Raph- His rough and "spiky" look is more just to show his aggressive demeanor most of the time. At first I just added the armor because I saw some ninja outfits where they wore armor (mostly on their shins and forearms), but after drawing this I realized it can be good for ramming into people and having that protection. Also the instant I finished designing him I knew I wanted him to be DARK, and I am OBSESSED with how dark he is✨ Also the short mask tails are because I see so many ppl giving Rise Raph specifically his tails tied to a bow so ye. Also it wasn't just a pentagon, it's more that I just thought about polygons.

Donnie- I actually designed Donnie first, because he's my favorite, heheh✨ His design is simple, I wanna talk more about his Bo-Staff. As I drew this I just made this area that stuck out from the staff where the wrap is, and it reminded me of those pencil grips. So now it's that Donnie doesn't like holding the rough staff for too long and has that little area to give his hands a break as he continues to fight. The armor on his shins I do not yet have an explanation for. Maybe it's so his kicks can hurt more.

Mikey- Again, simple design. When I designed him I wanted him to look round and a lil chubby maybe~✨ Quick tip: if he doesn't look baby then you drew him wrong.

Usagi- For the most part I just did my own thing, the outfit design, more specifically how the blue cloth bits are designed, were entirely based on how @okumura-senseixxx draws Usagi (love how they did it✨, obviously). Using that design because I wanted Usagi to look pretty, and that design of clothing is very pretty✨ Other than that it's a matter of just flipping Usagi's hair because trust me it doesn't look good any other way. I didn't think heart when designing Usagi, but when I think of Usagi I think "heart" so ye.

Teetlez- I am thinking of doing one of those "art study" sheets for my teetlez and characters if you guys ever want, I'll just do a mini worded version for now since I'll be working on something else. Overall their bodies are based on the first concept designs of my "Turtlier" Teetlez which was the Rise Boys just.. "Turtlier". Those designs changed but I loved the body type and used it here✨ The beaks are personally a must✨ I find it more interesting to draw beaks than normal mouths for the teetlez✨ The tails are also just a personal must, I just like them✨ Took a while to figure how I'd draw the individual pieces of their outfits, I thought doing brown or grey (ew) but both matched Raph's red in greyscale so it would never work. Then I looked back at my sketched design of Donnie and noticed to differentiate the pieces of clothing I had shaded his arm and leg bits. ✨Lightbulb✨ Just make the other pieces darker variations of the main color✨

I have a lot of information that I'm still trying to hash out, so ye✨

References (if it's important at all, from Pinterest except the nunchaku one, google):

[shady-scripter]

Zag and Achilles bonding?? Father and son?? The lights of my life??

Also zag teasing Achilles about his husbannndddd heheh

The River Styx Promise

(I know you sent this a while a while ago, but I just had an idea for them so it’s here now😌)

Everytime he looked at him, he remembered that he had a son. A son that never knew his father. He was a father that will never know his son.

Maybe Zagreus knew that. Maybe it was the way he talked to him or the way he never went fully onto Zagreus when he was teaching him.

After all, he was Aristos Achaion, Greatest of the Greeks. He was the strongest of his generation. He didn’t want to hurt Zagreus.

Achilles, son of Peleus and the nymph Thetis. Known for his famous rage. Known for dragging a corpse around the walls it should have been buried or burned in.

Achilles, the man who’s hubris cost him the love of his life. Achilles, lover of Patroclus. Achilles, father of Neoptolemus. Achilles, mentor of the son of Hades.

He didn’t have his spear with him this time. Zagreus had found the twin fists, Malphon. They were essentially gloves, so he thought that him wielding a long ranged weapon wouldn’t truly be a good way of training.

Zagreus moved with a precision like his own. Though, unlike Achilles, who’s battle prowess came from how nimble he was, Zagreus’s strength was in his arms.

Achilles didn’t finish training untouched. Zagreus had gotten a few good hits in, creating dark purple blotches on his form.

While Zagreus caught his breath, Achilles took off his cape and shirt, leaving him with only his bottom. Zagreus had paused then.

“You have bruises?” The question came out as if the boy was quizzing him. “I thought…”

“You’re right, lad. Shades shouldn’t bruise. However, I am, more or less, closer to being alive than most shades,” Achilles said, taking a seat on the floor next to the Prince.

Zagreus’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at his water. “Is something wrong?” Achilles tried his best to study him.

“I will get you back together.”

Achilles gulped. “My Prince, you shouldn’t meddle with-“

“I promise-“

“Lad?”

“-on the-“ Achilles covered his mouth so fast, a loud smack echoed off the walls. Zagreus groaned under Achilles’s hand.

“Do not ever promise anything on the Styx!” His voice rose louder than it has in a while. “Or you will curse yourself!”

Zagreus shoved his mentor’s hand away. “I mean it!”

“We mean a lot of things!” Memories of holding a hand on top of a mountain, staring off into the sunset, flashed behind the shade’s vision. A memory of a promise. A promise that put them both in this mess in the first place. “But we can’t keep every promise we make. No matter how much you wish you could, some things just won’t happen. The fates do not ordain them.”

Zagreus hugged his knees, pulling them to his chest. “What was it?”

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“What did you promise?”

A breath caught in Achilles’s throat. He let out a dry laugh and looked down at the colorful tiles that created a picture on the floor. A picture depicting a skull that looked to be screaming.

“I was a kid. Seventeen, I think. I’m not sure, but I was still training with Chiron on Pelion.” Achilles sighed, the centaurs form passed in his mind. “It was there that I promised Patroclus that I would marry him.” He let out a dry laugh. “I told him that I would live happy with him in the end. I thought I would.”

Achilles turned to face Zagreus, a look of worry on his face. “Zagreus, my prince, please know this. They never let you be famous and happy. Something always happens to heroes. I should have known that I would be no different.”

“I don’t want to be a hero. I want to find my mother.” Zagreus huffed.

“You don’t sound that way. You free Orpheus, reunite him with his love. Now you try the same with me. You must focus on your mother, not those around you.”

“I just want to help.”

“So did Theseus.”

“Do not compare me to that guy!” Achilles laughed. A real laugh. Zagreus joined, but died down soon enough.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Zagreus nearly whispered. Achilles patted his shoulder.

“It’s fine.” He hummed and stood on his feet. “How about we resume practice?” Achilles held out his hand. Zagreus smiled and put the twin fists back on. Then he took his mentor’s hand.

“You’re on.”

[loaflovesdoodling]

"Just keep walking straight, we're almost there." Fylass instructed, accompanying Ades through the long corridor.

"Just hope I don't slam my face into something, hahaha." He joked, slightly nervous and confused.

They proceeded to walk for another thirty seconds or so, before the kid finally stopped him:

"Okay, you can take your blindfold off on the count of three. One... Two.... Three!!" They called gleefully. Pleiades untied the cloth, blinked a few times, and soon enough his eyes lit up with shining star bits and his jaw dropped in shock and surprise.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

"..H-HOW...."

"Hehehe, Blossom told Dolly and the others! She really wanted them to know, and they decided to organize a super-duper-secret-silly party!! Happy birthday!!!!!"

"Oh, yeah, there's also cake, of course. Come on, pull the ribbon!!" TK cheered, taking a hold of his big brother's hand, dragging him over to the party table, on which lied a flimsy cardboard box. Pleiades did as he was told, and, soon after, the box opened to reveal a beautiful dark chocolate cake.

"Before you ask any more questions; yes, we did find your sneakily hidden 100% cocoa bar in the back of your cupboard. I always knew you were a glutton for bitter stuff, but... wow." Selene called him out mockingly, his face contracted in a humiliated expression.

"I art sorry I hathn't found anything that strong for thee, I hope thee wilt still enjoy this cake in it's sweetness--"

"Are you kidding?! Dero, I didn't even expect anyone to know when my birthday was, let alone a birthday party and cake!!" Ades cut him off, surprised by his words.

"Alrighty, Mister Secret. Only one more thing before you dig in, be patient." Twilight teased him as they handed him a... letter?

He opened it, and started reading out loud:

"We know you may not know how special this day really is, you've probably done this thousands of times. But this is the first time we get to live it together, so let us thank you for everything you've done for us.

Thank you for always showing your support for me, defending me from my father, putting your own safety at risk.

Thank you for playing with Dolly and letting her show you every little thing, making sure she never felt alone anymore.

Thank thou for always offering a shoulder to cry on, and having my back at even the darkest of times.

Thank you for helping me reach the stars, comforting me every step of the way, drawing your sword just to protect me.

Thank you for being my brother, for holding my hand tight as I fought all my fears, never leaving my side, no matter what.

Thank you for being with us. Happy Birthday, Sir Pleiades."

As he finished reading the letter, he took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he tucked the letter away in his cape, trying to wipe away tears with his paw before they could start dropping down. The others wrapped him in an affectionate embrace, and, as he finally gave in and accepted the hug, he somehow also felt the vague presence of another soul...

"Happy Birthday, Pleiades."

Fylass belongs to @george228732

Dolly belongs to @ilikesillythingswooo

Twilight Knight belongs to @that-fanperson-meg

Dero belongs to @monsterhatdoodles

Selene belongs to @moon-mage

[bighandsforabigheart]

Hello~ :3...I need hurt!Solo fic recs 🥺🥺🥺 the darker the better hehehe. Thanks~✨ and love your art!🩷🩷

Thank you!!

Took me a while to go through (reread) my bookmarks lol

Here are my faves, some are physical hurt and others emotional:

Earning Freedom by Dagger_Stiletto

The CIA takes Napoleon back, and he suffers. Oh how he suffers. If there is a chance he can escape, or at the very least clear his name, he does all he can to feed UNCLE the information he can. But on his last mission, his time might be up.

Needs Must When The Devil Drives by ZealouslyQuixotic

When it boiled down to the bare elements, Napoleon had always lacked the ability to treat serious things with the respect they deserved, and Illya was nothing if not serious. A serious person and a serious relationship right from their stumbled attempts at friendship through to the nebulous lines surrounding loyalty, lust, love. He had never known where they stood because he refused to quantify his own emotions. How could he begin to comprehend Illya’s when he was so far in denial about the sheer extent of his own? He had wasted years in that same manner; denying, joking, maintaining a front of shallow interest, of want founded solely in carnal gratification. His time had long since run out and now all he had was an undeserved sacrifice, a cracked veneer, and a paraphrased line from a 17th century poem. "Had I but world enough, and time." Damning last words of regret and forgiveness.

Provenance by cactusonastair

Napoleon Solo is in love with Illya Kuryakin. He knows it. Gaby knows it. Illya presumably does not know it, otherwise Napoleon would be dead. It's not just Illya's rejection Napoleon fears. The CIA and KGB would never brook their top agents canoodling with each other. And who the hell knows what Waverly will think. No, it's better for all concerned that he keeps his mouth firmly shut. Then a mission unexpectedly unravels, things spiral out of Napoleon's control, and all his best resolutions turn to dust.

And I Was The Boy Who Was Lucky by Chamel

Napoleon was, on the other hand, of course prepared for the weather. He’d acquired a bright new seersucker suit that he wore like he’d dressed in the quintessentially southern fabric since he was a child. The pale blue stripes brought out the blue of his eyes, even from across the covered deck. Not that Illya had told him such a thing, because, for one, he was sure Napoleon already knew and had in fact planned it that way, and for two, as much as he secretly enjoyed watching his partner preen under his praise, the last thing he needed was Napoleon getting any ideas about Illya’s feelings. Because there was nothing to get ideas about, truly.

Silver to Lead by Elri

Napoleon Solo has been cursed for a long time, but it never mattered before so why bring it up? Of course, now things aren't the same as they were before.

And if you're okay with gallya ← solo unrequited love

The Show Must Go On by Ingu

It’s not that you don’t think about dying. You know with a clear certainty that yes, it may well kill you. But the part where your mind trips over itself is in the possibility, the uncertainty behind an inevitable eventuality. Yes, it might all end terribly, just maybe not today.

I'm sure I'm missing some of the darker ones (can't read them more than once) so if I come by more I'll add them

[silentwonderlocks]

Need A Hand Stranger? - RE4 Merchant x Male! Reader- One Shot

“Just a little further” a man muttered under his breath as he ran forward throughout the island’s laboratory, a young woman trailing close behind. It was like his mantra for the past day or so, it was supposed to be a simple recuse mission that turned into cult madness. It was no matter to dwell on since the cult had underestimated who The President of the United States had sent to get his daughter back. That man was Raccoon City survivor Leon S Kennedy, a once bright eyed rookie now a hardened government agent. This mission had been a nightmare to deal with, it was anything worse than he knew from that traumatic night. Brainwashed villagers, lake monsters, invisible bugs, royal nutjobs,a power-hungry old comrade, an old flame and more.Leon could imagine all of the paperwork he would have to write down after he returned Ashley home.

 Not wasn’t the time for thinking about the future yet, not when he had gotten out with her first, thankfully there was a familiar indigo flame up head. Illuminating the small area with its standing torch was a metal door. Inside what seemed to be a storage room was the trusted Merchant, who stood behind a small wooden table reaching to his waist, perfect for laying out weapons or treasures to eye. The Merchant dressed in the only attire Leon had seen, a long navy blue cloak with a hood that covered his body. No doubt various amounts of ammos and weapons underneath. A purple bandana with white line pattern was tightly kept around his face only revealing his eyes. Eyes that Leon swore glimmered orange in the light sometimes. Upon his back was a traveling pack filled with supplies to take him where he was needed next.

The Merchant was a strange man but one that Leon greatly accepted as a welcomed help. Leon never questioned who or what the Merchant was or his purpose for helping, he felt like he didn’t need to since the merchant was the only man who seemed to be in his right mind. Leon was curious though, what did he get out of this? The little side requests, the treasures obtained, how the Merchant seemed to be in places before Leon even knew he was meant to be there. It didn’t make sense to him, then again it wasn’t his job to ask. It was his job to get Ashley home safe and alive. You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right? The unnamed man seemed to perk up, waving his hand up in a welcome gesture.

 “Good to see you’re still pumping full of blood and bullets stranger” Leon walks up to the table taking a moment to rest his gun on it and gives a tired smile towards the man. Ashley meanwhile took a seat on a wooden crate to catch her breath.

“Heh..thanks. Listen, I know I'm gonna be dealing with the head nutcase here soon. I need my knife repaired and my magnum tuned up please. I have the funds to cover it.” Without another thought, Leon pulls out from his pocket: an ornate necklace filled with gemstones slotted beautifully together. Leon places the necklace down on the table. The colors purple, gold, blue and green shine as he adds a handful of various sizes of gold coins next to it. 

“Heheh thank you.” The merchant chuckles, deeply pleased with the trade offer in hand. He makes quick work of repairing Leon’s knife and tuning up his magnum. 

 “Here stranger, should keep you alive a little while longer.” Leon nods his thanks to the man before nodding towards Ashley that they are leaving. The agent heads back to the door, his escort by his side, Leon pauses turning back around to the Merchant. He knew this would be the last time that they would see each other again so, it seemed like the proper time.

“Thank you for everything.” Then just as quickly as the duo arrived, they wasted no time in leaving to go deal with whoever was left in their way.

Left in his own silence once more, The merchant lets out a tired sigh rolling his shoulders. It had been a couple of exhausting days, moving from location to location making sure his persistent customer had everything he needed to carry on with the battle. Now his job was done, time to take his profits and take his own leave. The merchant took the next few minutes putting out the torch and collecting all the valuables around. Distant gunshots could be heard from his spot making the merchant half smile underneath his cover. He wished Leon luck and hoped that he would put an end to all of this madness. That was his cue to get things moving along.

The laboratory’s hallway was dimly lit and smelled of dried blood with the lovely hint of chemicals. Bodies ruined by Leon and his guns laid strewn about, dark blood splatter nearly everywhere. Thankfully no one seemed to be left alive so it would be an easy way out to his hidden boat, all he needed to do was escape. The merchant walks swiftly even with the heavy luggage on his back heading through the metal double door. 

Once inside he sees a room filled with heavy medical equipment he does not understand, he sees an unconscious man out in a big chair. Said chair had arching pods that pointed downwards on towards the man’s chest and stomach. Whatever this machine was, it seemed to have recently performed a surgery on the man. The merchant hums in thought inwardly fighting whether or not to leave the man here to his own fate or save him. He walks up to the chair raising his hand to shake the person slightly earning a small incoherent mumble. A firm shake this time results in a more understandable answer.

“Leave me ugh…alone… 5 more minutes.”

“I'm afraid we don't have 5 minutes. Get up unless you wanna have the whole island blowing up with you on it.” 

That seems to jolt awake the man who wobbles to his feet, but his body doesn’t hold him up for longer. His knees buckle making the man collapse into the merchant who catches him with an exasperated grunt. The man blinks trying to gather his bearings, then pushes himself off of the merchant with a faint blush. He notices that the man is well dressed, in a plain shirt with a leather jacket, form fitting pants and combat boots. Not a soldier, a scientist or a victim? The man whips his head around rushing to grab a backpack that jingles a sweet song the merchant knows too well.

“Shit… I.. Who are you?”

“Heheh later for now we must move.” He responds by pushing the man forward to a side door in the room. 

“ Come before we run into any unwanted guests of ours.” The man seems to understand the situation and follows without another word. The few minutes are spent cautiously moving throughout the laboratory reaching the lower levels of the island. It’s only then does the merchant begin to speak.

“So stranger you mind telling me why I found you passed on in that lab?”

The man huffs, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. “You mind telling me who you are?”

“Why I am a lowly merchant who goes around making his profit.” The merchant’s playfully tone was nice to see and hear but it didn’t satisfy the man.

“So does this lowly merchant have a name?” The man asked, mimicking the merchant’s tone.

Huh, even the blonde agent didn’t seem to ask for his name. Not that he cared, the merchant knew the urgent matters at hand. He wouldn’t let that info slip so easily though. “Maybe I do, maybe I don't. If you have something valuable, maybe I'll give you my name.”

The slightly shorter man smirked, pulling a golden crown suited for a king, there were five pristine gemstones all different colors.  He waves it before handing it fully to the merchant who inspects it closely before slipping the crown into his pack.

“Anthony, stranger.”

“My name is ______ Now we’re not strangers anymore.”

[millaaster]

Love Takes Time - Koisuru Boukun

Pairing: Morinaga Tetsuhiro x Tatsumi Souichi

Summary: Morinaga comes home from work to visit Tatsumi, as usual, but he wants to make sure they're more than physical, for his senpai to really trust and be comfortable around him!

Words: 1745

CW: SFW; Fluff; Domestic Fluff.

AN: Soooo...this was my first fic written quite a while ago and I'm finally motivated to get back to writing, so I'm starting things over on Tumblr by reposting this! Enjoy babes. I JUST WANTED THEM TO BE CUTE YOUR HONOR!

Please, do not repost or translate.

MORINAGA finally had a chance to travel home after finishing his work ahead of time as he started his vacation period. After going out to eat with his senpai, they came back – this time to the new apartment he had moved into.

As Tatsumi took a shower, Morinaga was taken by thoughts, alone in the kitchen. AsSouichi opened the door, he was startled at finding that figure standing there – both because of how handsome he knew Morinaga was (and not seeing him as regularly as before gave it a whole new effect on him) and because of the serious look in his face. Did he do something to hurt him without realizing it?

After a few seconds of looking at each other, Morinaga seemed to come back to himself. Looking down and smiling tenderly, he started:

“Senpai, as time passes, I’ve been thinking more about what kind of life I see myself having in the future. I believe I’ve made it clear by now that of course you’re a part of it, no matter what”.

Tatsumi was slightly worried as he didn’t know in which direction that conversation was leading.

Morinaga continued:

“You know I’m the happiest just by being the one that comes back to you when returning home, but…I want to be the closest to you, senpai. And I want you to feel comfortable when you’re with me as well”.

Tatsumi was dumbstruck. It was true there were some barriers between them. He felt a clench in his heart by thinking it was probably mainly because of his own “self-defense mode” - although Morinaga had his share too.

“Senpai, we’ve known each other for quite a while and been in a relationship for some time too. So…I’ve made a resolution”. He had a smile on his lips and watched Tatsumi warmly. “I’m not holding back any longer”.

“...Wha-!?!” Tatsumi considered whether he should flee out through the door and run away while he still had a chance, but he continued to listen.

“Hehehe. Don’t worry, that’s not exactly what I mean!” And with a satisfied look: “From now on I’m doing all the things couples do with you senpai – and I decided to take the initiative as it was impossible you’d do it...”.

He got closer to his wary senpai and took his hand.

“You know, I really miss you when I’m away. I really want to hug you; to feel your hair and your warmth; I want to kiss you and cherish you. I’m going to do it all as my heart tells me; even if you hit me, I’ll be diligent!”.

“What is this idiot talking about?” thought Tatsumi.

“I’ll take my time, though. I’ll let you slowly get used to it”. And with that, he pulled his senpai closer and softly kissed his forehead, leaving to his room and then to the bathroom for a shower, in high spirits the rest of the night.

Tatsumi’s mind was blanked out. As soon as he put himself together, he ran and locked himself inside his room.

* * *

In the morning, Tatsumi, still sleepy, forgot about what happened for a minute, being instantly reminded by a:

“Good morning, senpai~ ♥”.

“Mornin...” he replied, squinting his eyes suspiciously in the direction he was standing in. Throughout the day he would avoid getting too close to Morinaga, almost keeping an imaginary safety zone. When he realized how the guy had a grin every time he noticed that behavior, he even considered whether he said that just to mess around with him. Still, he didn’t let his guard down.

Tetsuhiro had a clear strategy in his head though. So that it wouldn’t end up being even worse, he was willing to make use of all of his self-control. To begin with, every three days he would try some sort of skinship and, wherever he had a chance, he would make questions about things he wanted to know regarding his senpai – that also helped them to engage in general conversations, rather than keeping it physical.

He was conscious that, although they had changed so much until then, he had to be a little more mature towards their life together; he couldn’t let his selfish desires lead him on. He truly wanted to establish a genuine bond with Souichi. This time, he had a week of vacation; it would be enough for giving it a try and, after that, he could approach him every time he came home.

At first, when his senpai was a little more relaxed, he would give him a good morning back hug. Morinaga was, indeed, hit by an angry Tatsumi – who did feel flustered inside. During breakfast, when pouring him coffee, he would give him a soft peck on the cheek with an “Enjoy your food~”.

As he expected himself, he wasn’t all that strong, and sometimes, taken by lust, he crossed that line and took Tatsumi to bed in a hurried sequence of actions.

Morinaga also sat purposefully close to him at night if he was around reading or working in the living room. He bumped his feet on his senpai’s and caressed them lightly before he stood up and left, cursing. At this point, at least, he wasn’t as violent, limited to the use of some heavy vocabulary to express his indignation.

Although Tatsumi was having a hard time, as all that felt more teasing than bonding, he also sensed he was less and less bothered by Tetsuhiro’s caring attacks. He was aware the guy wasn’t going to stop and, furthermore, that his feelings weren’t fake, it was just...he had a different way of showing affection. But, if he was supposed to keep his word and accept Morinaga that way, maybe consolidating proper communication was the most important thing to do. Both of them had strong personalities and, in order to work it out, the two of them would have to adapt and give up some things every once in a while.

Even with those thoughts in mind, a few days later, when Morinaga tried holding his hand when they were waiting for the meal to finish cooking, he felt his face burning hot and quickly escaped.

* * *

On a Friday night, Morinaga was traveling back to the apartment to stay for the weekend, when he got a message from Tatsumi:

We had a setback at the lab

I’ll be a little late, sorry

You can just get in first

Back on the campus, Souichi’s research experiment went wrong and they lost about two months of work from that set. After trying to find the problem and solve it, he and his exhausted helpers called it a day and left. On his way home, all the mad anger felt earlier had already turned into frustration, and the exhaustion in his body made it even harder on him.

Even though it was late, when he entered he found Morinaga awake, watching something on the TV, and a bowl of soup waiting for him over the table. He greeted:

“I’m home”.

“Oh, welcome home, senpai. Though I should be the one saying your line”, Morinaga replied with a soft laugh.

“Ah, right. How was the trip? You should have gone to bed; you must be tired”.

“No, it’s fine; I thought I’d wait for you”. And realizing his tired expression “By the way, what happened in the lab? Is everything alright?”

Morinaga listened to the explanation as Tatsumi sat down and ate.

“Senpai, I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something to help”.

“...Yeah...it’s okay. It is very unfortunate, but I guess that’s part of an experiment, isn’t it?”

He wondered if Tetsuhiro was still working there it would have happened differently. He was good at noticing details he sometimes left behind.

“Senpai, you’re the one who should head over to the shower and then take some rest. I’ll take care of the dishes, so don’t worry”.

He did need that to deny it, so he simply complied and said a quiet “Okay, thank you”.

After finishing with the few dishes, Morinaga went back to the sofa, since he was a little curious about how the show ended. In the meantime, Tatsumi came out of the bathroom in his pajamas.

“Hey, you’re still watching it?”

“Ah yeah. It’s kind of interesting, actually”.

He went over and sat by his side. He was very close and Morinaga felt his knee touching Souichi’s leg. He was surprised but happy. Right then, he turned slightly towards him and noticed his senpai’s sight was pointing down, distracted. He knew how dedicated he was to his work so that day must have been really rough. Morinaga reached out and held his hand. Tatsumi startled and frowned for a bit, then he hesitated, but stayed still like that. He fondled his senpai’s hand and felt him tighten the grip between them.

Tetsuhiro smiled; that’s what he wanted, to be someone to be relied on by the one he loved. He snuggled closer and watched as Souichi moved his face almost as if placing it on his shoulder. They stayed there silent, only enveloped by the white noise coming from the screen in front of them.

About half an hour later, Souichi dozed out, using Morinaga as a pillow. He looked down to catch a glimpse of one of the most precious things he had ever seen. He carefully turned off the TV and carried him to his room. He covered him and was about to leave…but he couldn’t let that chance go to waste. He laid by his side, cuddling him and setting his head at Souchi’s nape, feeling the soft hair brush against his nose as he fell asleep.

* * *

When he woke up, Tatsumi took a second to notice another body was close to his own and gasped at the arms holding him. He then remembered what came about last night, calculating what he should do now.

But...but...that heat was so cozy...he had no reason to get away from there. He could just pretend he was still sleeping and enjoy it a little more. He was happy that, after all, Morinaga had put so much effort to help him learn how much he could like this kind of thing.

Meanwhile, Morinaga, who was awake all the time, did his best so Souichi wouldn’t notice. When he leaned back again into his chest, relieved, he tightened his embrace, pretending it was out of reflex.

Interactions are always appreciated ☆* have a lovely day!

Ao3

[entheundead]

"'The only winning move is not to play'. That's all they say, but with Her, it's not so easy to not play. Whether you succeed in your life, or fail, it matters not for She still gains from it. Even Her death, plenty of a thing that is, only helps Her and whatever She has in store. Not even the goddess of plans rivals Her. Kill Her for eternity or for an aeon, you are doing what She planned for you to do. The only way to win... Is not exist. Pray and beg to the deity of Nothing to make you part of them, youngster, for that is a slight hope. One that She is slowly grasping and removing.

Tell me, child, how many gods do you pray to? As for me, I pray to all of them, daily. Worship is quite a work, much time spent I learnt what they personally like. I use it to gain favours. Only to realise that I'm becoming like Her. She does good, I will not and cannot lie about that, but that good is not as kind as we all wish it was.

She isn't fond of debts involving material things like money. She prefers favours. She does good for all and ALL are forced by their own minds to repay that kindness back to Her. Some have it worse than others.

I wanted to have glory as many do. I wanted power, fame and to be remembered by everyone! As young as you, lad, I chanted Her name and I squalled with everything I had, I screamed out my desires to Her. How I craved for nothing more than to be remembered and cared for and how I did not care for the cost, the consequence, for the sanity of those around me or my very own, I was prepared to give it all to Her if it meant I could feel... If I could... Then She appeared before me, faster than a blink of my eyes, in fact, I was too angry to blink or close my eyes. She just was there. Moments later I realised I took her hands, they felt soft and smooth, calluses all over. She held my hands tightly. Like a mother to her child, like a warrior to his blade, like me to a gander's neck.

Hehehe.

All She spoke to me was, and I remember this really well, she said 'You'll attain your heart's desires for I am now in your service.' And, oh, that voice, as if I was a sailor stumbling across a siren's song, how the voice spoke to my soul, I felt how my ears clung onto that tune and would rather have everything be destroyed than to let that melody fade away from my mind.

And, child, that's what happened. I became a warrior, She taught me as She's done plenty. I learned how to wield all weapons, learned about all my enemies, all ways to slaughter my foes. Those battles were the glory I sought after. But with each moment I was about to swing my blade, I felt Her. Her touching and moving my body: nudged my feet, grabbed the leg and threw it forward! Hands on the blade, arm, shoulder, back, everything, every single part of me going towards the swing. The sound of blades clinking, their sword moved aside as mine grew closer and closer towards them, blam, through the neck.

Of course, She says there is no price and I, the naive young, believed Her. Then came the unspoken cost. An urge..... The urge to kill opponents that weren't just warriors on the battlefield, no, I craved blood of something more. I set out to kill leaders of nations: kings, emperors, whatever else. But She only let me kill those that weren't how She liked. I, of course, obliged Her demand as it's the first one She gave, so why not, you know? As well as She gave me so much already, I felt in debt to Her and I just had to do how She wanted just this once.

The leaders I killed, yes, they were, they were corrupt beings, ruining their own nations, killing peasants and the like for no reason other than entertainment. She did not like that, She wanted me to kill beings like those. I, still being fairly young, older than you, sure, but still young, asked Her why couldn't She just educate them like She is known to teach all regardless who one is. She taught me that Her very being is trapped in the minds of all and has no real power. Remember that, child, for that is still the case even after many decades later.

Once my killings are done for the corrupt leaders, I felt as if I should also kill corrupt people that weren't leaders, you know? Like guards, bullies and stuff. So I did that, still felt Her eerie touch on my body with each motion of this vessel.

Years went by, years, many, many years, lad, maybe even a decade of such slaughters I've done. She came with an ask. Asked me if I'd like to finally *repay* the debt I have. I thought that maybe it was already paid with all the lives I've taken. Seems not. My mistake it was, yes. Now, listen well, child, and listen carefully. She, The Goddess of knowledge, asked me to kill gods. 'Which gods?' I asked Her in such disbelief that I thought it was a joke, She does humor from time to time. But it was no joke, She told me 'Every. God. There. Is.'

Say, child, what do you think you would have done in my position? Accept what She asked and go god killing? Or decline? Neither is a good option, child.

I realised there and then I was an asset in Her goal to bring an age, an age of the godless as She calls it. I feared to know what would happen to me if I declined Her request, She is kind, yes, but when that kindness breaks and if it were to break I'd not be there to feel it. But I nonetheless did.

I killed gods, child, I grew up with things you have no knowledge of, that none have knowledge of besides Her and me. Gods weren't the only ones to die, kid, I wish they were the only ones I killed with these hands. Stained in the bloodshed of countless beings, I sicken myself. My family, my town, my nation wiped from reality as I slew gods. Had a pet, he didn't die, he vanished. Grief. She knew, She always knows.

I'd pray to the rest of the gods to not let you meet Her, but all the answers I'd get would be just them praying with me. Do not pique Her interest, traveler. I sit here before you, begging. Hear me, scholar of gods, do not research Her, show fear, show dread, show what we know to show. Once you catch a glimpse of Her, you'll know it is Her. It'll be it for you.

I'm sorry, child, for Her gain."