#they could never make me hate you welt

[luvvsoft]

pairing: welt yang x reader

contains: fluff with some angst, mentions of past death, reincarnation, very little HI3 lore, some violence

word count: 1.7k

inspired by nothing’s gonna hurt you baby by cas !

Welt remembers your wedding day.

He remembers the nerves that threatened to claw their way from his throat, the sweat that lined his palms, the uneven breathing when you got closer for your kiss, the smile that adorned your red stained lips.

It was a simple wedding really — taking place in a rundown shed during winter. Welt wanted better for your wedding, but you simply didn’t care. You just wanted to get married to the love of your life.

You promised him you’d live with him through thick and thin in the harshest of winters and even in the corrupted world you inhabited.

Welt remembers your soft lips pressing on his while you danced to jazz.

You always begged him to dance with you even if he didn’t have energy. He never could find it within himself to say no.

He would take your hand in his and sway gently to the rhythm of the music. It was always sappy, but you loved it.

You’d press your forehead against his and whisper how much you loved him — how glad you were to have him. Then you’d slip a kiss from right under his eyes.

You always laughed at how surprised he was at you stealing kisses. You’d think he would have been used to it by then, but he never was.

Welt remembers how you’d drag him onto the stage during karaoke nights, and force him to sing with you.

You always insisted on karaoke date nights on Saturdays. It was endearing how excited you were throughout the entire day, never seeming to quell your enthusiasm.

You’d wait till night fell and hurried to get ready — always saying something along the lines of “we can’t let everyone have too much fun without us.” He’d always chuckle at your excitement and take you to your favorite bar.

When it was your turn to pick a song, you’d always chose “Ebb Tide” by The Ink Spots first. Pulling him to the stage to sing along with you, even when he insisted he couldn’t sing. You’d say he sounded like an angel descending from the Heavens when he sang.

Welt remembers loving being married to you.

He’d wake up to your side of the bed empty and cold. He would hear faint sounds from the kitchen, you’d always wake up earlier than him to make breakfast.

He loved hugging you from behind while watching you cook. Pressing a few kisses to your neck, he’d watch as you giggled and told him to back off lest his food end up burnt.

You’d see him out of the door with a kiss on his lips and a freshly made lunch. He loved your cooking.

When he came back home, you’d always have dinner ready and a bath running for him. You knew exactly how to get him to relax.

At night, you’d sleep in his arms. You always swore he’d crush you to death one day with how hard he hugged you. He’d always flick your forehead and watch as you tried to stifle your laughter.

You’d give him a kiss on his forehead and say goodnight while you drifted off into dreamland. He’d watch your chest rise and fall calmly as it lulled him into sleep.

Welt remembers your death.

He’d gone away to pose as a history teacher in St. Freya Academy. Telling you it was necessary, and he’d come back before you even noticed. You accepted it despite how worried it made you, pleading him to come back in one piece for you. That was his first mistake.

You’d allowed travelers into your shared home, knowing how harsh winters were. You provided them with hot food that soothed their souls and blankets to keep them warm and cozy at night. You allowed them to make themselves at home in your own home, and in return, they took your life.

You were always too trusting. That was your mistake, but he couldn’t hold you at fault. He knew your heart was far too kind to turn anyone away.

Welt remembers the tears that cascaded down his face when he found you.

You looked as heavenly as you always did even in death. Your eyes were closed while there were dried tears on your face.

He clutched you to his chest, pressing kisses onto you — wishing, praying, hoping it was a dream. Alas it wasn’t.

He doesn’t remember how long he spent holding onto your cold, dead body. He only snapped out of it when Tesla found him on the floor of your home, nursing him back to health — health he wished you had instead of him.

He always blamed himself for your death, even as you were lowered into the ground and the years passed.

Welt remembers when he saw you again.

He and Himeko came across your world, ravaged by abominations and creatures of Nanook. They felt it was their duty to help the people — you were all innocent after all.

He just didn’t expect you to see you there. You were surrounded by creatures on all sides holding a small knife. Even in this world, you were still a fighting spirit. He could see the tears brimming in your eyes though, thinking it was your last moment.

Welt immediately reacted, wasting no time in getting rid of the monsters who would hurt you. It was purely on instinct, out of not wanting to see a bystander get hurt or his spouse, he couldn’t answer.

He got to take a closer look at you. Your hair still framed your face perfectly, albeit a bit messy. Your eyes, even if they were watery, held appreciation in them and that light — that light in your eyes he could never get out of his mind. That light he saw vanish upon your death. Your lips, although not the signature rosy color they always were, still looked just as plump and kissable as before.

You looked just as beautiful as the day he lost you. Welt swore he could lose himself in you, maybe that’s all he was — a lost man looking for his anchor. His anchor he found again.

You bowed deeply and thanked Welt profusely for helping you. Although a humble merchant trying to make meets end, you invited him and Himeko into your home. You were still as trusting as ever.

You served them warm food everyday, even as you apologized that it might not be a lot. You even arranged for Himeko to sleep on your bed while Welt took the couch, and you slept on a small makeshift bed on the floor. You’d say everything was okay, even as your food portions got smaller and you woke up earlier and earlier everyday. It was clear you were in no position to host guests in your house, yet you still did.

You’d beg Himeko to tell you stories about their travels on the Express to pass the time — looking at them with stars in your eyes as they retold their deeds.

Welt remembers the look on your face when it was yet again time for them to be on their way.

They’d done it many times, said goodbye to friends and departed, yet it never got easier. Welt especially didn’t think it was easy when saying goodbye to someone who was the love of his life, even if he was not yours. He’d miss your cooking, your expressions, your smiles, your warm embraces. He’d miss you once again, like he once did all those years ago.

He saw the look on your face, one of sadness and regret. He couldn’t help but mirror it — melancholic at having to leave you again, regretful at not being able to say ��I love you.” He knew Himeko didn’t feel much different, you’d been welcoming and loving the whole time they stayed there.

You always stunned him in your past life, even in this one, you still did. You threw caution out of the window and begged them to let you on board the Express. There was nothing left for you in this world.

There wasn’t a single bone or muscle in Welt’s body that was willing to say no. Himeko could see that too and accepted.

Welt remembers your first time on the Astral Express.

Pom Pom had been shocked at the sight of a third person. After their initial shock, they proceeded to scold both Himeko and Welt in front of you.

You laughed at their shenanigans, once again bowing to Pom Pom and thanking them for letting you on. Welt thought you’d fit right in.

Pom Pom, knowing of Welt’s past with you, assigned you a room near his. They knew it’d soothe his mind — nothing would happen to you again. The conductor even pressed Welt into giving you a tour, watching as you beamed by his side.

Welt remembers watching you sleep at night.

You were never a good sleeper, always needing someone by your side to sleep well. You’d chosen Welt as that person, asking him to at least stay by the foot of your bed.

He’d watch as you tucked yourself in and closed your eyes, that same serene expression taking over your features. It reminded him of your last moments.

Your chest would rise and fall rhythmically until it slowed, signaling your descent into slumber. He’d take that as his cue to leave, before you started shuffling around and your breathing picked up.

Welt had experienced many nightmares before — of his friends, the Welt before him, of you. He could immediately pick up the signs, and you had all of them. Whispering in your sleep, he could slightly hear your words begging to be spared, your slight sniffles turning into sobs.

Welt was a strong man, he’d lived for a long time and still had a will of steel. But hearing your cries and murmurs, he felt his resolve weaken.

Welt remembers climbing onto your bed and soothing you back to sleep.

He hugged you close to his chest, humming a tune you loved when you were together while caressing your hair.

That seemed to quell the turmoil within you as you slowly stopped crying, and instead fell back asleep.

“Nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby,” whispered Welt as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 ✿

characters: jing yuan, blade, dan heng, welt yang, yanqing, sampo, gepard, luocha x nb!reader

warnings: tooth rutting fluff, advised for u to read while sitting down or in private bc u might have a heart attack from how cute and chaotic this shit is, some angst might be sprinkled in just bc✨✨

notes: that moment when you have a super bad baby fever except the fever is towards cat rather than babies. genshin impact ver can be read here! part 2 with penacony men!

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

oh fuck

look at that floof

that absolute big soft floofball peacefully sleeping on top of your favorite black shirt. your shirt is ruined, massive amount of white fur stuck to the fabric and you’re late for work but at least you have a happily napping away cat

a siberian cat, me thinks. with that amount of fur and that large body, he’s gotta be a siberian cat

spoiled, smug peace of shit and he knows it. revels in that title even

dubbed as ‘the handsome cat’ by your friends, co-workers and neighbors alike, meow yuan is surprisingly and not so surprisingly incredibly popular amongst the ladies. whether it be because of his fur, his adorable meows, the red ribbon you tied around his neck as a makeshift collar or his way of charming the ladies with a gentle pawing to their hand and a smug “meowww”, you will never know

the biggest out of the cats. but is it his body that’s big or is it the rapunzel like long fur that he has. the world will sadly never know and neither will you

surprisingly chatty at times. but worryingly very eepy. an adult cat should sleep about 12-16 hours a day and yet you’re pretty sure meow yuan spends 25 hours of the day sleeping away under the sunlight

closest to little nyanqing. seems to think of the youngest kitten as his own as he’s seen grooming or simply looking out for the young kitten at times. also seems to be a bit closer to nyan heng and meowade but the latter tends to spend his time alone

an absolute smug spoiled prince and he owns to it. whether it be feigning hurt, crying out for your attention or downright plopping himself down on your keyboard, deleting your entire progress of work, the little shit knows how to be a headache

but it’s okay, you always forgive him because he allows you to smush your face into the fur of his belly when you’re stressed or squish his soft toe beans. meow yuan is let off the hook yet again…

occasionally, meow yuan reminds you of a lion. it maybe weird and completely out of the blue but with the way he grooms others, his fur, the absolute motor like loud purrs he emits or the sheer massive size and weight of him — yeah, you get the point

one time, you decided to spoil him by carrying him around in your arms like how you do with the other cats. the loud crack! noise and the fact that you couldn’t get up the next day should prove just how damn big he is

meow yuan was a worry wart the whole day. constantly meowing in your ears, purring softly, nuzzling your side. it almost seemed like he was trying to apologize for being this big. to which you easily let him off the hook of course. how could anyone ever say no to that big adorable yellow eyes?

art credit to cocoink🍁 on twt

a bit of a worrying case, meowade is

he doesn’t like socializing, the other cats nor does he get along with you either. the only ones he seem to at least tolerate were meow yuan and nyan heng alongside you

likes to spend his time all alone, cooped up inside some small confined space, above the cupboard or inside his own small room in the cat tree. also enjoys spending time in your room as well but only if the other cats aren’t there

flinches or freezes up whenever you touch him which is incredibly worrying and gut-wrenching. makes you hate however was his previous owner to have caused meowade to despise touches and affections

the first time you found him, bleeding and wet on the side of the road and tried to wrap your coat around him to take him to the vet, the little scraggly cat hissed and clawed and bit at you with great amount of hate despite literally bleeding out. thankfully, he seemed to understand you were no threat as he went limp in your coat, allowing you to get him to the vet

due to whatever his past experiences were, meowade hates being close to anyone. but at least he was slowly but surely opening up to the others and you

the first time the poor scraggly cat decided to bump his head to your hand, asking for pets, you cried tears of joy and relief. at least, you can offer him healing and comfort as you and the other cats stay there for him on his journey

the second biggest cat, bested by meow yuan himself. not as big as him but damn can this cat scare others. whether it be other cats, your friends who decided to visit or some random dog that you passed by as you take meowade out for a walk

seriously, the amount of times this cat wrestled against dogs bigger than himself gives you heart attacks. it’s a real wonder and a miracle you aren’t dead yet

british shorthair, me thinks. but the ones that grow to be a bit bigger than the others

has a bad habit of just… staring off into space, unblinking with those big round eyes at times. literally no thoughts in his brain. head empty, as he just… stares off into space

“oh, having another existential crisis again? mind if i join you today, meowade?”

“…”

“… meow”

and so, this weird ritual of the two of you sitting side by side, staring off into the distance, unblinking as the cup of coffee in your hand goes cold has become something special in you two’s bonding moment. oneself that meowade looks forward to each day

sometimes, he tends to chase after nyan heng around the house for whatever the reason. it leaves poor nyan heng shaking and hissing as the small black cat comes to you for help

not the chattiest of cats nor is he the most pickiest. quite docile despite his killer stare at times and you would even daresay, shy when it comes to affection

overall, a cute cat. the cute pathetic ones that you just can’t help but adore and love

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

another docile cat!! perhaps even the most docile one!!!

at first, you were worried when taking him in because holy shit, where is his tail?! only after taking him to the vets did you finally managed to breathe a sigh of relief because nyan heng was a black manx breed of cat

lean, on the smaller side, an amazing hunter and a dutiful bug hunter in the house, nyan heng is a cute black manx who has a pretty green/grey eyes

an absolute sweetheart, always hoping to please you or help you out around the house as he helps to keep the other cats in line. except for meowade. he always finds himself having a hissing match with the black british shorthair or getting teased by the eepy meow yuan

closest to nyelt, as you had found the two cats together when you decided to take him in. almost seem to see nyelt as some sort of a father figure with how the little black manx constantly goes to the older one for advice or simply some help in grooming

has a cute simple, thread like thin black tie with a few charms around himself as a makeshift collar. he seems to like it despite the thread being a little bit too thin for cats’ comfort

seriously, what’s up with your cats and their desire to wear makeshift collars? makes you really consider if they are cats…

that aside, nyen heng also tends to be more active during nighttime. not the type that would take down things, destroy objects or cause ruckus and cause you jump out of the warm comfort of your bed. no, he just simply quietly trudges around the house, searching if he had truly hunted down every bugs and insects in the house

especially that spider

nyen heng hates to see you so scared over that cursed spider. so he makes it his life mission to rid the house of insects, more specifically, spiders!!

and damn is he absolutely devoted to his job because ever since you cried to your friend over the phone about the spider that you saw in your room, you never saw another spider ever again!

not the most chattiest nor is the most affectionate. he’s a mix of both but only when in privacy of you two or when he’s feeling particularly lonely

don’t get him wrong, the other cats are an amazing company but he just tends to seek out your attention and affection more y’know? there’s just something soothing about being by your side

seems to have some history with meow yuan and meowade. whether that be good with how friendly meow yuan is with nyan heng. or bad, with how meowade seems to want to take their play fighting to a whole next level

surprisingly, doesn’t like sunlight that much

most of the cats would follow the sunlight and it’s warmth and spend some time outside or on the window sill. but you can find the little black minx just chilling in one of the rooms of the cat tree of beside you, observing the other cats

nyen heng is an absolute sweetheart. the quiet type of sweetheart

the type of sweetheart that follows you around, hoping to help you out or simply offer a comforting presence. it’s the least he can do for you

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

another sweetheart of a cat except nyelt makes himself and his presence known unlike nyan heng

possibly a havana brown breed with just how damn calm, peaceful, loving and loyal he is. especially with you. havana browns tend to attach themselves to only one person during their span of life, which sometimes can feel like nyelt is just a biiitttt clingy with you

was there with nyan heng when you took the two cats in and often times acts like a father figure to the cats of the house which is a huge help to your mental state. except for nyanqing. nyanqing only has one father figure and that’s meow yuan

but that was completely fine since nyelt still looks after the little energetic kitten. often times looking after the cream munchkin as he carries nyanqing around by his scruff

to which, nyan heng comes to you for affection and attention. if his father figure won’t give it, then you surely will!

likes to wear the black mini scarf like collar around his neck. often times seen curled up inside the mini scarf as he sleeps the day away like most cats do

can come of as quite chatty at times with how attentive and helpful nyelt is

oh your back feels stiff? he can sit on it and make biscuits (that cute moment when cats knead their paws?). meow yuan is out of option since he’s way too big and heavy and could potentially be the sole reason you break your back. literally

oh nyanqing is missing again? what do you mean he’s missing? he’s right there, hiding inside one of the rooms of the cat tree

nyan heng is being bullied by meowade again? you know nothing of the weight behind this powe—

yeah, you get it. kinda reminds you of a grandpa with how attentive he is and how he has a single streak of grey atop his head fur. which is absolutely adorable and one place that you adore smothering with kisses

nyelt doesn’t seem to mind the affection too as he simply sits there, purring away and basking in your affection. a very pliant cat

sometimes, something seems to weigh heavily on his and nyan heng’s minds with how they curl up together or look out the window, seemingly searching for something

at first when they did that, you thought some bird or a squirrel passed by the window. but if that was the case then every cats should by by the windowsill

yet only nyelt and nyan heng are

at first it worried you because what if they were having cat depression?! are you absolutely sure that you’re being a good cat owner, [name]?!

yeah, you had a lot of self doubt and depressive episodes due to the two cats

however you finally figured out the case when one day, one of your co-workers suggested a play date with her own cats. saying that sometimes, cats need to see new faces to experience some relief from their everyday tasks or ways of living

the date was agreed upon and your co-worker decided to bring over a few of her cats

the immediate second the pretty red furred maine coon, pink-ish scottish fold and the grey striped scottish fold stepped out of the cat bag, nyelt and nyan heng seem to brighten immediately as they fucking dash towards the three cats

turns out the five of them seemed to have been close before they got separated and the two male cats found their way in your home

at least your cats were happy yet again. which made you happy in turn too

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

awwwwwww

everyone's reactions when you first introduce them to nyanqing. and honestly, you can't blame them because look at that cute little cream munchkin pitter pattering his way over here!!!

as stated above, a cute little cream colored munchkin

super adorable

tiny

a tiny baby

"hang on, i'm gonna have an abnormal increase in my sugar intake simply because nyanqing is just too damn adorable to not to do that" - you on a daily basis while calling your best friend and honestly? your bestie's starting to get a bit sick of your constant fawning over your cats

that is until you bestie decides to come over for a visit to drop off some meds for you (during the infamous 'trying to lift meow yuan and almost breaking your spinal cord' day), your bestie dropped down to the floor, unresponsive the moment you called over nyanqing to introduce him to your bestie

yeah... since then the two of you constantly fawn over the little munchkin while trying not to die of a cuteness overload

but it's completely fine and understandable even as you two get the nth heart attack this day simply because nyanqing was... well, nyanqing himself!

an adorable little pliant baby who loves nothing more than sleeping, playing around with meow yuan, you and sprinkles of mischief sometimes

is the closest to meow yuan and can be found with the large siberian cat whenever you can't find him. often times, you would have to move meow yuan over to check each and every nook and cranny around the large siberian cat just so you can get a glimpse of the small munchkin and let out a sigh of relief

at times, the eepy meow yuan tends to curl up with the tiny nyanqing buttttt due to how much of a heavy sleeper the larger cat is, nyanqing almost gets crushed under the much larger cat

yet he somehow is still alive and well and completely okay???? like what????????

still doesn't relieve your heart no matter how many times you find the tiny munchkin under the large siberian cat

is a little bit mischievous at times with how he lovingly bothers nyan heng. trailing after the black minx all the while meowing his ears off about something. the same can be applied to nyelt as well but nyelt tends to patiently converse with the small munchkin unlike nyan heng who wishes to avoid him at most times, preferring his lone and private time

seem to have some sort of an ongoing hidden agenda against meowade and luonya. the former black can cat be found bullying the small munchkin until either the other cats step in or you. as for the latter? no one knows. somehow, nyanqing always ends up getting into a defensive position whenever luonya comes into his field of vision

one time you even found nyanqing hisses at meowade with meow yuan behind the tiny kitten's back. you had to put the three of them into time out and give meowade a scolding

what about scolding nyanqing you say? well

“this is the last time i’ll let you off the hook, nyan-nyan. if i find you stirring up trouble again”

yeah… when are you ever going to stop letting your cats off of the hook [name]?

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

…

“you sure this is a cat and not a fox or a vixen undercover?”

“yes, it is indeed a cat and not a fox or a vixen undercover. i’m guessing it’s a somali cat though it could be mixed breed with another different cat breed as well”

“you sure…?”

“please get out, and allow the others to show their pets”

yeah… the local vet is familiar with you and your many different cats. not to mention the amount of times you asked if meowpo was truly a cat and not a fox undercover because damn, is this cat fucking mischievous

an absolute fucking menace and i cannot stress this enough, god

the type of cat who would keep a straight eye contact with you as his soft squishy paw slowly pushes a cup full of your coffee towards the edge of the surface all the while keeping the :3 face

oh you thought meow yuan was bad and mischievous? you immediately took back your words the second you adopted meowpo

that’s how damn bad this little cat is

you know those moments that you have like,,, a cute aggression? but instead of smothering the cat with kisses and hugs and cuddles, you end up lovingly bullying the cat? yeah. that’s your eternal cycle with meowpo

“you stupid—“ kiss “—fucking” kiss “—cat!” kiss “when the fuck—“ kiss “—and where the fuck” kiss “—did you came from” kiss “—to make me suffer, huh?”

a never ending cycle and meowpo fucking revels in the sheer amount of times he can make you have lovingly bullying cute aggression moments

seems to have some sort of a rivalry with nyepard and surprisingly meow yuan

nyepard was completely understood and truthfully, you saw it coming. nyepard is a rule follower and an enforcer through and through meanwhile meowpo is a rule breaker

so imagine your surprise when you come back home one day to see meow yuan glaring at meowpo from his windowsill

“meow yuan, what’s gotten into you? why are you bullying meowpo?”

“mrreow!” oh meow yuan sounded a bit angry. which only served to double your shock since meow yuan is a very gentle cat despite his large size. gentle, affectionate, chatty, friendly and a bit mischievous at times but never hostile or mean

“mrreeeooww!” meowpo seems to complain as he makes his way over to hide behind your leg. he seems to be shaking or even afraid of the larger cat

to which, you immediately coddled and soothed meowpo over and scolded meow yuan afterwards. all the while meowpo gives meow yuan a knowing smug look

yeaaahhh… these idiots are fighting for your attention and affection

if meowpo isn’t somewhere inside the house, creating chaos and getting scolded by the other cats then you can definitely find him by asking a help from nyepard. nyeppie would dutifully carry out his duties and rat meowpo out in record time

but he isn’t always so mean or mischievous. the times where you fall sick and is having a hard time trying to breathe through your nostrils, meowpo is the one who takes care of the other cats’ bowls of food and water

it was a way of him hoping to help you out the tiniest bit as you lay bedridden

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

nyepard, the most… dog-like cat you would ever meet. but also a cheetah-like as well????

it’s hard to explain since nyeppie has spotted fur and the black smokey eye that cheetahs have and not to mention his large yet lean physique as well

the second largest. whereas meowade is also the second biggest due to his length, neppie is the second biggest due to being a bit on the… buffer? side

seriously, you were worried for a few days when nyepard kept growing and growing, showing absolutely no sign of stopping his growth spurt

thankfully, he isn’t as big as meow yuan

you don’t wanna live with the embarrassment of getting dragged down the street by another big ass cat chasing after a random pretty leaf they saw. nope. you can’t deal with the embarrassment and shame

and yes, you did dragged down the street when taking meow yuan out on a walk before but that is a story and second hand embarrassment for another time

another sweetheart despite his size

very doting, gentle, very shy when it comes to affections but still asks for them anyways because it’s you

the first time you took nyepard for his vet vaccinations, the veterinarian looked at you dead in the eyes as if saying “bestie, what the fuck?”

of course you would get weird stares whenever you take the big cat out for a walk. he’s as big as a doberman dog and the dotted furs of his doesn’t exactly help to direct attention away from yourself

but the sheer amount of power you feel when walking down the street with both meow yuan and nyepard by your two sides is fucking addicting

one cat that closely resembles a lion and another that looks like a cheetah. at least you sleep peacefully at night knowing that you have two scary cats privilege

scary dog privilege? [name] only knows and experiences scary cats privilege. at times it's adorable but also threatening as well because your bestie and some close co-workers know just how devoted and loyal your cats are towards you

nyeppie is the most loyal of them all. or at least, one who is willing to show it at each minute of the day with how dutifully he chases after insects with nyan heng, scolds meowpo or just is there to be your emotional support

by being your emotional support, nyeppie meant being there sitting beside your computer as you diligently types away at a work report and not to be your cuddle victim!!!! no, no no no, no no, you're not squishing his paws as you take him away in your arms to cuddle on the bed!! you always end up falling asleep!!!! what do you mean by it's completely fine that you have saved up the progress and the deadline isn't close yet?! the deadline is before midnight!!!

sigh...

if only cats could sigh heavily and smack his face with his palm as he watches you scamper about, trying to wake yourself up as you realize that you did ended up napping the day away with nyeppie in your arms

well, at least you managed to send the report in at time. by 'at time' you and him both meant at least 2 minutes before the deadline closed up

nyepard guesses you can cuddle with him this time since you managed to finish the report within a record time of 47 minutes

art credit to mm_mako22 on danbooru!

luonya is probably the most weirdest cat you ever had the pleasure of adopting. and that was saying something because you're pretty sure you live with a long lost lion and a cheetah and a fox cats!!!!

and he's just a simple, silly, lovely cream colored turkish angora!!!!!

ah, whatever. you guess its just life's way of dealing you karma by making you live with a bit quirky 8 cats

jokes and a lot of conspiracy theories pushed aside for now, time to focus on the present AKA 'the pretty cat'

oh yes, while meow yuan was getting dubbed as 'the handsome cat' by almost everyone who meets him, luonya was rightfully dubbed as 'the pretty cat'

at this point, you're damn sure that your friends and co-workers come around only to coo over your cats and to spoil them rather than spending time with you... understandable, because you too would do the same without a single ounce of shame and you absolutely mean every damn word

one time, just for shits and giggles and a bunch of pictures to take of your latest cat, you signed him up for a cat beauty pageant

it was only for shits and giggles and a reason to snap pictures of luonya in a pretty cat costumes and stuff, you swear!! so imagine your surprise and how far down your jaw went slack when the host announced your cat, luonya as the cat beauty pageant winner!!!

yeah...

it was a chaotic thing to happen truly and the small glares and backhanded compliments the other cat parents were giving you was making you break out in cold sweat. at least, you have your pretty cat with you to soothe yourself a bit

and a nice whopping 300K dollars as the victor money!!!! damn, you're rich as shit now

not for too long since that money is gonna fly away in the wind due to the fact that you adopted a literal 7 cats and a kitten

worth it, you cry internally as you pay for the 50 kilograms of cat food all the while luonya gently meows at you as in a way of saying "hurry up, dear. we still have to pick up the wet food and the snacks too"

hhhh yeah

this cream colored turkish angora of yours is absolutely drop dead gorgeous yet at the same time he also has a very large secretive look on his face. there's just something about the way that luonya just acts, always sitting atop a high place in the house, as he just stares into the souls of everyone within the room

weirdly smells like either flowers or of medicine and pills and there's absolutely no in between. it's either giving lilies or pills but either way, your cat is a girlboss and he seems to know it as well

not entirely affectionate like meow yuan or meowpo but he is also not too talkative either. a bit of something in between along the lines

is affectionate and talkative at times but prefer it if you would be asleep or when its just you two when he finally decides to curl up on your lap

overall, luonya is a very gentle yet also a very suspicious cat but is oki, he girlboss and he knows what he wants and needs with how he sometimes fakes choking noises to make you get up in light speed

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey um if it's cool could I request, Welt, Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, Gallager and Aventurine reacting to reader to questioning their interest in them?

An example: The confession

Them: I have feelings for you Reader: ... Um *shocked*.. I feel the same but.. *trails off* Them: but? Reader: *squints* you sure? About me? Please reconsider your choice. Them: ...

thank you if you decide to do this! No pressure though!

Jing yuan would raise a brow before vaguely asking you to come with him somewhere he had been meaning to show you for a while and thought that now was the perfect time.

The place where he takes you was just like any other flower garden you’ve been to before but from the way the light glinted off of the waters surface, to the way the flowers blossomed in a variety of unique colours, and other small things like that made the flower garden look ethereal.

Jing yuan chuckled at your expression.

‘You see why I brought you here?’ He asks.

‘…no, not really, why?’ You replied, looking at him in confusion.

‘I’m trying to show you that while you may not think yourself as anything special, much like this flower garden, there are a multitude of unique things tailored to you that make you shine in the eyes of the ones who views you highly.’ He responded as he lends his hand out for a bird to perch on and softly smiled as it moved up to his shoulder where it sat comfortably, trying its hardest not to fall asleep.

‘For every flower is a beauty to behold regardless of their shapes, their size or their colour that even a daffodil can be considered of equal beauty of a roses in someone’s eyes.’ Jing Yuan continues, looking at you from the corner of his eye to see whether his words were sinking in. ‘And my flower believes themself to be a withering daffodil but to me, they’re a rose unlike any other. Stubborn, strong willed, but.’

‘But?’ You echoed, nervousness creeping through your veins as Jing Yuan moved in front of you and leant forward so that he was right next to your ear.

‘But they refuse to accept words of their worth and beauty from someone who cares about them very much, but I hope to change that soon enough, if they let me.’ He whispers as he presses a kiss to your cheek and pulling away to plant a kiss to your forehead.

Dan heng

While he’s happy that you felt the same way towards him, but felt his heart sink when you told him to reconsider his feelings for you.

‘If you are not ready for a relationship, then I understand, but I wish that you wouldn’t look down upon yourself when you’re anything but what your mind is telling you that you are.’ He says as he holds your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes shone with concern. ‘Just know that I’ll always be by your side to resolve any issue you may have, for I do not wish for you to be burdened by this alone when I can help lessen it’s impact on you.’ He adds.

Dan Heng would do anything and everything in his power to make you see just how much you meant to him, even if it meant asking March to pull up pictures where his infatuation with you was glaringly obvious.

He would bring you poetry books and read out verses that perfectly describe his innermost thoughts and feelings towards you and how he views you on a daily basis. Dan Heng feels as though he could never convey just how truly unique and magnificent you were on his own. He’s tried but compared to the works of acclaimed poets, it just lacked fluidity in terms of the flow of words.

Everything else fades away when you entered his peripheral vision, almost as though he was made to notice your presence no matter where you were, only to just stare at you with a look that could only be akin to someone who had just found their other half after so long.

Welt would sit you down somewhere and want to talk about it because he truly didn’t think that these were your own words coming from your mouth.

He believes they were someone else’s and he hated that you had started believing this person’s words as reality, when they were the furthest thing from the truth in his eyes.

He wants to help you unlearn what everybody else has thought of you in the past because it doesn’t matter, their words hold no weight until you allow it to. No one’s perception of you was in any way shape or form a reflection of the real you, for every person you’ve ever had a positive effect on posses a different perceptions of you.

The only person who knew the real you was you but it was obvious to Welt that you might’ve forgotten who that version of you was by worrying yourself to death about the thoughts and opinions of everyone else. So Welt was more then happy to help you see that you were so much more then what you think.

He doesn’t know who wronged you in the past but they’ve left everlasting damage on your tender soul, but he was going to do everything he could in his power to show you the you that he sees every time upon seeing you.

Gallagher

‘I’ve got nothing to reconsider when it comes to you sweetheart.’ Gallagher was quick to tell you as he grabbed one of your hands, squeezing it. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘But-‘ you started.

‘No ifs, ands or buts.’ He interrupts you. ‘You’re prefect the way you are and I won’t hear otherwise because I’ll always go out of my way to remind you as to why i care about you, okay?’ He says as he lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Just let me take care of you and get rid of those pesky thoughts residing in your head by telling them to fuck off.’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at this as you allowed yourself to find comfort in Gallagher’s side as you were greeted by his bodily warmth that made you into melting further against him. ‘I just don’t want to be a bother to you that’s all.’ You murmured, insecurity making your throat tightened, rendering it hard to swallow.

Gallagher felt his heart break for you as he brought his arms to your waist to rub soothing patterns into your side as he presses his face to the side of your head, pressed reassuring kisses there as he whispered sweet nothings as to why you were perfect, beautiful, sweet and caring of all whom you come across, whether they were deserving of it or not.

Aventurine

He understands more then you knew because the moment you admitted to liking him in the same breath as berating yourself, he was about to ask what was it about him that you liked exactly.

You were both in the same boat that was about to capsize from your shared self hatred for yourselves, but Aventurine would be damned if he let you think of yourself in any negative light when you’ve been nothing but a beacon of pure, genuine light for him since first introductions.

He’d much rather be the one drowning in self doubt than you.

He’d have you stand in front of a mirror and asks what you see.

‘Someone who’s lost themselves along the way,’ you answered solemnly, ‘someone who’s lost sight of who they once were because they were too caught up in the opinions of others and waiting on them hand and foot, only to revive nothing but scraps.’ You added and Aventurine couldn’t help but feel himself becoming infuriated, not at you but at the people who have made you feel as though you were lesser than, who made you feel as though you should be outcasted because you didn’t fit into their narrative.

However the sound of your sniffling brought him out of his need to get back at these people for you and saw that you were beginning to tear up and was quick to wipe them away before they fell. ‘Don’t weep for people who don’t have a heart, for they’ll always think themselves superior by materialistic means that they will inevitably loose to time and bad decisions.’ He tells you as he rests his head on your shoulder, looking at you through the mirrors reflective surface. ‘You on the other hand have something that they could never hope to obtain via money.’ He adds.

‘And what’s that?’ You asked, looking into his eyes and noting that despite their dullness, they were still the most beautiful and expressive pair of eyes you have ever seen.

‘Empathy, humility, compassion, kindness and an appreciation for the simple things that many overlook and possess the ability to see the beauty in broken things.’ Aventurine replies, his voice becoming soft towards the end, clearly referring to himself, as he held onto you tighter as though you’d slip from his grasp much like everyone else had. ‘So don’t compare yourself to others who should be looking towards you as an example instead.’

You moved your head to properly look at him, not use to seeing this side of him, so serious and determined to make you see reason. ‘You really mean that?’

Aventurine smiles as he kisses you on the nose, chuckling. ‘Of course! You’re my good luck charm, I’d be hopeless and in a whole lot of trouble without you.’ He says as he presses another kiss to your nose, adoring your expression as you scrunched up your face, muttering under his breath. ‘Cute.’

[peonysgreenhouse]

-`♡´- lost signal.

summary: welt finds himself unable to contact you after your departure for amphoreus. (gn!reader x welt yang; astral express found family)

tags: 1.2k words, established relationship, fake texts, astral express family, fluff and longing, spoilers for 3.0's main quest!

“You’re worried.”

Even Himeko’s voice does little to turn his head from the window, watching as the Parlor Car trails off and away through the stars towards Amphoreus. Out of sight, out of Welt’s reach – he was never good at stepping back and letting things be. He has to keep himself from pressing his hand to the glass, from tracing his finger along each and every fleck of light you pass, as if you could somehow feel him there with you.

“Am I that obvious?” Welt asks, adjusting his glasses. He feels Himeko’s dress brush over his shoes, and still he cannot bring himself to tear his gaze away for even a second; even as the car disappears from view as it enters into Amphoreus’s orbit.

“I’m sure everything will go smoothly. You know how capable they all are.” Himeko reassures. 

Welt lets out a weary sigh. Of course knows that. You, Stelle, and Dan Heng made a formidable team. Still, the worry persists, gnawing like moths at an old dressing gown. 

“You are correct.” Welt starts, sighing again as his eyes flick to her momentarily, before looking back out the window. The stillness in the Express is disquieting; it seemed less of a home without all the noise. “But still, I worry anyways.”

Himeko gives him a knowing smile. “I’m sure you’ll hear from them soon.” She says, turning to walk back towards the door. “In the meantime, would you help me make dinner for March? She still isn’t feeling well.”

Welt softens at that, finally forcing himself to look away. He assures himself that you all would be okay, and hopes that is enough. “Of course.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Welt has done the math over and over again. He knows this planet is uncharted, but they knew the distance to the landing site, knew how strong the planet’s gravitational pull was... If things went perfectly, you all should have docked three hours ago. 

You had promised that you’d text him once you successfully made it planet-side. He rests on one of the couches in the main car, one hand resting on his cane, the other holding his phone. 

Perhaps he’s acting like a besotted old man… and a hovering parent to Stelle and Dan Heng. But still, he finds his hands itching to type out a message to check in. And so, he does:

He tries to rationalize the response (or, lack thereof) before the tide of worry can wash over him once again. It wouldn’t be surprising if it were just Stelle’s phone that had no connection – but you and Dan Heng? Neither of you would let that happen, especially at the beginning of an Expedition.

Perhaps signal didn’t reach Amphoreus. It would be the most logical answer – it was out of sight to all but the Memokeepers. Besides that, he can't help but think it's possible that you all could’ve crash landed...

Welt stands, and goes to wake Sunday.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You lean out the balcony of the private baths, your hand stretching upwards to the sky, phone in hand, as if you could reach up far enough to hand the messages to Welt. 

“That’s not how it works.” Dan Heng says, one hand behind his head as he relaxes in one of the lounge chairs. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, a quarter of his attention diverted from his book to make sure you don’t lose your balance and fall.

You hate that he’s right. This is all an exercise in futility, but still, it doesn't hurt to try. You hop up on the railing, carefully sitting yourself on the ledge of the balcony, stretching just a few more inches forward. Dan Heng pays a bit more attention to you.

“Dan Heng’s right.” Stelle interjects, her long silvery hair gliding on the surface of the water in the bath, sprawled out as if she had not a care in the world. “You need much longer arms.”

You huff, looking at the ‘No Signal’ message that hasn’t budged from the top of your phone’s screen since you crash landed in Amphoreus. You wish there was something you could do to reassure Welt that you would all be okay.

You imagine he’ll have a few more grey hairs when you see him next.

“You should get down from there.” Comes Dan Heng’s voice, closing the book he was skimming through. “I would prefer not to have to tell Mr. Yang that you fell to your death.”

You hear Stelle snicker, and it’s then you hop down off the railing, realizing you are supposed to be the mature one here. You turn your phone off, then go to sit on one of the empty lounge chairs, listening to the water flow as it pours into the bath. 

Welt would like it here, you think. After everything he’s done for you, for you all, he deserves a nice, warm bath. Perhaps once you've restored contact with the Express, you could convince him to relax, if for a little while.

You let that thought carry you into a fitful sleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In your absence, Welt spends the days with Sunday, exhausting their combined contacts to try and regain communication with you all. Each day seems to drag on, and yet he never finds enough hours to do all that he needs to do to ensure your safety. 

He should’ve just joined the Expedition… Welt hated, more than anything, not knowing; questions with too many variables to act on all at once. Especially when it involved those he cared about. 

Some of your things had been left in his room; he doesn’t have the heart to move them. A half-empty cup of tea that had long gone cold, the shape of your lips outlined in chapstick around the rim. The hotel key from your room in Penacony, sandwiched between one of his books you were borrowing; a makeshift bookmark that would no doubt end up damaging the binding. A picture of you, him, and Himeko taken in the jazz bar at the Reverie. Your hand is slung around their shoulders, and you’re winking at the camera, only slightly tipsy. The memory makes him warm with longing.

He sends another few texts your way, knowing they will not reach you. Still, it is nice to think of what he might say to you if he could.

At night, he sits in March’s room, watching to make sure her condition doesn’t worsen. The cold of the six-phased ice bites even through his overcoat.

Welt folds his hands in his lap, closing his eyes for a momentary rest. Come tomorrow they would go to the Space Station to search for answers; but for now, he would be present for March. It was all he could do.

[d0youc0py]

So, I have a request for angst, but with Young Reader, and they actually do call them an ask for help or a place to stay for a bit because of a nasty fight they got into with their parents and just need to leave the situation, perhaps they could have hid an injury(Welt, slap mark, bruising) from the boys only for boys to see it when they take off their coat/jacket. Its cool if you dont feel comfortable with this ask, you dont have to do it.

“Hey, John.” You started into the phone.

“You alright, Honey?” He questioned. You nearly rolled your eyes. The man had known you since you were as tall as his knee and could always tell when something was wrong.

“Not really.” You lied. You scrunched your face and took a deep breath. “Actually yeah- my mom came home in one of her moods again, but”-

“Where are you? I’ll come and get you.”

You could hear his car keys jingle on the other line and the familiar sound of his truck door slamming shut.

“I’m at the park down the street.”

“Hold tight, honey. I’ll be right there.”

It was about a fifteen minute wait. John lived all the way out in the country, another thing you loved about him. His truck pulled up and he quickly hopped out to open the door for you.

“Thanks John.” You sighed, giving him a quick hug.

“Course, honey. Now how about we go get some dinner, hmm?” He patted your back. It was gentle but enough to make you wince.

He took you to your favorite restaurant, the same one your father use to take you to. He sat across from you, not needing to look over the menu. His soft blue eyes trained on you.

“You ready to talk about it?” John asked. Your eyes peered up from behind the menu. You don’t know why you were even looking at it in the first place. You always ordered the same thing.

“Same old thing.” You responded, sifting in your seat.

“Don’t give me that, honey.” He pressed. “You’ve never called me before. I always hear about a fight after I’ve shaken you down.” He offered you a small smile. It’s wasn’t one of pity, but understanding. He’s always been there for you, so why won’t you just tell him the truth?

“Don’t get mad.” You whispered. John instantly faltered. It was a common cycle. When he was on leave he’d take you out at least two times a week. You’d tell him about some shitty thing your mom said to you and he’d race over to your house and threaten her to knock it off. She’d be on her best behavior for about a week, then the cycle would repeat itself. “Look you’re already upset.” You gave a fake chuckle.

“Honey.” He huffed. His eyes bore into yours with such intensity it made your tiny hairs stand up.

“It started off just like our fights always do. She started yelling and I just made my way to my room to bunker down for the night.” You stopped to take a small sip of your water.

“You locked the door?” John hummed. He had built you a special lock to go on your door.

“I didn’t make it that far.” You murmured, tears forming in your eyes. John’s hand reached across the table attaching to yours, giving you an encouraging squeeze. “She threw something at me.” You whispered.

“Threw something at you.” He repeated.

“I know it so stupid.” Your hands left his to paw at your eyes. You hated crying. His hands remained on the table giving you the option to return to him.

“She hurt you honey? That’s the furthest thing from stupid.”

“It was one of those ceramic cats she collects. It hit me in the back.” You gasped. You wouldn’t doubt if there was a large bruise forming as you spoke. “Do you mind if I stay with you for a little bit? Just till things cool down?”

“Honey, you could come live with me.” He assured. This wasn’t the first time he offered, but giving the increasing hostility your mother was showing this was the first time you really considered it.

“I don’t think I can just live with you, John. Isn’t that illegal- like kidnapping or something.” You sputtered.

“That’s not for you to worry about, honey. I’ll handle everything, just take some time and think about it.”

He woke up to the sound of glass shattering so loud it sounded like it was in his room. His body made quick work of throwing the covers off and heading towards his front door. He didn’t bother to shut his door behind him or throw on a pair of shoes. His body was already hot and shaking with anger. His fist pounded against your front door giving some warning of his presence before he used his shoulder to nearly split the door open.

He quickly found you on the floor your mother grabbing at your hair.

“Shit!” Your father yelled from the kitchen. Your father had been enjoying the whole spectacle of your mother tormenting you with a smile and a beer in his hand. Your mother look up at Simon, her own eyes growing wide with fear. He grabbed her by the arm throwing her backwards off of you.

“Who the fuck do you thi”- Your father started.

“Shut up and sit down.” Simon growled. Your father quickly obeyed siting down at the counter, your mother scurrying backwards to join him.

“Come on kid, on your feet.” He was soft with you, refusing to add anymore trauma to the situation. He wrapped an arm around your middle to steady you and you hid your face in shame.

“You can’t just take them. I’ll have the police dow”- Your father spoke up again.

“I told you to shut it. And what? You gonna call the police on me tough guy? Do it.” Simon spat. Your father piped down again the realization of his threat setting in. Simon led you out of your apartment and into his own. “Sit down, tell me where you’re hurt. Might need to take you to the hospital after that one, kid.”

The only way you could respond was through sobs. You practically threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. He sighed softly, not in contempt but in mercy. He wrapped a bulky arm around you, using your head as a chin rest. He related to you in all the worst ways.

“I don’t wanna go back.” You sobbed against him.

“I know you’re scared.” He said softly. “You’re gonna stay with me for a while, yeah? You have a key anyways might as well.”

He groaned as his phone went off from somewhere in his bed. He patted around, his eyes burning as the made contact with the blinding light.

Your face lighting up his phone ripped the drowsiness from his body.

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” His voice was gruff and he cleared his throat.

“Mac.” You cried from the other end.

“Fuckin hell.” He growled. “Where are you, sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry. They just started yelling at me and I got scared and now I don’t know what to do.” You sobbed.

“You did exactly what you were suppose to do. You called me. Now take a few breaths and tell me where you are. It’s late you shouldn’t be out by yourself.” He slipped his feet into his shoes and grabbed his keys from the entry table. He opened the door only to come face to face with you. His face scrunched as he took in your appearance. Your hair a mess, your face tear stained and you were shaking uncontrollably.

His heart dropped when he caught sight of a ruby colored mark on your cheek.

“That better not be what I think it is.” He gritted. You just cried harder. “Inside, now.” He snipped, making room for you brush past him.

“No, Mac please.” You sobbed. Your hands fled towards his arm and you leaned against him. You needed comfort. You needed assurance that everything was going to be okay.

“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. I can’t just let them get away with it Y/N.” He snarled. He gave you a kiss on the head. He began to pull his arm away but you just gripped him harder.

“Mac, please. I need you.” Your voice was soft. So weak and so vulnerable it made him stop dead in his tracks. “Please.” You whispered again. An apology flowed from his mouth and he quickly wrapped two strong arms around you, pulling you tight against him. You instantly relaxed.

“You’re right.” He murmured. “You’re safe now.”

“Ky, Can I stay with you please?”

You had asked him that a little over a week ago. He agreed immediately- perks of being one of his most favorite people on the planet. You didn’t really tell him why, just that you had gotten into a small ‘altercation’ with your parents.

That brings you to where you are today.

“If you don’t want me I can just leave Kyle.” You huffed, already collecting your things from the guest bedroom.

“Lovie, don’t do that!” He shouted after you. “My door is always open for you and you know that. I would just like to know exactly what happened. Considering you’re practically living with me now I think I have a right to know.” He explained. He grabbed the things out of your bag, hanging them up again.

“Kyle, stop! I’ve obviously overstayed my welcome. I’ll be out for your hair in no time.” You rubbed at your face harshly, trying to rid yourself of any tears.

“Y/N. Enough. Please stop.” His words were firm. It made you cry harder. “I didn’t mean to upset you so bad.” He assured. His hands came up and grabbed your wrists so he could get a better look at your face. He pulled you close to him. “I also need to know how upset I should be with your parents. If it’s really bad we need to get you out of there.” He explained. You sniffled, wiping at your face again.

It was then he saw it.

A deep purple bruise on your wrist. How didn’t you flinch when he grabbed it?

“That answers my question.” He sighed. You gasped and pulled your sleeves down. “Is that the only one?” He pressed. His fingers rested under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. He repeated his question.

You softly shook your head.

“I have one on my side too.” You sniffed.

“Y/N look at me please.”

You did as he requested.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you don’t have to go back, okay? But I need you to be completely honest about everything, yeah?”

A small sob left you and you quickly wrapped your arms around him.

“I love you, Ky.”

[johnwickb1tsch]

John Wick x You │Tarasov's Daughter

You are the eldest daughter of Viggo Tarasov. You’re smart enough to take over the family business, but you’ve always been overlooked because you’re a girl (their loss). But John Wick sees you. In fact he saw a lot of you, once, when he’d been your bodyguard for a brief time during a turf war back in the day. You’re not sure who seduced who really, but you’ve never forgotten the feeling of his big hands digging into your hips or his teeth in your shoulder while he fucked you against the marble top of your bathroom sink, watching you go to pieces for him in the mirror. Maybe he was even your first! You seethed with jealousy when you heard he left the Underworld to get married to a nice normal American lady and settle down in domestic bliss. You were actually allowed to DO that? No one in this life ever really got out. You can’t help but think that you could have made him just as happy as some boring middle-aged photographer. Helen. What a stupid name. So when the shit hits the fan after your dumbass brother Iosef disrespects John Wick (and kills his dog, what the actual fuck?) you wonder if John will come after you.

Pick your poison: Canon!John Wick │ Dark!John Wick │ Yandere!John Wick

18+, all the warnings, dead dove do not eat! Predator kink, size kink, kidnapping, dub-con, brat taming, dark!john, mean!John, yandere!John , jesus fucking crist tumblr u have broken me…🙃

Canon!John Wick

John doesn’t hurt women unless they are really REALLY giving him no choice (Looking at you, Perkins!). But you are the means to his end, so he doesn’t hesitate to take you for bait for Iosef and your father’s men. He is raw and back in full predator mode after taking a hiatus for five years. Of COURSE you piss him off, and when you try to escape he snaps. He still calls you moya milaya printcessa (my sweet princess)tho while he fucks you against the wall with his hand on your throat. When the idiots your father employs do finally come for you John kills them all, and your brother, and your uncle after taking back his car. He lets you go, and a part of you forever wishes that he’d kept you…

Dark!John Wick

You were always such a fucking brat back when he had to watch over you, and finally he can get his revenge. When you mouth off he undoes his tie and uses it to gag you, something he’s always wanted to do, and as you watch him whip off his belt with such calculated flourish you are practically sliding off your chair. He bends you over his knee, the way someone should have a long time ago, and he taunts you when he finds you’re soaking with slick in between whipping you. Is it just you, or is he not hitting you half as hard as he could tho? You don’t know and you don’t care, you’re 98 percent sure you’re not getting out of this alive, so you at least want to die having had his magnificent manhood inside you one last time. You are delirious by the time he soothes the welts on your ass with the light touch of his fingers. “Are you going to be my good little girl now?” he demands as he tosses you on the bed like you’re just a ragdoll. Like he wants to hear your reply, he removes his tie from your mouth.

“If you fill me up with that big beautiful cock of yours.”

He laughs at you, and you get the feeling he’s delighted by your sass, even in this cruel mood. “You don’t get to make the demands anymore, milaya.” He slaps your thighs apart and goes down on you, licking you relentlessly, bringing you to the edge again and again but never letting you cum.

“Please, please, please,” you beg and tears stream down your face as finally you watch him undo his pants. He has utterly broken you.

“You always were such fucking whiner,” he hisses, pulling your hair hard as he plunges himself inside your swollen cunt. You hate him for how good it feels as he fills every last inch and corner of you, and if you ever get your hands free you’re so going to make him pay for this.

Yandere!John Wick

John always carried a torch for you, but you were so off limits. The boss’s daughter. A sure death sentence, but it almost would have been worth it. He’d thought about you constantly for a good long while, your beauty and your body was burned into his brain, but then he met Helen, and that fire smoldered to red hot coals he kept in the back room of his twisted black heart. But when Iosef starts shit there is absolutely nothing to stop him from taking what he’s always wanted. He’ll make you his perfect little pet, one last bit of revenge against the Tarasovs for disrespecting him after all he’d done for them.

When you see him materialize from the shadows in the mirror behind you, you try to go for the gun you keep in the top drawer of your vanity. You’re half certain he’ll kill you for it, but you’re y/n Viggovna Fucking Tarasov, and you will not fucking beg like your little bitch of a brother undoubtedly did. You’re not surprised when he manages to disarm you in the blink of an eye. You wait for the blade in your throat or the gunshot in your gut but he just holds you in those inexorably strong arms, looking down at you with those burning dark eyes. He’s so tall, he’s so much bigger than you and that always turned you on.

“You’re mine now, printcessa.”

You know you’ve always been his but you hate being helpless. He kisses you hard, unforgivingly, possessively, and you try to bite him but he knocks you out with a headbutt. Ouch!

You wake up in a luxuriously appointed room that you just know in your gut is now your new prison. Wick is no fool. There are digital locks on the doors. There are windows that you know will be unbreakable. Your hands are bound above your head, and though you try to worm free it’s impossible. After a while John enters, straddling you on the bed. Even though your legs are free his weight pins you down, you are trapped, and you’re embarrassingly certain he can feel the heat that’s pooling between your legs for it. His face is covered in cuts, his knuckles are torn. He’s been through Hell, but he came out the other side, the way you begrudgingly knew he would. “Your family’s dead,” he tells you. “No one’s coming for you.” He doesn’t really seem to take any joy in it, his handsome face stoic as stone. “You belong to me now, and I hope your father rolls over in his grave every time I defile you.”

You try not to enjoy it while he rails you into the soft mattress, or when he touches you while he does it, his long fingers so exacting. He is a master of manipulating the human body, for pain or for pleasure. You think he makes you cum out of ownership over anything remotely tender, but he makes you see God so often it almost feels like he cares about you. He becomes your dark deity, the altar you worship on, even if just in the deepest depths of your heart. You still have some pride.

You still try to fight and still try to run, even though he punishes you every time. Maybe you’re made bold by the fact that he hasn’t killed you, where he killed everyone else. They were kind of assholes though. John kept you, after all, and you can’t fault his taste. You think he secretly loves the chase, maybe even admires you for fighting him when there really is no hope. He loves reminding you who is in charge though too, and on nights when he’s in a particular mood you know you won’t be able to sit without feeling it for a week.

[oneforthemunny]

christmas (baby, please come home) |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: it's not the most wonderful time of the year for everyone, including you and eddie.

apart of my munny's merriest that you can read here!

contains: angst. eddie is mean. past parental trauma. grief. holiday grief and sadness. angst really.

Heavy boots, covered with slush and snow from the frozen ground below, pounded up the creaking wooden porch. Eddie huffed, his breath clouding around him, a gloved hand reaching for the screen door. The toe of his work boots knocked against the doorway, kicking off the remainder of the snow from the icy, winter wonderland that arrived overnight, just in time for Christmas Eve. With it, came an icy chill that had Eddie working overtime to make sure the horses were warm. 

It was an odd feeling, walking into the mud room, plopping on the bench to pull off his boots. Eddie waited, inhaling in the cold, crisp air, waiting for the warmth to flood back to his system. That cozy heat to thaw out the chill that shocked his system, left his cheeks red and frost bitten from the cold. The euphoric feeling of relief that coated him every time he walked in from the snow. It never came. 

In fact, it felt colder in the house. 

In the house that was decorated, halls decked and every square inch covered with Christmas. The usual homey contentment that came from looking at the decorations was gone, replaced with a miserable, heavy feeling settled deep in the pit of his stomach, feeling him with a sickening guilt. 

Visions of your fight, hateful words piled on with yells and slamming doors, right there in the kitchen. A kitchen that should be filled with Burl Ives’ Christmas album on a loop was missing its merry music; it was missing you. 

“We always spend Christmas with my family.” 

“Yeah, exactly. It’s always about you, what you wanna fuckin’ do!” 

Eddie could see your face as if it was in front of him again. The way your expression fell, crumbling before him, the betrayal in your eyes rimmed with flecks of hurt. It made his stomach turn all over again. 

“You don’t- I thought you liked spending time with my family.” Your voice was small, far too small for your usual tone. “They always love spending time with you, Ed.” 

“Oh, yeah, to you they do.” He scoffed, eyes rolling so hard he gave himself a headache. He could feel it now. “You always leave me with your asshole uncle, who always wants to tell me the same goddamn story about how he used to ride horses growin’ up, like I give a shit-” 

“-Eddie! He’s trying to be nice and talk to you, so you’re not-” 

“-So I’m not miserable? Well, guess what, honey. I’m fuckin’ miserable!” His voice was so loud it shook the wooden cabinets of the kitchen, your tin snowmen rattling on top of the shelves. “I am fuckin’ miserable every Christmas! I would rather be here alone, shovelin’ shit all goddamn night and day than be there!” 

The hitch in your breath rang loud and clear in Eddie’s ear, his own face crumpling this time, a shaky hand rubbing across his eyes to try and keep his composure. But how could he? How could he stop the ache in his chest when he remembered the way you looked at him? The way your eyes filled with tears, lip quivering in fear. You hadn’t cried, not in there, atleast. Instead, you waited until you got to the bedroom, pulling out your own little overnight bag and filling it silently. 

He’d been so furious, so unfathomably filled with weeks of pent up rage, Eddie had to step out. Fury filled steps, a swinging fist to a post that left his knuckles bloody, splintering into the pale skin that was already blooming with bruises. Eddie really regretted it now, sure he’d broken a knuckle at the way it had swelled, doubled in size and kissed with dark purple, welt-like bruises. Oh, what he would do, what he would give, to have you fuss over it, patch it up and huff at him for doing something so immature. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you stayed silent, save for the heart wrenching, hiccupy sniffle you gave when loading your bag into the trunk. Eddie’s body was still buzzing, electric with every ounce of bitter grief he’d tried to ignore. 

“Where you goin’?” Eddie gritted, tone sharp, it left you shuddering at the unfamiliar sharpness directed at you. 

“You want to shovel shit, since it’s so much better than being with my family.” Your breath stuttered in your chest when you took that breath. One that had Eddie’s heart lurching, nervous system flooding with a damning shock that left his head reeling in fear. 

“Better than being with me.” The crack in your voice matched the crack in Eddie’s own heart, splitting it right down the middle. 

“I don’t want to make you any more miserable than you already are.” You spat, and suddenly, Eddie longed for the sadness in your tone because the bitterness that replaced it was worse. 

Your own boots crunched on the ground, bare with snow and ice, but frozen from the cold. “Have a Merry Christmas by yourself, Eddie.” A hard yank of your car handle, and you were gone. 

Eddie watched you go in a horrified stare, your car disappearing down out of his sight in a red flash, feeling like he was watching a movie- a fucked up movie through his own eyes, but not in his own body. 

Then he was alone. 

Eddie was alone, standing on his family’s land, holding his throbbing hand alone. He was alone then. He was alone later that night, when he crawled into bed, teary eyes and shaking hands grabbing at your pillow, smothering himself with it because it smelled like you- terrified it might be the last time he could smell you. And he was alone now. Sitting in a too still kitchen, in a too quiet house, on Christmas Eve, alone. 

The burning threat of tears choked him, bubbling out of his chest and crept up his throat. Through blurred vision, Eddie could see the time. A little past four. He wondered what you were doing, what your family was doing. If your dad had started a card game yet. The same Rummy game he always made sure to deal Eddie in to- always made sure to include him. 

If your uncle was on his fourth or fifth glass of eggnog, spiking it with an extra pour of Woodford. He’d always offer Eddie some, slurring and spilling a little onto the festive tablecloth. Drunkenly tell him about his childhood, how he grew up riding horses, the same droning story that Eddie would always nod politely at. He was sloshed through the holidays, but never mean- always a jolly drunk, bellowing laughs through shining eyes. No smashing of plates or bruising grips like Eddie’s childhood Christmases always had. 

Or if your mom had got a chance to breathe, pull herself out of the kitchen with your aunts. She’d always hug him so warmly when she’d greet the two of you at the door, fussing over taking your bags and jackets, so happy the two of you were there. She’d even embroidered a stocking for Eddie last year, surprised him with it proudly. He’d nearly cried. 

It was a weird feeling. This feeling that he was becoming a part of your family. That they wanted him to be a part of it. 

He only had Wayne left, the rest of his family was long gone. It filled him with a grimy, gross feeling how much he enjoyed his time with your family. The sickening thought that he was betraying his own, replacing them and filling in their spots with shiny, new replicas. 

Wayne would laugh at him, tell him he should enjoy it, he better enjoy it. “You know Darlene and me go to Florida ev’ry Christmas, boy. You better stick it with ‘er. She’s a good’en.” 

Wayne would be furious at him if he knew. Probably take him ‘round back for the way he spoke to you, about your family. Eddie wouldn’t blame him, he was furious at himself for it. 

Eddie’s eyes found their way to the mantle, your stocking and his lined side by side. His was full, stuffed with small gifts and goodies you’d cheerily slip in, tongue clicking at him when he’d try to peek. Yours was deflated, sans for a small pair of cabin socks Eddie had got in early November. 

The bile in his throat brought him back to his very cruel reality in front of him. He’d been mean to you- he acted like his dad. 

Eddie’s stomach lurched, moving to the sink, a shaking hand pulling his hair back, retching into the sink at the revelation. Parallels of his mom and dad, his childhood, how his mom would decorate the house from top to bottom, make it nice and festive for Eddie. His dad would come in, tear it down, mock her for it in a drunken slur. She’d always buy him a gift, make sure Eddie’s stocking was filled with what she could: penny candies, knitted gloves, dented wacky packs from the discount store. Eddie would make her an ornament, his Mamaw Munson would get her a little gift, but never his dad. Her stocking was always empty. 

A choked sob caught in Eddie’s throat, vomit spewing into the shiny surface under him. Clammy forehead pressed to the cool countertop, he took a deep, shaky sob to try and keep the cry in. The mangled sob that shook his core, rattled his lungs, burned all the way from his stomach to his nose. 

Calloused hands wiped at his wet cheeks, chapped from the cold, giving a fierce sniffle. Eddie felt eight again, noticing for the first time the way his mother’s eyes dimmed, how she tried to hide it when she opened the empty stocking. She had been hopeful that there had been something in there, that this year his dad would remember her, be better. He never was. 

Eddie couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t be. He’d already reflected him in every way, too much for his own comfort lately- screaming at you, that rage that tore through him, bloody knuckles and aching throat that was leaving you in tears. 

As his shaking fingers turned the dial, cradling the phone to his ear, he hoped you would answer- that he could just get to you, talk to you. Your mother’s cheery voice rang over the phone instead, a happy roar of chatter mixed with music playing behind her voice. 

“Oh, Ed?” Your mother’s voice sounded concerned, he could practically see her frown, one you inherited. “Are you feeling better, hon? We miss you. I’m sending your stocking and gifts home- well, not the stocking, I’ll keep that but what’s inside.” 

You’d told them he was sick, covered for him- just like his mom used to do for his dad. The kindness in her tone nearly sent Eddie over the edge, pulling the receiver away to take a breath, to keep the sob from coming out. 

“Ed?” Your mom tried again. “Are you there?” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m sorry. I just… Is s-she around?” Eddie’s voice was tight with emotion, and he knew if he said your name, it would break whatever facade he’s mustered at the moment.

“Uh-huh, one second.” A staticy rustle filled the receiver, your name muffled and falling from your mom’s lips. 

Eddie didn’t realize he was holding his breath, until he released it, a desperate sigh of relief when you took the phone. “Hello?” 

“H-Hi, baby.” Eddie tried, hoping his voice was soft enough, gentler now- than the last time he talked to you. 

“Hi.” You bit, through gritted teeth, dragging the chord of the phone into the hall with you. “What do you want? I’m with my family.” 

His water line brimmed again, overflowing with angry tears. “Yeah, I know, honey. I’m sorry, I just,” Eddie took a deep breath, stuttering in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

Your own lip wobbled, fresh with tears. You’d pulled into your parents drive the night before, eyes red rimmed from your cry, telling them something about the hay and your allergies. They’d believed you, pulled you in with a warm hug. It was nice, comforting at your home, surrounded by your family until you were asleep. A bed had never felt so cold.

 “I don’t-” You grit, trying to keep your own emotions in. “This is why you called me?” 

Eddie flinched at the venom in your own tone. “I am sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby, you don’t even kno-ow.” Eddie’s chest stuttered. “I didn’t mean any of that, I swear. I was- I’m just… I’m not doing great this year, baby.” 

Your heart jumped at the shake in his tone, the rawness of his words. “You really hurt my feelings, Ed.” You admitted, your voice smaller. “I don’t- I don’t know why you don’t like my family. They love you-” 

“-I don’t.” Eddie shook his head, fist balled around the phone. “I didn’t mean any of that. I love your family, I-I love you.” 

“So, you said all of that, why?” You scoffed lowly. 

Eddie’s knee bounced. He hadn’t expected you just to forgive him, but it was still hard- hard when you weren’t here, when you were away and hurt, and he was alone and miserable. 

Miserable, the single word in the world he wished to never say or hear again. 

“I…” Eddie’s hand threaded through his matted locks. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Not- no, no, no, not you or- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Eddie rambled stupidly. 

“I feel weird about being with your family on Christmas because…I like it.” Eddie’s vision was blurred, watery with tears. “It’s just different from what I grew up with, and… and I don’t know, sometimes it’s just, it’s overwhelming, baby.” 

You stayed silent on the other end, the only sound signaling you were still on the line was the faint yells and mummers of your family, only making Eddie’s heart ache even more. “They’re all so nice, it-it makes me… I didn’t have that. My family didn’t have that, and-and every time I’m there it just makes me wish they did.” 

The both of you fell into a silence, one that was becoming far too common. Eddie’s heart hammered behind his ribcage. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. This- nothing is your fault, you know that? This is on me. I shouldn’t have ever talked to you like that, said that shit. I’d beat the dog walking shit out of anyone who said that shit about you, and then I say it? That’s just-” Eddie let out a humorless, watery laugh, fist pressed to his forehead in an attempt to extinguish that fury burning through his chest again. 

A cleansing breath later, Eddie’s head was in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, wobbly when he told you. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“It’s… We can talk later, Eddie.” Your voice finally rang through, shaky and unsteady, clutching the phone like it was your life long. “Thank you for calling me. For telling me that.” 

The silence settled again, both of you unsure, scared to make the next move. 

“I, uh, I wish you were here.” You broke the silence this time. “My family keeps asking about you. They miss you, a lot.” 

“I miss you.” Eddie sniveled, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. “I mean, I miss them too, but I just… I miss you a lot.” 

A pause, the slight clear of your throat. “I have to go.” You whispered, voice tight and Eddie knew you were close to tears. “I have to help my mom set the table, but… I’ll call you tonight.” 

“I love you.” Eddie blurted, sacred he might forget to say it with how his head was swimming. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 

“I know.” Your voice was soft. It made Eddie’s stomach lurch all over again. 

The line droned in a steady beep after your receiver clicked. Eddie held the phone there, eyes shining dully with unshed tears in the lights of the strung decorations. A defeated slump in his shoulders. He didn’t feel any better, worse if anything. 

Eddie was surrounded by a deafening silence, the house too quiet. Too quiet to be Christmas. Too quiet without you. 

The soft glow from the barn pulled Eddie’s attention, the doors pulled to keep the heat in for the horses. He twisted the phone in his palms, turning it over in his hands gently before jabbing his fingers back into the dial. 

The line rang once, twice, nearly a third before it was answered. 

“Gare, hey, I’ve got a big ask…” 

“Honey,” Your mom’s eyes squinted, yellow rubber gloves dunked into the soapy warm water in front of her. “I thought you said Ed wasn’t coming.” 

You nearly dropped the plate you were drying, breath caught in your throat. “What?” You hissed, leaning to look out the small window over the sink. Sure enough, there in the dark, snow covered driveway was Eddie’s truck. 

“I-I didn’t think he was.” You shook your head, setting the plate down gently. “He said he wasn’t feeling well. I’m just- I’ll be right back.” Slipping on your boots, not bothering to lace them, you stepped outside into the frigid cold of the night. 

Eddie didn’t see you, back turned, grabbing armfulls of bags out of the back seat. “What are you doing here?” 

He jumped, nearly dropping your aunt’s present, eyes wide when he turned. “Shit, I-I…” Eddie’s tongue tied, jumbled and thick in his mouth. He didn’t expect to see you, standing there, in your little Christmas sweater that had his heart swelling. He wanted to kiss you, coo at you for being so cute, get you all blushy and giggle at his compliments. 

Your lifted brow, arms crossed over your chest protectively stopped him. “I wanted to give your family their gifts. I-I was just going to leave them on the porch and tell you when I called tonight.” 

Your foot twisted into the snow, eyes cast downward. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did.” Eddie nodded firmly. “They’re not- It’s not great. The mall was closing early so I had to kinda rush, but, uh, I wanted to get them something.” He looked at you, eyes shining with emotion. “Wanted to get you something too.” 

Your stocking was hooked onto his left pointer finger, a crooked bend of the knitted fabric, hanging heavy and filled with tiny trinkets and things that ruffled. You looked at it carefully, face quipping just barely, but Eddie caught it. “I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.” Eddie muttered lowly, breath showing under the glow of the lights. 

“Thank you.” You nodded, swallowing thickly around your words. “I can help you take them in.” 

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to… I know you don’t want to be with me right now, baby, and I get it. I’ll just drop them off-” 

“-Come inside.” You sighed, arms still tight around his chest. “My mom already saw you. It’s just easier for you to come in.” 

Eddie tried to hide the hurt he felt with a simple nod. “I don’t want to ruin your Christmas.” He muttered softly. “More than I already have.” 

“Eddie,” You sounded tired, words heavy with emotion, exhaustion maybe. “Come inside.” Your eyes lifted to his, so sweet, nearly pleading he was sure he might sob. “There’s still leftovers. I’ll heat them up for you.” 

So Eddie followed you inside, gifts under his arms, letting your family greet him warmly, chocking his red eyes and matching nose up to the hay fever he’d been having. Your mom fixed him a plate, poured you both a glass of mulled wine. 

In the tiny bed of your childhood room, the two of you talked in hushed voices, silent apologies traded over soft touches. 

“I didn’t mean it.” Eddie whispered, nose pushing into your neck. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” You nodded, and you did. Even if it still hurt, still wounded from the words, you knew that was true. 

Eddie’s cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands grabbing at you, pulling you closer and closer like at any moment you might disappear from his clutches. “My mom,” His voice cracked, eyes pinching shut. “She used to love Christmas.” 

“Really?” You hum, tone as even as it could be with the shock. Eddie never spoke about his mother. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “She, uh, she used to decorate every Thanksgiving. Pull out the tree after dinner, put it up. My dad,” Eddie swallowed around the bitter title. “He was always passed out by then, so she could do it pretty quickly. Get it up and ready before he’d wake up and bitch. It wasn’t a lot, a tree and some other stuff, but I’d always help her. She-She always let me put the angel on top.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, what you were supposed to say. Eddie’s mom was a sensitive spot. One he didn’t talk about much, at all, really. 

“She would really like your family.” Eddie’s voice was small, a rarity. Always the loud, rough and tough cowboy, commanding wild bucks all day. Small wasn’t in his vocabulary. 

“They would have really liked her.” You said slowly, vibrations from your voice tickling Eddie’s ear. 

Eddie knew it was true. He felt stupid, really, waves of horrible guilt crashing over him again as he clung tighter to you. Your family wasn’t the enemy, wasn’t one to try and replace his own family, just an extension. 

He meant what he said, that his Mama would like your family. He already knew she’d love you, simply because he did. He hoped it was true, that your family would’ve loved her. He knew deep down they would have, that they would welcome her with the same warmth that they gave him. 

That they’d always make sure her stocking was full on Christmas morning, because they always made sure his was. 

[pauli-writes]

ever since 2.7 the sunday short(s) you made live rent free in my head.... how would reader react to him joining the ae after all of that 😣😣

warning: idk what to write here, themes of trauma and healing?

pairing: sunday x reader

author‘s note: thank u anon for waking me up from my hiatus with this. i was so creatively drained, but this request gave me new life. im probably gonna do all of the event stuff in the new year, so you can still request on that if you want. also happy belated holidays to all of you!

part i ☆ part ii

“no.”

“but reader-“

“i said no. i don’t want him here.”

march 7th and the trailblazer were looking at you with wide eyes, while welt, himeko and dan heng were a little more understanding to your seemingly drastic reaction to the newcomer of the astral express, who at the moment was standing awkwardly a little further away from the group.

“maybe we should talk about this in private?” dan heng suggested, but you only brushed him off.

“there is nothing to talk about. you asked me a question and i gave you an answer, i’m sorry if it doesn’t satisfy you.” with that you left the parlour car, the door closing shut behind you with a heavy thud. there was a tense silence that followed as the remaining members of the astral express exchanged worried glances.

himeko was the first to speak. “they’ll come around. this is just a lot for them.”

“himeko is right,” welt added calmly, “they’ll talk when they’re ready.”

later that day you were ghosting around the party car, unable to fall asleep. you supposed a snack and something to drink would do the trick. the earlier encounter was still heavy in your mind, replaying over and over again like a broken cassette tape. you know you were being mean and unreasonable, but you were just too overwhelmed with emotion to think reasonably.

as you got your drink and snack from shush, you turned to walk back to your room only to find sunday, staring out the window. the sight stirred something in you, a strange feeling of nostalgia, melancholy and hurt all mixed into one. you wanted to walk away, return to your room and never speak of this again, but just in that split second he turned his head and the two of you locked eyes for a split second, before he turned back toward the window. a moment of silence passed between the two of you, before he spoke up.

“the view is beautiful…” his voice was subdued, almost sad as he spoke, a stark contrast to the assured way he talked previously.

“i suppose it is…” you replied awkwardly, “i haven’t payed attention in a while.”

another stretch of silence passed between the two of you. you pondered if you should just leave, avoid the awkwardness, but before you could walk away he spoke up again.

“i apologise for any distress i caused you with my request to join the express. that was never my intention.” he turned away from the window and looked at you properly. you could see his expression, it was different that before, he looked sadder, remorseful even. this was a different sunday, that much was clear to you now.

you sighed and avoided his gaze uncomfortably, “you never mean to, but you still do it…”

sunday’s face fell at your words as a slight realisation fell upon him, he let out a small humourless laugh. “of course, i owe you an apology for that too…” he said mostly to himself, before clearing his throat and properly addressing you. “i see now that my actions were selfish. keeping you inside, wasn’t for you, it was for me… i know this apology doesn’t make up for what did, but i hope it makes traveling with me… easier.”

you looked to the ground silently. your emotions were all over the place at the moment. his apology didn’t help. there was a time were you hated him, but as you distanced yourself from what happened and looked back, you knew that sunday wasn’t solely responsible for what happened, his environment, the people around him, shaped him into that person. so, couldn’t blame him entirely anymore.

you took a deep breath and looked up at him. “i don’t what to feel anymore… the astral express was the first place where I was free to do as i please, it’s my home… somehow it feels wrong having you here.” you paused for a moment, looking for the right words, “but my reaction earlier was harsh, i can see you’re making an attempt to redeem yourself and that’s… comforting. i just need time and space to… to process everything.”

sunday looked at you, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “of course, i understand. thing like that take time.”

for the first time that day you smiled, only a little, but a smile all the same. sunday couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile, but he was glad to see that again. “thank you… well, i’m off to bed then. good night.”

he straightened himself and nodded, returning the small smile. “good night, reader.”

[worldcleansingdragon]

Thinking about Dan Heng and Himeko's relationship...

They're literally mother and her son, your honor! Himeko was the one who found Dan Heng and, after he helped her, she offered him becoming a nameless.

(the fact that Dan Heng only joined in after she said he can leave whenever is incredibly sad.)

Himeko is a really observant person, I imagine she saw that Dan Heng did want to join, but was hesitant. That's why she started saying all those things, not to force him into joining but to make him realize that he wants to join out of his own free will.

Himeko notices everything about Dan Heng. She noticed how he became less cold and more open to TB and March, she noticed how much more comfortable he is, she noticed that he wouldn't even join if he hadn't been given an actual job.

That brings me to a pure headcanon of mine:

At first, Dan Heng disliked Himeko. He disliked her because of how observant she was and how easily she could see right through him.

Dan Heng is a person who appears to be stoic, cold, and a one who, quite frankly, doesn't give a fuck. Yet Himeko immediately noticed how he wanted to join, she immediately noticed that he isn't a cold-hearted douchebag but a kind child, who's been hurt by the world. Himeko has read through him the moment he stepped onto the Express.

And Dan Heng probably hated that.

He respected her as his senior, as someone with lots of knowledge. Yet, the way she could read him like an open book was too much. He felt watched by her, even if it wasn't true. He felt like Himeko would use it against him.

Yet, Himeko never did. She would never use that knowledge against him. If so, it only helped. Himeko probably knew about Dan Heng's nightmares, she was there for him countless of times. She didn't say anything about them, she just sat with him, waited till he calmed down and fell asleep. The next day, she didn't try to talk with him about it, no. She left it the way it was.

Dan Heng realized that maybe Himeko's observation skills weren't so bad. Perhaps, they worked in his favour. He didn't have to voice out the vulnerable feelings that we're threatening to spill. Himeko would notice and wait for him, she would never try and make him talk.

That's when Dan Heng has begun to warm up to Himeko, the same way he did to Welt.

We also know that Himeko makes extremely bitter coffee... And Dan Heng is the only express member who can handle it.

Is it because he genuinely likes it? Does he want to test his senses? Or maybe, he doesn't want to upset the woman who has given him love, home and comfort when he needed it the most? Who knows.

What we definitely know is how badly Dan Heng respects Himeko and how he's ready to help her with everything, just for giving him a chance. "Himeko, you can leave any contingencies to me." is probably his way of thanking her for all she has done for him. He wants to take things off of her shoulders and show her how grateful he is.

(Also, in the JP dub, he calls her "Himeko-San", which also says a lot about his respect towards her.)

[descendantsramblings]

Hello! Could I request a story about descendants 3 Hades x fem!reader? Preferably if the reader is hurt physically, and a hurt/comfort main theme? Thank you💕

Honestly, D3 Hades is so likable to me, I love Hades. I really wished D4 had used him more (or even that D3 had used him more. He's so interesting and at least in D4 he feels sorta dumbed down to just "dude in leather jacket" which is lame)

Let Me See

Hades x Villain Reader

Pronouns Used: she/her/hers

Summary: Her need to be independent keeps leading Hades' wife to getting in fights, she really got herself into it this time

Warnings: Injury and blood, Reader and Uliana have unexplained issues with each other, crying, hurt/comfort nonsense except they argue as a form of affection, Death mention, pet names as insults + insults as pet names, minor swearing

Word Count: 2.2K

    (Y/n) and Uliana never got along well in high school. It didn’t take a genius to know that Uliana only let her stick around back then because of Hades. The sea witch would never willingly let a god- especially the god of the underworld- slip out of her grip over something as petty as disliking some girl. She was better than that, smarter than that. So despite the obvious tension between them as teens, the girls were always around each other. And you hear the stories of kids who didn’t get along in high school that find their way into a fond friendship in their adult years, but those two would never be that. She understood that now. Stories like that came from changed levels of maturity, something that didn’t always come to those on the Isle. From the blood dripping from her nose and arm to the welts in the shape of suction cups on her cheek, (Y/n) had learned that maturity had not come to Uliana. Why had she even gone over there? She should have known the weaker sea witch would still be doing foolish things to even seem partially as nasty as her older sister. Especially now that Hook had sold his precious Jolly Roger to her niece; anyone knew that Uli would’ve seen that as a form of betrayal. It was like the last ties of high school affections had finally been cut, nothing to protect her from the compensating aggression of Uliana now. 

    As she quietly makes her way into the lair, holding her breath in hopes of Hades being asleep. She didn’t want to deal with whatever “I told you so” statements the man would have if he saw the state she was in. He told her not to go see the sea witch, “nothing good can come from visiting a girl who hated you in highschool”. She hated that he was right, he was always right. It was exhausting, she just wanted to prove him wrong once. She makes her way to the bathroom, nearly making it without incident. Of course though, it was only nearly, Zeus must have cursed her luck when they sent her to this god forsaken island. The cut on her arm gets caught on the ragged edge of the door’s strike plate, eliciting a loud string of swears to fly from her mouth as the skin of her arm gets tugged to the side. Her hand flies to her mouth, the motion hitting her swelling cheek and already injured nose, tears welling in her eyes. She was not winning today, with Uliana or herself it seems. 

    If the loud swearing didn’t already have Hades on his feet, the strangled sob that followed it would have; the god flying from his recliner to the source of the noise as if his life depended on it. When he rounds the corner his eyes lock on (Y/n), taking in her hunched over posture. His wife is white knuckling the counter, staring down at the stained bowl of the sink while her shoulders shake with what he’s almost positive are silent sobs. It takes everything in him to be quiet, waiting to gauge how she was planning to react. He slinks into the bathroom, closing the door and leaning on it. His arms cross over his chest, knee bending to prop his leg up against the hollow wood as he stands there, watching, waiting. She’d noticed him, Hades knew she did. Shoulders stilling with a shaky breath as she reaches up to wipe her eyes, the motion making her let out a pained whimper. 

   “Give me your worst,” despite mumbling it she knows that he hears her. “You think you can handle the worst of two real villains back to back, Princess?” Hades doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s rolling her eyes, some part of him can just feel it. The idea makes him smile softly, eyes casting up and down her body. “Uliana is not a real villain, don’t stroke her fragile little ego like that. She’s just a brat with anger issues. That’s all she’s ever been.” He chuckles, using his leg to push himself off the wall and over to her, hands finding their foundation on her shoulders. “You know, that’s tough talk coming from you, Princess. Maybe that’s how she got you in this little situation.” He presses a kiss to the back of her head, waiting for her to look up to him so he can kiss her properly. Hades knew better than to rush the woman though, she would surely reject the touch if it wasn’t her decision. She hated being told what to do in any sense, even if it was just him tilting her head towards him. Everything she did had to come from her own ideas. If pressed, he’d admit it was part of the reason he fell for her. In a vague attempt at sounding put together she lets out a cheap scoff, “I’m not crying over some sea witch, I just ended my affair, idiot.” It’s followed by a broken laugh, and though she doesn’t look up to him, she leans further into his touch. “Oh yeah? Who was my unlucky competition? Gaston? Hook? Jafar perhaps? Oh I know, that little snake finally got his hands on you, he wanted you so bad in school.” He’s laughing, rubbing his hands up and down her arms as speaks, the tone far too light for her to think he took her joke as anything but. “Maleficent, obviously. It was always her,” she mumbles, hissing as his hand unknowingly brushes the cut on her forearm. The man snatches his hand away from her, looking down to see the slick blood covering his fingers. The bubbling joke he had about how they had the same taste dies as he sees it. Who did Uliana think she was? If she thought she could hurt his woman like that she had another thing coming. 

     “What did she do to you?” There’s a fire behind it and his wife knows that if the barrier didn’t prevent it his head would be bursting into vibrant flames. She tries not to think about how much she misses the sight of it. “Nothing big, I can handle it. I just need the first aid kit, and some ice. You think you could go get me something cold?” He hums, pressing a kiss to one of her shoulders, “I’ll be right back with it. I moved the first aid kit to the bottom drawer.” She nods, leaning down to open the drawer once she hears the door close behind him. The old red plastic lost its shine a long time ago, potentially before they even got it. Not that it mattered, it still worked, she kept it stocked well enough. When you’re known for stupid things you have to be prepared for stupid prizes, don’t you? It opens with a satisfying click, the lid clattering against the counter noisily. She rustles through it one handed as she searches for her butterfly bandages to close her arm up. The boxes had broken at some point, leaving different sizes all over the container. Or someone had emptied them in the box, seems like something Celia could’ve done if Hades pissed her off. The idea made the woman giggle, imagining the little girl standing in her bathroom tearing apart boxes with that grumpy little pout on her face. She’d have to ask her about it the next time the kid came by. If not her, probably her stepson, Hadie and his dad always had to have something to argue about. 

    “What’s got you giggling?” He’s holding one of those old ice packs they got right after getting back together, one the baby ones she’d snagged for a much younger Mal and Hadie. Smiling at his wife as she shuffles through the box in front of her. “Someone spilt all the band-aids in here. Which would be a lot funnier if I wasn’t looking for those little butterfly ones that hold things closed.” He hums, putting the boo boo ice in her hand and taking the box from her. “Let me see.” She holds the cold gel pack to her welts, hissing at the sensation as she forces herself to lean into it. “I bet this was Hadie,” he grumbles, sifting through and throwing the tiny bandages into his other hand’s palm. “I thought Celia did it,” she mumbles, watching his hands intently, “You did piss her off something fierce last week.” Another chuckle falls from his lips, placing the tiny bandages and a large wrap bandage on the counter. “You need to hop on this counter and let me see what we’re working with.” She scoffs, popping her hip against his, “Who said this was a two person job?” The man tilts her head to him, taking in the swollen cheek and dried blood with a scowl. “I said. You don’t get to ‘strong independent woman’ this, you’re hurt, I’m helping. Now hop on the counter yourself or I’m putting you on it.” 

    She plants her feet, tilting her head as if to challenge the man. “I don’t need help. Didn’t need help getting hurt, don’t need help cleaning myself up.” His brow raises, stepping closer to her and dipping his head down so their noses touch, “You’ve done enough fighting today, haven’t you? And it looks like you lost to me, get on that counter.” “You haven’t seen the other guy,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest on instinct. A hiss follows directly after, the raw skin on her left arm slipping over her vest’s zipper in a way that felt like it was chewing the wound. “Uh huh,” he grabs her hand, pulling her injured arm to him. It wasn’t anywhere that he had to worry about. No major vessels in the way, the skin simply oozing blood instead of spurting it. That’s good, he was worried after he saw it on his own skin.  

     She doesn’t fight it when his hands wrap around her hips, lifting her like she weighed nothing and setting her on the bathroom counter. “I am making sushi out of that fool.” He doesn’t intend for her to hear him but the giggle she lets out is comforting all the same. “And you have got to stop doing the opposite of what you think I want you to do just because you don’t want to listen to anyone else. You can’t keep doing shit like this, (Y/n). I’m going to end up losing you.” It makes the air around them heavy, Hades turning to the linen closet to grab a wash rag. She opens her mouth to respond, just to realize she didn’t have anything of substance to say. What could she say? You’re going to lose me anyway if we’re stuck here? He was immortal and she wasn’t. No way he didn’t lose her. You got me back the last time? Something told her that he wouldn’t like her reminding him she left him seventeen years ago. And she didn’t like the idea of being reminded that she’d get to go to the underworld before he’d ever be able to go back, separated for so long her soul might forget him. Instead she sighs, eyes locked on Hades’ every minor movement. He runs water over the rag and when it touches the aggravated skin on her arm; she nearly moans at the contact. The chill of it was so comforting, the gentle strokes he’s using keeping the normally exfoliating fabric as nothing more than a tickle against her skin. Tongue slightly poked out as he pulls the skin closer together, eyes cutting up to her every now and then to insure that he wasn’t hurting her. “Hold that.” She follows the order, too tired -or perhaps too relieved by his help- to argue. He places the little butterfly bandaids over the opened flesh in sets of two, six of the little things covering the cut total, before grabbing the wrap bandage from beside her. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he mumbles, wrapping the gauze-like material around her, “Not too tight?” She shakes her head, “It’s fine.” 

    With her arm handled he turns to her face, touching her chin ever so slightly to turn her head from side to side. “I hated when she’d accidentally hit me with those slimey things back in highschool, can’t imagine how it felt to be hit with one on purpose.” She hums, watching him lift the now bloodied rag again. “Sucked.” He rolls his eyes, “Yeah? I bet it did, Princess.” The rag comes up to her nose, wiping blood away from her top lip. “At least it’s not broken, just bled a little.” She nods, nothing left to say as he raises the ice pack to her cheek again. “You’re definitely going to have some bruises on that cheek though. Lucky for you, I still think you’re hot when you’re all beat up.” Her eyes roll but there’s an adoring glow to her face that he doesn’t miss. “You have got to take care of yourself, (Y/n). I can’t lose you to something as silly as some fool’s attitude.” His face is soft, eyes locked on her as his hands settle on her thighs. She knows what to say this time though, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips that only hurts her a little bit. “I love you. Like, really really love you.” He hums, pulling her closer to him from her little perch on the counter. “I love you, idiot.”

[bandgie]

Helloooo, do you think you could do smut of overprotective bf Seungmin who gets jealous over little things. Sorry if that doesn’t make much sense, sorry 😅. Love your work btw 💚

a/n: hi yes thank you! I can defo try, I've never written something like this!

warnings: MDNI 18+, PIV, creampie, no protection, edging (m!&f!), degrading (f!rec), that's pretty much it

1k words

Seungmin doesn't like to think he's possessive. No no, he's just worried. Worried about how your day's going, if people are being nice to you at your job, if you've eaten. He needs to know what you're doing. You're a huge part of his life, he can't go a day without asking how you are.

He loves showing people that you're his, and he's yours. PDA may not be frequent, but he gifted you a necklace with his first initial on it. Seungmin took a lot of time choosing it. He made sure it was dainty, nothing obnoxiously noticeable. He wants to make sure it's a style you can wear all day, every day. A reminder to you, and everyone else, that your heart and soul belong to another. 

So why do you let customers talk to you when they're obviously interested? Can't you just tell them that you're working? That you have coffee to make and desserts to bag? Seungmin can't erase the memory of how the persistent customer lingered near you. He hates it, he can feel his blood boiling and how his face has hardened. 

You're under him, hands gripping his shoulders as he ruthlessly fucks into you. You already told him that you were just doing your job, that you were talking. That's not enough for Seungmin, no. He needs to see that you mean it, to feel it. How desperately your pussy squeezes him like you never want him to pull out. The way you keep having to sob and beg him to slow down. His love is too much for you, but that doesn't mean he can't be cruel. 

Just when you're about to cum, he'll pull out. It leaves you whining, hands smacking his chest in frustration. "Please." You beg. "I already said I was sorry! Just let me cum."

Seungmin shakes his head. He slaps your pussy harshly as punishment. How dare you even think about finishing when you've been nothing but bad? You don't deserve to cum, not anytime soon at least.

He smacks your pussy again. Your hips lift off the bed and you cry out. You're shaking so much, legs trembling that Seungmin thinks you might cum from his abuse.

"Fucking whore," he mumbles. 

Then he's shoving his cock back inside, moving back to his hands can press the back of your thighs back. Your hands move to the mattress below you, nails digging into the sheet. All you do is watch as your boyfriend uses you as he pleases. His cock drags against your soft walls with precision, hitting the spot that makes your eyes welt with tears. 

This isn't a rare occurrence. Seungmin does get rather jealous over insignificant things. When you talk to one of his friends for too long, the time you forgot to put on the necklace he gave you after a shower. For him to fuck you though, like this, he must have been beyond pissed.

There was a time you were talking to Felix about his baking, asking for recipes. An innocent conversation that had Seungmin whispering lowly in your ear, "I'll make you suck me off in front of him."

So yes, it's safe to say Seungmin is a tad overprotective of you. Even if he's fucking you into the mattress like he hates you, he's absolutely infatuated with you.

His eyes never leave your body. Watching how your breasts bounce, how you squeeze your tits, how your eyes look up at his so lovingly, so aroused. Seungmin wants to savor every part of you, and he isn't willing to share any bit. 

Without meaning to, he starts fucking you how you like it. Rolling his hips into your pelvis to hit deep inside you. Your hips naturally follow his movements, raising them to feel how the tip of his cock nudges your cervix. 

You're smart enough to not announce how close you are. Instead, you leave your mouth open in a silent moan and look up at your lover with wide eyes. Seungmin knows that look, he's seen it hundreds of times. He really wants to make you suffer and force you to withhold your impending orgasm. 

By making you edge, however, he makes himself edge. He's already hit the breaking point many times, and he knows that this is the final straw for him. Seungmin reaches a hand down to play with your folds, feeling how your cunt immediately reacts and clenches down him. 

"Fuck," he groans. "Gonna make me cum in your stupid little pussy."

His words make your eyes roll back, a whine leaving your lips. "Please! Oh fuck please cum inside me Seung. I need it so bad, please please please." You're on the verge of tears. With how perfectly he's thrusting into you and how hard he's rubbing your clit, there's no way you can hold out any longer. 

Seungmin can't argue with your begging, you look rather cute doing so. His fingers rub around your bundle of nerves and then move up and down, the flawless way to make you come undone around him. It takes less than a minute to bring you over the edge. 

You spasm and cream around his cock, chills traveling throughout your body from its intensity. You don't bother trying to keep quiet during your orgasm as you pant and cry out his name. 

Your lover isn't too far behind you. Feeling your warm walls gush and convulse around him has his balls tightening. Seungmin shoves himself deep inside you just before he cums. It's nearly painful from how far he's forced his cock inside you. It makes you squirm and whine, but he steadies his hands behind your thighs to keep you in position.

His cum is so warm. You can feel it pumping inside of you and how his dick twitches. Seungmin can't help himself fuck but a few more times into your pussy, hearing you wail just to pull out completely. His eyes catch the dripping white release. It travels down your ass onto the sheets. He tsks.

"Come on babe. You should know to keep it inside."

It takes you a few seconds before you can answer as you catch your breath. "I'm sorry. I can't help it."

Your answer only makes him shake his head, a devious smile on his lips. "Then I guess we should keep going until you learn how to, no?"

[yurinaa-world]

hi, welt jing yuan blade dan heng with a bronya (hi3) teen reader?

Characters: Welt Yang, Jing Yuan, Blade, and Dan Heng platonic! x Female Reader

Synopsis: reader that's like bronya from Honkai Impact 3rd

Warnings: Fluff and spelling mistakes,

𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓉 𝓎𝒶𝓃𝑔

It gives you the childhood you’ve never had; even if you can’t feel anything, it’s never too late, even if you say you can’t be saved. It gets you things to build your machine that you've been working on for months.

He also gets you to leave your room and come and join everyone on the new planet you just arrived on, using the excuse that you could find the parts you need, as well as inspiration for upgrades. In reality, he just wants you to go out and have some fun with everyone else.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

You’re cold like ice compared to anyone else, which reminds him of his old master, but unlike her, you're just a child influenced by the world's most corrupt and sick minds, left scarred forever and unfixable when cracked into. A child fit for war but doesn’t view you like that at all.

He finds your little insults to him quite hilarious. It seems that you and Fu Xuan are quite similar in the way you talk to him and how you view him, but he finds you very adorable whenever you do it, with his child giving him sas without hesitation.

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

You do it whenever someone asks you to make a machine for them. You get it done in a day or less, when it usually takes three days or more. You don’t bother talking to him, and he doesn’t bother wasting his time on you; it was like that for a long while.

You started to get closer whenever Kafka sent him to request something from you, and he’d have to wait there for you to finish whenever he was asked, and you gave him some candy, saying maybe that could fix his nasty expression; it’s very sweet. He hated it, but he always took it because you gave it to him.

𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔

He’s quiet like you, but you’re cold, you're completely emotionally stunned, and you're unable to say anything with emotion or with heart. Maybe that’s one of the reasons most people don’t like to approach you.

You weren’t that bad, though. Mess with March whenever she touches the machines in your room, and it’s pretty funny to watch as you mess with her and make her regret calling her an idiot.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[kiquebi]

I present to you my very first fic ever!!! ~1.7k words brought to you by my Kww obsession…

Sorry in advance if I didn’t do their characters justice please don’t burn me at the stake. 🙏

Shipping ahead, proceed with caution now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wifies knows he’s not in the factory anymore.

He’s very aware of that fact; he’s made aware of that fact every day he wakes up in a soft bed and hears Wato in the kitchen, a warm spot on his left and Ken curled up on his right. He’s grateful for them, they’re the reason he’s still here after all, but he can’t shake the feeling of wrongness every time he gets up and sees his own face.

Today, Wifies awakes to a sunbeam to his face and Ken’s ears tickling his nose. Like usual, Wato’s side of the bed is empty but the leftover heat tells him that they haven’t left for long. He moves to untangle himself from Ken, making sure to be extremely careful about his tail. Wifies had accidentally squished it while getting up once and Ken’s resulting yowl and scratches were something he’d rather not experience again. Ken whines at the loss of warmth, but he quiets down again once Wifies wedges his pillow between Ken’s arms with a fond smile.

He drags himself into the bathroom, taming his hair on the way, and stops in his tracks. In front of him stood the mirror, and Wifies felt himself standing up straighter. He had never seen a mirror until he left the factory, there was no need for them in the escape rooms after all, but despite having easy access to one now, he never fails to stop and stare, and now is no exception.

When he peers into the glass, all he sees is him. No, he sees them. In the mirror, he sees the face of his creator, the original Wifies, the real Wifies, the person who had mocked him to his face and told him his destiny was no more than to become mere parts. It’s the same face of those soulless clones he had seen trapped in a glass cage, aimlessly solving puzzle after puzzle and then ground up into scrap metal. It was through those clones that Wifies first became aware of what his face looked like, and it was moments later that he learned that the face he had was not his.

It makes him sick. There’s a knot in his stomach that gets tighter and tighter the more he looks at himself, the more he drinks himself in. Wifies takes a step towards the mirror.

He slowly brings his hands up to his face and traces his brows, bringing them lower as he trails his fingers around his eyes. They’re dark, not quite the color of the hungry void, but yearning for something nevertheless.

“Like crying obsidian” Wato had once said. “But we’ll make sure the tears won’t have good reason to come, yeah?”. Wifies doesn’t have it in his heart to tell Wato that he’s incapable of tears, though he treasures the sentiment with all he has.

He moves on lower, going down the slope of his nose, tracing back up his jaw, and he has to give credit where credit is due. The original Wifies was attractive, he had to give him that. There’s not a single flaw, no crookedness to his nose, no slanted jawline and Wifies drags his nails down his cheeks. His synthetic skin doesn’t welt and all Wifies feels is a dull ache. He hates it. Wifies knows this face of his would never change no matter how many times he does this but-

It feels wrong. This unblemished, symmetrical face of his feels wrong, wrong, wrong. It easily could have been one of those other Wifies Ken had saved. It easily could have been his creator who had won. Why was it him that lucked out? He’s not anything better than them, he had just been lucky. His survival was based solely on the RNG that Wato had so often complained about escape map designers relying so often on. After all, no matter who made it out of that factory, they’ll all look the very same in the end, would they not?

Wifies jolts. He slowly moves his hands away from his face and back to his sides. ‘No’, he decides, ‘none of that today’. Ken and Wato had spent so much time reassuring him of his newfound freedom and he would not throw away their combined efforts today. However, his eyes still advert themselves from the mirror and Wifies tries to bury the spark of disappointment he feels at that.

As he moves to tie his signature headband around his head though, he notices a pencil on the rack next to him. He recognizes it: it’s an eyeliner pencil, a brand that Ken swore by.

“Makes your liner sharp enough to cut a bitch” was what he said at the time.

Wifies’ eyes quickly dart around the bathroom as if he expects something to jump him, but after a moment, his hand reaches out. He picks up the pencil and with shaking hands, brings it right under his left eye. Wifies steels himself and looks into the mirror again, this time leaning in to leave a splotch of pigment at the corner of his eye, where a tear would appear if he had been capable of shedding one. A stain on the perfect canvas that was his face. He puts the pencil back down, takes a step back, and stares.

One tick. Two ticks.

Wifies doesn’t know how long he stood there staring at his reflection, but that knot in his stomach loosens just a little. In the mirror, he sees neither his creator nor the trapped clones. The person in front of him no longer had the same face he had seen hundreds of in his dreams. He looks like Wifies, Ken’s Wifies.

He hears a breathy laugh and seconds later, he realizes that it’s coming from him. It’s silly really. All he’s done is draw a dot on his face and suddenly the sinking feeling in his stomach is gone. It’s not logical in any way, but it’s still the reason for the stupid smile he sees in his reflection.

“Wifies? Are you alright in there? I’m coming in okay?” Ken’s voice drifts through the door.

He turns around and a moment later, Ken’s head peaks into the bathroom. “What are you up to today? You don’t usually-” his eyes scan Wifies’ face and zero in on the artificial mole he’s given himself.

“Oh”. Ken’s eyes soften in a way that never fails to make Wifies want to follow him anywhere, like the first time he led him off the winner’s podium, walking above the literal void. Ken walks up to him, flips him back around to face the mirror, and wraps his arms around Wifies. He rests his face on his shoulder, and oh, Wifies has never felt quite like this before.

“So, any plans for the day handsome?” Ken asks, tail wrapping around their legs.

“You think I’m handsome?” Wifies blurts.

“…..Wifies my hands are about to go under your shirt right now”. A tick. Wifies’ eyes move down the mirror to see that yes, Ken’s hands had indeed snaked down to the bottom of his shirt. His eyes dart back up and he’s met with his own bewildered face.

Another tick. “Yes, I think you look really good right now Wifies” Ken sighs, an exasperated look on his face. Ken’s hands move back up to Wifies midsection and he pulls Wifies closer. “It suits you” Ken murmurs.

They stay like that for a few moments and then Ken perks up, raising his head from Wifies’ shoulder. He turns his head to the door and Wifies follows suit. A second later, Wato’s figure emerges from behind the corner, and upon seeing them, their tail begins to idly wag behind them.

“I was wondering why no one was coming down for breakfast. Are we doing hugs in the bathroom now?” They ask head tilted to the side, and Wifies starts to make grabby hands at them, coaxing Wato closer.

They oblige, and Ken scoots over to let Wato in on the embrace. Wifies looks in the mirror again and he sees the three of them pressed close together, their limbs barely fitting into the frame. Ken on his right, Wato on his left, and himself in the middle. It’s a beautiful picture they paint, and Wifies decides that he likes seeing them together like this. Wato peers into the glass as well. They smile and there’s a tender mirth in their voice as they say “Heh, Wifies sandwich”.

There’s a fluttering feeling in his chest, but Wifies ignores it so that he can shove Wato’s face out of frame. He can hear Ken snickering at their antics, and Wifies ignores that too. He can feel his ears heating up.

“Wato, look at Wifies and agree with me that he’s handsome”.

Wato indulges him, and their eyes go half-lidded as they lean closer to the mole Wifies drew below his eye. “Hey handsome”, their hand gently intertwines with one of his, and- “did you know they say that moles are where your past lovers kissed you most?”. They press a kiss right on the mark, and Wifies is gone.

Ken barks a laugh, leisurely pressing a kiss onto the back of Wifies' neck. “Should we add one here too then?”, he questions as he continues to trail kisses up to his jaw. Wifies’ head feels muddled, as if Wato and Ken had stuffed his brain full of cotton from their words alone.

His knees feel weak, his eyes are glued to his reflection, and he tries moving his mouth but nothing comes out. The Wifies in the mirror looks like a goldfish. Wifies tears his eyes away and groans into his remaining hand, the one that Wato hadn’t taken hostage. His face feels hot, and he’s probably as red as an apple right about now.

Both Ken and Wato break into giggles and Ken takes Wifies’ hand off his face, entangling it in his. He has nowhere to run now, and both his hands are in the hands of two menaces who want him dead.

Thankfully, Wato seems to be in a merciful mood today. “Alright, alright, let’s get some food for you two, it’s already noon.” Ken decides that food was worth a pause in embarrassing Wifies, and begins to drag him out of the bathroom. They head towards the stairs, and both his hands are still being held. His hands are warm and his heart feels fuzzy, and yeah, Wifies thinks he can get used to this.

[fairykazu]

hi pookie !!!!!!! congrats on 500 u deserve it frfr 🫶 for the event, can u have a bouquet of petunias with dan heng? thank you and congratulations again teehee :3

petunias with dan heng prompt: realizing feelings side note: oh mu god i think i brainrotted and then forgot my train of thought. this isn't exactly the prompt but he does realize it i swear. i might write a follow up afterwards because i hate the way i ended this. event masterlist 𝜗𝜚 hsr masterlist

nervous was a feeling that dan heng never allowed himself to feel, he only let it fleetingly pass by like the winter breeze. but he doesn’t understand how he began to feel anxious around you, just simply on edge just by being near you. he could just sweat pure bullets from the amount of sweat he could feel, making his palms sweaty. 

when the both of you went on an assignment for collecting extinguished cores, he nearly left mid-fight, not that he’d leave you in the middle of a fight, but your hand briefly touched his and he died within that moment. after that, he zoned out the entire mission, just focusing on the touch between his thumb and your index finger. his and yours, and his and yours- 

frankly, he doesn’t understand this feeling. if he asked someone on the express, surely, they would know why he’s acting this way. but he doesn’t want to seem like a bother to them. maybe he’d resort to them after a good dive into the archives. 

there was a gentle knock against his door but he didn’t hear it, head too deep in various books that were wide open. stacks of books and stacks of books littered the archives’ floors, it was like a maze to even just travel to dan heng. there were books like feelings and how to understand them and are you anxious? there are reasons why in the shelves. although, he was confused how they got there, maybe when march got them to read for fun, he was thankful. 

did he get the answers he needed? no. but they were helpful regardless yet he was in a dead end. well, it’s time to ask the express, maybe they’d know and surely, they would tell him. but when he tried to seek out answers from himeko and welt, they exchanged a look and laughed with each other. 

welt cleared his throat. “okay, himeko, let’s not laugh too much, maybe he knows why.” 

himeko wiped a tear from her face from laughing too much, catching her breath, “welt, c’mon, just look at him. he doesn’t know anything!” 

“dan heng isn’t clueless.” they were talking about him as if he didn’t even exist. until both of them looked at dan heng as if there was something he was supposed to know.  “is there something im missing?” dan heng asked, confused. 

“no…” 

“okay?” 

. ❀

back to the drawing board, he walked into his room, seeing march and stelle sitting in there. march raised a brow, “dan heng, your room’s a mess, even messier than stelle’s!” it was true, despite the silver haired girl protesting against the so-called “allegations” march is painting on her, his room was messy. there was post it notes on the walls, books on the floor, mattress and even the fan? was he really that deep into researching this feeling, if it is even real? 

“i was curious about something, that’s all.” 

“about what?” 

“name, something about name. they’re confusing me.” 

stelle quipped back, “what? that you like them?” the girl in pink gasped, march slapped stelle’s shoulder, “stelle!” she continued in a whisper-yell, “you weren’t supposed to tell him, he was supposed to figure this out himself.”  

dan heng tilted his head, deep in thought, ignoring the commotion the couple was making in front of him. 

what? no, no, he doesn’t like name like that. 

“look what you did, stelle! you broke him.”  march said, tapping on dan heng’s shoulder as if he was a buzzer in a game show. 

sure, sometimes, dan heng imagines a world where the two of you are together. tranquil hours spent in the park, just looking at each other. or cooking with each other, have a cat or a dog and rest together until the end of time or he’d pray to an aeon for eternity to exist forever just to see you as you both grow old.

but that’s because this is how friends act, right? 

[acewritesfics]

I don’t want you to leave | Eddie Munson

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader 

Request: From Anon

Warnings: Mentions of assault and drunk abusive father. Angsty. 

Word Count: 1,058

Stranger Things Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Eddie!” Y/N yells, slamming her fist against the door to Eddie Munson’s trailer. She had no idea if he was awake, but she knew he was home because his van was sitting out front of the trailer. “Eddie!” 

The door eventually swings open, nearly knocking her off the step. 

“Y/N?” His voice is sleepy, confirming her suspicions of him being asleep. It wasn’t uncommon for the two to hang out, smoke weed, listen to music, and talk about anything and everything until the early hours of the morning. What was unusual was her showing up at almost 2 a.m. banging on his door as if her life depended on him opening it. “What’s going on?” 

He notices a large red welt shaped like a hand on her right cheek and a small cut on her left cheek with a bruise forming around it. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her cheeks are stained with tears. The thought of someone hurting his best friend (and childhood crush) filled him with rage. He gently takes her hand in his and pulls her inside, closing the door behind them. He goes to the freezer, takes out a bag of frozen peas, wraps them in the towel, and presses them against her cheek, causing her to wince slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, hating seeing her like this. As much as he wanted to hurt whoever did this to her, she was his number one priority right now. She needs him more than a jail cell does. “Did your father do this?” He asks her, his big brown eyes boring into hers, wanting to know every detail of what happened so he could help her as best he could. 

It was well known that her father was an abusive alcoholic. It was only recently that the public became aware of it. After her mother left, her father made no effort to cover up how much of an asshole he really was. With Hopper gone, the town’s police force had spiralled into a shit show. Her father was arrested several times for being drunk and disorderly, and he always blamed it on his wife leaving and fabricating lies about her disappearance, which gained sympathy from a majority of the people. 

“I have to leave Eddie.” She confirms his suspicions. “I can’t stay any longer.” 

“Do you mean leave Hawkins or your house?” He asks her, his heart pounding as he struggles with his conflicting feelings. 

She confirms, “Hawkins.” she confirms. “He’ll continue to make my life a living hell if I stay here. I can’t be here as long as he’s alive.” 

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says truthfully, even though a part of him wants to tell her to leave so he can be sure she’s safe. But the selfish side of him came out and didn’t want her to leave. He prefered that she stayed with him so that he could protect her. He never saw himself as a hero outside of Dungeons and Dragons, but he wanted to be her hero. 

“I don’t want to, but I have to,” she sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. She did not want to leave him. She loves him in ways that words cannot express. He was the one person she cared about more than anyone else. He had been her home since they first met in middle school. He wasn’t a freak to her. He was just Eddie, her best friend, and her first and only love. 

“Stay with me tonight, just tonight,” he pleads. “Give me that much. And I’ll take you wherever you want to go tomorrow.” 

She nods and embraces the young man. If she could stay in this moment for the rest of her life, she would. Eddie moved them to his bedroom after a few minutes. He helped her change into one of his shirts and climbed into bed. Nothing was said as they settled in and eventually fell asleep in each other’s arms. 

The two awoke shortly after 9 a.m. Eddie was preparing their breakfast while she sat at the counter watching him. They hadn’t spoken about the early hours of this morning because they were both unsure how to bring it up. 

“Have you made any recent deals?” She asks, noticing the lunch box that didn’t just carry his lunch was now sitting on the counter close to him. 

“Just the usual amount,” he replies. “Do you want to tell me about what happened last night?” 

The mood around them changed instantly as Y/N sat up straighter, thinking about last night. “Dad came home drunk, woke me up to make him something to eat, and when I refused, he called me an ungrateful and useless bitch and did this,” she motions to her bruised and cut cheek. It wasn’t as bad as she had anticipated. “After he passed out, I packed a bag and came here.” 

“To say goodbye,” he murmured to himself. “I’ll go with you.” 

“What was that?” She asks, not quite hearing him. 

“I can come with you,” he says a little louder. 

“No, no you can’t, Eddie. This is your year, remember? ‘86 is your year. You’ll finally graduate, and you have the Hellfire Club. You can’t just leave those kids. They love and adore you.” She moves behind him and turns him to face her. “You also have your uncle to consider. He needs you too.” 

“I’d give it all up for you,” he says sincerely. 

“Why?” She asked, surprised. “Why would you do that?” 

“Because I love you, god dammit.” He admits suddenly becoming a little timid and bashful, a side of Eddie that only a few people got to see. “I’ve loved you since middle school. And I simply can not imagine my life without you.” 

Y/N’s heart skips a beat and begins thumping loudly against her chest. Instead of saying anything, she cups his face and pulls him into a passionate kiss, letting him know she feels the same way. 

When they break the kiss, she tells him, “I’ll stay. If it’s okay with your Uncle, I’ll stay with you because I can’t go back to that house.” 

“You don’t have to go back there ever again,” Eddie reassures her and pulls her into another kiss. 

“And I love you too,” she says softly against his lips. 

[f1-disaster-bi]

nearly 200 writing prompts // feel free to reblog

13: “ Don’t leave me… ”

Dando Abo Pack AU after they got Lando back?

Lando hated the sight of the mark on his shoulder. The bruises were almost gone. His cuts and welts were healing. His trauma was lasting but he knew that too would heal after time. He had experience with moving on from this before, and he could do it again, but the half bite mark made him sick. It was a reminder that this time Lando had almost been trapped forever. It was a mark of a broken omega. A failed or almost mating mark. One that would linger. The pink outline of his abusers teeth would forever be with him, and Lando wished that he could make it disappear because all he could hear was his mother's voice in his head. "No one will want a used omega" Those words lingered. They burned him worse than breathing with broken ribs ever did. Those seven words made his body seize and that little dark part of his mind ran rampant with all sorts of thoughts. The worst of which was that Daniel would leave him over this. That the mark meant that Lando was someone not worth his own mark. Lando knew it was bullshit. He it was just his upbringing and trauma speaking, but it still hurt. "Lan?", a soft knock at the door had him jumping, "Can I come in? You smell anxious" Daniel's voice was both soothing to the ache in his chest and terrifying the same time. Lando almost wanted to say no but Daniel was his home. He was his safety. Daniel was the one thing that kept Lando alive during the time he was gone. He trusted Daniel with every part of him, including this as he called out to tell him he could come in. Daniel moved slowly when he did enter the room. He left the door open, and made sure he wasn't blocking it. The fact he made sure Lando had a quick and easy mistake made him relax a little until Lando saw his gaze finding the bite. "I'm sorry", Lando felt his hands trembling as he looked away, ashamed, "Don't...don't leave me, please. I know it's bad, but it'll fade and I can..." His words melted off into a whimper as Daniel held his arms out for him, letting Lando come to him instead of assuming what he needed. God, Lando loved him, as he melted into Daniel's arms with a small sob. "I am not going anywhere, baby", Daniel reassured, his hands strong and comforting as they rubbed at Lando's back. His voice firm but sweet. His scent soothing as it surrounded Lando, "I would never leave you. Not for this. Not even if you kicked me a million more times in your sleep than you already do. I love you. Nothing will ever change that" Lando clung to him, letting the words wash over him and silence his mother's voice and all the others telling him he was broken. Daniel's was all that mattered as the alpha scented him softly, repeating his gentle admissions of love and promises of safety because there was only truth in his words. He loved Lando and it really was as simple as that for now.