#WHAT IF I GAVE HIM A RAT TAIL

[hyeonkiart]

endwalker spoilers

[mintytealfox]

I was just doodling all this for my own amusement and wasn't planning on posting but then I decided 'eh why not' so here it is lol

[luvjunie]

— braiding his hair

pairing: earth 42!miles x fem!reader

summary: Miles is very particular when it comes to how his hair looks, so he doesn’t let just anyone put their hands in his head. His mom has been braiding it for him since he was in middle school, and he’d found no reason to change routine until you’d randomly expressed interest one day. wc: 702

contains: fluff, fem!reader, envisioned as black!reader but not specified

word bank: “está bien, mi amor” - it’s okay, my love

You were dedicated on teaching yourself how to cornrow/dutch braid specifically for your boyfriend, Miles; having practiced on your little brother a few times before you proposed the idea. And while you could braid normally, you weren’t very well versed in braids to the scalp— those were an entirely different ballgame.

The first time he agreed to sit between your legs, handed you the rat tail comb, and simultaneously reached behind him to tug on his hair-tie and release his hair from the low ponytail it was in, you quickly understood why he kept it braided back. It was massive, and there was so much of it. Even with the sides of his hair faded you were still trying to figure out how it had this much volume. His curls were thick, coily in some places, silky and curled in others, falling just a bit below his shoulders. Hell, you were almost jealous.

It was as if he could read your mind from his seated position on the floor, his back to you, legs criss-crossed and you on his desk chair. “I got a lotta hair, huh?” He nearly felt the act of your hands experimentally hovering over the area, a chuckle falling from his lips before he asked you, “You sure you got it, Mami?” He turned just slightly to peer over his shoulder. “I can always ask my moms to-“

You hastily cut him off, “No, no!” Sounding a little more enthusiastic than you planned, heat spread up the expanse of your throat as you cleared it and sat up straighter, managing to instill some confidence in yourself. “I wanna try.”

And he’s more than willing to let you. You’re his girl after all, basically the only person he trusts other than his mother, so with a surrendered raise of his hands, he nods and leans back once again. “Aight then, do ya thing.”

It took a little longer than some simple braids should, and when you finally finished and reached forward to offer him the hand mirror, you had to restrain from anxiously nibbling at the skin on the inside of your lip. “How’d I do?” You queried quietly, hands gently resting over his lean shoulders.

You watched closely as he turned from cheek to cheek to look over your work in the mirror, brows raising in slight disbelief his bottom lip sticking out in a manner of approval as he nodded. “Damn, Ima little surprised, can’t lie.” He quipped, giving as much of a smile as someone like him gave. “You sure this your first time doing this?”

“I practiced on my little brother once or twice.” You shifted in your seat, the apples of your cheeks tight from your growing grin.“They’re not nearly as good as how your mom does them, though.” Your head tilted as you examined the plaits.

“No, está bien mi amor. They’re perfect, I fuck with them.” He set the mirror down next to him, leaning his head back to rest on your thighs.

“Really?” You felt excitement bubble in your stomach, heart swelling with pride as he expressed his satisfaction.

“Mhmm,” He hummed, long lashes fluttering up at you. “But what I like more is how you learned how to do it just for me. You gon’ be my new hairstylist, hermosa?” He licked his lips, and instantly you were distracted, his accent clinging onto his words as they rolled off his tongue.

You accidentally tuned out his question for a second, the smirk on his face and the way his eyes held contact with yours so intensely had your mind genuinely trying to wrap itself around how he looked this handsome even while upside down. “Hm?” You blinked away the thoughts, blushing when his impish grin widened, pearly whites peeking at your inability to concentrate. “Oh!- Yes… If you want me to be.” You nodded, a smile painting your face to match his.

- please do not copy, plagiarize, or repost my works on any other platform.

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated!!

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 24

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 23

Warning! My AU is yandere and can involve gore. Sensitive topics appear in this series. This chapter is a bit bloody but not that bad.

In all honesty, you never expected to be the one to say ‘no’ to a proposal. Love wasn't something you frequently chased, and being a heartbreaker was even farther from your mind.

Maybe that's why you laughed so merrily at Zhongli’s face when you rejected him.

Then again, he wasn't proposing his heart, nor his love. Morax, Rex Lapis, or rather  Zhongli was offering an alliance of mutual benefit.

“What's your reasoning for rejecting my proposal? I may not marry you as the Geo Archon, but I'm not undesirable as I am now.”

He takes a moment to think as his fingers taps on his chin. The way the diamond of his iris shrinks and the slight grimace on his face raises a red flag in your mind. 

“You aren’t rejecting me solely due to the fact that I’m not operating as this country’s Archon are you?”

.

.

.

The smile on your face becomes tight as your hand shakes with the unmeasurable amount of effort to not flip him off right there. Just what did you do that could have caused such a stupid reasoning to come from his usually smart mouth?

“What the fuck made you think that I even gave a shit about you being an Archon?” Well maybe you couldn’t hold your tongue, but granted you didn’t really need to either.

The man bristles, but ultimately doesn’t answer your question, choosing to instead repeat the first question. “Why are you rejecting my proposal, then?”

“Because you don’t love me.”

“I could learn to love you.”

“But that goes against the terms and conditions of what a marriage is supposed to consist of.”

This brings Zhongli to a halt as he stews on your answer. With a smaller voice, he continues, “The legalities of our marriage would be decided on what vows we utter during the ceremony.”

“Not according to the Creator.” It’s like saying ‘no you’ in an argument, especially with how Zhongli’s face contorts into clear annoyance. 

“With what proof do you claim that as the truth? Nothing in any scriptures on Teyvat says that.” He seems to realize what answer you’ll give him even before you open your mouth by sighing.

“Because I’m the Oracle.” The self-satisfied smirk on your face is clear as you step closer to poke his chest. “Unless you’re suddenly going to claim that I’m wrong? Should we cut off another limb? Maybe your pitiful rat-tail as an ornament to decorate it.”

He pushes you away by your head, the material of your mask is cool under his fingers as you let him push you back with a laugh. He tsks at your antics and smoothly replies.

“Have you finished laughing? There’s no need to pick at my appearance when I wouldn’t do the same to you, whenever you would have shown me your face once we wed.”

Light laughter calms down into a brief hum as you take in his words. It’s all just a well-timed cover-up for the internal panic that you had at realizing that marrying him would mean being forced to reveal yourself one way or another.

“Fair point. Do you really want a serious answer from me anyway?” The swift conversation turn doesn’t go unnoticed by Zhongli, but he concedes by answering.

“Yes. Your reasoning may bring me more information on the Creator’s personal beliefs, or even aspects of humanity that I failed to learn firsthand yet.”

“Like rejection?” The smart-ass reply is met with an unimpressed stare as he comments. “Humorous, but not incorrect.”

“I wasn’t completely joking when I said that it’s mostly due to the Creator. Marriage in Liyue at least is mostly decided by the parents.” Your chapped lips become a bit more manageable to speak with as you lick them. “I don’t remember mine, and the closest thing you have to a parent is the Creator themselves, or maybe Teyvat?” Which was a weird thought, but you couldn’t really be sure how to view it.

“Therefore your marriage, or at the very least, my marriage, considering that I was personally sent on a mission by them, should be under the Creator’s control and only theirs. My opinion on it shouldn’t matter.” This was how you remembered China’s history worked, so Liyue hypothetically should have a similar system.

Zhongli’s frown deepens at your answer as you shrug your shoulders. As if you didn’t just make this whole answer up so that you can avoid marrying the ticking time bomb that wouldn’t hesitate to murder you in a split second.

Sure, there was increasing evidence that your acolytes gained this weirdly strong attachment to you, but you weren’t betting your entire life on it. The moment the mask was gone, your life was going to follow it.

“Then it seems I can do nothing but accept your teaching. Thank you for enlightening me on a topic that I was unaware about. Can I chalk this up to something you learned about from the scriptures written in Cloud Ret-”

He cuts himself off as he looks down at the bustling streets below the balcony. “Xianyun’s old abode? The one’s written in indecipherable language?”

Damn, you really forgot about Cloud Retainer’s humansona. Just thinking about accidentally running into her during your visit to Madam Ping makes you irritated in advance.

“No, there are other scriptures that the Creator led me to when I was exploring.” You didn’t want Zhongli trying to trace it back to Cloud Retainers introvert cave. In fact, it was more entertaining to visualize Zhongli searching every nook and cranny of Liyue’s vast lands for said ‘scriptures’.

The sun hits your eyes directly from its position as you try to guess the time. It had to be at least 3:30 at this point, right? Just how much time did you have to see Madam Ping before the dinner with Ningguang?

Who were you even kidding, you didn’t know how to tell the time by the sun. You’ll have to ask someone once you finish rejecting Zhongli.

Noticing your far off gaze and attention no longer on him, Zhongli let the petty, unexplainable indignation at the action simmer as he forcefully turned your body to face the door.

“I believe I’ve taken up more than enough of your time. You’d best be on your way to whatever task may be next on your schedule today.”

Now you feel pretty bad about spacing out like that. “Sorry Zhongli, I was just trying to figure out the time-” Your words seemed to go ignored as he pushed you out the doorway.

“Don’t bother worrying.” Is his brief response. The touch and pressure of his hands is firm and reliable in a way you can’t fully describe, before they’re removed swiftly as if he was burned. “Instead, you can focus on relaying your gratitude the next time we meet.”

Before you can question the strange sentence, the door is already slammed shut in your face. The whiplash of his actions settles as you stare at the wood in bewilderment. Instinctive, your feet lead you back down the stairs as you toss Zhongli’s sudden attitude and words in your mind.

Surely you weren’t that rude? You’ve done and said much worse things to him after all. Replaying your conversation yielded no new revelations, so with a sense of unease, you decide to take his push for your departure as his weird version of sulking.

What he expected you to thank him for wasn’t something you were going to worry about now. The sun shines on you, making the mask a bit warmer against your skin as you exit the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. 

If he didn’t bother explaining what you should be thanking him for, then it must be something either very big or very noticeable. Walking past where the balcony was, you look up and can only spot the empty chairs and simple table.

Time will tell, you suppose.

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

You aren’t completely sure how you expected your meeting with Madam Ping to go, but being stuck inside the temple with your neck being examined carefully by the older woman wasn’t a possibility you had in mind.

“Um, Madam Ping, I’m quite sure Xianyun’s claw marks aren’t there anymore. They’ve long healed at this point.”

“Child, you shouldn’t brush off injuries left by the Adepti so easily. Many can leave varying, strange and frankly annoying effects that can permanently alter your body if not taken care of.”

Sighing, you use your right arm to sip the tea Ping generously made for you, as your left arm was also being examined for any amber fragments from Mountain Shaper.

“You really don’t have to worry. Dr. Baizhu was the one who healed me up, so there’s nothing off about my body.” Ping relents and lets you fix your clothing as she steps away.

It was honestly surprising when she first spotted you and immediately apologized for her Adepti companion's actions. Yaoyao and Shuyu, Xianyun’s youngest disciple, were quick to be corralled away as Madam Ping brought you to one of the smaller rooms for examination.

“It must be an illuminated bird quality to be somewhat violent toward me. Maybe when I meet Xiao, I’ll get an injury from him too.” The joke slips out easily, but when Ping sighs and shakes her head in disapproval, you’re quick to shut your mouth.

“That would be even worse, as the karmic debt can be accidentally seeped into your wound that way.” Each sentence Ping says is clear worry, so you can’t be too annoyed at the slight nagging.

“Even still, I hope you have it in your heart to pray that the Creator forgive my headstrong and stubborn companions.” And here’s the catch. “I’m afraid it hasn’t been long since any of them have been trying this hard to understand humans on a personal level, so they tend to revert into their more proud egos when faced with the unexpected.”

There it was, all the excuses. You were really hoping Ping wouldn’t be the kind enabler that asks the victim to forgive the assaulter under the guise of some excuse. You’ve dealt with more than enough back on earth when bullies actually had abuse and other fucked up shit going on at home. 

Likewise, you weren’t about to put up with it from some ‘illuminated beings’ that had more than enough years to learn how not to be judgmental sad sacks of shi-

“I’ll still properly scold them for you, but it’s the Creator’s opinion that I’m truly concerned about.” Would you get in trouble for punching her? Probably. Yanfei is close with her and the best lawyer in existence.

It wasn’t worth it, you told yourself. It wasn’t worth it to argue with Ping about whether it was okay for the Adepti to hurt you or anyone else, solely depending on how connected they were to the Creator. It absolutely wasn’t worth it to point out how the Adepti’s lack of control over their emotions and harsh judgements couldn’t just be scolded away. And that they definitely weren’t allowed to get away with unneeded violence simply because they’re stubborn.

The building tension as Ping continued to ramble and your death grip on your pants was broken by Yanfei walking in while looking off to the side.

“Granny, I heard you came - Oh. Hello there!”  Yanfei’s casual greeting had you melting back into the oracle position as you smile calmly at Yanfei. 

“Hey, nice to meet you. I was just talking with-” You’re cut off by Ping moving to stand in front of Yanfei and begin to explain and introduce you. Including the fact that the other Adepti attacked you and that you were the oracle.

Well, it’s better than you retelling the story. It’s better to let others lie for you, especially considering the close relations. It’s not like Ping’s way of speaking was fast or overwhelming, it just felt like you would be wrong for whatever reason if you tried interfering.

Doesn’t stop the surge of annoyance, though.

Deciding to just leave as soon as possible and not get into a fist fight with a hidden Adeptus, you move off the bed and walk closer to the duo. Without much trouble, you’re able to slip past them until a hand tugs your wrist quickly before releasing it.

“Sorry, but I just wanted to introduce myself to you before you leave. My name is Yanfei. I'm the top legal advisor in Liyue.” A business card is handed to you as she speaks.

Accepting it, you examine the card to not be rude before stuffing it into your bag. While you’ll probably forget about it, it’s not bad to have it in case you visit Fontaine. Or if things with Ninggnuang get into legal territory.

What actually got your attention was how Yanfei went through the trouble of cutting off Ping to speak personally to you. Could this be the first Adepti related character to treat you with respect as a normal person?

The fact that you’re amazed by basic human decency is pretty fucking sad. The difference in treatment between her and Ganyu despite both of them being half-adeptus is staggering.

“Thank you. Just as Madam Ping explained, my name is Y/N, and I’m an Oracle for the Creator.” At least the old woman didn’t butt in yet. “Yaoyao visited me yesterday to meet her. I just didn’t expect to meet you here as well.”

“You suit your position rather well.” Her head tilts slightly to the side, making the Mora decorations jingle. “Although I haven’t met you before, just by your appearance alone I can guess that you’re either-” A finger is raised. “A - you’re not from here. Or B - you don’t have a traditional job.” The second finger joins the first as she takes in your appearance in completion.

“I would put inhuman beings or vision holders on the list, but your aura is completely that of a human, but also not one of a vision holder. In a way, you remind me of the traveler.”

“It does make sense.” You reply with a noncommittal shrug. “The traveler was the first Acolyte, and I’m the first Oracle, so there’s bound to be some uncanny similarities between us.” 

Madam Ping wistfully sighs at the mention of the traveler. “Ah yes, the Hero of Liyue. I was able to gift them that teapot, but what a shame that I don’t have another one to spare for you, esteemed Oracle.”

And here comes the half-praise, half-demeaning words that’s meant to belittle you into feeling worthless while giving meager praise to make her sound generous. 

“There would be no need to, since I intend on enjoying our God’s creations rather than hiding away from it in an Adeptal piece of machinery.” A wide grin adorns your face with canines clear to see, but your voice is as excited as a child’s with innocence clear.

Those that hear you would assume nothing but ignorance at fault, but the ones that can see how your eyes dimly gleam with mockery would think otherwise.

Isn’t it so good that Yanfei is by your side while Ping is in front of you?

The words clearly hit a nerve, as Ping’s smile drops into a horribly wrinkled frown. Yanfei’s teal eyes look between you two with a smile that dissolves into a confused furrow of her brows.

“My apologies, child, I was unaware that you were so deprived of empathy for others that you can reduce the hard work of the Creator’s chosen protectors of this land into a symbol of defilement.” The last few words are scathing as her face contorts into a gruesome mess of sagging skin.

“Granny, I understand why you’re mad but-” Yanfei takes a step forward, but is cut off by Ping raising her hand while stepping closer to you.

“I can now understand why Shenhe, that poor pitiful child, was so conflicted about her emotions toward you. I may not understand why the Creator chose a human of your breed to have that holy position, but I can only pray that this journey teaches you a lesson concerning those that you have wronged in this way.”

“Granny!” Yanfei yells in shock as she moves between you two, “How could you say something like that to them? You’re not only insulting them, you’re also insulting the Creator!” 

She turns around to face you as she shots a grimace behind her at the fuming hag. “I am so sorry about this, you should probably go now.” 

Nodding with a sad expression, you speak in a confused tone. “I-I understand. It was nice meeting you and Madam Ping. I hope we can talk again sometime.” Twisting open the doorknob and pushing it open, you sneak one last peek into the room.

Yanfei has her back to you as she yells on a whisper level. Ping doesn’t look all that pleased until her eyes stray to yours. The smugness practically rolls off you in waves as she scorns at you with disgust. 

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

It was official.

You were lost.

Looking at the doors and people walking around you, you tried to remember what path you took with Ping. But each door looked the same, with different people rushing in and out.

None of them even had time to talk to you as they wheeled out screaming and bleeding people from room to room. You got glimpses of dressings pressed haphazardly on wounds as you continued walking.

Surely you still had enough time until Ningguang’s dinner?

Trying not to freak out over the time, you continue marching throughout the seemingly endless hallways and avoid bumping into the doctors, nurses and more that rush around you. Eventually you arrive at an area of the building that looks a bit calmer.

You spot a woman wearing a dress looking similar to a work uniform and decide to ask her for directions leading out of the temple. You’re about to call out to her when she opens a door and enters it while cheerfully calling out.

“Thank you so much for all the help despite your busy schedule!” She continues to walk in, giving a half-hearted push to close it. 

Sneakily, you plant your foot right at the hinge of it, making it stop before it actually closes. A sense of déjà vu nags you as you stand outside the room with your head resting against the wall. You close your eyes to listen to the conversation.

“It’s no trouble at all, Daiyu. I always enjoy volunteering to help those who offer sacrifices to the Creator here.” There’s a light tilt to the voice while remaining sturdy, a good indicator that the speaker is who you think it is.

“Even so, as the Yuheng of Liyue, you still have many duties. Much more than you did when you first began to help out all those years ago…” The anxious woman is met with a brief chuckle.

“As I’ve said before, Daiyu, you can call me Keqing during these times. I’m not here as the Yuheng, but as a servant of our God to learn more.” The faint click of heels can be heard as drawers of what you assume are bandages are opened.

“Well, have you finally come to a conclusion? You know about whether self-mutilation is an ‘overdone’ and an ‘inferior’ way of worshiping the Creator?” The question is met with brief silence before Keqing responds.

“I’ve already made up my mind around the same time as Rex Lapis’s death. Self-mutilation isn’t exactly wrong per se, but it should not be our main way of worship. Our bodies were painstakingly crafted by the Creator’s hands and should not be abused. It’s why I’ve strived to keep myself in perfect shape.”

A sigh can be heard with an almost bitter note.

“But humans can not regrow lost limbs. Thus, I do not believe self-mutilation is the best way for humanity to worship the gods. Blood offerings and even human offerings of other criminals can be done, but I believe that self-mutilation should be left for extreme sins and for the Adepti to present.”

With eyes trained to the blood-stained floorboards beneath your feet, you push yourself off the wall. It seemed you weren’t going to gain any useful information from here. 

“The public won’t accept that kind of view that goes against what we’ve been taught for thousands of years. Then again, that never stopped you before - Aw, damn it! There’s barely any medical supplies here, too.”

The tapping of your feet walking away is concealed by the clicking of heels.

“There’s nothing left? Ugh, probably Ningguang again. She’s always doing this stuff.”

But perhaps you should have stayed just a bit longer. 

“The Tianquan?! Oh, please don’t let her know what I said! I quite like my job!”

“Relax, Daiyu, she wouldn’t care about your complaints even if she did hear them.”

“Then why are you frowning like that?”

You never know what you might hear.

“It’s just a bit strange to me. Not long ago she was doing all sorts of planning with an annoyed expression, but this morning she was pleased. She must have either taken care of whatever was bothering her or hatched the perfect, foolproof plan for it.”

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

Thankfully, you did manage to find your way back to the first floor. (When did you even walk up the stairs?) Most of the people there were rather calm, with incense and prayer rooms decorating this floor. 

The smell was of cinnamon and something with a strong woody scent. The one’s in the prayer rooms had healed scars exposed, either doing a full floor bow or at least on their knees.

If they had them, at least.

It was a gruesome sight if you were to be honest. Some had skin raw red from what looked like boil scars, others with self-inflicted writing carved into their skin. Words like; ‘Holy One’, ‘Savior’, and the most popular one of all: ‘Beloved Creator’ were in some way permanently branding their skin.

The wind blew from a certain hallway, as if Teyvat was trying to finally lend you a hand in leaving this temple of smoke and blood. Taking long strides past the rooms that muttered and screamed at varying levels and intervals, you see a set of wide doors.

WHAM

The whir of a sliding door before it slams into the doorway is all you hear before a hand is wrapped firmly around your wrist and pulling you into the dark room. Your breath is knocked out of you as the soles of your shoes search for purchase.

Your hands reach up to where you were grabbed to dig into the scalp of your assailant before you both fall to the ground from the struggle. 

“Let go of me!” You grit out as the slender fingers continue trying to pin you down. A feminine grunt of pain is heard as you finally manage to push her away, making your assaulter hit the wall.

Like hell! You weren’t just going to leave after being attacked for no fucking reason. Rushing forward, you pin the person against the wall as your eyes adjust to the dark room. Silvery hair can be seen in a tangle between your fingertips as you hold her wrists against the wall.

“Shenhe, what the fuck were you thinking? Are you still pissed at me? I thought we cleared it all up.” With a mix of anger, disbelief and pure confusion, you stare at her face as her features slowly become more defined.

“I just wanted to see you again…” The kicked puppy look is not suiting the bloody bandages wrapped around her left eye. Or what used to be her eye. “I didn’t hurt you this time.”

“Dragging an unsuspecting person into a dark room isn't not hostile either, Shenhe.” She simply stares at you in silence, as if she’s incompetent enough to not understand your words. “We almost fought to our deaths last time we met. How am I not supposed to assume that you’re trying to hurt me?”

Shenhe’s head drops a little bit as her mouth opens and closes repeatedly with no success. After giving her a moment, you sigh with a hint of annoyance and let go of her. “I have to get going, Shenhe. I'm not going to sit and wait forever.”

“I’m sorry.” You glance back down at Shenhe as she sits on her knees with her hands clenched tightly on her thighs. “I’m sorry for hunting you down so insistently while framing you as someone who wronged me on a personal level.”

Could you really accept this apology when you did stab her first for killing those Hilichurls you were friends with? Then again, they did give you liquor while Shenhe convinced herself that you were an evil entity. “Thanks for the apology, but that still doesn’t change much. I spent days in Bubu Pharmacy trying not to die from all the shit you and Yelan put me through.”

“I already heard about it and saw the vivid details of your healing progress while I waited outside your window that day.” Those words alone had you whipping your head around to her as your jaw dropped.

“Shenhe, what the hell!?” She staggers back to her feet with a worrying sway before taking mute steps towards your shocked form.

“A good partner is one who is attentive and keeps detailed track of their lover's affairs and health, correct?” Trying to wrap your head around the twisted logic she presents you with, you bury your face in your hands.

“Yes, but not in the context of our relationship.” You stress as your arm automatically reaches out to stop her from swaying to the ground. With your hand firmly on her arm, you continue to speak. “I know that you don’t really use that word often considering Xianyun’s teachings, but it’s pretty fucking important.”

A sole iridescent blinks lazily at you before her whole body weight is pressing down on you. It’s less of a hug and more like a ‘glomp’. Deciding to hold her by her waist to prevent being crushed by the pure muscle mass that made up her body, her forehead rests on your shoulder.

It’s burning. Definitely unusual for a Cryo vision holder.

“Shenhe? Shenhe can you hear me?” You ask as her glazed over eye stares into yours with no recognition seen in them. Swinging your head around, you finally spot a blood stained coat off to the side.

“C’mon, Shenhe, just work with me a bit to get you back to bed.” You spit out as you carry more of her weight to avoid dragging her on the floor. Thankfully, she helps out by wrapping her legs around your body and despite the slight constriction, you still manage to carry her back to bed.

Dropping her on the bed, you carefully fix her up. Brushing her hair out of her face, pulling the covers back over body, and adjusting the surrounding bandages around her injured eye to fit snugly. 

She did apologize after all, it would be cruel of you to leave a person with a fever and probably an infection a mess on a bed. 

That didn’t mean you were going to stay and nurse her back to health. Ningguang was probably at the restaurant at this point, and you weren’t going to be late for it.

Turning around, you take a quiet step toward the exit until a hand wraps frantically around your wrist.

“You forgive me, right?” Heavy breathing fills the room as her sweaty skin clings to the little contact she has with you. “I apologized sincerely, I’ll do it again if I must.” A trembling eye stares into your soul as her voice breaks. “Please…”

You stare down at the disciple with an unreadable expression until a smile breaks out onto your face. Shenhe’s grip loosens as hope begins to light up. Your other hand gently removes her fingers from your wrist before you whisper.

“Why don’t you sleep on it, Shenhe?”

Her eyes slide shut from pure exhaustion as you walk away and exit the room. After taking note of the room number, you resume your short walk to the exit. A nurse is nearby and just as you pull one of the wide doors open, you lean in to whisper a brief message.

The door closes shut behind you as the nurse rushes away. With careful footsteps, you walk leisurely toward the Xinyue Kiosk. The burning stares of civilians and soldiers alike are rolled off you in waves.

It was pointless to fight with the puppets when the puppet master invited you to meet her.

A feel like this part took forever. It's just the beginning of my spring break before I have another quiz and exam. So my break is just more studying, wonderful. My editor didn't need to do much considering the small size but I also feel like this wasn't the best of my work. I did write piece by piece every few nights when I got back home dead tired. I really can't wait for this semester to end…. But I'm also really excited to get started on the dinner with Ningguang! Taglist is always open!

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255, @melpomenelurks, @average-yandere-enjoyer, @mnhao, @fuji-sen, @altumsomnum

[thrasherella]

Cat!hybrid girl seduces mouse!hybrid boy at a house party

...

She'd been with a rat before, but never a mouse, and he was definitely a mouse, no mistake. Those large, velvety soft looking round ears, short stature; he was a good foot shorter than her, and just a little bit chubby. So small, but so goddamn cute.

She couldn't help herself.

They had momentarily locked gazes from across the room at the party, pupils dilating in her bright green irises as a small smirk tugged the corners of her lips, whiskers twitching slightly as she maintained that contact with his deep brown eyes and made her way over to him, slinking her way through the small crowd of their friends gathered in the living room.

"Hey,"

"Hey."

She leaned in, supporting herself with her left forearm against the wall, looking down at him playfully. "Enjoying the party?" her fluffy, inky black tail gave a mischievous flick, wrapping around the side of her waist and brushing against his thigh lightly.

He was very clearly nervous, shrinking back against the wall, hands sweaty in his pockets as he looked up at her with a shy smile, a little electric thrum sparking at the spot her tail touched him. Holy shit she's hot, and she's a cat...keep it together man!

"Y-Yeah, just, hangin' out; how about you?" his own long, thin, sparsely haired tail thumped gently against the wall, and she gave a little chuckle, momentarily flashing those sharp canine teeth...

"Oh I'm having a great time," she leaned in closer, practically pressing her breasts into his face as his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, his gaze momentarily dropping to the cleavage popping out of her low cut top. "I can think of a few ways to make it even better though, if you wanna join me for some fun..."

...

A few minutes later she had him in the bathroom, stripping him of his dark hoodie and pulling down his pants, his cock already leaking precum as he sprung free of his fabric constraints. The blush never left his face as he stood somewhat awkwardly in his baggy white t-shirt, jeans around his ankles, his eager dick poking through his boxer shorts.

Fuck why was he so cute?!

"Well, what are you waiting for nerd? Put it in already..." she bullied him playfully, getting down onto all fours in front of him, tail now high in the air as she pulled her skirt up over the curve of her ass to expose her bare cunt to him; she never wore panties.

"Yeah, just like that...mmhmmm, aaall the way..." he followed her instructions, slowly pushing his surprisingly thick cock inside her tight, wet folds, his breath coming out in small pants and huffs.

"Mmmmm yeah, that feels sooo good...pump it in and out, just like that...do you think you can go harder? Oh fuck yeah, mmhmmm...right there, keep going..."

[luxthestrange]

Avatar Incorrect quotes#17 They Like drama-

Na'vi Introduced...To Telenovelas/Soap Operas...

Y/n*Inside your cage, holding makeshift toys, holding a twig with googly eyes*Rebecca, you are the prettiest girl in Brooklyn!

Y/n*With a fancy female voice holding a fruit....with googly eyes* *Thank you, Sir Jeffers~

"Jeffers": Will you accompany me to-the-mysterious wedding today?

"Rebecca"*turns around*… Nnno.

Orchestra dramatic music

"Jeffers"*Moving Twig* But-But, Rebecca, I love you!

"Rebecca"*Turns around to face Sir Jeffers*I love you too...I LOOOOVVVMM YOU!

You Sneezes and wipe your nose with your sleeve, Unbeknownst to You, Some Na'vi walk by to see what you are doing

"Jeffers"*Suddenly has at hand a toy wedding ring*Marry me Rebecca!

"Rebecca"*Turns around again*...No

Orchestra dramatic music

"Jeffers": WHY!?

"Rebecca" I…I don't love you! Woopsies~!

Y/n*You scream her name at the sky*-"Jeffers":REBEEEEECCCCAAAAAAAA?!

"Rebecca" I am in love with another

"Jeffers": Who is this maaan!?

"Rebecca" He…is…you

Orchestra dramatic music

Omatikaya Clan*Holding their breaths, some even covering their mouths...And signaling others to come...Mo' at even one of them took notice and sat down...HEAVILY invested*

Y/n*happy gasps and lays now on your stomach*

Omatikaya Clan*All silently sigh in relief and happily grin*

"Rebecca" I love you!

"Jeffers": Marry me Rebecca!

Orchestra dramatic music

"Rebecca" …Nno

Orchestra dramatic music being extra

"Jeffers": REBEEEEECCCCAAAAAAAA?!

"Rebecca": I am in love with your brother

Orchestra dramatic music

Omatikaya Clan*All of them Gasp at the twist...Even Tsu'tey who is leaning on a tree rolls his eyes...but his ears and tail showed he is paying attention*...

"Jeffers": CHAD!? I'll kill him when I find him!

Orchestra dramatic music

Now holding A small bean bag rat plushie pops into the drama

"Chad": OR he will find…you!

"Jeffers" & "Rebecca": Chad!?

"Chad": The mysterious wedding has been our wedding all along, Rebecca and I are getting wed at the wedding today! YOU are not invited! Will you be my best man?

"Jeffers": Of course, brother…I hate you so much

"Chad": Goodbye brother! I'll see you at the bachelor party!

Sad Orchestra dramatic music

"Rebecca": Goodbye, Sir Jeffers! I will always love you...

Chad and Rebecca leave leaving Jeffers alone...

Y/n*Holding Sir Jeffers to your face hugging it with a sad whisper*Rebecca.....

Omatikaya Clan are all crying on the grass with heartbroken gazes...Mo'at even blew her nose into a clothed tissue you gave her

[koisuko]

Pov: You are a cat

how the mk1 characters react to you as a stray cat, one with an oddly familiar/fitting name

part 2, part 3, part 4, bonus

ft: Liu Kang, Shang Tsung, Raiden, Kung Lao

TW: none, fluffy cute stuff, gn, just a lil kitty, I love cats and thought why not

Liu Kang

Liu Kang's surprise was palpable as he entered his quarters and laid eyes on an unfamiliar feline that was playfully swatting at the stringy fabric of a cushion. A warm, gentle smile graced his features as he kneeled down to the cat's level, captivated by its playful antics.

"Hey there, little one. Are you lost?" he inquired with a soft, soothing tone. You, seemingly unperturbed by his presence, turned your attention to the glowing-eyed man before you. Your head tilted curiously, and a soft meow escaped from your mouth. Your ears flicked slightly as you observed Liu Kang in front of you, displaying an unexpected level of comfort around the fire god.

Liu Kang couldn't resist the urge to reach out and gently caress the cat's head. His hands, warm and comforting, ran through the soft, bicolored fur. The cat leaned into his pets, emitting a contented purr and rubbing against his leg. This heartwarming interaction brought a smile to Liu Kang's lips, and he decided to scoop the feline into his arms.

As he held the cat, his eyes caught a glint of metal reflecting in the ambient light, coming from a collar around the feline's neck. Liu Kang couldn't contain his curiosity and muttered to himself, "What's this?" With careful attention, he examined the collar, which bore a name engraved on it: 'Kitana.' His eyes widened slightly in recognition, and his smile grew even warmer. "A lovely name, Kitana," he said affectionately, holding the feline closer to his chest.

Shang Tsung

The unexpected presence of a random cat in his laboratory gave him quite the surprise. His curiosity was piqued, and he initially pondered what experiments he could conduct with this unexpected test subject. However, as he observed your lithe and efficient movements in keeping his lab free of rodents, his original intentions began to waver.

Approaching you slowly, he scooped you up under your arms and took a moment to examine you. A sly smirk formed on his face, revealing a dimple. You responded with a soft, unbothered meow as he regarded you. "Well, aren't you a surprise," he quipped.

“I suppose you could be of use,” he stated as he carried you over to his desk and gently placed you down. He ran his fingers through your sleek black fur, his demeanor softening. As you sat facing him, your tail curled comfortably around you. It was then that he noticed a small metal object dangling from the collar around your neck.

"Hmm, and what might this be?" he inquired smoothly, lifting the metal with his fingers to examine it closely. Engraved on the metal, he read the word 'Soul.' You trilled softly in response to his scrutiny, and he couldn't help but smile. "Soul, a fitting name, little rat killer," he said with a smirk as he continued to pet your head.

Raiden

Raiden, known for his affinity for animals, was delighted to see a small white cat bounding over to him, its tail held high in the shape of a question mark. While it wasn't uncommon to spot a cat here and there in the village, this one seemed to visit more frequently. He couldn't help but wonder if it had a home. Kneeling down as you approached, he greeted you with a warm smile, "Hello, little one." His hand moved to pat your head as you leaned into his touch, radiating happiness.

Your playful antics caught his attention as you fixated on a stray shoelace, crouching low and wiggling your body in preparation to pounce. The shoelace didn't stand a chance as you leaped at it, swatting it around with your paws and occasionally giving it a playful nip. Raiden couldn't help but chuckle at your enthusiasm, saying, "Well, aren't you a playful one."

Scooping you up gently, your upper half rested on his shoulder, and you playfully swatted at his hat. A soft jingling sound reached his ears, indicating a bell around your neck. Out of curiosity, he held you in front of him, noticing a small metal piece next to the bell. Upon closer inspection, he read the word 'Storm' engraved on the metal. "Storm, hm?" he mused, and you chirped in response while purring in his grasp. "A very fitting name, little storm," he commented with a smile, holding you close to his chest as you played with the collar of his shirt.

He decided that he wouldn't mind having some company on his tasks. Together, you walked through the village, forging a heartwarming bond.

Kung Lao

Kung Lao and his best friend Raiden were seated at a table in Madam Bo's tea house, savoring the delicious dishes spread before them. Kung Lao dug into his food with enthusiasm, while Raiden ate at a slower, more composed pace. Suddenly, he felt a peculiar sensation on his leg, originating from beneath the table. Pausing mid-bite, he scooted back in his seat and peered down to discover a small ginger tabby, rubbing affectionately against his leg, a soft purr resonating from its chest.

His confusion transformed into a warm smile, revealing his signature dimples. "Where'd you come from, little fella?" he wondered aloud. In response, you let out a rather loud meow and leaped into his lap. "Woah, hello there," Kung Lao chuckled, his hand moving to gently stroke your head. His gaze then shifted to the chicken leg in his hand. Breaking off a small piece, he extended it toward you, "Hungry?" Without hesitation, you snatched the treat from his hand, devouring it with the same enthusiasm he displayed for his own meals. After finishing, you gave your mouth a satisfied lick, and Kung Lao couldn't help but laugh. "Guess that answers my question," he remarked, continuing to pet your head.

You responded with more meows, trills, and chirps, “well aren’t you a talker.” Kung Lao's finger then caught on the collar around your neck, prompting his curiosity. Upon closer examination, he spotted a small name tag at the front, reading 'Shaolin.' His eyes widened in surprise. "Shaolin? What a coincidence, I'm a Shaolin Master myself," he proudly declared, feeling a strong connection with his new feline friend. Once again, you chirped in response and nuzzled into his chest for warmth. Kung Lao couldn't contain his affection and wrapped his arms around your small form. "Adorable, a little Shaolin," he said with a heartwarming smile, holding you close to his chest as he continued his meal.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“I mean, you’ve got to feel a little sorry for them really haven’t you?” Jaskier said from where he was mopping up the last of the evidence of the half dead rat Roach had thoughtfully decided to gift them (the first time it happened he’d shrieked in surprise before Geralt put it out of its misery with a matter of fact “Welcome to country living, city boy”). Geralt gave a non committal hum from where he was warming milk up for Ciri on the stove. The little girl sat colouring at the large kitchen table - too large for two, but that would change when Geralt’s brothers and any guests they decided to bring descended on them.

“I mean they’re just minding their own business like, Oh I’m a hungry rat. Please don’t kill me.” Here Jaskier put on a slightly squeaky voice and held up his hands in imitation of paws, still holding onto the mop, “And then wham one of the last things they see is Roach’s teeth coming towards them. So many teeth.” He gave the resident farm cat a critical stare and received a dismissive tail flick in response.

Ciri giggled at his antics which caused him to grin back at her in return. It always felt like a special sort of personal victory when he managed to coax a laugh out of the little girl.

Despite being together for six months, he was still being introduced to her as her father’s ‘friend’ (which was true enough, they wouldn’t be dating if they didn’t get along) and Jaskier was happy to go along with it. Geralt had explained without revealing too much that the little one had been let down by too many adults in her life already, himself included, and ‘boyfriend’ was maybe just a little too official sounding for the time being (and if he said his heart hadn’t broken a little for the five year old smiling at him from Geralt’s phone, he’d by lying), especially after the shit that had gone down with his ex. Geralt hadn’t gone into detail but from what Jaskier had gathered, the woman had had a hidden agenda in wanting to get back with Geralt and Ciri had almost gotten seriously hurt as a result. Geralt had blamed himself for jumping back into the relationship too quickly and so, any potential partners now had to pass what Jaskier had dubbed ‘The Ciri test’.  

He liked to think he’d passed the first portion with flying colours, the tiny blonde seeming perfectly comfortable with him in public places. Now they were dipping their toes into Jaskier staying in their home for longer periods, with Jaskier having graduated from the guest bedroom to sharing with Geralt the previous visit (the brunette wanting the ground to swallow him up when she happily informed her Uncle Eskel of ‘Daddy’s sleepover’ when the man had dropped by unexpectedly the following morning. Geralt had just shrugged and told him to be thankful it hadn’t been Lambert; who could and would, happily take the piss forever).

“Alright Ciri, put your things away and then go get your bedtime book. I’ll be in in a minute.” Geralt said, pouring the warm milk into a plastic My Little Pony cup.

“I want Jask.” Ciri declared form where she was trying to force the crayons back into their box by the (relatively small) handful, Causing both adults to stop what they’d been doing and stare at one another. This was new.

“You sure you don’t want daddy?” Jaskier asked, looking to Geralt for some sign as to what he should do.

“You do better funny voices. Daddy’s all sound the same.”

It took everything Jaskier had not to burst out laughing at that as he took in the minute eye twitch from the other man at that statement, “Geralt?”

Geralt nodded, “Mind if I stay and listen? You know how much I love The Gruffalo.”

Jaskier snorted and felt a surge of fondness. The lies we tell for our children.

It ended up being a joint effort, with Geralt guest starring as The Gruffalo “On account of you being so, well...gruff.” and admitting to a slightly too smug looking Jaskier and a mostly asleep Ciri that “Yes, Jaskier does better voices for everyone else. Especially Mouse.”

"Everything ok? You’ve gone all quiet on me.” Jaskier said from where he had his head in Geralt’s lap as they watched some mindless Netflix show. “I didn’t overstep did I?” He was suddenly frantic, his anxieties bubbling back up to the surface now that he didn’t have a performance and an audience to focus on, “I know you probably just said yes so things wouldn’t be awkward. I probably should have told her no and come up with an excuse but how can anybody say no to that face-“

“Jaskier. It’s fine, honestly.” Geralt said, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arm in a way he knew calmed him, “I’ve built up something of an immunity to Ciri’s puppy eyes. I would’ve said no if I had a problem with it. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how I might have a question for Ciri.”

The next morning saw Jaskier seeing both of them off with a hug (also accompanied by fishing a stray cheerio out of Ciri’s hair which he had been too tired to question) before heading back to his city apartment and his job as a music tutor.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked, putting her school backpack by the door as he knelt down to help her button up her coat, “You know how Aiden is Uncle Lambert’s boyfriend?"

It had slowly been killing Jaskier not to check his phone as soon as the text notification came through but he was nothing if not professional and he would not check his phone when he was in the middle of a lesson. Thank the Gods he did wait as he was prettu sure he gave his retreating student a minor heart attack with the squeal he let out at Geralt’s message:

‘Ciri has been proudly announcing to her classmates this morning that Jaskier is her daddy’s boyfriend. Much disappointment from the single mums.’

[skylarsblue]

Cat Calling

Content Warning(s): Murder, creepy men, very mildly implied fem!reader (but no pronouns used), blood.

(This took me way too fucking long. Bro, the burn out has been REAL SHITTY. Anyway, this was requested by @lonnielolooington. Forgive me for this taking so long-)

Michael Myers(All)

Michael obviously stalks you most of the time. The longer you two have been together, the less he follows you, mostly because he’s more comfortable doing his own thing. He’s less paranoid about you going to the police and ratting him out. Still, he likes following you, observing your everyday actions. He won’t try to hide from you very much.

Michael’s possessive. That’s a plain fact. You might not interact with many people, but he absolutely hates when people hit on you. He wouldn’t be mad at you in any aspect unless you were actively flirting with someone else. But what makes him livid is when you get clearly uncomfortable, even verbalize your disinterest, and the person continues to try shit. It sends a wave of protectiveness through his veins.(especially if it’s RZ Myers)

He’s pretty unaware of a lot of social issues. He likely never thought about what he’d do if someone he cared about was cat called. Not only has he been living under the assumption that he’d never care about someone like that, he’s also never experienced someone he knows being cat called on the street. The closest comparison he has is the occasional pervert in Smith’s Grove making comments at a nurse. He definitely didn’t like hearing it, that’s true. Not that he cared for the nurse’s, but he definitely doesn’t like perverts. They make him uncomfortable by proxy. (Again, especially if it’s RZ Myers)

Now, watching you get cat called? He instantly understands your concerns about the matter and he is immediately angry. If it’s broad daylight, he’ll hold back until he can drag the individual away in order to kill them. If no one else is around, he’ll brutalize them right away. (More UTC)

Michael had been following you for the past ten minutes on your way to the grocery store. It wasn’t anything new, and at this point, it felt oddly comforting. His presence brought a sense of safety with it. Ironic, really. Walking alone was always a bit nerve-wracking, especially when it was a bit late at night. But you desperately needed some things from the grocery store and gas prices were sending you through the wringer. It wasn’t that far, walking there was completely feasible. Though it didn’t help with your paranoia at all. Michael’s heavy stare did, ensuring you had a guard dog of sorts on your tail.

“Hey baby, how bout I get your number?!”

And there it was. You jumped at the sudden exclaim, glancing in the direction it came from. Michael watched as your shoulders tensed and your face twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. He looked at the man who called out to you. Middle aged, unfit, appearing to work in some form of construction. The section of the street that was torn up gave more credence to that observation. His hands tightened around the handle of the blade he’d taken from your kitchen. Michael watched you cross your arms and look at the ground, walking faster. “Aw come on baby, don’t be a bitch, I can show you a good time!” Michael’s jaw clenched when the stranger called again. You were very obviously uncomfortable, it was plain to see, even to someone as emotionally oblivious as Michael. He could only guess that the man knew this fact and enjoyed it. Michael liked intimidating you, sure, but it was a different circumstance. You now trusted him. Your “fear” with him was now associated with situations you ended up enjoying, you submitted to him willingly because you wanted to. This was not the same circumstance. Even Michael knew when to quit based on your body language.

The man called at you one more time. You kept your gaze down and mentally prayed that he just wouldn’t follow you, not when the streets were dark and lacking of people. It was the sound of a scream and a wet choking that made you stop and look back. Michael hadn’t hesitated to grab the man’s shirt collar and send the knife through the front of his face. You winced at the sloppy sound blood and tissue made when he retracted the blade. Michael slowly turned to look at you, dropping the body. You swallowed and looked around. There was still no one, so you took a moment to mouth your gratitude before turning to run away from the scene. Sticking around would be suspicious and Michael knew that. He’d protect you on your new route to the store and back.

Jason Voorhees

Oh, Jason hates people like this. He despises them more than almost anything. Jason’s naturally against things sexual in nature anyway, but to top it off, Pamela taught him to always respect others. He likely hasn’t seen much of this kind of behavior, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Pamela got hit on here and there when he was growing up. Not to mention any creepy campers that couldn’t keep their hands off the girls in their group.

Two consenting teens/adults having flirtatious interactions makes him upset, but that’s mostly because it feels disrespectful when they’re in his camp. He knows they’ll eventually try to have sex, where he died, and where his mother died. Yeah that’s gonna piss him off. But watching someone pressure someone else into something like that? Making disgusting comments that are unwarranted and unwanted? Pamela’s angry before Jason can even register what’s happening, and if mom is angry, Jason is livid.

Jason doesn’t like people interacting with you anyway. It means there’s people in camp, which leads to complications, and he doesn’t want you involved with the typical visitor of Crystal Lake. Even if you used to be a visitor…that’s different, okay?

He absolutely despises people who are pushy, flirty, etc. So seeing you subjected to such behavior brings forth a rage he hasn’t felt since he saw his mother be decapitated. It’s a lot of anger. He might even need to stay out of the house for a few hours after he’s maimed the person, purely to calm down. It’ll be a bloodbath. Rest assured, they will not make it out unscathed.

The bells had gone off earlier that day, meaning Jason was out in the woods around Camp Crystal Lake, stalking whoever was stupid enough to visit. Your cabin was off the camp, up some paths mostly hidden by the woods, with a view of the same lake. It was the only finished building that had gotten done when some people tried to expand the camp, add more cabins. They of course, failed that task thanks to Jason. You had grown to fill up the time when Jason was gone with things like chores. It wasn’t necessarily fun, but it was better than lounging around, especially when the weather was nice. Not too hot or humid, warm with a breeze. Today, you decided to fix up the outside of the cabin. It was…well loved, so to speak. You’d been helping Jason make it nicer in your time with him. The tiny porch attached to the wooden home had a lot of chipping paint and the amount of splinters it’d given you was unmeasurable. So currently, you sanded parts, painted them, and while they were drying you’d move on. Simple!

Yeah, well, that was until some people in the trespassers decided to explore. It was a rather large group. Jason was currently occupied with another portion of them, he hadn’t seen the group of three young boys meandering their way up towards your house. Probably in their early twenties, fresh out of college. You were only doing some work. Dressed in something to keep heat off, but it wasn’t provocative in any way. Not that it would’ve mattered. You carried the can of paint off the porch and set it on the set of stairs, dipping the brush so you could begin on the railing. Enjoying the sound of breeze rustled trees and chirping wild birds. And then came a sharp whistle.

“Damn baby, nice ass!”

You nearly dropped the paintbrush at the sudden noise. You looked over your shoulder, seeing the three boys chuckle to themselves, motioning at you. It’d been a long time since you had to deal with something like this. That was part of the reason living with Jason was so nice, no one bothered you. Self sustained and independent without having to worry about walking home alone, or someone being in the backseat of your car, or having to change your outfit to avoid stares. As if it was the clothing that was the problem. Nervous nausea settled in your stomach as you tried to ignore them. They were going to die anyway, you didn’t have to be bothered by their comments. “Come on, sweet stuff, lemme show you a good time!” “You wanna make our trip worthwhile?”

The two voices made your shoulders tense. You exhaled shakily and reminded yourself to ignore it again. Maybe it was unconscious, but you glanced at the tree line, subtly hoping to see a stained hockey mask. You set the paintbrush in the can, deciding it might’ve been better to wait out this time wave of trespassers inside. The fact they were moving closer wasn’t helping. “C’mon, don’t be a bitch.” One of them laughed. You backed up onto the porch and looked behind them again. They saw your facial expression change, no longer tense and fearful, more bright and expectant. They followed your gaze. Adrenaline and terror shot through veins as they came to see the hulking figure or Jason Voorhees. You hugged yourself and gave your man a wave. “They tried to touch me, Jason. They also commented on my ass.” You replied. They looked between you and the new threat fearfully. Jason’s shoulders squared and the rage he felt radiated off him like heat from the sun. It prompted the three to run into trap filled woods. Jason stomped up to you first, making you smile. With the porch allowing for a less intense height difference, you leaned to kiss his mask. “I’m okay, just try to have them done before dark. I want to watch that movie with you.” You said softly. Jason gave a single nod and pressed the mouth of his mask against your temple. He then set off into the woods, utterly seething.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is admittedly a flirtatious man, but above that, he is extremely possessive. He’s not shy about it, he’ll say it outwardly. When dating him, you are his. Not in the way someone owns an object, he doesn’t want you to think of it that way, that’s not what he means by statements like that. He means that you’re his special person. You stand alone in a specific spot in his life and he doesn’t want anyone trying to shove you out of that.

Okay, that and he’s insecure, I can’t lie. Especially in the beginning of the relationship. Bo’s never been in a proper relationship, one where you’re both committed and emotionally vulnerable. He struggles a lot at first. So, when he feels he might be an inadequate partner, people trying to flirt with you upsets him.

Now that is a completely different case in catcalling, because that is NOT flirting. That is harassment. Harassment gets him angry for different reasons, obvious reasons. Bo might come across a little pushy here and there but he knows the importance of boundaries when it comes to it. He has the right to try and test what boundaries are okay to push and what you can compromise on. Bo’s your partner after all! Someone calling you sexy from across the street does not have that right, and the fact they’d try such a thing makes him livid.

Bo is an angry man. That’s just fact. If you hold him back, he’ll settle for shouting back while pulling you close to him. If they’re close enough and you don’t stop him? He’s whoopin’ ass. He’s a fighter, that’s just how he is, how he’s always been. He’ll break noses, send teeth flying, he might kill someone if it’s bad enough.

It wasn’t often that Bo took you out on the town, which wasn’t necessarily an issue, but it was still nice when he did it. He walked with his arm around your shoulders. Passing shops that he let you glance at, wondering when you’d pick one to go in, though he was content with just walking. You leaned into him slightly. It only took one glance at him to catch his slight smile that he was trying to fight. “Thank you for taking me out, again.” You said. He glanced down at you and nodded with a soft gaze. “‘Course baby.” He said quietly. You always liked when he was like this, a bit zoned out but happy, speaking gently and calm. He was so used to being rough & angry, seeing him at peace felt like a victory.

You glanced at a small bar and restaurant. “Are you hungry? We could get something to eat.” You said as you motioned to it. Bo opened his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. “Yes you can get a beer, but only because we’re walking.” He chuckled at your response. “Am I that predictable?” He asked while you crossed the street. “For me? Yes. For others? You’re as unpredictable as a Lester’s three AM conversation topics.” You replied, feeling warmth in your chest as he laughed, shaking his head. “Now that’s just plain nonsense, doll. Unpredictable and insane are two separate things.” He opened the door for you. “Yeah, but somehow you got both.” You teased back. The restaurant wasn’t too busy necessarily, but it was clearly well liked, the bar especially. You and Bo glanced at the drink menu hanging on the wall, though you already knew what kind of beer he liked. “Why don’t you find a spot, I gotta hit the bathroom.” He offered. You snorted with an eye roll. “Old man kidneys.” He gently flicked your nose in response, smiling still as he left you to find somewhere to sit.

You knew Bo didn’t like being in the center. He was more extroverted than Vincent, but he was far from social. He liked people he knew. He also hated being paranoid that someone could hear his conversations, even if they were innocent in nature. You stood for a moment, scanning empty tables, trying to pick one that would suit his comfort. He wouldn’t care either way, but you like accommodating him in these situations, it benefited you when he was comfortable. You spotted an empty two-seat table in a corner near a window. You decided to walk towards that, gaze mostly on the floor out of habit. It completely caught you off guard when someone let out a sharp whistle from the bar. It was sudden enough to make you look up and where it was coming from.

“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t’cha lemme buy you a drink?"

You tensed a bit at the comment, frowning uncomfortably. "Uh, no thank you." You said, raising a hand and shaking your head. The man clicked his tongue and scanned his eyes over your figure, making the sense of discomfort even worse. With an uneasy breath, you smoothed out your outfit and went to get the table again. You ignored the mutterings the drunken individual gave to his friend on the topic of your figure. You chose to stare out the window until Bo came back. The thought of Bo helped put you at ease, knowing he wasn't far and he'd never allow someone to hurt you. He made that clear many times. You gasped and jolted when a rough hand hit the table you sat at, making you turn, finding the man who offered you a drink leaning a bit too close. There was no fighting the face of disgust you felt at the heavy smell of a cheap whiskey, cheap whiskey always smelt terrible. "C'mon baby, let a man treat ya. What'cha want? Somethin' fruity? You don't look like a beer drinker."

The sleaze was slurring his words, he'd clearly been here a while. "No, really, I don't want anything. I'm just waiting for my husband to come back." Bo wasn't yet your husband or your fiance, but that's often what you used in your act back in Ambrose. It usually helped keep anyone wanting to push your luck with him or you, keeping them from flirting too heavily or outright assaulting either of you. The man scoffed and stumbled a little. He looked ready to fall over. "I don't see a ring. You lyin' to me?" He accused, making you shake your head quickly. Usually, you had a decoy ring, but since it was a tarnishable metal, you took it off when you had to shower or anything similar. You forgot it today of all days. Anxiety plagued your veins when he roughly grabbed your wrist, mouth open to speak. It didn't last long, however.

The drunk man hit the floor with a small gust of air and the resounding clap of a fist against a cheekbone. Bo stood with a clenched jaw, tense shoulders, and a sneer. If looks could kill, those baby blues would hit like a tank. Quickly, you stood and placed your hand on Bo's chest to prevent anything further, even if you wanted nothing more than to watch him break the stranger's face. His gaze turned to you. "He hurt ya?" You shook your head. "Mostly just gave me a headache from the smell of cheap booze and chewing tobacco. That's all." Bo sighed at your reassurance, but he kissed your forearm anyway, just in case the grip hurt you. "Let's go, I don't wanna deal with some drunken assholes makin' my baby uncomfortable." He instructed. It was impossible to not smile at the statement. He softened slightly at the kiss you placed on his cheek. "My hero." You said, smile genuine and tone teasing.

Vincent Sinclair

There aren't many scenarios you'd be put in with Vincent around when getting cat called. He prefers you stay in the house, and if not there, then in Ambrose. They don't like you being too far just in case something bad were to happen, cat calling and a plethora of other things are one of their biggest concerns regarding you. While they're sure Bo and/or Lester can keep you safe, he trusts himself the most with that responsibility.

That being said, if there is a case where you're cat called or harassed, it'll likely come from a visitor in Ambrose. It's not really surprising. Drifters come from all walks of life, it's bound to bring in a creep or two. Vincent is reluctant to let you help in their schemes, even if they're flattered and touched you'd be willing to. Really, it'd be Bo that encourages it. Which always puts Vincent on high alert when visitors come into Ambrose.

Vincent values you more than they can usually express thanks to their limited speech. However, he often pours how he feels into drawings or poems about you. He's a hardcore hopeless romantic, likes consuming the old classics in romantic literature, and tries to convey his adoration like that. They could never fathom being the type of guy that shouts at others across a street. He finds it both disgusting and tactless.

Now that becomes a whole new set of emotions when it becomes applied to you. Vincent may appear more composed and calm out of the three brothers, but he holds just as much murderous rage as the other two. He can be ruthless, and merciless. When someone is a threat to those they care about? There is no hesitation, he goes for the kill. There won't be any fanfare when the person who wronged you dies.

Vincent was always wary about you helping in the small town, kind-hearted southerners act that Bo & Lester pulled. But, you insisted you wanted to help and Bo made the point that it would help sell it all better. So, after a lot of convincing, he lamented. So, you fell into a routine with the other two brothers. Most days you still stayed inside the Sinclair home, where Vincent was most comfortable with you being. Filling time with chores or a hobby. Visitors really weren't all that common in Ambrose, which made sense, it wasn't even on the map anymore.

However, when Lester called in a visitor, Bo would ask you to head down to look busy in the town. Most of the time it was where you'd act like you were cleaning or carrying something around. Today was no different. Lester called in a group of four young men, probably in their college years, heading into town for the standard. A fanbelt. You left your chore of dirty dishes to clean the station, which was actually cleaning it, rather than faking it. Bo never properly thanked you for it but you knew he was grateful. Vincent would be somewhere nearby no doubt, they always watched you closely, wanting to ensure your safety 24/7. That was why you felt no fear when the new voices came from outside. You were certain you'd be safe. Either these men would die at the hand of Vincent's knives or they'd die with a blast from Bo's shotgun. You put on the sickeningly sweet fake smile that all customer service people had when the bell above the door rang. "Good morning! Welcome to Ambrose, what can I do for y'all?" You asked kindly. It was still a strange effect. Talking to people you knew were about to die, even if they weren't aware of it. Though it was now less disturbing and more so fascinating.

They meandered up to the small counter. "We're looking for an eighteen-inch fanbelt." One said. "Or ya know, your number would be just as good." You fought the urge to sneer in disgust. "Well, I think we can get you that fanbelt. We just got a few eighteen's in a few days back, just haven't hung them up yet. I can go get'em right now." You said in a cordial tone. Bo was up in the church. Vincent was somewhere, but you couldn't be sure where, if he was close enough to see what was happening. Admittedly, it was a bit nerve-racking to be basically alone with four men you didn't know. The young man's friend snickered and nudged him at your subtle rejection. "That's cool. When we get my car fixed, how bout we take you out somewhere?" He persisted.

You fought off an intense eye roll. "I'm taken, thank you. Let's just get you that fanbelt." You repeated, frowning when one of the strangers moved to block the entrance to behind the counter. "Well he ain't here, he doesn't have to know." The first one spoke. You let your frustration show on your face finally. "They would know because I'd tell them. I don't want anything to do with any of you, I'm taken. You can either pay for the fanbelt and leave, or you can leave empty-handed. Those are your options." You hissed, voice sharp and shoulders tensed up. "Ooo, fiesty. That's how you like'em, right Bryce?"

It was shockingly fast as it all happened. The main one, Bryce apparently, went to speak. But all that came out were blood-filled chokes as a long knife blade emerged from his esophagus. How none of them had seen Vincent approaching, you weren't sure. He always had a miraculous ability to sneak around silently, sometimes they used it to startle you, when in a playful mood. Unlike now, in which they used this ability to murder sadistically. You quickly ducked behind the counter as he went for the second one. Vincent was deceiving in his hobbies. You watched him delicately carve and smooth out details in wax, cautiously placed strokes of paint, lovingly and patiently creating artwork on sketch paper, canvas, and sometimes on your skin. Yet they were far from a delicate being. This proved it. You waited as a few guttural screams left the victims, followed by the squelching of muscle being pierced by steel.

You waited until you heard even boot steps come close to the counter. You lifted your chin to gaze up at the wax mask you came to adore, surrounded by long locks of black hair. He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, leaned over the counter, hands a mess with blood. You gave a smile. "Thank you, love." You moved to stand on your knees and peck the forehead of his mask. They exhaled through their nose and gave a little nod. "We should get back home, Bo's gonna be real pissy when he sees the mess you made in his shop." You said fondly, making Vincent nod slowly.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is the most…”sane” out of the three brothers. That doesn’t mean he’s normal, but he plays it the best. Lester is the most likely to handle things like your average person, he goes into public more often, he’s the most extroverted. Etc etc.

He is also the least aggressive. Outwardly, at least. Lester will hesitate and stop himself from doing things like fighting people. He has the most restraint. However, this doesn’t mean he has any less rage than his brothers, it’s just better hidden. He can smile in the face of something that’s making him livid. It’s a little scary sometimes, just how well he’s able to fool others into thinking he’s not angry. When internally, he could be tearing them limb from limb.

One of Lester’s biggest rage triggers? The disrespect of those close to him. (In my pre-movie lore, it’s Victor’s treatment of Bo & Vincent that gets Lester to kill him.) He takes very seriously. He’ll approach most situations with the intent to diffuse or redirect attention. This doesn’t always work though, nor is it always it an option. Someone shouting something lewd at you from across the street will have Lester seeing red, even if he can hold off. In public, he knows better. He’s not as blatant as Bo, he gets into less trouble because of it, he knows not to start a physical fight because it draws to much attention. So he’ll lead you away and shield you. He’s not as confrontational.

But, this does not mean that he won’t act when given the opportunity. If he can manage to find the person off on their own, even if it’s months after the incident, they’ll be found mysteriously beaten beyond recognition. Without anything left but DNA samples to confirm who the body is. Or perhaps Lester will make them unrecognizable from the gore of the roadkill put. He will never bring them to his brothers because he doesn’t want them used in art. Even if Lester’s art isn’t anything like Vincent’s, he takes the concept of art very seriously. Someone who makes you uncomfortable, insecure, upset in any way? They are not worthy of art. And they most certainly aren’t worthy of breathing the same air you do, that’s how Lester feels. He doesn’t make a spectacle of it. But he is ruthless, in a way, it’s an art form in itself with just how meticulously he’ll tear them apart. Hence why his typical breezy demeanor can be so…misleading.

You and Lester didn’t often get a chance to go out on the town. It wasn’t a problem of distance from the city or a result of antisocial behavior. More often than not, it was just because Lester’s job could be taxing on the body. Lugging around dead animals wasn’t exactly easy. After all, some kinds of deer could weigh up to two-hundred pounds. Not to mention the mental aspect. Lester was an animal lover, even if fascinated by death. Picking up deer, birds, and wild rabbits didn’t bother him as much. But every once and a while, he’d come home and immediately seek you out for a hug, all because he had to put a deceased dog or kitten in the pile of corpses near Ambrose. He was a hard working man. Despite his energetic personality, he rarely had the energy for dates outside of the home, even if he tried to do so frequently. Regardless of you saying several times that you were fine with staying home.

Lester was an extrovert. He enjoyed social atmospheres, even if he didn’t go out of his way to talk to every individual he could. He liked focusing on you when out. Listening to you talk about whatever you wanted, occasionally joining in to give an opinion or extended rants about his own likes. He especially liked when you’d both land on a topic enjoyed between you two. He also enjoyed walking during Summer nights, passing busy bars and clubs, enjoying the lessened humidity and the hum of neon signs.

He wasn’t the most intimidating man, but just him being there tended to ensure you weren’t in any danger. He’d proven to you before that he was more than capable of keeping you safe. Aside from that, it was just helpful to not be walking alone in the dark. It often worked well! Though there were those occasional times where someone just didn’t seem to care. “Hey sweetheart, how bout you bring that nice ass over here and give daddy a better look at’cha!” The voice was slurred and masculine. Distant from across the street. At first, you and Lester didn’t even think it was aimed at you. So, though disgusted, you were particularly concerned and kept walking. Until the drunken man called out again. “Ay, I’m talkin’ to you! C’mon baby, ditch your pal and lemme show you a real lay!” He called again. Now it was abundantly clear he was talking to you. You felt Lester’s hand slightly tighten on your shoulder as his face fell.

It was always an odd effect when Lester’s face grew serious and upset. He tended to have a natural scowl when focused, but you were more used to him smiling. This face wasn’t like the one you’d see when he was wrapped up in a task. It seemed like a normal expression on first glance, not pleasant but not abnormal either. It was his eyes that made it so uncomfortable. Deadpan and intense, blue-like green suddenly so sharp it could pierce the air. Freakishly calm. You placed your hand over his which rested on your shoulder as Lester took the man’s physique & face into memory.

He wasn’t good with numbers or letters, but he was excellent at remembering faces. A useful skill. He stopped his stare down when you softly said his name however, face softening slightly. “Ignore him. We can just go home, he won’t try anything.” You reassured. Lester swallowed and glanced back at the drunken stranger. “Don’t mean he should get away with it. Bein’ so fuckin’ rude. Even my ma taught me better than that.” He huffed. “I know, but really, I’m okay. You’re okay. Let’s just enjoy the rest of tonight.” Your words got him to nod and walk a bit faster with you. But, he did not forget the moment, nor the man.

It was a week later when you were taking a momentary break from laundry to check the news that you were caught off guard. Folding one or Lester’s pyjama shirts, the anchor began speaking of a body found in Pearl River. The station wasn’t shy about stating the details.

“We just got information about the body of a man found in Pearl River. Uh, as you can see, there’s a lot of officers out there trying to get as much info as they can. We don’t know the identity of our victim, but we do know that he is a Caucasian male, estimated at about five foot eight. The cause of death has not been technically confirmed but the report includes a lot of injuries. About twenty eight stab wounds, broken ribs and a battered face. We can’t show it here but it’s safe to say that this man’s face is…well, it’s essentially just gone. We’re unclear when his body appeared in the river and so far a murder weapon has not been located.”

You blinked at the screen and slowly turned your head. Lester stood in his Lazy-Sunday clothes, which consisted of an old AC/DC shirt he stole from Bo as a teen and a pair of pyjama pants with small beetles & bees printed over them. Holding the a mug Vincent crafted out of clay, full of warm coffee. He leaned on the doorframe and kept a hand in his pocket, the other raising his drink so he could sip the caffeinated beverage, watching the screen with a familiar expression. “Lester.” He glanced over at you. “Would you happen to know anything about that man in the river?” Though your voice was quiet, he knew better. He smiled jovially. “Not a clue, but who knows,” he shrugged.

“Maybe he had it comin’ to him.”

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas adores you. I just have to make that clear. The fact you’re with him is something that always sends him for a loop, and he utterly adores your entire existence. This is why he takes protecting you very seriously. Be it from everyday things like the rain, a sickness, flying insects. Or be it from people. He’s protective, that’s no secret. It’s why he’s known as “the guard dog” of the Hewitt Family in a way. Not only is he big, imposing, and powerful, but he’s also got a strong sense of familial bond. When he loves something/someone enough to call them family, let alone call someone a lover, he’s going to defend them with his life.

Now, admittedly, the cat calling concept doesn’t work very well when we’re in the movie timeline. Fuller is deserted. There are very few people around to be creeps, which is a blessing and funnily enough a curse. Given those creeps would turn out to be steaks if they were around. So, for the sake of it, let’s say you’re with Thomas before the meat plant shuts down and when Fuller is still a working small town. In this case, there is no shortage of assholes willing to say the first thing that comes to mind. Take it from me, old Southerners, especially old Southern men, will not hold off saying they first thing that comes to mind. No matter how vulgar.

When someone makes a disrespectful comment about you, even if not shouted at you or intended for you to hear at all, if Thomas hears it, it’s going to be an issue. He thinks of you like a godsend. No matter how much of an asshole you may think you are or how chaotic your personality is. You are his angel, period. So when Thomas hears residents mutter lewd comments about you, that alone is enough to send him into a rage. He’s a calm man until certain buttons are pressed. The conundrum of being a gentle soul with anger issues is something Thomas understands well.

Now, Hell forbid someone make you uncomfortable by saying things like this to your face. And Heaven prohibit someone do something more than just a comment. The wrong set of words and actions can make Thomas revolt to murder, if he’s not stopped of course. That’s something you’ll have to do if you don’t want your sweetheart shot by police or thrown in a cell. He’ll still make it clear that you are to be respected. If he has to send that message by breaking an old man’s face? He will. (Oh, and while he won’t resolve to physical violence for Hoyt and/or Monty, he will still make them shit their pants in fear if they make such comments.)

Thomas hated going into town for anything other than work. Plain and simple, people were cruel, they always had been. It’s why it shocked everyone so much when word got out that Tommy got himself someone special. Hell, even Thomas himself was shocked when someone expressed interest in him. In all honesty, your flirting had gone right over his head, mistaken for plain kindness. Though, that alone got him to fall for you, so it worked out anyway. Victory was victory even if it didn’t go as planned. Luda Mae was very happy to learn that her baby had someone interested in him, even if the Hewitts were wary of anyone that wasn’t family. It wasn’t necessarily easy for you to gain their trust, and often times you wondered if you actually succeeded or not, but you managed to be placed in a spot somewhere in their family.

Luda wasn’t going to turn down your help either. When you offered to accompany Thomas for errands, she didn’t hesitate to accept. She wouldn’t admit it yet, but she was getting older, and the more she moved the more she was reminded of that fact. Thomas did heavy lifting jobs. You always insisting on helping, even if he could easily handle it on his own. Still, your presence was never unwelcome by him. He’d keep you at his side 24/7 if possible. He watched fondly as you went about checking your list of things you’d need to bring back. As well as keeping track of your budget. You bent slightly to grab something off a lower shelf in the store you both stood in, muttering right Thomas about the next aisle you’d be going to. Both you and him were alerted to your surroundings when a sharp whistle hit your ears.

You stood and looked towards the source behind you. Two men, roughly your age, maybe a few years younger than Thomas. They chuckled and nudged each other. Your face flushed with a mix of rage and embarrassment when you realized the whistle was directed at you, for your ass, presumably. You huffed as you dropped the item in the cart. “Hey Tommy, you outta send that piece of ass my way, I can show’em a good time!” One grinned. Naturally, you scowled, beyond repulsed. You shook your head and went to move away. However, Thomas didn’t, and that’s what prompted you to stop and look at him. His face showed nothing but disdain. A perfect depiction of wrath. A far departure from your usual blank faced but soft eyed man. “Thomas?” You whispered.

“What? That piss you off, freak? C’mon, Hewitt, you and I both know I can show your pretty lil doll a better time than you.” The young man pressed. You scoffed, only to have your expression drop when you saw Thomas leave his spot beside you. Approaching the vulgar idiots in large strides. It was something so quick, it almost gave you whiplash. Just three minutes ago, Thomas was gazing at you with the gentleness of cloud fluff as he helped you get things off shelves. Now you watched him begin to bludgeon the individual who felt it necessary to comment on your body. The cracking of bone, the clatter of flying teeth, and then dripping of blood. You watched in awe and, admittedly, some morbid fascination. Before it hit you that Thomas wasn’t going to stop on his own.

You approached quickly and placed your hands on Thomas’s shoulders, tugging slightly. “Thomas! Tommy, baby stop! You’ll kill him and then you’ll get in trouble!” You pleaded. He glanced up at you. “Just leave him, you’ve done enough damage.” He glanced at the boy, who was crying and incoherently groaning in pain, occasionally muttering a call for his mother. The brunet stood to his full hulking height. You exhaled in relief and hugged his arm, pulling him away. You rushed to get out of the store with your items before anyone noticed the bleeding man on the floor. Thomas held into some residual anger as you loaded Luda Mae’s truck. You both settled into the three seater cabin of the blue pick-up.

Thomas ground his molar teeth together as he picked at a seam in his pants. He jolted when he felt a careful peck on his cheek, just above his mask. He looked at you. Honestly, confused by your gentle smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. You defended me today.” Your tone made his chest clench. He nodded with an acknowledging hum. He felt better knowing you weren’t upset with him for his outburst, sighing in relief while you started the car. “Besides, I could get used to seeing you whoop ass for me. Since you look so sexy doing it.” You laughed at his sudden wide eyes and jolt at your comment, grinning at the blush it formed. He looked away from you but rested his hand on your thigh casually as you began driving.

[strawhatkia]

luvr boy.

INCLUDES ! izuku midoriya x black!fem!reader

GENRE ! fluff

SYNOPSIS ! general relationship headcanons with izuku !

WARNINGS ! cursing, fem!black! reader, we still in high school y’all, a little uraraka slander (read to understand), edited

WORD COUNT ! 1.6k

A/N ! another repost, i had to break it up bc it was a lot of text - izuku motherfucking midoriya. the blasian himself. isaiah niggadoriya. him with a black female? him with a melanated goddess? i think it god’s greatest gift to give izuku ‘deku’ midoriya a beautiful, melanated, healing black woman and for me to write about it.❤️🥰 also, i hate the way uraraka is written and i will not hold back

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

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pretty boy- the prettiest 

alright!! let’s start with wash day!!

…nigga did not know shit-

 poor baby grew up with inko, bless her straight headed soul, so he had no clue how to probably take care of his hair

all he had was h e a t  d a m a g e

“zuku, how do you do your hair?” “huh?” “like what do you do?” “uh well, nothing really, i just wash it, that’s it.” “…” “what? why are you making that face- IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY HAIR?!?”

everything…everything is wrong…

aight sis, grab yo detangler, rat-tail comb, hard brush, sulfate-free shampoo, co-wash, conditioner, deep conditioner, protein treatment, all your oils, patience, and strength

and for the love of everything that is great- throw away his 3-in-1 before he give me a fucking heart attack

chile- you couldn’t even see his fucking scalp. his hair was so matted and curled up tightly together that it hurt to look at it 

don’t let him go out this house like this no mo, hear me?

but it’s nothing you can’t fix, give the lil boy head some TLC and watch them curls pop!

first wrap that towel around his shoulders, put a pillow on the floor and sit him down in between ya legs and start the marathon of old all might and black people movies you gon’ be there for a while

lil boy would not sit still and he was tender-headed pick a struggle; at this point it was either get popped by you or suffer the pain from his scalp…he chose the latter

mans almost fell asleep while you was shampooing his hair and when you put the hot oil treatment on his scalp- slumber  

after everything, you twisted his hair and gave him a bonnet

“uhm...why are you giving me a hat?” you almost slapped the taste outta his damn mouth

after explaining, he put it on; little did he know it was an expect copy to yours, just a different size

“baby, we’re matching!” ”yes, izu, we are. do you wanna take pictures?” you have just made his night. 

the pictures were posted all over insta and has them pinned on his account you betta bet mina was all in the damn comment section ; later, he would print them out and put them on his desk so he can look at when he sat down or went to bed

when you took his hair down the next day, he went to the mirror and baby had stars in his eyes

“it looks so cool!” “i’m glad you like it, izu”

he talks about you to all might all the fucking time to the point they both know you better than ya damn self

which is really annoying because all might be wanting them "one on one" talks and it will irk you to talk to him because everything will be "but young midoriya said..."

to be honest, he went to all might for love advice....don’t ever let him do that again. mans was using the most corniest lines but since it was izuku, he got away with- tell me you not cheesing thinking about him saying the "roses are red, violets are blue line" with the cutest blush...im waiting

golden hour, his favorite time of the day

this man will drop everything just to see you at golden hour like when the sun is just starting to set, he will rush into ya dorm room just to watch you

it's like therapy for him to see you relaxing under the setting sun and see your brown skin shining, i just feel like this time would be the time he reminds himself that he is incredibly lucky to have you and will literally do anything to keep you relaxed like this

"zuku babes, what are you looking at?" "nothing~" "whew boy you are so far gone" "hm?" "oh! uh...love you !" "hm, love you too~"

side note: ...if you hear a camera click, don't be surprised

izuku loves affection, giving and receiving

his giving love languages is acts of service and a lil bit of quality time; his receiving love language is physical touch and words of affirmation

so it’s important that you meet in the middle and give him praise, shit works like a charm

go up to him, pat and rub his curls and tell him that he did a good job and one of two things will happen

one: he'll tear up a lot and ask if you're sure or two: he'll blush really fucking hard

as for his giving love, he'll just kinda follow you now until he is told to leave. don’t do that. just don’t.

let him leave on his own, you'll make him feel like he's bothering you otherwise 

ask him for cuddles, he’ll drop almost anything he is doing to do so

even if you just drop hints about it, he’ll just smile and just take you somewhere quiet before sitting down or laying down to take a nap with you (nap dates with zuku !)

i think my heart just busted outta my chest i love him so fucking much

if you wanna match his acts of service, when he’s sick or just really busy at hero work studies, take notes for him in class. he will love you forever i promise. 

and best believe, that he wants your attention on him at all times

remember them head pats? let’s say you give them to todoroki or tsu for doing some reason

poor thing is definitely sitting in a corner somewhere sulking

he doesn’t want to get upset because that’s his friends and he's glad that you are getting along but he would be lying if he didn't feel a little salty about it

later on, he will ask for some and if you refuse for any reason, he’ll look at you like you just tore out his heart…cause ya did

and GOD FORBID if you give more attention to bakugo instead of him…it is now in God’s hands

he’s throwing you over his shoulder and walking away from bakugo, not before throwing him a glare which later on ensues another fight between them

he only did it because he doesn’t like you getting too close to bakugo, no matter how much he cares about him being his childhood friend

i would like to think there's always that underlying fact that yes, you can handle yourself, but he also knows just how capable bakugou is and lowkey does not want to risk it

please remind him that you do love him and that he is a good boyfriend with all the hugs, cuddles, and all that other good shit

he loves to write about you in his notes, he has AT LEAST 4 notebooks about everything about you as well as somethings he wish to say to you and a little souvenirs from moments between you two that he found special

he has a special item from the time he figured out that he loved you and wrote down in detail what happened and how he felt about it 

when you find these notebooks, do not, i repeat, DO NOT tell him that you found. just take the damn notebook while you can and run

give it back and you'll never see it again.

but most definitely tell him about all the things you read and watch him turn bright red

“so, you did get jealous when I gave Sero that hug the other day?” “HUH?!?!? H- H- HOW DID YOU FIND OUT!!?” “*holds up notebook marked ‘Y/n L/n’* Maybe because wrote about it…in detail” *cue the screams of embarrassment and horror*

nah but the amount of times the boy has gone off on a tangent about the little things he loves about you in there will get you flustered-

for drama sake, let’s talk about uraraka

short story: you almost knocked that bitch teeth in

long story: yes, deku used to like her and yes, she almost got him but that did not work out and guess who got him first ! tbh, you started out good friends with uraraka apart from the dekusquad but she never told you about her lil crush until it was too damn late !  

and little miss thing was not happy about it; “after all this time…he gets with her!!”

i think you noticed at first her lil sly ass actions and remarks but don’t give in, let her make a fool of herself and watch her run around in circles

be calm and stay two steps ahead, it will work out in your favor ! and it did !

the next person that noticed was tsu, however, she was on your side about this because she hates petty shit and people so what uraraka was doing was not to her liking at all ! 

the other two, iida and shoto, caught on to it (iida wanting uraraka to at least remain civil and shoto just watching from afar) but deku remained oblivious for a while

he just wanted to be friends with everyone so he kinda just...didn't notice or thought she was mad about something else

i feel like uraraka would get beside herself and start saying reckless ass shit to express her frustration but it would only end up with her getting her ass beat and shunned from the group until she got her act together

you can guess what she said but all imma say is….she really lost her god damn mind and paid the price

what's worse is she really did try to make it seem like you stole from her...but dum dum was the one who didn't speak up? until the very last minute? which...sounds like a personal problem? sssoooooo, stay mad?

everyone in class did figure it out and it was just lowkey sad to see her get so messy but in the end !

izuku loves you very much and would do anything for you 

you are his happiness and he’s thinking about spending forever with you

©STRAWHATKIA ━ all rights reserved. all content published on this blog belongs to starsoir. please refrain from copying, stealing, profiting off my works, or using my works for asmr related work. i don’t allow my works to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

reblogs and comments are welcomed and loved, so leave some please ! i will respond ! 🤍

wanna read more ??

lip gloss, lil mama. | f. | multiple characters

boyfriend. | f. | katsuki bakugo

love you more when the day is new. | f. | multiple characters

taglist : @mypimpademia @sevvnt @cosmiles @megurulvr @miirene

izuku taglist: @cosmiles

[swxxtsxcchxrine]

Ello I absolutely love your fics and that you write x black readers (istg no one does)

let's say Miguel the reader have a daughter and he tries to do her hair

hi ml, im so glad you enjoy my writing and yeah its so hard to find black reader stuff so yk i had to take it into my own hands but anyways the suggestion is soooo cuteee 🥺🥺🥺

everyone and their mother knew that Miguel was going to knock you up as soon as you guys had gotten married and were financially stable enough. he made that fact clear to everyone who'd listen. so when you gave birth to your baby girl 3 years ago, it only made sense that he was over joyed. Your daughter had inherited your eyes and lips but his hair colour and nose shape, ultimately creating the perfect combination of the both of your looks. however, it didn't help that both you and your husband were both as stubborn and hard headed as the next and it was made clear that your daughter had gotten that from the both of you.

there's no denying her stubborn and spoilt nature especially when it comes to her doing her hair. it was Miguel's turn to do his princess's hair on this fine Tuesday morning before dropping her off at nursery. he had the rat tail comb, the eden hair brush, the blue magic hair cream and the gummy wax to lay her edges. everything but his daughter. he tiredly descended down the stairs to find you and your daughter prancing around the kitchen to a dancehall mix you had made the other day. "there are my girls," Miguel walks in, hands wide open to welcome you and your small child. "daddy!" your baby cried before running to her father in her freshly ironed school uniform and polished school shoes. "hi baby," he said, stroking her hair. "hey pretty, sleep well?" he walks up to you before kissing you forehead in affection. you nod in contentment and sigh.

"come on baby, we have to do your hair before school," Miguel whispered half expecting his daughter to throw a tantrum. instead, she simply faced away and waddled towards the toy box to get her favourite toy. "princess. we are not doing this again," Miguel said sternly. doing his daughters hair was a constant battle. even just to brush it and put it into a puff is a pain let alone cornrowed hair styles. he sighed in distress. he didn't even know what hair style to give her yet but if worse gets to worse, he'll have to go plain and simple. he internally cursed himself for being too hot-headed and impulsive, but it was too late now. time was ticking, and his baby had to get to school on time today.

Miguel whisked his daughter away from the toy box, not having time for her shanigins today. he sat her down on the chair and brought out the comb. his daughter's eyes became glossy and her pout had reached the floor at that point, but before she could open her mouth to yell and scream for her mother, he put her tablet in front of her with bubble guppies playing in the background. she quickly quietened down, and reduced her attitude to mere sniffles as the man began oiling her hair. he decided to give her to twist on either side with pink bobbles hanging off the end. he parted her hair in the middle with the pink comb, stifling a giggle as she flinched every time the comb touched her scalp. he then brushed out her hair, being careful as to not yank on it too hard. after about 15 minutes of trying his hardest to not trigger his child, he was done.

Miguel wasn't always that good at doing his daughter's hair. he couldn't even do his own. but with patience and your help, it quickly became a stress reliever for him. knowing exactly what products to use and when and even the different hair types, sometimes offering to help you do your hair. although it was hard for him to adjust to, he did it and you couldn't be prouder. your daughter, however, remained tender headed and ever so stubborn so doing her hair was never a bore.

she quickly hopped off the seat and wandered off to the nearest mirror where she gawked at her hair in awe. she did a twirl, playing with the hem of her skirt while her other hand held her tablet. "thank yuh, daddy," she beamed. Miguel smiled. his daughter being happy made him happy. he watched as she went to show off to her mother. "wow! daddy did such a great job, baby,"

[quitealotofsodapop]

Unfortunately for Wukong, he was still visibly upset by the time they got back to the shop and while Pigsy found the ingredients he picked out acceptable (the alchemy and herbalist knowledge helped a lot in picking the best of the stock) he definitely didn't want to risk Monkey Tantrum: Adult Edition when he saw the face of his second most loyal customer. So naturally he asked about it.

Pigsy: What got your tail in a knot!?

Wukong: Nothing! Just... ran into someone at the store is all...

MK: Baba's old friend Liu'er was there!!

Wukong: MK, I told ya bud, he isnt my 'friend' anymore.

MK: But Baba, he seemed nice!

The Demon Bull Family were eating there. After reuniting with Wukong and such, they'd begun to visit the shop for family nights at Wukong's recommendation since it's got great food, a cozy atmosphere, and it gives them a semi-peaceful place to bond as a family again after being separated for so long. So of course the moment they overhear MK talking about Macaque they're all ears.

DBK, in protective big brother mode: That RAT is back!?

PIF, defensive of her brother: Darling, Macaque is hardly a rat.

DBK: After what he did to Wukong? He might as well be. If I had ever had the gall to abandon MY wife in her most vulnerable moment, I would be too ashamed to show my face again!

Wukong, from across the room: Oookay! I think that's enough from the peanut gallery

Prev.

DBK about to bust out 1300-year old shovel talk the second he sees Macaque again. The Stalwarts are his back-up.

Macaque initally believes that DBK is mad at him for stuff that happened along the Journey, but DBK is hirt more by something else...

DBK: "You LEFT him! Left him when he was suffering under that damned Mountain! He had just been tortured within an inch of his lives, and you turned away because your pride was hurt?!" Macaque: "I didn't exactly see you hanging around either!" DBK: "Me and Tieshan were in hiding! Both of our families had just disowned us, and Heaven was out for blood! If I could have kept Wukong from loneliness under that rock - I would have! And when Tieshan fell ill while carrying our..." (*has to pause as he starts to tear up*) Macaque, realising that he Really Messed Up: "You're... you're not one for crying Brother Bull... aren't you pissed that you missed out on 500 years of your life just cus Wukong deemed it?" DBK: "Time has changed me. Wukong was forced to deal with my rampage to the extent Heaven allowed. Sealing me away was a necessary evil to prevent my execution." Macaque, becoming quiet: "...he didn't spare me that mercy." DBK: "Then perhaps you gave him no other choice in the matter. Have you considered that?" Macaque: (*silent*) DBK: "He mourns for you, Liu'er Mihou. Has for over a thousand years. He's told your stories hundreds of times to ensure his child grows up knowing your heart. It's about time you repay his devotion." (*Bull leaves, leaving Macaque to dwell upon his actions*)

I love DBK being a protective big bro, and Mac being forced to see the error of his actions >:3

[jiejies-corner-store]

his reaction to you getting hurt (nsfw)

§ pairing: zandik (il dottore) x fem!reader

§ summary: il dottore while only tolerate to see cuts and bruises on you done by his own hand. so when you are retrieved after being kidnapped, he will expend all of himself to fix such a grevious error.

§ tags/cw: spoilers for genshin sumeru interactibles, use of dottore��s speculated name, nsfw, unintentional self-harm, ptsd, anxiety attacks, graphic depictions of torture, body horror, dottore himself, kidnapping, broken bones, medical content, unintentional gaslighting (?), slight medical fetish, cunnilingus, spit-swallowing, cum eating, breeding (probably), possessiveness, biting, dottore’s fat kok, desk sex, office sex, belly-bulge, sex written by an asexual virgin.

§ notes: this is atrocious i’m sorry

§ word count: 3.9k

IL DOTTORE (ZANDIK)

• In all honestly, if it were Dottore’s choice, he wouldn’t be standing in his lab this late at night watching as the Treasure Hoarder’s organs was being replaced with a ruin guard’s inner working when he could be in bed with you.

• The thing kept whimpering incessantly. The work was messy, even by his standards. The wires weren’t perfectly aligned nor were the cuts he had made. He didn’t care at this point. All he wanted was for you to be in his arms.

• It’d been a long week, but if it meant you would be able to look at him without having violent flashbacks of being attacked, kidnapped, and tortured, then it would all be worth it.

• Speaking of,

“Are you ready to croak?” Dottore hummed, running the scapel along some veins in the treasure hoarder’s chest. “It would be a deal more convient if you went ahead started talking. Your friends didn’t hold up so well when it came to this part and I don’t have high hopes you would either.”

The treasure hoarder’s eyes had glazed over slightly from the hours of pain. Most of his less vital veins and nervous system had been replaced with oil tubes and wires. Dried blood decorated the table from where Dottore took his sweet time cauterizing each incision.

He scowled. The Treasure Hoarder had stopped begging for mercy a while ago and now he wasn’t sure if it was still lucid enough to speak. His blood boiled thinking about you. How long was it before you stopped calling out for help? How long had you cried for him to come save you, only for there to be no response? Sure, he did find you and he did save you eventually, but by then it was too late. They had already bruised your beautiful face, and cuts littered your skin. The ones that hadn’t turned tail and fled the second they heard he was coming were not spared from his wrath when he arrived. There was no body to identify when he had left the scene.

Annoying whimpers came from the Treasure Hoarder’s chest. Dottore ripped the adhesive cloth off its mouth. This was one of the ones that had run. Of course, Dottore hunted down each and every one of the filthy rats who had a hand in your suffering. For the ones who fled like cowards, he managed to control himself and prolong their torture by letting them become test subjects. The weaker ones he sent to Arlecchino for the children’s target practice. A gesture of goodwill for her assistance in tracking them down.

The Treasure Hoarder started yammering out nonsense and Dottore scoffed, pressing the scapel down into its chest to prepare for some remodelling. It shrieked like a stuck boar and then started making sense of its words.

▪ What Dottore heard from the test subject did not make him happy in the slightest, neither did it surprise him, but he was really hanging onto the hope that it would be a simple, clear cut case—that he’d be able to shower the blood off himself and find you in bed while his segments finished up the work.

▪ Unfortunately it seemed it would be a long, long night. The treasure horder finally revealed that it was in fact someone else who had put them up to it. Planted the idea that they could profit off of the entire endeavor, and even gave them all of the intel they needed to carry it out.

▪ After cleaning the blood and viscera from his body and changing clothing, Dottore stopped by your shared bedroom and peered at your bandages. He held his breath waiting to see yours. Only when he saw the slight rise and fall of your chest did he relax. He carefully changed the bandages and examined the deep gashes in your sides and arms. Those, were not from the Treasure Hoarders.

▪ The memory still played fresh in his mind:

“No—no no! I’m sorry—“ you had sobbed, curling yourself into a corner of the bedroom. Your eyes darted from side to side like a wild animal. It was a sight he was used to seeing from his test subjects but not you—never you. He would never raise a hand to you. “I promise I won’t—I won’t cause problems please just—don’t—“

“My love,” Dottore said, his voice barely carrying through to you. He held one hand out as he slowly approached, trying to ease you back into bed where he could calm down. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I was upset the papers were moved. I didn’t mean anything by it please just—“

His words weren’t getting through to you whatsoever. The more he spoke the faster your breathing got, and the tighter the knot in his chest got. He was getting anxious waiting for you to come back to him. He took one step toward you and you just lost it. Your breathing was in triple time as you rushed towards the glass window, hurdling your full body’s strength and weight at it and shattering through the panes. Everything from there happened in slow motion. He was helpless to watch you—you, his one vulnerability—fall from the second story of his manor, glass shards creating deep gashes in your arms and legs all to be met his a sickening crunch as your body hit the snow.

Guards and waitstaff immediately swarmed you like ants and Dottore stepped away from the window. He didn’t care about the price of the stained glass, or how much of a mess there was on the floor. Your body lying on the pristine white snow—your blood seeping out into the surrounding ice—was branded onto his memory.

• It was at that point Dottore knew that he had to do more than just find the men who hurt you. He had to annihilate them. Any trace of them would be wiped clean from this earth. Everything for that matter, and he meant everything, that threatened your safety would be eradicated. That was the only way he could ensure that what happened that snowy morning never happened again.

• So as he watched you sleeping figure, arms and legs wrapped in casts and bandages he couldn’t help but feel even more stirred on to complete his goal. He hazarded a gentle kiss onto your forehead and went back to his lab to do more research. He would find out who dared threaten a harbinger’s darling and he would make them pay.

Days went by, then weeks, then it was a whole two months since the treasure hoarder had spilled all of his secrets. The pathetic thing didn’t last long after that. Dottore’s Segments ripped him to shreds. If there was one thing that was universal about all Dottore clones was a fiercely protective love for you. Of course, there was no one on all of Teyvat who could possibly love you more than Dottore Prime. However, for the entire stint of your recovery, only the younger segments of himself could even get near you. Dottore himself and all of his older segments made you clam up. It put you on the brink of another attack. Worst of all and what made the least sense was that Dottore Prime, the original, THE Dottore, made all of these anxieties hit their vaporizing point. As badly as it hurt him to have to allow his other segments to take care of you, he let them because it was in your best interest.

However, surely as the night must give over to day, you began to heal. In both senses. That morning he helped you dress and suggested that the two of you spend a day out together.

He knew you were getting cabin fever, and there was only so many things he could do to entertain you in his lab. So on this rare day that he gave himself off he decided to take you to the capital for a relaxing date out of the house. You seemed calm. Not exactly happy, but at least you weren’t on the brink of another panic attack. That much Dottore was grateful for.

Ever since that day, Dottore had been extremely careful about what he said around you. He wasn’t sure what happened in that stint that you were kidnapped, but whatever it was it left you haunted. He made sure not to say anything about messes, needing to fix something in the lab, or—strangely enough—being home for dinner. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was about those three things that set you off, but he made damn sure he didn’t ever bring it up in conversation.

You reached out to pick up a small trinket while Dottore kept his eyes on the vendor. Just as you had leaned forward enough to be vulnerable, Dottore the vendor move. He immediately pushed you back into your wheelchair and pulled you away from the vendor.

“Zandik!”

The man blinked. How many times had you called his name? He’d completely blacked out. His actions had gone to autopilot. Your eyebrows were knit with concern and you slumped back down. “Maybe we should just go home. I didn’t mean for this to be stressful for you. I only asked because I thought…” you trailed off, “Nevermind… let’s just go home.”

Zandik opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it when he saw the tired expression in your eyes, and he didn’t have it in himself to argue with you.

• He began returning much later in the night, long after you’d gone to sleep. The bags under his eyes only grew heavier with each passing week. He grit his teeth and began unbuttoning his dress shirt to yank his tie off. Each time he had a promising lead, it was like it set him back another week. One step forward and two steps back.

• As he climbed into bed he noticed dried streaks on your cheeks. He carefully thumbed one and watched as you whined and shifted away from his touch, fresh tears springing to your eyes. You subconciously turned away from him, and even though he knew you didn’t mean to, his heart shattered all the more.

• He got up out of bed and pulled his labcoat on over his shoulders, heading to his office. He would not allow himself to sleep until he could tell you that this world was safe for you. Until he could say every thing that could possibly harm you was wiped from existence. He would not allow you to die. He would not allow you to be taken away from him like the rest of the good things in his life had been. You were his only vulnerability. The only person who didn’t shun him. And come abyss or high water, he would fucking protect you.

• Maybe then when he laid in bed with you, you wouldn’t cower away from his touch. Maybe then you’d know that he was your protector. Your guardian devil. He would burn down the whole of Teyvat and Celestia to ensure your safety.

• Various papers were scattered around his desk. Each a profile of a potential threat. Each one opening the door to a whole new world of profiles. He picked up his pen and began working.

He wasn’t sure when, but the door creaked open. It wasn’t until he heard your feet padding across the wood parquetry did he notice you. And Archons, did he notice you. Standing in his rumpled dresshirt and just a pair of your underwear, his breath stole itself away from him. For the past few months he’d been so caught up in his work that he hadn’t seen you. Not really. Not like this. Your arms were still wrapped up in bandages, but the casts had been removed and you’d regained a good deal of your strength.

You said nothing as you approached him and crawled onto his lap. He set his pen down and held you, scooting away from the desk slightly to properly accommodate you in his lap. You curled in sideways, bracing yourself with your back to one armrest and your feet anchoring you in on the other. He brought his hand up to brush some hair out of your eyes and you grabbed it. You flipped his palm over and ran a thumb over the gold band on his ring finger.

There was a bloated pause, before you took in a shaky breath and asked in a fragile voice: “Zandik. Do you still love me?”

Before he could even respond, you continued.

“I… I keep having nightmares. I had another one tonight,” you whispered, continuing to trace his wedding band, “…I keep dreaming that you leave me. That… you just decide one day that I’m too much trouble, and you leave.”

He felt like he’d been suckerpunched by a ruin guard.

Your body began trembling, “This is all my fault… if… I just—I don’t know. If I hadn’t run away that night none of this would have ever happened. You wouldn’t be in your office all of the time and we’d be okay. I never should have said anything—everything was fine and then I had to just go and open my stupid fucking mou—“

“Stop.”

You trembled harder and gripped the lapels of his lab coat.

“Don’t talk like that. Do you understand me?” Zandik asked, taking your face into his hands, “You are the only person on all of Teyvat worth my time.”

“B-but… you’ve been drowning yourself in work… I thought it was so that you—you would have time away from me,” you hiccuped, fat tears rolling down your face.

Zandik shook his head, handing you some of the profiles of the people who he’d deemed a threat. You recognized some of them, some of them were the ones who were your attackers. “This is what I’ve been working on.”

You gripped the papers harder. “You’ve been—that’s why you were so paranoid when we went into the city,” you looked at him with a pitiful expression. “I thought… I just…”

“Everything I do is for you. Don’t you see that?”

“But—whenever I try to work through things—it always ends up in a fight and that’s… that’s why I—”

Zandik’s eyes widened. He barely even recalled what happened before you were kidnapped that night. All he remembered was the sheer panic—the way his consciousness seemed to be so distant from his body—then the blazing hot rage he felt seeing you beaten within an inch of your life nearly four days later.

“I just—all I wanted was to talk to you. I know you’re a doctor, a scientist. You fix things but—it’s like instead of just being with me, all you do is drown yourself in your work, trying to fix things,” you said, setting the papers aside. “I don’t need you to fix things, I just… I just need you. To be with me. That’s all I need.”

Zandik paused. Trying to take in all of the information. He remembered now. That night before you were kidnapped.

• He was home late from the labratory again. You were sitting at the table looking dejected when he came into the dining room. The meal had long gone cold, yet you still sat there with a cup of your preferred comfort beverage. He hung his lab coat and mask over the back of his chair, sitting down as he took note of the tense atmosphere.

• “We need to talk, Zandik,” you said finally, polishing off the last sip of your drink and setting the cup down. “This is the third week that you’ve not been home for dinner. Is there something going on that I should know about?”

• “It’s nothing. I’ll be home for dinner from now on.” he responded sharply. The new trainees at the lab were driving him insane. Of course, not that he would tell you that. He didn’t want your pretty little head to worry about anything.

• “Would you please just tell me what’s going on?”

• Zandik exhaled out his nose in frustration, “I’ve already told you. Nothing. Can we please proceed into our evening?”

• “Not until you tell me what’s been bothering you,” you persisted

• “I’ve already given you an answer. I said I’d be home for dinner from now on—what else do you need to hear?!”

• “Archons, Zandik! That’s not the problem! I don’t care if you’re home for dinner on time or not! I just want to know what’s going on!” you had moved and sat up straighter.

• “If being home in time for dinner wasn’t the problem, then why in Celestia did you feel the need to bring it up? If you would just tell me what the problem is, then I can fix it,” he huffed.

• “You—ugh! You just—can’t…” your hands had balled themselves up as you struggled for words. You hated how he always managed to do this. It made you feel stupid. He always had words for what he was feeling, and it was like you couldn’t ever get a word in edge-wise. On one hand you loved his brains, on the other, it made him a pain in the ass to talk to.

That night, after your argument, you’d stormed out of the manor to clear your head. That’s when some treasure hoarders had kidnapped you and dragged you off, thinking they could ransom you off or sell you into the black market slave.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about that night,” Zandik realized and you nodded weakly.

“I just… I love you so much, but it’s times like that when I feel like we’re not really married…” you admitted, “I never know how to bring up stuff like that. I feel like I know you so well and then it’s like you’re a completely foreign being to me. You know everything about me, but I feel like I just… I…”

Zandik pressed his lips to your forehead, taking in the smell of your shampoo as he littered kisses along the crown of your head. A silent vow that he would try. For you, he’d try.

Carefully, he set you up on his desk, shoving the smattering of papers onto the floor. He stood up from his chair and positioned himself between your legs, trailing a line of kisses from your shoulder blade to your lips. When you pulled away for air, your lips were glossy with his saliva, parted slightly as you tried to regain your breath.

“Then let me give you everything I have,” he mumbled, pushing his dress shirt off his shoulders as he pulled your body close. Your fingers slipped themselves under the fabric and pushed it further down, spreading warmth across his cold torso.

He put a hand on your back as he pushed you down further onto the desk, lowering you until you were fully presented to him on the dark oak. Your panties came off and thrown somewhere in the darkness. He kneeled down, blowing cold air teasingly as your thigh went to snap shut around him, but were stoppped by his hands gripping both of your legs.

His tongue probed around the entrance of your seeping cunt, licking up all of the slick that had already begun to gather there. After that, he didn’t give you much more time to prepare yourself as he had already began to dig in. His tongue worked at teasing the spot he knew made you weak, all while he gripped to bruise, shoving your sex closer to his face. Each time you tried to squirm he only went faster, and he let his pointy teeth graze your clit, sending warning shocks up your spine. The knot in your stomach burst and you began to quiver while his tongue kept working your insides, lapping up your orgasm until you had nothing left to give.

Keeping his grip on your legs, he dragged his body against yours until he was leering over you. He tapped your cheek, signaling you to open your mouth. When you did, he let the mixture of his saliva and your cum dribble into your mouth.

“Swallow. Consider it your new medicine. Don’t you want to make a fast and speedy recovery?” he hummed, holding your face in his hand. Too blissed out on your last orgasm, you didn’t responsd, which earned you a click of his tongue, and his cock’s head smacked against your clit.

You made a stifled noise as you retreated from the sensation, and finally reacted, swallowing the viscious mixture and responding in breathy pants, “Y-yes…”

“Yes what?”

“Yes—yes, doctor.”

“Good… now be a good patient and hold still. This treatment method is still experimental,” he ordered, taking his cock into his fist and lining it up before bottoming out in one smooth movement. The impact left you reeling and panting out his name. “Shhh… you’re alright, darling.“ His hand carefully brushed some hair stuck to your forehead off. When you had stopped spasming around him, he took his index finger and carefully traced the outline that his dick had made on your belly.

“Look at you, being such a good girl,” he praised, pulling himself out and teasing your entrance once again before he split you open on his cock again. “You’re made for this, aren’t you? Custom molded to my body.”

After stretching you out on the complete length of his cock, he pulled you in closer to the edge of the desk, cradling your body closer to his. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

You bit back a moan as his angle changed and he once again started abusing that spot deep inside of you that had you seeing stars “—‘m yours Zandik! Only yours—need you. Need your cock…”

Something akin to a growl ripped itself out of the scientist’s throat as he bit down on your shoulder, sucking red marks into the soft flesh there. His thrusts got faster and shallower and he pulled back only slightly to look down at the place you were connected, listening as your wetness made erotic noises that filled the nighttime atmosphere of his office. A thick white ring had formed around his cock as he kept drilling into you, making his movements quicker and more frantic.

“P-please—inside,” you moaned, feeling him twitch as you desperately grasped onto his back, leaving red trails where your fingernails tried to find purchase in his milky white skin. “Need you—fill me up.”

It only egged him on more. Feeling your silken walls start to tighten on him, making it harder to bully his full length up into you. He pushed a hand against the bulge on your belly as he snapped his hips harder, making your body tense up as you whined out his name, pushing him to his own edge. His body seized slightly as he filled up your insides with his seed. He kept himself there for a moment, plugging it up as it began to seep out and leak back down around his cock and onto the desk.

He slid himself out, watching as his spend seeped out, only to be gathered up by his fingers and coaxed into your mouth..

“You’re all mine, no one will ever take you from me,” he whispered, forehead pressed against yours as your eyes began to flutter closed.

[randompandabaewrites]

Born to Survive (1/2)

Astarion x f!Tav (tiefling), Canon Compliant,

Astarion's Romance, Act 1

1.8k of about 6k

part 2

Astarion's perfect little plan to seduce and manipulate Tav goes awry the first night he spends with her. But he should have known from the moment she agreed to meet him in the woods. // Part 1 of 2 cause this was longer than I planned for (heh). Astarion's dialogue is as close to the game as I could manage, with some embellishment. CW: Astarion's v healthy approach to sex/intimacy. MDNI This part is not explicit but part 2 is only that. Song Rec: Natural (Cover) by Kristen Collins & Kurt Hugo Schneider//

Astarion from the growing darkness watched as Tav knelt by the campfire, fighting with the instincts honed over centuries. 

Tonight, she was going to feel their razor’s edge—except she was going to live to see the morning. 

Maybe that was why the vampire was feeling a little bit of…hesitation, for once. He’d done this song of seduction and dance of deception more times than he could remember. It would be easy as any night on his back. She would be no different. 

So he thought. 

Tav was paying all of her attention to the fragrant herbs she’d gathered into neat bundles, binding them together, singing their edges to combine them, and deftly blowing them out again. 

It made Astarion scoff to think the tiefling had time to be concerned over such trivial matters. Tadpoles in their heads. Death stalking them at every corner. And here was the ranger, worried about potion ingredients camp supplies. 

And here he was, charming a mere ranger. 

Astarion watched as she brushed her long hair over her shoulder and out of her way to continue focusing on her task. His eyes traced the marks still visible on her neck. The twin punctures were worn so openly, brazenly advertising that she’d so willingly let a vampire feed from her. 

That was his way in. Because he remembered how…intimate that encounter was. A foreign concept from a life of feeding on rotten rats—but he was more than familiar with the way her body trembled under his teeth.

Astarion rolled his shoulders back to relax, composed his face into a charming smile, and sauntered over to the fireplace. 

“Darling, there you are.” 

“Astarion!” Tav jumped, nearly dropping the herbs into the flames. “Gods, you’re quieter than any prey I’ve tracked.”

He gave a flippant wave to ward off her comment. If only she knew how groomed he was to stalk the most clever and dangerous of prey. 

“I was just thinking about you. Remembering our time together, the things we shared…”

Tav straightened up from her crouch at the fire. She arched an eyebrow, and rested her hand on her cocked hip. “Astarion, if you need blood—” 

“I don’t just mean that lovely neck of yours,” he interrupted smoothly. He made a point of his eyes traveling over her figure, wondering what was hidden under supple leather armor—worn, well-used armor.”I’m growing to like the whole package.” 

“Really?” Tav asked, her tone dripping with a skepticism he didn’t appreciate. “I didn’t think a little dirt would do it for ya.” 

Her bright eyes raked over his impeccably kept appearance, which he had still managed after an abduction and days out in the wilds, thank you very much. 

But then Astarion noticed the slight swish of her tail. Though tieflings weren’t as common among his targets, he’d charmed and manipulated a few in his endless nights on the streets. 

Tav was either irritated…or interested. 

And Astarion knew just how to tilt that reaction into his favor. 

“Honestly,” he protested, stepping a bit closer to her. “And, you clearly like me too.” 

Her tail slashed back and forth, disturbing the dust near the fire. Even as she wore that face of suspicion and doubt. Cute little thing. Like a kitten who thought her mewling was a roar.

 “Come now, don’t be coy.” Astarion stepped artfully into her personal space, crowding her against the log that Karlach had placed as a bench before the fire. “Your body has already given you away…I could feel it.” 

Tav swallowed, and his eyes were drawn right to the graceful slope of her neck. 

As if she needed any more reminding of the night he first fed from her. How she had laid her head back into his hold. How he nearly lost control when he tasted the sweet nectar flowing through her veins—he almost forgot how she squirmed under him, but didn’t push him away. Then, that traitorous tail of hers curled up at the point. 

She may as well have broadcast her arousal to the entire camp. 

Astarion raised a hand, ghosting his touch along the defiant line of her jaw, down to her throat and the fading marks his fangs had left behind. She didn’t flinch at his almost-caress. In fact, she was already tilting her chin to it. 

“The little shivers, when I was getting lost, in your neck…”

Some feeling bubbled up unbidden from within the vampire. That moment, his first time taking blood from a thinking creature, well he couldn’t help it if that was special to him too. Astarion could still feel her fingers coiling at the small hairs at the back of his own neck.

It was…intimate. Like hadn’t known before. 

No. 

He quickly buried the foreign desires and slipped back into the persona that never failed to stoke them in others. Want was a weapon in his arsenal, one that he could wield with lethal dexterity. 

“You enjoyed it, didn’t you?” 

Tav’s teeth bit into her bottom lip, and she must know that she’d been caught. The agitated flicking of her tail slowed. Astarion knew that he had her when the pointed tip began to curl. 

“So I did.” 

A triumphant grin tugged at the corners of the elf’s mouth. He, deliberately, tilted his head to her, so the setting sunlight might catch his gleaming fangs when he grinned. 

He was always so careful to conceal his nature from unsuspecting prey until he could pull them into the shadows. But Tav’s obvious attraction to his vampiric features was something he fully intended to exploit. 

Such a wicked weakness for good girl. 

“So did I, more than words could say.” He let his rich voice drip with honey as he finally let his cool fingers touch her heated skin, skimming deftly over the fading twin marks. 

Tav shivered under his hand, but didn’t pull away. 

He had her now. 

Astarion loomed closer, his cool breath ghosting over her pointed ear. “I was so…very pleased with what you gave me, darling. You deserve a reward.” 

He expected her to melt into the caress of hand and his words, but Tav stiffened under his attentions and pulled back. Confusion flickered over the elf’s face before he could conceal it behind an innocently wounded expression. What did he say wrong?

“I don’t need a reward, Astarion.” Tav’s tone was firm, but irritatingly gentle. Which just made him want to snap his fangs in frustration. She ducked back to pick up her abandoned herbs, bundling them up neatly, and literally slipping right out of his fingers. “Some people help just for the sake of helping, you know?”

Astarion bit back the scathing retort that rose to his lips. 

It wouldn’t do him any good in his current objective, and might just shatter the fragile mood he had so carefully constructed. 

Instead, he forced a disarming chuckle and slid onto the log seat next to her. “Of course dear, I simply meant we could take an evening to ourselves.” Her tail twitched next to him. “Get away from camp, get some…privacy.” 

Astarion’s silver tongue was not about to fail him now. Tav’s back was to him, taking her time packing her herbs away, a tension lingering in her shoulders that he wanted to sooth away with his hands—or his mouth. 

She was proving to be more of a challenge. No matter, he enjoyed a good game of cat and mouse. Though he had no intention of being the mouse. 

Tav turned back to face him, those jewel-like eyes scrutinizing his face, like she was trying to pierce the winsome smile he plied as a well-worn mask.

She leaned closer, bringing her earthy smell of herbs and leather and something wild that made something in him ache for more. To have her closer—to feed, obviously, nothing more. 

For a fleeting moment, Astarion was certain he had Tav ensnared at last. 

“We don’t need to leave camp for you to feed on me, you know?”

Gods dammit. 

There it was again, that insufferable, good-guy tone that made him want to tear his perfect curls—he’d already seen Tav run headlong into danger over some undeserving wretch just under the pretense of doing the right thing. It might just make Astarion ill. 

“And you don’t owe me for it, either.” The sincerity in her voice was making his cold skin crawl. 

Astarion had lived long enough to know that altruism was a myth. Benevolence was meant to beguile. And anyone offering a hand would want their palms greased. 

Tav was either a fool, or the trickiest devil he’d tangled with yet. 

The misunderstood outcast card was not his favorite hand to play, but it worked so well on those with a savior complex. 

“Oh, I understand.” Astarion said softly, arranging his face into a petulant pout. 

Tav’s brows furrowed, and she finally looked back up at him. “You do?”

“I do. Stealing off into the woods with a vampire…” He let his voice trail off, oh so hopelessly. “It is a lot to ask you to put your faith in me.” 

“Astarion, that’s not—” 

He cut her off with a wounded sigh. “You do not trust me.” 

Astarion stood and turned away, shoulders slumped in feigned dejection, waiting for her to take the bait.  She would get to her feet and follow. He could count it down in his head. 

Three, two, one…

“I do trust you.” Tav’s soft voice was almost pleading. 

A slow, satisfied smile curved Astarion’s lips, surprised she’d yet to faint from that bleeding heart. 

“Then, trust me.” Astarion purred, closing the distance between them in one sinuous stride. He loomed over her, feeling the rush of her pulse fluttering at the base of her neck. 

Tav reached for his hand, but the vampire deftly bypassed it. His long fingers encircled her wrist, the heat of her skin sinking into his palm and warming him already. 

Her eyes were wide, nearly luminous in the gathering dusk, but he let his gaze linger on her mouth, his own lips parting ever so slightly. 

“Trust me, when I promise you a night you will never forget.” He lowered his voice and let shadows fall over his crimson eyes. 

Tav shivered, and Astarion knew it had nothing to do with the temperate air. He could smell her arousal, heady and sweet, as obvious as the almost perfect curl her tiefling tail was making. 

“Okay,” she breathed, her word a little more than a sigh. “I trust you.”

A victorious grin spread over his lips and through his veins. He finally had her right where he wanted her. Under his hand as he cupped her cheek, drawing her close, his breath ghosting over her lips before finding her pointed ear.

“See you there, lover.” 

part 2

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Can I have a reaction to Hogwarts Legacy students and professors to a female hufflepuff MC who owns a chinchilla

They have the softest fur on the planet

Only eat hay and special pellets ( no fruit or veggies in their diet) they can have certain dried herds and flowers though

Sorry about all the chin facts I own one

My little girl is all white with dark grey ears and some grey on her face and base of her tail with the pinkest noise

Please and thank you

A/N: I've had the honor of petting one once, they are the softest creature in the world ❤️ Thank you for the reference photo ❤️❤️

HLC REACT TO F!MC HAVING A CHINCHILLA

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: "What in Merlin's name- no, forget Merlin, what in the world is that??" He squints and looks real close at it. Gets right up in the floofy rodent's face. So close that the chinchilla sniffs his nose back. He huffs and gives a little smirk. "Adorable...just like its owner." He throws a cheeky wink at MC.

OMINIS GAUNT: He trusts MC wouldn't put anything terrible in his hand when he was asked to hold it out. He feels the light weight of a small soft creature on his palm. He brings his free hand up to lightly pet it and he smiles. "It's quite soft, MC. Is this another one of your beasts?" He doesn't give the chinchilla back for quite some time, they even take a nap together.

ANNE SALLOW: "I've never seen anything like it!" She gazes in amazement and holds out a treat MC gave her to give to it. She's very curious about the chinchilla; where it came from, how long has MC had it, etc. She hopes MC brings it with her every time she visits.

IMELDA REYES: "Is that a rat in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" MC's chinchilla was indeed hanging out in her pocket. She tells the same joke every time MC is around in the hope she'll get to see the baby. She doesn't lose her mind over its cuteness but she wants to pet it every time it's around.

NATSAI ONAI: She sneaks extra snacks for the chinchilla all the time. She also lets it sleep in her robe if MC is busy. She loves pet sitting. She's also fascinated by the chinchillas tiny hands, they can grab things??? Like a people??? Weird.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He's never seen fur like what the chinchilla has. He's very curious if it has any unique properties. Don't worry, he would dare take a pair of scissors to such a precious creature, but when MC is cleaning its cage, will she spare a few furballs?

LEANDER PREWETT: He struggles to maintain his composer when MC is carrying around the little fluff ball all curled up in her arm. It's. Too. Cute. It's unfair how cute it is! When MC lets him hold it for the first time, he cries. He's not allergic, his eyes are sweating. Stop pointing it out.

AMIT THAKKAR: His only hang up with the chinchilla is that it chews on everything. All of his books have teeth marks on them from the chinchilla sneaking a nibble when no one was looking. Nevermind his quills, parchment, shoes, and even his wand. Is nothing sacred?? He's gained the habit of watching it like a hawk when MC brings it around.

EVERETT CLOPTON: "Hehehehe, Levioso." Whoosh the chinchilla is in the air and very confused. Any retaliation from MC is worth it. It's funny watching the little chinchilla get so confused by suddenly leaving the ground.

POPPY SWEETING: She has to cover her mouth to muffle the squee that escapes her as to not draw attention, but she is losing her mind. The chinchilla is the absolute cutest thing she has ever seen and that is saying a lot. She steals the chinchilly away every chance she gets, straight up runs off. Her chinchilla now, bish.

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: He doesn't mind pet sitting when MC is out and about for extended periods of time. He and the chinchilla get along quite well. However, when he himself gets buried in work sometimes he loses track and has to go digging through his office to find where the chinchilla scampered off to.

MATILDA WEASLEY: "As long as you follow the pet guidelines set by the school, your unique pet is welcome. That said, this is quite the curious creature. How did you acquire this?" She studies the chinchilla and gets it a little pat.

CHIYO KOGAWA: "Cute." Is all she says about it. She's not a big pet person. Nothing personal.

AESOP SHARP: His initial reaction is just a dismissive "hmm" when MC shows it off, but later on, if the chinchilla escapes, it finds its way to the dungeons and into his classroom where it sits in his lap and he mindlessly strokes its soft fur. It's very therapeutic. Would want to pet again.

ABRAHAM RONEN: "A chinchilla! Holy guacamole those are rare in these parts. Where did you get it?" He examines the chinchilla closely and rubs its ear.

MIRABEL GARLICK: "Oh my, aren't you just the most darling thing I've seen!" She excitably comes over the chinchilla and bounces in place when she gets to pet it. "Oh! It's so impossibly soft!" She orders seeds of plants native to Western South America and grows a few just for MC's pet.

MUDIWA ONAI: "Well, this is one unique creature. I see you two have a very special bond." She delights seeing the chinchilla.

BAI HOWIN: She reminds MC to keep plenty of fine dust available for their pet to roll in. "Scotland gets a lot of precipitation and moisture isn't good for their coats. Keep them dry and healthy." She hands the little chinchilla a pellet.

DINAH HECAT: She smiles as she pets it. "I had a chinchilla when I was little. Stole it from a merchant who wasn't too good at taking care of his merchandise. Nursed him back to health. Had him for twelve long years. Good years..." She tears up a little, but makes no fuss of it.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He doesn't really notice. Thinks the chinchilla is an extra small puffskien or something.

SATYAVATI SHAH: "No thank you, I do not wish to pet your chinchilla. Please finish your star charts." Doesn't even look up from her work.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: "Ew, take your fat squirrel and get out of my way. I have important business to attend." He walks away with his nose in the air.

[dangopango00]

YIIPEEE finished the rest of the brothers with my hcs 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Notes utc

Lucifer:

- Grey streaks from like stress or sth

- Tired eyes (Honestly ik i put his eyes should be straight before but i decided itd be soooo kewt if he had downturned eyes like belphie)

- Kept his eye color bc it shows how hes aggressive but not all the time like silent but deadly bc muted colors

- dilf

Mammon:

- Made his hair more greyish bc his and solomons hairstyles are so similar

- Was also sick and tired of the messy anime boy hair so i made his hair messy in a diff way; more clean since hes a model and all

- His ahoge is supposed to look like a little wing kinda

- A few black streaks (dyed) bc of how much he respects luci

- Remnants of freckles (light seasonal freckles)

- I hate the eyebrows and eyes going through the hair thing if its fully covered but i had to show that hes being mischievous

Levi:

- Im so sorry to everyone who loved him the way he was but I HAD TO GREMLINFY HIM its in character trust

- He blushes the most imo like i feel like his whole face and neck would turn red

- His hair would be super messy like he would NOTT brush that shit its a waste of time in his opinion

- Made his messy hair in the shape of a fish fin (top) and tail (right)

- Made his mouth widest bc hes a lizard

- Gave him slight snake eyes (ok but imagine if it intensified whenever he was envious like how cats do but opposite)

Satan:

- Angelic ahh beautiful man

- Hair grows fast so its always a lil long

- Always looks a lil mad RBF

- Same hair swoop thing as Asmo

- Single ahoge is supposed to represent a unicorn horn kinda

Asmo:

- Little rat braid that supposed to resemble scorpion tail

- fake mole (hes not one of us yall.) (we let it slide bc hes chill)

- Similar swoop to satan (purposeful. Asmo styles his hair since he was “young” and he just kept doing it that way)

- #softgirl vibe

Beel:

- Ik i said idk what to say for him but i got a bunch of random inspo bye

- Looks like he was raised by wolves. Ok well thats an exaggeration but his hair is very unkempt doesnt get haircuts until his hair is down to like his shoulders and def doesnt style it

- FRECKLS ❤️ mostly on his cheeks

- Lighter streaks of hair naturally n it matches belphie 🥺🥺

- ahoge is supposed to look like fly wings but he also looks like a bnnuy and thats so kewt

Belphie if u havent seen him!

All the hcs i made more in-depth than on here