#the world gives me [the power of being so fond of someone] and then it hits me with a truck

[sickgraymeat]

Just found out (should have known) that if I needed to go on disability (short term or otherwise) now or after my job ends I would not qualify bc I’m being paid under the table. Knew this abt unemployment but 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 everyone please advocate for yourselves and inform yourselves in the workplace and don’t accept illegal pay if you can help it. Not having to file taxes is not a benefit. You’re being screwed over.

[luveline]

Babe congrats on quitting!!!

I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more

R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?

thank you!!

You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?” 

It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.” 

Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too. 

James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork. 

He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively. 

“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.” 

“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?” 

Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say. 

“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.

You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.” 

“What happened?” 

You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face. 

His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.” 

He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.” 

You frown at one another. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?” 

“No,” you mumble. 

“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again. 

“I’m consistently below average.” 

“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.” 

Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does. 

He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.” 

“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.” 

“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?” 

You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?

When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.

[bluexiao]

#your highness, do you love me?

—how do they treat you with favor if you’re the tsaritsa’s heir

CHARACTERS. fatui harbingers (Tartaglia / Childe, Arlecchino, Pantalone, La Signora, Sandrone, Scaramouche, Il Dottore, Columbina, Il Capitano, Pierro); Tsaritsa’s heir! Gn! Reader

THEMES. Can be platonic/romantic, it’s on you; fluff; crack on some

WARNINGS. reader is a simp for everyone /hj; sandrone is gaslight gatekeep girlboss; obv tsaritsa is your mother here… biological or not is not really implied

NOTES. You are free to think what’s the reader’s age or appearance as i did not really specify those things here~ p.s. i tried to write for pulcinella… but i really can’t lmao

Archons, in general, do not pass down their divinity to their own blood. But for you and the Fatui, this was different. For them, the Tsaritsa was the one that built them and made them who they are now—giving them power and the ability to conquer the world of Teyvat.

…

TARTAGLIA, being the newest member of the Fatui Harbingers, is expected to do what newcomers do: be too showy with their loyalty—however, this is already quite apparent with his personality all the more, which made him stand out for you as he was twice as showy as the others than you’ve ever seen.

He was not exactly a good person, but he was the Harbinger that did not mind talking to you casually, especially after your permission. And you liked it. It was a breath of fresh air, and it gave you a sense of being one with them, not just someone who had a position just because you were their Queen’s heir.

“Are you leaving?” you question, catching him along the hallways, on th way out of your mother’s throne room.

“Hm? Why? Are you going to miss me?” he lets out a sly smirk to which you chuckled—how he can make you laugh in amusement within seconds still amazes you up to this very day.

“You’re so funny, Tartaglia.”

“So… you won’t miss me?”

You could only smile and send him look, “You’re free to guess, Eleven.”

ARLECCHINO gives you the same respect as she does with the Tsaritsa. She knows her place and her role, and she may not talk to you unless you talk to her first.

“Knave, Knave, have you heard? I heard Tartaglia went to look for Scaramouche. Would you be going as well?”

“I am not,” she answers, “not unless the heir wishes for me to go, then I shall-”

“Ah, no! Don’t!” You immediately interrupt her, “How about spending time with me instead?”

“If that is what you wish, Your Highness.”

“Knave…” you gave her a look—and for her, it was a look she often saw from the Tsaritsa, whenever she is displeased, that is—“I told you to call me by my name, did I not?”

A shiver runs down her spine, bowing her head down, “I apologize, Yo—Y/n.”

She feels a flutter in her stomach when she catches you smiling brightly—as bright as the sun that does not dare to peek in the land of Snezhnaya—what was this? Is this of worry that she had displeased the heir? Or was this because it’s you? Either way, both do not go well with her—this could jeopardize her standing as a Harbinger as well.

“Good! Now, accompany me? Knave?”

“Very well… Y/n.”

PANTALONE treats you quite handsomely (just like he is…) actually. He has a ton of gifts for you, especially when he came to realize how you liked being given one. He’d shower you with material things, and would even give them personally quite a few times—your birthdays most likely.

To be frank, he only did this at first to earn your favor, at the very least, make you have a good word to say about him to your mother just in case.

But things got out of hand.

“Ah, be careful! Lord Pantalone is fond of Your Highness’ heir. He would not tolerate it if he heard you say anything about them!”

Even the others had noticed the (not-so) subtle actions of the Harbinger, and yet it was him who thought that all this time, he was only doing this for such a simple reason.

But why does he find it infuriating just by hearing others say your name? Or whenever he sees you act more friendly to the other Harbingers.

He certainly has to find a reason why.

And the only way is to go and find you and have a nice chat.

Yes… just a chat.

LA SIGNORA is known for being one of the Tsaritsa’s closest aides, and that was how you came to know her as well.

As she is closer to your mother than the others, you’ve seen her far too many times and was able to also converse with her as well.

However… she’s quite…

“Ah, well it isn’t you, little one.”

“I… why do you always call me that?” you purse your lips, almost pouting in front of the Eighth Harbinger, to which she could only giggle.

“Why? Are you displeased with such a thing? Would you rather I call you…” she paused leaning in ever so slightly and making you lean back… but she didn't say anything else—just giving you a knowing smirk and look.

“C-call me… what?” You tried to question, entertaining her response, whatever it is.

“Hmm,” she hums yet never answers the question. She stays in that position a moment longer before she leans back and crosses her arms.

“Seeing as you couldn’t propose a new name, I’ll continue calling you the same, little one.”

SANDRONE does not really speak to you much, but people could feel that she truly favors you, probably much more than the other Harbingers and even the Tsaritsa.

Yet that favor seems to have come from somewhere else.

“I see you all are unaware, yet unawareness is not an excuse for this treachery. Your Highness, if you may allow me to punish them for their disrespect towards you,” the woman bows her head with a hand on her chest, making the Fatui members tremble at their leader’s words.

“T-the heir themselves! Please have mercy-!”

“They are my subordinates and yet they do not know who the heir of Your Majesty is. I am disgraced by such,” she raises her head and sends a look at you, eyes gleaming, “Your Highness should not let themselves be treated this way.”

Is she… urging you?

“I…”

“Have mercy, Your Highness-!”

You looked away, closing your eyes with a sigh.

“I’ll leave it to you, Sandrone.”

She smirks—which you failed to see—and replies, “As you wish, Your Highness. You truly are a great fit to the throne.”

SCARAMOUCHE is not favored by everyone, and maybe that’s why he does find satisfaction whenever you show your kindness to him.

Like a lone moon in the middle of the dark.

Not that he’d ever admit to such a thing.

“Scara!”

He grits his teeth, jaw and shoulders tensing at the way you referred to him—and at the mere sound of your voice. He bit back the words he so wanted to blurt out, aware of his surroundings—the eyes and ears that your call had caught attention of.

After all, it is not that usual for you, the heir of the Tsaritsa, to call someone—let alone a Harbinger with a nickname.

“Your Highness,” he hisses, and pauses just as soon as he had faced you, glaring at you as he mutters in a low tone, “do you love me?”

“W-what?!” You staggered and instinctively looked around. It was a good thing he had questioned you without letting others hear or else—

“I said—”

“I heard you for the first time, Sixth.” Your firm voice made him halt, as well as probably caught more attention from the people around you. It was not that usual for you to talk seriously in front of others—especially to SCARAMOUCHE.

He raised a brow at your tone, only to let out a scoff when you drop the serious look on your face and smile at him again.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“No! But you got my heart!”

He makes a disgusted look on his face, only to face away with a huff, crossing his arms. Ah, he should really make you stop… but it’s not like he could—or that he’d want to.

IL DOTTORE… Well, you probably found him scarier than Pierro honestly. At first.

As time went on and you continued to observe him, you realized that...

Just as much as someone like him craves for things that are interesting for him, he was the one who you found interesting.

“Ah… you’re here again, Your Highness! A pleasure for you to join us.”

You found yourself smiling at the grin that the Doctor gave you, standing at your usual place and placing your arms on the desk—one that is quite far from his workplace, as he’d one time told you it was “dangerous to come near”.

“What is it that you’re up to today, Dottore?”

“My, my, aren’t you a curious little cat?” He hums and turns to face you, “this time will be a secret, however. Fear not! Your expectations will be granted once I present to you what this experiment is about.”

“Oh? A surprise? I didn’t know you like surprises.”

“Oh I don’t” he smirks, “but I know you do.”

You adored COLUMBINA’s voice the moment you heard her, and it was you who gave her her name.

“Damselette, truly fitting, isn’t it?”

“I am grateful, Your Highness.”

Anyone could tell that there is something going on between the two of you—either you favor her greatly or that she follows whatever you say as if it is law.

“Isn’t she the Harbinger that the Heir is fond of?”

“I bet that she only became a Harbinger because of the Heir.”

“What are you saying?! That Harbinger is terrifying! Did you not hear what she did on her most recent missions?”

“What? What did she do?”

You were passing by with COLUMBINA when you caught the voices of the Fatuus not too far away from both of you, before they could say any more, you halted from your tracks and reached for your companion’s ears, cupping them and preventing her from hearing anything.

She perks her head but does not say anything. You could still hear the others’ voices, to which prompted you to signal from the guards that were accompanying you, and they knew full well what the look on your face tells.

Removing your hands from COLUMBINA’s ears once the guards had taken the talkative Fatuus’ away, your heart swelled on the smile that she flashed onto you, bowing her head and letting you hear her sweet voice.

“Your Highness is always there for me, and this humble servant shall always be by Your Highness’ side.”

You scoffed, smiling back.

“Good.”

IL CAPITANO… he knows his place—his title as a Fatui Harbinger, but he also would have tendencies where would show some human kindness that probably very few of his colleagues do possess… every once in a while. And honestly, that was what you liked about him. That regardless of his strength and title, you could see an ounce of humanity in him—despite there being a chance that he’s not anymore.

You’d never know.

Nonetheless, it shows whenever he was with you—or when you see him, actually. You two are not that close, it was difficult to. You are the heir of their Queen, who were you to make friends with technically her subordinates? Your mother would not permit you to, nor would she let them do the same.

One day, however, changed it all.

It was the day that you had seen IL CAPITANO training on his own. Ever since, you were mesmerized. It’s quite unknown to you whether it was because of him and his movements or was it your desire to fight.

But nonetheless, it broke all the walls down and prompted you to ask “Could you teach me?”

You caught his attention—maybe way before that day.

“I mean… could you train me? To be as strong as you. You’re strong… right? I’ve heard Eleventh ask you to spar with him before. Maybe… you can teach me that too. To spar.”

“I don’t see why I shouldn’t. '' You could hear the grin in his voice, but you can’t really see it with his mask on.

Actually, you think to yourself, you shouldn’t, you replied to him in your mind, only to merely smile.

Not that he’d ever know.

Not now, that is.

You cannot really remember when was the first time you met PIERRO, as he was already there when you were born, and he had been a constant in your life. Maybe you almost forgot a time where he wasn’t present and by your side.

Nonetheless, you’ve always seen him as quite intimidating, but also somewhat of a protector. At one point, you had heard your mother tell him to guide you on the right path. And since then, you’ve always noticed him whenever he was near.

And one time, you had the courage to walk up to him and actually talk to him.

He was… rigid, so to speak, but he entertained your talk and the conversation, so it didn’t stop you from trying to speak or have a chat with him every once in a while, sometimes even in his office where you just talk his ears off and he listens. He indulges you, you think. And honestly, you were just there because you were quite curious if he’ll ever tell you off or scold you in any way—just like your mother would whenever you try to initiate long nonsense chats with her.

But he doesn’t.

And maybe… you’re still trying up til this day, and he already knew your intentions whenever you try to talk to him.

“Your Highness… you’re here,”

“Ah, yes, I have another story to tell you!”

“I have reports to finish but,” he pauses, sending a look to you, “I shall listen to whatever you have to say.”

Reblogs and comments are appreciated~

Taglist is on the reblogs!

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Kenjaku x F!Reader, past Geto Suguru x F!Reader

word count: 3.6k

about: you become kenjaku's captive to ensure that he will not miss his opportunity to fight the strongest after his return from the prison realm. the temptation of being this close to the last remaining earthly fragment of the man you once loved, suguru, proves too much to resist and you give into your desires despite the hole they're bound to leave.

contents: NSFW - MINORS DNI. DARK CONTENT WARNING, MAJOR MANGA SPOILERS FOR CH 236 AND BEYOND | dubcon, manipulation, violence against reader, asphyxiation, kidnapping | reader is a sorcerer and went to school with geto and they had mutual feelings for one another, mentions of religion and references to god, kenjaku retained some of geto's memories and knows reader through them, reader has breasts and descriptions of vaginal anatomy are given, rough piv sex with little prep, reader is referred to as "girl", major character death (off screen).

notes: i've uh....been going through some things lately LMAO tbh i started this awhile back before thanksgiving but have felt weird about posting it and it very nearly stayed in the "between me and god" folder so i held back but today i said fuck it. if you read, thanks and i hope you enjoy!!!

header art is by jenny holzer and divider is by @/cafekitsune ♡

“The old occupant of this vessel was very fond of you, you know?”

How dare Kenjaku mention Suguru so casually, as if he were a tenant to his own flesh and bone instead of its rightful owner? 

“You know nothing about him,” The words are full of venom, flying from your mouth not unlike the way you spat at the curse user’s face two days prior to now. He chuckled when the fluid hit his cheek, wiping it off without a second thought. “Or me.” 

You felt so guilty for spitting at his face, the face of a man you once believed that you loved, that you wept until you began to dry heave atop the futon mattress in the room that has been designated as yours. It’s the same bed you rest on now, duvet over your knees that are hiked to your chest. It’s a means to protect yourself from any vulnerability but it’s truly no use. If Kenjaku wants to harm you, he will.

He has insisted your accommodations be comfortable since arriving three days ago given you are collateral and not a captive, his own clever wording for the situation, but you’re more than aware that if you were to attempt to escape from the cage that you’d hit the window just as all birds hungry for a taste of freedom do. There are no cuffs, chains, or bars but your freedom is no longer yours. It is a prize to be won pending the defeat of the man standing across from you in the doorway, shoji door open beside him, flowing hair as dark as the midnight sky brushing the backs of his elbows.

For years you wondered what you’d do if faced with Suguru again. Would you strike him, insisting he deserved it for all the hurt left in his wake? Ask him why in a scream so powerful your shoulders would shake with the weight of your fury? Perhaps you’d forgive him, as you’d been taught and encouraged to do your entire life, and those mumbled prayers cast to the God you believe in above you would be true for the first time since they’ve left your treacherous lips. 

“I forgive him, I hope you can, too.” You have begged God aloud and silently since sixteen years old. You have always been devout in your faith despite abandoning most of the tenets that make someone a believer, your lack of devotion not enough to deter you from selfishly asking for absolution for a man who you know deserves none.

God’s answer is clear when faced with the fact that this is not Geto standing in front of you. There is no less mercy a person can be shown than their body being used as a sick prop after their death.

The space where his thoughts and dreams and hopes used to lie is occupied by something far worse than just visions of a world purified through means of violence, a place where people like you could live without the threat of death and sacrifice to keep others safe. Granted, that wasn’t exactly a noble purpose either, but at least it didn’t threaten your life the way that whatever lives inside of his skull does now.

“I know more about both of you than you think.” 

Kenjaku’s words drip with smugness and your stomach flips. The natural responses of your body to a man who looks and sounds just like Suguru make you sick but you cannot focus on fighting them off and keeping yourself protected at the same time, you have to simply make peace with the butterflies in your stomach that feels like something is punching you in the gut over and over again. He dares enter the room and you scoot further up the futon, hitting the wall behind you and leveling a glare in his direction.

Suguru’s body reacts to you, as well, something that Kenjaku planned long ago to use to his advantage. It started with hazy dreams, a face he recognized as yours drifting through them, your thighs and your lips and your skirt. It’s a version of you a little younger, a little warmer - less edgy than you are now. You are sharp and finely tuned to harm while the version of you that lived in Geto’s mind will forever stay soft, a freshly unfurled rose.

“All you’ve done is vandalize him,” you accuse and he shrugs, dressed in a cotton yukata rather than the robes he stole in addition to the body they dressed. It’s easy to imagine another life where this is Suguru and you are you and he’s coming to your shared bedside, kneeling on the ground the same way Kenjaku is now while he invites himself to the only space you currently have as your own.

“You’re a smart girl, don’t play dumb.” Your glance moves from the doorway to him, disgusted by how brave he is getting this close to you. “Perhaps I’m simply using the power this body holds in the way he was too cowardly to attempt.”

Despite your current state of sitting in nothing but a yukata yourself, you are physically strong from spending the last decade of your life as nothing more than a glorified weapon to use in the fight against evil. Even if your Cursed Technique would be unlikely to have any effect on the man, you could be a difficult problem for him if you wanted to be, yet you sit and do nothing but wait and refuse to respond to his words. He chuckles at your stubbornness and reaches across the bed and your body to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger. He shifts your head until you’re staring directly at him and a smile crosses his lips.

You do not fight him off.

“Tell me, sorcerer,” he starts and you swallow, bottom lip quivering. You want to reach out and slap him away, to scream and kick but your body stays still, the only place blood is pooling between your legs and in the heat of your face. “Where are those teeth and claws you were so eager to show me on your first night here?”

He reaches his thumb upward and presses it against your mouth, stopping the shake with a single touch - your body’s natural reaction to a man you are now certain you loved, given it’s the only explanation for your behavior. It’s a form of trust, the muscle memory of a kiss he gave you in your dorm room at the school you once shared. The first night you were spitting and hissing, now you’re so placid.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

Stubbornly, you shake your head and Kenjaku chuckles again, pulling his thumb away from your lip but maintaining the grip on your chin. You know this is not Suguru, it’s as clear as the stitches across the forehead of the practically empty vessel that further closes in on you. He moves silently until he’s mere inches away from you, his head hovering over your knees that are still pulled against your chest. You watch him with narrowed eyes, tucking against yourself tighter than you ever have as a means of comfort, but it does nothing to stop him from lingering.

“I could just make you speak if I wanted to,” he warns. The power in this situation belongs to him.

“What’s the point of fighting you? You’re going to do whatever you want with me anyway.” You admit, defeated. Whatever fight you had left in you was smothered weeks ago during the attack on Shibuya. Even the release of Gojo is not enough to fill you with hope for the future. It’s pointless to keep fighting when the only outcome is going to be loss.

The shaky sound of your voice makes the curse user move closer to you and you shut your eyes tightly, refusing to look at him lest your body continue with these inexplicable natural responses. Heart pounding against your chest, it’s inexplicably frustrating that it cannot seem to separate what your brain knows is true from what your body wants to believe.

It isn’t him, you scream within the confines of your own mind but it does not prevent your palms from feeling clammy and the squeeze of your inner thighs against each other to provide some relief against the heat in your core.

It isn���t him. It isn’t him. It isn’t him…

Chanting the words internally, you open your eyes and are met with a pair of golden ones staring directly at you. They’re the same that stared at you in a dorm room a decade ago although they’re missing the warmth they had back then, dripping honey sweetness hidden in the irises turned to tar. 

“You’re right, I can.” He nods and dark hair falls over his eyes, catching your eye. Your stomach turns when you spot the stitches across his forehead but your gaze returns to his so quickly you can hardly think about it. “But will it be what I want or is it what this body desires, I wonder?”

This piques your interest and Kenjaku tilts his head to the side inquisitively, dark hair sweeping over your knees and around your body. It feels like a curtain, a veil like the ones you are so used to using to keep people safe and ignorant and outside of your world of sorcery.

“What do you mean?”

A smirk is the response you are granted and he moves closer to you, one of his hands reaching for the duvet you’re using to cover you. Pulling it back gently, your robe covered body coming into view and once again, you make no effort to fight. With this barrier removed, he runs his palm over the outside of your thigh. Muffling your whimper at the touch, you attempt to hide your face in your shoulder but he stops you, still grasping onto your chin and still holding your gaze.

“Interesting.” 

His hand travels from the outside of your thigh to the insides and you gently spread them to allow him access before realizing what he’s searching for. Attempting to cut off his access by closing your legs, he holds your thigh in place and lets his fingers dip lower along the soft skin. You quiver and shake beneath him like a leaf clinging to the branches of a tree in winter, desperate for somewhere to remain, and those fingers inch closer and closer to your core. He stops when he feels the coarse hair covering your mound and dares to dip a single fingertip between your folds, raising his eyebrows when he feels the arousal seeping from you. 

“I knew it,” he whispers so low you wonder if you were even meant to hear it but the way he gazes at you, like that of a man starved, tells you that the words were meant for no one but you.

Your hand shakes as much as the rest of you when you finally lift it from your side, reaching out to him and taking a strand of hair between your fingers. It feels just as you imagined it would, silk between your digits, and a breathy sigh leaves you before you begin to cry. Dropping the small strand, you choose to reach out toward his forehead and use your hand to block the stitches covering it.

“Suguru.”

You babble the name like it is precious, your lip quivering just as it did before, and the evil man shakes his head, capturing your wrist with the hand he just removed from your chin. He lowers your hand enough that you can see the stitches unobscured.

“Kenjaku, actually.” 

He lowers your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles, amused when you squirm where you sit, practically delirious with lust and confusion. You do not want this, at least that’s what you tell yourself while parting your legs further and panting, chest heaving with every breath.

Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to untie your robe and it falls off of your shoulders, exposing you to him fully before he can blink. This is something he remembers seeing in one of those dreams but you look different than whatever the imagination of a man who was infatuated with you was able to come up with during his loneliest hours. It amuses Kenjaku that he is the one to see you like this, bare and willing. 

Tracing down your belly and lower, he stops between your legs which makes you whimper. You’re so desperate to be touched, to pretend he is someone you’ll never have the opportunity to love as properly as you could have if you’d both lived a different life, that your hips actually arch off of the bed eagerly. It should embarrass you but you are past the point of humiliation, willing to be fucked by evil incarnate just for the sake of a taste of Suguru Geto.

“Pathetic little thing,” he coos and you say nothing in return. You’re well aware of your failings as a sorcerer and a human being as his fingers spread your labia to get a glance at what you have to offer. For a moment, you consider praying for Suguru again; to selfishly beg God to make sense of your own actions but you know that he no longer has mercy for an ill behaved member of his flock. You will simply accept the consequences, whatever they will be.

His thumb brushes your clit and you moan, tipping your head back and toward the ceiling. You wait for the sensation of pleasure to climb through you again but it doesn’t come until you look downward again, eyes fluttering open.

“Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Too afraid to look away lest it keep you from the only good thing you’ve felt in who knows how long, you keep your eyes glued to Kenjaku’s face while his hand works between your legs, spreading the slick from your cunt toward your clit and back down. If you could just shut your eyes, you could pretend, but they’re open and glued between your legs, watching every feathery stroke of his fingers through your folds.

Kenjaku’s cock hardens against your thigh and for a moment you dare to feel powerful knowing you aren’t the only one surrendering to the most base of your needs. He drops your hand and reaches for the tie of his robe, opening it and giving you the only look you’ve ever been lucky enough to get of Suguru’s bare body.

Scarred, honed, a tool - just like yours. If you weren’t so lost in the moment, the lifetimes you have imagined for years would be playing through your mind.

You gasp and knit your brows together, bucking against the increasing pressure of Kenjaku’s fingers while he brings you back to him and out of your head. Whatever you’re thinking about doesn’t matter when he inserts a finger inside of you, only testing how wet you are with no intention of preparing you for his cock. 

When he’s satisfied with how wet you are, he withdraws his finger and you whine. The sound is the most he has heard from you since the first night and it makes his eyes widen in interest. He shifts until he is standing between your spread knees and the realization that this is really happening hits you at once, your face flaming with desire.

“You’re so impatient.” 

The curse user tuts at you with a roll of his eyes and spreads your legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the width of his body. He’s broad in shoulder and hip and you bite your lower lip when he runs the head of his cock through your folds, following the same pattern of his fingers. You expect the teasing to last longer but it stops abruptly. Before you can take a breath to prepare yourself, his cock is buried to the hilt inside of you, and you gasp with wide eyes, shocked. 

“As good as you imagined?”

Words come to your mind but do not form enough to leave your mouth while he thrusts roughly, your body jerking violently against his. It’s painful, the size of him with little prep in conjunction with how he uses your body as nothing more than a glorified place to take his aggression out, but all of the numbness within you thaws and for the first time since you realized Geto was no longer Geto in Shibuya, you feel. 

It’s hard to name all the emotions you are experiencing because they blur into something barely comprehensible. Pleasure and pain and bone chilling sorrow, the kind that makes tears silently drip down your face while he takes what he wants from you. He doesn’t bother to play with your clit and there is no need to, the joy you’re taking simply from being used by Suguru’s body enough that the knot inside of you is slowly beginning to unravel. 

Skin on skin punctuated by his low grunts and your whines fill the small room and you are so lost, you lift yourself halfway up to meet Kenjaku and consider kissing him. Would it be close enough to kissing Suguru that you could eventually justify it or would it just sully the one good memory you have of him? 

You don’t have long to think about it before you are pushed back down to the bed, one of his hands caging your throat and keeping you pinned to the bed below. A reminder that this is for his pleasure and not yours although you feel yourself coming closer to the edge than you were just moments prior, shutting your eyes tightly. All of the motion inside of you stops, the hard thrusts of his cock ending, and your eyes shoot open.

“Remember what I said. Eyes on me or you get nothing.”

Nodding, you keep them open and he begins again, pace rougher than before. You can do nothing but grunt and struggle to breathe, his cock carving out space inside of you that didn’t exist until he entered you. Every kiss of his tip against your insides knocks the breath out of you and finally you cum in a strangled moan, walls quivering around his length. 

His hand inches further up your throat and squeezes experimentally. As expected, you do not fight back and he takes his indulgence with a grin, choking you with varying degrees of pressure and feeling your cunt spasm around him when he surprises you by tightening his grip. 

You like this. You want this.

He leans forward and shifts his weight to his arm and hand, finally spilling inside of you with a deep moan. Warmth fills every inch of you and you wish that you felt as full in your heart as you do in your cunt but a void remains.

Kenjaku’s other hand slides up your body and wraps around your neck, both of his palms resting on either side of your neck and fingers splaying over your throat. It’s dangerous to let him have this much access to any part of you that he could possibly crush but you do not move, tearfully looking up at him and sniffling. He increases his pressure, not enough to harm you, but enough to make you work hard and you realize how easily he could just…end this.

“Please kill me,” you beg while struggling to breathe, realizing what you’ve done now that the afterglow of orgasm can no longer protect you from the cold hard truth. 

You are a betrayer. You slept with the enemy to sate your own selfish desires and death seems almost too kind to beg for, yet you do.

“Kill me.”

Your face turns in shade and your vision is dotted with darkness, a miserable end to a miserable life you consider, but at least it will be over. The pressure of Kenjaku’s hands around your neck continues to increase until you are certain you are taking your last breath, lungs aching until he abruptly stops. He glances down from where he rests above you, half swollen cock softening and letting his cum leak out around the tip of it that is still inside of you and onto the sheets below. 

“I will not give you the satisfaction of death until you give me the satisfaction of watching you fight for it.” 

Removing his hands from around your throat completely, he glances down at the pressure indentions of his fingers with a smile. Your eyes flutter shut, you’ve passed out from lack of air, and he admires the heap he has left you in, reaching for your robe and wiping the remnants of his release and yours on the corner of it.

Nobody is coming to save you, a secret Kenjaku knows that you are not yet aware of. Satoru Gojo is dead, defeated at the hands of Sukuna. The news broke this morning and he was preparing to come to your room to let you know until this little distraction occurred. He had an inkling you were susceptible to Suguru Geto’s charms even from beyond the grave but he had no idea it would be this easy, your slumped form resting on the futon beside him. He pats your head as one would a treasured dog, long and loving strokes that do not stir you, your bare breasts swaying slightly with every breath you take.

The new world is on the horizon and he may keep you around as a plaything for a little longer than he originally intended.

[shanastoryteller]

I was wondering why Necromancers in SIAT are called mothers? I don't think it's been said why, and considering the story has male Necromancers, I don't get it?

free yourself from the gender binary and maybe you'll be less of a drag

anyway

He’s a necromancer. He’s a Mother. He knows how to come home.

He’s a Mother, and that gives him an edge over other necromancy practitioners

Draco pauses. “Is being a necromancer genetic?”  “Maybe? Being a Mother isn’t, though,” he says.

"So whoever did this specifically didn’t want us to know who they were and knows that you’re a necromancer, if not a Mother,” Draco says. 

If Slughorn were out there haunting someone or something, he’d be easy to find. Even a normal necromancer could do it, never mind Mothers that have worked with him for decades.

i could keep going, but i assume you get the point. all mothers are necromancers, not all necromancers are mothers

as to why i went with the term mother, what better title is there for one who commands life into death? who controls death and lives with it in a way that others do not? the first time you were brought into this world, there was screaming, and there was blood. the second time, mother holds their breath and no one bleeds

this post puts many quotes i'm fond of in the same place

In many ways, women are death’s natural companions. Every time a woman gives birth, she is creating not only a life, but a death. Samuel Beckett wrote that women “give birth astride of a grave.” 

— Caitlin Doughty, from Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: And Other Lessons from the Crematory

The part of sexism that bores and angers me most is the culling, the simplification of women into Hallmark cards of femininity. When I became a mom, no one ever said, “Hey, you made a death. You made your children’s deaths.” Meanwhile, I could think of little else. It’s scary to think of mothers as makers of death, but it sure gives them more power and complexity than one usually finds.

— Samantha Hunt, interviewed by The New Yorker

[agentstarkid]

SAUDADE ✦ DR3

“Saudade” is a Portuguese word that carries a profound and complex meaning, often described as a deep emotional state of longing or nostalgia. It transcends mere language; it's a state of being, an emotion that seeps into the soul and lingers like an echo in the heart. It encompasses a mix of emotions, including melancholy, yearning, and a sense of emptiness, often accompanied by fond memories of past experiences or relationships. In the context of love, "saudade" captures the bittersweet essence of missing someone deeply, even when they are physically present or long after they are gone. It is the ache of the heart that comes from loving and losing, a poignant reminder of the depth of connection and the enduring power of love's impact on our lives.

✦ pairing: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ type: social media au

✦ fc: becky g

✦ warnings: female!reader, latina!reader, age gap, language, lots of angst, heartbreak, drama, internet meanies, mentions of mental health struggles, assholes.

✦ pit wall live: uh holi, loves 👀 sorry for the delay, but I hope you guys enjoy this chapter 👀 it's a little short but as present for not posting in March, I present to you: a bonus chapter hehe okay, byeeee *runs away as fast as she can*

─── The Joker & The Queen (Masterlist)

JANUARY 1, 2022

yourinstagram

📍 Latinoamérica

liked by danielricciardo, badbunnypr, rubendias and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram Starting the New Year on a bright note! ✨ Wearing yellow to channel optimism and positive energy as we dive into this new year. 💛 I'm so so so grateful for all the love and support you've shown me throughout the past year and I'm excited to continue this journey together in 2022. Here's to another year of growth, laughter, and cherished memories! Siempre para adelante, mi gente! 🎉

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danielricciardo Mi reina ❤️‍🔥

user1 I wanted to take this space to thank you for the happiness you have brought me over the years. Your music or your works of art have been a constant company in moments of joy, sadness and everything in between. Your talent is enormous, but so is your ability to connect with your fans in a unique way. Your humility and gratitude show that, despite the success, you are still a close and authentic person. Thanks for all that you do!

camila_cabello Good god woman have mercy

kylieminogue you are sensationally exquisite 💛✨

xtina my angel ❤️

user2 jawline could cut a diamond 🥶

user3 muy buena artista pero sobrevalorada respecto a su belleza, y no digo que no sea guapa sino sobrevalorada

user4 you could wear the rainbow if you wanted and that would still not make you relevant or give you any talent

user5 she always tries too hard

user6 watch out for Regina George in sheep's clothing

anitta Feliz ano novo para você Rainha 😘

diplo 💛

user7 the fact that they spent new year's day apart and on different sides of the world speaks volumes

user what? that they both wanted to see their families? grow up

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yourinstagram has added to their story!

⥂ translation: Everything I do and comes out of me it's because I'm feeling it, it's okay if no one else feels the same way. Two people can never ever feel the same at the same time.

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JANUARY 16, 2022

danielricciardo

📍 Perth, Australia

liked by yourinstagram, heidiberger_, natalie_pinkham and 1,562 others

danielricciardo Back seat baby seat bangers 🎶

tagged: yourinstagram

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yourinstagram this is all anyone needs to have a great day ❤️ please send me his manager's contact, I've been looking for a male backing vocal for my next album and I think he can be the perfect choice 😌

danielricciardo yourinstagram ah, you see, he's a really sought-after artist so he's super busy. But I know his uncle and he's interested on the job, only thing is that he likes to be paid with kisses 💋😏 yourinstagram danielricciardo tell him to contact me, I think we will be able to work out the payment details soon 😌

yourinstagram btw how is it possible that he's that big now if I saw him like yesterday and he was this 🤏🏽 small 🥺❤️

user1 is the copying the hand movements for me 😂❤️

user2 so this is how Y/N's future is gonna look like 👀

userA all that's missing is the ring 👀 userB yeah danielricciardo stop being lazy my friend 👀

user3 you're gonna be a great dad one day ❤️🥺

♥ yourinstagram has liked this comment

user4 siempre dije que no quiero ser mamá, pero después de ver esto... yourinstagram mi reina quién pudiera ser vos 😮‍💨

user5 coisa mais linda! ❤️

user6 Daniel really sang his heart out to that song lmao

user7 you have really shit taste in music mate

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FEBRUARY 4, 2022

yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo, keleighteller, natalie_pinkham and 1,238,562 others

yourinstagram Te amo con el alma, porque el alma nunca muere ❤️ happy 2 years, mi Danielito 🥰

⥂ translation: I love you with my whole soul, because the soul never dies ❤️

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danielricciardo My forever partner in crime ❤️

user1 cuide a ese hombre yourinstagram, que tu y yo no somos amigas 🫡

user2 oh God I'm so single 😩

mileycyrus so much love and happiness for you both ❤️❤️❤️

user3 THAT LAST PHOTO IT'S GIVING I'D MARRY YOU WITH PAPER RINGS 😭 SO 1 + 1 = THEY ARE GETTING ENGAGED‼️‼️

userA I'm so calling it, it is happening 🤩

user4 LIL BLAKE SIGHTING 😍😍😍

hermusicofficial favs

user5 she was talking seriously when she recorded A mi me gustan mayores 😅

userA será que aplica el "A mí me gustan más grandes. Que no me quepa en la boca..." con él?? 👀👀👀 yourinstagram userA los besos que quiera darme? 👀 sí, aplica 🤭😈 userB OMFG Y/N???!!! LMAOOO iamdannaschwarz yourinstagram that's enough internet for you today 🙅🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

chloestroll did he really cook? 😂

yourinstagram chloestroll he did! and it was really good actually 🥰 I felt ✨spoiled✨

oliviarodrigo mom and dad 💜

user6 the first pic is making me feel something. i don't know how to put that something into words though 🥵 *bi panics*

userA JUST A BIG FUCKING OOF I GUESS 🥵 userB they served cunt as per usual userC I grunted and groaned and moaned 🫠😩

user7 I'm so tired of them omg yeah, you're "in love", we see you, now stop shoving it at our faces every chance you have 🙄

fioamato congrats Sandy and Danny 😜💖

iamdannaschwarz Baby and Danny 😜💖 itsvittoriasousa nah, more like Troy and Gabriella landonorris Belle and the Beast 😜 yourinstagram landonorris aww did littol landow nowis just called me beautiful? 👀😊 landonorris nvm I take it back. Fiona and Shrek* 😌 yourinstagram landonorris well that makes you the donkey 😂

user8 every time I remember that there's a 9 year gap between them I wanna puke 🤮

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danielricciardo

liked by yourinstagram, martingarrix, landonorris and 1,562 others

danielricciardo happy 2 years mi vida ❤️

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user "mi vida" brb gonna go chew on a live wire 😭

yourinstagram let's do this for a lifetime ❤️♾️

danielricciardo you have yourself a deal, Chip ❤️

user2 hey God, it's me again...

martingarrix ❤️❤️❤️

user3 these adorable videos ending with daniel squeezing y/n's butt is so dan-y/n core 🥹😝

marcusstoinis congrats, lovebirds ❤️

user4 did they leave their own love lock on the fence? 🥹😭

userA I don't think we'll ever find it, but I'm sure they did 😭

landonorris congrats on putting up with him this long yourinstagram ❤️

joshallenqb 🍾❤️

user5 somethin something "find a beautiful love, make sure they know they are your morning light" playing while the sunset iluminates her and cutting to "and that you'll never let go till the day that you die" while he has his arms around her 😭😭😭

userA THIS HERE IS LOVE 😭 THIS HERE IS LIFE 😭 userB something something he's got a tattoo of that song's title 😭 userC somebody get me a fucking doctor I feel like my heart is about to burst

scottyjames31 my favorite celebrity couple 😌

caamp we love you guys ❤️

user5 grandpa copping a feel 🤢

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FEBRUARY 22, 2022

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MARCH 8, 2022

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MARCH 9, 2022

danielricciardo

liked by mclaren, georgerussell63, heidi_berger and 584,981 others

danielricciardo Better this week than next… Unfortunate to miss the test, but I’m starting to feel better. I’ll stay isolated and just focus on next weekend. Big thanks to Lando & McLaren for the heavy lifting, I owe you some beers (milk for Lando). Appreciate the well wishes from everyone as well.

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View all 164.254 comments

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landonorris get well soon mate!

georgerussell63 speedy recovery danny ric 💪🏻

user did you and Y/N broke up??? please tell me it's a lie

user2 Y/N hasn't liked nor comment yet and it's been 2 whole days since he posted this

userA why whould she? they are quarantining together, she doesn't need to comment or liked every single post he makes. They are probably sitting side by side right now userB userA there's actually rumours that she was seen leaving the hotel in a rush yesterday and fans are already speculating if they broke up

user3 I hope you feel better soon Dan! I know we all wish to see you in action next weekend!!

user4 "milk for Lando" lmaooo i love them your honor <3

user5 this is your year mate don't let any setbacks bring you down 💪🏻

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MARCH 18, 2022

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MARCH 25, 2022

f1wags

liked by 3,474 others

f1wags It seems Danny Ricc has moved on quickly 👀 Just after a week since the confirmation of his break up with Y/N, a few fans have reported sightings of the driver with actress Heidi Berger —who has been linked to him a few times these past months— around Monaco.

The blonde is the daughter of former Austrian F1 driver Gerhard Berger and former Portuguese model Ana Corvo.

This love triangle drama just keeps getting juicier and more complicated! 🔥 What are you thoughts, did the Aussie cheated on his ex-girlfriend as some people say? Did he moved on too fast? or did he do the right thing? Let us know in the comments!

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user I actually feel bad for Y/N, not a fan of hers at all but it must be hard to see the man you were talking of marriage with a month ago, move on from your relationship so quickly and easily. if it were me in her shoes, I know it'd really mess my head up 😕

user2 idc if he'd not been with Heidi physically while being with Y/N, it's still treason to be emotionally involved with someone else while you're in a relationship. I believe he already had feelings for Heidi while still being with Y/N because how the fuck can you move on from a whole 2-year relationship in two weeks?? I only hope Y/N is doing okay and that she gets to heal and find someone better for her 😞

user3 you can try to defend him with all the arguments you can think of but at the end of the day, he is still just a rich man. It's funny how you've been all pointing fingers at the innocent while playing lawyer to the guilty.

user4 I'm a Danny Ricc fan but I think this was too fast too soon, at least have some respect for your ex who stood by your side through the highs and lows of the past years, smh so disappointed

user5 Get over it already! He moved on to someone better, as he should. Let the poor man alone! He's been single for weeks! He's allowed to see anyone he wants! Stop whining about it, Y/N just wasn't enough, as simple as that 🤷🏽‍♀️

user6 I'm actually super worried for him, he's not himself lately. Just a few weeks ago he was calling Y/N the love of his life and now this? All jokes aside, I think he's self-sabotaging. He looks like a shell of his old-self, he is not smiling as bright as before, he's super quiet now and if you pay attention to him during interviews, he fidgets a lot and sounds so insecure when asked about his driving. GO TO THERAPY BABE!!!

userA you are reaching, babe! lmaoooo he's fine, he just got tired of that snake 🤪

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APRIL 22, 2022

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MAY 3, 2022

danielricciardo

liked by corey_wilson, michaelitaliano, mclaren and 269,852 others

danielricciardo Miami. We made it.

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user i guess this is the confirmation we've been waiting for

user2 how can you move on from a 2 year relationship so fast??

user3 ugh men are so fucking unbelievable

userA jokes on all those whiny fangirls of his, turns out it wasn't he who deserved better, it was HER.

user4 he is a joke just like his driving lmao

user5 Heidi is so much better than that wannabe singer, she was just a plaything for him 🤣

user6 I'm so glad you opened up your eyes daniel

user7 so all those rumours have been true smh y'all were attacking Y/N nonestop for the smallest interactions with the opposite sex, and none of those rumours proved to be true but I'm not seeing the same energy directed towards him now that the rumours about him were actually true!

user8 I just know that the break up album is gonna be a banger 🔥🤪

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MAY 10, 2022

yourinstagram has added to their story!

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JUNE 19, 2022

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⇥ youtube search: falling (harry & y/n's duet version) - love on tour, london night 1

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JUNE 22, 2022

yourinstagram

liked by markhoppus, phoebebridgers, rubendias and 2,145,873 others

yourinstagram burned other memories just to make room for these ones 🎞️❤️‍🔥

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user HI MOTHER!! WELCOME BACK WE MISSED YOU ❤️❤️❤️

user1 we love to see you living your best life!!! 🥰

user2 Can't wait to listen to the full version of the song she plays on the last slide 🤩

userA Daniel Ricciardo is shaking in his boots right now 🤪

machinegunkelly 🖤🥀🤘🏼

user3 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

markhoppus kid what are you holding on your lap and why it isn't on my liquor shelf yet? 🤨

yourintagram sorry dad 😔 it's on its way to your doorstep right now 🤪 skyehoppus yourintagram make sure you are also included on the package arriving at our door, it's been too long honey ❤️ userA “dad”??? she knows mark hoppus?? what did i miss?? 😳 userB userA they have an on-going joke that mark found her wandering around and adopted her as one of the few blink-182's children along alex gaskarth and jack barakat from all time low 😂 she's super close with his family, too! I remember she collab on a song with him, but they didn't released it and then it got leaked, she did play it at a couple of concerts tho userC userB is it 'thank you & goodnight'? 👀 userB userC YES! I miss her pop-punk era 😔 that version she did of 'little lion man' was soooo good!!

user4 Baby Iza is on her way to hit a bitch (Daniel)

alexalbon I like pizza too 👀🍕

lilymhe sorry baby, bad bitches only 💅🏻

user5 OMG OMG WE'VE GOT HARRY, TAYLOR AND Y/N IN ONE POST?! THE HOLY TRINITY RIGHT THERE 😍

harrystyles ❤️

user6 I've got my two mothers in one photo 😭❤️

taylorswift Ms. Falls-a-lot 👻❤️

yourinstagram I swear I'm gonna scare you too next time 🙄😂

lilymhe walking among legends on this post 🙇🏻‍♀️ #blessed 🙏🏻

user6 I'm so happy that she's finally back ❤️ we need to flood her comment section with love 🥰

user7 Drama queen of this generation. Always playing the victim & tricking people into thinking that she's a mental health advocate. You're way too far from that. Cancel her 👍🏻🐍

user8 the caption: ICONIC 🔥

userA the taxi driver is twisting on his grave 😂🤪

user9 the old Y/N can't come to the phone right now, why? Oh 'cause she's DEAD! 😎

user10 most untalented celeb ever

fioamato where was my invitation? 🤨 yourinstagram iamdannaschwarz

iamdannaschwarz you got one, you just decided to ditch us for mr. i-have-an-art-gallery 🤨 yourinstagram iamdannaschwarz yessss expose her, dannita! 🤭 No te hagas de la víctima, mi corazón. We've got the receipts 😎🧾 fioamato I hate you both 🙄

user11 you should be ashamed to post a photo holding a tequila bottle when so many young people follow you. You should be a role model to them, not another alcoholic celebrity 🙄

user12 babygirl I hope you are doing better and feeling great! You deserve so much more ❤️

userA she's as fabulous as ever while he's floping big time, I call that karma 💅 userB not many people know how to truly appreciate the unique sazón and sabor of a Latina 🔥 homeboy couldn't handle the heat 🤭

user13 I know that album is gonna be 🔥🔥🔥

user14 attention seeker no wonder you always get dump for someone better

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JUNE 30, 2022

Video — CLEAN SHEET KINGS | STONES & DIAS

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─── Please don't forget to reblog and/or comment! ♡

[shuenkio]

𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 🎞️

Paring: Enha X male!reader

Genre: fictional.

Cw: obsession behavior, swearing (likely similar to yandere)

Summary: The richest boy's down bad for you so bad.

இLHS : He would be the mafia's son. Randomly saw you one day during his mission, grabbed his attention and wanted to get to know you more. Day by day, his obsession grows an unhealthy amount eventually until he wanna make you his without having no one to take you away from him. Despite being a male it is even better for him.

"Money, power, fame? I can give you everything even my body, just by being mine"

இPJS : He would be the gangster's son. However he didn't take the same path as his parents, instead he was the best chief in the country. He might look nice on the outside but he's also wild. You were one of the customers in his restaurant who visited regularly eventually he caught a feeling, but not you. He asks his parent worker to spy on you every day. Until.

"I can cook, I can clean but I can also be your husband too, my knife is sharp enough to cut someone if they're trying to steal you away from me! I fucking like you!"

இSJY : He would be the lawyer's son. He likes going out, to bars, girls, and clubs until his eyes lean on you, a poor new worker barista who working at his favorite bar. He immediately loves at first sight but in a naughty way. Not only he's stalking you, but he is already planned about how his life with you.

"Poor didn't suit you, married me you'll get everything you want darling, idc even if you have a dick"

இPSH : He would be the surgeon's son. Despite being his neighbors you often visit his house to give him company as his parents request. He is no longer feeling lonely and being loved by you, growing insanely jealous even when you're with your family more than him, yes. Until one day, he locks the door.

"There's no leaving until you take me as your boyfriend >:("

இKSN : He would be the psychologist's son. He might look lovely, kind, and cute but deep down he can also manipulate you. He has grown fond of you ever since you accidentally kissed his cheeks. He realized he was in love or more than love. Until one day he fools you by saying he was injured at his apartment, you rush to see him but when you step inside, he immediately locks the door and breaks the room access card into pieces.

"Give your BFF a hug, I missed you too much, my sarang(love)"

இYJW : He would be the 5-star Officer's son. The adorable face of him not only makes him look pitiful but also drives you to trust him. Fortunately, his planned work. You trust him too badly until he takes full advantage of you. You open your eyes to realize you're in his room.

"Scream it m/n my father is an officer, I could just use one trick on you, you're over but not unless you kiss me on my lip, now!"

இNSR : He would be the Data scientist's son. He likes a lot of things but he chooses to stick to his hobby for the time being, a photographer. Just a simple kindness from you during the heavy rain, you offered him an umbrella, His world turned pink unexpectedly. Ever since then his love for you grows dangerously until his room is full of your pictures.

"Pictures are not enough, I needed you to be here, my beautiful art"

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ CRD TO ALL PICS&DIVIDERS

🥹 SUNGHOON FF LATERALLY BLOW OUT MY PHONE Y'ALL LIKES IT SO MUCH? THANKS YOU !

[autistichalsin]

Do you ever just... think about how Halsin's life at the Grove was not only lonely and full of pressure, but also so full of expectations that the image Halsin had to cultivate of himself was nothing like who he was?

Everyone at the Grove only seemed to know of him as a leader, scholar, healer, and powerful Druid. In truth, he hated the first, understood the importance of the second but did not actually enjoy it, was proud of the third but again, didn't consider it part of his identity, and rarely acknowledged the fourth as anything but a way to serve nature.

Even in the way they addressed him it quickly became clear it wasn't who he was. Halsin NEVER shows any comfort using the title of "Master Halsin"; it was a title the others used for him that he reluctantly went along with. The instant he leaves the Grove, he never uses it again. He's just Halsin.

He may have been fond of some of the Druids at the Grove, and most of the others were fond of him right back (hell, even Kagha, if she is pushed away from the Shadow Druids, and then learns that Halsin perished in the goblin pen, laments that she will really miss him)... but none of them saw him. What they saw was a mask he had to wear, a role he had to play, because he had to. Because he was forced to and no one wanted the role back. (And seriously, he was desperate to give it up. It took his Grove nearly being taken over by the Shadow Druids and Halsin having to leave to help end a potentially world-ending threat for them to agree to send a replacement. You can't tell me the guy didn't try to pawn the position off before, only for his Circle to say "no".)

The refugees see him as a protector (which he is) but as the leader, as the most powerful one. The Druids see him as a lot of things- a leader, good or bad; some see him as weak and a failure, others see him as beyond a reproach and someone to put on a pedestal; they see him as the BEST healer of all, the most POWERFUL Druid they know, the SMARTEST, the STRONGEST, an "elf with the presence of a bear"...

But the one thing he can't be around them is "just Halsin."

He couldn't even trust any of them with the full truth when he discovered the altered tadpole; Nettie had suspicions, but he didn't tell her the full truth, he immediately swore off telling Kagha with the reasoning that she would demand answers he couldn't provide (expecting too much from him), and in fact, he was so worried about this that he split his notes into two.

So then along comes the player, who first finds him in an extremely vulnerable position- being tortured by goblins. Halsin says in as many words that he didn't think anyone was coming for him. Halsin didn't think the people he was charged to lead and protect cared enough for him to mount a rescue mission- and he was tragically right. (Granted, for some it was a matter of fear, inexperience, etc, but the fact remains.) The player rescues him, treats him as an equal despite this (and that's what he wants, he wants to be an equal with some expertise to share, not a leader), helps him to correct what he sees as the biggest mistake of his life, possibly pursues a romantic relationship with him where they are kind enough to not even hold it against him where he loses control of his powers and accidentally polymorphs during sex, and, in the newly added post-Drow scene, offers him guidance and counsel on something he's been unable to talk about for over 100 years, admitting that he lost perspective on it for just this reason. He had no peers and was forced into a leadership role so stressful that it made him romanticize his past as a sex slave in his own head because he was that desperate to not be responsible for the wellbeing of others, to not be relied on- even if the alternative was being treated as literal property and his autonomy repeatedly violated. That's how desperate he was.

Halsin's entire arc is how he's been lonely and isolated, always in different ways, but still the same thing. Misunderstood and scorned for his size, or kept as a prisoner, or with few friends, or losing his peers, or being forced into a leadership role with no equals or friends to take care of him, or so focused on his leadership duties that the chance to have a family (which he wanted desperately) passed him by... just one thing after another.

And then people wonder why he falls in love with the player so fast. The player is literally EVERYTHING he has been wishing for for over 100 years, not just in the romantic sense, but for everything. All he wanted was someone who would let him be HIMSELF, no pressures or responsibilities he was woefully unequipped to fulfill.

[anxious-lee]

Ask || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: what can I say? they inspire me. you know what else inspires me? the agonizing lack of content there is for them 💀

Ship: Huskerdust

No beta, we die for our craft

Word count: 1,720

------

One wouldn't typically think of obnoxious behavior as out of character for Angel Dust, but this was a tad excessive. In a way that spells out exactly what he wants, if you know what to look for.

Angel had a very particular set of needs, some being more overt than others, but one facet of his desire was not known to many. Ironically, his incessant jabber of licking holes and getting punished weren't nearly as vulnerable as this information was. He never told his nightly flings, he never told Valentino, and he rarely became close enough to anyone to be able to share.

Angel Dust, the world-renowned porn star, loved to be tickled.

Now, some might say this could very easily fit into his menagerie of BDSM kinks. But that's what was so humiliating. It wasn't a kink. It wasn't sexy. It was romantic. Even downright fond.

His need would be fulfilled from time to time as partners or clients sought playfulness, but he wouldn't bring up his appreciation of it. Merely went along with and pretended to hate it. How far that was from the truth.

The obvious downside to this, of course, is that no one is available to satisfy your lee moods. Like today, for example.

The minute Angel woke up, he knew today was going to be one of those days.

The thoughts were driving him mad. He needed someone to hold him and touch him and take away his control in a way that had nothing to do with pain or power. It was about trust and love and sharing and fucking christ, does he sound like a hippie.

The thought of telling Husk did cross his mind, seeing as how they were now a month into their relationship, but he quickly banished it to where all the other scary thoughts go. Surely, he would laugh at him or look at him with disgust.

He couldn't risk it this time.

Not with Husk.

Not with him.

Fortunately, there was an option B. You see, he already loved to get on people's nerves, and that happened to be the most successful way to get tickled. As retribution.

The hotel guests, of course, didn't pick up on Angel's different behavior. They merely gave him a smirk or an eye-roll, but nothing more. Except, of course, Husk.

----

Angel sauntered over to the bar counter where his pussycat was busy at work polishing bottles.

"Mornin', Whiskers. Did ya dream of me?" Angel said, batting his eyelashes.

Husk chuckled. "Yeah, I did. It was the noisiest dream of my afterlife."

Angel gasped in mock offense and pouted. "I thought you liked our little chats!"

"I do when I'm not working. Just sit tight until I'm on my break, we can go cuddle as much as you want then, okay?"

"But that's sooo long from now!"

Returning to his bottles, Husk half-turned away from Angel, who was growing antsy.

He waited a couple of moments, then very swiftly poked his bartender in the arm.

"Baby, I can't talk right now, I'm busy."

Another poke.

"Fuck, can't you wait 5 minutes?" Husk sighed with a hint of annoyance.

It seemed to be working. One more push should send him over the edge.

Angel plucked the rag out of Husk's paw and held it out of his reach.

Husk finally turned to face his boyfriend.

Was this it? Was he gonna snap and tickle him senseless for pestering him?

The cat leaned forward, grabbed the rag, and went back to his task after giving Angel a tired glare.

It was obvious to the spider that his lover wouldn't bite. Defeated, he left the bar to find something else to distract himself with.

----

It was a few hours later when Angel found himself cuddled up next to Husk watching a movie. It was some crime boss flick, something-or-other. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't paying much attention to it. The incessant thoughts of laughter and smiles spun 'round his head, keeping his focus off of the gunfight happening on-screen.

On impulse, Angel started playing with Husk's ears, plucking and pulling and flicking in any way he could to get a rise out of him.

"What the- stop! I'm trying to watch." The cat said.

"I ain't doing nothing~"

Next, Angel gave a teensy little push to Husk's tophat, just enough to put it off-center.

"If you're that bored, why'd you pick this movie?" Was the reply.

"Who said I was bored? I'm very entertained," Angel said.

And finally, he twirled his finger around the tail beside him like a spaghetti noodle and gave it a tug.

That seemed to do the trick. Husk's face whipped to meet Angel's.

"What is going on with you? You've been pressing my buttons all day. What's the matter? You feeling friskier than normal or somethin'?" Husk was confused, and annoyed certainly, but more than anything, curious. This wasn't typical Angel Dust behavior. This was a cry for help. In regards to what, he had no idea.

Angel certainly wasn't giving him any help. "I don't know what you're talking about," he quipped with a smile tugging at his lips.

Husk watched him for a moment, then seemingly gave up and returned to cuddling in front of the movie.

It only frustrated Angel more. What was with this guy?! It didn't normally take THIS much effort to instigate a good tickle fight! And the cuddling made everything worse. Like waving a bone in front of a dog. He was given just enough touch to drive him crazy but not enough to satisfy his hunger.

----

Several days had gone by, and Angel's lee mood persisted, and Husk still wasn't taking the bait. The spider began to wonder if he would ever get tickled again at this rate.

One night, the two sinners were sitting in bed together, being on their phones or reading. It was quiet nights in with each other like these that they treasured more than anything.

Angel had lost almost all hope of actually getting tickled. No matter what he tried to get Husk's goat, nothing worked. But that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

Husk was so enraptured by the book in front of him that he didn't notice the mischievous look creeping onto his boyfriend's face.

Angel snatched the book out from Husk's nose and dangled it in front of him. "Why would you want to look at some ol' book when you could be looking at meee~?"

Husk gave the usual huff and eye-roll.

Angel waited for a moment, then set the book aside in order to sprawl across Husk's lap with his hands supporting his head.

"What's the matter, Whiskers?" He emphasized the provoking nickname. "Am I botherin' ya?"

Angel pursed his lips and gave the kitty's nose a boop.

For a moment, it was silent as Husk looked down at his lover in what looked to be...

An epiphany.

Then came the chuckle.

"You know, if you wanted it so bad, you coulda just asked," Husk sultry said.

What?

What did that-

Angel didn't have time to finish the thought before Husk's claws were dancing nimbly on his sides. He squealed in startlement, and the giggles came flowing out. As much as his body wanted to worm and wriggle away from the touch, his heart was exactly where it wanted to be. Where he needed to be. But what Husk had said-

"Whahat does thahahat mehehean?!" The spider queried.

"Don't act like you haven't been trying to provoke me into ticklin' you this whole time. Honestly, it all seems kinda obvious now," Husk laughed, "Can't believe I didn't piece it together sooner."

Wait, he knew?!

Abort, abort, abort!

"I dohont know whahahat you're tahahalking abohohout!"

"Relax, I ain't judging," Husk assured warmly, "I've heard of far stranger things than a pesky little brat who wants to relinquish control every now and then. 'Sides, I can't say it's not adorable." His voice took on a more teasing tone at that last statement.

And Angel noticed it.

His face began burning hellfire red as the claws at his sides still scribbled furiously, and his giggles now elevated to laughter.

"Ihihit's NOHOHOT!" Angel cried indignantly.

"Uh huh. And what do you call this?" Husk darted his hands up to the spider's neck and scritched and scratched into every nook and cranny he could reach.

Glass could shatter at the pitch Angel shrieked. His chortles returned to snickers and giggles as he tried to invert his head into his body like a turtle. What's more, he even began to 'tee-hee'. Like a coquettish little school girl. How humiliating.

"Seems pretty cute to me~," Husk cooed with a saccharine smile.

Angel couldn't tell if he loved it or hated it.

"I've never seen this smile on you before! Maybe I should tickle you all the time."

Definitely loved it.

Husk ran his claws down from his neck to his shoulders all the way down to his underarms.

The spider's arms snapped with the strength of a bear trap. He screeched with all his might and began to cackle. This was the most pleasant hell he's ever been in! His face-splitting grin wasn't just from all the laughing. He hoped Husk knew that.

The cat in question jumped at the loud noise. "Woah! Didn't realize this was a bad spot. You okay down there?" His fingers slowing for a second.

Angel could not nod fast enough.

Husk could feel his icy heart melting. Christ, the things this boy did to him. He'd keep this up all night if it kept Angel happy and free and forgetful of his troubles.

"Alright, just let me know when you've had enough," and with that, Husk tickled his pits harder than he did before, "But next time, just ask for this instead of purposely getting on my nerves. I'd rather just give you the love without the headache, okay baby?"

And he did.

It wasn't easy for Angel, but part of this new dynamic was learning to trust each other, hoping that the other would catch them when they fell. Every moment they spent together proved that they would.

But for now, all that was left was Angel's blissful laughter, Husk's light-hearted teases, and five nosy tennants listening in from beyond the door.

-------

The more tickle scenes I write, the harder it is to think of new things to say lol 😅

Thank you all so much for the kind feedback, you guys are why I write ❤️

[talesofesther]

tangle me in all your broken pieces (and watch me stay) | ch 1

Loki x Reader

Summary: An Asgardian god has just threatened your planet and you were called in to provide a little help. What you didn't expect was to develop a strange soft spot for said god, who hid more pain behind his cold facade than you thought possible.

A/N: Yes, this is chapter one. Yes, there are going to be more chapters. But one important thing to keep in mind with this particular series, is that the updates will not have a fixed schedule. This is a story I will update whenever I have time to write in between my other projects. Anyhow, I do hope you enjoy this random idea I had. <3

Word count: 4,2k

Masterlist

Fury came looking for you as a fail-safe. That was the simple way of putting it.

One of S.H.I.E.L.D's facilities had recently been attacked by someone who came from outside of your world; he'd taken what Fury called the Tesseract, twisted the minds of Agent Barton and Doctor Selvig, and worst of all, threatened to take over Earth. So when Fury came knocking on your door, on a rainy Saturday, you didn't have many options other than agreeing.

Rain pattered on the windows of your small apartment, the weather was rather cold today. You picked up two mugs from the cabinet, placed a bag of tea on each, and added hot water.

"I need you with me," Fury told you, taking the mug you handed to him.

You sighed, taking a seat on the armchair of your living room, "you're putting together a group of heroes. I'm not a fighter, uncle Fury, you know that."

"And I'm not asking you to be," he shook his head softly, leaning forward to place his mug on the coffee table after he took a sip, "if anything, I'll make sure to keep you away from any fights." He looked at you for a beat, and then; "but Loki has messed with the mind of one of my best agents, I cannot take that risk again, and you're the only one who can make sure it doesn't happen. Or fix it, if it does."

With that, you couldn't argue.

Your powers were something you had never asked for, never wanted, they simply happened. Your fourteen-year-old self woke up one day being able to pry into people's minds at will. You could feel their feelings if you wanted to, search recent memories if you focused long enough, and occasionally, do or fix much heavier damage. The full extent of what you could do was still somewhat of a mystery, now and then you caught yourself doing or feeling something new; just like that day when a stray cat had scared the shit out of you and you ended up exploding the can of soda on your hand.

After that incident a couple of years back, you had agreed to let S.H.I.E.L.D. study you just long enough to find out you had something along the lines of psychokinetic and telepathic abilities. Fury then had also told you that your big heart had given you empathic abilities as well; it was intended as a lighthearted joke, but you weren't so sure it was a joke anymore.

Because right now, you could feel hints of Fury's desperation just by looking at him. You nodded, "Yeah, alright. Give me a few minutes to pack."

─── ·❆· ───

S.H.I.E.L.D's Helicarrier was impressive, to say the least. It was an enormous aircraft that could literally disappear in a matter of seconds. Your nerves were still high even though you'd been aboard for a few days.

The main control room was the heart of the hive, so to speak. The place where most agents walked back and forth between the rows of computers, all overlooking the massive glass windows at the front of the aircraft. You stood just behind Fury's main control panels, leaning back on the big glass table. "Will Tony be coming too?" Your eyes roamed over the hustle and bustle of agents around you.

"He will," Fury didn't take his eyes off of the screens as he spoke, "was supposed to arrive with agent Romanoff, but we all know he likes his entrances."

A fond chuckle escaped you. Tony was a friend, you'd met him a few times because of Fury, he'd been a great help in figuring out your… condition, and you kept close contact with him ever since.

Out of the big windows in front of you, you watched as the ocean slowly drifted from view the higher you went into the sky. You could feel the familiar tingle in your stomach as you gained altitude fast. Maria Hill approached Fury not long after, informing him you were high enough to disappear, and so you did.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention and you turned around to see Natasha, Steve, and Doctor Banner walking in. A small frown appeared on your features when Steve handed ten dollars to Fury, but you didn't comment on it.

"Doctor Banner," Fury walked up and extended his hand for Bruce to shake, "thank you for coming."

The scientist looked around with the eyes of someone who hadn't known real peace in a while. You could feel a heavy wave of apprehension and uncertainty coming from him. "Thanks for asking nicely," he answered.

As they spoke, you walked over to Natasha, a small smile coming to your lips, "hey Nat."

Her green eyes lit up as soon as they caught sight of you, she was already opening her arms to pull you into a hug. "Hey, how have you been?"

You hugged her back just as tight, swinging gently from one side to the other. "Alright, you?"

"Well enough," she pulled away with a smirk already on her features and bumped your shoulder with her fist. "It's nice to have you around for a change, even if it's because the world is at risk."

You raised your hands in a half-hearted gesture of surrender while biting back a chuckle, "Point taken, I promise to visit more."

Fury called for your name and you turned to him, "I don't think you've been properly introduced to Doctor Banner." He gestured to his side and you reached out to shake Bruce's hand with a polite smile. "Banner, this is my niece."

Still holding onto your hand, he raised his eyebrows in a mix of excitement and surprise. "The telepath?" He looked from you to Fury.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "That's me." You wondered if the people here saw you as one of the heroes too, which of course, you were not.

"I've read your file, the range of your abilities is remarkable."

Fury placed a hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "Why don't you show Doctor Banner the lab he'll be working on? You can entertain his curiosity then."

"Of course," you buried your hands in your pockets as you tilted your head towards the door, "follow me, Doc."

The laboratory was like a playground for scientists. Filled with all the kinds of machines and computers one could hope for, surrounded by bright white walls and even brighter artificial lights that made your eyes hurt.

As the night stretched on you ended up hanging back with Bruce in his lab. His interest in your abilities didn't die down, but you found that speaking with him about it turned out to be quite easy. He was very smart, there was no doubt about that, having extensive knowledge in areas you didn't even know existed. But he was also kind.

It didn't take long for Fury to come to inform you that they had gotten a hit on Loki's location, Germany. You shared a look with Bruce then, knowing that all there was to do now, was wait.

─── ·❆· ───

"So you can just tell what everyone is feeling all the time, and manipulate those very feelings if you want?" Bruce leaned back on one of the workstations, a look of pure bewilderment in his eyes.

You chuckled, pushing yourself up and sitting on top of one of the desks. "Well, kind of. I can feel emotions if I want to, yes. Memories even, if I can focus on the person long enough. But the manipulating part is trickier," you tried to explain to the best of your abilities, fumbling with the sleeves of your black cardigan. "I can't… take away people's emotions, feelings, but I can ease them. Dull anger, or sadness, for example. But Fury believes that if there's something else intruding on someone's mind, I'd be able to counter it. That's why I'm here."

"That's fascinating," Bruce scratched his chin in thought, "it's almost like a mix of telepathy and empathy."

You hummed, "That's been my experience, yeah."

"What about the…" Bruce gestured around, and somehow you knew exactly what he was talking about.

A smirk came to your lips. You lifted your hand, and tiny white sparks danced between your fingertips, they were barely there, looking almost like a trick of the light. Suddenly the glasses that had been resting on top of Bruce's head flew to your grasp.

A genuine laugh escaped him while he muttered; "remarkable". You couldn't help but join him as you handed him back his glasses. It felt… nice, to have someone genuinely, innocently appreciating what you could do.

Suddenly, the sight of several guards walking past the laboratory's windows caught both of your attention. In the middle of them walked a man with slick black hair, wearing some sort of armor in black, green, and golden, and a devilish smirk on his lips as he looked at you.

Your gaze locked with his for a mere second, and a gasp fell past your lips as you took half a step back. Your heart was in your throat, because even through the glass windows, you could feel an immense pain squeezing your chest and suffocating your lungs. There was raw anger there too, desperation, loss. But the pain overpowered them all. And they came from him. Loki.

You gulped, forcing your gaze away so you had a chance to breathe. "They caught him," you mumbled, still feeling lightheaded from the punch he'd just dealt to your soul.

"Yeah, they did." Bruce's voice sounded far away still.

─── ·❆· ───

Loki wasn't the only new arrival, his brother Thor was also here.

You decided to hang back while everyone discussed how to proceed, leaning against the wall of the main control room as they sat around the glass table. From the camera images displayed on the screens, you could see Loki speaking with Fury, from inside the glass cage that wasn't quite built for him; he spoke with a tone of superiority that sounded like a defense.

Thor explained something about Loki having an alien army he would bring to Earth, and that he was trying to build another portal with the help of Doctor Selvig. You heard bits and pieces, after all, you weren't here to strategize attacks. Instead, your mind drifted to what you'd felt when you briefly locked gazes with Loki. His mind seemed… messy; as if he wasn't quite the only one there.

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki." You heard Banner say. "That guy's brain is a bag full of cats. You could smell crazy on him."

"Have care how you speak." Thor spoke up, "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he is my brother."

"You mean he's never been like this before?" You finally spoke up, pushing yourself away from the wall and taking a few steps towards Thor. Your voice drew the eyes of everyone in the room for an instant. "That he's not himself?"

"Yes, Loki has always been one for mischief but never like this. My brother is not evil." The god explained.

"He killed eighty people in two days," Natasha added, raising an eyebrow at Thor.

"He's… adopted."

"I think you might be right, about him being beyond reason," you walked up to stay beside Thor, "when they brought him in I could briefly connect with his mind and… I don't know, it wasn't right."

"You mean to say he's been enchanted?" Thor looked down at you, sparks of hope dancing around him.

You could feel everyone's unwavering gaze on you as well. Your eyebrows scrunched in thought and you fumbled with your sleeves to ease the nervousness. "Kind of, yes. I felt as if he wasn't the only one in his own mind, there was something else there, twisting his thoughts and drive." You glanced up at Thor and then at your teammates around the table, "I may be able to fix it."

A rather loud call of your name captured your attention then. You turned around to see Tony Stark walking in, along with Phil Coulson.

"You always did have a heart of gold, picking up strays and insisting on fixing broken things," the billionaire said with a smile, walking up to you in that smug way only he could pull off, as he already opened his arms.

You mimicked his smile, naturally falling into his hug.

"How have you been, kid?" Tony asked while rubbing your back. He pulled away and kept a hand on your shoulder.

"Pretty good, considering an Asgardian god decided to invade my planet." You smirked back at him, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

"And now you're playing the I can fix him card, is that what I'm gathering here?" Tony pointed a finger at you, comically narrowing his eyes.

You sighed, averting his gaze, "I'm serious, Tony. If there's something invading his mind, don't you think I'd be able to counter it? That's- that's the whole reason why I'm even here."

"I think," Tony began, "you'd be able to do that, and much more. If you actually trained your abilities like I suggested-"

A groan escaped you.

"But you haven't done that, so it's a shot in the dark." He shrugged.

"If there is a chance to help my brother, I would take it," Thor spoke up, looking around to gauge everyone's reactions.

"And what if there isn't?" Steve asked, gesturing with his hands, "You said it yourself, you can't be sure. Is this a risk we're willing to take?"

"We won't be taking risks," you were quick to reassure him, taking a step forward so you were able to lean your hands on the glass table. "All I want is a chance to speak with him, nothing more for now."

"Absolutely not." Fury walked in, his steps large and meaningful as he walked up to stand before you. "You are not getting anywhere near that lunatic."

"I can accompany her to assure her safety," Thor offered.

"Thank you, Thor, but I need to go alone." You said, then turned to look up at Fury. "You called me here to help. Let me help."

Fury tilted his head, an annoyed frown coming to his lips. You knew you'd won.

"He's in pain. So much that I could feel it through the glass windows of the lab, uncle. He's not alone in his own mind. I just wanna talk to him." You pleaded. Why you suddenly cared so much about the very person who was threatening your home, you didn't know. Maybe you did have a heart that was too big for your own good.

Fury stole a single glance towards Stark, and after the latter nodded, he turned back to you. "Five minutes," he leaned just a tad closer, looking you straight in the eyes, "nothing more."

─── ·❆· ───

You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, held it in your lungs, and then exhaled. You stared at the door that led to Loki's cell, giving yourself yet another pep talk. And then you pushed it open.

The round, glass cage was somewhat intimidating to look at. Built to contain and to kill, if needed. The artificial lights inside were bright, a contrast to the metal walls of the outside. There was a single bench in the back of the cage, but other than that, it was bare.

Loki had his back turned to you as he paced from one side to the other, hands clasped behind his back, as if waiting for something. His black and green attire stood out under the blinding lights.

Your steps were slow and quiet, you couldn't deny the racing of your heart, punching against your ribs in fear and anticipation—yet you kept an emotionless facade.

You could tell the exact moment that Loki felt your presence. He stopped pacing, waiting for a beat until, ever so slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes were ice cold, a pale blue that made you shiver; his smirk was nothing short of devilish, worthy of a person who knew held all the cards in his hands. Loki looked at you up and down, and took a few steps forward so he stood right against the glass, as close as he could be to you. His gaze never once wavered.

"And who would you be?"

Silent. You kept silent for several moments. The nails you previously had piercing the skin of your palm in nervousness loosened their grip, a soft breath went past your lips, and your shoulders relaxed.

No, there was no reason for you to be afraid of him. Well, that would be an understatement. After all, you could easily sense the raw power and magic flowing through his veins. But that didn't instill fear in you, and neither did his empty threats. Because right now, as you finally looked him straight in the eyes, you easily slipped into his mind, his subconscious, his memories, and feelings.

More than anything, he was hurt; had been bleeding for long. But you were glad to confirm your suspicions, he was not alone in his mind; there was a plague in him, twisting and piercing into old wounds, worsening what was already there; it drove his anger and instilled fear and desperation in him for what would happen if he failed.

Looking into his eyes, you didn't feel fear. You felt sympathy.

At last, when Loki had started to look at you with a deep frown, you told him your name.

"Agent Barton hasn't told me about you." Loki's eyes roamed your features, undoubtedly determining if you were harmless or not.

"I'm afraid we aren't that close," you told him simply, keeping your voice gentle.

A low chuckle escaped Loki's lips then, "Did you come here simply by imprudent curiosity then?" He raised his chin higher. "Have you any idea who stands before you?"

You pursed your lips and took a step closer to him. His words sounded a little muffled to your ears as you struggled to focus. There was a faint burning sensation behind your eyes, a pressure in your head that spread to your entire body until it reached your fingertips. It was both familiar and unfamiliar. You'd never used your powers to this extent.

Loki had a strong mind, there was no doubt about that. Yet briefly, you could catch glimpses, a blurred array of memories even Loki tried to push away. You watched his fall from Asgard. His descent to what he thought, hoped would be the end. Until he was found. And then there were screams of pain and cries for help that nobody answered until he was forced to give up. Nothing was clear, everything twisted and scrambled, but enough to snatch your breath away and hold your heart in a vice grip.

He felt it, you know he did. The gentle whispers of you in his mind. You could tell the exact moment. All emotion and color drained from Loki's face, he took several steps back and away from you. For the first time, he wore an expression other than smug and confident. His bright eyes were wide and glimmering under the artificial lights, lips hovering open and quivering. It was a blink, a fraction of a second and then he was back in control.

"How dare you?!" He all but growled, fists closed tightly on either side of his body as erratic breaths went past his lips and nostrils. "Who do you think you are to try and pry into my mind?"

You felt as if there were cotton balls in your throat as you gulped, your vision went a little blurry. You shouldn't be feeling this way for someone who had literally threatened your home, but all you could hear right now was that same voice of his, begging for mercy.

Without a physical connection, Loki was able to keep you out of his mind pretty easily.

You sighed heavily, closing your eyes for a beat to recompose. You looked up at him then, unable to help the softness of your features. "What happened to you?"

Loki hesitated, even though he tried to hide it. He blinked, stumbling over his words; "I think you should be more worried about what I will do to you and everyone you've ever loved, you insolent, pathetic mortal."

His threats were emptier than you thought they would be. He felt exposed and was desperately trying to defend himself.

You shifted your gaze to the cameras around the room, biting into your cheek while you considered just how stupid and reckless it was what you were about to do. With your mind, you turned the lock on the door you'd just come from. In one swift stride forward, you were able to flatten your palm against the glass walls that held Loki; and with just a bit of struggle, you had him pushed and pinned against the bench on the far side of the cage.

"What do you think you're doing?" Loki snapped, he fought against the invisible force holding him, trying to get up and lift his hands, but to no avail. "Release me this instant."

"Sorry," you walked backward, keeping your eyes on him until you reached the control panel and pushed the button that opened the glass cage, "can't do that."

"If you think for one minute that your sorry excuse of magic can hold me down-"

"I know I can't." You told him as you carefully walked inside with him. He was strong, much stronger than you, and sooner or later he'd overpower you. "Not for long at least." You stood in front of him, looking down at his enraged form sitting down on the bench. "But maybe just long enough."

Right now, as Loki looked up at you with nothing but anger in his cold eyes, his lips in a thin line, and his eyebrows pulled together; you could say you felt a little scared.

Slowly, you raised both hands. Your fingers shook as you halted your movements just short of touching him. "I promise I just want to help you," you told him quietly, your eyes never leaving his.

"I will make you regret ever walking into this room," Loki spoke through gritted teeth, the muscles on his neck straining as he tried to break free.

"Maybe," you breathed, struggling to keep him in place, before unceremoniously cupping both his cheeks with your hands.

Loki opened his lips to, most likely, throw another insult at you, yet his words died in his mouth.

With your skin touching his, your soul entangling with his, you were finally able to enter his mind freely. You closed your eyes and made quick work of dissipating the plague infesting his brain, severing the connection he had with the creature that had tortured him, and freeing his subconscious from its influence and enchantment. It was harder than you wished and easier than you expected, pulling at the strings of your heart while you worked your power through him, but it was done. Loki's body was still healing from what they'd done to him, and now his mind would follow.

You also couldn't hold yourself back from dulling his pain and anger while you were at it. Trying to offer just a bit of peace to his troubled soul.

You opened your eyes again with a heavy gasp escaping your lips. Your lungs lacked air and you could taste copper on your lips. Blinking several times, you took a single glimpse at your faded reflection on the glass walls and noticed that a steady line of blood was trickling down your nose. You'd nearly gone past your limits.

With your hands still holding onto Loki, you risked a look down at him.

It was like a wave washing to shore, soft and calm after a heavy storm. His eyes slowly faded from a pale blue to a gentle green, glistening under the light, pupils blown wide as he kept his gaze fixed on you. A soft breath went past his lips and his eyebrows softened, it was as if for a brief moment he forgot where he was, and simply basked in the absolute relief of having his mind finally free. He stood bare before you.

A single tear trickled down his cheek and landed on your thumb. You brushed it away tenderly, and you thought he almost leaned into your touch. He blinked lazily then, and you saw his walls gradually coming back up.

You felt lightheaded, and with Loki coming back to himself, you took it as your cue to leave him.

Stumbling on your feet, you made your way out. You pushed the button and closed the glass door again.

Loki hadn't moved, even though you were not holding him in place anymore. He stayed seated, knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the bench and kept his gaze ahead, unfocused.

Once again, you touched the glass wall with your fingertips. It was indeed pathetic, that you felt a surge of protectiveness, of worry even, for the god who had threatened your planet.

"For what it's worth," you began quietly.

Loki's eyes drifted up to your face. His expression unreadable.

"I'm sorry for what you've been through." With that, you gave him a tight-lipped smile, and left.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi I saw your Astarion x Tav HC recs are open and personally my Tav is a half elf Selûnite cleric.

I just think its a really sweet matchup- a vampire, a creature of the night, and a cleric that always preferred the night to the day. I’m forever mad that we don’t get to tell him that we prefer the moon to the sun when he apologizes for the fact that he’ll never be able to spend time in the sun with Tav.

Just my two cents I needed to share with someone haha

(can't stop thinking about Astarion praying to Selune. I don't think he will become a devoted selunite but he can find some faith within him)

The text of the prayer comes from Selûnite Prayer Book

Astarion x Cleric of Selûne! Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion is beaten and tortured.

His flesh wounds bleed and his bones are broken.

It's a neverneding hell he can't escape, because he is already dead.

Silently, Astarion prays.

His split lips whisper the words of prayer he once heard in a temple.

Dearest Selûne, our fair maiden, weave our hearts with threads of silver, guide us with the light of the moon, and quench us with the purest of tears.

Astarion doesn't have much hope.

Besides Selûne a human goddess, and Elven gods have long abandoned him.

But-

His prayers are heard this time.

A human woman suddenly feels the urge to go outside. There she meets a young elf - and spends a night with him.

She never asks his name and, in the morning, they part ways forever.

But the woman doesn't leave alone.

She carries a half-elf child in her belly.

Probably, the woman never wanted to have a child, maybe she doesn't want to have a mixed baby or she simply can't care about the newborn.

Or maybe she dies at childbirth like many women do.

Anyway, a little half-elf finds their family among the Clerics of Selûne.

You grow up, knowing no other family but your brothers and sisters in Selune.

With a very firm belief, you are born to serve Our Lady of Silver.

Eventually, you are sent to Baldur's Gate - to join the fight against the Shar adepts.

But you never manage to get to the city as the Mindflayers kidnap you.

Astarion lost all his faith years ago and he doesn't remember ever praying to Selûne, though seeing someone so devoted rubs him the wrong way.

Gods never heard him when he was tortured and abused. Why bother?

But you catch his attention. Maybe it's your willpower, your leadership skills. Maybe your looks. You kind nature.

At first, you are scared of Astarion. Selûne condemns the undead and necromancy - vampires are considered the pure evil who desecrate the world.

But-

No one objects that Cazador is a monster. But Astarion?

He is a thinking feeling creature! He didn't choose this "pure shit". What are you supposed to do him?

No. You know the answer, though some of your sisters would consider it heresy.

Astarion has a choice. If he chooses the path of evil, you will be his enemy. You are a Cleric. You know what is right.

But should he choose a good path, you will be on his side.

And you will do anything in your power to help him.

You give Astarion you blood. You give him your body. Your compassion, your kindness.

You mention him in your prayers.

Astarion doesn't say anything to you about your faith but you know he isn't fond of it.

"I prayed to all the gods, including the Moonmaiden. No one saved me."

You made a deal, as people of different religious views do. He respects your faith, you respect his right not to have one.

Post-game you keep being a Cleric planning on rising through the ranks in the church.

You are a half-elf - you inherited ambitions from your human ancestors.

Astarion is still hesitant - he doesn't want you to spend your life in shadows with him.

"Astarion, I am a Cleric of Selûne, not of Latander. I love night more than day and the Moon more than the Sun. I will be fine"

You will forever remember the shock on his face as he realizes Moon shines for the undead, too.

You travel, helping the Selûnites to restore their organization.

One day during your prayer you notice Astarion standing on his knees with his hands in a gesture of adoration repeating the words after you.

Shadows taunt us. Hear our prayer! Shadows stalk us. Hear our prayer! Shadows wound us. Hear our prayer!

He mostly does it because he knows you like it.

You like when he joins you in your rituals and prayers, when he visits temples with you.

It makes you happy seeing him praying and he does it more and more often.

But one day a weird idea comes to his mind.

He prayed to Selûne once. Many years ago. After one especially brutal torture.

What if-

What if she heard him?

What if she sent him his savior? Her servant, her cleric, her devoted Selûnite?

What if is this half-elf he loves so much, whose body he worships, whose blood is so divine - is the answer?

You wake up to him kissing you. His face is red with tears and he mutters the words of gratitude.

From that day, he changes a bit. It's not like he is a man of god - he is still too rebellious to be a part of the church.

But every cleric of Selûne knows that Astarion the Undead is the man any Selûnite can rely on.

There are many rituals he can't partake in but as they say - Moon shines for everyone.

Astarion starts wearing the Selûnite light armour which looks very beautiful on him. Together you go into the most dangerous places - because you have your own undead to save you.

And every time you go to sleep (even if before that you've had the wildest sex possible). You pray while holding each other in your arms.

Selûne, thou with radiam loom, mend our hearts with threads of silver, heal us with drops of morning dew, and sooth our souls with softest starglow.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

[grapefives]

FUN IS LOGICAL | HC

senku x gn!reader

set in ishigami village + volleyball player reader + fluff + light angst + light humor

as we know, senku isn’t very… sporty… fit… mm

“I’M DONE!” he heaves as he lays flat on the ground.

you huff, “we haven’t even started a match! all we’ve done is teach you the stances and-“

you go quiet when you know he isn’t even listening, his body is literally still as a dead body.

with a defeated, glum sigh, you walk away, teasingly walking over him to who knows where.

for certain, he’ll go back to his blueprints and try to please everyone except you.

first he saves ruri, then works night and day to prove how good his intellect is. it’s tiring, being on the side line.

speaking of side lines, you missed doing everything in your power to not have the ball go there.

you missed the thrill of running around, tensing your muscles for the ball’s impact and making up strategies to win

you sigh at the fond memory.

“so,” you jolt at someone’s voice, not having realized you were sitting on a rock and staring into space.

“kohaku,” you say with a gentle smile, not really in the mood to talk to anyone.

“what’s wrong? you seem pretty defeated, did you fight with senku?”

“hm? no, no we didn’t fight,” you shake your head.

“then?”

you turn to stare at her, fondly. “i don’t know man-“

“i’m a woman!”

“-i just miss playing volleyball. the thrill of it all. scraping your knees, your elbows when you fall from saving the ball. knocking into a groupmate and just… spending hours playing with friends… being competitive… i miss that.”

“volleyball…” kohaku mumbles, “is a game? sounds like a battle.”

you laugh, “almost! a battle to win and.. ah man,”

“woman.”

“i miss it.” you say, staring up into the sky. “i ask senku for just a moment…” you frown, “he has his own thing, something he loves. i don’t mind helping him, i know this is the best for humanity but, i just wish i had volleyball as my escape again.”

kohaku frowns, “what’s stopping you?”

you give her a look, “i don’t really have anyone to play with, senku made this ball for me and just gave it to me like he’s trying to get rid of a child.”

“that’s rude.”

“i guess,” you shrug.

“i still don’t get how you to are together,” she says honestly.

you smile, “me neither.”

she sees you sigh, looking anywhere with a saddened smile. “you know,” she starts, “while everyone appreciates the new things senku is showing and providing us, there’s no harm in learning games. after all, it’s something someone invented, right? something for people to also enjoy?”

you stare at her, surprised at this. “well.. yes-“

“then teach us! there’s lot’s of people in the village that would love a good competition! i’m sure sure of us warriors would be up for it!”

“are you serious?” you asks, heart racing with excitement.

“duh.”

and you stand up, following her back to the village. you see senku once more in his little world, a world you barely fit in.

but that’s okay, you’re looking forward to something more.

“volleyball!” you hear kohaku yell, “i dare you all to learn it and play!”

“hey, don’t force them-“ you try.

“it’s a game!” she grins.

“we have responsibilities, kohaku,” one of the warriors said.

“we could take a break,” another one says, “it’s pretty quiet today. “plus, games bring on challenges, no?” he asks you.

“well, yes. absolutely.” you smile, hoping you could at least round up four people.

“i’m down for a challenge!” another pipes up.

and soon, you got your six people, you and kohaku included. it was enough for you.

they were pretty good at listening and executing the practices and the stances. before long, they were ready to play.

it was so exiting, you’re pretty sure you were smiling the whole time, but your face doesn’t hurt.

what made you feel even better was that everyone else was enjoying it! two rounds later and a crowd started to form, mostly kids and teens but there was cheering and clapping.

you were soaring. and your team won.

“alright! guys! it’s getting dark!” gen says with a clap.

“that was great!” you laughed, drenched in sweat.

“water,” kohaku gasped.

“get your water over here please,” gen yells.

“good game guys! y’all learned fast!” you said as everyone ran towards gen.

“or you’re good at teaching,” senku’s voice came from behind.

you tensed, unsure whether to be petty or forgive him for his lack of attention and affection.

“maybe,” you end up saying. you don’t pay him more mind as you try to walk over to gen.

“here,” senku says, grabbing your arm with one hand and the other shoves water in your face.

“oh,” you take it awkwardly. “thanks.”

he stares at you before furiously wiping his hand on his coat.

you spit out the water you were gulping down. “you’re still disgusted with my sweat!?”

he makes a face, “why wouldn’t i be? you’re so sweaty!”

“senku, no one told you to touch me!”

“well i wanted to!” he pauses, “plus, we’re dating.”

“yet you still hate when i’m sweaty.”

“it’s unhygienic.”

you rolls you eyes. and the two of you are enveloped in a slightly stiff silence.

“it’s been a while since i’ve seen you like that.”

“three thousand seven hundred years.” you say casually as you gulp down the rest of the water.

he stares at you, a look you can’t quite decipher. “yeah.” he scratches his neck, looking away. “i’ve always liked seeing you play.” he pauses, “i hope you had fun.”

you stare at him for a second. then you smile, “i did.”

“sorry i suck at that. i know you’re upset.”

“it’s fine, guess it’s just been so long since i’ve seen you that i really wanted to spend time with you.”

“can’t fault you for that.” he says, sparing you a glance. he almost seems ashamed.

“you hungry?” you ask.

he’s about to shake his head but he remembers he hasn’t eaten all day. instead, worked and every now and then watched you play.

as he watched you eye a food cart, he remembers how the two of you would eat at one after school, especially after your practices.

with a smile, he nods and takes your hand, which you grin at.

[thisismeracing]

Twisted Love | MS47

― Pairing: Dark Angel!Mick x fem!reader ― Word count: 3.3k ― Warnings: +18; suggestive content and a quick description of sex (p in v); mentions of a fallen angel, assault, and stalker behavior; description of horror situations and death (but not too graphic). ― Summary: The rule is clear for all celestial beings: to love the Almighty beyond everything. They can’t share the feeling. It is perpetually prohibited for angels to get fond of humans, especially the protector angels. They are the ones who will follow their human on earth and protect each one. Those Angels and the humans are the same pairing throughout time. Mick watched Yn die and come to life in different forms each period, and he fell. In love and from Heaven. Years after searching for Yn, he found her again, and he’s ready to get what’s his.

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“I slithered here from Eden, just to sit outside your door.” — Hozier, From Eden

He knew the rules. He had friends who disobeyed it and had to pay the price: to leave Heaven. And nobody wants to leave the Heavens. Mick never judged them, but he always questioned himself as to why would someone freely give up their position, their friends, their home, and their God, for something that could only be classified as temporary when put side by side with the world known by the celestial beings.

Up until he met you.

Up until he watched you die and come back to life.

Up until he protected you in every lifetime.

Up until he couldn’t resist but visit your dreams.

Up until he finally realized he was in love.

With a human.

Mick Schumacher was in love with you.

A guardian angel was in love with his human.

He was cast out of Heaven by the Almighty who did it with so much mourn and pain, that the other celestial beings almost tried to change His mind. But nobody questions the Almighty's orders. Rules were made by Him and they were meant to be followed. It doesn’t matter if it was one of His favorite angels.

Mick still remembers what he said to him before judgment day.

“Son, you can still regret your sin. You can still change your mind, and the Heavens will forgive you,” the powerful voice echoed around, and Mick kept his head low.

He could only think of you. And how your skin felt against his. How beautiful you looked sleeping. And how angelical your laughter was.

“Father, you always talk about love, so why don’t you let your beings love?” he asks, and though if the question came from any other Celestial the Almighty could read it as some kind of disrespect, it came from Mick, so he only sighed.

“You can love me, I’m your creator, your ruler. I made you the way you are Mick.”

“Then why are you punishing me for following my instincts and feelings? If you created me the way I am, then it’s your fault I’m choosing this path!” he retorted, finally lifting his eyes to the sky. The most beautiful sky to ever exist. The kind of thing that no human eyes would support.

“Enough!” the Almighty’s voice reverberated around the void and clouds. “You’re being cast out of Heaven, son. And your human? She just died. You’re gonna have to find her again. Good luck, Mick.”

And so he walked around the earth, he flew around the sea, he looked at each corner until he could finally find where you were reborn. Where you had reincarnated.

And when he finally did he followed you like a shadow. Just like he did when he was your guardian angel.

And Oh- you were so beautiful, so perfect. Mick loved staying by your side while you worked, spooking a male coworker here and there. He would walk home with you, just observing as you smiled widely to everyone who passed by, how you were so full of life, how you were still the woman he fell in love with. The one he fell for. Quite literally.

–

It was a Friday night, it was a happy hour from work at a bar three streets from your building. You weren’t in the mood to party, but your friends insisted, and your boss was always so adamant about having everyone together, you did not know how to say no to the invitation.

That’s how you found yourself sitting at a barstool, your lips a bit numb from a shot of something you didn’t know. Your body was lighter and the tipsy feeling made you giggle at everything three of your coworkers would say.

Mick was watching from the shadows, a mask of invisibility around him while he assessed the dangers around the place. And his blood boiled when he saw the guy who was eyeing you from the beginning buying you a drink from across the bar, tipping something on your cup before asking for the barman to give it to you.

He transported himself to a dark hallway and walked to you just when the drink was put on the wood counter, the contents of whatever the man had added settling at the bottom of the cup. Mick took advantage of the place where you were sitting and pretended to sit by your side, accidentally knocking your cup.

“Oh- oh my, I’m so clumsy, I’m really sorry,” he used his best mask to pretend it wasn’t his intention. To draw your attention to him.

You turned ready to complain, but the second your eyes met his big blue orbs your voice died down, trapped in your throat along with your heart from how fast it started to beat. He was so beautiful, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander from his angelic face to his white button down, some of the top buttons opened showing just a hint of blonde chest hair. You gulped. He was wearing blue jeans too, and a pair of Converse shoes. What a marvelous view, you thought.

“I can buy you another drink to make up for it,” he suggested after some seconds of silence, and you gulped, before giving him a nod with your head. “I’m Mick, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

He extended one of his big hands and you shared a glance with your coworkers behind you, one of them giving a thumbs up as if approving the way Mick looked. You giggled, and turned your body fully in his direction, taking his hand in yours and feeling the chills run down your body.

“You seem familiar,” you muttered.

“I’ve read somewhere that blonde guys are starting to catch up with the brunettes on statistic numbers,” he joked, lifting just the corner of his lips while his eyes attentively scanned you.

You let out a chuckle, finally touching his hand with yours and stopping for a beat. His skin felt warm, and it was like her whole body was lit up by a simple touch, “I’m Yn.”

“Sorry for your drink again, Yn. Though I think I may have saved you, it looked awful from what I saw,” he pointed to the glass that only had a small sip, the liquid a strange green shade.

You made a face at the contents, “What are you having?”

And Mick grinned internally. You were being forward. You wanted his company. He knew you didn’t usually try to make conversation like this. He knows you prefer your silence most of the time. Knows you like the back of his hand.

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Well, I had a few glasses of gin and cola, but I can totally follow you with beer if you want.” Oh, you were so sweet. And so thoughtful.

Mick smiled and shook his head, “I don’t like beer,” because you don’t like beer, Yn. And I’m the perfect guy for you, “I’ll have gin and cola too, sounds tasty.”

Your eyes lit up, and a small smile graced your lips.

And so he kept you company for hours. Drinking and talking. You were so carefree, laughing at all of his jokes, and cracking a few too, to which he would throw his head back and present you with the perfect view of his milky neck. You so wanted to kiss and lick it.

From his peripheral vision, he saw the guy who tried to drug you walk to the bathroom. Mick excused himself and followed him. His wings were twitching on his back, begging to be set free so he could fly to the highest spot and drop that little shit from there.

When he opened the door, the guy was washing his hands and turned to him, instantly recognizing Mick as the man who stole his victim of the night.

“Your motherfucker, I was-”

Mick furrowed his brows and stared deep into his eyes.

There are things that the human eyes aren’t ready to process yet. And that’s exactly the form that he showed the guy. The form that shut his mouth, making him gasp with utter terror. Mick smiled, closing his eyes and coming back to his blonde skin, eyes now completely dark, inviting the man to jump into the unknown darkness. Something that would certainly kill him.

“Please,” he tried to plead, but nobody messes with you and lives to tell a story. Mick was still your angel. It was still his duty to protect you.

He felt satisfied when the guy dropped at his feet, mind haunted by the worst demons earth could house, and body a few seconds from death.

Mick brushed invisible dust from his shoulders, before walking back to the bar. An enchanting smile on his lips when your eyes found him in the crowd.

“That was quick,” you jabbed and Mick chuckled, fitting his body right beside yours instead of sitting at the barstool.

“I missed you, had to make it quick, or else my heart wouldn’t take it.”

You giggled, turning to him. One of your elbows at the wooden counter. Mick turned too, fitting between your legs that parted just right for him.

Looking up at him it was like you were the angel. His angel. His goodness.

He loved you. He worshiped you. And it felt heavenly when your hands reached for his shoulders, bringing his face down to yours and crashing your lips in a tentative kiss. You flicked your tongue shyly, and Mick almost moaned, holding your jaw and your waist, and opening his mouth for you to deepen the kiss.

The material of his shirt was soft against your palms, and so was the skin of his neck when you moved your hands there and threaded your fingers between his blonde strands.

Mick tasted like alcohol with a hint of something sweet and fresh, and you almost moaned when he sucked your bottom lips into his mouth, grinning into the kiss.

You stayed like this for a bit, kissing here and there, talking, and sipping your drinks. Your coworkers were long gone. And when you got ready to leave, Mick offered to walk you home which for some reason you accepted.

His hand laced yours while you walked down the dark streets, and you never felt so protected in your life the way you felt at that moment.

You had just met him. You had no justification to trust him. To show him where you lived. To ask if he wanted to enter your apartment. But he had such inviting eyes. Such a way of holding you. Of you speaking.

He looked like an angel.

And that angel waited right at the threshold waiting for whatever you would say after you got inside.

Mick wanted to do it right.

He had entered her house so many times, but now it would be different. You would invite him. You would house him. He remembers one of the verses of the Book of Life where the Almighty says that he’s at your door, and he’ll only get inside if you ask him to.

Well, he’s ready to be your everything, but he wants you to invite him to do so first.

You turn around, a hazy smile on your lips, “C’mon, Micky, don’t be shy about me now. Get inside,” you finally verbalize. “This is my house, I don’t share it with anybody, no roommates, I promise. You’re welcome to get in.”

You’re welcome to get in.

I don’t share it with anybody.

He grinned. You share it with him now.

Mick walked inside.

He took his shoes off and walked to your kitchen watching you try to heat some frozen pizza.

That night Mick fed you, bathed you, and laid with you in bed, making sure to leave just before you wake up and pretend he slept on the couch.

That morning he made you breakfast, adding an extra strong black coffee to help you with your headache. He also asked you on a date and kissed you when leaving – which he didn’t do, because he was always there. He wasn’t from Heaven anymore, but he was still your angel, he would always be your angel.

That month he asked you to be his girlfriend. You discovered his surname, and that you had more things in common than you thought that night. You discovered that he was a biker and that he spoke several foreign languages. He had gone to the military, but never into war – his skin was too flawless for someone who had, no scars, except for two on his back, which he explained were from a car accident.

Life with Mick was perfect. It was like he could read your mind. He knew what you needed at the right time, he would order you food when he wasn’t around, and cook for you when he was. He would show up to pick you up at work with flowers. And he would whisper the dirtiest things in your ear while maintaining the purest face.

Just like he was doing now.

“Tell me who you belong to, Yn,” his order was smooth, just like the skin of his stomach that was gliding over yours while he thrusts into you at a slow and deep pace.

You whimper, hands going to his back, fingers finding his scars, and gripping his body closer to yours, “I- I’m yours, Mick. All yours. Only yours.”

He paused with his lips in front of yours, breathing you in right before tasting you. It wasn’t long until you both dissolved into pleasure. His fingers trace your curves, while you lay your head on his chest.

He was so good at aftercare.

He was good at convincing you.

He was good at everything.

You never thought he was good at murder too.

It was a Saturday night and you were walking home from the same bar you met Mick. You had just met with some coworkers and decided to walk home. And you would have texted your boyfriend for him to pick you up, but your phone died, and you didn’t want to bother Mick, he was probably fixing the new bike he got last week.

What you weren’t expecting was a guy to come out of nowhere in front of you. He was huge, and he smelled like alcohol. You don’t even understand whatever he slurred. When panic finally kicks in, and you’re ready to scream, but his hand finds your mouth, while the other one grips your neck.

You remember your mother telling you that you must have a strong guardian angel, remember her telling you about the day you were born, and how they almost lost you. And so you pray for him. Pray for whatever bigger force could hear you.

And he shows up.

Mick shows up.

You called for him. Granted, you had no idea he was a fallen angel, an angel nonetheless.

Your angel.

And you were so innocent, so vulnerable, you needed Mick, that’s what he would tell himself, mainly because he was already following you. He always was.

You reminded him of his portrait in a mirror years ago, back when he was innocent too. Just an angel. One of the Almighty’s favorites.

But he wasn’t innocent anymore. He had fallen. And fallen angels don’t mind killing people that get in their way. So that’s what Mick did. He gripped the guy’s neck and held his face in front of his making sure his own back was turned to you. Mick showed him what the worst things on earth could look like, and how they looked in hell. The guy tried to look away, tried to close his eyes, but he had glanced at Mick’s black orbs, it was too late. Before his heart would stop, before his mind would get too hazy to understand everything, Mick twisted his neck and threw his body to the ground.

When your boyfriend turned to you, your eyes bulged still trying to grasp what just happened. You pointed to the guy on the ground, and Mick just nodded making you even more scared. How could your Mick kill someone? The sweet and kind Mick. The attentive, and soft-spoken blonde guy had just made whatever magic and killed someone.

“Love,” he called, and you shook your head trying to make your legs work. “Don’t be afraid,” he tried to reason, but your mind finally caught up with your body and you started running unsure of where you were heading since he had the keys to your place. Hell, he basically lived there!

“Yn, don’t run from me,” it was one of his soft orders, but this time they didn’t bring butterflies to your stomach but rather made your body prickle with fear because the second you turned your head Mick was flying in your direction.

He had big black wings with some golden feathers. It was beautiful, but scary somehow, just as everything new is.

You ran as fast as you could but it was nothing compared to how fast he could fly, and when Mick reached you he laced his hands around your body and flew up. You watched the gleam on his blue eyes, the way his milky skin seemed lightning, his dark wings enveloping you. He was still beautiful. Still, the whole moment felt like too much and your mind shut on you.

–

Waking up to Mick watching you wasn’t new, but this time it felt different especially because he still had his wings. They had retreated somehow, looking a bit smaller than earlier, but they were still here, and your breath hitched when you realized that it wasn’t a nightmare.

“I- What are you?”

“I’m an angel,” he stated, and your brows furrowed. “A fallen one. I was your guardian… still your guardian somehow,” his simple and direct explanation made you sit up and dig your hands into the bed cushion feeling dizzy all over again.

“An angel?!”

Mick nodded.

“You killed a man…” you shuddered.

He huffed, fingers going through the golden strands of his hair, “He’s not the first.” Mick’s confession makes you scramble to get up, “In my defense, they all tried to do you harm, and I would never let someone harm what's mine.”

He was so calm about it you wanted to laugh in disbelief.

“And you learned it at what… the third book of the Bible? No wonder you’ve fallen.”

His features twist.

“I was cast out of Heaven because I chose you instead of the Almighty.”

You tremble, head shaking in denial.

“Not possible. That’s sick…”

“I love you.”

“You don’t love me! What kind of twisted love is that where you kill people for me?”

He grins, “The best kind. You said so yourself you love me back, you also said you’re mine. You welcomed me here into your life, and I won’t leave.”

You gulped. “Mick, please. No.”

His eyes softened for a second, and you felt for yourself because he somehow looked like your Mick. The one you loved. And if he asked you something you would do it.

“You want me to prey on you?” he smirked. “You know you can’t run from me.”

Your love castle came crumbling down in the blink of an eye and along came your tears rushing down your face.

“Please,” such a mournful sound. Mick shook his head. “You’re a monster!”

“I’m your monster, love. You can’t deny it.”

With his wings fully retreated Mick appeared in front of you. When his lips find yours you try to push his shoulders and bite his lips, but he moans into your mouth, and the feeling of his muscular form and soft lips makes your brain shortcut. You’re open for him like his favorite meal on a silver plate.

“I waited too long for this. You’re mine, and I’ll hunt you down if you ever try to leave me, Yn.”

And your mom was right. You had a strong guardian angel, however, nobody accounted for the fact that he would be obsessed with you. Looking for love you ended up stumbling into something close to there, but also close to hell.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you liked the piece! This is the last one from the spooky pieces I tried writing hehe hopefully this is as good as the previous ones. I wanted to add a huge shout-out to Coffee (my coffee emoji anon here on Tumblr) for proofreading this <3.  Let me know your thoughts on this and make sure to reblog and leave a comment because Tumblr is being a btch and not delivering my stuff properly :( *mwah*.  

Ps. You'll notice that I make a lot of references throughout this piece, but none of them are intended to hurt beliefs or represent my vision of things. This is purely a work of fiction, and I tried my best to avoid using specific elements, choosing to go with "Almighty" in some moments and be a tad vague. I hope this doesn't come across as some kind of disrespect or anything. *virtual hug*

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[finn-writes-stuff]

Jack of All Trades (pt 2)

A follow-up to -this- post, with the rest of the party. The Original Request: Hello. If you're willing and have the time, I jumbly request a TLOVM headcannon for the team having an s/o who steals their weapons and tries to figure out to use them. What would their reactions be and would they/how would they teach them to use the weapons?

Percy, Vax, Scanlan & Grog x Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/ Critical Role

Format: Headcanons

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

Some credit to my lovely partner for giving me accurate info about their specific weapons. As well as a discussion on whether or not you can say Percy or Orthax invented Guns. -Finn

Percy

With anyone else in the party, there's a good chance you may have used a weapon like theirs before. But not Percy and his guns. These are his own inventions, new to Tal'Dorei completely.

They are also powered by exploding gunpowder. He is a little bit worried about letting you handle them.

Hearing a gunshot when he isn't causing it is a deep cause of concern for him, please don't steal his guns, just ask.

Percy will absolutely teach you! It's a chance to have his arms around you as he steadies your aim and stance.

He's a very...specific teacher. You have to make sure he doesn't get too wrapped up in the fine details. Keep him on track with how to shoot and he won't get way into the actual mechanics of the hammer of the gun.

Let him watch you shoot after you get the hang of it. He'll start to understand why you like watching him so much.

Vax

This man owns so many knives. He has a full-out collection of daggers. Hugging him is a dangerous prospect because you never know where one is hiding.

And with all the different daggers, it can't be that hard to steal one or two of them. How could he even notice?

Stealing them proves to be surprisingly hard. He doesn't store many of them, they always seem to be on his person.

But once you manage it, it's quite a lot of fun to handle a truly well-made dagger. In a fantasy world like this, every adventurer has held a dagger, but Vax turns it into an art and his tools reflect that.

They are also insanely sharp. Don't get too cocky with them.

He swipes them out of your hands when he finds you with them, and it's obvious just how experienced he is with handling knives. He can twist and spin them without a glance or a nick.

"Well, well, someone's got sticky fingers, hey love?"

He'll teach you how to throw them accurately and how to spin them without hitting your fingers. He will also tease you while you practice before you get the hang of it.

Scanlan

Scanlan doesn't particularly use a weapon! He's fairly strictly a spellcaster.

That being said, his instruments are likely the next best thing, particularly his lute. And that is his baby, best of luck stealing it.

If you ask him, he'll let you play it and he'll teach you during downtime. He will also serenade you for demonstrations.

He'll be annoyed if you take it without asking though. His music is a source of safety for him as much as a source of joy.

Let him teach you songs around the fire at night and serenade him in return. He won't stop smiling for ages.

Grog

Grog has had some...questionable weapons. Perhaps don't borrow Craven's Edge.

But borrowing his axe or his gauntlets is a world of fun. Even if they might not be well weighted for anyone who isn't as strong as he is.

You will quickly realize how much work goes into swinging his axe and it puts his effortless attacks into a very different light for you.

Grog laughs out loud when he sees you using his weapons, but it's full of fondness and affection.

Even if he isn't exactly academically clever, this is his skill set, he knows how to fight and he does it well. So he's a really good teacher as he corrects your stance and grip.

His teaching method also includes encouraging you to just swing at him, so you'll need a bit of courage and faith that you won't hurt him.

[mathanlin]

Fae/Foster AU where Fae aren’t trusted to speak for fear of making deals — and so each foster family is given the Fae’s name to immediately mute them. Like Tommy, the unwanted Changeling.

And yet the Watsons let him communicate.

By… writing on a cheap plastic whiteboard.

It’s an incredible gift. 

He’s practically giddy with joy, scrawling out words that someone *finally* listens to. And not just anyone — the kindest, sweetest people the world has to offer. 

And selfishly, Tommy wants more. 

“Thank you.”

He holds the whiteboard out to Phil after supper. He’s eaten their food & thanked them, gave them so much power. As if his name wasn’t enough. 

Phil… smiles. At *Tommy,* the inhuman, unwanted creature.

And that makes the silence worth it. 

Almost. 

Because it hurts. 

To not be able to laugh during meals. To not banter with Wilbur or ramble with Techno. (Even when they say, “You’re a great listener, Tommy.” 

Because that’s all he is.)

And to know that if he ever said, “I love you,” it would be accompanied by the acrid stench of the marker.

And silence. Always silence.

That’s what makes him desperate enough to try.

“Hey, mate.”

Phil turns around, halfway through a sink of dishes. His smile falters to a look of concern as he sees Tommy’s hunched, shaking frame.

And that concern evaporates as he sees the message scrawled on Tommy’s whiteboard.

“Can I have my voice back?”

Tommy’s stupid enough to hope.

That maybe a year with the Watsons was enough. That maybe he’d gained their trust through his quiet help & shaky smiles. By being *easy.*

But Phil’s face tightens, grip tightening on the silverware in his hand. 

They’re thinking the same thing, Tommy knows.

Fae are dangerous. It’s a good thing there’s iron everywhere — if worse came to worse, they could ward off Tommy with it.

(What Phil doesn’t know is that Tommy would let them. 

That he’d take the pain and rejection silently.)

“We need to talk.”

It’s not said to Tommy. It doesn’t involve him at all. Just Phil and his sons who he’s called to the living room, voice quiet as Tommy eavesdrops.

That doesn’t make the words any less gutwrenching. 

“You can’t let Tommy speak.”

The twins tense, but they… they don’t even argue.

Phil’s jaw tightens. “He tried to ask me. You two have his name, too, he’ll go after you next. We can’t risk anything.”

What isn’t said is, *He’s too dangerous to trust.*

But they all know it. 

Tommy somehow gets quieter.

Because horribly, it makes sense. The Watsons can’t risk their family falling into a dangerous Fae deal.

And even if they did give his voice back, he’d be different. Too loud, too bubbly, too desperate for their love.

So he cuts his losses.

“Just for one day.”

It’s Wilbur he approaches, months after Phil’s warning. The boy looks up at Tommy, his incredible, undeserved fondness masked by confusion.  

“One day for what?”

*To have my voice back,* is the true answer. 

But there’s more. So much more. *To say I love you. To call Phil Dad, just once. To call you and Techno my brothers. Just one day to speak, and all I’ll say is how much I love you.*

*I’ll be quiet after that.*

“To have my voice back.”

In the end, that’s all he writes. There’s not enough space to write out all those vulnerable truths, the stench of the marker making him dizzy.

And Wilbur’s face falls.

“Tommy.”

He sounds… doubtful. Tommy’s heart dares to rise, hands shaking as Wilbur stands, face drawn tight with grief, pain, and… guilt?

It only takes a second for that last emotion to make sense.

Because Wilbur snatches the whiteboard from his hands.

“You can’t be trusted with it.”

That’s Wilbur’s explanation as he stalks down the hallway, Tommy clinging to his side, mouth desperately forming muted apologies. 

And when Wilbur hands the whiteboard to Phil, those damning words still scrawled across it, Phil says the same.

That’s not the end of it.

The notebooks around the house are taken. So are any scraps of paper, loose pens, pencils, or markers.

And Phil, voice thick with grief, orders, “Tommy, don’t try to talk to us again.”

It didn’t have to be an order. Tommy would’ve listened.

But the end result is the same. Tommy stays silent, buried in his room, unable to even cry out. To ask for *anything,* let alone the chance to say, “I love you.”

And like this, he’s lost the chance to ever hear it, too. 

[phonkscribes]

Heyo- the power went out at my place after a storm. it got me thinking- what would the dmc boys do during a power outage with their s/o? Thank you (:

This is such a sweet and funny idea, thank you for sending the request and I'm sorry that I'm only just NOW getting to it. I'm going to include Credo because I love him.

Black Clouds Provoke Isolation.

The DMC boys during a power outage with their S/O.

Dante

He is accustomed to not having the power work at the Devil May Cry, but he understands that it's probably not something his S/O would be all that acquainted with. First he'll look up and curse quietly to himself, clicking his tongue and turning his head away as he sits in the darkness. As soon as his S/O comes in and starts to worry about it, he's there to calm them down and tell them that it's not a big deal and that this sort of thing happens all the time. Much to their dismay, Dante... power is important, without power the fridge can't keep the pizza and beers cold. His motivation arises at the risk of these important assets being lost.

If his S/O is afraid of the dark or has an issue with it, he'll drape himself over them like a blanket.

"Alright lets get you to the couch", and then he guides(drags) them to the couch to hunker down until the power comes back on.

Dante would poke fun of them for that, if it weren't for his own apprehension to wandering around in the dark. He gets it, since a lot of bad things tend to happen to him in the dark. That's probably what's going on in the mind of his S/O so the least he can do is be there and comforting for them where he didn't have anyone to comfort himself during those times.

"Hey... it'll be okay, we've been through worse before haven't we?", he'll say in a melancholic sort of way.

When the lights do eventually come back on, he has this big smile on his face and looks down to his S/O. He'd chuckle and give them a quick nudge.

"It came back on! See? What'd I tell you?", and after making sure that his partner's alright, he's going off to check if the pizza and beers are still good. A little celebratory snack wouldn't hurt, and he's thinking that a bit of pizza and a cold drink might cheer them up.

Vergil

Like his brother, he doesn't quite care for the dark when the power goes out, but that's because he's grown used to a lack of light in his life. The darkness is something he's come to embrace, something he can move freely through and about without concern. Of course, this changes somewhat with his S/O by his side. He moves to find them first throughout the power outage, making sure that they're alright. However, he's a bit lost as to what to do in this situation since it's never happened to him enough times before where he's become familiar with what course of action to take. He's spent more time in Hell than in the human world, and will rely on his S/O to take charge, which is something he dislikes.

Vergil would ask them if there's anything that he can do to help, like light some candles or check on the appliances or anything like that. He'd also grow a bit frustrated with them when they don't turn on when he tries to use them or if there isn't anything else he can do to try and help. The Darkslayer tries not to pout and fold his arms in the corner as everything else essentially gets handled for him or by someone else. However, he isn't totally useless here. If there is something he can do, it is also to provide comfort for his S/O in the case that they're not as fond of the dark as he is.

If this gets in the way of them trying to take action, he'll guide them through the house and ask them what they need. Once everything is squared away, his focus is directed onto his partner. What do they need right now? What can he provide for them? Comforting others may not be his strong suit, but he will everything he can for their sake. If this is just holding onto them and pressing their head into his shoulder, he will do it. He won't admit it, but he's glad that their able to vulnerable with him, allowing him to be the rock that they can lean on in their time of need. Besides, he quite enjoys these small moments of reprieve and being close to his S/O.

V

The first one to start is Griffon, commenting about how the lights have gone off and how it's suddenly gotten a bit colder. V acknowledges this from his familiar and starts to get up from his spot on the couch to go and locate his S/O to inform them of the problem if they weren't previously aware already. If they're already getting to it, he's sitting back and watching them, admiring the way that they're handling the situation. He'll leave them after a moment to go and find if he can do something to assist them, such as bringing them a flashlight or even a few candles to light around the house so that things are easier to see. He's not all too bothered by a lack of power, tolerant at best, but he does get cold after idling for a while.

When all that can be done is done, he's curled up on the couch with a spot made available for his partner. V waits for them to come and join him, as he'd like for them to share their warmth with him. Sitting together, he'll start to read from his book of poems as Shadow drapes herself across the two of them. It is a perfect way to relax during an event that they don't have much control over, especially if he notices that his S/O is a bit uncomfortable with the lack of power. V would be too, if it weren't for having his partner at his side.

The comfort of not being alone through this gives him the strength he needs to get through it, and he hopes that he can shed that same strength to his S/O. Griffon complains about the mushy romantic spiel that V sings, flocking off to go and check if the power's back on. While the mouthy bird is out of the picture, he returns his attention to being assuring that all will be okay, as it is not the end... yet. Of course, it's within his nature to be a little teasing to them, and he enjoys watching the way they react to his words. When the power does return, he won't be releasing them from his grasp any time soon. V quite likes snuggling with his S/O and he'd like to be with them for a little longer before they eventually do get up to leave.

Nero

He's a little irritated when the power goes out, and ends up cursing the storm for the lack of lights in the house. Nero looks to his S/O and asks if they're okay before he even starts to do anything else, making sure they're all good first and then going to start the backup generator. At the least, he's got a backup plan, thanks to Nico for providing him with a spare(at a 'good' price.)

"Come on you bastard", he's mouthing off to the generator as he yanks the cord to bring it to life.

Nero returns to his partner as soon as that's been squared away, and takes their hand in his to go and grab the flashlights and other lights and what not. He looks around to see if there's anything that he might've forgotten about or if there's anything that his S/O hasn't done. He likes to be on top of things, even having a little plan that Kyrie made to go over until the power comes back on. It isn't the end of the world, but he hates sitting still for too long, even if all that's left to do is to wait. He'd have called Kyrie too by then, asking if the boys are doing okay while he's here with his S/O.

If his S/O happens to be anxious without the power, Nero probably won't be of much help. He's a better listener than he is the guy to go to for advice, awkwardly standing around while Kyrie would cry about something that happened to her or that she was going through. He's gotten better over the years though. He'll take his partner to the couch and make sure they're nice and cozy, offering them an earbud to take and listen to some music while he sits with them, waiting for the storm to pass and eventually for the power to return. He's attentive, and tries, and that's all that anyone can ever really ask for.

When the power does come back, he's cracking a smile, and even hits them with something witty and sarcastic.

"Was that so bad? You did just fine"

And they did! And he presses a little kiss to their forehead.

Credo

He had expected such to happen when he caught the forecast on the news just a few days prior. He suspected that something like the power going out would happen, and so he's pleasantly pleased with himself when he managed to be correct in his assessment.

"Not to worry, I've got this", Credo assures his S/O as he moves with a calmness to gather the things that he has prepared in case such an emergency were to arise. There are bottled waters, flashlights, and the like.

One could even say that Credo's a little too prepared. He makes his calls to Kyrie and Nero, making sure that they're alright and have everything just as he had instructed Kyrie. While with his S/O, he's going over what the plan is and etc. The one-winged devil is a little impatient with things, pacing around the house as he waits for the power to return, and checks in with his partner to make sure that they're okay too. It might take their own assurance that things are okay to calm him down from his restlessness.

Credo isn't usually one to have his feathers ruffled, but there are times where even he loses his cool, like when the Order used his sister to further their own goals. It was absolutely unacceptable, and he'd hope that her, Nero, and the boys were doing just as fine as him and his S/O were. If his S/O were to become anxious during the predicament at any point, he'd stop his own fretting for a moment to address theirs. He'd apologize if he had any part to take in causing it, and promptly pull them into a hug, after asking if it were okay to hug them. His formalities could be found endearing, even after all this time, and they do end up calming his partner down. The distraction is more than appreciated as he tries to figure out what to talk about.

Although one may find that he's not so good with small talk, and curses himself for not being better at it for their sake.

Sparda

The dark knight doesn't see a power outage as a problem, even finding it a bit trivial that the lights went out all because of a silly little storm? He alerts you rather loudly that there isn't any power.

"Dear!! The lights have gone out! Is everything alright?"

Funny how he could create the contraptions necessary to power the Temen-Ni-Gru, but simple electricity puzzles him. Ah, oh well. He could easily provide a bit of light with a bit of magic. He was quite good at that, and he does well to emulate a bit of light for him and his S/O to walk around the house if he wasn't too busy with reading or doing anything else the moment the power went out. His main priority is his partner and after seeking them out, he's making sure that they're alright and taken care of. Upon finding them, he'll snake his arms around their trunk before pulling them close to himself.

"That didn't scare you did it?", he'd ask as he smirks into the back of their head, pressing a kiss to their hair as he takes a gander at the state of their abode.

He's off to check on other things if his beloved is fine and dandy. With a bit of his devil's magic he'd even start on preparing them some tea to enjoy until the power comes back on. Sparda does enjoy using his talents every now and then, showing off his power in these small displays to charm his S/O further even though he's already secured them. It's something that he can't help. He does get a bit more serious if his partner happens to be a bit disturbed by the lack of power. It's almost like a 180, where his lightheartedness is replaced by being more levelheaded and attuned to every little thing from his partner. The pupils of his eyes narrow as he kneels before them, surrendering himself to them as he takes their hands into his own.

"Darling, if there is anything that I can do, you just need to say the word", he says in a sultry tone. He'll bring their hands to his lips as he thumbs over the back of them.