#that they're the greatest treasure of all

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Dragon/part dragon reader?

You casually take FL to your hoard, something seen as extremely personal and a great honor among dragons, only for him to discover you hoard soft things. The rest of the day is spent cuddling and napping in your hoard, you playing with his fluff while he admires your horns and tail. You snuggle up, purring together as you basically become his little furnace.

Just dumping my thoughts here. Idk I'm tired

-Awakward anon

hhehehehehhe dragons are so much fun they're like big scaly cats :)

unlike your fellow dragons and vishaps, who often spend their time collecting glimmering gemstones and piles of coins, you prefer to fill your little cavern with soft blankets and quilts, various pillows and a few plushies dotting the ground in colorful splotches. it's a bit of a challenge at times, with your ability to control fire and fabric's unfortunate habit of being very, very flammable, but you've still managed to accrue a sizable hoard of soft, comfortable objects for you to nest in. at least you don't have to fight off others of your kind to scrounge a few chunks of crystal- although, you'll admit that even you have a few sparkly trinkets peeking out here and there between the cotton and wool, mostly old chains and glittery rocks you've come across whenever you travel

your tail flicks happily back and forth when you show Foul Legacy your collection, eyes wide and pupils dilated as you await his approval, like any dragon would do for their beloved. Legacy chitters in utter delight making a beeline for a soft, fluffy blanket and carefully kneading his claws against it, curling up with a satisfied trill. you quickly join him, tail wrapping tightly around his body and wings folding against your back- you always preferred your humanoid form for snuggles, it's softer and warm and the perfect size for hugging. Legacy's rumble joins yours as you bump your foreheads together- tomorrow you'll make a nest together, full of comfy cushions and blankets and a few shiny objects for you to cuddle in, side by side, an Abyssal monster and a fierce dragon

[hamofjustice]

nemona feels like an obscure blorbo instead of the main rival character from the latest pokemon game because to get to her really good content from people who really get it, you first have to wade through the ocean of yandere pervert obsessive stalker annoying punchable bimbo amazon goddess interpretations of...

... a neurodivergent and possibly disabled high schooler who's desperately trying to make any friends or get any support from her rich neglectful family - while everyone in her school is jealous of their own imagined version of a privileged asshole version of her they made up - who deeply and platonically loves and supports the one new kid who agreed to take the time to get to know and respect her and her special interest without having to hold back her true self

unlike her, it's not great!

kinda feels like she has the same problem in our world that she does in hers.

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine, Dr Veritas Ratio (my pookie), Jing Yuan and Jiaoqiu with a really cozy lover who loves to make them cute food? Like they pack them little bento lunchboxes with cute designs and wake up super early to make it for them so they can take it to work, they take them out on picnics as a weekly date and stuff, maybe they're into crochet and crafts or something, sorry this is so self indulgent 😞 i just wanna make these boys something yummy, tis what i had in mind about the food omg this is so long im so sorry

(All art by @/eggbuttertoast on insta btw go check them out)

“You are the best thing, that ever happened to me”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Established Relationship, Romance, Fluff, Comfort, Picnic Dates, Domestic Moments, Caring Relationships.

A/N: DON'T WORRY!! I TOTALLY GET YOU!! 🤭 I'M OBSESSED WITH THOSE CUTE BENTO BOXES!! HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS!! 🫶💖

Aventurine was no stranger to indulgence. Life was a gamble, and he played it with style and cunning, always chasing the next high-stakes thrill. Yet, as he strolled into his office at the IPC’s Strategic Investment Department, today’s highlight wasn’t a lucrative deal or a cunning scheme—it was the bento box you had lovingly prepared for him.

You’d been up since dawn, crafting an intricate lunch. Inside the box were bite-sized sandwiches shaped like playing cards, each adorned with edible glitter and tiny suit symbols cut from vegetables. A roulette wheel of fruits sat in the center, with a gold-painted chocolate coin at its hub.

When Aventurine opened the box, his eyes lit up. "My, my," he murmured, admiring the effort. “You’ve truly outdone yourself, darling. How am I supposed to focus on work after such a masterpiece?”

He loved how you infused warmth into his otherwise calculated world. It wasn’t just the food but the care and thought you put into every detail. Every Friday, you insisted on a picnic, dragging him away from the chaos of his work.

Today, you’d set up a cozy spread under the shade of a towering tree. You crocheted a new blanket for the occasion, its patterns inspired by roulette wheels and peacock feathers—a nod to his unique style. Aventurine leaned back, his hat tilted over his eyes, a rare moment of vulnerability.

“You spoil me.” he said, watching you unpack.

“That’s the idea.” you teased, placing a cookie in his hand.

Aventurine smirked. For all his charisma and confidence, he found himself marveling at how you could make even a gambler like him feel safe, cherished, and loved.

Ratio had always prided himself on precision, intellect, and order. Yet, as he peered into the meticulously crafted bento box you had left on his desk, he couldn’t help but smile. The rice was shaped into an owl, its wings made from thinly sliced seaweed. Around it, neatly arranged vegetables and protein formed an edible diorama of his Intelligentsia Guild office.

When you greeted him later that evening, Ratio’s tone was teasing but fond. “Do you think a brilliant mind like mine requires sustenance shaped like birds to function?”

“Maybe not,” you replied, grinning. “But even geniuses deserve to feel loved.”

Ratio adjusted his glasses, feigning exasperation, but the warmth in his eyes betrayed him. Your weekly picnics were another tradition he secretly adored. He admired your crocheted blankets and little crafts, treasures you’d offer him with shy excitement.

Today’s picnic was at a quiet park, where you’d prepared another feast. As he lay beside you, Ratio spoke softly, breaking the silence. “You know,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically gentle, “you’ve done what even the greatest minds of the Guild could not—bring balance to my chaotic thoughts.”

Jing Yuan, the so-called "Dozing General," had a knack for finding peace amid the chaos of his duties. But nothing soothed him more than the love you poured into his bento boxes.

The moment he opened today’s lunch, a fond chuckle escaped his lips. A lion cub, shaped from rice and adorned with omelet details, stared back at him. Around it, a battlefield of sausages and broccoli seemed to depict one of his strategic victories.

When you picked him up for your weekly picnic, his eyes softened as he took in the sight of you carrying yet another crocheted blanket. This time, it bore a swirling pattern inspired by the Cloud Knights’ insignia.

You spread the blanket under the cherry blossoms, unpacking the food with care. Jing Yuan leaned back, his long hair catching the sunlight. “You’ve truly turned even a General’s life into a dream.” he murmured.

“Good,” you replied, nudging him. “Because you deserve every bit of it.”

Jiaoqiu couldn’t see your creations, but he could feel the care in every bite. Despite his blindness, he often remarked how your lunches seemed to brighten his world.

Today’s bento box was no exception. You’d spent hours crafting it—a flower garden of colorful ingredients, each carefully arranged. When Jiaoqiu ran his fingers over the edge of the box, he smiled.

“I can tell you woke up early for this.” he teased, his voice warm and melodic.

“Of course,” you said, guiding his hands to the first bite. “I want you to feel loved, even when I’m not there.”

Your weekly picnics were his favorite. Though he couldn’t see the landscapes, you described every detail—the way the sun dappled through the leaves, the soft hues of the sky. He sat beside you, tail swishing contentedly as you crocheted a new blanket.

“Another masterpiece?” he asked, running his fingers over the textured yarn.

You smiled. “I made it with you in mind.”

Jiaoqiu tilted his head, his golden irises sharp even as he kept his eyes closed. “And I carry it with me, just as I carry your love.”

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! I'm back with a (kinda late) spooky au! This is the monster-themed au that won the last poll, so here we go!

In this au, set in season 4 (post-Aithusa), where, after feeling Aithusa call to him from within her egg, Merlin could now sense dragon eggs.

Since dragons mated every year and laid multiple eggs each time, and there were only so many dragonlords around to hatch them, there were hundreds of dragon eggs hidden around Albion, waiting for a dragonlord to get close enough for them to call out to, yearning for the world outside of their shells. And since the dragonlords were nearly wiped out in the purge, those hundreds of eggs were still hidden, still waiting for a dragonlord to call them into life.

And now that Merlin can recognize their calls and knows how to call them forth them their eggs, he collects and hatches as many dragon eggs as he can, determined to bring the magical creatures back to their former glory.

And this goes fairly smoothly, except for one issue: he needs a place to hide all of them. They're all still so young, despite growing rather quickly, and the world is still hostile towards dragons, not seeing them as the majestic creatures of wonder that they are.

So, Merlin finds a hidden place for all of them to nest: an underground cave system beneath a mountain. It was near enough to Camelot that he could visit frequently, and the tunnels were large enough for all of them to have their own space, even as the number of baby dragons grew from five, to ten, to twenty, to well over seventy baby dragons took refuge inside the caves.

Aithusa was delighted by each new baby sibling Merlin brought to her in the caves, and she took care of them as best she could. (Kilgharrah, the rubbish babysitter, was not invited to the nests, as he would surely fill the babies' heads with all sort of nonsense about hating humans.)

And so, Merlin kept this up for well over a year, hatching dragons and bringing them to the nests, where he would be bombarded by baby dragons looking to cuddle with their egg-father. He loved spending time with all of them, but he worried about them too. What would happen when grew too large for the caves? Where would they go? Would they be safe?

But as the young dragons grew, they were content to stay in their hidden sanctuary, keeping each other company and eagerly awaiting their egg-father's sporadic visits. They especially enjoyed his stories of Camelot and his golden king. They loved to imagine the man their father was describing, a man with gold for hair and jewels for eyes. He must be the greatest treasure in all the lands! It was no wonder their great and powerful dragonlord kept him safe in his hoard!

And it went on like this for several years, up until Morgana heard rumors of strange growls and reports of terrible beasts coming from the caves underneath the White Mountains. Upon hearing these rumors and sensing with her magic that were was a small army of powerful magical beasts within the caves, she came up with the brilliant plan of luring Arthur, Merlin, and the knights into these tunnels and trapping them there. Those beasts, whatever they were, would surely make quick work of all of them!

Her plan, of course, succeeds. After all, she knew that using a knight as bait would lure all of them into the caves, and then using her magic to collapse all of the exits was simple work. As she walked away from the mountain, she cackled with furious glee. At long last, all of her enemies were doomed! Camelot was hers for the taking!

Meanwhile, underneath the mountain, Arthur, Merlin, and the knights were all trapped. While they hadn't run into any of the monsters Morgana had mentioned, they could hear growls echoing off of the stone walls, heralding their doom getting closer and closer.

(The growling, translated from dragontongue: Papa! Papa! Papa's back!)

As the sounds of the ferocious growling grew closer and closer, they could see the shadows of the beasts approaching on the walls of the cave. They were enormous, with wings and claws! Arthur and the knights all drew their swords, ready to fight to the end against a mob of these horrid beasts.

As the monsters came into view, the shocked gasp came from the group. Before them was an impossible sight, dozens of dragons, each as long as two men and as tall as Percival!

(Merlin gasped at the sight because his babies had suddenly hit growth spurts! They were so much bigger than the last time he saw them!)

Arthur and all his knights braced themselves for what would be a devastating attack from the monsters, when suddenly, to their horror, Merlin ran out in front of them!

"Merlin! This is no time for your sacrificial idiocy! Get back behind us!"

But Merlin didn't even glance back at them, h simply ran forwards towards the beasts!

Arthur gave out a heart-wrenching cry as the monsters pounced on his friend, their razor-sharp claws tearing through his skin and their horrid jaws opening to bite at his flesh.

(Merlin, meanwhile, was being cuddled and playfully licked by his dragons, who took great care to keep their claws and teeth away from their egg-father's soft human skin.)

With a savage and anguished war cry, Arthur ran forward, sword in hand, praying that Merlin was still in one piece. Jolted out of their horror by Arthur's cry, the other knights follow, ready to slay these monsters and save Merlin from their grasp!

The dragons, who recognize Arthur from Merlin's descriptions of him, dart forward, excited to finally meet the golden king that their lord talks so much about! The golden king was as radiant as their lord said he was, and he even gave a play roar and charged at them! He wanted to play and be their friend!

His strange gray hand-fang stung a little bit when it hit their scales, but it hurt no more than their siblings' claws when they were play-fighting together.

The young dragons had a great time playing with all their new friends, who gave play roars and hit them with those strange gray fangs. Their new friends were so fast too, not letting the dragons hit them easily.

This went on for a while, until Aithusa become too excited by all of the play fighting and accidentally knocked the golden king down too hard, knocking the air out of him.

Aithusa whined apologetically as she walked over to him, opening her mouth so that she could breath her healing breath on him, when he suddenly grabbed his grey-fang and aimed it at her open mouth, ready to strike. Aithusa flinched back in surprise, but the golden king's movement was halted by a call from her lord.

"STOP!"

Everyone, knights and dragons alike, froze at the order, even though the command had not been given in dragontongue. Aithusa whined in apology again. She hadn't meant to hurt her lord's king! She had just forgotten he was less sturdy than her siblings!

"Merlin! You're alright! Come quickly, we must leave before these beasts... why is that dragon nuzzling you like an overgrown housecat?"

Merlin gave Arthur his most innocent look, but it wasn't very convincing. Sighing, Merlin wrapped his arms around Aithusa's neck and hugged her, which caused her to start purring with joy, much to the knights' shock.

"Well, you see, I kinda... found a dragon egg out in the woods one day? And I couldn't just leave it all by itself, anything could have happened to it, so I put it somewhere safe! And then, it hatched! And I couldn't just leave the poor baby to fend for herself, so I brought her here, where I thought she'd be safe and not bother anyone. But then I couldn't just leave her alone here, so I came back to visit her and bring her food!

And then, I started finding more dragon eggs and brought all of them here and took care of them!"

Merlin finished his rushed explanation with a smile, hoping that Arthur would just buy it and not ask any questions, like how Merlin found any dragon eggs in the first place. By the end of his explanation, Arthur had gone from alarmed to completely exasperated.

"So what you mean to tell me, Merlin, is that you found dragon eggs, and, instead of killing them before they could become threats, chose to raise them like they were stray kittens instead?"

Arthur's tone indicated that yes, he had bought Merlin's lie, and yes, he also thought Merlin was a much bigger idiot than he did before.

Merlin just nodded, praying to anyone that would listen that none of the knights would possess any critical thinking skills and start poking holes in Merlin's hastily made-up story.

Merlin's fears were alleviated when Gwaine began laughing hysterically, walked fearlessly between the dragons, and clasped a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"My friend, I knew you were a special kind of crazy for putting up with Arthur all these years, but this! This beats any insane stunt you've done before! You've just tamed dragons, you madman! Hell, you've got them all wrapped around your finger by the looks of it!"

Gwaine, amazed and almost giddy, looked around at the dragons, who were contently cuddling up around Merlin now, tired from all of the play fighting.

Merlin rubbed the back of his neck, nervous and slightly embarrassed at all of the attention. The other knights looked on in wonder as Merlin told the dragons to go off the sleep in the nest, and they all listened. He really had tamed them!

Merlin turned and gave Arthur, who was still looked at Merlin with frustration and disbelief, a nervous smile.

"So, uh, it's probably a bit late to be asking this, but do you think I can keep them in Camelot?"

And that's all for now! I had a lot of fun writing about Merlin army of baby dragons! Please let me know if you'd like a continuation of this!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings!

[hotteokyu]

Ice on her Lips

Synopsis ~ Gifted with the curse of immortality, you are the northern princess that each kingdom desires to grasp. You hide within the northern army as an infamous general, fighting for your kingdom's treasure with ease... until a soldier from the east kingdom, whom you can never overpower, discovers your identity. The water is warm, but his lips are warmer, and you suddenly never want to return home. Even if you give your greatest enemy your sacred gift, you wish to stay in his enchanting hold.

Pairing ~ enemy!seonghwa x enemy!princess!reader

Word count ~ 5.3k

Genre / warnings ~ historical-ish, fantasy, romance, EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT, enemies-to-lovers, violence, war, blood, suffering, reader has white hair for plot, kissing, outdoor / semi-public sex, underwater play (?), the cave makes his soft noises really loud, he tries to gain control but he's a mess, unprotected sex, they almost get caught, oral sex (female receiving), hand job (hardly), he cums on his own, he cums untouched once, they're very mean (´‸`), desperate sex, just read it

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ! ! !

a/n ~ please enjoy! mwa ᯓᡣ𐭩

     You fight for your kingdom. You fight for its treasure which thousands have fallen to protect. You fight for your precious life, and that is why you are regarded with the highest rank and greatest respect.

     Because you fight for the kingdom’s treasure. 

     Because you are the kingdom’s treasure. 

     Your men don’t know you’re the princess that they are meant to die for. Your enemies don’t know you are not the general they desire to kill with every fiber of their being and dignity as a soldier. 

     It is your greatest amusement, watching your enemies fall at your feet with such hatred in their glare at the one thing they desire so greatly.

     You are the princess of the northern kingdom. Your skin is cold as frostbite, but warm blood streams healthily throughout their vessels. Your hair is white as the snow leopard which hides deep within your icy soul. You are a beauty, and you have the one thing all men wish to obtain. Immortality. 

     Although that term is very misleading, it is more or less true. You are gifted with everlasting youth and health until you die by a sword to your frozen heart. You have the ability to give any one being your gift. 

     Your northern kingdom wishes to let you live as any princess would until you pass peacefully. They believe immortality should not be brought upon any man or woman. Again, they do not realize it isn’t quite immortality. Nonetheless, the four kingdoms are at constant war, fighting to obtain the princess or protect the princess from the wrong hands.

     “Where are your men?” 

     You don’t turn your head, your eyes focused on pulling your warm gloves over your bruised hands. You recognize his voice, the man whom you happen to come across at least once a week in battle. He’s a general from the east, dressed in complete black from his long, bunned hair to his horse. 

     “I’m on vacation today,” you say softly, leaning back on your hands as you peek over at him. “Didn’t you hear? The princess died. Fight’s over.” 

     He huffs a laugh, smiling as he glances over at the entrance to the cave you’re resting in, sitting atop your beautiful white horse. 

     “Your men are missing as well,” you point out, eyeing the entrance. There’s no commotion or presence. He’s alone.

     “I came here to rest,” he says.

     “I doubt that,” you sigh. “Did you follow me here? Think I’d undress? Per-”

     “I think it’s time one of us dies,” he interrupts. “Men are falling at our sides and yet here we stand unharmed. We must fall alone for the sake of what will come of this war.”

     You tilt your head. How virtuous. “And what if you fall?”

     “So be it,” he answers confidently. “But I will not.”

     “I don’t think you understand why I’m so good at what I do, Park Seonghwa,” you whisper. Your tiny voice echoes throughout the cave, and your footsteps bounce from the walls as you dismount your horse.

     He comes down to your level, his boots clacking softly against the wet rock. He towers over you, but he doesn’t look so intimidating off of his stallion. He reaches out and taps your helmet curiously.

     “Is it this?” he asks. “You hiding something under there?” 

     You smile softly. “Let’s fight to the death,” you say. “Then we’ll find out.” 

     Seonghwa overpowers you with his pure strength, but you have an immaculate technique to counter. He’s good with his sword, but he’s so predictable. It’d almost be boring if not for his constantly trying to run at you and put you down. What kind of strategy is that? It’s pathetic. I guess he’s trying to use your weakness, but, really, let’s be serious. 

     But brute strength and better technique do balance out a little more than you’d like. It’s been hours of back-and-forth jabs and deep slices, and you’re both bleeding puddles onto the rocky cave ground. You’re panting, bent over as you clutch your trembling arm. You’ve lost your sword at this point, your fist curled tight as if you could deal a punch on this man while you weren’t about to pass out. 

     Seonghwa isn’t much better, but he’s standing tall, his sword snapped in two at his feet. He’s dripping streams of blood from his limbs, but he puffs his chest out in a laugh. He takes a trembling step forward, his expression remaining calm despite the tremors of his limbs. He reaches out slowly, and you can’t find it in you to stop him.

     As your helmet crashes to the floor, the metal clanking and echoing aggressively until it rolls to a stop, your hair falls into its natural place, covering your face from his faltering gaze. His fingers gently touch a strand, slowly following it to its tip without disturbing its soft delicacy. 

     “You understand now?” you choke out, trying to hide your fear. Seeing what you desire most practically in your hands could drive a man mad. Fuck technique, he could take you right now, and you won’t be able to stop him. It’ll all be over. 

     “I understand,” he says quietly. You lift your head in choppy, trembling movements. “Your kingdom does not understand your gift’s beauty, so they have thrown you to the one place where you can die.” 

     You clench your jaw. He’s hardly holding your hair between his fingers with any determination, but it feels like a tight leash. You can’t back away. “You don’t understand, then,” you say.

     “Princess.”

     Your leg shoots up to his face, and he grabs your calf, a deep scowl running over his soft features. He pushes your leg away, but you push harder until he slams into the ground. He grips your hair, pulling you with him with a harsh tug, and you immediately slam your hands into his throat, sitting your knees on the deep slashes on his arms. You dig your broken fingers into his neck, his eyes wide and arms useless. He grits his teeth, desperate to breathe as he squirms under you. His eyes never leave yours, his pupils contracted to thin slits of livid warning. As you eye the shards of his sword, preparing to end this once and for all, you hear a roar of footsteps coming from outside the cave.

   �� You grunt, throwing yourself away from him and sprinting further into the cave. You hear him cough and gasp, stumbling pathetically behind you as you escape into the darkness.

     You’ve been hiding behind a waterfall for hours. It’s cold, your clothes soaked in blood and mist from the splash of the water. You’re far from the cave, having found a small hole to escape from. You’re hidden carefully where no one should find you. 

     And you don’t know what to do.

     You’re cold and hungry. You’re too cautious to go out to find food. You’re too injured to move much anyway. You’ve wrapped up your cuts with strips of fabric from your clothes, but that’s all you can do. Your satchel is back with your horse. You think you should call for help. But… What if Seonghwa was right? Your kingdom had always expressed their hatred for your gift. You had wanted to be a soldier since you were young, but… normally kingdoms don’t let their princesses go to war, do they? 

     You sigh, resting your head against the damp rock behind you. “I don’t know,” you mumble, gazing out through the gentle stream of water at the entrance to the cave. 

     You hardly hear the gentle rustling of the flowers beside the pond, but you quickly scoot yourself deeper into the darkness when you see two black boots appear. It’s Seonghwa.

     “Are you kidding me?” you say through tightly gritted teeth. 

     He’s standing there, but he doesn’t look like he sees you. He looks calm, eyes gazing at the soft ripples of the water. His hair rests gently against his neck, wavy and thick, almost reaching his shoulders. He runs his rough fingers through the top, ruffling it lightly. He won’t see you. He’s off guard now. He’s alone. 

     You sit up slightly. He’s alone, off guard. You should kill him. You look around with your eyes without making any sudden movement. There’s hardly anything around you. No loose rocks or sticks. It’s all just… You spot a sharp rock from you. He’ll definitely see you. There’s no way you can reach it without him seeing you. Anyway, there’s no way you could muster the strength to crawl over there. You’re involuntarily limp. You should just pray he leaves. Don’t get into a fight. 

     But you eye him and start to panic when you spot him dipping his bare feet in the water, his shirt gone, and his hands working at the strings of his pants. How did he get undressed so quickly?? Is he seriously going to bathe in the middle of his enemy’s land?? 

     He pauses, though, and you nearly breathe a sigh of relief, your shoulders releasing their tension slowly. His muscles and scars flex as he turns slightly, his head tilting back into a small roll, stretching his stiff neck. He looks tired, his lips parted softly, eyes closed gently. He’s certainly doing better than you, but you definitely made him too weak to fight for a while. He lets out a soft sigh, and your ears perk up at the sound, the slight vocalization of his low voice rumbling gently through his chest. 

     “Princess…”

     Your ears fall, your expression blank. You don’t breathe, don’t think. 

     “Let me treat your wounds,” he says, tilting his head forward as he eyes the stream of water protecting you from his view. Or perhaps not. 

     But you remain still. Why would you go out? Even if it’s petty, you won’t give up. Even if it’s useless, you shouldn’t just hand yourself over.

     “Or will you watch me undress and bathe like a pervert?” he asks, and it gains him a scurry of trembling legs against the slippery cave floor. 

     You’re not just giving yourself to him… He’s going to heal you, and then you’ll run away. You won’t fight him. You won’t let him take you. You’ll run far…

     You can hardly climb down onto the soft grass, and you land harshly on your hands. Your arms fail to prop you up, so your face lies against the fluff of the damp green. He’s slow and cool as he walks over to you, kneeling beside you. He doesn’t touch you or say anything. He gazes at you for a second, your white locks stained by the puddles of your blood. Your bandages have done nothing to stop your bleeding.

     His fingers graze your hair before he lifts your head slightly. You groan, your head pounding as he lays it atop a soft fabric. 

     “Just lay here,” he says quietly. “I will take care of your wounds.” 

     His touch is so delicate. As much as you want to push him away, you want to pull him closer and have him caress your poor body like this forever. As much as you want to run away, you want to sink into the grass and fall asleep to his gentle breaths. 

     Your eyes open drowsily, hardly able to roll back into place, as you’re surrounded by warm, gentle water. The lake envelops your stinging limbs, and it numbs the feeling that you’re so used to. It should enhance the pain, and yet you feel weightless, skinless, boundless, yet still calm and sleepy. 

     “I used an ointment from the east,” he says below his breath, so quietly. “It’s very efficient,” he takes a soft breath, “and it’s lovely.” His voice is beside your ear, and you know his body is touching yours in familiar, intimate ways. But his voice is enchanting, lulling you to a hazy clarity of calm. “Are you hungry, princess?” he asks.

     One of his arms wraps around your waist, which is bare, as his skin directly slides along yours. Your cushion is his lap, but that is clothed as it should be. As he reaches for a basket along the grass beside the water, his chest leans further against your back. You gaze down with a warm, slow breath. Your chest is covered. He’s a kind monster at least.

     “Here,” he says, holding a container of fresh water up for you to take. Your hands tremble but can hardly move. Your head tilts to the side in a weak frustration. Your head is so fuzzy. It doesn’t hurt any longer, but you can’t seem to take control of any of your movements. Perhaps you’ve lost far too much blood. “Princess,” he whispers, and you hum in weak acknowledgment. With a sigh, he brings the container to your lips, but you can hardly form any shape with them, and the water flows quickly to the pond beneath the target. He takes it away with a soft grumble. Then, he brings it to his own lips, takes a small sip, and his other hand lifts your chin gently.

     His lips barely touch yours, just slightly to open your wide enough for the water to pass through. When he leans away, his fingers close your jaw, and you swallow weakly, your brows knitted together in relief as your horrible thirst is finally starting to be quenched. 

     He takes another sip and repeats, his head tilting slightly in something you would hardly call a kiss. But as you swallow, the sharp pain in your throat begging for more, your useless fingers claw gently at his side, and he pauses in his tracks, his eyes searching for what’s wrong. You can’t speak. You need more. He needs to hurry. 

     Your head trembles as you lift it slightly. “M-more,” you mumble. You should just drink it yourself. Fuck, you need more.

     He hurries to take another sip, and you meet him in the middle, smashing your lips against his. His body lifts a little as you push forward. You swallow the water quickly, and he tries to go away, but he’s going too fucking slow. Your lips move desperately against his, your throat burning with need.

     “P-Princess,” he gasps, turning his head away quickly. He grabs the container and takes a larger sip, bringing it back, and you’re on top of him before he can turn completely. Your wounds are healing fast with this lovely ointment, and your hands can finally move as you grab the back of his neck and pull his lips down onto yours. There’s more this time, and you swallow hard, pushing your tongue into his mouth to find whatever you can before he has to leave again. “There’s-” he gasps, “no- more-” 

     Your fingers slide through his damp hair, soft and thick against your rough hands. He’s curled over you, your back arched as you pull him desperately closer. Fuck, you’re hardly even thirsty anymore. His taste, his gasps, his vulnerability, and his kindness. You need more. As your fingers slide through his hair, he groans softly. It probably feels good. Someone like him has never felt such love, such care and affection. You want to give it to him so bad. You should repay him for his kindness. 

     You break away, panting and flushed. His eyes are hooded, his lips puffy as he leans toward you. His cheeks are a light pink, hair disheveled. What a beautiful sight.

     Your lips find his jaw, feeling it clench as you trail soft pecks down to his neck. His skin is soft here, untouched. You nibble lightly on the skin and listen to his gentle shiver as you give kitten licks to ease the sting. You graze your teeth against him as you open wider, teasing the skin as you press lightly down. His hands slide across your thighs, squeezing them as he lifts his chin a little more, giving you more access. 

     Thumping footsteps make both of you jump, and a deep, obnoxious voice calls out, “Seonghwa!” He pushes your head harshly under the surface, and everything else is muffled for you. His hands quickly gather your hair and hold your strands tightly so they won’t float everywhere.

     You open your eyes slowly, listening intently to the voices above. Seonghwa is looking behind him, speaking, but you can’t make anything out. You won’t die or anything, but, if you run out of air, you’ll pass out. You really don’t want to deal with that right now.

     Pressing your lips together tightly, you lower your eyes to his body to occupy your mind while you wait. Fuck, his bare, hard chest and defined stomach sitting right in front of you... He should really thank you for this body. Fuck, he’s beautiful. Really, it’s because of you he’s had to train so hard. 

     His… oh…? You raise a brow as your eyes land on his crotch. He’s wearing black briefs, his thighs thick and hard, but not harder than his cock. The bulge is big and hard to miss, straining against the fabric. It doesn’t leave much of anything to the imagination. The tip is outlined, the shape of him defined in detail just for you. How is he so worked up from a few innocent kisses? 

     You glance up, and he’s taking his sweet time talking to those men. You’re going to run out of air soon, but this fucker doesn’t care, does he? He thinks because you’re immortal you can just sit under water like it’s nothing. 

     You huff, a small bubble of air floating to the surface, and you grab his cock. He jumps, his hand tightening around your hair and pulling lightly in warning. But you don’t let go. He’ll get them out of here, or his dick is gonna fall off. 

     It’s heavy in your hand, though still covered by the fabric. You wonder how thick it’d feel out of the water, just resting in your hand. You wonder how he’d sound if you gripped it hard and stroked him until he came with a pathetic whine. You swallowed hard, feeling it pulse in your grip. 

     Feeling newly frustrated, you look up, and he’s still talking. What the fuck is there to even say? You grit your teeth and grab the band of his briefs, pulling them down until his cock slowly comes out, floating to hit against his stomach. He pulls more harshly on your hair, and you groan. It doesn’t hurt underwater. Everything feels numb and weightless. It just tickles a little. Maybe it’s because you’re losing air, and your head is feeling foggy, but you want to push him further. You want him to hurry, but you also want to torture him just a bit. 

     You wrap your hand around him, your fingers almost able to touch but not quite. He’s so hard, twitching in your hold and shivering as you slowly glide your hand up to the tip. You watch his stomach tense up at every subtle movement. He sinks a bit further into the water as your thumb brushes over the slit. He’s throbbing at this point. Maybe being watched is getting him off. Maybe he likes the thrill of possibly getting caught. 

     You stroke him slowly, feeling every vein and unique shape, mesmerized by how his entire body shudders when you do something he likes. Fuck, you want to hear him. He’s so stern and confident, but, look at him, he’s trembling just for you. 

     You stroke him a little faster, your air running thin quicker and quicker and time moves fast. He grabs your wrist, and suddenly, you’re lifted from the water. 

     You gasp for air, coughing and taking long, deep breaths. He pats your back as you grasp his shoulders, wiping at your eyes as you try to see again. Fuck, your head hurts. That was close. You really thought you would pass out there. 

     “Fuck, Seo-” He grabs your body and lifts you over his shoulder. Your upper body hands against his back as he holds you there by your thighs. Your wet hair dangles into the water, floating along the surface like a spider’s web. “What are you-!”

     He grabs the waistband of your pants and pulls them down, discarding them somewhere, and suddenly your ass feels very fucking cold. You squeak pathetically as his hand digs into your flesh, his fingers slipping slightly into the wetness of your core. 

     “Since you seem to like games like this, we should keep playing, right?” he practically growls. You feel a thick finger slowly slide through your slick, and you shiver. It slips through your soaked lips and teases your hole before moving away completely. “Who knows who might come and see us, princess?” he says, his voice low and thick with anger. 

     You try to spout something back, but he slams two fingers into your hole, and a long, pathetic moan is all you can utter. Your legs try to spread wider, but they can’t move, and it makes everything so tight. Fuck, he’s ramming his fingers against your walls, and you tremble, your moans airy as you struggle to breathe and absorb the pleasure at the same time. 

     “Someone could be watching right now,” he says. “Maybe it’s your men. They’ll watch their great general cum on their enemy’s fingers.”

     His teeth graze your side before biting down on your flesh. You whimper, his every word and- No, no, what the fuck are you doing? You let him have his way as soon as he gave you something good. You groan as you reach into the water and search until you find his cock. You grab it tightly, and his pace falters.

     “Princess,” he warns, but both of you stop as soon as you hear a slight rustling in the woods.

     Your body is slammed into the water, and he follows right behind this time. He urges you to swim toward the waterfall, and you get there before him, pulling him to the surface quickly, and his hand wraps around your mouth as you go to say something. 

     “I swear I saw her come this way!” a young man shouts. “Look! She must have been here!” He must be pointing to Seonghwa’s bag, which was beside the river.

     Seonghwa is pressed against you, your back to the rock path which you had been resting on before he found you. The cave is dark and silent as you both listen intently. 

     “She’s most certainly been captured,” a deep, nasty voice declares. You know that voice all too fucking well, and your eyes grow wide. The king. “Follow the river to the northern kingdom. It is where she must be!”

     There are too many footsteps to count as his army does as they’re told. Everything goes silent again, and you release the breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. You should have called out for them, but it hardly even crossed your mind. Why? 

     Turning back to Seonghwa here, you don’t even care about going home.

     Neither of you even question it. You don’t care.

     He lifts you onto the rock and spreads your legs, your hips right against the edge. His warm breath fans over your thighs as he gazes into your eyes. Your cheeks are so hot despite the cool air against your wet skin, and you lean back onto your hands with a soft sigh. You watch as his gaze fixes on your pussy, a low groan tingling your ears. 

     One of your hands comes to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses your inner thigh softly. His lips press against your slick, and you whimper, biting your lip as his brows lift at the taste of you. His eyes roll to a close, his tongue licking a thick strip from your hole to your clit, and you tremble, your ears twitching as the wet sounds of him against you are enhanced by the cave walls. 

     His hands grip your thighs as he sighs, his lips moving like a kiss against your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit and tasting your sweet slick desperately.

     “Fuck ngh~” you whine, your hips grinding against his tongue. “S-Seonghwa, Seonghwa~” Your words are airy and slurred, your eyes shaking as they roll to the back of your head with every suck and lick against your clit. His breathing is getting heavier, and you notice the lack of one of his hands on you. “Seonghwa, Seonghwa, sstop, I’ll h-hellp yoou,” you mumble, pushing his head away, but he doesn’t move. His lips move faster, his tongue burying deep in your hole, and your back falls to the rock, your legs trembling as he fucks your soaked hole with his tongue. “Hhwa, Seonghwa mm~ Hwa, llet me, pleease,” you beg, feeling his rhythm pick up, the heat and pleasure building quickly. “No, no,” you whine, a tear slipping down your burning cheek. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, Seonghwa.” You grind your pussy against his lips as your body trembles in pure ecstasy. You let out a desperate moan as he flicks his tongue over your clit, riding out your orgasm until you’re limp, shaking under him. 

     “Good girl,” he mumbles, leaving a peck on you as he backs away.

     “Shut the fuck up,” you growl, grabbing his hair. You sit up, closing your legs with a huff. “Fuck me. Right now.” His eyes grow a little wide, and you quirk a brow. “What’s wrong? Did you already cum?” He doesn’t answer, and you tug on his hair harder. “All on your own?” You laugh in disbelief. “Get out of the water.”

     He climbs onto the rock, and you push him onto his back, straddling his lap. Suddenly he’s so quiet. Suddenly his dick isn’t a hard, throbbing mess. You scoff, gripping him and pressing your pussy against him. He groans, his brows furrowed as you grind slowly. 

     “That wasn’t very nice of you, Seonghwa,” you spit, humming softly at the little bits of pleasure your clit gets. “Especially toward a princess.” You feel him growing harder in your grip, and you smile. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

    He’s silent, his soft breaths the only answer.

     “Of course, not,” you say. “Cumming all on your own. I didn’t even get to see your pretty face.” You reach out and push back the little hairs covering his eyes. You grab his chin harshly and pull him toward you. You smash your lips against his, grinding your hips harder as you feel him grow stiff. He whimpers against your mouth, his hands grabbing your hips and trying to still you, so you drop him with a huff. He groans as his head hits the floor, but before he can recover, you're lining his dick up to your hole. 

     “P-Princess,” he whimpers, his eyes rolling back as you sink onto his thick cock. Your lips puff out as you stifle a moan, his tip rubbing just the right spot, so deep inside you. You place your hands on his chest, your head hanging as you get used to the stretch. 

     “Y/n,” you whisper, afraid your voice will fail you if you try to speak. “Say my name,” you whine, “please, say my name, fuck ngh~”

     His cock twitches as he suppresses the need to thrust into your tight, soaked hole. “Y/n,” he gasps as you lift your hips slowly and drop back down. “Y/n, y/n, princess, do that again, fuck~” 

     As you lift your hips again and slam them back down, you collapse onto his chest with a soft cry. You let your hips do the work, your mouth devouring his as you fuck yourself on his cock. His hands grip your hips, pushing you down faster when you lift up. He wants to melt into you, this feeling making his entire body shudder with pleasure. His cock rubs against your walls and hits you just right, and you’re literally drooling into his mouth as you moan his name. 

      “Y/n, Y/n! Y/n, baby, you’re so tight,” he moans. “Are you gonna cream on my cock for me, princess? Come on, I know you’re close.” He plants his feet and grabs your hips, thrusting up into your pussy as you slam down. He picks up the pace and your head falls to his chest, your body limp as he fucks you desperately. “Come on,” he begs. “I’m gonna cum~” He hiccups. “Together, baby, come on, please~” He bites your shoulder as he tries to stop his moans, but his voice only gets louder as his thick, warm cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back as you feel him stuff you full, but it’s just not enough to make you cum. You can’t see his beautiful face. 

     So you lift off of his cock, his cum spilling out of you quickly, and you straddle his head, sitting your pussy against his lips. You watch his hazy eyes spill soft tears as he laps at you, drinking his own cum and your sweet slick. It doesn’t take much as he fucks you on his tired tongue, your pussy grinding on him at your own pace, for you to cum, whimpering and gasping as your body shakes with bliss. You watch him tremble as his cock spurts again, his face contorting beautifully just like you’d wanted to see. 

     You sit beside him and admire his beauty, completely limp on the rocky floor. He’s wet with tears and cum, and his stomach is messy with his release.

     You lean down and lick from his stomach to his soft cock, cleaning his cum off of his body. He shivers gently until you’re done, and you lay beside him.

     Your clothes have all dried, the sun warm against your skin as you both lay in the grass. There’s a comfortable yet questioning silence in the air. What now?

     “I don’t think I want to go home,” you say, gazing at the thin clouds and gentle sway of the trees. 

     Your answer is obvious. You want to live freely. But you know there’s no possibility of that ever happening. You know, whether you go home, where you’re resented for your gift, or go with Seonghwa, where you are desired for your gift, you will never be free. 

     “You were right. What you said when we had our duel.” He quirks a brow. “They sent me out to die.” 

     “Shall we just kill the northern king, then?”

     You whip your head toward him, his smile teasing as he gazes at you. 

     “You’re joking,” you sigh, turning away. 

     “I’m not.” He sits up with a small grunt. “Let’s take over the northern kingdom.”

     “Hell no,” you spit, propping yourself up on your hands. “Seonghwa, you're an eastern general. I’m not starting shit with you.”

     “So what do you want?”

     He looks at you silently. There isn’t a word in his eyes, and it forces you to think. What the fuck have you been doing your whole life besides killing to protect your fucking immortal gift? And the northern king refuses to use it. He wants you and your gift dead, but… what do you want? 

     “I want the fighting to stop,” you say. “I want men to stop dying for their greed.”

     “What do you want, princess?” he asks again. “Forget your gift. What do you want?” 

     You glance down at your clothes, dirty and old. A man’s clothes which you never really wanted to wear. The thrill of the battlefield is what keeps you moving, but you’ve always desired what could’ve been without your immortality. 

     “Shall we?” you mumble, gazing up at Seonghwa. “Shall we just kill him?” 

a/n ~ thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thoughttt~ ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू)

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[onigirio]

lyney is your biggest fan

no, really. as one of the biggest idols in fontaine, the magician is in awe of your talent. you were both performers yet, you were both so different. lyney's performances relied on illusions, trickery, lies. however, you were born with it. a voice that easily made his card tricks look abysmal. no amount of rabbits pulled out of a hat would compare to your natural talent

"excuse me- monsieur lyney!"

the magician turned around at the sudden call of his name. him and lynette had just finished another show at the opera epiclese, which had a surprisingly large turnout. what he wasn't expecting, was to see fontaine's national treasure in the audience

his lavender eyes widened upon seeing you. no amount of magic (real or fake) could hide the sudden increase of his heart rate

"ohoho? the ever radiant rainbow rose of fontaine. to what do i owe the pleasure?" he said coolly, despite heat on his face. you were even more beautiful in person

you laughed softly, a sound that brought a flush to his cheeks, "i just wanted to say that your show was absolutely mesmerizing!" the way you said it, with a sparkle of joy in your eyes, surprised him. the performer he looked up to, loved his show? lyney couldn't fathom someone as talented as you even sparing his hat tricks a second glance

"th-thank you demoiselle" he said as a flush made his way to his cheeks, "a compliment from such a praised performer such as yourself means the world to me."

you waved him off, "please- today I'm not an idol. consider this a fan showing their appreciation for their favorite performer"

fan?

oh

oh

you were lyney's fan. you enjoyed his shows as much as he enjoyed yours. the blond found himself flushing at the prospect of you cheering him on

someone called your name, and the both of you turned to watch two men in black suits approaching

"ah, my security is here" you said with a small frown, "they're pretty good magicians too, they know how to make all the fun disappear"

lyney pursed his lips. he didn't like seeing you sad, so, in a flash, he took off his black magician's hat and pulled out a rainbow rose

"lucky for you, I'm an expert at making things reappear"

now it was your turn to blush. you could only stutter, struggling to find the right words as you took the delicate flower into your hands. when your body guards arrived, you thanked lyney with a shy smile and left

maybe he wasn't the greatest magician, because you had just pulled off the most incredible trick

you made his composure disappear

[choccorin]

vampire!sakura

tags. sakura haruka x gn!reader

vampire!sakura who rescues you after finding you abandoned in a forest near his manor, he rescues you because he can sympathize with the feeling of being abandoned just because of your appearance.

vampire!sakura who lets you stay in his manor for as long as you like after taking care of your injuries, he lets you treat it like it's your home too.

vampire!sakura who “regains” his humanity after spending time with you. he treats you like his treasure — not in a possessive way — but in a way that he keeps you safe at all times, he always makes sure that you're healthy because he knows how fragile mortals are. not a single treasure can amount to your worth to him, even if they're the greatest treasure of mankind — they're simply worthless to his eyes, because they can never bring him joy like you did.

vampire!sakura who hasn't felt the warmth of the sun in over a hundred years, but can feel his face warm up when he's around you. once he realizes this, he's always clinging to you to feel your warmth, whether it's by holding your hand or wrapping his arms around you.

vampire!sakura who learns how to paint just for you. since cameras still weren't invented, he makes you pose for him so that he can paint you. he wasn't interested in making his own paintings before, but after meeting you, he wants to remember your face. so that when you die, he can look at the paintings and pretend that you're still with him.

vampire!sakura who fills his manor with paintings and things that you loved after your passing. he keeps a garden with your favorite flowers, and he has a rooms dedicated just for you, the paintings that he made and for the little knick knacks you love collecting.

vampire!sakura who doesn't wish to die anymore after meeting you. who else will keep the memories of you if he's dead? he dedicates his life onto keeping you — in his memories — alive.

n. had a thought about vampire! sakura while riding a jeepney home, so here we are.

[eydi-andrius]

Cruel Existence (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

summary: Gojo broke up with you a week ago. Trying to forget him, you invited your friends to a night out. It was fun while it lasted, until you realized that you never went home to your own place. In fact, you were sleeping soundly on his bed.

cw/tw: angst, hurt, pain, mentions of break up, regret, mentions of drinking until one passes out (please don't do this), trespassing

a/n: this was fun to write. I hope you like it. Again, as much as I appreciate likes, comments and reblogs motivates me better. Thank you!

🐈

It is wild how the stranger you once met becomes the most important person in your life.

Then for one day, life decided to make that person a stranger again.

Some may argue that no, they're not strangers anymore.

However if you think about it, a person who isn't in your life is nothing but a mere stranger.

His memories may be there, and it must have been your greatest treasure. Yet, it doesn't erase the fact that it wasn't them anymore.

Each day, the knife twists deeper, sharper and deadlier the more you think about the what ifs and the whatnots.

It's like a deadly poison slivering inside your vein. Memories turn lethal and invasive. You begged for them to just stop and let you breathe.

You prayed every night for it to be over. As you close your eyes, you wish that the morning will make you feel renewed and the person you once were.

How cruel life can be when all you wanted was to be loved.

Gojo had found you first. Maybe that explains a lot why he ended it in the first place.

"Look at this girl. She called us to drink her sorrows away but she was just holding her beer and staring from afar." Iori called you out. Then, rolled her eyes in annoyance. You gave her a chuckle and muttered an apology.

If she did not call your name, you will probably think about what you did wrong and why he ended your relationship that way. He looks tired, fed up when you ask why. He wasn't the same Satoru to whom you knew. It was true that he could be cold-hearted at times but he never acted that way towards you.

That should have been a red flag but that action had made a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You almost thought you were special.

You bit your lips as you felt another tear wanting to come out and spill your pain in front of your friends again. Shaking your head and blinking your eyes, you tried your best to stop it.

You called and invited them to forget him. It has been a week. It shouldn't bother you as much anymore. He probably had been enjoying his single life. The pain of being pursued and being rejected after achieving your goal was something you had been trying your best not to overthink about. It might be true, but it wasn't healthy to soak through the scenarios and what ifs you knew nothing about.

It will just kill you inside and there will be no reprieve for it.

Attention and awareness finally came back to what you were doing, and so you looked around. The bar was loud. Blinking lights and the alcohol were giving everyone a false sense of confidence as they danced and socialized on the crowded dance floor. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Now, you kinda felt bad that your friends were just sitting inside the private booth with you. Especially, when all of these independent ladies had been through a tough week doing their work. You felt bad wasting their time to watch you mopping and crying over a man they already told you to be wary about.

"I know what you were thinking. And no, I'd rather sit here and join you into drinking your heart out than be with those strangers. Drink up!" Mei mei raised her eyebrows and tapped your pint. She's always so impressive at reading people. Sometimes you wonder if you had said your thoughts aloud with how accurate her words were, at times.

Heart filled with warmth, with how loving your friends were, you stood up and hugged them all. Shoko who remained quiet and sitted patted your back in reassurance after returning your big hug.

It was probably harder for her to hear what happened. She was close to Gojo. You just hoped she wouldn't be planning his murder though. She may be quiet but when angry, she can be more intense than these two.

Anyway, enough thinking about your ex-boyfriend now! These hot ladies gave you their precious free time so might as well use it wisely and to full extent.

You basically had dragged the three in the middle of the dance floor and showed them your moves, which was nonexistent, so you earned a mocking and hysterical laughter from them. Yet, it did not take long for them to follow suit and even challenge you to a dance battle.

The night was filled with laughter, and for once, during that grueling week, you forgot why you were crying and had to lie about your puffy eyes.

🐈

The pain in your head was intolerable. You had been awake for quite some time now but you cannot even lift your eyelids on how painful it was. You groaned. You moaned. You breathed in and out to make it better but the beating of the unbearable pain seems to get worse.

Well, it was true what they said, it had been fun while it lasted.

Last night was a blast. No one can stop the four of you as you claimed the stage and did your greatest night out. You felt the rush of freedom and so you did not stop taking shots after shots. The consequences were pushed back in the deepest part of your brain. And for once, you let your wild side out in public.

You were probably so wasted but at least managed to get home safe. The proof was the soft mattress of your bed. Your fresh sheet enveloping your exhausted body to a warm embrace while the air conditioner blows the perfect amount of cold. This atmosphere should have pulled you back to sleep, if it weren't for this godforsaken headache. Gosh, you wanted so bad to go back to sleep. But you are in pain, needing to pee and calm your growling hunger. You can even feel the vile gastric threatening to come up due to your empty stomach.

"How long do you plan to sleep on my bed?"

Familiar voice had spoken close to you and your body reacted way too fast. You sat up and opened your eyes. Leaning on the doorway was your ex-boyfriend Gojo Satoru. His blue eyes are neutral but his face says he was pissed.

His hair was damp. Droplets were even falling from it but he wore a white towel around his neck to prevent it from cascading further down to his body. He was half naked, only wearing an untied sweats that was hanging way too low for your comfort. Normally, you would say he was hot. But that was not the most important thing right now.

"What do you think you are doing inside my room-!?" In surprise, you yelled but were met by your very hoarse voice. You even ended up violently coughing and wheezing with how dry your throat was. It was as if you did a 24 hour karaoke with your friends or you competed at a screaming contest.

"Maybe before you groaned and moaned to someone else's bed, make sure you were actually on your bed." He tuts and moves towards where you were sitting. You felt a cold metal placed on your forehead and you sighed in relief. Even though it gave you a quick relief, it only happened for a second.

The pain, forgotten for a moment of shock, was now back twice ruthless. Your head was swimming in pain and you felt lightheaded. You left out a loud burp and you felt the hand, holding the can on your forehead, maneuvered fast to pick up the bucket placed methodically on his bedside. The respect you had for this man for preparing this much so he would be able to stop you if you plan to puke all over his place as revenge.

You wretched as if there was no tomorrow. All contents from last night probably had been vomited earlier because you felt only the acid of vile as it pushes whatever was still left inside of you. Heaving, you accepted the water he provided and gargled the last remaining content of puke in your mouth. You cleaned up using the back of your hand and leaned at the nearby chair while you were still sitting on his bed.

This is probably your year's nightmare. Drinking a lot for the first time, losing your friends by walking to someone else's house and worse, sleeping on your ex's bed and thinking it was so comfortable and homey earlier.

While you were thinking and regretting what you had done, you heard the scraping of the table being pulled closer to where you sat. His presence near you again. The clang of utensils, the sound of the lid being opened and plastic wrappers being crumpled and thrown had almost lull you to sleep when you felt a soft tap of his familiar hand on your shoulder.

With a blink, you straightened up and looked at the store bought food, placed in front of you.

It was cup noodles, a bottle of water and ibuprofen, placed on the side. The cold can of coffee just above it.

"Eat up or you will feel shittier than you are right now." He said more like an order and just stood in front of you with arms crossed.

You gulped and tried your best to eat but your hair kept on falling down and dipping on the cup noodles. You were already aware that you smelled like vomit, who could even imagine you can also smell like cup noodles. With a groan of frustration, you collected your hair on the side and was about to eat again when you felt his hand run through your hair.

He mumbled a soft "Let me." and with practiced moves, he was able to tie your hair with a hair tie. He used to do this a lot when you decided not to cut your hair shorter so you can donate it. He was so sweet and attentive when you were still together and this action of concern was not helping your case.

You sat and ate in silence while he stood there for a while and decided it was too awkward and he left you alone. He closed the door as softly as he could. Once you were sure he was gone, you gave out an empty scream and slapped your face multiple times. The pain, embarrassment, and anger were all mixed up as you felt it rise within you.

With a frustrated groan, you bite your lip and pray that this nightmare was all a dream. But you know better. Eyes staring at the familiar ceiling, you sighed. The room is engulfed with quiet except for your ragged breathing, indiciating, how sick you are.

The silence did not last long when you remembered your phone and frantically looked for it. You saw it placed properly on the nearby stool and almost cried when you saw the numerous texts and calls from your friends. Ranging from the early hours of the day and right now, it was asking for the same thing; where were you? or are you okay?.

Nervous, you tried your best to reply even with shaking hands and once you hit send, they immediately saw it and called.

The call was filled with screams of terror and relief that you were okay. But once they calmed down, you were able to talk to them properly. They even answered the gnawing question you had been wondering about when you saw Gojo in front you.

Around 3 am, you four had decided to book a room in a nearby hotel, instead of getting a cab and going home. You all were too wasted to even trust yourselves that you can all recall how to go home.

They never remember much after that but they were sure you were the first one to sleep on the bed. But later, after around 5 or 6, Iori woke up and saw you weren't there. They were filled with panic and terror because there is no way you can stand up after having that short sleep and being too drunk.

They tried to rationalize that maybe you did go home and tried to call you. But when you were still not picking up, they almost trashed the hotel room. Luckily, the cleaning lady was kind enough. When she saw their panicked and disheveled appearance, she asked the security to check if you left the hotel in one piece. It turns out, she had seen you four together and was also worried that something happened to you too.

They had seen you walking out of the room and through the lobby, up to the entrance. You obviously looked still drunk as you tried to wobble and walk straight ahead, outside of the hotel.

Since then, they have been blowing your phone with texts and calls. They could hear it ringing so they suspected that maybe you accidentally turned it to silent mode or you were kidnapped.

Grateful, you reassured them that you were fine. You made up a story that you booked a new hotel room, in another hotel, probably because you were drunk. Currently, you informed them that you were staying in that room and having breakfast. You reasoned out that you were not able to answer their calls and texts because you can barely open your eyes. It uproared another wave of panic but you told them firmly that you were fine and will call them once you take care of your too drunk ass. To stop them from asking further, you hung up the phone with an excuse that your battery was dying out.

There is no way that you will share to them that your drunk ass went to your ex's huge condominium and you thought as you woke that it was yours. You had been staying and visiting this place that your body immediately thought of this place as your other home.

After finishing your meal, and feeling the medicine taking effect. You psych yourself up to face the inevitable. There is no way you can just walk out of this place without confronting him about what you did and what he had to witness.

You walk to the restroom and try your best to look presentable and not a crazy person.

Once done, you slowly crept towards the door and opened it ajar, you scanned the place and looked for him. He was wearing a black fitted plain shirt, as he sat on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee as he typed something on his laptop. Probably, for work.

You walked slowly towards him and coughed to get his attention. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you, as he removed his glasses and closed his laptop. He grumbled and again, crossed his arms to his chest. His lips were abit pouted and the creases on his head showed a frown.

"I'm really sorry for trespassing. I promise I will never drink that hard again." You promised and even did a pinky swear in front of him. He looked unamused though as he replied with a doubtful "hmmm" and still had the same frowning face.

"Do you remember what you did then?" He asked.

"To be honest, no. I only remember being in a hotel with the girls and sleeping. I don't really remember much about what I did." You gulped when you saw him raised his eyebrow and sighed.

"See those keys?" He pointed at the keys placed on a bowl. "You used that to enter my condo. They were my spare keys that were still hidden in the same place. You were so drunk that you thought you went back home and even slept beside me. I thought I was sleeping with my pillow the whole morning, so imagine my surprise when that pillow turned out to be you." He shared with a firm voice, as if he even cannot fathom what happened.

However, something's amiss with that story.

"No way! Don't lie to me. I agree that I may have done the trespassing but sleeping beside you? Nahhhhhhh! I doubt that. Remember, you're a light sleeper! There is no way I can sneak up on you and sleep." It was now your time to raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at him. You even sounded smug for someone who owed him big time.

You do not believe that other accusation at all. That is so unbelievable and he was probably messing with you so you will feel guiltier from entering his home without permission.

"My new doctor prescribed effective sleeping pills for insomnia this time. I have been sleeping better and on time ever since. I never felt any movement at all." He smirked. And you know, you lose. Gojo never lied about these things and you also knew that he was struggling to sleep.

So if this was true, then for the whole morning, you were sleeping together!?

Who would even do that with her ex? Oh god you are stupid!

His smug look had made you feel ashamed even more and you know that you're red as a tomato. You feel hot all over and even at the end of your ears.

Let's end this humiliation and be done with this asap!

"I- Thank you for taking care of me. I owe you one. I'm so sorry again and will promise not to drink again and disturb you. Again, I am so sorry." With a deep bow, you sincerely apologize and you just hear him say "look up."

"It's alright. I'm glad your safe. Hangover but safe. " He taunted and you just wanted to slap that smirk out of his face. He was obviously implying how humiliating your shenanigans were. And they were, but he doesn't have the right to judge.

"Well then, if there's nothing more, I'll go back to the hotel and meet my friends." A bow again and you were on your way out.

You blinked when he slapped his hands on his thighs before he stood up and used his head to tell you to go first.

You frowned a bit in confusion but followed regardless.

This whole interaction was so awkward but familiar. He does this a lot whenever you visit his home. He usually drives you back home or if he can't, he will see you out to the entrance.

The elevator did not come sooner, however. It was creating unnecessary drama and tension between you two. As you just stood there, holding your bag for dear life. You hugged it for comfort and distraction on this growing awkwardness by standing near him. He looks fit. You imagine running your hands over him again. It was more tempting now than before.

"Please take care of yourself." You heard him speak first, breaking the ice. Your head whipped so fast in his direction when you heard his voice break a little when he said that. But when you looked at him, he titled his head to the side, confused at your action. Maybe you imagined it.

Embarrassed, you used the ping of the elevator as an excuse, thank god, and immediately rode the lift.

He was standing there on the other side, he was staring at you. It feels like someone was looking into your soul. You cannot help but feel vulnerable and open in front of his eyes. He looks solemn, calm.

If you stop me, I will forgive you and run back to your loving arms.

It was too late before you realized that you opened your mouth to speak and called his name.

"Satoru." His first name rang smoothly on your mouth. It feels comfortable and your heart twinged in pain when you realized that it may be the last time you will ever see him.

As the door closes slowly, you have seen his mouth move from your peripheral and he uttered your name softly, like how you say the name of the ones you treasured the most.

You do not know if you were just seeing things but his eyes look emotional, somewhat sad for a second. Before the elevator door finally closes and your name echoed when he said it.

"Y/N."

There were no tears as the lift started going down. You expected that seeing him one last time, you will feel the pain worse than before. Yet, that did not happen.

Staring at your reflection, your eyes look tired. The way those eyes bore at you speaks volume on how your soul truly feels about this.

You had a moment of acceptance when the doors closed in between you two.

A new chapter of your lives will arise. He will have his own world without you. He will be happy. He will be truly madly deeply in love with someone else.

And now, the hurt and pain became numb and cold.

Just imagining that he would love someone much greater than what he had given you was soul crushing to the point of rude awakening.

During those times, you will be happy for him. But you wish, as selfish as it sounds, that he will not be as happy when you were still together.

🐈

Gojo doesn't need to get up to know it was you who entered his condo without notice. He was a bit concerned that you kept on stumbling around and cussing his furniture out that managed to trip you, even though it was clearly your fault.

When he felt the bed dipped and your arms automatically hugging him from behind, it made him a bit nervous. He has to pretend to be asleep or else…….or else what? He never knew.

You smell like alcohol and you're even slurring your words. He never saw you this drunk before. In fact, you never liked alcohol. You have a terrible experience of living with an alcoholic, so a mere smell of alcohol repulses you. He never expected to see you drunk and barely kept together.

He was about to confront you, when he felt your arms tighten around him and your breath tickling his back when you said, "I'm home." with a sigh of relief before passing out.

Gojo had never felt more at peace hearing those words coming from your mouth.

🐈

When he woke up, he was just staring at you. He never had any proper sleep since the break up but knowing you were beside him, he was able to sleep well.

Maybe something inside him had been comforted when you said you were home. It actually warms his heart that you felt at home beside him.

He sat up and, a twang of pain rushed inside his chest. He shakes his hair in annoyance using his right hand.

He doesn't have the right to be sad about it when he was the one who broke it up with you.

Gojo never really knew why he did it in the first place. Sure, his family never approved of you but he never really cared about their opinion. He actually wishes for his old folks to die soon so he doesn't have to pretend that he cares about their words. He grew up without them being around.

Or maybe it was because he felt insecure that someone as kind and loving as you chose him. You were so different to the people he usually surrounds himself around but you were warm and he felt safe around you.

With a frustrated groan, Gojo stood up and was about to walk towards the door when he thought of an idea.

He slowly walked towards where you were asleep, bent down and whispered, "Welcome home." before kissing your forehead.

For the first time, after a week of him trying to justify that he made the right choice, making Nanami, his friend, worry that he was working too much, he felt at peace and happy.

Just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that he did not let you go for something so stupid and you were actually home with him.

[cloudcountry]

why not me?

SUMMARY: They're in love with you, but there's one thing getting in the way. That thing? The fact that they aren't your favorite person (and never will be.)

CHARACTERS: All NRC Students minus Ignihyde.

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: Cater feeling like he's second place because your attention is IMMEDIATELY captured by someone else when you're together makes my soul hurt. Did I write it anyway? Yes. Every time I write Epel I'm reminded of how hard it is for me to grasp his character AJHSDFAJHS

This fic is related to the drabble why me?! linked here!! that part is a fluffy part for idia since there was no one else i could write romantic content for in his dorm C: idia kissers get out of this one........

~~~~~

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts fails to see the appeal. And no, he’s not saying that because he’s jealous. He just doesn’t get how you and Ace can talk about anything and everything and do it with smiles on your faces. Riddle’s tried so hard to get your attention, almost pathetically so, and it’s like he’ll never be anything more than Housewarden to you. He resigns himself to his fate of getting over you when he sees the two of you hugging, loud proclamations of never wanting to let go ringing through his ears like a death toll.

Trey Clover can’t blame you. He really can’t, because both you and Cater have such magnetic personalities that seem to just click. Yes, it hurts, because he wishes he could be the one you lean on at Unbirthday parties, taking silly pictures and posting them to Magicam with sappy captions. Though, he supposes that isn’t his style. Maybe he’s too boring for you, he’s been called that before. As long as you’re happy though, Trey supposes he doesn’t mind. He just wishes things could have gone different.

Cater Diamond's content being your friend. That’s what he tells himself, just another lie stacked upon castles and castles of them. Even the Queen of Hearts can’t compete with his towering structure, built of his facade and held up by his pride. He takes pictures with you but avoids the heart emoji, he holds up bunny ears behind your head but avoids pressing his lips to your cheek. He keeps you at arms length, because whenever you’re with Trey, it’s so obvious he’s the one you’d want. He posts another picture, this one of you and him at the Unbirthday party, and it’s only him and you that knows that the failed shot was of you spinning around at the sound of Trey’s voice the second the camera went off.

Ace Trappola doesn’t understand your taste in men. You hang around Deuce all the time and make him all flustered and it makes his blood boil. His heart seizes every time he sees the two of you together and he knows it’s because he loves you. You, who always laughs at his jokes and puts up with his stupid shit and who told him that he wasn’t a burden to be around when he and Deuce got into a fight. That same person who he treasures so dearly treasures the person that could not be more different from him, and for once Ace knows he should just give up because you’ll never be his.

Deuce Spade finds himself getting angry more often than he’d like. It’s irrational most of the time, little parts of his delinquent side coming out when he least wants it to. You’ve seen that side of him before. He wishes you hadn’t. Because maybe if you hadn’t, you’d like him more than his own Housewarden, who you’re currently feeding bits of strawberry tart to. Riddle’s face is bright red and Deuce feels his grip on his fork growing tighter. A pit of ugly jealousy twists in his stomach as Riddle mumbles something that makes you laugh, and Deuce can’t help but wonder where he went wrong.

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar can’t find it in himself to care. Not when you’re fawning over Jack like he’s the greatest student NRC has ever had, not when you spend every waking moment with him, not when your conversations with Leona become shorter and shorter. He finds himself waking up alone time and time again, without a cheerful call of his name from outside his door and your blurry form bringing him little snacks. He grumbles as he hears your laugh from outside his door, except you keep walking. Of course you wouldn’t check on him, but he can’t help but get his hopes up every time. Pathetic.

Ruggie Bucchi feels a pit in his stomach as you lean your head on Leona’s shoulder, pointing out something in his textbook that the prince isn’t even paying attention to. Ruggie grips his magical pen tighter, gritting his teeth as Leona grumbles something incoherent and flops on your shoulder in return. You look embarrassed, Ruggie realizes, tearing his eyes away from the display in front of him. He’s never seen Leona this happy. He’s never seen you this happy. Not even when you’re with him.

Jack Howl doesn’t want to question your choices. He adores you, as gruff and cold as his affection may be. He wishes he could express his emotions better when he sees you and Ruggie, laughing and smiling and touching each other like it isn’t a big deal. He feels like he can’t breathe when he sees you two holding hands, and he feels nauseous when Ruggie leans his head on your shoulder. There’s a part of his brain that he hates that whispers jealous little thoughts into his ears, thoughts that he’s ashamed to admit are his. Great Seven, why couldn’t you be like that to him?

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto feels sick to his stomach as he watches you talk animatedly to Jade, eyes shimmering like the stars the Vice Housewarden loved to admire. He sees the exact same look in Jade’s eyes, the look he has when he looks at his mushrooms or when he talks about a new bird he spotted on the trails, except it’s different. Azul doesn’t want to put a word to it, not when you reach for Jade’s hand and he takes it, because all Azul can think of is how that should be him.

Jade Leech is a background character in your life. That’s the role he’s been assigned and that’s the role he’s decided to be content with. He knows you won’t give him anything more than a fleeting glance, not when you’re hanging off Floyd’s arm like he’s everything you see. Jade is just a smear on the window, a blurry afterimage of his brother. There’s no use contemplating what you could have seen if you looked a bit deeper, because you didn’t. You favor his twin, and he can do nothing about it.

Floyd Leech knows what it’s like to want something someone else has, but never like this. It’s always been a feeling that surfaced when Jade got a treat before him, but this is not that. This is you, his Little Shrimpy, giving Azul your undivided attention while he talks about the monthly earnings of the Mostro Lounge. He whines and pouts and hollers into your ear, only to be pat on the head and ignored again like he’s only an afterthought. Azul gets to have all the fun with his Shrimpy, and that’s not fair.

Scarabia

Kalim Al-Asim invites you over as often as he can. He’s cheery and excited and absolutely delighted by your company as he shovels food onto your plate. Maybe he’s an idiot or maybe he's just dense, but he somehow misses the glances you send Jamil when he exits the kitchen. It hits Kalim like a truck one day when Jamil offers you heart shaped cakes, displayed all prettily on Scarabia’s best golden platter. You look taken aback but flustered, lashes fluttering as you turn your gaze to Jamil. He smiles down at you with a softness that Kalim has never seen him wear, and it’s like a knife in the heart. Oh. It’s Jamil. You’re accepting his invitation for Jamil. Oh Great Seven, you’re in love with Jamil. He excuses himself with a fleeting smile, running to his dorm room the second he’s out of view, collapsing onto his bed with a broken sob. Why did it hurt so much?! He should be happy for you.

Jamil Viper doesn’t even bother. You have his heart resting in the palms of your hands, but it’s like the weight of the organ is nothing because you can ignore it so easily. He watches you every day, observing your habits and mannerisms. He brings you and Kalim snacks as you laugh and study and talk, talk as casually as friends do, and Jamil wonders what it would be like to have that with you. He can’t though. He can’t, because he’d be competing with Kalim again and that’s never worked out in his favor anyway. Kalim always has to win, even if Jamil has to give up the one person who took the time to think about how he felt.

Pomfiore

Vil Schoenheit likes to pretend he doesn’t mind. He pretends he doesn’t like you as much as he does, because if he lets his emotions show you’ll surely feel obligated to apologize to him. He watches you as you talk happily with Rook, your hands intertwined and swinging as if you’re together already. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but he says nothing as the two of you prattle on. Leave it to you to capture a few hearts on campus and break most of them, Vil Schoenheit’s included.

Rook Hunt thinks the way you look at Epel is beautiful, though he wishes it were him. He honestly doesn’t mind that much, even if he yearns to see that same affection boring into his soul. He’s content for now, watching you watch Epel, the affectionate look on your face reflected on Rook’s. It’s painfully obvious to him what’s happening in that little heart of Epel’s as he returns your look, and as long as Rook gets to see you bloom with love then he’ll be satisfied. (Rook Hunt is also, unfortunately, a liar, and he knows it will hurt him in the end.)

Epel Felmier grits his teeth as you greet Vil with a cheery “hi beautiful,” and he returns the sentiment in kind. The way you two smile at each other makes him feel sick, so much so that he pushes away his food. Whenever the two of you are in the same vicinity, it's like Epel can't breathe anymore. He refuses to acknowledge what the feeling is, because that would be losing. Of course. Of course of everyone his first love could have picked, they fell in love with the one man he disliked more than anything.

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia gets a sinking feeling in his chest whenever he sees you with Lilia. He thought you and him were friends, close enough to act casual with each other. He’s never had that with someone before, and he’s definitely never felt this before you. Beautiful, accepting, kind you. But when he sees you with Lilia, goofing off and laughing and smiling, he realizes that what he thought was special meant absolutely nothing to you.

Lilia Vanrouge thinks the situation is funny in the cruelest way possible. He stares at you with affection blooming in his eyes, and yet he sees you look at Silver the same way. Lilia has lived a long time, and he knows nothing lasts forever, but the fact that he never even got to have you will always eat away at him. As long as he gets to see the growing affection in Silver’s eyes grow for you too, he thinks he will be okay.

Sebek Zigvolt can’t blame you! You’re so obviously in love with Malleus, and what an excellent choice you’ve made, human! There is no one…better in the love…department than...the Young Master...He can’t do this. Why won’t you look at him? There isn’t a single thing he can train or improve that would ever steal your attention from his Master, and Sebek knows it’s blasphemy to try. So why does he want so badly? Why does seeing you and his Master make him so bitter?

Silver shuts his eyes. Sebek is loud as usual, and your attention has been completely captured by him. He’s aware that he tends to blend in, especially when Sebek is around, but knowing that doubles as an excuse. Of course you’re not paying attention to Silver, because he’s sleeping and Sebek is talking. It isn’t until he sees the two of you walking and talking together, his fellow guard’s cheeks red as he turns his head away from you, that he realizes you act like that regardless of whether Silver’s around or not. Because you like Sebek, not him.

[pcktknife]

If Pearlina were in a Dnd type setting what classes would they be?

went ahead and did all the idols (- bm again im sorry big man fans) you can think of these more as them actually roleplaying than me throwing the actual characters into fantasy land cause I got itty bitty character backgrounds too lol

Callie (Elven Bard) plays as a princess who knows very little about the world outside her kingdom, but is very excited to experience it as an aspiring songstress. She also sometimes DMs. Marie (Changeling Ranger) plays as Callie's guardian.She's disguised as Callie's cousin who (unknown to Cal) died in a battle Marie witnessed. There'd probably be an arc in their campaign where this is dramatically found out by another party member lol.

Pearl (Halfling Bard-barian) basically plays the same character Callie does (princess who leaves to be a bard) except she'd already be an established world famous musician. She's prone to starting fights and used to also be smth of a gladiator. Marina (Human Artificer) plays who she kinda is in real life tbh. Engineer/Inventor behind much of her country's advanced weaponry. She felt unfulfilled having her inventions used solely for war though and dipped.

Frye (F.Genasi Rogue/Sorcerer) and Shiver (W.Genasi Warlock/Monk) play as a scavenger and pirate respectively. Their characters grew up together with no family but each other and consider each other their greatest treasure. They're pretty ruthless, have killed and will kill again (family that slays together stays together). Big Man usually DMs for everybody but when he's not he's usually playing an Earth Genasi or Firbolg and classing as a Monk or Cleric and is of course makes Frye and Shiv's group complete.

[vashtijoy]

inaccessible scenes: after the engine room

Many sequences in P5R are not deleted exactly—they're inaccessible. They're in game, theoretically, but game mechanics make it impossible for you ever to see them.

For instance, there are a bunch of TV shows that exist, that are presumably in game, but you can't ever get to the TV to watch them—usually because Morgana makes it impossible for you to go downstairs.

A couple of these scenes happen around the end of Shido's Palace, around the Akechi fight. Once you go into the engine room, you cannot leave until you defeat Akechi. You can't use a Goho-M, you can't take the route out. You are well and truly stuck.

Plus, once you have defeated him, the game funnels you to the Treasure, and any attempt to (say) go to a safe room will again be cockblocked by Morgana.

This means that the last two safe room meetings in Shido's Palace are never accessible. And one of them is important. Let's have a look.

We all know about the meetings—you go to the table in the safe room, you talk to the team, you ask how your progress is. They say some shit. It's usually worth a regular check-in:

The first inaccessible script appears to be triggered by entering the engine room. You get it after going in, but before fighting the Cleaner—so presumably after fighting his mooks, while you chase him about:

Morgana: We found the engine room, so all we need to do now is get our hands on the letter of introduction. Haru: It would be nice if we could avoid a fight in the process... Yusuke: Hm, given his attitude up to this point, that is highly unlikely...

The second one appears to kick in after the Akechi fight. After Akechi has given his life to save you:

Yusuke: Goro Akechi... I believe he may have been the greatest casualty of Shido's actions... Makoto: Was there no other way? Ann: We'll avenge him when we take Shido down. Come on, we have the letters now—let's do this!

"the greatest casualty of Shido's actions", huh? And it's inaccessible, of course. Leaving the engine room will warp you to the locked treasure room door. If you run to a safe room, Morgana won't let you go in. If you try afterwards, you've been updated to the "we need to send the calling card" script. You never see this.

But I'd bet money it's there. Just out of reach. Just another instance of the PTs understanding Akechi, and mourning him, rather than (say) hating him and being glad he's gone.

one more thing

Most people probably know that you can lurk mournfully by the shutters in the engine room. Nonetheless, here it is:

[el121a]

Being Elijah's Wife would include

Your flirtatious and magnetic confidence lingered in the memories of those you met, making you a topic of conversation long after the event had ended.

1 word to describe you would be genuine.

Elijah would never tell you, but even though it was too dangerous for a human to accompany him, he believed you made him look better and enjoyed having you around.

You are Elijah's pride.

Being Marcel's friend, you navigated the supernatural world with grace and charm.

Even when you're mad at Elijah, you can't help but believe in him. "Elijah has re-constructed diplomacy to bitchy insults and it still works, so… Yeah, I think he’s got this."

You may have not been a vampire, but you knew how to take care of one.

You were warm and approachable but commanding, a perfect balance that captivated those around you.

You and Elijah would work out together, finding entertainment in witnessing what a vampire could do.

Being the closest to Kol and Davina, you bridged the gap between the Mikaelsons and their extended family.

Being a mother figure to Kol, and of course Davina now that they're married.

You're just as much of a fashionista as he is, You wore only the finest. Picky is an understatement . No zippers,glitter, or anything that looked cheap to you.

Elijah was possessive of you since you were his greatest treasure.

Having children with Elijah after a thousand years of not being able to reproduce was a blessing and a testament to your unique bond.

You didn't care to insult anyone like your husband did, but your sharp wit was a force to be reckoned with.

Elijah is a sex god in your eyes- or anyone's of reason, and you're not shy about expressing it to his praise kink.

Elijah is busy, but you take on some of his responsibilities willingly, understanding the weight of his duties.

At first, he was afraid to ask for sex, but that notion quickly faded as he realized your desires matched his.

Elijah always buys you flowers on your monthly dates, a tradition that never fails to make you feel cherished.

He married the most gorgeous person in the world — you! And he tells you it's his biggest feat, a sentiment that never fails to bring a smile to your face.

You and Elijah share great laughs, finding joy in the simplicity of each other's company.

You teased him for losing his Viking demeanor to a suit during sex, and he's gotten less snobby trying to prove himself to you. Everyone has noticed, but no one will ever know why.

You both walk around the quarter at night, immersing yourselves in the timeless charm of New Orleans.

He's comfortable being a vampire around you.

You both read and write together, creating a world where words are your shared language.

After your showers, he braids your hair into Viking braids for the night or the rest of the day, a small intimate ritual.

And you braid his, a gesture that signifies the intertwining of your lives.

You guys cook together. Taking your time and talking about your day or upcoming day with him. The most relaxing part of your day as his Wife.

You knew him since you were a teen, so you feel like you know him in and out.

He's mostly submissive, except in bed. He tries to be, but he just can't keep his hands off you.

You didn't drink vervain because you felt that to be an insult to your husband, trusting him completely. You were an amazingly powerful sorcerer though.

Elijah fell inlove with you becasue of your love of Ideas, always having critiques, theories and your philosophical rants encouraging him to talk. How you listened to him like no other.

You created another type of magic for vampires in your studies of the supernatural because the human sacrifices weren't cutting it for you — pun intended.

When you first came back into his life, he was scared to love you because you were all he owned. Nothing Klaus had. By loving you, you taught him how to love himself. Congrats to you.

He has a secret breeding kink, One that you take advantage of. Along with his sir, Mr, and teaching kink. Nothing too wild, He's more of a romantic.

He grew a stubble for you when you told him you thought it made him look more like a DILF, embracing his role of a father.

Elijah doesn't want you on the tip of your toes to kiss him, so he lifts you effortlessly, creating a height equality you both relish.

He's your best friend, and he can say the same about you — a companionship that transcends time and immortality.

[aventurineswife]

May I please request Aven playing with his twin babies??? (I always imagine him having boy and girl twins)

Like, imagine their tiny hands trying to grab his expensive trinkets and use them as teething toys (idk what they're called LOL) 💖💖

“Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart”

Summary: Aventurine finds himself caught in the simplest yet most precious game of them all: fatherhood. As he watches his twin babies playfully fight for his trinkets, he is overcome by a rare sense of joy and love and forgets his usual guarded ways. The twins bring out this part of him, an element of play which he has kept hidden for so long, reminding him that the gamble may not always be about wealth or power but about love and family and sometimes just the little things in life.

Tags: Dad!Aventurine, Family, Parenthood, Humor, Mischief, Love, Emotional Vulnerability, Joy.

A/N: searched it up and it's called teething toys (for babies), so you're correct! Don't worry :3

Aventurine had always been a man of risk—whether it was navigating the volatile corridors of power or placing a bet on an impossible con. But today, the stakes were far more personal, and far more precious.

He sat on a plush velvet armchair in the lavish sitting room of his estate, his usually composed features softened by a rare, unguarded smile. His children—his twin babies—played at his feet. The boy with his bright eyes and unruly hair laughed as he reached out for the small trinket that rested on the low table in front of his father. The girl, her dark eyes twinkling mischievously, was already doing her best to grab at the same piece of jewelry, her chubby fingers curling around the delicate gold chain.

They get him with a teasing, affectionate smile, the careful mask slipping in their presence. Aventurine thought himself a strategist: one reads the room and predicts the next move. This game of life has changed, though, when it comes to these two; his heart runs in an uncharted course.

"Ah, no, no," he crooned softly, reaching down to pull the gold necklace from their jaws, "That's not for you to chew on."

The boy whimpered softly, his huge eyes looking up at his father, while the girl beamed up at him as if plotting her next move. It was as if they were already working together—hard not to laugh at this. He had a feeling of something between alarm and endearment at the mischievous streak that mirrored his own.

"You two are already scheming," he said to himself, shaking his head. His eyes remained on their small hands, still reaching for anything they could grab. The girl grabbed the chip coin, clutching it in her chubby little fist. Aventurine's heart fluttered at how such small hands could hold such weight in his life.

"You know," he started, settling back in the chair as he absently fidgeted with his bracelet, "your parent would have a fit if they saw you two playing with my trinkets. They're far too expensive for you to be using them as teething toys."

But the two of them did not give up. The boy, not wanting to lose, managed to tug at a delicate gold ring on his father's wrist with a surprising strength in those baby fingers.

With a theatrical sigh, Aventurine carefully took off the ring, his voice playful yet firm. "If you keep this up, you'll ruin my reputation as the greatest gambler in the universe," he teased. "People will hear about the time I lost my ring to a toddler."

The twins giggled in perfect synchrony, their little voices harmonizing in the most innocent way yet having in their expressions mischief written. Perfect, the gamble paid off in the most wonderful of ways—though Aventurine would never admit how much a gamble fatherhood was truly.

As the boy squirmed closer now to pull at his father's choker, Aventurine couldn't resist. His usual wariness was forgotten in the glow of the moment, and he let them have their play. For the universe held no treasures to rival the joy he felt in their company.

"You little thieves," Aventurine laughed, hoisting the girl up onto his lap, her face breaking out into a grin that was at once his charm and her parent's warmth. The boy crawled up to his side, reaching for his father's face, as if trying to claim him entirely.

Aventurine’s heart fluttered again—this time, he didn’t even try to stop it. He was theirs, every last bit of him. And for once, he didn’t need to calculate the cost of that connection.

For this gamble, there was no risk at all.

[serene-faerie]

When Melian returns to Aman, she returns as a stranger in a strange land.

Her time in Beleriand has changed the very essence of her spirit, and she quickly finds that Aman is no longer the same as when she'd first left.

Melian can no longer find beauty in the unchanging perfection of the Blessed Realm. Though the landscapes are lovely, there is always something missing.

She misses the rugged but natural, cavernous beauty of Menegroth. The sparkling, open cities of Tirion and Alqualondë are strange to her, with their many buildings that glitter in the sun. Both cities are lovely, but they're too perfect, too clean.

She misses the cool air of the forests of Doriath. Though the forests of Aman are lovely, they are too pristine, too perfect. They don't grow tall and wild like Nan Elmoth, and there's no sound of rushing water like there had been in Neldoreth.

She misses the nights of Beleriand. In Doriath, the forests always came to life, with fireflies drifting through the trees and crickets chirping alongside the songs of nightingales. Nights in Aman are too peaceful, too quiet, unless you were in Tirion or Alqualondë.

Melian struggles to fit in with the rest of the Maiar. Many of them cannot understand the emptiness she feels. Her time among the Children of Ilúvatar has changed her so much, she cannot go back to how she used to be.

She misses Elu Thingol, her beloved husband and life partner. She misses the Iathrim, the people she loved. She misses Lúthien, her only daughter, and Beren, her brave mortal son-in-law. She misses Dior, her willful and spirited grandson. And above all, she misses Doriath so much.

However, she doesn't regret her life in Middle-earth. She was able to be a wife, a mother, and a queen. She was surrounded by people who loved her, and she loved them all with every fiber of her being. She had a beautiful family of her own, and they were her greatest treasure.

And even after all of the sorrows and heartache, Melian knew that she would gladly live that same life again if she could.

[pauleentology]

Ben Clark's trauma🩷

His mischaracterization is literally crazy bro especially on those Wattpad fanfictions I cannot bring myself to finish any of them because they all portray ben as the big quiet dude😖 he is so much more than that oms

Trauma analysis

in my honest opinion, Ben had the worst backstory ever of all of them like it was literally so brutal and for WHATTTTTT (jk red knows how much i like traumatized teenagers)

Imagine being judged by your appearance and not being able to make much friends because of being too "intimidating" just because of your size, and being judged for how you express yourself because it isn't what others expected of you to do, then ultimately being bullied for it just because your appearance didn't match your personality.

Imagine being feared by everyone and persistently being offered by bully-groups and punks to join them because all they see in you is a weapon and not a human being all because your size isn't that of your age?? Finally building up the courage to show everybody that you're more than just the dangerous giant they see you as and actually perform, but they choose not to listen to your voice and focus on why somebody of your size is singing instead of fighting and slacking because they're just that shallow.

Then at 12 years old having that one thing you love most taken from you because you refused to become something you're not, losing your way of expression, spiraling into depression not long after.

The moment he wakes up in the hospital, trying to speak or say anything but all that comes out is broken words and strained breaths. How disgusted he must've been after hearing his shattered voice for the first time— that his greatest treasure just slipped away from him like that, and the thought that he would never be able to sing again slowly settling in.

Being so blinded by rage and having that much anger inside of you that you just give up on controlling it and let it all out in forms of street fighting and brawling, becoming so numb and addicted to the sensation that you can't bring yourself to stop no matter how much you want to.

Coming home from school to see his house set in flames from spite of a fight HE started. Seeing his parents and little sister grieving over the loss of their home— all because of him and his rage.

The realization creeping in that you've become the one thing that you swore to never be. That all the pain and beatings you endured, all in vain because you gave in anyway. You gave in on your own volition. The hate he must've felt towards himself because he was the cause of their pain. Seeing himself as a monster. Realizing how much people he'd hurt because of his lack of self-control and rage.

The day his parents broke to him the news that he'd be staying at his cousin's house for the time being, thinking that they didn't want him around anymore. Him thinking that he was so dangerous his own parents had to ship him off someplace else. He'd hurt everyone around him, and it took so much for him to realize it. He'd look at himself in the mirror— and instead of seeing the innocent little boy what he saw instead was a rage-filled monster everyone feared but this time for good reason. How he'd lost himself completely, and there's nothing he can do to undo everything that happened.

How scared he must've felt that he might hurt Aiden's family too like he hurt everybody around him, and how much he hated himself for not being able to control it.

Finding comfort and belonging with Aiden again for the first time in forever— a newfound peace and purpose after picking up multiple hobbies and a new kind of happiness after meeting the SBG group. Buttttt at the cost of having to brush with death every single night and watch two of his friends die— imagine how he felt when they were talking about how they could be becoming phantoms, how it would all happen again. The feeling of becoming the one thing you sought to destroy and having no control over it was all too familiar to him. The fear he must've felt realizing that everything from his past would repeat itself this way, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Nobody ever talks about his reaction during Aiden's death. Watching his cousin and bestfriend get crushed by a ceiling right in front of him and not being able to do anything since he was still covering Tyler. The cousin that took you into their home, understood you, stayed with you, and saw you as a normal human being rather than a dangerous giant. The person that was able to finally make you feel what it felt to belong for the first time in your life— and watching that person die infront of you. And he just had to stay there— he couldn't do anything to save him. After all, he never could.

The constant reminder that he had no control over anything in his life.

[the-fabled-void]

Part 2 of 2019 incorrect quotes but I edited out the unfunny ones

Dream: True love is born from understanding

Swap: Simplicity, patience, compassion; These are your greatest treasures

Ink: Kill anyone you don't like

Swap and Dream simultaneously: INK NO

Ink: INK YES

-

Nightmare: I love the Bad Sanses. They're all too good for this world, I'm so proud of them.

Error: *destroys the microwave*

Horror and Dust: *scream at each other

Killer: *starts beating the shit out of the toaster*

Cross: *eats chocolate instead of helping*

Nightmare, tearing up: My beautiful family

-

Fresh: Everything in this universe is either a duck or not a duck

Nightmare: How did you get into my home??

-

Ink: Gay

Nightmare, an intellectual: Homosexual

Sci, intellectualer: Gallium Yttrium

-

Geno: Hey do you still like me? Idk you're just being quiet

Reaper in bed, next to him: Babe I'm sleeping

-

(At Dust's funeral)

Killer: Can I have a moment alone with him?

Horror: Of course

Killer:... Listen, I know you're not dead

Dust: No shit

-

Reaper, to Geno: It's really sexy how you overcooked that egg

-

Horror, spying on the Star Sanses: What is that, Dust?

Dust, sarcastically: It's Ink's sweet 16 birthday party!!

Dust: HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?

-

Reaper: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

Geno: Did you just call me Satan?

-

Dream: Error would destroy an AU for you, Ink

Swap: Error would destroy an AU for fun

-

Epic: If I die, please bury me in one of these poses

1. T-pose

2. you know I had to do it to em

-

Dream: How do you sleep at night knowing that some people in the world might not like you?

Swap: Without my underwear in case they want to kiss my ass