#☆.⠀⠀⠀I know forever is asking too much but what if this moment is all that we've got⠀⠀⠀⎯⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀(⠀blxdc !⠀)

[hxnbi]

⸻ ღ ❝ WHAT IF I... ❞

you pop the question, asking him, “what if i disappeared one day?" his reaction?

ft. hayato suo, yamato endo, choji tomiyama, umemiya hajime, ren kaji, haruka sakura, kyotaro sugishita, jo togame x gn. reader (separate)

ღ HAYATO SUO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

He tilts his head to the side. "Whatever do you mean by that?" A brief flash of confusion crossed SUO's face before the ever-present smile of his returned.

"I mean, like, what if I just, from out of nowhere, went poof one day? What would you do?" you clarified with a smile. 

You couldn't quite figure out what was going through his mind as he let out a pensive hum, his index finger rhythmically tapping against his cheek, appearing to be in a deep moment of thought. Granted, you never did know what Suo is thinking about, something appeared to be different this time.

Suo knew that the question you asked was a mere hypothetical, similar to the ones where you'd find on random scenarios online—meant to be a casual inquiry intended to gauge his reaction, so he didn't give it much concern.

"Well then, if that's the case, as your boyfriend." He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "It's only right for me to find you and make sure you’re safe, isn't it?" 

He says it so matter-of-factly with a hefty amount of confidence that undoubtedly makes your heart flutter. There's no hesitation, no doubt in his voice, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. But the outside is indeed never what it appears to be, but also what can be the most deceiving. Suo doesn't worry too much about your question upfront, but there would be times when his mind would wander, drifting back to that single conversation that haunted his thoughts. What implored you to ever ask him that? 

And so, over the next few weeks, Suo would watch you with even more attentiveness than he already did, which was already considerable. Being by your side meant everything to him, and he couldn't imagine life without you if that were to ever ring true. After a few days of thinking, Suo's answer has not changed and will never change, but the realm of possibility that you might disappear will forever linger in his mind.

ღ YAMATO ENDO ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

ENDO, with his piercing, sweatdropping gaze, doesn't even take a minute to look at you, and, instead, at himself. Not in the literal sense, but inwardly. He scrutinizes his every action, every word, trying to decipher what could have prompted such a question from you.

"Disappear?" he asks with a tone of sharp curiosity as he finally meets your nervous gaze. "Is that what you really want?"

Cupping his chin, all with the expression that he's about to beat someone half to death, Endo takes a quiet moment to himself and thinks about your question more thoroughly, which only makes you more anxious, in all honesty. 

With a sheepish laugh, you attempted to steer the conversation to a different subject, but Endo was having none of it. His intense focus was right then and there for you to answer.

Endo sits back down, covering his face with his calloused hand, letting out a low chuckle, "You must be either naive or plain stupid if you ever think that's going to happen on my watch.”

"H-Huh?"

"Because you're never leaving me." Endo’s voice carries utter conviction, a lifelong promise wrapped in a singular statement.

Endo snickers a bit from your seemingly adorable reaction before fading into an expression of distaste. His eyes bore into yours, filled with an emotion you can't quite place. "I don't know what brought this on, but let me make one thing clear. You're not going anywhere. Not without me."

He reaches out, his hand finding yours, gripping it firmly. You can feel the roughness of his skin, the callousness from all his previous fights, the strength in his hold, and it grounds you. A chuckle escapes him as he leans back, the seriousness melting away as a mischievous grin spreads across his face from ear to ear. "Besides, who else is going to put up with your atrocious cooking?"

ღ CHOJI TOMIYAMA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

CHOJI takes a moment to think. "Hmmm, well then. I'll just find you again! Simple and easy! Don’t you think?!”

You laugh alongside him, not having the heart to continue the conversation. But unbeknownst to you, Choji's light-hearted response hides a deeper concern. Choji may act childish, but he's not stupid. He knows that he's not perfect, and in fact, he's a very flawed human being who has done far more harm than he'd ever like to admit, and certainly not to his lover…

Thus, throughout the day, you would be subjected to Choji clinging onto you. Whether you like it or not, he becomes your shadow, sticking to you like glue. As for bathroom breaks? Well, sucks to be you, that's not going to happen without him hovering nearby like a mosquito.

You knew what this meant. Choji's playful manner masks the underlying fear of losing you, and he doesn't let you out of his sight. Whether it's following you to the kitchen or tagging along to every errand, Choji's constant presence lingering over your every move is both endearing and slightly overwhelming. He jokes and laughs, trying to keep the mood light, but you can see the worry in his eyes whenever he thinks you're not looking. It's clear that the thought of being without you is something he can't bear. Just thinking about how his life would be if you left was enough of a nightmare that he decides that possibility would never be considered.

Choji's answer remains constant, but don't let that distract you, his words are only the half of it. He'll never let you go, not on his watch.

ღ HAJIME UMEMIYA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

UMEMIYA is immediately alarmed by your question, pausing right in the midst of caring for his plants to turn to you with a rather distressed frown that deepened with every second. He jumps to grab your arm, perhaps in fear of you leaving right then and there, and asks with a nervous laugh, "Ahah… you're joking, right?” Was this supposed to be some kind of dare from Hiragi or Tsubaki?

And his grip will not loosen until you tell him the details, tenfold. Unlike the usual energetic demeanour he broadcasts to the world, Umemiya doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's worried, scared, with all but the absolute worst scenarios surfacing in his mind. Were you being threatened in some way because of him?

On the surface, he knows that you asked that question in a hypothetical sense, but that doesn't lessen his fear that it could happen, and your bringing it up helped trigger it. His past memories come right back to haunt him again.

And without thinking, Umemiya embraces you in a bone-crushing hug. "I-I don't know what prompted you to say that. Please… Hit me, get mad at me, yell at me, but please, don't ever leave me."

His grip tightens around you, desperation evident in the way he clings to you as if you might vanish at any moment. You can feel the tremor in his hands, the rapid beat of his heart against your ear. It breaks your heart to see him like this, so vulnerable and afraid. You gently stroked his back, whispering soothing words to calm his frayed nerves. Slowly, his breathing steadies, and he relaxes a bit in your arms, but the fear in his eyes still remains. It's clear that the thought of losing you terrifies him more than anything else.

His mind races, no, refuses to accept the thought of you ever disappearing from him. His answer was clear. He was never going to let that happen, not without a reason for closure. And so, Umemiya's efforts to spend more time with you would only be further amplified from there. 

Waking up in the morning? Umemiya would be out your door soon enough with a bed-in-breakfast. Getting groceries? Umemiya will once again be there to be your personal bag-handler and bodyguard. You'd have to reassure him plenty in order to convince him that nobody is out to get you and that you aren’t in danger by any means. But even then, that was not going to work either, oh no. 

As the leader of Furin, Umemiya would make sure that you were protected at all times, sending only the best and closest friends to watch over you and make sure that you were safe. Sakura would snort and mutter under his breath that "that guy is overdoing it," only to receive a stern look from Nirei and a withering glare from Hiragi and especially, if in the presence of the man himself, Umemiya.

How on earth could you tell him by that point that it was all a joke…?

ღ REN KAJI ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Admittedly, KAJI does not think much of it as he continues to listen to his music with your head resting comfortably on his lap. What do you mean you're just going to leave? Without him? Impossible. 

He hums before going back to indulging his lollipop, which, by all means, was his solace. But later on, Kaji's mind drifts back to the question you asked. His eyebrows fold into two thinly knitted lines as he processes what could ever be your reasoning for asking such a thing. Not even the most relaxing of music could calm his mind as he begins to overthink every little detail of your relationship, replaying every conversation, every moment you've shared, searching for clues or hints he might have missed that made you want to think that.

The thought of you leaving gnaws at him—a rather unsettling and even unfamiliar feeling that he can't shake off no matter how hard he tries. Kaji debates with himself whether to bring it up with you again or let it slide, not wanting to seem insecure but also desperate for reassurance and that what he heard wasn't actually true.

His heart races with each passing thought, and he finds himself pacing back and forth while outside your homeschool, trying to make sense of his swirling emotions. That is, until you ask him with a confused frown what he was doing.

He doesn't wait for a response but instead pulls you straight into his arms. Kaji grabs both your shoulders and apologizes. He stares right into your wide eyes, and he finally confesses, "If you disappeared… then I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Kaji gulps in the air like someone who's drowned. He hardly even knew what to do with himself, just pondering the answer about a mere possibility. If that ever came to fruition, he'd be utterly lost. Though he guards his heart carefully, he's unrestrained with his body, whether for comfort or for pleasure.

He holds you firmly. Implacably. He will hold you all night if needs must, and throughout the day. His grip shifts to a tight hug as if trying to squeeze out all the sadness with his strong arms. "So please, don't."

With a heartfelt sigh, the tightness in your shoulders relaxed and you caressed his back with a gentle hand, all while comforting with your voice—the same voice Kaji grew to love with all his heart.

ღ HARUKA SAKURA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Rolls his eyes. "What do you mean you're just going to disappear?" SAKURA clicks his tongue. "As if that's ever going to happen."

But in reality, despite his outward words, Sakura is far more concerned than he initially lets on. His composure can only stretch so far until he loses it. Quite literally. He may put on a brave face, but the thought of you vanishing haunts him. He starts by subtly interrogating your friends, your family, and anyone who might know something. His questions are cloaked in casual conversation—well, as casual as Sakura thinks—but the urgency in his eyes betrays his true feelings.

He becomes much more protective from then on, always by your side, watching you with a worried gaze that he often tries to mask. But you, in fact, do notice the change, the way Sakura hovers a little closer to you when he's, without exception, extremely volatile to physical touch, his touches lingering a little longer, and his blatant need for confirmation that you're not going to leave. 

Until, one day, out of nowhere, Sakura answered the question. "If you leave… then I won't stop until I find you. That's it," he muttered in a voice so low that you could hardly believe it, your eyes widening in surprise.

"Haru, could you say that again?" you asked, voice trembling with emotion.

“Huh?”

“Just now, could you repeat it?”

Sakura grumbled, scrunching his flushed crimson face into a grimace. "Y-You idiot!! I already said it!!!"

"But I want to hear it again…" you pouted, feigning sadness, making Sakura blush even further, his ears a deep crimson.

"Tch… I'm just telling you, if you disappear one day, I'm just going to find you, and I'll keep trying until I do."

ღ KYOTARO SUGISHITA ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

SUGISHITA is eerily silent. Usually, that wouldn't be as much cause for concern, but there was something different in Sugishita's expression that unnerved you. Disappearing? That was a joke, right? No… you probably meant something else. You did mention that you planned to go out to buy groceries later that week. Could it be because of that? Or perhaps…

Sugishita, in his inward panic, grabs your arm with a grip tight enough to completely cut off the blood circulation to the rest of your body. "You're… going to leave? How? …When? W-Why?"

You could see that Sugishita was becoming increasingly anxious, his mind seeming to be practically in another dimension. With a pat on his head, you reassure him that you meant it all as a hypothetical question and that you aren't going to leave by any means. But the damage had been done. Sugishita, being the worrywart, needed far more confirmation than just that.

And just like Choji, for the next few days, Sugishita would be watching your moves like a hawk, standing at your side, towering over you. His eyes follow your every move. His piercing eyes staring into your soul felt almost suffocating, but it was clear that he couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even for a single moment.

Umemiya, with his usual bravado, burst out into laughter as he claps Sugishita's flushed cheeks repeatedly, reassuring him once more that it was nothing but a mere misunderstanding and a curiosity for his answer on his part. Hiragi agreed, nodding his head along.

Nonsense, Sugishita thinks with a wry face. He will be the one to ensure your safety, replaced by a type of intensity that makes you feel, while protected, also slightly on edge with the burning stare that he insists on maintaining to keep watch, even when you shoo him away.

You knew that his actions came from a place of love from when you initially asked him that question, but even so, did you really need him to stand outside your classroom door…?

ღ JO TOGAME ─ ❀ °. ⁺ ♡

Your words would kick his mind into gear almost instantaneously. TOGAME's thoughts raced, his aloof demeanour spinning around in circles like a pertueral carousel as he considered the possibility. Togame eventually came to the harrowing conclusion that he wasn't enough for you, that you felt neglected, or worse, unhappy being with him. 

He stared at you, his eyes wide. "What do you mean by 'disappear'?" he asked, his voice trembling a bit despite his efforts to keep it steady.

Just the mere thought of that made his stomach churn and his chest tighten. He couldn't bear the idea of losing you, even if through the lens of a mere hypothetical question. Togame, usually so stoic and composed, felt his facade crumble before your very eyes. Regardless, he was still intent on proving his worth and winning you back, all in the name of rectifying whatever he had failed to do.

You could see the pure, unfiltered, raw emotion in his eyes, the sheer terror of losing you. "Oh no, Jo, I didn't mean it seriously! I was just curious," you said In hopes of smoothing him, but the worry etched on his face didn't fade.

"...it's not something I can just ignore," he said, voice growing firmer. "If you ever feel that way, if you ever think about leaving, please, talk to me first and we can communicate… Let me fix whatever is wrong.l, whatever it is. Because the thought of you not being in my life is unbearable…" He reached out, taking your hands in his shaky ones. “You want to know my answer? I would search for you everywhere, and do anything to bring you back. You mean far too much to me to just let you go…”

His vulnerability was laid bare, even to your own surprise, who didn't expect this from a mere question. Togame would do anything to prove his love to you, to ensure that you never felt the need to ask such a question again. And in that, he certainly succeeded, because you would never doubt his devotion to you again, not that you did to begin with, but knew that it was a slippery slope and a topic to avoid when with him.

But, for good measure, after that conversation fiasco, Togame had taken up a new hobby. And you were more than happy until you realized what that "hobby" of his entailed, as friends or practically anybody who was an unfortunate passerby, would immediately notice a bodyguard-like figure constantly by your side. That is, until they saw the brute clinging onto you like a man desperate for even a whiff of your attention.

©hxnbi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of my works.

[mostly-imagines]

🌻 anon here

The last few days I stumbled into a few posts about Jason having +18 pics of reader in his phone and I just can't stop thinking "would he tho??" Like would he trust enough his device to have r18 pictures of the one he love and literally worship in his phone??? Knowing he knows damn well how easy it is nowadays to get those types of pictures through hack and stuff??

And I'm not saying he would share the pics, HELL NO he would never. But because I don't think he would trust his phone -and also because it cracks me up- I imagine him having a Polaroid to take the pics. The photos get printed automatically and if he have to he can't literally burn those without having to overthink about someone hacking his phone.

Like can you imagine him just casually take a Polaroid you didn't know where there out his nightstand and taking a pics of you while you reaching your peak??

Anyways all of that just to ask what one of my fav Jason writers would think about the whole Jason having spicy pics of you in this phone

18+

i’ve honest to god been thinking about this non stop since you sent it sunny

i think you're dead on, jason's protective streak rings too loud in his mind to ever take the chance of someone else maybe seeing those photos of you. personally, i’m of the belief that he uses his phone for the most practical purposes only and that his photo gallery is borderline empty, with few exceptions of nondescript images. like the only pictures of you on his phone don’t show your face or any revealing information about you. yeah, he’s a little paranoid in that way but it just makes his alternative that much more interesting.

there’s also something about it that feels more personal, more intimate. there’s not a chance in hell those photos are going near another person and he likes the idea that you’re giving him this amount of vulnerability and trust.

i also think he is an avid supporter of your personal autonomy and feels better knowing that if you want a picture gone, all you have to do is burn it and it's gone forever. he doesn't really like the idea that so many things on electronics can be spread or seen without you even knowing, so he's perfectly fine to stash a few polaroids in unsuspecting places.

he’d be really hesitant to ask you the first time, he was worried he’d make you uncomfortable or that you’d think it was weird. the thought initially came about after he’d gone on an away mission that lasted twice as long as it was supposed to and he was bordering on losing it without a single image of you. that, and frankly, he was stressed and he has never experienced a stress relief quite like you.

so the night he comes back he’s kissing you hard and rubbing up against you, but all he can think about is how badly he wants to capture all your facial expressions and imagery he couldn’t stop imagining while he was gone.

he breaks away from your lips breathlessly, “can I take a picture of you?”

you give him a bemused look, “what? like, now?”

he fiddles with the waistband of your underwear, not making eye contact. “well…in a few minutes..”

his timorous disposition gives you a solid clue of what he means and you smile up at him. “yeah?”

he finally meets your eyes, looking hopeful. “is that alright?”

“of course,” you nod and he leans back down against you, lips meeting your pulse point. “what brought this on?”

he noses at your neck, “jus’ missed you. a lot.”

you nod, pulling back and running a finger down to the tip of his nose. “take as many as you want.”

and he did.

his favorite pics are the ones he takes right when you cum, lips slightly parted, brow pinched. he’s also fond of the moments right when you’re just starting to feel it.

the photos of you on your knees, trying to take him in your mouth as much as you can really do something to him. your eyes watering and you holding his hand for support. he has to pace himself when he looks at those, especially the ones where you’re looking up at the camera.

he doesn’t usually like to be in the pictures, other than his dick in/against you or his hand splayed across your stomach or neck. he also has one or two where you’re riding him and his free hand is on your hip guiding you.

you’d have to be having a particular kind of sex for it to even occur to him to stop and take pictures. it only really happens during the easy times, when you’re both just having fun more than anything. it’s then when he’s really able to take his time with you and savor things, which is why the majority of your polaroids are taken then. he’s also more likely to be in a teasing mood then and not in a particular rush to get you where you’re going. a lot of those pictures show you smiling and completely relaxed which is another reason why he tends to revere those moments.

a grade A way to make him feel better after a long week is leaving him some surprise polaroids in the stash, it makes him crazy. he’s honestly just really obsessed with the idea that you trust him so much with those kinds of photos that you’d go out of your way to take some for him when he’s not even there. i actually think that’s at least half of what turns him on so much about the whole thing, the trust that you place in him and only him to not only see you in those moments but also relive them afterwards. just pics of you in lingerie or even just one of his shirts—it’s over for him.

[moonlightspencie]

initially an idea from @hotchfiles from forever ago when i asked for james fic requests, and i finally wrote it teehee

original idea: “reader’s first time that she wants to get over and just do it with a friend she trusts and he ends up confessing mid sex”

james potter x reader

warnings: smut! (p in v, first time, virgin!reader), MDNI

————————

To say you were shocked was an understatement.

You didn’t wake up this morning thinking you’d be messing around with your best friend. You definitely didn’t think he’d kiss you. Or do more.

But here you were, in his bed.

You couldn’t even blame the party or the drinks since each of you had only taken one shot each. James loved a party, but when it was at his home, he tended to lean on the conservative side until it was just his closest friends left over.

Now, you had no clue who was even still downstairs. He’d taken you upstairs an hour ago after a messy kiss. At first you thought that maybe it was for attention with his friends. But when barely anybody noticed, you dropped that theory quickly.

And it seemed like a perfect opportunity.

You still hadn’t lost your virginity, and it was something you’d been reflecting on more often lately after your 22nd birthday had come and gone. Realistically, it wasn’t a big deal. You just wanted to know what it felt like.

But you weren’t sure that your friends were entirely aware. You’d messed around with people before, but you’d never gone all the way. You didn’t want it to be some big event, and the second James started pulling your clothes off… what was the harm if he knew or not what your sexual history was?

It was going so well, too! Up until your initial feeling of being impressed by his size caught up to you.

The second he lined himself up and started pushing into you, you felt a bit nervous. The stretch wasn’t a great feeling, much to your disappointment. It wasn’t all bad, but it just felt like too much too fast. And he wasn’t slowing down. You held back any noises at first, but there came a point when you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“James, oh my g—” you moan, face feeling hot as he bottoms out. It kind of hurts.

“Feel good love?”

You’re silent for a moment, breathing heavily.

“I-I don’t know,” you shake your head as you respond.

James stops, looking at you. “What? What do you mean?”

“Kind of hurts.”

He smirks a little. “Never been with someone as big as me, love?”

You shake your head again. “Haven’t been with anyone.”

His smirk falls completely. He shakes his head, looking down at you in confusion, his chest heaving for a different reason, now.

“No—nobody?”

You swallow, realizing your mistake. You look up at him, feeling a bit panicked. He starts pulling out, and you wince at the feeling, then scramble to sit up when he sits back on his knees, his face in his hands.

“Jamie—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, looking at you. “Why… God, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Please,” you say, reaching for him, holding onto one of his arms. “I just… I haven’t done anything like this before and I wanted to do it with someone who I already know and love and then… then you kissed me and it just seemed like the right time.”

“Love, I can’t be your first time.”

“Why not?” you ask, voice clearly a little desperate. “You already—”

“I already did way too much,” he cuts you off, then looks at you again, his gaze softening. “You should’ve told me.”

“You wouldn’t have gone as far as you did.”

“That’s my point.”

You sigh, scooting closer to him. You hold onto his arm, your head leaning in his shoulder.

“Just wanted it to be with someone I care about. A friend and not some… Some guy who’d never talk to me again,” you explain quietly. “Would’ve asked Sirius or Remus but…”

James shakes his head. “Why didn’t you just ask me, then? I might’ve said okay.”

“Just wanted to do it. Get it over with. I didn’t think it was a big deal,” you shrug.

“It is a big deal, baby,” he sighs, glancing at you. “It’s a really big deal.”

“I don’t want it to be.”

“Why not?”

“Cause… it’s just sex. I just want to get the first time over with. Is that wrong?”

He swallows, hugging you to him. “It’s not wrong, I just—”

“What?”

“I thought you’d want a better experience.”

You furrow your brow. “But you’re my best friend. It is a good experience.”

“Love…”

“Please, James. Can we please just keep going?”

He glanced down at you, wetting his lips on instinct as he sees you looking up at him like that. After all, he was only a man. And you… you were his beautiful best friend. Naked and pretty and begging for him to keep fucking you. He wasn’t usually weak, but he couldn’t imagine anyone being able to say no to you like this.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips with his, his hand cradling your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, melting.

“You need to tell me if it hurts this time,” he mumbled against your lips.

“I will,” you whispered back.

He nodded, hands running up your sides softly. He laid you back on the bed, settling between your legs again easily.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

“I know, James. I will.”

He let out a heavy breath, groaning with his head dropping into your neck as he pushed into you again.

“Fuck, love…” he moaned, leaving sloppy kisses along your neck and shoulder.

You breathe heavy, whimpering softly. “It feels… a lot better this time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

You clutch onto him tightly, gasping as he finally starts moving. It feels strange and unfamiliar… but so good. You moan out his name as his hips snap against yours with every thrust.

“So— so good, Jamie,” you breathe out shakily.

“You’re even better,” he mumbles, his voice laced with desperation. “You’re perfect.”

“No I’m not.”

“You are.”

You whine, your head back against the pillows. He picks up the pace, his heart pounding not only from the effort, but from the feelings overwhelming him.

“God, I love you,” he groaned.

“Love you, too, Jamie.”

He shook his head, kissing your skin delicately.

“No, I love you.”

“What?”

He picked up his head to look down at you as he kept thrusting into you. “You’re perfect, love. Geez, you’re not usually this thick. I’m— I love you.”

“What?” you repeat with wide eyes.

“Just… you know what I mean,” he says desperately, looking down at you as if he could cry.

You swallow. Suddenly his behavior makes even more sense. He didn’t want to take your virginity. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted everything to be perfect for you. He loved you.

“I love you too.”

His eyes go wide as he moans. “You do?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, dropping his head against you again in relief. “We’re doing this more often.”

“I won’t complain,” you chuckled breathlessly.

“Good. Cause this isn’t ending any time soon.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyyy

I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests (ignore if not!)

The bat boys finding the reader sitting on the roof after a nightmare….comfort??fluff???

I was half asleep when I write this lol so naturally it’s not going to be a good one.

Jason

‘I had a feeling you’d be up here.’ He said the moment he saw you by yourself on the rooftop, blanket draped over your shoulders, as you looked over the rest of Gotham city.

‘How?’ You asked as you watched him sit himself down next to you.

‘I usually come up here myself when the dreams…became a little too real for my liking.’ Jason tells you and you didn’t need to ask him to elaborate on what he meant by that as the answer was written clear across his face, he too needed a change of scenery and fresh air to clear his mind after waking from a nightmare.

‘Well I’m fine.’ You try telling him, only to hear him scoff.

‘You wouldn’t be out here if you were fine sweetheart, I know that you can barely close your eyes right now without being reminded of why you came up here in the first place.’ He says as he looks at you knowingly. ‘Am I right?’

You sighed defeatedly as you leaned your tired and exhausted self into his side as Jason responded by draping a comforting arm over you as to keep you pressed against him. ‘Yeah, your right, your always right jay birdie but I didn’t know what else to do.’ You admitted, scared to bring yourself to even close your eyes for a single second without being reminded of what you were trying to escape in the first place. It hurt to much to revisit and if you could you would give up sleeping forever, especially if it meant never having to be scared of where your mind might take you ever again.

‘Hey it’s okay,’ Jason shushes you, tightening his hold on you. ‘it’s okay sweetheart, there’s no need to apologies I’m right here okay, nothings going to get you when I’m here with you.’ He then whispered against you as he presses kisses into your head, wishing he could do more to comfort you, but had to settle for what he could do for you in this moment of time. ‘I’m not going anywhere you hear me? I’m staying by your side and we’re going to get through this together because you’ve been strong for too long.’

You melted further into his side as his words soothed your mind and brought about more favourable memories of yourself and Jason, sweet, tender memories of reading together as you cuddled up on the couch, watching rubbish films as you had take out and amongst many more that left you thinking of nothing but him.

Dick

‘Babe? You had me worried when I couldn’t find you in bed, what are you doing out here?’ Dick asks when he lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing you on the roof of your shared home, looking out into the city of bright lights.

‘Nightmare.’ Was all you said, too tired to bring yourself to speak more than you’d like as you brought your hands under your armpits as to keep yourself warm, blinking bleary.

‘Oh honey.’ Dick cooed as he brought himself to hug you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. Is there anything I can do to help? Water, a snack from the kitchen? Anything you want I’ll get it for you baby, all you’ve got to do is ask.’ Just when you thought Dick was going to pull away from you, you immediately latched onto him and buried your head into his neck.

‘Stay, please.’ You pleaded with him as you tightened your grip on his waist. ‘I don’t want to be alone right now.’

Dick helps you closer to him as he began to rub your up and down back comfortingly. ‘I’m wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, not now not ever.’ He said softly. ‘I love you too much and I hate seeing you in pain and not being able to do something about it, I’d do anything to stop you from having nightmares, so focus on my voice until you feel comfortable enough to fall back asleep okay?’ He instructs you as he kept your head cradled against his chest so that all you could hear was his heartbeat.

‘Okay.’ You hummed as you nuzzled closer to dick, allowing yourself to drink him and leech off of his warmth and distinct smell that only further helped you into getting into relaxed state to begin falling asleep against him, fully content in knowing that he wasn’t going to go anywhere anytime soon.

‘Now how about I tell you about the many times me and Jason got into trouble while we were younger, it all began with a fake moustache.’ Dick then began to tell you a story of how him and Jason would often dare each other to do the most stupidest thing they could think of. It was both stupid as it was hilarious as your nightmare was long forgotten as it was replaced with the stories that Dick filled your head with, leaving you with a content smile upon your face.

Damian

‘It’s not safe to be up here alone.’ You heard Damian’s voice scold you.

‘There’s not that many safe places to go for a breath of fresh air in Gotham, so I wasn’t exactly spoilt for choice.’ You replied as you looked to see him stood behind you almost imposingly.

‘True but you could’ve at least told me that you were experiencing a nightmare.’ Damian said as he stepped next to you, looking down at your unsteady hands before quickly grabbing ahold of it within his own and clumsily intertwining his fingers with your own, comforting someone wasn’t his strong suit but at least he was aware of what simple gestures gave you some peace of mind during times of uncertainty.

‘I hate how easily you can read me sometimes.’ You chuckled humourlessly but found yourself squeezing his hand, finding that your nerves had calmed down a little bit then before. Damian had that effect on you as he often acted as your stability during times of uncertainty and or anxiety, so much that you couldn’t thank him enough for being here with you as often as he had.

‘No you don’t,’ Damian stated self assured, overlooking the city before looking at you with a slightly softer expression, ‘you’re aware that comforting others is not something I’m use to but you still allow me to try and console you during times of uncertainty, and for that I now know that my place is to be forever by your side and easing your fears like a partner should.’ He adds, squeezing your hand softly.

You smiled as you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking at nothing in particular. ‘You don’t have to do much other than give me your company.’ You tell him truthfully, you could stand out for the entity of the night if Damian was going to keep you from feeling less alone with your thoughts.

Damian smiled softly to himself. ‘Is that all? Just my company is enough?’

‘Since you’re asking, do you think that you could just hold me? Just for a little while?’ You asked, looking over at him as he silently thought it over before answering, ‘if that is what will help you ease back into sleeping, then I shall hold you for as long as you require my reassure.’ Before then gently tugging you closer to him by your joined hands, his bodily warmth warming you almost instantly as you cuddled into his side, feeling your head clear of all the fear that clung to you regarding of falling asleep again as Damian held you protectively against his chest.

[xxchaosjojoxx]

Hi :)

I have always loved law since his first appearance in the anime.

May I ask for a law x Reader but reader is an absolute GREAT at lying. Like they lie all the time and no one would know it was a lie due to specific things that aren't exactly related to the lie but was somehow a "proof" that it was believable. It even fooled Law himself.

Reader is always so happy, like always smiling and cheerful and everything. But with a really constructed lie, a smile isn't always real.

You get what I mean?

Most lies I was talking about was:

"I ate dinner" for example.

Reader didn't actually eat but can be proven to because 1, reader could have planned to "eat" later due to "work" when in reality, they just planned to go inside the lunch room for a few moments and made sure someone saw so they'd have an alibi.

So basically, it's based on alibis and statements that make said lie true.

A/N: Thanks so much for your request. I had an idea in my mind and suddenly it went dark/angst. I hope it is still to your liking and I’m not sure if I should do a second part to add some fluff like I had originally planned.

Lies

You were the sunshine on and inside the Polar Tang. With your bright smile, you could earn a lot of happy smiles and joyful words whenever you enter a room. No one would ever think that this was a facade. That all of this would be a lie. Even your captain would call anyone crazy who would think not of a bunch of sunshine whenever you are around.

Your skills as a thief back in the day are kinda handsy. You are quick and precise when it comes to battle. With your radiant presence and this bright smile paired with those big soft eyes it was easy to gain a lot of free supplies and goodies, whenever your duty was to go shopping. You joined the Heart pirates after stealing some things from Penguin and Shachi nearly 4 months ago. Sadly you couldn’t escape the blue orb nor the teleportation as this man, now your captain, Trafalgar Law was grabbing you with a smirk on his face. You had skill, this might come in handy for sure. That was his reason to let you join his crew. The fact that you would probably lose your head was not an option back there. He was intimidating but handsome. You would be a fool to not follow an attractive man.

The life you had back there was a life you wished to erase forever.

As a foster kid some adults used you for stealing. Kids are small, they can hide better, right?

Over the years you could perfect your stealing skills and one more skill. To lie. Whenever you trembled, whenever you where crying or doing not exactly what they told you, they would hurt you, torture you. You had to learn to lie, because you needed to survive. You had to lie to yourself, that all of this wouldn’t be your whole life. That you would find something better for sure someday. Then you met the heart pirates, they all welcomed you like a family. And even though you showed them your brightest smile, your happiest face, the loudest laugh, you were still aware of them. This is not real. They will use you when they get a chance. Don’t trust them. All of this was repeating in your head every now and then. No one knew what you were hiding because no one suspected anything.

The first time Law suspected something was not too long ago. He worked a lot today and went to the kitchen, to get a snack as he passed you. “You ok, y/n-ya? You look pale? Did you eat anything?”

You were looking at him, giving him a bright smile. “Hey Captain. Of course. I ate dinner already. I just ate too much, maybe that’s why.”

He looked at you with a stern look. “Ok don’t overwork yourself.”

“Aye aye Captain.” and with that you left him. Only after he entered the kitchen and saw the dish, he knew something was off.

Law saw Shachi and Penguin sitting at the table, talking and laughing. “Was Y/N in here?”

They looked at him. “Yeah, she just left with a plate in her hand. She has too much work to do, so she wanted to eat in her room.” The red haired said and Law tilted his head in confusion. “I just saw her, and she didn’t even have a plate in her hand.”

Bepo entered the kitchen from behind. “Oh she gave me the plate earlier. Said I should eat it. She had too much earlier and put way more on the plate for her to finish.”

“I see.” With this Law grabbed a snack and returned to his office with a bad feeling.

He was reading some paperwork as he took a bite from his snack. His mind was wandering back to you. It felt off. Did you really have dinner? The fact that you filled your plate with food and the fact why you didn’t have it when he met you earlier, it all was reasonable. But something was still weird. Would you lie to him? You had no reason for it. But remembering the food, he knew that Shachi was in charge of cooking today and he also knew that Shachi used some spices especially one you didn’t even like. There was no way you wouldn’t notice it and there was also no way that you would eat it to the point you would grab another plate. He hid his face in his hands and was remembering every situation with you in it since you joined. There was never an occasion that he would feel like this. Without even realizing he went towards the storage room, knowing you were on duty today, to write down what else you would need when you dock on the next island.

You stand there with a pencil and a little book in your hands, taking notes. As you felt his presence you turned around to see your captain and smiled at him. “Hey Captain. Can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, can you give me your hand for a second please? I need to confirm something.”

With a confused look you reached your right hand towards him, his warm hands were cupping your own and you could feel a light blush on your face.

“What exactly do you confirm?” You gulped and were looking at him.

“I thought I saw something earlier.” He had not enough time to think of anything clever.

“Do you feel better now? You know because of your second plate of food today.”

He had to concentrate on your heartbeat, on your pulse.

You were looking at him even more confused. “Yes, thank you.”

He squeezed your hand a little tighter. If people lie, their heartbeat, pulse and the breath would give them away, but everything was normal. Not even a slight change. But he knew that you didn’t have another plate. You gave it to Bepo. “Didn’t you give it to Bepo?”

He was staring at you. You felt a little shiver as he was staring at you with this cold look.

"Yeah, I did. I thought I could eat more, but then I felt sick so I gave it to Bepo instead.” Again you were smiling. You didn’t even have to think long enough or even stutter. Your answer was way too perfect. Even if you were telling him the truth, you wouldn’t answer as fast as possible.

“Did you ever lie to us?”

You shook your head and your eyes were wide. “What? No, why should I?”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I do. I never lied to you or anyone else on this ship.”

You were looking at him in determination and in this moment knew, he wouldn’t get the answer out of you.

He knew something was off but he couldn’t prove it. Just his gut feeling wouldn’t be enough.

He let go of your hand. “I’m sorry. I'll let you finish your work.” Law was about to leave the room as he turned his head towards you.

“You can trust us, you know? I know that your past was hard, but you are safe now. If you wanna talk with anyone about anything, do it please.”

Law could see a small nod coming from you. “Of course I do, captain. I already trust you. Thanks for checking on me.” You showed him a big grin and Law couldn’t help but feel this bad feeling inside him to blossom. Now that he felt off he couldn’t help but wonder, if those smiles of yours and your shining personalities are fake. What about you is real? What is a lie? He was determined to find the truth from this day on.

[irkimatsu]

Husk eats his partner for breakfast (more precisely, his women's pussy and breasts~)

Let's let our man have what he wants 😉🔥

Mmmm what a delicious breakfast~

You wake up by Husk's side, both of you still nude from last night's passion. You still can't stop thinking about all the ways he touched you last night... his body pressing down on you, his fangs grazing your neck as he thrusts into you with all his power, his voice making the most delicious growls and moans every time he bottoms out... you cuddle up to his chest and close your eyes, happy to relive the memory for a while longer. Last night's cologne has mostly worn off of him, leaving you to breathe in the comforting familiarity of his natural scent.

"Mornin', babe," you hear from above you as he combs his claws through your hair. "Sleep well?"

You mumble an agreement. "Hard not to, after the way you wore me out last night."

He chuckles to himself before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You felt too damn good. I couldn't stop myself."

"Hey, I'm not complaining about it."

You lay in silence for a bit longer, enjoying the blanket over you, and more importantly, Husk's bare fur and skin pressed against your body. You could stay here in this peace forever...

"Mind if I have some breakfast?" he asks.

You nod as you pull away from him. It sucks to have to leave his comfort, but you know what a miserable wretch he can be if he doesn't get some coffee and food (and, regrettably, whiskey) in his system shortly after waking up. You expect him to hop out of bed, throw on some slacks, and head downstairs to see what Niffy's prepared this morning; whether or not he has a bath first depends on how loudly his stomach is protesting.

Instead, he rolls on top of you and kisses your lips until you're struggling for breath.

"Husk!" you gasp out when he finally breaks the kiss. "What are you doing?"

"Having breakfast," he says simply before kissing his way along your jaw, down to the side of your neck. "I'm in the mood for something sweet..."

You're not exactly prepared, appearance-wise. You haven't had a chance to shower yet, and you feel like you're still slick with sweat from the previous night.

Husk's purring as his rough tongue laps at your collarbone assures you that this is the opposite of a problem for him.

"If it's something sweet you want..." you say playfully as you grab his paw and drag it down your body. You press his palm against your clit, and you gasp.

"Mmm... sounds great," he says. "But you know I don't like jumping right for the main course. Gotta have a little appetizer first..."

Your breathing picks up as his mouth gently brushes the top of one of your breasts. He cups both of them in his paws and squeezes them as he circles his tongue around your nipple.

"Oh god, Husk..." You tangle your fingers in the hair between his ears and push slightly, encouraging him to feast as much as he wants. He immediately takes your offer, and you gasp in a high pitch as he starts suckling at your breast, his fangs lightly pinching the sensitive skin. After a few moments of light suckles, he gives you as hard of a suck as he can, before releasing your breast with a pop. He gives you no time to relax before his attention is on your other breast, lapping at your nipple before beginning to suckle. The cool air of the room chills the wet spot he's left behind on your now-neglected breast; as if sensing this, he presses his palm to your nipple and gently massages warm circles into it.

"You're so good to me, baby..." you moan.

He purrs and waves his tail at the compliment.

You know you won't be able to stay here with him forever; sooner or later, Charlie will be just outside the door to tell you that breakfast is ready. She'll be awkward about it, considering the time you accidentally, and very loudly, let her know exactly what was keeping you and Husk in bed so long... but not even that incident has stopped her from making sure that none of her guests miss breakfast and have to go hungry.

It can't last forever, but you'll both savor this until that interruption comes.

Your breathing calms down once he finally releases your breast from his mouth for the final time, and instead focuses his mouth's attention on your stomach. He's moving lower on your body, but slowly, so slowly, making sure the tension in your chest is agonizing before he finally grants you relief.

"Wanna make a bet with me?" he asks between kisses.

"It's always a bet with you," you say with a laugh. "What's the bet?"

You gasp and roll your head back as his tongue passes over your clit. "Fuck, you're wet..." he mutters to himself. After taking a few more tastes, he stops licking you so he can focus his eyes on you, his mouth growing into a smirk.

"Here's the bet... how many times do you think I can make you cum before Charlie shows up?"

[yuurei20]

Hey there! Absolutely love all the work you do here, it's really helped me as a newer fan of Twst get a better grasp on the characters and lore, so thanks a lot!!!

I'm not sure if it's ever specified anywhere, but do we know what exactly the name "Twisted Wonderland" encompasses in-universe? Like, is it the name of the whole planet, or a continent, or some other established grouping?

I know we do have a map that shows a lot of the characters homelands, but as far as I recall, it doesn't include the Scalding Sands. Which beyond it being the homeland of Kalim and Jamil, there was also a whole in-game event there that fleshed out the environment and culture, yet do we even know where it would hypothetically be on a map?

I also remember Sam talking about the cultures of the East during the New Years event, so there is presumably more beyond the map we know, but I just don't know if it has ever been clarified? Madol/Thaumarks are also the only currency we've ever seen, which could make it similar to Euro in how a whole continent uses it, or maybe there's something else to it.

Apologies for the long ask, I just found the implications to be fascinating depending on what little info we may have on the matter!

Hello hello! Thank you for this question! ^^ And you are much too kind!! ♡

From comments like “Twisted Wonderland’s got a number of educational institutions for cultivating magicians” and “Twisted Wonderland would be forever enveloped in winter’s cold, harsh embrace,” I do believe that “Twisted Wonderland” is meant to be the name of the entire place to which the prefect has been relocated! 

There are other times, however, where this can sound odd: the entire world (is it a world?) has the same traditional event (Beanfest)? The entire world has the same kind of fire and police organizations? Halloween is one of the biggest events in the entire world? Icicle mushrooms are one of the three greatest delicacies in the entire world? 

It is not impossible, but it is curious! Is it maybe not literally the entire planet, but possibly just a hemisphere?

(But is it a planet at all? Could it possibly be a dimension? 👀 We know that the dorms exist in dimensions of their own--are those pocket dimensions inside the dimension that is Twisted Wonderland?)

Except, as you say, Kalim and Jamil’s home country is not even on the main “world” map and yet it is still considered a part of Twisted Wonderland (as far as I can tell), so we know that “Twisted Wonderland” consists of more than what is being shown to us!

We have never been shown any borders of “this is where Twisted Wonderland ends and where another place begins,” or even heard that any place besides Twisted Wonderland exists here, so with the information we have at the moment I would say that everywhere we have heard of thus far is within the boundaries of Twisted Wonderland—whatever it is that may be 👀 (Limbo?)

Also as you say Sam does manage having eastern branches of his Mystery Shop, but Sam is very mysterious 👀

We technically do not even know if he is a mage (he does not seem to have a visible magestone, unlike the rest of the staff, and being magicless would tie in well to the character upon which he was based), or anything about these Eastern shops! It does not seem like it would be out of character for Sam to have access to inter-dimensional travel and, as aforementioned, his hometown cannot be found on the map 👀

Is Sam like the prefect, moving in between Twst and the world from which the prefect came (and maybe even Japan itself, hence his "Eastern branches")? I am pretty sure that there is nothing in-game to insinuate that this is the case, but it is fun to think ^^

Also as you say, Madol/Thaumarks seem to be a universal currency! I like your comparison to Euro very much!

While things like having the same traditions/currency/events/etc. throughout an entire planet might be a little unrealistic (in this game about dragon princes and mermaids who do parkour ww), it is possible that things were simplified just for the sake of keeping it all manageable within the visual novel medium ^^

My apologies for not having any answers! I do not believe that there is any information missing from what you already know, and while it is all very vague and curious, I agree it is also fun to think about! ^^

[gguk-n]

The illusion of destiny- Growth & Realisation (Oscar Piastri x Y/N)

Summary- In a world where you are destined to be with someone forever, a hopeless romantic lives her life in hope of finally finding her soulmate.

Part 1 Alt ending

ENDING Oscar's POV

I left that day, leaving my soulmate for good or so I thought. That's the funny thing about fate you see, you can't avoid it. If it was meant to be then it was meant to be. Things between me and my girlfriend soured after that. It was like we fought about the smallest of things and couldn't see eye to eye. All I could think about was my soulmate in the moments we fought, would she also get angry at me the same way my girlfriend did. Her name sounded so pretty, that interaction embedded in my heart. But every time I tried to remember her voice I would also remember the heart break I caused. It served me right. The relationship I held onto to let her go was falling apart right in front of my eyes and I didn't know how to fix it.

After 6 months of back and forth me and my girlfriend finally broke up. It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. I spent most of my time wallowing in my own pity. I didn't know where she lived or what she did. How was I going to find her? All of this had started to affect my racing. Charles had really taken on the role of a big brother after the adoption that happened as a joke. He had noticed my turmoil.

Charles sat me down one day, "Hey Oscar, is everything alright? You've been so out of it lately." he said. I didn't know what to tell him or where to start but I knew one thing he was/ had been in a similar predicament. "What did you do when you found your soulmate while you were dating your ex?" Charles seemed to understand where this was going, "I broke up with her and started seeing my soulmate." he said. "Was it that easy to leave the person you loved for your soulmate?" I asked. "It was a no brainer, she was the love of my life. We were fated to be together for the rest of our lives." He answered. I let out an exasperated sigh.

I ran a hand through my already messy hair, I muttered, "Fuck" and kept rubbing my eyes which were now raw from all the rubbing. Charles sat there quietly waiting for me to talk to him. He didn't push me. I slowly began speaking, "6 months ago, I met my soulmate." I breathed out while he waited for me to continue. "I was in a relationship at that time and I didn't want to give up that comfort for something new. So I rejected my soulmate. But every day since then I've been in turmoil. My relationship ended. I can't drive properly, I can't think straight. Every waking moment is occupied with the thought of my soulmate. Even sleep wouldn't grace me to end my misery." I spoke. Charles patted my back, "Mate, you fucked up. I don't know what to say but you should try to find her. That's the only way. She is supposed to be the one. That's why your heart is like this. You shouldn't have rejected her. I am not sure if she will take you back but you can try. Meeting your soulmate is a once in a life time thing and you just blew it. Let's hope for your sake, you get another chance." I felt like crying, this can't be happening I thought.

10 years later

It has been so long since that incident, but I hadn't stopped looking. I went back to the city we first met every once in a while in search of Y/N. I knew the city like the back of my hand at this point. I travelled the world more than necessary in hopes of meeting her. My racing career was slowly winding down, having won a lot of races and finding success that I always dreamt of. The one thing missing was the person I could share this with. I dreamt of our kids and them becoming racers too.

On an uneventful day in autumn, I was back home for the weekend. The morning swim was quite refreshing but a good coffee would really wake me up. I went to the new cafe that had popped up near my parent's house. As I neared the cafe, I saw something peculiar. My red string of fate had become visible again, after 10 years. Maybe fate was really giving me another chance and I wasn't going to fuck it up again. I followed the thread to finally see her. She looked beautiful as ever, I started to talk towards her when she saw me and bolted. I ran after her, calling out her name. She was fast and after a few minutes I was able to finally catch her. "Y/N, Hi! I'm Oscar Piastri, your soulmate." I said the dichotomy of the statement. She blinked at me thrice before freeing herself from my grasp. "What do you want?" she spat. I could feel the hurt. "I-I-I, uhm, we're soulmates. I've been searching for you for so long. I'm just happy we met." I said scratching my neck. She looked at me confused, "I thought you had a girlfriend and we couldn't be together" she said. "That was a long time ago, and I broke up with her soon after we met. I just, I'm sorry for being an ass. I just wanted us to give it another go. I searched every country for you. It's funny how you are here, the last place I would look." I laughed. "You don't have to forgive me immediately. But I really want to be with you. If you'll let me?" I rushed to complete my sentence in one breath.

Tears started to well up in her eyes, I quickly reached to wipe them off. My hands cupping her cheeks. "You know I've been watching you everyday since then, making sure you were ok, celebrating your wins and crying at your loses. I watched all of your content and held onto all the merch and memorabilia but I couldn't get myself to go to another race. This feels like a dream. You've broken my trust for sure and I can't let you in immediately, but you are my soulmate at the end of the day." She said. I was crying at this point. She wiped away my tears. "I'm so sorry Y/N. I'll make it up to you for the rest of my life. I promise." She smiled for the first time since we met. "Can I kiss you?" I whispered. "I thought you'd never ask." She said as she pushed herself up to meet my lips. The moment was perfect and I was going to cherish this and her for the rest of my life.

I hope you like it. There is an alternate ending if you like angst.

[perfectlyoongi]

FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE

‧₊˚ ┊synopsis ... you had to write a poem for a class and, when your creativity betrayed you, you decided to ask your boyfriend for help.

‧₊˚ ┊fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ ft. ... yoongi x afab!reader. ‧₊˚ ┊genre ... one-shot. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ content ... childhood friends & lovers (established relationship), fluff, just the complicity between u and yoongi. ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ word count ... 2k. ‧₊˚ ┊fandom ... ik as much abt writing poetry as ik abt quantum physics so u get no poem shoo shoo !! ps. dont mind the cringe :3 hope u enjoy ♡

“Come on, Yoonie!” you let out a small laugh when Yoongi grimaced as he shook his arm out of your hands. “Help me.”

“So annoying,” Yoongi prolonged the last word in a dramatic cry that made you laugh one last time. “Okay, I’ll help you.”

You quickly sat down on the black sofa in Yoongi's studio, on your lap a small notebook eager to be filled, in your hand a pencil half corroded by your thoughts. Yoongi sat next to you, in his hand a bottle of partially drunk water, in his eyes a sparkle that only appeared when he was with you.

“What do you need to do?”

“The professor asked for a poem and we had to draw the theme out of a hat.”

“And you got…”

“Love.”

Your response was accompanied by a frown on your part.

Since you remembered that you were submerged in a vast ocean of verses and stanzas, all the themes that could exist building little huts in your heart, creating fragments in your soul that would be forever united by your love for writing. And you wanted to know more about this art. You wanted to be able to create like so many others before you. You wanted to give your creativity a purpose and, with Yoongi's encouragement, you joined creative writing classes at your university.

But, as with everything, the dream became more fantastic than reality.

It was part of the challenge and it made you excited, more eager to create. But it was also tiring, spending days and nights pondering words and themes that could very well carry with them empty meanings and silent beauties. You wrote in constant fear of not being interpreted, of not being worthy of interpretation, of creating something too vague to have any value.

Everything was challenging for you, all the poems you had written to date being the result of too many thoughts and too little passion. So, when you got a theme as common and used as love, you only saw a solution to truly create a piece of art – after all, love only existed for you with Yoongi by your side.

“I kinda feel offended by your reaction,” Yoongi forced a frown and you smiled.

“Don’t start, please,” you opened the notebook and took a deep breath. “How am I supposed to start?”

“You can start by…” Yoongi was thoughtful for a moment, involuntarily playing with the bottle in his hands. “Trying to describe what love is to you?”

Your silence was capable of speaking louder than any words you could have said – and that only made Yoongi let out a small laugh.

Adjusting himself on the couch to get closer to you, Yoongi looked at you curiously. You had a serene expression, but your eyes showed that all the threads inside you were trying to interconnect to form a simple description. Leaning his arm against the back of the sofa and holding his head, Yoongi looked at you amused.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asked cordially, a smile lacing his words, his voice gently echoing through the studio.

“You know I’m terrible with feelings.”

“I’m no better.”

“But you write songs.”

“Because you inspire me!”

You already knew that. Yoongi had already told you countless times that great inspiration for his songs came from you, from the feeling he had for you; but that didn't stop you from reacting, completely embarrassed by your boyfriend's confession.

“Then give me tips!”

“I don't know!” Yoongi opened his arms in a dramatic way, fanning them to emphasize his speech. “I just feel it and the words come and the song gets written.”

You snorted to hide a smile and calmed down again, your back leaning against the sofa, your eyes jumping from the pencil to the blank page.

“And what do you feel?”

Your question hung in the air for a brief moment as Yoongi contemplated your words.

In Yoongi's mind, dozens of words began to appear quickly, constantly running over each other, wanting to be the first to be pronounced. In Yoongi's heart, dozens of emotions began to gently blossom, taking root in Yoongi, assuring his feelings for you.

The pause wasn't long, but for you it was an eternity.

The eagerness for an answer made your heart race. You were looking forward to Yoongi's words, not only to inspire you for your poem, but also to hear once again what you meant to him – it was always good to be reassured.

“At this moment…”

Yoongi's voice was hoarse, deep, gently sung by his delicate lips. The words were steeped in care and serenity. You could feel Yoongi's thoughts in his pronunciation, the way he was precisely selecting each word he spoke bringing a smile to your face.

“At this moment, I feel like a kid again.”

“A kid?” you gently tilted your head – of all the strings of words Yoongi could have said, that wasn't one that had crossed your mind.

“Yes,” Yoongi let out a laugh, nostalgia clinging to every syllable, memories of easier times clouding his studio. “Doesn’t this situation remind you of anything?”

Yoongi continued to look at you in love – there was no other word to describe it. The sparkle in Yoongi's eyes was completed by the genuine smile that slightly curved his sweet lips. Yoongi's words were filled with a gentleness that only existed when he spoke to you, about you.

You pondered Yoongi's words. Your boyfriend's voice echoed in your mind with some care, stretching out the syllables, trying to search your memories for the words you should say. And then you remembered.

“The first grade!”

You spoke happily, memories of your childhood painting nostalgic pictures in your head, vibrant colors of happy moments radiating warmth to your heart.

“The first grade,” Yoongi repeated between small laughs as he adjusted himself on the couch. “We spent our afternoons trying to learn math together.”

“And we were never successful.”

Your laughter settled into two broad, longing, passionate smiles.

“I never told you this…” Yoongi was the first to break the silence that rested in the studio, going back to shuffle on the sofa, playing with the bottle a little more. “But, I think I started to like you at that time.”

Your eyes opened in awe, your boyfriend's confession bringing a little warmth to your heart.

“Come on, Yoonie. We were kids. It’s impossible to like someone that way.”

Accompanied by laughter, your words shaped the atmosphere of the studio into a place of comfort, of safety, of confession.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi placed one of his hands on your leg, stroking it gently. “Already at that age I knew that I wanted to stay with you for the rest of my life.”

Like a dove's feather hovering gently on a hot summer day, Yoongi's confession remained in his study as it got to know every nook and cranny, spreading its warmth across the room and nuzzling your heart.

Stay with you for the rest of his life.

In a way, those words danced in your mind, a complex waltz of possible futures moving through the halls of memories. In a way, those words gave you a shy smile, a gentle curve of embarrassment beautifying your face. In a way, those words settled in your heart, a homely comfort soothing your soul.

For the rest of his life.

“And how did you know?”

Your tone of voice was provocative, causing Yoongi to smile smugly.

“Because it was when I was with you that I could see the world in colors.” Yoongi let the bottle fall into his lap, one of his hands shyly searching for yours. “I believe that my life only began the day I met you. I woke up every day looking forward to go to school just to see you. And it was when we started dating that I started thinking about a future for me, for us.”

There was a passionate smile on your lips, a shiny curve that infected Yoongi and encouraged him to gently caress the soft skin of your hand.

“What was love like as a kid?”

“Weird,” a wistful laugh left Yoongi’s lips, his eyes locked on a long-lived past. “I just thought about annoying you just to have an excuse to talk to you.”

“Is that why you always stole my pencils?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders with a false air of innocence and you laughed. “But when our friendship started to become more natural, I only thought about you. How it was only with you that I could be myself. How it was only with you that I could really have fun. How you were the only one who gave me a purpose to wake up every day.”

“Do you have any songs about me that you haven’t shown me yet?”

Yoongi laughed, a strong, pink tone taking over his cheeks as he let go of your hand and returned to holding the bottle.

“Let's take it easy. We were talking about your poem.”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you smiled and gently pinched his stomach. “Tell me your secrets!”

Your boyfriend sighed as he let a smile be etched on his face. “I have two. One of them I wrote when I was at school.”

He got up carefully, walking to his desk and picking up a black notebook that was already quite corroded by time: the pages were damaged by humidity and water, the cover was a little torn and folded – that notebook seemed to have been loved.

“I carry this notebook everywhere,” Yoongi sat down next to you again and placed the notebook on his lap, encouraging you to come closer to him. “It’s where I have my first thoughts and songs as a dreamer. Among them the first song I wrote.”

“Rest of my life”, you read Yoongi’s handwriting like an incantation, your lips pronouncing each syllable with the flavor of importance and passion seasoning the title of that song. “Why didn’t you ever show me?”

“I was ashamed. It’s not my best work, y’know?”

“But you still keep it.”

“Because it is my most genuine and heartfelt song.”

Yoongi looked at you and you returned the look. In the shine of your boyfriend's eyes you saw your future together, a home and a family, an eternity of passion and complicity; in the curve of your boyfriend's lips you saw your shared past, infinite stories and memories, an extensive melancholy of a passionate history.

Before you kissed Yoongi, you smiled.

Your lips touched lightly for just a moment but it was enough to send warm waves through your body. It was incredible that after so many years of friendship and dating, Yoongi still had that pleasurable effect on you.

“Can I read it?”

“No,” Yoongi laughed again and closed the notebook.

“Come on! Please, Yoonie.”

Yoongi looked at you thoughtfully, seeing in your pleading eyes and your innocent smile the whole reason for that song. “It was because of you that I started dreaming of a future.”

Somehow, you noticed in Yoongi's shy and reserved tone that those words weren't random, that behind each letter and timbre there was a memory dear to him, a memory of something that was reserved forever in his heart.

“The seeds you planted bloom in my heart. Gardens of tulip petals adorn my desire for a future. I always daydream immersed in swan lakes about a tomorrow with you. I only ask that you stay with me for the rest of my life.”

Even before Yoongi finished his quote, you kissed him again, passion and magic joining your lips in a new promise of love.

“You’re right,” you placed your forehead against Yoongi’s and let out a small laugh. “It’s not your best work.”

“I’m gonna hit you.”

Between laughs, Yoongi kissed you again, pulling away quickly when the memory of the reason for your visit appeared in his mind.

“We’ve already talked about me, let’s go back to the poem.”

“I think I understand what I have to do,” your pencil twirled in your hand as words began to unite a web of thoughts inside your heart. “I just have to remember all the ways you love me and make me feel loved.”

Yoongi kissed your forehead before leaving you immersed in feelings and phrases, a little encouragement from Yoongi before he returned to his work.

ㅤㅤ‧₊˚ feedback is appreciated ♡

[midnightsun-if]

Since a couple of you have asked for a full-fledged snippet/drabble of angst for the Vamp Moms™️, I decided to oblige and create a short drabble for you all!

This is more of internal grief than anything, but I hope it suffices in the angst department.

“Mama.”

A soft voice whispers out, a pleading edge to the tone, but she doesn't bother to turn around; only squeezes her eyes shut against the intruding noise. Trying her best to block out everything around her -- the noise of the city that lay beneath her feet, the soft vibrations from people living their daily life, of the whispered pleas of her children for her to come back to them, to stop the freefall she had been since her other half had been torn from her side.

She closed her eyes to block out the pain -- the sights and sounds that her Helena would never experience again -- while it also helped in blocking out the memories.

Every time she opened her eyes she was greeted by the sight of her bedroom, something that had once been her sanctuary, but was now her prison. A constant replay of events flickered across her mind as she looked the objects that meant something completely different now that her wife is gone -- the inanimate items taunting her for her failures.

Every time, when she feels well enough to traverse outside of her chambers, she hears the whispered conversations of her children, of her family, and is instantly reminded of the anguished cry that had escaped her mate before the unsettling silence had taken over. A silence that had only been broken by the cries of her own anguish when she had realized what had happened, when it was already too late.

Every time she blinks, Saraya is brought back to the sight of her mate's broken body -- so still against the carpeted ground of her study, a halo of red surrounding the once pristine white of her hair, crystalline blue eyes turned cold in their lifelessness.

Every time she closes her eyes, at least for the briefest of moments, Saraya is met by the sight of her wife's gentle smile, warmth suffused within her gaze, before the reality of Saraya's grief comes crashing back through her, shattering whatever haven her sleep-deprived mind had been able to conjure up.

"Mama. Please."

Her mind, no matter how much she pleaded with it to stop, to finally halt in her endless torment, kept replaying everything over and over again. Telling her everything she had already figured out since her mate had been taken from her.

She had failed.

She had failed her mate, her darling Helena.

She had failed her children, not being able to pull herself from the darkness that has entrapped her so.

She had failed her family, not being able to keep them safe even when she had always promised she would.

She had failed everyone, and now she was paying the price for it.

"Saraya, honey, please. We still need you."

Everything she had, everything she had accomplished, barring her beloved children, meant nothing now. Helena was gone. Taken. Murdered in the home they both had built. Her wife had always told her that she was like the Earth: dependable, strong, nurturing. But what Helena had never truly known was the simple fact that while Saraya may have been the Earth, she had always been her Sun. And now? Without her darling light to guide her way, without her Sun to orbit, she was drifting listlessly into the darkness of space, forever lost among the cosmos until she'd be able to find her Sun once more.

She couldn’t breathe knowing that Helena was no longer doing the same. Like the air was toxic and clogging up her lungs, only causing her sobs to become more and more erratic with each breath she takes. Her body folding in on itself because she couldn’t find the strength to keep standing. To appear strong and collected when her whole being was shattered beyond repair.

Her mind was only a vessel for her pain.

Her body was a prisoner to her despair.

Her heart was a hollow shell of what it used to be.

Despair crashes through her chest like a tidal wave, drowning her, making it hard to breathe. Tears escaping her eyes at a faster rate, the venom burning soft flesh as it tracks harshly down her cheeks. The sorrow consuming her and darkening her world. It was her fault Helena had been killed, if she had been paying attention, if she had simply allowed herself to be suspicious for once, then her darling mate, the love of her life, would still be by her side.

If she had simply listened to Helena's concerns, that the newest figure in her life, a man that seemed keen on starting up his own botanical store for the supernatural, seemed a bit too skittish for it to simply be written off as a character quirk.

If she had simply been able to see, beyond the lense of potentially making a new friend, something she hadn't been able to do in so long, then she would have been able to notice the look in his gaze every time he visited Celestia.

If she had simply been more aware than Helena wouldn't have had to push her out of the way.

If she had simply been better than her Helena would still be here, bringing joy and laughter to Saraya's world.

Instead, her world was now filled with nothing but despair and agony. Her body trapped in self-inflicted numbness, to everything, of course, except for her pain.

Her pain was the only thing that kept her close to her mate.

Her pain was the only thing that kept her wife alive.

Her pain was what she deserved for failing her Helena so completely.

She should have listened; her pain was only her punishment for not doing so.

[cagcd]

your honor ... them // @blxdc

[roadkillip]

I think Belos really suffers from the unfortunate constraints of 1) time, and 2) having to make a manipulative villain's lies obvious because he's in a children's cartoon. I just think Hollow Mind would be very fun if Belos, instead of instantly showing Luz and the audience memories that proved how evil he was, had tried to show himself as in the right. He chose the memories they viewed, after all.

[rosicheeks]

😔

[seelestia]

✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).

⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )

#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }

#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.

#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡

© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

★ 〜 masterlist.

will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.

you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.

and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?

(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)

but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.

(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.

time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?

time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

ticklish.

the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.

there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.

“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.

there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.

“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.

“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”

his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.

you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!

every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.

“mwah, mwah, mwah—”

“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”

(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)

will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.

(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)

the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.

if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.

(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)

veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.

mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”

at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.

looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?

✧ a moment among the stars:

“...yet another headache.”

as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.

you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.

a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.

(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)

veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”

oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.

you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.

“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.

“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.

(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)

“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.

“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”

“you—” he gasps in defeat, ��i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”

(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)

“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”

“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.

“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.

(your heart skips a beat.)

will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.

how mysterious.

but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?

your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.

pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.

(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)

the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.

fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.

(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)

if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.

as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?

(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”

sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.

“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”

you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.

he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”

or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.

(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)

“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”

“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.

most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.

“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”

you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?

(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)

will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?

after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?

but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.

(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)

dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”

(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)

sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.

(it remains persistently.)

when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.

when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.

(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.

but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”

you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”

he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.

“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.

“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.

“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.

dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.

“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.

(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)

“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”

“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.

“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.

(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡

[schrodingerscougar]

Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.

Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he’s developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.

For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He can’t even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isn’t sure you would return his feelings. If you didn’t, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and he’s honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.

The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since you’re at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows you’ll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that he’s back home.

He’s woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices it’s past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.

“You’re awake!” you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. “Welcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.”

That damn smile of yours. It’s wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. “It’s perfect, thank you,” he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, “Sorry.”

You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon can’t help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldn’t believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.

“What got you thinking so hard?”

Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. “You,” he replies honestly.

“Me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. “I had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,” he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. “Do you have any idea how much I miss you when I’m deployed? How many times do I wonder what you’re doing while I’m away?”

It’s easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. You’re both under a spell that he doesn’t want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he can’t help but think about whether or not you would be against it.

Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesn’t believe he deserves your attention. After all, he’s not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.

He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasn’t allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didn’t want to scare you away, he didn’t want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.

When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.

As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet, love. Let’s go on a proper date first, yeah?” he asks you with a small smile.

You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.

“I know you, Simon,” you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, “Okay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.”

With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. “Understood.”

Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. “I’ll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,” it says.

“Better not. She's taken,” he replies.

[feyascorner]

Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢

OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)

For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.

It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.

He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.

It's fucked up in so many ways.

"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."

In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.

The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.

Then, everything stops.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper.

They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.

You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.

But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.

You actually stopped.

Of course, you would. You're you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.

"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."

You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.

"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."

You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.

Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.

"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.

"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."

You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.

Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.

It's warm. Strange, but warm.

"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.

His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.

Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.

"Tell me I'm beautiful again."

"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."

You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.