#this is one of my favourite drabbles to be honest

[pekoposting]

This is interesting! Particularly because it's a departure from the usual conclusions that hardcore Pekoyama fans usually make from this evidence. Which is...

Peko's biological parents are the Pekoyama clan

The typical interpretation goes something like this:

The Pekoyama clan is a band of renowned swordfighters. For whatever reason, they get in massive debt to the Kuzuryuu clan. The Kuzuryuu clan force them to repay these debts by taking their young heir, and training her to be a bodyguard for their own heir when he is born. We know the rest of the story.

The evidence for this is as follows (though keep in mind, I did not consider your interpretation when I was formulating this, so the evidence seemed more self-evident originally):

Pekoyama's name in the Japanese is spelt 辺古山 ペコ. Her family name, (辺古山) is spelt normally, in kanji. However, her first name is spelt in katakana, which as far as I can tell is the only of the three Japanese scripts not used to write Japanese names. Also it's literally just the first two phonetic sounds of her surname. Which gives the impression that her surname is real, and her first name is something carelessly made up on the fly because you have to call her something.

The fact that she has a family heirloom. Why would the Kuzuryuu clan know the family of an orphaned baby? As far as I know, people in Japan don't usually attach their family name when they're orphaning a child.

...Yeah, it was primarily based on the premise that out of the two contradictory pieces of information we get about Pekoyama's parents, the one at the end of Chapter 2 (that she was abandoned by them from birth) is the correct one.

Of course... there are still issues with this interpretation. Primarily, that Island Mode dialogue where she says she has memories of her parents being alive. The heirloom is a bit iffy, too. (Perhaps it's something the Kuzuryuu clan also took along with Pekoyama?)

The only excuse I can come up for the parents thing is that it is Pekoyama deliberately lying to make her childhood sound more normal. Because the closer she gets to telling the truth, the more questions Hinata will have, and she doesn't want that. That's not the point she's trying to convey anyways, so she goes with a simple lie to smooth it over so she can talk about her memories

There are issues with your interpretation too, namely that the Kuzuryuu clan risks giving Pekoyama an alternative motive through giving her actual parents, i.e. humanising her and possibly making her consider if there's other ways she can live. As we both know, Pekoyama's Island Mode ending implies that she is only so dedicated to her tool mindset because it's the only way she knows how to live.

Whilst I probably will come around to yours more as I let it sink into my brain, I'm going to be honest, I am still quite attached to the 'Pekoyama was stolen from the Pekoyama clan' interpretation, because I've spent a lot of time thinking about it, and because those hardcore Pekoyama fans have also written about it.

One of my absolute favourite implementations of it is at the end of thewildwilds' already incredible fic [absolute zero.] where it's mentioned that upon taking baby Pekoyama, her parents cursed the Kuzuryuu clan by swearing that their child would ultimately cause the destruction of the clan. That's SO DELICIOUS

As you know, I am very much a fic writer. So much so that my opinion on ships is often determined by easy/fun they are to write. And there is a lot of potential things to explore in this interpretation that I've barely ever seen anyone cover beyond 100 word drabbles.

For example... this means that Pekoyama is the only former RoD who could still have their parents alive. So... how would she cope with that? (I have some answers to that, but they're not precise, and this is getting long enough already.) NO ONE HAS EXPLORED HOW SHE'D INTERACT WITH HER BIO PARENTS AT ALL SOB. I may have to get over my natural reluctance to make OCs for this...

(This still could be explored under your interpretation, it's just that it's harder to pinpoint who her bio parents are, and those parents are less defined.)

In conclusion: what the hell even was this (MY POST NOT YOURS). There are several points I almost certainly forgot. Pekoytama.

Random tidbits about the Pekoyama Dojo

Peko was adopted by the Pekoyama Dojo

Peko reminiscence about her parents taking her to an old amusement park.

Because Peko was abandoned as a baby by her birth parents, it can be deduced all her memories regarding her parents is with her adoptive parents.

The only time she feels like smiling outside her Free Time Event, is when she is at an amusement park.

Because Peko was given the Pekoyama's family heirloom, and the obvious fact she bares the family name, you can infer that Peko's adoptive parents was from the Pekoyama Dojo on the Kuzuryus behalf.

Peko states that her dojo is not exactly a Kendo dojo. The fact that their family heirloom bears the symbol of the Kuzuryu clan mascot, the Pekoyamas were mostly likely a vassel family who served the Kuzuryus (I think the Japanese term is Kashin but don't quote me on that)

Peko's experiences at the Dojo

Just because it would be too much to screenshot, it's strongly implied that everything she did was a form of training. Peko can't take an activity at face value and see everything as a form of training. Examples include: Splitting watermelons, dropping coconuts, watching movies, going into haunted houses.

You could make the argument, because Peko was a 'tool', this was the justification to allow Peko to do normal activities.

Overall, Peko recalls only nice things about the dojo

As always, shout out to Peko's pet finch that probably hated her

Not canon in the slightest, but a moment from the manga

Mentions of Peko's childhood that may or may not be related to the dojo

[honeydazai]

Hello, I don't know if applications are open but I saw your post about the event and wanted to know if you can write to Fyodor at the point: "i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?" Plis 😣😖

Fyodor + "I bought you flowers."

milestone drabble event! 🪻

It has been a few weeks ever since you've started dating Fyodor, and you still haven't gotten used to the way he spoils you.

The shoes on your feet, delicate heels that somehow manage to be comfortable while also being stunning, are gifts of his; so is the dress that's clinging to your body, the fabric pure silk.

A personal driver of his makes sure you get to every date with him safely and comfortably, the car luxurious, the chauffeur respectful and polite. To be honest, the treatment has you feeling like nothing short of royalty, causing you to giggle to yourself ever so often, giddy.

While you still don't know what exactly it is he does for work, the question usually evaded with suave words and a silver tongue until he has redirected the conversation to a different topic entirely, he certainly seems to have enough money to spend it freely, albeit certainly not carelessly.

Now, as you're sat next to him inside one of the usual cars, sleek black, your eyes fall onto a bouquet so large it brushes against your arm even while still held by him, yet somehow managing not to be obnoxious, colours white and a pale lilac. Still, you're perplexed by the sight of it.

“Fyodor—, what's this?”

His smile is gentle, albeit he now raises an eyebrow in mild amusement. “Those are flowers, dear. Your favourite ones, as far as I'm aware.”

“No, I know that. They are my favourites; I'm just asking why you're gifting me flowers.” As far as you're aware, this is little more than the usual date between the two of you; there's no special occasion, or so you hope — if there was, that would mean you'd have forgotten about it.

“Does there have to be a reason?” Fyodor tilts his head to the side, black bangs moving like shadows. “I merely thought you'd like them. Don't you?”

“I do”, you hurry to say, gaze falling down onto the bouquet again. It's objectively stunning, but the idea of Fyodor going out of his way to make you gifts without even needing an occasion to do so is what truly makes your heart soar. “I really do. Thank you.”

“Of course, dear.”

It takes a few moments until you notice that, despite your conversation just now, he looks oddly expectant, purple eyes occasionally flickering over to you. More seconds pass before you realise just what he might be waiting for.

With a smile gracing your features — something about him being this patient yet eager is frankly adorable —, you lean forward, lips soon pressing against his cheek. The action leaves a faint glittering stain on pale skin, your lip gloss showing. “Thank you, Fyodor. I love them.”

If you had to describe his expression, a smug and content cat that has just been fed comes to mind.

“I'm glad.”

join my tag list here! 🪻

notes: AAAAA THIS WAS SO CUTE AAA THANK YOU FOR THEBPROMPT

tags: @Chxrry-doll @Irethepotato @beandaifuku , @the-foreigner , @ranpobb, @arixsux, @dei-lilxc , @atsyushi @satoruislove @pastelsbaby @marina-and-the-memes @texchou @shiggysredhead @savagemickey03 @rosepxtlz @nikolaiswife @okura-s @ladykatakuri @lunerenzo @berywritesstuff @xelia25 @yuuotosaka3 @double-black-dazai @alice0blog

@fyodorstolenushanka @ttaiyaki @itsnovariella @black-rose-29 @fyodorscumsock @ayshaashaya @qxxstuff @irethepotato @serenareiss @atsvsh1 @dilucshandholder @reiikonee @1-800-mocha @xvocadooo @hexiisexii @cupxfcxffee @jodidann @Happymoon16 @yumidepain @nchuuyahq @janeinerz @Aaronthegreatestsimp @fanfiction-waifu @KimxKiba @Morigumy @villainouspotential @ashthemadwriter-uwu @mrsdostoevsky @nikolaisgoofyahhhat

@yeonwoomyheartbelongstoyou @hellgirlwhore @c4xcocoa @lyrstybsd @angelsrunes @wuaoqu @disa-ster @aspookyscaryghost @nikolaisboner @urgodmoon @polish-anon @arisu-chan4646nsfw @eroscastle @somnobun @birbysaur @Senpaible @hyunlixie143 @dababyurmom @4nthonyyliving

@brokeniced @nikolaisdove @dxwnstxr @scinclaitnoir @snips18 @flowzel @satohruu @squigglewigglewoo @rainy-dazie @itzashlyn123 @rheeeeeeeesiees @eggcoreloser @mariaace @mello0cat @warriordemigosworld @thescrunkly @ainegueneres @maroj23 @dazaiserectnips @little-miss-chaoss

[miguelsslvt]

punk! miguel x innocent! reader

word count: 879

TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.

request: @sukioyakio ★

A/N: this isn't edited and is poorly made so i'm so sorry. also can i just say thank you so much for over 600 notes on my first drabble?? oh my gosh?? anyways, enjoy and welcome to the club! ^^

imagine punk! miguel being the 'bad rep' of the school. in the 3rd year of college, he took physics, chemistry and spanish language. he would smoke behind the science classrooms, refuse to wear clothes that he calls 'society norms' like a blazer or a button up, and instead wear a black leather jacket with pins like 'pink floyd', or 'anarchist' all around it. he would yell, slander and mock almost every teacher whenever he's in class (which is very rare).

most of the girls honestly adored him, apart from the odd popular girl or two finding him too 'annoying' or too 'muscly' for their liking. he didn't give two shits, he already knew his body count was probably higher then their grades.

but then there's you. sweet, innocent little y/n. where most college students spent their weekends partying, you spent it in your dorm room re-reading 'moby dick' for the 6th time. you took phsycology, english literature and spanish language. and if you were completely honest, the only reason you chose spanish language is because your boyfriend at the time (now ex) was spanish. god, did you regret picking it for him.

you noticed miguel, like every other person in the school would. but your first time was different. you were running late, extremely late for your first class of the day. damn you, alarm. that's when you noticed miguel, outside science block, groaning.

despite being late, you took a curious peek at what the man was groaning about.

'stupid fucking lighter..' he mumbled, trying to light his cigarette, but failing. you knew better then to interfere, to even speak to the most intimidating man in college. but, for some reason, you ended up giving him your lighter.

'thanks, you smoke? i can give you one for a trade.' miguel said, as you smiled so sweetly. you explained how you didn't smoke, or did anything like that, and that you only carried a lighter 'just in case of emergencies'.

that's when miguel's interest in you piqued. you were such a sweet, innocent girl, and that drove something in him. something that he didn't realise he wanted. he usually only went for girls with his taste and style, girls he'd meet at festivals or clubs and were either high as heck or sexy goths. but you, you were different.

soon enough, he realised you were only in his spanish language classes, and that you weren't the best at it. perfect. your weakness was miguel's strength.

that's how you ended up in this situation. bent over miguell's desk in his dorm, mumbling his name as hee proceeded to sbuse his way into your sweet cunt.

'you want to tutor me..? that would be so nice miguel!' you had said so excitedly, there was a spanish exam coming up and miguel so kindly offered to tutor you the friday night. and being so naive and quite desperate for the help, you happily accepted.

his room was filled with different posters and signs like his favourite bands, anarchistic posters, stickers saying things like 'fuck the government!'. his leather jacket was discarded somewhere on the messy floor, as his hands grasped your hips to push you even deeper onto his cock.

'm-miguel.. m-miguel please!' you whined, your mascara running down your face.

he just chuckled, as he pulled your hair lightly, moving you onto the bed as he laid you down on your back, as he started bullying into your pussy once again. he was so mean.

your light blue dress was somewhere on the floor, ripped to shreds. it was your favourite dress, but you had other things to think about at the moment.

'yeah.. you like that, cariño? you like being fucked like a slut? not used to being so used, are you?' miguel teased, as you just moaned in response. he hadn't realised that fucking a cute little angel could be this enticing. fuck, he could get used to this.

'i.. miguel! i-i've never-' 'shh.. i know, i know, a sweet girl like you hasn't ever been treated this way.. i'm sorry for being so rough, but i dunno.. the way you're tightening around me suggests you like the harshness..' he said, his hand wiping your mascara-smudged cheeks. your body was submitting to him in every way possible, and he felt like a starved predator being fed for the first time in years.

'i-is it normal to feel l-like this..?' you whimpered, eyes shut from the pleasure. 'yes.. yes my sweet girl it's very normal to feel like this.. let me give you all the pleasure you've missed out on.' miguel whispered in your ear, as he started thrusting faster and faster, pushing you over to the edge.

you let out a loud moan, your back arching as you came. the way you clenched onto him drove miguel over the edge too. his thrusts became erratic and sloppy, as he let out one more groan as he came deep inside you.

you were panting, your eyes still shut. he pulled out slowly, placing a sweet kiss on your temple. 'god you're so cute..' miguel whispered to you, as you just whimpered in response. he chuckled deeply.

god, he might just get addicted to such a good innocent little thing like you.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

[libraryofolive]

party time!

featuring: CEO!Satoru Gojo x trophy wife!reader

genre: fluff, drabble

word count: 1.2k

synopsis: You, the trophy wife of the infamous Satoru Gojo, decide to spend your October planning a no expenses spared party to celebrate the holiday. What could go wrong?

part one of spooky section, my 2024 Halloween event!

“We’re throwing a party.” You declared over dinner on a dreary mid-September day. Your husband, the notorious CEO Satoru Gojo looked up from his meal (made from scratch, by you) at the sound of your voice.

“Hm?” He asked, cocking his head to one side, blue eyes as bright as ever.

“We’re throwing a party. For Halloween.” You continued, “I want something to do whilst you’re at the office all day. So, I’m throwing a Halloween party. It’ll be the talk of the town.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my darling wife.”

“I’ll handle everything - down to your costume. We’ll be doing a couple’s costume-”

“I would hope so-”

“I want it to be extravagant. The type of party that ends up like an urban legend.”

“You know I love when you have a passion project, baby. Why are you asking mee for my permission on this?”

“Oh, I’m not asking for permission.” You grinned at your husband, “I’m asking for a budget.”

By the time All Hallows Eve fell, everything had miraculously fallen into place. It had taken you the full month and a half to plan everything, but seeing it all pull together had made it all worth it. You had decided to throw it at your multi-story penthouse, deciding it made the party feel more personal, more exclusive. But gone was the chic home you and Satoru were used to, and instead, when Satoru returned home from a half day at the office (to leave plenty of time to get ready, by your demand) it was like walking into a whole new universe. Candelabras lined the walls, the melted wax dripping red against the white exterior of the candles, giving a blood-like effect. Cobwebs were strung from the ceiling, littered with faux bats and fairy lights. You had turned one of your corridors into the iconic tunnel from Coraline, your kitchen into a witches’ lair, full of ‘potions’ to drink and ‘charms’ to eat. Even your windows were decorated - full of decals that made them look like the stained glass one would find in an ancient church. There were pumpkins everywhere, some carved, some warty - in any placed you looked there was something seasonal.

“Baby?” He had called out once his awe had worn off.

“In the bedroom! Get your ass in here!” You yelled back. He let out a chuckle at that, before heading up the stairs two at a time. To say he was excited to finally found out what he would be dressed as this evening would be an understatement - if he was being perfectly honest, he would say it had been at the forefront of his mind since he slid you that black card after you had asked for a budget, telling you to go crazy. He had been stalking your various Pinterest boards dedicated to this party, to no avail (you knew he would do this, so purposefully made a private board for costume ideas, it was a surprise, after all).

He burst into your bedroom, giving the poor woman currently doing your make up a fright. “Blue? You’re being painted blue… please don’t tell me you’re making me be Papa Smurf all night.” His eyes scanned the room, looking for anything that would tip him off as to what you had planned. You giggled at his antics, forcing yourself not to shake your head at him so you didn’t disturb your make-up artists.

“And parade around as Smurfette all night? No, it’s something much better.” You couldn’t help the grin that overtook your face. “Your costume is hanging up in the white bag in my closet - bring it in here before you open it. I want to see your reaction.” Satoru all but sprinted to your closet. Halloween had always been one of his favourite times of year, so when you had told him you had wanted to throw a kick-ass party for the holiday, he wanted to jump with joy.

He found the bag immediately and raced back to your side, shaking in anticipation.

“Go ahead, Toru, open it.” He was like a child at Christmas with how quickly he tore the zip of the garment bag open, his glee lighting up the room. He took the costume in - a pinstripe suit. Was he Gomez Addams? But you were being painted blue, so you certainly weren’t in the middle of a transformation into Morticia. The tails of the suit jacket were thin and pointy, and there was five of them instead of the usual two. It wasn’t until he set his eyes on the iconic, large bowtie, or rather bat-tie that it all clicked into place.

“Jack Skellington!” He gasped. “Right? And you’re blue because you’re going to be my Sally?”

“Bingo.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Babe, this is- this is amazing. Your decorations are like - oh my God, they’re brilliant, and this is such a good costume idea-” Your face warmed as he sung your praises, glad he approved.

A few hours later and the party was in full swing. Everyone you had invited showed up, all dressed to the nines in their various costumes. Drinks flowed, the band you hired kept the vibe up and the dance floor full practically all night. At points, that included you and Satoru, who couldn’t resist a dance (or two or three) with his lovely wife.

In the wee hours of the morning, as people filtered out, after thanking you for a brilliant night, some even enquiring if you’d do the whole thing again a year later, Satoru forced you onto the dance floor one last time. This one much slower, much more intimate, as he held you close, tucked against his chest and under his chin, one of his hands around your waist and the other holding yours against him.

“You’ve done amazing.” He whispered into your hair, deciding that speaking at a normal volume would ruin the moment. “I mean, I knew you would, especially after seeing you plan our wedding.”

“Oh shush.” Your words implied annoyance, but your tone said something else entirely as you hid your face in his chest.

“I’m serious - you’re brilliant at this kind of stuff.” He kissed the top of your head, “did you have fun?”

“I did, actually. It kept me nice and busy.”

“Is it too early to ask you for a Christmas one?” You pulled back slightly, looking at him with your brow furrowed.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously! I can see it now - the living room a Santa’s grotto, you in a sexy Mrs Claus costume.” You scoffed at that.

“I’ll think about it.” You answered him, tucking yourself back under his chin. Truly, you didn’t want the moment to end. Sure, you loved organising an event like this or your wedding. But really, your favourite thing about the entire ordeal was this - the moment with your lover after a success, calming down after a vivacious evening, ready to climb into bed and spent the rest of the night cuddled tightly in each other’s arms.

Like this? You can find my smaus here and my drabbles and other fiics here!

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[mxrecg]

True Love vs Infatuation | Gojo x Reader

Summary: Gojo loves nothing more than spending time with you, even if it only consists of doing the most mundane of things. It wasn't until today, you realized just how much Gojo Satoru loves you.

Pairing: High School Gojo x YN

Genre: fluff, established relationship

Word Count: 2.4k

A/n: Imma be so honest idk wtf this is but I wrote it a hellaaa long time ago. So bc JJK s2 is out I thought why not post this drabble I wrote a long ass time ago. I also genuinely think this prolly isn't how canon Gojo would act but bruh I tried!! Anyways enjoy

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Incandescent fireflies painted the dark sky with small flakes of light, creating an enriched serene atmosphere for reading. 

So there you sat cross-legged, outside your balcony, fully engrossed by the book you were reading. 

You slowly became hypnotised by the words allocated within the pages of the novel you were reading.

As your eyes further loomed through the pages and comprehended the context, your eyebrows furrowed in irritation and cuss words occasionally left your lips. 

Lost and captivated by the words decorating the interior pages of the book, you paid no mind to the snoring boy who laid down on your lap. 

You continued reading the story. Book in your dominant hand; whereas, the other one gently massaged the scalp of the teenage boy on your lap. 

Page after page began to turn, and soon enough you’ve reached the final page… to say you were disappointed was an understatement. 

Angered at the ending, you immediately slammed the book down on a coffee table and debated on whether or not you should ignite it on fire for illustrating such a realistic yet heartbreaking ending. 

Your sudden outburst lured the teenage boy out of his sleep, and he groaned, carelessly rubbing his eyes during his tired state. 

“Did one of your favourite manga boys die again?” he asked, now fully sitting up and stretching his arms. 

“You’re not entirely wrong,” you aggravatedly muttered. 

“Then tell me what’s aggravating your pretty self and giving you wrinkles,” he stated and you didn’t even bother showing your irritation to the latter comment. 

You took a deep breath, turned your head and he watched as your eyes became livid as you recited the vast difference of each character’s milieu and how their fate perfectly intertwined with one another. 

Your hands doing all sorts of motions, in an attempt to exemplify your extreme dislike and sadness of the poetic story you read. 

A story involving two individuals who unconsciously were ameliorating each other’s lives.

“It’s infuriating Satoru!! Did these two airheads even love each other?? It hasn’t even been like 24 hours and the girl is already marrying the man who was bawling his eyes over another girl- love of my life my ass,”

Satoru listened to your outburst intently, smiling at the sounds of your melodic voice. 

You let out a small huff of frustration, before finally ending your rant and the tears suddenly cascaded down your pale skin, “That being said, the author is able to write damn well.” 

Satoru only laughed quietly, wiping away your stray tears with his right hand, “I thought you hated sad romantic books? Why would you willingly choose to read Shakespere? At least watch the movie instead,” he replied and began playing with your hair. 

His reply caught you off guard and you tilted your head in confusion, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“You know what book I’m talking about?” you asked incredulously.  

“Yes… why do you look so shocked?” he asked, continuing to brush the threads of your h/l h/c hair, “It’s Romeo and Juliet, how could I not know? I swear Shoto was straight up fangirling about the movie actor-Da Vinci!!” 

“Da Vinci?” you replied, flicking his forehead and trying to hide your growing amusement, causing the man to pout his lips, “How the hell would a painter act? A dead painter at that.”

“No- no Leonardo Da Vinci the actor-”

It took every fibre in you to not burst out laughing at the moron in front of you, “My love, listen to me carefully- it's Di Caprio. Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa.” 

The man in front of you scoffed at your reply. 

“Da Vinci. Di Caprio, who cares. They’re both Leo’s involved in the art industry of the world. You must admit though, neither of them compare to me!” he said proudly. 

“I don’t know…. Leonardo Di Caprio does seem to have a lot of fangirls right now…. I mean have you seen him in Romeo and Juliet? Or better yet, Titanic?”

The man only poked the interior of his cheek with his tongue, scowling at you as you laughed. 

“The real question is though- did you read the book?”

“Yes,” he let out, not missing a beat. 

“The Satoru Gojo reads? The world must be ending,” you teased, clasping one of his hands and using your other hand to caress his cheek. 

Satoru didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned into your hand and softly smiled. 

His eyes soon twinkled into amusement, as an idea struck him. 

Noticing the change of his behaviour, you lifted an eyebrow to display your confusion. Satoru remained silent and instead flipped you over, so that your back was pressed against the couch. 

He smirked, straddling your hips and began tickling your sides. 

Squirming under his touch, you burst into fits of laughter, “T-toru…. S-stop….” you tried to breathe out, “Gojo- p-please hahahaha.”

Your pleas only encouraged him to tickle you faster, and you soon began to kick your feet, thrashing beneath the man as if your strength could overpower his. 

“Say Gojo Satoru is the strongest person in the world,” he smiled, continuing his attack. 

“I’d rather die,” you said in between heaps of laughter.

The man poked the interior of his cheek before smirking at you, a playful smile adorning his face as he continued with his attack. 

“Being tickled to death. Hm that seems new, I’ll discard your body so don’t worry, suit yourself,” he replied and grazed his fingers at your newly exposed skin, since your shirt slowly began to ride up above your navel. 

“Ok ok… Gojo… is the… strongest person….” 

“Go on, continue,” he encouraged. 

Despite the laughter escaping your lips, forcing your eyes shut, you already sensed the cockiness behind his words and you immediately laughed harder when you thought of something that would catch him off guard. 

“Gojo- i-is… the… strongest….” you stuttered out. 

“Altogether, now, state the full name,” he stated. Although, it seemed more like a command than a request. 

“OK!! Gojo Y/n is the strongest person in the world,” you spurred out in one quick breath. 

Impressed with the turn of events and his lack of words, you could not help but smirk- considering you made this cocky guy lose his demeanour. 

His tickling immediately ceased, his irises resembling a deer caught in the headlights, and his mouth slowly falling open. 

Gojo was in disbelief, as he tried to ensure his hearing wasn’t deteriorating and the words that escaped your mouth not too long ago were not a part of his mere illusive imagination.

Before he could recover and say some snide snarky remark, you grabbed Satoru’s shirt, pulling him down with you against the cushions of the couch you resided on. 

The action took him by surprise, but he didn't refuse and instead grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, with his arms eventually caging you beneath him. 

He licked your bottom lip, and you found yourself parting your mouth slightly, both your tongues intertwining with one another. 

Caressing your cheek, he then began to angle your head more towards the left, and did not hesitate to bite your bottom lip shortly after. 

You hissed at the new sensation, and Gojo immediately attempted to alleviate the now burning sensation on your lips by running his lips over the new forming bruise. 

You were the first to pull back to breathe. As the both of you attempted to even out your breathing, one of your hands caressed his dusted pink cheeks, while the other one removed his sunglasses, revealing those piercing icy blue eyes you fell in love with. 

He looked at you with such love and adoration that you could not help but feel butterflies swarming around your stomach. 

Your e/c eyes looked up at his illuminating bright blue ones and you smiled, “I’m the strongest person in the world, Toru.”

“That you are,” he replied, kissing your nose. 

“You’re not even going to rebuttal and be the cocky bastard you usually are?” You questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re the strongest… The strongest doesn’t necessarily mean having the most power. It’s your character. Plus you got me… not just anyone could make me fall in love with them. You have my tall ass whipped around your finger.” 

You stared at your boyfriend, in awe and bursted out laughing. “We’re both strong. How about that?” 

“Mhm. We’re the top two strongest special grade sorcerers to exist, and for the next century to come” he muttered and buried himself into your neck, as he was now fully lying down on you. 

You laughed at his reply, “Your best friend might not like that statement so much,” 

“... I mean you’re also my best friend and technically you’re stronger than him, not by a longshot but still stronger nonetheless… and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he mumbled and kissed your neck. 

You quietly hummed in reply, and began to softly hymn the songs of a soft lullaby.

Satoru was still lying on top of you, and as the melody escaped your lips, your fingers threaded his soft white hair. 

Gojo Satoru was at peace. This cocky bastard was like putty in your hands, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

To others his exterior forecasted a childish, arrogant and conceited individual. One who would blatantly show his dislike to those who he did not give an ounce of care for. 

And to the shaman and other sorcerers who only knew his name, he was a force to be reckoned with and feared. 

But to you, he was only Gojo Satoru. 

“Y/n?” he called out softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know, I love you, right?” his face may have been hiding in your neck, but you could feel him smiling. 

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden comment, but even you couldn’t stop the smile threatening to form, “I know. And I love you too, forever and always,” 

“You didn’t lie though earlier,” he randomly stated, “One day, your new name will become Gojo Y/n.”

“Satoru…” you whispered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall. 

“One day, I’ll marry you… and when we’re older you'll become the mother of our children.”

“One day Satoru, one day,” you replied, kissing his temple. “By the way, since when did you even read- romance books?” 

You felt his breathing hitch and he slowly pried himself off of you, aimlessly scratching the back of his head. 

“Uhm… like two years ago?” 

“Why though?”

“About two years ago,  there was a new transfer student. I noticed she was eloquently spoken, especially in English-”

“Eloquently spoken??” You asked, trying to suppress your laughter. 

“Shut up and let me finish,”

You covered your mouth and smiled. 

“Anyways, I was coming back from a mission and stuffing my face with an assortment of sweets. Then I heard you and Shoko talking about romance novels, and how you liked guys that read… so the first book I picked up was some corny romance manga and then I read Romeo and Juliet. Shitty book that I barely understood but happy ending I guess.” 

“So you only started reading because you overheard me talk about it?” you pinched his cheeks, “Aw, first year Gojo Satoru was so whipped and in love, how sweet” 

Satoru only rolled his eyes at your statement, and you bursted out laughing as you remembered his attempts to woo you back in your first year. 

“I thought you barely had any hobbies?” you asked. 

“I don’t. Because I’m good at everything.” 

“Yet you still chose to pick up reading of all things?” you slightly laughed. 

“I would pick up any hobby if you asked me to, honestly.”

“No offence, but if that is where you got your romance from you did a shitty job, love.” you giggled. 

“Ouch,” he replied,  “But hey it went pretty well, you’re mine now anyways.” 

 “That you are,” You replied, kissing his nose. “So if you read the book and I assume you also watched the movie, do you understand my pain?” 

“100% Romeo is an airhead. He was probably just horny and infatuated with the first female he saw,” he bluntly stated and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud, Satoru joining in on your laughter. 

As your laughs began to die down he continued, “On a serious note though… Whether or not it was love, their actions prove that they did love each other. I guess love really does make you blind, their suicide only proved that.”

“Tragic ending?” 

“Not really… in a way, I believe it’s a happy ending- that is, assuming those two airheads were actually in love with each other.”

“Did you not hear me muttering cuss words when reading and slamming the book? If you asked me, that book was nothing but aggravating and sad.” 

“Sad as their death was, it was a happy ending. They claimed to have met their soulmate and the love of their life before they died. Not everyone gets that luxury you know?” 

You looked at your boyfriend with both amazement and confusion, “Since when were you so wise?” 

“I don’t even know, love. But I’m not wrong…. Our story would be much happier though, because neither of us are gonna die.”

“You spoke nothing but the truth,” you quietly replied and the two of you began leaning into each other once again. 

“Who knew Satoru could be such a wise lil baby,” said a voice, laughing. 

The two of you immediately pulled away, and looked up to see no one other than Geto Suguru, the poor third wheeler of your relationship. 

“Suguru… how long have you been there for?” you asked. 

“Enough to know that this man loves you way too much… to the point where he knows his feelings for you aren’t infatuation but solid feelings.” 

While you were a blushing mess, Gojo only smiled and smacked his best friend on his back, “Okay enough chit chat, why don’t we all get something to eat, yeah? I suggest-” 

“Steak. We’re eating steak tonight at that new restaurant. You both are paying. It’s the least you could do for making me witness such crap.” 

“You’re just mad because you’re single, bro”

“Ain’t that the truth,” you agreed. 

“Shut the actual fuck, both of you lovebirds.”

The three of you then laughed and made your way to the restaurant of Suguru’s choice.

A/n: So any thoughts? I hope you all liked it <3 Ngl, this does have another part to it, but idk if I'll ever post it tbh. Follow me on my ao3 account I have other ffs there too @idekmxre

[thelov3lybookworm]

Grumpy

Summary: Amelia is grumpy

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: just a silly lil drabble heh

anyways, enjoyy!

Going out with anyone that was not his wife and daughter was not something Eris really looked forward to, because he just despised every creature that was not his mate or the being they created.

But obviously, his wife being the complete opposite of him, was a social butterfly, and probably had more friends than she could count. And because of that, Eris had to suffer too.

He stood off to the side as Y/n greeted Vivianne, bright smiles on both the females faces as they embraced. Kallias too smiled, his son nestled in the crook of his neck as he slept away. The babe looked peaceful, unaware of his surroundings, only knowing hat he was safe in the arms of his father, his protector.

Eris and Amelia, though, they were both in a bad mood. Eris, because he was forced to come along and pretend to be nice in front of his fellow high lord and his lady, and Amelia, because she did not have her favourite puppy, mister fluff, panting around her.

She had a permanent pout on her face as she fumbled with the lapels of Eris's jacket, a furrow in her brow. If Eris was being honest, she looked adorable when she was mad. She could be in one of her worst moods and Eris would be in love with his daughter.

As the two mothers continued to converse, Eris leaned forward to place a kiss on Amelia's forehead, right over her brows, but the moment he pulled back, she frowned up at him.

"Is my little princess mad?"

She turned her head away, her eyes going to Kallias, who waved at her, making her grumble. Eris grinned, kissing her temple as he waited for Y/n to give him some idea on when the group was going to step into the warmth of the palace. Winter court was too freezing for Eris's liking.

Vivianne, seemingly only realising that Eris was present too, turned to him, smiling. "Hello, high lord. Hope you didn't have too many troubles crossing the border?"

Eris smiled back politely. "No, lady. There were no issues."

She nodded, giddily stepping forward as she cooed at Amelia.

"Hello to you too little one."

She reached out to grab Amelia, who recoiled, just a little, her hand curling into Eris's clothes. Vivianne didn't stop, trying to pick up Amelia, who then let out an ear piercing cry, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. The winter court female stepped back, her eyes wide and apologetic as she tried to console the crying babe.

Eris started bouncing his daughter, letting her lay her head on his chest as she cried. "It's okay my love, nothing happened."

She whimpered in response, her hands on his shoulders, trying to hold on. Y/n reassured her friend that she did nothing wrong, that Amelia had just been fussy since morning, and Eris had to reign in a disbelieving scoff.

As if it was Amelia's fault for crying.

He turned away a little, still rocking her back and forth as he continued whispering in her ear. "Its alright, no one will take you from daddy. Shh. Its okay."

Everyone else decided to proceed into the majestic palace, and as Amelia quieted down after a few moments of relentless sobbing, Eris sighed, relieved as he started following the others into the home of the High lord.

Amelia raised her head to look at Eris, her lip jutting out, silver lining her wide, adorable eyes. Eris smiled at her, placing his lips at her forehead and eyes before se nestled against him again, starting to drift off.

"Sleep, my love." Eris hummed, rubbing her back. "I'll try to get us back home as soon as I can."

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @eve175 @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady @lilah-asteria

@girlswithimagination @gardenofrunar @girlswithimagination @sunnyspycat

@artists-ally @milswrites @riddlesb1tch @berryzxx

@buttermilktea11

Eris Vanserra Taglist: @fell-in-luvs @azrielsmate3 @tele86 @caraaaaugh

@ysmtttty

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐇𝐋𝐈𝐀

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: whenever summer comes around, especially when dahlias bloom, everything begins to remind you of your late lover

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: alhaitham x gn!reader. sfw. angst. modern!au (could be read as canon tbh), character death mention (alhaitham), hurt/slight comfort, very bittersweet, previously established relationship, unresolved grief, reminiscing, heavy summer and flower themes 0.8k wc. masterlist | byf/dni

a/n: this is my submission for the @pixelcafe-network's Challenge Friday that we do every few weeks. this time the prompt was "goodbye, my summer love". as I deal with some personal grief rn, writing this was a nice way to cope, and doing a very angsty take was kind of fun. the title of this drabble was named after the perfume 'Midnight Dahlia' by Korres but the plot is my own

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Summer days were always long and languid.

Once, they felt like a letter from a lover, but now they remain a capsule of something lost. Alhaitham always said that when being bathed by the sun, time truly slowed down; if you listened carefully, you could hear the world hum under its breath. 

Alhaitham said a lot of things, which was ironic because back then, you and everyone who knew him, had always teased him for being the quieter type. 

But the truth was you never fully understood ‘quiet’ until he was gone.

It was during the height of summer when he’d bring you dahlias. With his endless knowledge of everything that lived and breathed, you quickly learned the meanings — purple for dignity, yellow for joy, white for purity. His mixed bundles were his way of telling you that, to him, you were all of the above.

Dignified. Joyful. Filled with the purest form of love. 

They weren’t always your favourite but over time, you had grown to love them because they reminded you of him. Since the day he left you, it took you longer than you wanted to admit to stop weeping every time you saw one.

Still, you made the effort to bring some home whenever they were in season. It was akin to pretending that he was not truly gone but just somewhere else for a while.

As the last day of summer transitioned, you sat on the porch, watching the sky deepen into the hours before dawn. The dahlias in the vase beside you were wilting, petals curling as if bracing for the inevitable chill of autumn. Your chest tightened, knowing what that meant.

People used hourglasses to measure time. You had flowers.

You brushed the fragile petals with your fingertips, and for a fleeting moment, you were taken to a time when your world was whole.

It was a late evening when you and Alhaitham sat in silence, surrounded by the last blooms of the season. He had been reading, and you simply watched him, content with the quietness. Amused, he rose from his spot to pluck a single dahlia from the garden and tucked it behind your ear. You were baffled, he noticed in your face, but you relaxed when you were met with his eyes. They were honest and made your skin grow hot. They were worth a room full of gold.

It had been years since Alhaitham passed. The grief dulled but it never left, lingering like a curse that could not be broken. You tried to move forward but summer always brought him back.

Something as simple as a stroll on the beach was enough to tug at your heart because the sand bore one less set of footprints, the warmth of the sun graced one less body, and sometimes when the sea breeze came, you felt the echo of his presence behind you as if you were still walking, hand in hand. 

But it was the dahlias that hurt the most. They mostly bloomed in the heat and every summer, they seemed to grow just for you, as if Alhaitham was sending them as a reminder. 

Closing your eyes, memories came flooding in like waves, threatening to pull you under into the past. You remembered how his hand brushed against you the day he made you his and your fingers involuntarily twitched at the thought. In his bedroom, the air was thick with the scent of earth and flowers, and sunlight spilled lazy shadows onto the wooden floors through his sheer curtains. Your lips quivered because you never forgot how it made you feel when he leaned in and kissed you. You could still taste the sea salt on your lips.

Time stretched endlessly that day but time caught up with everyone, eventually.

You exhaled a shaky breath, your jaw was trembling.

Summer always ruined you.

Grief, no matter how much time passed, always weaved its way back in. Saying goodbye to him never felt final. He lingered in the corners of your heart, in warm afternoons, in the bloom of the dahlias.

When a cool breeze brought you back to the present, you felt the world shake. You opened your eyes just in time to see one of the petals lift from its stem and float away. It danced through the air, weightless and alone, waiting to disappear into the night. You watched it until it was out of sight, lost to the starless sky.

“Goodbye, Alhaitham,” you whispered. You even thought you smiled a little, too. 

For the first week of autumn, you returned to the porch, waiting for a hint of rain and watching for any sign of encroaching storm clouds. You breathed in and out. It was time for the axe to fall.

Goodbye, Alhaitham.

The dahlias will come again next summer, and with them, so would your memories of him. 

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform.

networks: @houseofsolisoccasum @nereidsrealm

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[sehodreams]

hiya!! first off wanted to say i love ur blog and i enjoy reading all ur content but esp look out for ur toxic!riize headcanons those are fun haha, i was wondering if and only if ur comfortable with it cuz it’s a little weird.. but thoughts or a drabble about like bully! or toxic! sungchan with plus size!reader but he likes to tease her for her size sometimes but it’s really just to hide how attracted he is to every aspect of her.. idk like only if you’ve got some ideas, that’s all… thank you and i hope you have a great day!

pinching

TW and tags: oral sex (f receiving), bully!Sungchan x plus size!reader, bullying (duh), heavy dubcon.

WC: 1.8k

Comment: thank you so much hahaha, I'm happy that you like my silly content, I love toxic!riize too, to be honest, I also want to write a toxic!sungchan x plus size!reader, I have an idea but I've been so busy I haven't been able to write properly in days, still, i hope you like this bully!Sungchan. Pd: please look at that picture, I imagined him looking like that the whole time.

You have a couple of memories from that place, like how good it felt to hug your grandmother before bed, how there was a little stall in front of your school that always had tasty sweets, and how there was a little boy you used to walk home with after classes finished.

There wasn’t much objection once your mother said you would go back and live together in your grandmother's place to not leave the house empty. You had a couple of friends, but it was nothing special, so you said goodbye to them and moved with your mother without problem.

You had to admit you were even kind of happy, perhaps you could eat those sweets again, and you wouldn’t be able to hug your grandmother, but at least you would feel her presence with the old floors and flower decorations that surrounded every room, and especially, you hoped you could see him again.

You should've known by that point in your life that having expectations only leaves you with the sour aftertaste of disappointments.

The stall wasn’t there anymore, your mother changed the whole house, leaving no trace of your grandmother behind, and the sweet boy that used to follow you with a smile now followed you to make fun of you.

It was easy to recognize him, he had the same eyes and shiny smile, and you were elated to see a good old friend now all grown up into a real man, but he wasn’t as happy to see you there, showing you a disgusted face once you told him who you were.

‘’Don’t fucking talk to me’’ he said, and you didn’t understand what you had done wrong, perhaps you were too confident, or your perfume wasn’t to his liking, or your hand was sweating too much when you touched him, you had no idea why he reacted like that, but you understood that, just like his appearance, he had changed, because that sweet boy you used to know would never talk to you that way.

Just that interaction was enough to make you never want to approach him again, and you tried to not even look at him when you recognized his voice, you didn't want to hear that tone ever again, and you did your best, but it was useless, you had become his new favourite thing.

At first, he was all words and no bite, throwing comments every now and then about your physical appearance, comparing you to a pig when you ate your lunch in the cafeteria, or mocking your uniform for being bigger than normal because of your size.

His friends only laughed at his comments, and those who weren’t his friends stayed silent, no one dared to approach you afraid of receiving the same treatment.

Then, he started to touch you.

He pinched your arm, telling you to give him your homework to copy it, then it was your cheeks, telling you to stop eating if you didn’t want to gain weight, and then, one day, when all of them had left for EP class and you were searching for your towel in your seat, from behind, he pinched your waist.

You turned to him, scared, it had hurt a lot more than when he did it to your cheek, and he definitely had done it with the intention of hurting you.

When you looked at his face, his typical grin wasn’t there, replaced by a surprised face and curious eyes, and you felt that something wrong was about to happen, so you pushed him out of the way and walked out of there as soon as you could without caring that you left with empty hands.

‘’Where’s your towel?’’ your professor asked you.

‘’I forgot it’’ you answered, not wanting to go back to the classroom.

Later, Sungchan arrived with your towel in his hand, and you got punished for not bringing all the obligatory material.

He got worse.

if he crossed you in the hallways, he would shamelessly pinch your waist until you hissed, and when he found you in the library, between shelves, he would pinch your ass, grinning from ear to ear at the picture of you biting your lips to not make a sound and get in trouble again.

As if everything he did was an innocent game, he smiled at you after nipping you in different parts of your body, like the side of your ribcage when you decided to walk away, the back of your hand when you tried to push him or your thighs when he sat beside you in the cafeteria or the study room.

‘’Why are you doing this?’’ you whispered, pushing his hand away from prying under your skirt and pinching your upper leg.

‘’Look at all that skin, your body is begging for it’’ he answered, grabbing your round hand with force to stop you from getting away, and then when you tried to do it again, he pinched the space of your boob that your bra didn’t cover, making you whimper of pain, laughing at your hurt expression.

‘’It really hurts!’’ you tried to reason with him, but he was a lost case, and he didn’t care that you were full of little purple and green spots, flinching at the mere sight of him lurking around, he wanted more.

This is going to end at one point, you tried to fool yourself.

He’d get tired and leave you alone when he found a new toy, it was impossible he only focused on you the whole time, and even if it was like that, it was your last year. After that, you’d never see him again.

Everything has an end.

Your house was the only safe space you had, even if it wasn’t anything like the warm memory you had about it, it was a place that had never been tainted by Sungchan, not like your school or the streets you walked to get there.

He would sometimes follow you and murmur insults while pretending he was your good friend walking you home, but once you opened your door and saw that he stayed feet away, you would exhale, relieved of him not trying to follow you inside too.

‘’Your friend is waiting for you in your room, I’ll go and buy something for you to eat later’’ your mother smiled, ‘’He’s become such a handsome boy’’.

She, unlike you, was excited to have him there, and you, trying to breathe properly to not show how the panic was consuming you, nodded.

There was nothing you could do to run away, it was your house, and opening your door, you saw him calmly looking at your stuff.

Your pillow wasn’t where you left it, he had definitely been roaming around for a while, invading your space and doing whatever he wanted, like he always did.

Standing in front of your bookshelf, one of your books open in his hands, he recognized your presence.

‘’Thought you would never come, didn’t know you took so many walks’’ he said and went through the pages of it, as if there was exactly something he was looking for, ‘’it doesn’t explain why you still look like that though’’.

‘’Sungchan… I’ve done nothing to you’’ you sounded as if you begging at that point, ‘’why… I don’t get why’’.

‘’I have my reasons’’ he answered, leaving the book where it was.

You flinched when he showed the intention of getting close to you, your hands becoming fists, alert, ready to run to another room in case he tried to hurt you again.

‘’We were friends’’ you said, lower lip trembling, ‘’please stop, Sungchan, it hurts’’.

He saw you like that, broken, vulnerable, and he beamed with it, walking towards you, and you thought your body would listen to you and escape, but it didn’t. Closing your door behind you, he pressed the little secure, making you finally react with the sound of the click, trembling in your place.

‘’But if I don’t touch you, who else will?’’ he whispered, taking your shaking hand, not pinching it this time, he interlocked his fingers with yours and pulled you closer to him, ‘’if you’re good, I’ll stop being so hard with you, what do you think about that?’’ he offered.

You didn’t understand, being good with what? You stayed still, looking up at him, your chest pressed against him, and his other hand went to rest over the small of your back, the generous curve from your ass to your waist that was the object of so many of his jokes.

You could see where the thing was going, and you felt yourself get nauseous with his aroma flooding your room and his temperature making you hot with almost no distance between your bodies.

‘’My mom will come back in any second…’’ you didn’t know what other excuse to use.

‘’I’ll be quick’’ his tongue poked out and wet his lips, sending a signal to your brain that screamed just be good and finish it.

‘’Will it hurt?’’ your face betrayed you, plainly showing all the fears you had, giving him, once again, the upper hand.

‘’Not anymore’’ he assured you. His hand that used to bring you so much pain suddenly became gentle and trailed up, caressing your arm with multiple marks from him, groping your chest a few times before he cupped your face. You didn’t make a single sound, not the hiss you always left out when he pinched you, or the cry when he was being too much, ‘’well done’’ he praised you when you let him open your thighs with his leg.

He quickly found his place, your pants were somewhere in your room, and his head was between your trembling legs, slurping all the involuntary wetness your body made you drip to accept him and not suffer.

Not being able to say his name properly, you moaned when his palms gripped your meaty thighs a bit too hard and his tongue found your entrance, bumping his nose against your clit between your plump folds, making you squirm at the intense sensation of him eating you out like a hungry man.

Your hands went to his hair, and you don’t know what flooded you, but you felt free to hurt him too, so you pulled his hair and moved your hips to crash his face, using him instead of the way around.

Then it felt good, to hurt him felt really good, and you thought, maybe this is why he does it, because you had never felt so powerful and in control before, especially with him.

Looking down, you two made eye contact even with your chubby stomach prodding out. His eyes had nothing of the mockery they always showed, completely lost instead, and you whimpered when he seemed pleased to have you focusing on him and what he was doing.

Not much after he started fucking you with his tongue the knot in your stomach started to feel so tight you knew it would snap in any second, so closing your large legs around his head, you crushed his head as much as you could while cumming, overflowing over his mouth and nose, asphyxiating him for a few seconds before you relaxed and finished giving him all you had.

He didn’t move away, gulping your juices and then moving his mouth up to leave a loving peck on your clit, as if he was proud you had abused him like that, and before he caught his breath again, he talked. ‘’See? This didn’t hurt’’ he smiled with the lower half of his face glistening with your orgasm.

[abrcmswrld]

NSFW Alphabet | TFE!Edward Nashton x Reader

Word Count: 1,979

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MDNI), seriously this whole thing is smut and that’s it, AFAB terms used

Summary: A collection of drabbles centered around sex with my version of Edward Nashton from my fic series: The French Exit.

Author’s Note: This is dedicated to the discord server. I’ve loved getting to know their Eddie’s. Thank you for giving my Eddie a chance.

HBD Pookie<3

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

He's tender and clingy, keeping his arms wrapped around you for as long as he possibly can until you finally nudge him off to clean up. After that he's helpful, he loves taking the time to wipe you down. He'll take any excuse to touch your body, really.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He's never given it much thought for himself. He's always thought himself to be below average in most categories. Whether it's looks or strength, he's always felt himself fall short. But he can recognize that he excels in brains. He is quite proud of the mind he has.

When it comes to you however, he can't find a part that he doesn't like, but the feeling of your thighs is absolute heaven to him. He loves to sink his fingertips into the soft flesh as he laps his tongue over you or as he fucks into you slowly. He also loves to rest his head on them and feel your fingers trailing through his hair.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

He will cum anywhere you ask. By the time he reaches his climax, he’s putty in your hands. Any dominance he may have held is gone as his legs shake. You want him to cum on your stomach, back, face, inside you? He’ll do it. But if he’s being honest he prefers to finish inside of you. The sticky slickness as he continues to rut into you even after finishing is the perfect overstimulation.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's very voyeuristic. To an alarming extent. The view from your window is just perfect. He can feel the pressure in his pants the moment you begin to undress after a long day at the office. Of course, you know exactly what he's doing and you secretly get off on it too.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He has very little experience. Aside from a pity handjob in his early 20's, he's avoided most sexual interaction. He doesn't find it easy to go on dates. He has a decent idea of how things work as he has watched plenty of porn in his lifetime, but I wouldn't call him experienced.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His weak spot is missionary. He loves to hover over you with you caged in him arms. He enjoys taking it one step further and lifting your leg to his shoulder. It gives him the same pleasure of seeing your face with an added bit of pressure that gets both you and him to the edge faster than any other position.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

You’re the one person he can let a chuckle out with. He tries to embrace that side of himself in closed off spaces with just the two of you, such as the break room. But for some reason he can’t make it translate into the bedroom. He’s never been so intimate with someone before, it’s very serious to him. He’s too focused on the ecstasy of the moment and the feelings he has for you pouring out to goof off at all.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He keeps himself trimmed decently. He tried to shave completely once, but ended up giving himself awful razor burn and cuts. He’s not been a fan since.

He doesn’t have a preference for his partner. He loves for them feel confident however they choose.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

As previously said, he’s never experienced such intimacy with anyone before. Never had someone touch him with such tenderness, like they want to heal all of his wounds, internal and external. He often finds himself crying during the act. It’s not a sadness response and it’s something he’s found he can’t quite control. He just wants you to know how much he loves you in that moment. He wants to be as close as two souls can possibly be.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He’s masturbates decently often. More often after developing a crush on you. Less often when the tension breaks between the two of you. He’d much rather feel your hand, mouth, heat, than his own hand.

Before you, his relationship with masturbation wasn’t great. Years of catholic guilt can do that to a person. He often fights the feeling of shame after his release. He struggles to enjoy the feeling of bliss while coming down. Watching you pleasure yourself for him, and the way you whimper and smile through it intrigues him, and he strives to be able to enjoy himself in a similar fashion.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Voyeurism: This is his big one. It’s questionable at times. He knows it’s sick, the way he watches you through your window, but he can’t help himself. It’s as if you left the curtain open as an invitation.

Even as your relationship progresses, he finds himself asking you if he can watch as you pleasure yourself. He loves to observe. He loves to take note of the things that make you whimper.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers the comfort of your home. It’s warm and safe and comfortable. Nothing else to bother the two of you. Although he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about bending you over his desk at the office. He finds himself getting hard in his pants as he thinks about it, looking over his shoulder at your concentrated face as you sit at your own desk. He pushes the thought away for his own good.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

He’s ashamed to say that everything you do turns him on. He hides it out of fear of offending you or making you believe he only likes the sex, but it’s the little things that get him going. The way you bite your lip while you concentrate on work, the way you laugh at his jokes, the brush of your legs up against him, it all turns him on.

N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

He’s not big on any form of weapon play. The idea using a weapon (even in a safe and monitored way) on you makes his stomach turn rather than turn him on. He doesn’t like to mix that side of him with your intimacy.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He definitely prefers to give rather than receive. Not that he doesn’t enjoy receiving, but he gets just as much pleasure from eating you out. He loves to bury his head between your thighs and rut against the mattress. Pull him in by his hair and he will cum in his pants.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

His pace depends on the mood he is in. Sometimes he enjoys a loving, slow pace. It allows him to slowly take you apart, piece by piece. But sometimes he loves to drive into you fast and rough. The sound of his skin slapping against yours spurs him on. He loves the way your eyes roll back as he abuses that spot inside you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Shockingly enough, Edward enjoys quickies. He likes to think of it as a miniature version of what you always do. If you’re pressed for time, if the two of you have work, he loves to get in one last fuck. He loves to cum inside of you and watch you leave for work right after.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

His entire life is a risk. The Riddler is a risk. He’d rather not bring you into that risk. He’s seen the way that porn frames scenarios of risky public sex to look enticing, but he just can’t bring himself to enjoy it with you. He’d never put you in a risky position on purpose. You’re the one pure thing in his life.

However, he is willing to experiment with kinks inside the comfort of your own home. He’s supportive when you ask and always tries his best to feed into your fantasies, even if it doesn’t always stick for you guys.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

His stamina is dependent on his mood at the moment. If you have him extremely riled up, he is ready to go multiple rounds with little to no recovery period. However, sometimes he loves a good lazy fuck and to just cuddle up to you afterwards in a hazy, tired bliss.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He’d never owned toys before you. He’d thought about it, but never gotten the courage to try them for himself. He knows you own many though and he enjoys using them with you. His favorite is pressing your vibrator to your sensitive bud as he fucks you deep. He loves the way it makes you squirm under him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease and be teased. Although he does find it difficult to tease you for very long. He loves to hear you beg for him and the moment a soft ‘please’ escapes your lips he gives you everything you need.

He loves when you are unfair to him. He loves the playful look in your eyes as you gives him teasing kisses and licks all over his body.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He tries but is generally unsuccessful at holding in his cries and moans. They often come out as a choked off and whiney mess. He loves to hear your sweet noises. He nibbles at your weak spots until you cry out his name. It makes him smile into your flesh.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He loves to see you wear his clothes. He has to hide the erection growing in his pants when he does something as small as giving you his jacket to wear when you’re cold. It’s such a small action but the way his clothes practically swallow you makes his heart race.

X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)

Watching porn all those years hasn’t helped his self esteem. He finds himself feeling insecure about his size a lot. He’s about average length, but is decently thick. He loves it when you let him know how much he stretches you, and the way you clench around him as he drives into you. It’s the only thing that can ease his insecurities.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He is ready to go pretty much whenever. All it takes is the slightest touch of your hands down his chest and sides and those longing kisses, and he is ready. He finds that his sex drive is much higher since becoming intimate with you. It’s a new experience and he finds himself craving you often.

Z = ZZZ (... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He has gone most of his life struggling with sleep. The orphanage had given him horrific night terrors and his sleep schedule has never been normal. But, after sex with you he feels a calm wash over him that he can't explain. For once he is peaceful and finds himself drifting to sleep rather quickly.

[aether-bun]

Happy Birthday!

To celebrate my birthday, here's a drabble of assorted Hades characters and how they'd be on your birthday! You are in a relationship with Zagreus in this one :)

Characters: Nyx, Orpheus, Eurydice, Zagreus, Thanatos, Hypnos, Dusa, Megaera, Achilles, Patroclus, Cerberus, Asterius, Sisyphus, Bouldy

Warnings: None! Good wholesome times all around ♡

You wake up to Zagreus kissing your face!!!!

I believe in Zagreus caring deeply for physical touch and quality time your honour. Once you warm him up to it, it's his heaven in Hell. He adores it.

He's very warm, but it's never really been a problem, given the consistently nice temperature of the House

"Good morning, [Y/N]. Happy birthday~" He cooes gently, his voice is smoother than the finest ambrosia and you revel in it, snuggling into his chest.

"What would you like to do today, my dear?"

"Mmh....Is sleep an option...?" Zagreus chuckles at your drowsy response, his chest rumbles pleasantly and you find a contagious smile growing on your face.

"Birthdays only happen once a year, darling...Come on. Eurydice made you some cake."

"She did?"

"Yes! When I told her it was your birthday this week, she jumped to the opportunity."

"Then I suppose I must get up?"

Zagreus kisses your head lightly, and you melt from the tender care

"I suppose you must, yes."

You wake up and get into some nicer robes, and walk out with Zagreus to see Nyx regard you.

"Happy birthday, child. As a token of this occasion, I managed to convince Hades to give everyone a moment off, to greet you." Nyx's voice almost sends you to sleep again, but you're much more awake now, and you feel too sheepishly happy to rest.

"Lady Nyx, you really didn't need to...!" Your voice is as incredulous as you feel. "But...Thank you."

"Of course. I believe Hypnos wanted a word, so perhaps you should see to him first."

You and Zagreus walk over to Hypnos, who is currently not sleeping, which shocks you both, though he looks about ready to knock out for the next week at the minimum.

"[Y/N]!! Happy birthday! Dusa and I made you a little something, here here!" He exclaims, all tiredness wiped from his aura entirely as he hands you a small box.

Gingerly, you take off the lid, and inside you are happy to find a new laurel, woven carefully with your favourite colours and plants. You find yourself beaming at the beautiful heartfelt gift, before giving Hypnos a tight squeeze.

"Thank you so much, Hypnos. The detail is incredible!" You say as you part, and Hypnos giggles with a mischevious grin. "It was mostly Dusa, to be perfectly honest, but I helped weave it, so getting the first hug of appreciation for it feels fair."

You laugh, before Sir Achilles approaches with a calm smile of his own, before placing a hand on your arm.

"Unfortunately, I don't have any gifts for you myself, but I do wish you a happy birthday nonetheless. Do spend today well, yes?"

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best." You smile, remarking mentally that your cheeks are starting to hurt, but also that you don't find yourself minding.

Next stop is to Meg and Dusa, who are waiting in the lounge with Thanatos. When they see you approach, Dusa is the first to float to you. The snakes that make up her hair affectionately grasp onto your arm as you hold Dusa affectionately. "Happy birthday!" She skitters, almost purring in a strange, Dusa-like way.

Meg is next, though she holds her distance as per usual. She's smiling, and her whip is stowed. "I've gotta hand it to you, [Y/N], I don't usually tend to care for birthdays, never mind my own...but you got me a morning in the lounge. So...thanks for that."

It was a strange way to go about saying happy birthday, but for you, it was more than enough. You nodded. "I can't believe Nyx pulled it off. Surely there are some wretched shades out there being overworked now, no?"

Megaera simply shrugs, but the creeping grin on her face tells you she hopes it's the case.

Thanatos clears his throat, and you realise he's held something out to you. It was a bottle of nectar. You gasp, taking the weighted spherical bottle in awe.

Zagreus squints at it, still by your side, before suddenly looking at Thanatos. "I gave you this bottle of nectar yesterday!" He says, indignant. Thanatos smiles - a rarity on its' own - and simply dismisses the Prince.

"Regardless of where you got it from...Thank you, Than, this...this means a lot." You say, your voice still awestruck by the honey gold liquid you're holding.

Zagreus of course brings you plenty, but even so, its' beauty never ceased to amaze.

You visit Sisyphus, who gives you Pebble (one of Bouldy's brothers, who has a delicately punched smiley face on one side), then you visit Orpheus and Eurydice, who gives you a kiss on the cheek and some cake, then you meet with Patroclus, who takes your hand very hesitantly and prays for you, for your good luck this year. He says he'll see you at the house, and on your way back, you find Asterius.

Zagreus prepares for a fight, but Asterius is unarmed, and he quickly realises.

"Asterius? What are you doing here, without your axe?" He asks. Asterius chuffs.

"Your father gave us a small break this morning, small one. You said something about celebrating someone's birthday last we clashed blades, and so, naturally, I assumed it would be your lover's. Was I correct?"

Zagreus stows his blade and you nod a little. "That's right, Asterius sir." You clarify. "It's good to know he gave even you and Theseus a break, too."

Asterius snorts, though it's not one of amusement or malice, simply a noise. He rifles through a pouch he has, before handing you a weighty box. Inside is a handaxe, crafted by the minotaur.

"You have no weaponry when you wander out here, I've come to notice. This is for when we meet in the stadium. For if you need more than simply the blessings of the Olympians." The bass voice of the bull rumbles, and you hold the axe firmly with a grin. Zagreus chuckles next to you.

"I appreciate this, Asterius. Thank you. Send our regards to King Theseus?"

Asterius laughs.

"I don't think he'd take it well, but I wish you a good day despite."

Asterius leaves, and you and Zagreus are amusedly quick to do the same.

Eventually, after a day of exploration, you cuddle up to Cerberus and thank Nyx on your way through, before laying down with your Zagreus.

"Today was fantastic, dearest." You say. Zagreus holds you close, playing with your hair. "I'm glad. But there's still one present you've yet to receive, my dear~"

It's 1AM right now. Use your imagination.

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

Diaboy Yandere Quiz Results

So if you haven't taken my "which one of the diabolik lovers boys would go yandere for you?" quiz, you might want to do that before reading the rest of this post. If you have taken the quiz and are curious as to what the other results are like but don't want to retake said quiz 14 times, then this post is for you! Below the cut are the yandere!diaboy x reader drabbles for every diaboy + Karl that I wrote for the quiz.

Quick warning: These drabbles feature dark content including themes of imprisonment, torture, blackmail and stalking.

Combined these results have a total word count of 3.4k :') If you enjoy them, let me know which one is your favourite!

Shuu

You’re crying again. You’re not being loud about it but from where you’re currently splayed half on top of him—the heat of you warming his bones in lieu of the fireplace he refuses to light—it would be impossible for him not to notice the faint trembling of your body and the growing wet patch on his shoulder. There isn’t any point in saying much when you’re like this, which is somewhat ironic when you’re the only person he’d even consider putting the effort in for. Instead he shifts slightly, moving his arm over you so you’re more securely held against him while the other slips out one of his earbuds and places it into your ear instead. He’s not stupid, he knew what dragging you to the other side of the world—far away from everything you’d ever known—would do to you, but if he’s honest with himself he’d do it again in a heartbeat. It was your own fault, in a way, for making him care, for making the fear when he saw the way Reiji looked at you sharp enough to cut through the numbness he’d lived with for so long. Yes, it was you who’d sought him out in the first place, so no matter how miserable you might be now, you only had yourself to blame.

Reiji

The tea in your cup is poisoned. You’re sure of it, even without the faint bitterness tainting the delicate aroma, you can tell from the look in Reiji’s eyes alone—you’ve seen it often enough. The question is what concoction he’s prepared for you this time; whether he’s decided he’d rather you be numb and pliant or feverish with want. Still, you do not break your composure, remaining the image of grace as you lift the cup to your mouth. The tight corset your captor has forced upon is not nearly as constricting as the way he watches you, his own cup left ignored on the table. Months ago you’d have scoffed at the idea of someone willing drinking poisoned tea, but now you are aware the consequences if you do not will be far worse than whatever toxins he’s prepared for you. He won’t kill you, you don’t think, not when the way he looks at you can only be described as obsessive. You used to think it came from his desire to mold you into his ideal of a perfect partner, but now you’re not so sure. Sometimes, when you catch him watching you while you’re supposed to be asleep, you wonder if just maybe he simply wants you. A pity for him then, that no matter how many restraints he binds you with or drugs he pours down your throat, you will ensure your heart remains forever out of his reach.

Ayato

Blood always tastes at its best when the person being drunk from enjoys it. It’s something Ayato figured out after the old bastard let them loose in the human world, the occasional sacrificial bride being ferried in to keep them from causing enough trouble to attract unwanted attention. But no blood has ever tasted as sweet as yours when you’re pinned down beneath him, whimpering in the ecstasy of having your lifeblood drained away and mixing with his. He draws away only briefly to take note of your expression, eyes screwed up with tears of pleasure brewing at the corners. You look amazing like this, even better than you had in the cute little cheerleading outfit you’d worn to school sports games, back before he’d had his first taste of you. You’d screamed the first time, your usual bright enthusiasm falling off your features as you’d realized what he was. And yet you’d still come to your practice the very next day, a brightly coloured band-aid on your neck to hide the marks. When he’d come back for a second bite, you’d only struggled a little—enough to keep things interesting, but not so much that you could fool him into thinking you were actually trying to get away. No, you want to be here, he’s certain of it, and he’s generous enough to keep you.

Kanato

You’re alone again today. Sitting perfectly still, empty bento box in your lap, eyes shut as you listen to a soft melodic tune through your headphones. You look lovely like this, the moonlight filtering through the window painting the planes of your face a silvery hue. It's only the fact you look so peaceful—almost like one of his wax dolls—that keeps Kanato from tearing your headphones away. He will, once he's had enough of watching you like this, and he knows from your previous encounters that the wide-eyed expression you’ll make is almost as good as the one you wear now. The still healing marks from his fangs peek out from the collar of your white school shirt and the corner of his lips twist. You’ve not told any of your schoolmates of any of your encounters, he’s certain of it from how closely he’s been watching you. If anything, you’ve isolated yourself even further than you already were, only briefly exchanging pleasantries in that barely there voice of yours he’s grown so fond of. The air stirs faintly, a gentle breeze through a cracked open window, and you open your eyes. The fear is immediate as you take in his face, close enough to yours that you should have been able to feel his breath—if he had any need to breathe. He does now, to take in the scent of your terror, and it is oh so very sweet.

Laito

Laito has broken so many mortal things, he’s long since lost count. He can’t even remember what all of them looked like, but he does remember the expressions on their faces in their final moments—fervent devotion, desperation and sometimes just pure madness. You, however, he’s had for months, and yet the light has yet to fade from your eyes despite his very best efforts. Sometimes you even look at him with pity—likely due to what you’ve put together of his history from the scraps of it scattered over the manor—though those days have grown less frequently since he made your move to his room a permanent affair. Now when you look at him, it’s mostly filled with a hatred that burns brighter than any emotion he’s ever had from his other lovers. It’s intoxicating, more so than even your blood. Laito’s not sure when exactly he stopped wanting anyone else to see it—or when he stopped wanting anything else for that matter. He thinks you feel the same way, that you’d like nothing more than to see him dead, enough that it keeps the spark inside of you burning bright. You’d confessed to believing in love once in the early days and he’d laughed at you for it. Even now the memory makes him scoff, for the love you spoke of that day could never possibly compare to this.

Subaru

You get the impression you’re being watched. It’s subtle at first, a small movement at the corner of your eye that vanishes as soon as you turn towards it. A faint prickle on the back of your neck every so often when you walk through the hallway. It doesn’t take long for things to escalate, until you can no longer shake the feeling of eyes on you almost everywhere you go. You think there’s something else going on too, the underclassman who you could have sworn had a crush on you now refuses to so much as look at you and he’d gone running like the devil himself was on his tail when you’d tried to approach him. Other people around you have started behaving weirdly too, a strange hush following you wherever you go, your fellow students going out of their way to avoid jostling you when you have move classrooms between lessons. There is one constant in all of this, and you’re starting to wonder if he might somehow be responsible for it. Subaru Sakamaki, despite the prestige of his father’s name, has the air of someone who’s had a difficult life. You’d decided to make an effort to be kind to him when you’d first noticed it, not necessarily going out of your way to hunt him down, but to grant him a little more patience and understanding than you might normally. He’s currently the only person who hasn’t started acting like you’ve contracted some horrible contagious disease, but you do catch him looking at you strangely sometimes. The moment he notices and immediately turns away are the few occasions you no longer feel watched. His expression in those moments is a bit like someone caught between wanting something but feeling conflicted over whether or not they should have it. And for some reason, the thought that he may eventually make up his mind fills you with nothing but dread.

Ruki

You’re being difficult again. It’s not that Ruki had believed you were past this stage—far from it in fact—but he had thought the punishment you’d received in your last session with him might have at least served as a temporary reminder to not push his limits again so soon. He knows the wounds have yet to properly heal from the faint trace of your blood that blossoms in the air whenever you move in a way that strains the skin of your back—and yet still you insist on running your mouth. Ruki regards you coldly for a moment. Back when he’d first met you, he might have mistaken the look on your face for defiance, but now he takes note of how brightly your eyes shine, the faint tremble of your lower lip. You’re lashing out because you’re afraid, like a cornered animal that hasn’t yet learnt not to bite the hand that feeds. He closes his book and places it to the side, not missing the way you try to hide your flinch as he stands up. There need to be consequences for this type of behaviour, there’s no point in putting this much effort into your training if not, but rather feeling annoyed, Ruki finds himself almost pleased at the prospect. For as much as your insolence grinds, there’s something about the way your tough façade breaks almost as soon as he gets started—and in the way you fall apart under his hands with the sting of antiseptic that follows. You cling to him sometimes, half delirious with pain, and it’s those moments he finds he savours the most.

Kou

Kou chuckles as you cling onto his arm, still unused to the heels he’d forced you into before you left the mansion. It’s honestly pretty cute, although not as cute as the way you keep glancing around anxiously, convinced that at any moment now his fans will appear around the corner and start baying for your blood. That same fear, however, is the only reason you’re here in the first place—his demand in return for not posting staged pictures of the two of you tangled together online. You’re actually doing pretty well all things considered, you even manage to flash him a wobbling smile when he tells you about the café he’s taking you to. Kou can’t quite decide what he likes most about about your little arrangement—that you’ve gotten good enough at acting that he can almost pretend you’re on a date with him because you want to be, or that the scent of your fear in the air tells him is doesn’t really matter because he has you right in the palm of his hand. 

Yuma

Yuma’s used to people being intimidated by him. If not for his stature, and it usually is, then the way he speaks is often enough to set those around him slightly on edge. Not you though. No, the first time you meet, you look him dead in the eye without a hint of any sort of fear in your face. It’s not a judging look either, more of an assessment, that you realize he is used to being one of the biggest people in the room but that will carry no weight with you. It feels more like a challenge than anything else, and he feels the tips of one of fangs peek out from where the corner of his lip curls into a smirk. You never show fear when you look at him in any of your subsequent meetings either, even when you really should—like now, when he’s keeping your hands secured above your head with only the sheer weight of him. You're not stupid enough to put up a real fight, not when you can already feel the strain on your bones from his grip, but you are stubborn. And the defiance in your face even when you’re pinned helplessly just makes your blood taste all the sweeter for it.

Azusa

It had been an accident, the first time you’d pushed him down the stairs. You’d been in a rush, running late to one of your classes, when you’d tripped over your own feet, the hand you threw out to steady yourself slamming into the back of someone you hadn’t realized was there. All you could do was watch with a look of horror as the figure lost their balance and fell right down the otherwise abandoned stairwell. Perhaps you should have registered there was something wrong then, when instead of crying or getting angry at you or having any sort of normal response to being shoved down a set of stairs, Azusa—as you’d later come to find out his name was—had simply sat up and stared up at you like you were some kind of god. The second time you’d pushed Azusa down the stairs was less of an accident. He hadn’t left you alone after the first unfortunate incident and no amount of apologizing or promises it wouldn’t happen again were enough to get rid of him. One day, he’d managed to corner you after the ring of the final bell, standing so close you could feel an eerie coldness emanating from his body, and you felt the final threads of your patience snap. In truth, you hadn’t registered how close you were to those wretched stairs—too focused on the primitive part of your brain that screamed to get away from the strange boy—and thus, the quick short shove you gave him was enough to send him tumbling a second time. You’d stood there, frozen, as he slowly sat up, a rivulet of blood trailing down his face from where he must have knocked his head on the way down. And yet the injury was not the most appalling part of the scene. No, that right was reserved for the look of pure adoration in his eyes, directed straight at you.

Carla

You’re too kind for your own good. It’s something Carla’s become painfully aware of over the months he’s known you. At first he’d believed you were simply frightened by him, acting on his wishes to avoid his wrath as so many others had done in the past. But he’s familiar with the scent of your fear now and it is not fear you feel when you check on him after hearing the Endzeit-induced coughs from his room or when you make dishes with cured ham for him after he let slip that he was fond of it. It is a weakness, he thinks, but one he could perhaps tolerate if simply reserved for him. It is not however, anyone who crosses your path is greeted with your good nature and it eats at Carla’s insides far more than the disease rotting his blood. He is the Founder King, he should be able to have what he wants. And he will have you, all of you, so that no one else ever will.

Shin

Shin knows you like him, at least, he’s nearly certain of it. Because despite the hell he’d put you through after you first met, you’d still ended up hanging around him. The once fear-filled look on face whenever you saw him slowly becoming resigned until, at some point, your gaze had started to turn heated. For Shin’s part, you’d only been a bit of idle amusement at first, someone to terrorize whenever the frustration of his and Carla’s situation got to be too much. Eventually, however, your interactions had gone from being a way to pass the time to something he looked forward to; a wolf anticipating a meal. It was the first time he’d noticed the look of want in your eyes that he’d started to feel the same. So then why? If you want him, why does he never quite feel like he has you? His initial conclusion had been that it was something to do with Carla, that you were trying to pull one over on him to cosy up to the Founder King. But no amount of stalking from you from the shadows or checking on your scent every time he saw you had revealed that anything was going on between the two of you. If anything, you actively avoid his brother—Shin’s only ever seen you in the same room together when he himself is present. Perhaps you’re still hung up on how your relationship started, some part of you yet to forgive him for all the things he did to you. Or maybe, you’re doing it on purpose. After all, you’ve seen enough of his wolf form to know that when something runs away, there’s always an instinctive drive to chase.

Kino

Kino makes it seem like a coincidence when he runs into you outside of the local games arcade. You have no need to know he’d seen your social media post featuring a photo of a popular new café, the one opposite the shop he’d lingered in, waiting to stage this particular encounter. He’s done it a couple of times now—pulling at the strings attached to you to arrange these chance meetings. A couple of months ago he could never have imagined putting this much effort into a single human, especially one who wasn’t the Vampire Lord’s chosen Eve, but now it's turned into a game of sorts—to what degree can he entangle you in this web before you start to notice. It’s going well so far, you think him a simple classmate who’s a regular in the area—you’ve even given him your ID for a couple of the games you have on your phone. Tonight’s looking to be a lot of fun too. In just a couple of minutes, the friend you’d been hanging out with will get a call from their mother who should have just received a selection of pictures showing her precious darling skipping the cram school she paid oh so much money for. The friend will likely get called home—a shame, Kino will say, with a smile on his lips, but there’s no reason he and you can’t still have some fun before the night is over.

Karlheinz

Under any other circumstances, the scene before you would have had you swooning. A meal not out of place in a Michelin star restaurant laid out beautifully before you on top of an intricately carved antique table with possibly the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on seated at the opposite end to you, swirling a glass full of a rich, red liquid. The view out of the floor to ceiling windows is spectacular, a sky full of stars and a view of the forest and various small towns far below. Except these are not other circumstances, and the man who sits, watching you carefully as you cut into your food is none other than the Vampire King himself—and you are quite certain that it’s not wine that sits in his cup. The view is no comfort either, not when you know you are looking out over the demon world, a place that you’re sure would be quite hostile to you if not for the protection of the man keeping you here. Not that you’d gotten any real chance to see it save for the view from the castle you hadn’t left once in the months since you’d arrived here. You tell if the complete lack of any sort of guard makes you feel better or worse, on one hand at least you’re not followed everywhere, but on the other hand, the fact Karlheinz is powerful enough to keep you here without them makes the odds of escape seem slim. 

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAu - A Step Forwards

I am back! And After some thinking I have decided how I wanted this drabble to go :3

We are back with a Dream centered one <3 Boy is going through a lot.

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

No beta or edits <3

@spotaus welcome back :3

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Dream wants to cry again as he looks around the very empty and abandoned living room.

So many things just.. left behind.

Cabinets full of movies and games and all kinds of different game consoles, some very exclusive versions from other universes.

Dream rubs another tear away as he looks around. The pictures on the walls also hurt. They are all of the gang and a few of them has Nightmare in the background. Looking confused with his skull slightly tilted. Killer is often the one who clearly took the picture selfie style.

Dream pauses at another picture. It is Nightmare but he is reading. Clearly distracted. He is sitting on a large chair, tentacles just laying all over the surface of the chair. Nightmare fully distracted as he reads a book while sitting cross legged on it.

Dream remembers that Ngihtmare would always sit cross legged. Spine in a curve as the read.

He had once asked how that could be comfortable. Nightmare had just said it felt nice...

One day he stopped sitting with his spine curved and instead would lean heavily against their mother.

Dream slowly removes the picture from the wall and hugs it close. How could he not have seen that his brother was still there? Just within reach? But Dream had once again not seen it...

A hand on his shoulder shakes him out of it and Blue looks worried at him "Dream?"

Dream leans against Blue "How can I just... not notice? Be so blind and stupid and..."

Blue frowns at him "Dream..."

Dream stares at him "Why didn't I just listen?" No wonder Nightmare left as soon as he could... With them no longer being gods of balance... Nightmare is actually free to do whatever he wants... Why did Dream think Nightmare would still want to be near him after everything?

Blue frowns at him "Becuase you believed it was the right thing to do."

Dream glares down "That is the problem isn't it? That is always what happens. I thought heloing the villagers was the right thing to do but ti wasn't. I thought spreading positivity was the right thing to do but it wasn't. I thought that Nightmare needed help and changing him was the right thing to do. And guess what?! IT wasn't!"

Blue just keeps looking at him "You were a child."

Drema shoots him a glare but Blue continues "You were a child. A child who had a mother who was, I am gonna be honest here, not a good person."

Drema feels bad as he shakes his skull but Blue holds up a hand "Dream. I read that book. I can see the clear favouritism a mile away. But that? That isn't your fault. The way the villagers acted? Wasn't your fault. You were a child. A child who trusted his mother. Who trusted those who were nice to him because why wouldn't you? Why would you think someone would hurt your brother? That idea probably hadn't even come to mind as even a possibility."

Dream glares at the ground and hugs the picture closer "And what about me making the disbalance worse? Me acting as if i knew better when i didn't know anything? When i didn't even realise what my actual title was?"

Blue tilts his skull "Well... who taught you those things?"

Dream opens his mouth "That woman who broke me out of stone and lied- ... oh..."

Blue just smiles sadly "You were surrounded by people who used you for their own needs and wishes Dream... People who hated your brother for no real reason... I am not surprised those some people would tell you lies and poison your ideas on how stuff works."

Dream shakes as he leans against his friend, his best friend. Maybe his one true friend in the multiverse. Mostly as he doubts Nightmare ever wants to be friends again.

Blue rubs his shoulder "She raised you right?"

Dream gives a slow nod "broke out of stone the same way i was when i went in... She got me out and... well... raised me... made sure i trained and would keep repeating how nightmare had caused all the pain adn that they had always known it would happen..." That Dream shoudl ahve stopped Nightmare sooner. that Dream's lack of worry and saying that Nightmare wasn't that bad caused the pain. That it made Nightmare able to destroy their home.

... okay Dream is starting to think Blue may have a point on this.

Blue looks at him "What now?"

Dream stares at him "What?"

Blue gives him a look "You need to make a choice Dream. Because from the looks of this?" he waves around "The gang has moved ages ago. THe fact we haven't heard about any raids or any sus things? They are probably doing something else. Nightmare must have figured out he was successfull in rebalancing the balance and decided to leave it behind."

It only stings a little to hear that. But Blue is right. It had been Nightmare who rebalanced everything. They had seen his office. Files upon files and reports upon reports and so many schedules... all to keep track of the tiny shifts in balance.

Drema had just been running around the Omega universe and doing chores to help people...

Blue continues looking at him "What do you want to do now? Do you want to continue looking for Nightmare?"

Dream does want to continue looking for Nightmare but... He looks around again. Sees the home that had been made... A home for his brother... a home he hadn't been welcome in.

Dream looks at Blue and thinks "I want... I want to see him again... But I don't think he wants to see me..." he looks at the many pictures. and then to the crown they had found tugged away in a drawer "I don't... I don't think he even knows I love him... And that is on me... Even if other stuff isn't completely my fault that is my fault." his failing as a brother. As older twin.

Blue puts an arm tighter around him.

Dream looks at the picture in his hands. the one he is already planning on stealing and keeping for himself "I made a mess of so many things... And when he tried to explain I let lies others told me get to me instead of being brave and trying to understand... I made everything so much harder." he looks at Blue "I want to fix that first..."

Blue frowns "You mean...."

Dream nods "I am going to tell the council. Explain that I had been wrong."

Blue stares at him before smiling brightly "I will be there with you! I am so proud of you Dream!"

Dream smiles as he looks around the cold room. They will do one more search around this place. Look for anythings that Dream can keep save in case Nightmare wants them back... and maybe, like this picture and the crown, a few things that Dream wants to keep.

--

Dream set up the council to enable more universes to talk and interact. To help each other and to spread messages in case of emergancies.

Turns out that hadn't been the best idea.

Well!

At elast this way this should spread quickly!

Dream waits nervously before shooting Blue a look. Blue sees him look and smiles as he gives him the thumbs up.

Dream takes one more look around the table and is happy to note that Error and Ink are both here as well. This is good! Their truce will help set everything to be calm!

Dream rises to his feet and the group quiets. It is okay. He practised this. He smiles brightly "Hello everyone. Thank you for coming this quickly. I know it was shot notice."

Some mutters and someone asked if Nightmare did something again. Error huffs but remains quiet. Ink shoots him a curious look but Error jsut flips him off. Clearly a familiar interaction between them.

Dream takes a deap breath before speaking up "It is connected to my brother yes. Mostly. The balance has been restored."

Silence and Error actually sits upright.

Some mutters and someone congradulates him for his hard work.

Dream shakes his skull "You misunderstand. There is a balance between everything. including emotions. I may hav ebeen spreading positive emotions but All I was doing was unbalancing things. I was making the problem worse. For this I am sorry and we are very lucky my brother did know what he was doing and fixed my mess."

Silence before someone asks how him bringing happiness could be a bad thing.

Dream shoots them an annoyed look "Go you want to laugh and cheer the next time your human kills your brother?"

A long silence.

Dream huffs "That is the start what a multiverse without negativity would cause. I did not realise before I was making it worse and I apologise."

Some uneasiness around them as someone asks the question that most are not asking. If that means that what the gang had been doing had actually been helping the multiverse at large.

Dream nods "It was. And now we are talking about it. I was never a god of positivity. I was a god of balance who very much misunderstood his job." then lastly "Not that it matters anymore. With the balance restored I am no longer a god of balance. I will eventually get, pick or find a new calling but it won't be emotions again." fuck he hopes it isn't emotions again.

Some people keep trying to ask if they really need negativity and can't just get like a negative corner or the bare minimum.

Error grows annoyed and speaks up "This si why this shit is useless. It is like destruction and creation. Like life and death. YOu want your world to get overpopulated until you can't make enough food and everyone will starve? That is a world wihtout natural death. You want the multiverse to get so full with half finished and glitching universes? That is what happens when ou want destroy stuff and do clean up. You want to laugh manically when someone you love dies? That is what happens when you don't have negativity. It isn't that hard to understand." Error sees that everyone heard and lays back down.

Dream shoots him a smile but Error jsut continues to glare at him. Right. Error nad Nightmare had been friends. Dream turns back to the group "Error is right. THis is bigger than one of two universes. This is bigger than all of our worlds combined. But foremost it is important that everyone knows that my brother was never the villain."

Some people try to go against it but Dream just keeps repeating the same message. His brother is the reason things are stable and everyone can still feel normally. He is the reason the balance is fixed. He wasn't the villain.

And he will repeat it as many times as needed until the message sticks.

*------------------------*

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[miguelsslvt]

miguel o'hara x goth girl! spider! reader smut drabble

word count: 756

TW: nsfw, smut, overstimulation, y/n gets fucked dumb, creampie, fingering, spanish translated from google translate so it isn't very good i'm so sorry. and also it isn't exactly stated that y/n is 'goth', it's literally just heer style and i hate it sm that i write it like that i'm so sorry.

A/N: so basically i got requested to do a college au! goth girl x reader but i didn’t read the ‘college’ bit and i got a bit carried away so… here’s the shitty goth spider! reader whilst i try writing the college au!! anyways two posts in one night?? ahh! this is severely unedited and not even proofread, so i hope i did okay! i can always rewrite if you don't like it:). also i love doing requests so much, so pls give me more! welcome to the club! ^^

you were a smart girl. well, smart enough to notice the looks miguel gave you everytime you walked around spider society wearing your favourite black dress and fishnets. and you would be lying to yourself if you said the attention didn't make your legs tighten in anticipation.

you had your eyes on miguel since the first time you laid eyes on him when he recruited you. was it your everlasting hunger for male validation? maybe. was it the way his fingers flicked through tab to tab on his platform? most likely. was it the hunger you noticed in his eyes when he trailed his eyes along your figure? absolutely. that's why on the day you were supposed to come to miguel for 'monthly anomaly reports', you made sure to wear the short black skirt and fishnets you knew that would miguel drool. what? just because you were pretty didn't mean you were stupid.

after a beautiful walk around the graveyard near your home, placing some flowers on some empty graves, you decided to go back to the spider HQ, playing your favourite band, 'bauhaus'.

'spider goth. miguel would like you in his office.' your watch alarmed, as your smiled at lyla, nodding. before you walked into the office room, you made sure to fix your eyeliner so it didn't look too 'smoky' but smoky enough. you fixed your silver necklaces in place, as you walked in. 'yes miguel?'

fuck, that voice. miguel thought. he turned around slightly to take in your body. god, he could feel his dick twitch from just the sight of you. was it even normal to feel this way? 'sir? you seem a little.. distracted.' you said, tilting your head slightly. he smirked. if miguel was completely honest, he knew you knew how he felt about you. and the fact that you still continue to wear such provocative clothing around him, and the fact that you always give him that 'innocent' smile of yours was enough for him to know you enjoyed the attention.

'oh i think we both know why i'm distracted, spider goth-' 'y/n.' you cut him off. he seemed a bit taken aback. 'excuse me?' he asked. 'for you, it's y/n, sir.' you replied, walking up to his platform, your skirt riding up slightly as you sat on his desk.

god, he could take you right there. so he did.

✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩

'm-miguel!~' you moaned, eyes rolling back as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. your back was arched against the desk, as his hands held your hips roughly. your eyeliner and makeup was ruined, all over your cheeks as they were filled with tears. your fishnets were ruined, as your skirt was hitched up just above your ass, as miguel groaned in relief.

'god you don't know how long i've wanted this.. mi niña bonita~' he cooed, smirking as you gasped for air, holding onto the desk. (my pretty girl)

you had lost count on how many times miguel made you cum in just one hour, but right now you couldn't care. your legs were numb, mind was fuzzy and you could swear you were seeing stars. you fucked out dizzy expression urged miguel further, chasing both of your highs.

'g-god m-miguel g-gonna c-cum again..!' you moaned loudly, as miguel leaned closer to your ear, moving your jaw so he could see your dumb face.

you were drooling, crying, your hair and makeup was a mess. and mguel didn't think you could get any more prettier then this. god, and the way you clenched and gaped around him made him cum almost instantly. but he would wait. 'cum for me, that's it.. jodido tan tonto que ni siquiera puedes pensar, ¿verdad?' he teased, as he thrusts became sloppy once again. (fucked so dumb you can't even think, right?)

you reached you peak, letting out a loud gasp, as miguel held your jaw,his nose in your neck as he whispered to you. 'thaat's it.. that's my girl.. there you go..' he praised, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible as he let his load in you.

it was alot, as you came down from your high, panting for air. miguel groaned as he pulled out, leaving a string of his cum and your juices out. he just let a deep breath, tutting. 'ay.. no.. mi dulce chica.. you're supposed you keep it inside. looks like i'm gonna have to plug it back in.' miguel said, sticking his finger inside you, making you squeal in overstimulation. (my sweet girl)

'let's take care of the mess you made, yeah?' he cooed, as you nodded mindlessly. there was one thing miguel will never admit, though.

and that's miguel likes it messy.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎

[moonlightndaydreams]

Changbin; the ever present lover, holds your hand while eating you out

Binnie the 'dark rapper' is a big softy in real life. Especially when it comes to you.

I've said it before, but Binnie gives you his full attention when it comes to pleasure. Your pleasure brings him pleasure. He keeps an attentive close eye on how you're responding to his touch. He notices when you exhale and completely relax when you're snuggling on the couch, or the way your breath hitches when he pulls your hips to his when you're kissing.

He knows when you're ready to be fucked, never wanting to push into you until he knows you're absolutely wet and ready for him. Sometimes, when he's feeling playful, he likes to tease you with the tip. He'll just rub his cockhead through your folds, threaten to put in in, then slide on up to your clit.

When he finally squeezes his thickness into you, he watches your facial expressions. Fuck, he loves the way your eyes squeeze tight, and the low groan that tells him you're relieved he's finally where he belongs - inside you.

Look, I love the whole free use, 3racaha universe I go on and on about, but Binnie really likes one on one action. Whether you're fucking the others, or you're solely his, when he's with you he makes it his duty that he's fully satisfied you. He makes sure that you can't remember any name but his.

One of the most swoonworthy things he does is hold your hand while he eats you out. Whether you're on your back with his face between your legs, or his other favourite - sitting on his face, his hand always finds yours. He does it because he loves connection. He does it to help you stay present. He needs you to know he's right there with you, he's "got you'. He knows he sends you soaring through the stars with the way his lips suck at you clit, and how his tongue squeezes into your tight cunt. He takes his sweet time with you, but at the same time he's so relentless.

To be honest, holding your hand also keep him grounded too. The way your arousal covers his lips, nose, even chin, drives him wild. The taste of your essence has him leaking in his boxers. The pretty sounds you make spur him on, making him want to bring you to orgasm over an over until you pass out.

a/n: i've been meaning to write a few hard thoughts / drabbles on sweet sweet Binnie. My mind is also working on a Binnie oneshot as well.

@itsseohannbin @rixenluv @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut

[the-autistic-vulcan]

Intrigue (Thranduil x F!Reader) @lemonivall

Description: You've always been the wallflower, but he's bothered to notice you

Genre: Fluff

a/n: reader is implied an elf; (e/c) means eye colour; this turned out more like a drabble than a fic (oops)

Your marriage to Thranduil had always been a mystery to you, mainly for the mere fact he chose you.

You, were always subdued and kept to yourself, not engaging in many social exchanges or really getting that much attention and fading into the background. That was until he showed up in your life. He was intrigued by your quiet nature and decided to strike up a conversation with you one night at some gathering he didn't wish to go to.

To be completely honest, you thought he was just there to make it all the more apparent that you were quiet.

But no...he wanted to.

Several years later, after much courting, you married...but, you were still awfully confused of the matter. You sat through the entire after party, sitting in a seat away from all of the chaos and loudness of the party to think everything over.

Why me? You thought, why of all elves did he choose me? You knew you had to talk to him about it...but when?

~ Time Skip ~

It was now your first night together as husband and wife - you were left laying on a, quite literal, Queen-sized bed, silk sheets were soft to the touch, the pillows were perfectly puffed up and the room was dimly lit with your favourite scented candles. You were clad in a beautiful satin nightdress, Thranduil laid with you, kissing up and down your arm with so much love and yearning.

"You look divine, meleth nin." He says between kisses, he makes his way up to your shoulder, then to your neck. He is about to approach your lips when you place a hand over his mouth.

You sit up and turn to face him.

"What's the matter, my queen? Do you not like this?" He asked, his brows furrowed in a concerned manner.

"No, it's not that I don't like it...I just...I don't know." you answer.

He takes his hand and grazes his knuckles on your cheek in a caressing motion. "You can tell me anything, dearest. Anything at all."

You sigh, then finally, you realise you just have to spit it out.

"Why did you choose me?"

He stops and just stares at you, his icy blue eyes piercing into your curious (e/c) ones. He sighs and places your hands in his.

"Why did I choose you? Let's see...you are intriguing to me. Your sociability was not the thing that intrigued me about you, but it was your kind nature once I spoke to you. Your beauty is beyond compare than most I've seen, and your mere presence alone calms me and centres me greatly. Why I chose you is obvious...you intrigue me, meleth nin. I couldn't choose anyone else but you."

You couldn't help but smile, he meant a lot to you, that's a given, but the fact you mean that much to him meant the world.

"...I didn't think I'd mean that much."

"If you didn't, we wouldn't be in this bed together, would we?" he laughed, earning a chuckle from you. "Now, why don't we continue, that is if you want."

Rest assured, the night was filled with the same passion as his words were. You didn't get a lot of attention, but this changed everything.

[drabblesandimagines]

Drabbles

I'm poorly and is it really so much to ask for either Leon, or Clive, or Halsin or Gale to come look after me? 🤒

-

Halsin would be great at it as a healer by trade. Rest is what he prescribes most, but he knows all of nature's remedies that will help ease any ailments you are suffering with. The more bitter-tasting ones he tries to sweeten with only the finest honest for his beloved - he hates when you grimace, only ever wants to bring a smile to your face.

He stays by your side, catering to your every whim, regaling you with stories from his youth when you don't want to sleep. Sometimes he'll sit you in his lap, cheek pressed against his chest and the vibrations of his dulcet tones, as well as kisses to your crown lull you to sleep.

--

Gale I kinda picture sending his mirror image to be at your side with pre-set comforting words, even using mage hand to bring you things from a safe distance, especially when he's still got the orb.

You: "It's just a cold, Gale. I'm only sneezing."

Gale: "My darling, what is to you a simple sneeze for me could literally be a city-levelling event!"

Once he deems you no longer a threat, he dotes on you for days after to make up for the absence of his physical touch.

And, of course, you have no qualms of milking it for weeks after.

--

Clive would fuss over you like a mother hen, running himself ragged fetching you whatever you needed, forgoing sleep in case you need him - despite Tarja'e repeated assurances that you would be just fine after a few days of rest.

Someone mentions a rare bloom the other side of Valisthea that will ease your sore throat? He's off to fetch it at once (the Cursebreakers offer but he will hear none of it), and even though you are recovered by the time of his return, he has made sure to bring enough to sow in the Backyard for future patients.

Him being one of them, of course, after running himself down to the point of exhaustion, but you return the favour of staying by his side - it is rare for him to be in one place for so long, after all.

--

Kinda alluded to this in a fic, but if Leon had just returned from a mission containing anything to do with viruses and you mention you don't feel good, he's immediately pulling in the strings to make sure he's not contaminated you somehow.

After it's confirmed everything is fine, he is in his element. Leon likes to have an assignment to keep his mind occupied and nursing you back to health is of top priority. He orders all sorts of soups from your favourite deli, making sure you dutifully take your medicine and stay hydrated, all whilst cuddling up with you in bed inbetween.

When you warn him that he'll get sick, he scoffs. Says he's had enough viruses in his bloodstream over the years not to be afraid of the common cold.