#also how did the bedsheet survive

[vaunted-and-vilified]

sometimes i cant stop thinking about that final battle in gideon the ninth, and how cytherea was wearing nothing but a bedsheet.

[ringsofsaturnnnn]

(I’m not sure if this is how I ask but I’m going for it. Let me know if it’s not right!😭)

Can I play blackjack all in with shigaraki? A cosmopolitan to drink! I’d like a reader with a sheep quirk!🩷

.˚ 🐑┊..⃗. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗽 ⌇

MDNI | t.shigaraki x fem!reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: shigaraki’s girlfriend has a sheep quirk and he can’t help but tease her every chance he gets

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴) :: fem bodied reader, mocking/bullying, hair pulling, not a warning; but reader has white hair because of the sheep quirk, name calling (slvt, whvre), begging, spanking (sorta)

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 :: i’ve never written for shigaraki so please please please have mercy on me 😭. i highly suggest checking out senpai (who is tagged on my tag list) or @sluttyshigaraki for better shigaraki fics! this is not proofread. i’m sorry if this is completely ooc, i tried. i also kinda altered his quirk a bit so he can touch you without like.. y’know.. decaying you. i’ll be real honest when i say i haven’t finished mha yet so i don’t know everything about him☠️

© 2023 ringsofsaturn | please don't copy or repost my works! i have not given permission to anyone to repost my works. reblogs/comments/likes are okay!

𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥

tag list :: @callm3senpaii

a soft bleat escaped your slightly parted lips as your boyfriend harshly tugged on your hair. “t-tomura!” you whimpered. a stinging sensation shot across your scalp as your fingers curled around his bedsheets. “what’s wrong, hitsuji?” his voice was mocking as he slammed his hips into yours harshly.

“t-that hurts!” your hair was extremely sensitive seeing as it was part of your quirk. “that’s too bad,” he chuckled, the sound was hardly one of comfort. his “chuckle” was raspy, nearly comparable to the noise of nails on a chalkboard.

you weren’t quite sure how the two of you ended up becoming a couple. tomura was known for being the leader of the league of villains and a rather ruthless person. you, on the other hand, were a ua high alumni, who was working on becoming a pro-hero. never did you imagine you’d find yourself tangled within a villian’s sheets.

“poor, little lost sheep.” pulling your hair even harder, he pressed a harsh kiss to your lips. his thrusts were brutal, the headboard hitting the wall harshly. “can’t believe your shepard let you wander so far from the flock.” you knew he was referring to the hero you were interning with to help finish out your provisional hero license.

every chance he got, tomura teased you about your sheep quirk. he always made a jab at you being “lost” since sheep were known to wander off. sometimes he’d call himself your shepherd in a condescending manner, claiming that you’d never survive without him.

more soft bleats escaped you as his thrusts brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. “god, you’re so fucking tight.” he grunted under his breath. he kept a firm grip on your soft, silky locks of white hair. shoving your face into his pillows, he continued to use you as he saw fit. “g-gonna cum..” you cried out softly. another chuckle sounded from above you. “you’re gonna cum already? poor, pathetic little slut. you can hardly last five minutes.”

he finally released his hold on your hair, opting to grip your hips instead. sinking his nails into your flesh, he started pulling you back to meet his thrusts. “a-ah!” your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you buried your face in his pillow. “if you want to cum, you’re going to have to fucking beg me.” he grunted.

it wasn’t long before you were babbling helplessly into his pillow. your voice was muffled, tears were wetting the fabric as he continued to thrust into you harshly. growing annoyed with not being able to hear you, he pulled you up by your hair, causing you to yelp in pain. “try again, slut.”

“please! please let me cum, tomura! i’m so close! i need to cum!” you wailed helplessly, a few bleats weaving itself through your begs. he smirked, but he wasn’t completely satisfied yet. “yeah? you wanna cum?” he mocked. trying your best to nod, you weakly opened your teary eyes.

“tell me who owns you.” the look in his eyes was sinister as he stared at your pretty, arched back. “y-you,” you hiccuped. “you own me!” squeezing your eyes shut once more, you felt your legs start to shake. “good little sheep. you can cum now. make sure to thank me while you do it, whore.”

a few thrusts later you were cumming all over him, loud moans escaping you. “o-oh!” panting, you immediately began thanking him. “thank you. thank you for letting me cum! thank you..” you were breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

he laughed loudly before spanking you. he gently rubbed your ass as he spoke. “you’re welcome, whore. now, stay still while i fuck you full of my cum.”

hitsuji - 羊 :: japanese. means sheep.

dividers & main picture made by :: @strrynigghts

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Hi! Can we get little phantom waking up from a nightmare and having to run and wake up swiss for help? 🖤🖤

These are identical so you both get this one, although I think you’re the same person 👀

Also I wrote this instead of showering and now I’m in trouble so I hope you appreciate it!!!

cw: regressed ghouls, age regression.

Phantom’s summoning was traumatic. It was horrendous even. He was actually meant to be summoned With Sunshine but something went wrong and he ended up stuck in the portal between earth and hell, unable to get to reach earth but unable to get back to hell. He got stuck. For an entire year he lived, survive, in a barren wasteland no creature was meant to survive in.

He had nightmares about it all the time, of being trapped in some kind of purgatory, unable to move forward but unable to go back. He’ll wake up in a panic, with a cry high in his throat as he fights to get the bed covers untangled from his body. 

Which is how he woke up now, with a startled cry and  the claustrophobic feeling of his bedsheets restricting around him as he fights his way free. He’s breathless and panicking, tears streaming down his face as he cries out, for Swiss, but he doesn’t realises who’s name he’s shouting. He managed to untangle him and scuttles out from his room, stripping his clothes off as he goes, leaning a trail down the hallway, the feeling of anything touching his body at the point was too much. He goes to Swiss’ room not even realising he does, and pushes his way into his room.

The multi ghoul is still asleep, snoring lightly as Phantom peers at him from across the dark room. But at least he’s alone, so he feels less guilty about waking him up. 

“S-Swiss?” He hardly whispers onto the room. Swiss stirs a little but doesn’t wake up. 

He feels his bottom lip wobble as his tail wraps anxiously around his middle. “Swiss, p-please.” 

Swiss moves, pulling the covers off his face and squinting into the darkness with a grunt. 

“Phantom? Go back to bed, it’s nowhere near morning yet.” He pulls the covers back over his face turning around to have away from Phantom. 

Phantom let’s out a sob, feeling tears fall down his cheeks.  “D-daddy?” 

That gets Swiss’ attention. He sits up, turning  back to face Phantom. 

“Bug? What is it? What’s wrong?” His eyes run down a phantom’s appearance. “Where are your clothes?” 

Phantom just shakes his head and sobs again. 

“Oh, did you have the nightmare again?” Swiss coos at him. Phantom nods, rubbing at one of his  eyes with a closed fist, rubbing away sone of the tears that had fallen. 

“Oh, babybug, come here.” Swiss open his arms for him and Phantom immediately runs into him. Swiss pull him into his lap and Phantom buries his face into Swiss’ neck  as he sobs, gripping at Swiss’ shoulders. 

“I’ve got you, babybug. I’ve got you.” Swiss rubs his back, rocking them back and forth gently. “You’re safe now, darling. Finally safe with us, where you were always meant to be.” 

Phantom snuffles, squeezing his arms around Swiss’ neck.  “Oh, I know. So scary, huh? But it’s okay, I’ve got you.” 

Phantom whimpers, clinging to Swiss even more and mouthing along his neck. There are still tears streaming down his cheeks but his sobbing had subsided for little sniffles and whimpers. 

“Oh!” Swiss adjusts Phantom on his grasp. “I think I have something that might help you.” He rummages in the bottom draw of his bedside table, pulling out a small fleece blanket and a pacifier. “I think these are Mountain’s but I don’t think he’ll mind if you borrow them for the night.” 

He taps the pacifier against Phantom’s bottom lip and the little ghoul parts them letting Swiss push the rubber into his mouth. He starts sucking immediately, the plastic bobbing in his mouth as Swiss wraps the soft blanket around his shoulders. 

“There. That's much better, hmm?”

Phantom gives him a small nod and moves to settle down properly on Swiss’ arms, resting his head on his chest. Swiss shuffles himself as carefully as he can do he’s sat up against the headboard of his bed and pulls the duvet over the both of them. Phantom gives a little chirp, pulling the duvet around himself a little tighter. Swiss sinks into his bed so he’s lying back fully once again, keeping Phantom on top of him where the little ghoul seems most comfortable. 

He runs his fingers though Phantom’s hair and he looks up at him, blinking owlishly as the pacifier bobs in his mouth. 

“You think you can go back to sleep? Think you’re ready?” 

A look of panic flashes across Phantom’s face and he lets out a distressed squeak shaking his head as more tears well in his eyes. 

“Oh, babybug. You don’t have to go back to your room, you can sleep right here with me.” Swiss gently thumbs away a few stray tears from his cheeks. Phantom gives another distressed squeak. 

“What is it, bug?” Swiss frowns at him, trying to think of anything that would be distressing Phantom anymore. 

Phantom squeaks again, pulling the duvet even tighter around himself and looking anxiously around the pitch black room. 

“Oooh. It’s dark. Is it too dark for you, babybug?” 

Phantom nods in reply. 

Swiss moves to flick the bedside lamp on and the room gets illuminated with a soft glow. 

“That better? Not so scary now?” 

Phantom gives a little happy chuff and snuggles down deeper into Swiss embrace, giving a small yawn around the pacific, his eyes finally slipping closed with a purr.  Swiss yawns himself, cuddling into Phantom as he chuffs again in his sleep, his sleepy purr increasing in volume as Swiss scratches down his back with his claws lightly. It doesn’t take Swiss long before he feels his own eyes slipping closed, a purr of his own rumbling through his chest. 

[bookish-whore]

Falling Part X

Azriel x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: Heavy Content (nightmares, SA Trauma, flashbacks)

A/N: After a long hiatus, IT'S FINALLY HERE!!!! If you’re new to this fic then welcome and if you are one of my og readers welcome back. I can’t thank you all enough for your support for this story and I am so ready to continue this journey. I hope you guys like it!! (also this one is definitely for the Lucien shippers ❤️)

My Masterlist -> Here

Falling Masterlist -> Here

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

It had been months since Azriel came to the Day Court, but our conversation replayed on a continuous loop in my mind:

“Please don’t go y/n” he begged “Not like this please just- fuck I know how it seems but I have been honest, doesn’t that count for something? I know- I know I hurt you and I hurt Elain but If you just give me a chance, I can fix this, I can fix us.” “I can’t Az” I said, my own tears falling in tandem with his “maybe someday I can forgive you and we can move past this, but not right now” I made my way to the door, reaching for the knob to leave when his voice halted me. “I’m not giving up y/n” he said “I promise you; I don’t care how long it takes. Even if it takes an eternity, I am not giving up on this.”

I went over our last interaction constantly, the desperation in his eyes as I left him on his knees in that room. I felt confident in the moment but leaving him there didn’t make me feel better about any of this, about Elain or our situation. If anything it had left me more confused about what I wanted.

It had also been months since the incident, and I wasn’t sleeping. I found myself plagued by nightmares. No matter what I tried I would wake up every night in a cold sweat the sound of that voice ringing in my head.

“you’re a pretty little thing aren’t you?”

It was paralyzing, I knew that I was safe and in my own bed, but I could feel the chill of the night air as it sank into my bones, I could feel the rough texture of the alley as it scraped my back. I could smell the smoke and liquor on that male’s breath as he leaned in close to me.

“You can scream, but no one’s coming to save you”

I covered my ears, but I could still hear the distinct sound of him unbuckling his belt, the sound of fabric ripping and sliding. Every night I woke up to the feeling of being completely helpless.

But I wasn’t alone in my pain anymore.

I had my first nightmare after the meeting with Azriel and I remember three things distinctly: screaming, throwing the bedsheets off my body, and Lucien.

That night Lucien had heard my screams and barreled through the door ready to fight off an intruder only to find me curled in a ball on the floor at the foot of my bed.

He pulled me into him and didn’t let me go through it alone. He smoothed my hair from my face and let me cry into his chest while whispering words of encouragement in my ear, not that I was cognizant enough in that state to process he was even speaking.

It had become a habit, him holding me when I woke in that state. He would pick me up and tuck me into bed seating himself beside me. I would lean my head on his shoulder, and he would gently ask me If I wanted to talk about it and the times I said no, He would distract me with stories to make me feel better.

He told me about how Feyre was when she came back from under the mountain, that she would have nightmares every night about what she had done to those faeries and he told me he often wondered how Tamlin did nothing when her pain was so loud she was practically screaming to be heard, to be felt, to be understood and he told me how he was so grateful to Rhysand for bringing her back to life. During these conversations he would often tell me that if she could become who she is now out of what she endured that I too would survive and come out of this all stronger than ever.

There were also times when he thought I was asleep that he told me about his own demons, about Jesminda and his family, about lying to Feyre when she first arrived in the Spring Court, and his regret helping Tamlin align himself with Hybern for selfish reasons and how he wished he could explain that to Elain, to Nesta, how he just wanted a chance to apologize.

Lucien had become my savior and he never let me be alone, he was bringing me back to life, whether or not he knew it.

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

Today was a late morning, the kind that followed a rough night of shit sleep because the same tired nightmares kept me awake, but Lucien’s calming presence was keeping me sane, he rarely slept in his own bed these days. I stretched out my limbs careful not to wake him beside me and rubbed the sleep from my eyes sitting up to appreciate the day.

It was springtime now and the Day Court was in full bloom, the vibrant colors exploding on every surface as the flowers blossomed, their aroma constantly wafting through the halls, the entangled scents of lavender, gardenia, Hyacinth, Peony and gods knows what else was constantly invading my senses.

Lucien stretched out next to me, making that small little noise in his throat he makes every morning when he wakes up.

“Good morning” I said softly

“Mhmm” he muttered into his pillow; I had learned that despite his consistently friendly demeanor Lucien Vanserra was not a morning person.

“So, what’s on the agenda today” I asked, gently hitting him with a pillow to rouse him faster.

Lucien turned over, sitting up and grabbing the pillow from my grip “Well…” he drawled out with a yawn “I was thinking we could go to the equinox festival.”

“What is that?” I asked.

“Well, you would probably know it as Starfall but it’s a weeklong endeavor here and everyone really goes all out. I mean there are markets and live music and food stalls everywhere. It’s truly a celebration and I think it would be fun.”

“Oh gods- It’s already Starfall?” I asked; my voice much smaller than I intended it to be, Lucien knew that it was one of my favorite celebrations in the Night Court and the thought that I wouldn’t be participating in it this year brought tears to my eyes, but I swiped them before he could see.

“I know how much it hurts not to be there” Lucien said pressing his forehead to mine as he grabbed my hand, interlocking our fingers as his thumb drew circles on the back of it.

“New traditions right” I said softly, reiterating our agreement to work towards moving forward despite our pain.

“Right” he agreed.

“This equinox festival…it sounds like exactly what I need.”

Lucien flashed me a smile, before getting out of bed and pulling on his slippers and dressing robe.

“I’ll meet you downstairs for a late breakfast in an hour?” he asked “Then we can head into town and do some shopping.”

“Only if those lemon blueberry muffins are involved.”

“I will personally see to it.” He said with a smile.

“Then it’s a deal, see you soon Vanserra.”

He made his way to my side of the bed and pressed a kiss to the top of my head before quietly making his way to his own rooms.  

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

I took my time getting ready, enjoying the warm bath and soothing salts. I only got out because the water was tepid, and I was hungry. I chose a simple green dress for our outing, it was short sleeved with a flowy skirt that was decorated with floral embroidery, it reminded me of the things I loved about springtime: the way the flowers bloomed, the way the sun shined, the way the birds sang, it reminded me of new beginnings, and I needed that kind of thinking today. I slipped on my everyday boots and pulled my hair into a braid securing it with a ribbon to keep it out of my face during the day and I made my way downstairs.

Lucien was wearing what he usually did, a simple pair of linen pants and a sleeveless vest brocaded with intricate swirling patterns, today it was gold and green. I smirked at his choice because we were practically matching. I had to admit that the green really brought out the color of his eyes, the russet one in stark contrast to the gold mechanical one that was always subtly watching, the green also brought out the fiery orange of his hair, which he had in a loose knot at the back of his head.

I turned sharply at the stairs to make my way to the dining room when Lucien gently grabbed my arm.

“I figured since we were already having a late start that we could make a day of this.”

“How so?”

“Well…” He winnowed away and appeared a moment later holding a large wicker basket “I figured we could set off to the town, taking the scenic route of course, and that we could stop by Larimar Lake to have lunch.”

I went silent, mostly because I was taken aback at the quick planning and his attention to detail. I had just mentioned last week how much I loved that lake and how I wished I could find time to visit more.

“I think that’s a great idea” I said interlocking my arm with his as we began our journey.

We walked towards the stables talking about nothing really, the weather, the flowers and our excitement for the day.

I saw the horses saddled and ready to go. Helion had gifted me Adira, she was a beautiful black mare with a thick wavy mane, she was good tempered and docile. I had taken up riding a few weeks upon arriving as a hobby and had immediately bonded with her and Helion had seen that, He gifted her to me a few days later and we had spent countless hours together. Next to her was Arion, he was Lucien’s horse a chestnut stallion, he was larger than Adira, but they got along well. The stable hands had prepped them both and were waiting for us in front of the stable. Lucien helped me get on Adira first, making sure I was settled comfortably with the reigns and secured the basket to my saddle bag before mounting Arion with ease. With a click of his tongue, both horses began at a slow pace up the winding road towards the lake.

It had been maybe two hours into our ride when we approached the lake, I could smell the water long before I saw it. It was a sight to behold. I remember Lucien told me the first time we came here that they called it Larimar Lake after a crystal of the same name that is a dazzling sparkling blue, according to an old wives tale, when the mother created Prythian she left the crystals to grow in the lake which is how it got its magnificent blue color.

I swung my leg over Adira, jumping off her onto the soft ground below and handed the reigns to Lucien who took them both to a nearby stream and secured them to a tree. He picked a spot close to the lake on a grassy patch and began setting up. He started by putting down a large blanket and setting out the contents of the basket he brought. I however had other ideas.

I quickly took off my boots discarding them and my socks near the blanket Lucien had set up and made my way to the lakes edge. I just wanted to feel the cool water on my skin, as I looked out over its vast depths I couldn’t help but admire the way the sun glittered on the surface like crystal. This- this felt like an integral part of healing, being able to see the beauty in a world that had wronged me so badly.

As I stood barefoot on the sand, letting the delicate waves wash over my feet and up to my ankles. I tipped my head back soaking in the sun’s gentle warmth.

And for a brief moment, everything else slipped away.

And I was…happy

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

She was a sight for sore eyes.

I had that thought earlier when she came downstairs in that green dress. I loved her in green, the way it complimented her eyes and the perfect tone of her skin. Y/n looked good in everything but oh gods did she look radiant today.

Our relationship was complicated to say the least. In the last few months all of our time has been spent together. I mean I practically lived in her bedroom returning to my own only for a change of clothes. I also found myself craving the comfort of her presence, the way she laughed, and I mean really laughed from deep in her chest which was becoming more and more common; or the way she clung to me after her nightmares, I even found it hard to fall asleep without the steady soft snoring she did when she fell into a deep sleep.

I felt guilty for developing these feelings for her. Especially when I knew what she endured, when I knew what haunted her, the demons she was avoiding that came for her at night, I held her while she screamed and thrashed and cried and I lulled her to sleep with various stories I thought she would like. Stories that would distract her from her pain, and when I couldn’t think of any, I shared my own pain, to show her that I understood to some extent what she was going through.

I seemed to be the only person she could trust right now, and I valued that more than anything. I would never do anything to jeopardize that, but I couldn’t help but have these feelings for her. Not all the time but there were moments and I wonder if she felt them too. I don’t know exactly when it started but maybe they were always there.

I reminded myself constantly that she wasn’t ready to consider a life without Azriel, he was her mate and he would always have a hold on her life the same way Elain seemed to have a hold on mine, but I also knew that over time the mating bond felt like a headache, a dull pain that would come every once in a while as a sullen reminder of a life that could have been, but one that isn’t a reality and how could I think of what could have been when she was here and she looked so perfect, barefoot with her face angled to the sun.

Here on the lake, she was alive, and she was vibrant, and she was beautiful. Here on the lake, there was no trace of the broken woman I found that night curled into herself, no inkling of doubt, or despair, or pain. I wish I could keep her like this. In fact, I would resign myself to loving her in the shadows so long as she was happy.

I brought myself back to reality at the soft sound of her padding over and plopping herself on the blanket.

“Thank the mother, I am starving” she said grabbing one of the lemon blueberry muffins she requested, as well as various berries and popping them into her mouth

“When are you not?” I teased handing her a plate of all her favorites and a glass of wine.

“Very funny Vanserra” she said grabbing the glass and taking a sip.

“So how far out are we from the town?” she asked after a while.

“Mmmm” I took a sip of my wine “I would say another two hours or so to Illmire”

She nodded, a sly smile crossing her face as she tossed a blueberry at me. I made sure to feign a disappointing smirk at her as it bounced off my forehead and into the grass.

She saw right through it, she always did.

“So, we have a little time?” she asked

“That depends on what you have in mind.”

“I just want to enjoy this a little longer.”

“Okay, I’ll be right here.”

Her face morphed into a frown.

“What?” I asked.

“I want you to come with me.”

“Absolutely not” I said firmly “I have to pack this up and get the horses ready”

“You can spare a few minutes” she pleaded tugging my hand softly “Come on Lucien…come lay in the sun with me.”

I rolled my eyes, getting up from my position to follow her to the water’s edge, and I followed her lead, laying out on the sandy beach letting the sun warm my face.

I looked over at her, her eyes closed as she simply soaked in the sun on her face, letting the cool water gently touch her feet before receding.

If she only knew, I would do anything for her.

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

I was surprised Lucien indulged me for as long as he did.

After a while he stood, pulling me up with him and made his way to the blanket, packing away the containers and folding the linens. He piled everything into the bags and secured them to Arion’s side.

I stood in anticipation, fiddling with my hands.

“Go” he said with a smile “I know you want to.”

“you’re the best” I said pressing a kiss to his cheek as I turned and ran towards the water, I pulled my dress over my head and dove in wearing just my undergarments. The water was so clear and cool. I submerged my head, diving to the bottom to look up at the sky through the water. I loved the way the sun reflected off the surface. I came up for air and floated there with my arms outstretched.

Lucien chuckled as he approached with a towel.

“Don’t worry…I planned accordingly.”

“You know me so well” I shouted.

“Take your time” he said “but there are some clouds rolling in from the north, looks like a storm.”

“Help me out?” I asked gesturing my head to the towel in his hands.

Lucien unrolled it, holding it out for me. I walked right into his arms, and he bundled it around me.

“You ready to go?” he asked

“Mhmmm” I nodded toweling my body dry and putting my dress back on, I had to re-braid my hair but it was definitely worth it.

Lucien helped me back into the saddle and we were off to Illmire.

He was right, it was about two hours, but as soon as we got into town the skies opened up and it started pouring. The townsfolk were all scrambling into shops and taverns to get out of the rain, I didn’t mind it so much and neither did Lucien but we made haste to the inn.

The innkeeper’s name was Rasmus and he was a sweet old man, he immediately took Adira and Arion to the stables and set them up for the night. Not to mention he recognized Lucien immediately and refused to let us pay for a room, he even insisted on bringing us dinner later, which worked out because the storm only worsened.

It looked like we were staying the night.

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

Taglist (Falling) ->

@moonfawnx @we-were-beautiful @96jnie @frgman-sins @fromdelos @goldentournesol @ruler-of-hades @mrs-azriel @feyretopia @daily-dose-of-sass @mulansaucey @owllover123 @redbleedingrose @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @marigold-morelli @aelinismyqueen @elizarikaallen @clueless-gold @starrstrucked @em---r @bankerfrog @strawbwebbie @morks-watermelon @kristalhi @lolabell0556 @intrxde @aubreylovesthegames @xxoverthinkerxx @caosfanblr @mis-lil-red @haswellington @wolfyland07 @answer-the-sirens @kaz-2y567 @judig92 @esposadomd @violet-shadows @meghan52300 @biblophilefox82 @issybee0611 @writingsbychlo @katherinereid @baarishkiboond @hernameispia @positivewitch @dragonqueeneliza @minipiglover

[g0blintears]

Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Six. Botany Knowledge

Once the sound of even breathing filled the silence of the room, you quietly stood up from your chair. The pierced scraping of wood scratching across the floor and itched at your ears. Your eyes briefly looked over the sleeping brunet, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath he took.

You could understand why he didn’t want to rest. For someone like you, sleep wasn’t necessary. You could stay awake for as many millennia as the realm remained without ever needing to rest. 

It wasn’t as if you couldn’t sleep though. You’ve just never tried. After all, if it wasn’t necessary, why bother?

It’s different for humans though. Since your creator had a very peculiar diet, you did everything you could to learn more about how to harvest the food source to its most beneficial potential. The more you learned about humanity, and the more you learned on how they functioned, the better you could do to ensure that the entity got to feast well. That’s why making sure the survivors were taken care of properly was one of your top priorities. 

Giving one last look to the sleeping survivor, you turned around and opened up the screen door; making your way over to the next row of cabins.

One by one you continued with your routine. You walked into each cabin, dropping off some bed sheets, and left just as quick as you had entered. It wasn’t long until you were finally down to the last cabin. 

Entering through the screen door, you were mindful to give the wooden door a gentle knock as you made your way inside. You looked around the room, your eyes searching for the brunette botanist, only for you to be met with another empty cabin.

Walking across the creaking wooden floors, your ears instantly picked up the sound of water droplets falling into a bigger body of water. You briefly gazed over to the woman’s desk where the source of the sound was coming from. Placing the neatly folded bedsheets on her bed, your focus went over to the table, intrigued by the contents that were scattered on the surface.

Dozens upon dozens of notes littered the desk. Papers scribbled with messages that started with ‘to me: from past me’ were written over in messy ink. Following the trail of papers, your eyes looked over the various plants spread over the window sill. Many of the herbs and flowers from the realm were planted into small tin cans with little noted descriptions of each flora written on a piece of paper taped to the wall. Each one of those notes had drawn diagrams of the plants, along with detailed paragraphs about the biology of each greenery and theories of what they did. 

All of the notes were so intricate and riveting that you found yourself immersed with all of the contents on the desk. Especially once your eyes caught sight of the very corner of the table where a bowl of water with a tubed outlet was placed. The tube allowed water to dribble out of the small hole and fall into another bowl of water that was placed underneath the desk.

Lifting a hand to the desk, your fingers lightly traced over the notes. Reading over the contents of scribbled passages with curious [eye color] eyes. You took in all of the information like a sponge. Not once did you take your attention away from the papers, not even when the cabin door swung open.

Claudette looked down at her hands with a tender smile.

Her fingers gently held onto the handle of her basket. Various flowers and herbs of unknown origin were bundled into the mahogany hamper. Her hands were scratched up with cuts and bandages, a few lumps and itchy rashes covered her dark skin, but she didn’t mind as she gazed down in awe at the mysterious bundle of flora.

Claudette had just gotten back from foraging around the camp. After the nice blonde woman named Kate had shown her around, Claudette had to excuse herself from the others. The wave of information of the realm had flooded her mind like a typhoon, and she needed an outlet to rethink everything she had just learned. 

She had gone back to the cabin Kate had said belonged to her. Upon entering, she had found herself staring at a desk with hundreds of notes written in her handwriting. All of the papers helped explain the situation to her in more detail. Not only that, but they also brought back some of her memories. 

She had died. 

She could still feel the pierced knives break through her skin. The many hooks that impaled into her shoulder, over and over again as she let out a horrid scream that scratched at the back of her throat. It sent shivers down her spine. Her breathing became disheveled and she began rocking back and forth while holding onto herself. Those memories were becoming overbearing. She couldn’t handle it. She needed to leave.

Once she had shakily grabbed her basket off the floor of her bed, Claudette ran out the door and sprinted into the forest. She ran and ran until the lights from the torches around the cabins began to fade, and she had found herself in the middle of the woods surrounded by towering trees and unfamiliar plants. After her heart settled back into an even pace, she began to recoup by throwing herself into the bundle of flowers.

With shaky hands, she studied the plants surrounding her, her once fearful brown eyes stared down at the flowers in awe. She was shocked to see how many of the flora looked like plants she had known back in her world. However, the plants in this realm were nothing like the ones she had studied. The flowers here were vastly different, glowing neon colors throughout the stems.

Memories of her life in the realm had slowly come back to her, but unlike the ones back in the cabin, these memories weren’t bad. They were fuzzy cut up images of her studying the flora of the realm. The recollection of broken memories were both comforting and familiar pieces of a puzzle that rose with each plant she encountered. She remembered how much she loved studying the flowers in the realm and how her knowledge in botany had helped not only her, but the others in this world. 

She also remembered that all of the plants in this realm were scientific anomalies that had her mind buzzing with questions. These flowers had different purposes, each purpose confusing her more and more as she dug through the dirt and pulled the roots of the plants from the ground to place in her basket.

She had explored the light fog until her basket was full to the brim with unknown greenery. Once satisfied, she went back to her cabin. She was no longer upset, but rather excited to study and learn about the nature of this new place once she was in the safe haven of her room.

All of that led to where she was now. As soon as she walked through the screen door, she paused. Claudette’s eyes widened a bit as she gazed upon the person standing by her desk. 

“Oh, hello.” She called out, placing the basket of plants by the door of the cabin. “Are you another survivor?” She asked with a small tilt of her head. 

You didn’t respond at first. Your eyes just intensely stared at one of her notes, as though you were contemplating on saying something. 

“I see your memories still haven’t returned.” You chose to respond before you finally brought your full attention to the botanist. “No. I’m not a survivor. I am the servant to the entity.”

“Servant?” She repeated, a frown formed on her face. She couldn’t quite remember you. Her memories were still a collection of broken fragments, but she did remember reading through her notes on things about you. 

You were the entity’s servant. The only being allowed to wander anywhere around the realm without being blocked off by an invisible wall. She didn’t know how old you were. What your name was. Or how you were even created. No one knew any of those questions. You were a complete mystery, much like your creator. 

All she knew about you was what she observed from the sidelines. And according to her notes, you were really nice and helpful. A little bit hard to talk to, but that could be blamed on herself since she was never the kind of person to easily talk to people. Other than that, she never thought one bad thing about you. If anything, her notes often wondered if you were anything like her. 

Claudette let a smile curve on her lips. “Oh, it’s you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You shook your head, your eyes subtly trailing back to her desk. “Not at all. I was just dropping off some bed sheets.”

Claudette nodded. “Okay then. Well, thank you.”

The room was silent once more with Claudette looking at you and her eyes trailing over to her desk, anticipating for you to leave so she could continue to study her notes and bring back other memories to further study the plants within the fog. Although you said you were just there to drop off some bedsheets, you didn’t make any moves to leave after completing said task. You merely stood there, eyes glued to her notes. 

“You’re wrong.”

You finally spoke, your words catching Claudette off guard. 

“Huh?”

You pointed to one of her notes.

“The golden flowers. They don’t provide any aid to healing. However, they do grant one hundred percent bonuses to your currency.” You picked up one of the fragrant primrose flowers that was cut and strayed on the desk. You then twirled the stem of the flower in your hand, your eyes gazing down at the glowing golden petals.

Claudette’s eyes widened. Taking quick strides across the floor, she hastily picked up her notes, her eyes moving from her notes to the flowers between your fingers before her gaze met yours.

“Really? Because whenever I’d burn these offerings I would often feel like they had medicinal properties that would soothe injuries. I actually remember that feeling. I often felt like I was making a difference when it came to healing whenever I would offer the primrose to the campfire.”

You nodded, “Yes, I am certain that the primrose flora do not have any healing effects. What might make you think this could be a variety of factors such as your knowledge on botany or your ability to track injured survivors, however, I don't think that is exactly what you’re referring to.”

Claudette was quick to shake her head in protest, “No! I know the difference! When I would burn any of the plants in this realm, I can tell that it was doing something different, I just didn’t know what.”

“It’s the offering itself telling you what your main objective for that trial is.” You calmly explained. “For example, if you happen to burn a bog laurel flower, then you would feel the need to focus on generator repairs. If you burn a crispleaf amaranth, you would want to focus on escaping. Each offering motivates you to focus on an objective within the trials.”

Claudette gasped, “That makes so much sense!” 

She then fumbled through her papers, her fingers excitedly flipping through all of her notes until she pulled out a brand new sheet of paper. Grabbing a pen, the woman scribbled down the things you had just taught her. She could feel her head thump in pain. Memories of the things she learned from the realm were resurfacing. Thousands upon thousands of questions filled her mind, all in which crowded her thoughts as she turned her attention back to you. 

Regardless of how her head screamed at her, Claudette ignored the pain and grabbed some of her notes. The botanist then proceeded to push the papers into your hands.

“What about these notes? I’ve noticed that the leaves on the crispleaf are highlighted with crimson veins; that's not unusual since they’re amaranth flowers. But! What is unusual is that amaranth are short-lived perennials, or commonly known as annuals.” Claudette grabbed one of the amaranth flowers from the window sill. She brought the potted plant over to you, and carefully lifted it up to your eye level.

“If that were the case, then how come this one hasn’t died?” She then handed you the potted plant. You had to attentively tuck her notes into your arm as you held onto the shining tin of the planted amaranth. 

Claudette didn’t seem to notice you juggling between her things as she scurried back over to her desk and continued to pull out more papers. 

“The Amaranthaceae are a family of annual or perennial herbs. Depending on how the amaranth are stored and what species of amaranth they are, its lifespan can vary, but typically in a stored environment they can live up to a month or two. While in the wild they can live up to maybe a few weeks or months. The point is, the flowers themselves don’t live that long!”

Taking out the sheets of paper she was looking for, Claudette walked up to you and brought you a few charts. On the pages were tally marks scribbled across each line on the paper. Another page had squares with numbers and letters labeled ‘MTWTFSS’ along with a question mark on the top of each chart.

“What is this?” You asked, your eyes scanning over the paper, surprised and intrigued by the details of the notes.

“It’s my homemade calendar!” She exclaimed enthusiastically as she leaned over your shoulder. Her hand brushed against yours as she pointed at the different tally marks on the pages. 

“At first I started tracking time by using tally marks to show how many hours have passed in this realm, but since that got overwhelming, I’ve decided to keep track of time by making a calendar.” She then pointed at the corner of the paper, “Since I have no idea which month I’m in, I’ve decided to just label them all as question marks for the time being, but each one of my months have seventy three days and each day has thirty hours. It just makes things easier since there’s no leap year…or at least not that I know of.”

Scratching her head, Claudette continued, “My memories are still fuzzy, but from what I’ve read in my notes, I’ve learned about ancient civilizations and how some old customs used to use water as a means to tell time.” 

Claudette then left your side to pull out the journal that documented that day she had talked to the two scholars. Her eyes briefly read over the notes once more before she moved her attention back to you. “I had known this realm didn’t have a way to tell time. There are no clocks, there is no sun, and there aren’t any stars to track, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least try to record how much time had passed.”

Claudette then excitedly grabbed your wrist and brought you over to her desk. She went on to point at the large claymatic bowl you had previously been studying.

“See this here? This is a water clock, also called a clepsydras. I made it with the clay I molded from the dirt,” She spoke with a proud grin before continuing, “You see, I learned that many cultures used this method to track time,” She explained, her eyes looking through her notes. Claudette then crouched down, her hand still clamped around your wrist, bringing you down to level with her in front of the bowl of water placed on the floor. “There are two types of clepsydra. Inflow and outflow, both methods needing two large containers full of water. This right here just so happens to be an inflow type. You can tell because right here are marks for each hour.” She explained, her fingers pointing to the inside of the bowl where you can see numbers and lines marked across the clay. 

Claudette turned her head towards you. You could see how bright her brown eyes shined as she gazed at you with excitement. “With this method, I can track how many hours have passed in the realm!” She exclaimed, then paused. Her smile wavered a bit as she looked back at the water with her teeth lightly chewing on her lower lip, “Well, it’s not always accurate since I sometimes don’t make it out alive in trials and I come back to find my clock has overflowed, but it works enough for me to get a guess-stimate of how much time has passed.”

Her eyes then went to you and then the potted plant that was still resting in your hand.

“This is what brings me to my question. I know in some customs these flowers are said to be everlasting, immortal- they never die! But flower meanings aren’t facts. These are annual flowers and they aren’t supposed to last more than a few weeks, but they’ve surpassed that number! These annuals haven’t wilted since being planted! Why is that? Same question goes for all the other flowers that are supposed to be annuals!”

She scooted herself closer to you. You could see her cheeks flush with enthusiasm as she excitedly spoke in rapid words. 

“Does this have something to do with the biology of the flowers themselves? They aren’t exactly normal flowers, right? Or is it because the motion of time doesn’t exist here? I realized that like these plants, we don’t grow old. We don’t age no matter how much time has gone by! So far I’ve tracked that a few months have passed since I’ve created this clock, so it’s not a lot of time, but I can’t help but feel like it’s been maybe a few years…”

She then frowned, her mind began to stray for a moment, but before she could go back to any old memories of her previous life, Claudette shook her head. She didn’t want to think too hard on how long she’s been in the realm. What mattered was the present. So with her hands slapping her cheeks, she turned back to you.

“Well, that aside, I believe that we are like these plants,” Claudette brought her hand to her chin, her mind buzzing with questions that she let slip off her tongue.  

”I don't know how it is possible, but it seems as if we are somehow frozen in space and time. Everything I know about the science of how the universe works, it just doesn’t seem to apply to this place. It’s- it’s impossible. And yet, here I am experiencing it first hand…” Claudette pursed her lips, a deep frown settling on her face, “Does this mean that this place defies all laws of physics? I know time is technically just an illusion generated by the limitations of the way we perceive this universe, but still. Time is constant, and yet…”

Rubbing the space between her eyes, Claudette let out a tired sighed, “Oh wow, I shouldn’t be getting so worked up on this. After all, I’m no quantum physicist. I just have a love for the science field, so I don’t know why I started rambling. I doubt you’re even allowed to talk about this stuff, huh? ” She chuckled, moving her gaze to meet your stare.

As for you, you were honestly not expecting her to be so vocal after you had merely just corrected one of her notes. But here you were, sitting with her on the floor with your arms full of papers and a plant in your hand, having a one sided discussion over the nature of this realm. 

For a moment, you had no idea how to reply. There were certain rules that you couldn’t break. Ever since an incident with an old survivor, you couldn’t afford to make another mistake. Not if you wanted to disappoint your creator once more.

However, this survivor wasn’t like him. She was very intelligent, yes, but also carried herself in a way that was transparent. Much like you when you first emerged from the fog. So given what you’ve seen out of this survivor, you know that she is no threat to you. If anything, she could prove to be beneficial if you were to motivate her. 

“This realm is much different from your own. Think of everything you know about the properties that make up your universe, and disregard everything about it. This place isn’t your world. It is the entity’s.” You finally explained, voice stern as you faced the botanist, “Understand this, there are some things in this realm that I am forbidden to discuss, and there are some things that are just too vast for the human mind to comprehend. So know that I will do my best to answer any inquiries you have on this realm, and I’ll let you know if I am unable to answer.”

Claudette’s eyes widened and she took a deep breath. She was half expecting you to shut her down right away since that’s what you’re known to do when asked questions on the entity. Yet, here you were. You listened to her, you conversed with her, and you were ready to answer any questions she had (with some exceptions) but that's besides the point. 

It was unexpected, but it thrilled her. Her fingers fidgeted with the papers in her hand, but she wasn’t nervous. Instead, a fuzzy warm feeling bloomed in her chest, causing her lips to curve up into a bright, excited smile.

[vgilantee]

HELLO. I am here to drop an unsolicited ask abt omegaverse bc it's been racking my brain.

okay so you said ppl can go from b -> a or o->b.

Im a fucked individual and need to know how would they react if reader/you/omega had something happen and become a beta after having been in the pack already (like years)

first and foremost all asks about my omegaverse (or any of my au’s) is always always solicited. i love talking about them. i’m a yapper (and post-writing char here to say oh boy did i yap)

so for someone to change designation, they need to go through what their body perceives as an extreme amount of trauma. the change is a survival instinct for a life-or-death situation. which is obviously different person to person but simon had to dig himself out of his own grave after being physically and sexually tortured in order for him to become an alpha.

it’s also very rare to happen, but even more so in those that are mated. the pack bond strengthens the individual so it takes that much more to alter them

but it’s not impossible

~✧

you had been gone just shy of 2 months. 58 days since you were taken, since they failed to keep you safe. 58 days of task force 141 tearing through the worst parts of the world with teeth and claws, trying to find you. 58 nights where they could barely sleep because their bones ached knowing you weren’t with them, weren’t safe. 58 days since they failed you, and one more day because they didn’t even find you. it was alex keller who brought you home.

the nurses and doctors knew better than to try and keep a pack away from their injured omega, especially a pack as formidable and deadly as the 141. so they were allowed in observation when you were in surgery and allowed to sleep in shitty cots and shittier recliners in your hospital room.

medically induced coma. give you a chance to heal and for your body to come to terms with being safe. you mind would come after they knew you weren’t at risk of hurting yourself.

when you wake, they want to smother you with affection. want to hold you and kiss you and make up for the cruelty you suffered for far too long. but they know what torture does to a person, so they hold each other and tear the edges of the bedsheets while you blink away the crust in your eyes and finally scent your pack.

johnny’s knees go out from under him when you sob.

they’re tentative, slow in reaching out to hold you, but you claw and grab and pull them in, wanting to be crushed under the weight of your pack and drowned in the scents that you’ve craved the past 2 months. they cry softly watching you sob and blubber, kissing your hands and cheeks and face. hands squeezing skin not cut or burned or thinly protecting fractured bones.

it isn’t until john presses his nose to your scent gland that he notices it. the scent of omega is gone. he pulls back suddenly and you are terrified that this is another one of those dreams you had where they weren’t really there.

he cups your face in one hand, pushing you to tilt and expose your scent gland gentle while cradling your cheek.

silently, he gestures toward your neck, and kyle is the first to move forward.

“no.” he barely whispers it, and if his cheek wasn’t brushing against your jaw you wouldn’t have heard it.

“what? what’s wrong? john, please. what’s happening?” he presses a kiss to your nose, sadness crashing over his face.

“just… just hold on, love” and you trust him, so you nod and you wait.

wait for johnny to press his nose deep against your neck, the same as he always does, before he jolts back, distraught look fighting to cross his face.

wait for simon to gently press a kiss to your scent gland, already knowing. he could smell it the moment you woke from the coma and your scent began to project. the sharp taste of citrus in the air, and the lack of anything overwhelmingly sweet.

it’s simon who sits beside you and takes your hand, pressing the back of your hand to his lips before he looks at you with so much pity it almost suffocates you.

“i’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he takes a slow, almost shuddered breath, “you aren’t an omega anymore”

“wh- how? that’s not- no! that can’t be right! i’m- im an omega. your omega! th- no!” your voice pitches in panic as you hyperventilate. “i’m claimed! mated! i shouldn’t- no. no, simon you… you’re wrong i can’t-”

you let him pull you into his chest while you sob, grasping at his shirt while you scream and cry.

john hates himself. blames himself entirely. you are a member of the team, of the pack, and you were claimed by him - the pack alpha - first. in every way your safety fell to him. and he failed you.

johnny and kyle both do their best to help you adjust to your new designation. the differences in scenting, the fact that you can no longer do accurately read emotions. you’re overwhelmed and they often find you curled up in the nest that no longer provides you with the same hormonale regulation as it did when you were an omega.

johnny is always trying to be there. not force himself in but he hovers and is so bad for it. he’s always around just in case and even when you scream and throw things at him to just leave you alone, he doesn’t. he needs to be near you, for you but mostly for him. so he knows that you really are back even if you’re different.

kyle is much better at giving you space when you need it. he keeps an eye on his phone in case you text and keeps an ear out when nearby. on a few occasions he’s had to grab whatever you were about to throw at johnny and drag the scot out of the room. both their instincts are to be there and to help, but kyle knows johnny is being too much.

simon, like john, blames himself. but because he knows what you’re going through - the sudden change in the hormones and instincts, the emotional circus show that leaves you exhausted at the end of the day - he tries to make the self hatred less obvious. because of this you gravitate toward him more. he’s not overbearing and he doesn’t look at you like john has been - like everything that happened is his own fault and like looking at you hurts - so you find yourself sitting in silence with him when your brain and body are screaming at you.

~✧

[solarrclxud]

LOVE BIRDS

pairing : (modern )xiao x reader

genre: fluff

warnings : not proofread , horrom movie mention? cuddling?

a/n: youre so right omg trauma xiao is touch startved but also would throw up if you hold his hand. also when is it my fking turn.

requested by : @iota1111

You lay on your bed , bored out of your mind as your boyfriend slept soundly , curled up into a ball . You had already taken 20 pictures to tease him with later and there wasnt much else to do except doom scroll . The room was pitch dark except for a sliver of light from under the door to the living room . Just how you both liked it .

"[name]?" , xiao croaked out , his voice cracking from having just woken up , you turned to him and apologized softly , your voice barely above a whisper . " Did i wake you up ?" you asked , only to receive on response. Did he doze off again ? The bedsheets rustled as he moved closer to you , holding his arms out to you , lifting the blanket in an attempt to invite you to rest. You smiled and put your phone down on the sidetable , allowing him to cuddle into you properly.

Satisfied with your attention he sighed at the comfort of resting his head on your chest , his breath lightly fanning your collarbone and your hand scratching his head in habit. He wrapped his hand around you tighter , snuggling into your heat as you let out a small chuckle .

---

You sat on a bar stool in your kitchen , smiling as you watched Xiao move around teh kitchen trying not to burn anything . " Dont laugh!" he said , his face flustered cause of your continuous gaze. " I cant help it you look like a tomato, an im pretty sure the house wont survive this." you retorted , your hand covering your mouth in an attempt to conceal your giggles . He stopped cutting the vegetables only to look at you in annoyance , trying to look genuinely angry . That didnt last long though when you kissed him , a short peck right on his lips . He grinned , chasing your lips when you pulled away .

---

It was 4am when you woke up on the couch , both of you cuddled up into eachother , a horror movie playing on the TV forgotten . You rubbed your eyes to see Xiao curled up , hugging your arm and snoring lightly , the blue on the TV screen making him appear even paler than he was . You placed a soft kiss on his forehead as he nuzzled into you .

[shotmrmiller]

Idk, but I personally believe Buff Lady likes the awkwardness from Pathetic Simon. His flirting? Shit. His sex? Probably also bad considering he's never had a lot of it. It wasn't important to him after all.

She likes that she can just breathe and he's already on edge. There's just something fun about a man who's so useless in that department but too stubborn to back down once he's actually convinced himself to make the move.

(she'd tease him. She'd purposely do stuff to rile him up. But he's gotta be the one to ask first, every time. And god he sucks at being smooth.)

his sex being bad breaks my heart.

Simon first tried to just shove his massive cock into her without preamble. Absolutely not, I need foreplay.

Then he rubbed her left pussy lip thinking it was her clit. What are you doing?

He went down on her and was too rough, using teeth and sucking harshly. My pussy isn't a fountain drink, my clit isn't a straw.

She used lube to just get him inside, and the stretch of him was far too much, way too fast, and it plain hurt. Simon, bless his soul, really did try to hold on but she felt so good.

She was so tight, almost scorching around him that he couldn't control himself. He came.

This would be the only time she would ever be grateful that a man finished this quickly because she wasn't so sure that she would've survived him that night.

But Simon is brilliant. He's a stupid quick study. And that's what he did.

He studied.

He watched her touch herself exactly how she liked it. The speed of the tight, firm circles she drew on her clit, how her fingers crooked inside of her to reach the one spot she sometimes could, depending on the angle of her hips. Simon helped one time, and his fingers easily found it— had her coming around his hand in seconds.

During one lesson, he replaced her hand with his tongue, and she almost snapped his neck between her thighs when she reached her peak.

Big brain Simon remembered where the rough patch of skin is inside of her, and he used his cock to push against it.

She gushed around him, drenching him and the bedsheets.

He couldn't have been prouder. <- he had come minutes before but kept thrusting because he loves feeling overstimulated.

Now if only she could fix his dirty talk.

[a-soft-hornytiny]

I just did my nails and since my brain is always in the gutter and thinking about ateez I thought- what would be ateez's reaction to their significant other getting their nails done for them and who's mlt ruin them 😏

- 🍓

Reaction: Getting your nails done for them.

Requested by 🍓 anon

Genre: Fluff, Suggestive

Pairing: Ateez x reader with pretty nails (neutral)

Warnings: none

Notes: Okay this format is a bit weird and new but it works I guess haha reaction and mtl in one

I added some details about what kinda designa you would get for them but im horrible with nail designs so it’s probably bs. Hope its what you wanted hehe

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

—————————————————————-

Most

Wooyoung:

all day, all tease

“ohhhh you like me so much???” a lot of sighing

he is happy inside but he gotta do his job and annoy you

and he’s most likely to ruin them because he wants to. kinda wants to prove something. probably what an amazing lover he is xD

But he would pay for the replacement.

and because you knew that you had gotten a simple black design with his initials and some of his lines in their songs

Jongho:

he would notice immediately but wouldn’t say anything because.. idk why tbh

similar to Yeosang you would get frustrated abt it but he’d be like “yeah nah I noticed” .-.

but as he noticed it upsets you he’d be really sweet and shower you in compliments, he just has a hard time putting the gesture in context of importance

that is until he googles how much getting your nails done costs

even if its just a purple sky design like you did for him

when it comes to ruining them tho- that man is probably an absolutely beast in bed.. i assume. they wouldn’t survive for long.

Yunho:

puppy eyes, puppy design (or smth blue)

“for me?🥺 really?🥺” i CANT

takes your hands all the time to kiss your nails

cute as fuck but also kinda too much

which may ruin them

and listen: that man will be most likely be ruining them by making you grab the bedsheet to hard if you get what I mean

Mingi:

“are those for me?” you deny it at first to tease him

“oh come on they gotta beeee” whiny man

really full of himself as soon as you admit it, which is why you didn’t at first

maybe some kind of combination of a princess theme with his favourite colour… cement colour.. (i swear he is such a man)

wants to get matching nails 100%

if he ruins them, it was an accident. but since he is clumsy af it may happen xD

San:

happiest bean, so excited

why do I feel like one half of your nails would be like super serious, beautiful gold black designs and the other half is like.. san memes

like a literal mountain or the muscly cat yk

would be careful not to ruin them at first but as the time goes on he wouldn’t have the control to care haha

Yeosang:

wouldn’t notice at first and you’re kinda upset you had to say something

“Your beauty is so distracting y/n, im sorry I didnt see your nails” ironie and shade

but appreciates it, even tho he has a hard time saying it

he’d be proud that you chose a doberman design instead of a maltese one tho (yes i needa be cliche)

would he ruin them? maybe, maybe not. depends on the position👀

Seonghwa:

admires them when you don’t look

he‘s unsure if you really did it for him but as soon as he finds out he is all blushy and happy

definitely either a sakura, strawberry or star design

and he‘s to careful and tidy to ruin them

only if he’s normal hwa tho, horny hwa wouldn’t give a shit

Hongjoong:

he would adore it SO much

would go on and on about how your nails are perfect and that he feels honoured that he was the inspiration to get them done

i think for him you‘d get like a sunflower or music sheet design and he’d definitely want to get some inspired by you too

also least likely to ruin them because they are just too precious to him

Least

—————

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives @cheollipop @yeosangsbiceps @euphoric-emily16 @anyamaris @shinestarhwaa @seomisaho @starillusion13 @taemdivez

—————

[sukirichi]

Apologies if this is too long.

I need the Princess to snap out of it. I feel like she's still trying to find these silver linings with Rin only to be disappointed when she uncovers something else that hurts her. It's like she takes one step forward and ten steps back. I don't see how she could fall into him again over a beach house and library after smelling Iris's perfume on her bedsheets. Rin does not love you. He never did. He only wants her now because she distanced herself from him.

This is the same man who told her to her face that Iris meant the world to him. The same man who left her in the forest because of Iris. The same man who put Iris over her time and time again, and yet she folded over a house and books and thinking of children and a dog. I feel bad for her because you can't fall out of love so easily but she has to stop falling for Rin with the hopes that everything will be okay and the marriage with survive. Rin isn't worthy of her love or devotion. She needs to let him go. Now she's found out that Iris is pregnant is she just going to forgive that too the moment he shows up with another gift or if he kisses her?

Forgiveness can only be given so many times before someone takes advantage of it. And Rin has had his chances. Princess grow a backbone respectfully. Leave that man in the dust and be with someone who actually loves and respects you because it will never be Rin.

no worries on the long ask nonnie <3

‘he only wants her now because she distanced herself from him’ that, and her spending time with omi really triggered a flare of possessiveness within him 🥹 this all makes sense, a very valid response me thinks. but hmm i don’t think reader will forgive him that easily now that she knows iris is pregnant, but also we can’t say for now what she’ll do next.

‘forgiveness can only be given so many times before someone takes advantage of it, and rin has had chances.’ oh, word. and i think rin knows this too - that she’ll keep on forgiving him again, but to what extent will he keep pushing until that grace to forgive has completely run out? i think when that moment comes, when he thinks he’ll be forgiven again, and she finally turns her back on him, it might just destroy rintaro completely

[thetavolution]

ROSALIND

Full name: Rosalind Nightshade Name meaning:  Rosalind: lovely rose or gentle horse; Nightshade: self-explanatory Pronouns: She/Her Race: Zariel Tiefling Age: 36 Orientation: Pansexual Romance: Rolan Class: Cleric Subclass: Knowledge Origin: Sage  Theme song: Perfect by Alanis Morissette, jealousy, jealousy by Olivia Rodrigo, Stripped Bare by Alyson Stoner, Toxic Thoughts by Faith Marie, and Liability by Lorde

Personality Rosalind is an academic through and through. She is endlessly curious and incredibly well read. She will info dump on almost any subject if you let her. Her curiosity has led her to research a myriad of topics from medicine to the history of clowning in Faerûn. Once the flood gates open, she doesn’t hold back.

Her curiosity often veers into nosiness. She’s a gossip and she won’t deny it. She was known to have the scoop on everyone at work. She knew what everyone was up to and she had thoughts on all of it.

She teeters between over-confidence and utter self-hatred. There are some topics she can be smug about in a Gale-like fashion (I say, affectionally). But she’s called herself the stupidest person she knows on many occasions. She’s a perfectionist. If she isn’t immediately good at something she flounders and gets upset. She’ll try to cover her embarrassment with faked disinterest or outright calling whatever it is stupid. Rosalind will beat herself up repeatedly if she isn’t perfect or the best at something. She’s the girl who would have a meltdown if she wasn’t class valedictorian. 

She is highly opinionated and she’ll argue with anyone at length on certain subjects. She’ll argue with people she respects, too. If anything, lengthy debates seem to be one of her love languages. She can be pretty sarcastic in her rebuttals at times. Gale is one of her best friends and those two can disagree about magical philosophy for hours, and they get smug at each other. But by the end of it, they’re closer as friends than when they started.

Others have called Rosalind high maintenance. She’s used to living a scholarly life indoors. She doesn’t take to being on the road very well and has to figure out how to suck it up for survival’s sake. She also loves the nice things in life like soft bedsheets and good food. She wasn’t rich prior to her adventure, but she had enough money to treat herself. She does like being treated like a princess whenever she can get away with it.

History Rosalind was born in Baldur’s Gate to Darius and Morgana Nightshade. Darius is a cleric and a teacher while Morgana is a wizard and former adventurer. Her mother was used to the limelight and never really wanted to let it go. Morgana had a reputation for being a hero and tales of her good deeds have followed her throughout her life, including some that bards completely made up. 

Darius and Morgana had two children, Adelaide and Rosalind. Darius and Morgana began training them from an early age to prepare them for their future careers. Adelaide became the golden child as she took after Morgana. Adelaide became a wizard just like her mother although it’s unclear how much she truly wants it for herself.

Rosalind was a dutiful student, quickly learning that her parents would withhold affection over any perceived failure. The Nightshade family was (and still is) financially weighed down by Darius’ gambling habits. Morgana was relying on her girls to support them once they were old enough, adding to the pressure the girls felt to succeed.

Desperate for approval, Rosalind upped her training when she was in her early teens. She would study at the Open Hand Temple. It was easy for people to take advantage of the naive and sheltered Rosalind. She was book smart, but lacked street sense. Fortunately, Father Lorgan took her under his wing and kept her safe.

Her time at the temple would kick off her career. She would never cross paths with Wyll prior to the events of BG3, but she did make her way into the upper political circles. While she never secured a position of power for herself, she would find ways to serve the Council of Four. She made a place for herself as a researcher. Despite all of her hard work, she never won her parents’ approval. She would work as a researcher for years, unable to rise further despite her best efforts. She was often caught up in departmental politics and drama in the work place, which affected her professional and personal life.

Everything she built would come crumbling down all thanks to a little tadpole in her brain.

Likes: Research, studying, magic, medicine, antiques, reading, gossip, being spoiled, debating people, studying languages, history, politics, philosophy, anthropology, painting, libraries, the smell of books, pressing flowers, writing letters, afternoon tea, rainstorms, and learning new things

Dislikes: The pressure from her parents, departmental politics, not being able to share knowledge, being barred from learning something, high pitched noises, weather that’s too hot or too cold, hypocrites, bugs, black licorice, raisins, and bad teachers

Fears: She’s terrified of never making anything of her life. She also fears never getting her parents to approve of her. She’s still waiting for the day for her parents to tell her she did a good job. Rosalind doesn’t want her parents to die before she can make amends with them. Rosalind also fears that her parents are right and she’s a failure.

Quirks: Does her love for debating people count? She leaves empty cups of tea all over her house. She has incredibly fancy handwriting. She also seems to have research a broad range of topics. You can expect her to come in with random information about almost everything you come across.

Mental Health: She was pushed way too hard as a child, and she now conflates success with love. It left a lasting impact on her and it’s why she struggles with perfectionism. She’s been taken advantage of in various ways throughout her life. She’s wiser now, but the scars are left behind. She struggles to trust people and she’s a little more prickly than she used to be. She constantly bounces between being too full of herself and absolutely hating herself. She struggles to find any kind of middle ground. This can lead to mood swings that seem sudden to onlookers. 

Favorite Foods: Peaches, Roast Turkey, Potato Wedges, Peach Tart, Sambocade, and Lemon Cake

Favorite Drinks: Peach Tea, Apricot Cider, Zabaione, Lambic Beer, and Riesling

Favorite Flower: Globe Amaranths, Rhododendrons, Freesias, and Peonies

Height:  5'7"

Skin: Pink Tone 3

Hair:  Rose 5

Eyes:  Flame Pink 2

Horns: Red 5 and Grey Warm 1

Color Scheme:  She wears a lot of blues with gold embellishments. If she’s not in blue, she’s usually in green or white.

Fashion Sense: She is an indoor girl and it shows. Her clothing is not really meant for a lot of time running around outside. They’re delicate and beautifully embroidered. She’s well dressed, but not interested in popular fashion. She only cares about well-made outfits that flatter her.

Family

Darius Nightshade — He is a cleric of life and he works as a teacher. He’s reserved. On the surface, he seems like the “normal” parent, but he quietly supports Morgana’s reign of terror. He has an extreme gambling habit that keeps his family struggling financially, too.

Morgana Nightshade — Morgana is a wizard. She was once a respected adventurer who retired to have a family in Baldur’s Gate. She happily eats up any and all praise, even if it’s for something that didn’t actually happen. She’s the academic version of a stage mom. She pits her daughters against each other. She feels like her daughters owe her for birthing them and expects them to take care of her and Darius.

Adelaide Nightshade — She’s Rosalind’s older sister and she’s a respected wizard in Baldur’s Gate. She would love to take over Ramazith's Tower. She’s the golden child and relishes her position, sacrificing her relationship with Rosalind in the process. It’s not clear if she would choose to be a wizard without Morgana’s influence.

[m-jelly]

Hiii can I please ask for Angst with fluff post war levi x and post war reader where reader feels guilty for not being able to protect Levi (examples: from the explosion from zeke and also him being bitten on the leg from the titan) and also blames themself for not being able to save Levi's friends (Erwin and Hange) Reader shuts themself out away from Levi because they feel like they let him down and couldn't protect him. Levi notices and talks to reader.

Sure, I don't normally make reader a scout, but I'll go for it.

Guilt

Pairing: None GN!Reader, Post-war Levi

Genre and tags: Post-war Levi, post-war reader, talking, angst, comfort, injured reader

Concept: You and Levi were the only two vets who survived the war. While the remaining 104th are making changes, you and Levi are recovering from your wounds. While you both are in the hospital, Levi notices you are keeping your distance and have a dark look. He confronts you and talks to you about what's going on in your head.

Tag list: @levisbrat25 @ladycheesington @skittlelover69 @li-anne @nyxiieluna @strawberrybunny123 @galactict3a @notgoodforlife @demosimp6

Levi sat up in his bed and groaned at his aching joints. He glanced over at you to see you had your body turned away from him. He flicked his gaze to the nurse coming over to check you both. He took his medication and waited for the nurse to change his bandages and then yours.

He gripped his bedsheet and sighed as he said your name. "How are you feeling?"

You clenched up. "Fine."

"Really? You have burns and you lost the bottom part of your right leg." He saw you flinch. "How are you fine?"

You sat up with a void look in your eyes. You gripped your bed hard making your knuckles white. "I can take it. I'm fine."

"Tch, don't bullshit me. We lost everyone and we're hurt." He looked at his hands. "I know I'm not fine and that's okay."

You shook a little. "I shouldn't be here. Erwin or Hange should be here."

Levi shifted a little as he said your name softly. "What are you saying?"

"I don't get it. I'm not special. I can't make a difference to the world but they did and could." You shook more as you sobbed a little. "I should have taken Armin's place so you didn't have to choose between him and Erwin."

Levi shook his head. "Your thoughts are misleading. Erwin wanted to lead the charge and only Armin could do what he did. You were busy saving people and healing them. You're our prized medic. You were working hard."

You stared at Levi and looked like you hadn't slept for days. "What about Hange, huh? Hange pointlessly gave their life away. You all needed Hange. I should have done what she did."

"Not with the burns you had. Hange did it because they were done with this all. They wanted it to just end. You still had a drive to live."

You stared at his scars. "The thunder spears."

Levi lifted his hand. "What happened to me was my own stupid fault. I hooked up Zeke to all that shit. I made a mistake in doing that. I underestimated his drive to live." He let out a long sigh before saying your name. "You can't save everyone. We've both learned that the hard way. We've lost so many and it's shit, but we shouldn't push each other away because we feel guilty for things out of our control."

You smiled softly. "You're right...I just...I wished I had done more."

"So do I." He stared at your leg and then the burns on your arm and neck. "When I see the wounds you have I think about what I could have done to prevent it. I should have acted faster to save you, but I didn't. I should have stopped Erwin from going to battle. I should have given Hange a reason to keep going. I should have never left my friends. There is a lot of I should have. We cannot change the past, only learn from it. No matter how much we want to change our story, it's not possible. We should embrace what is written down in our life's story, it makes us who we are."

You let out a long sigh. "You're right. I cannot change what happened no matter how hard I wish for it. If I keep regretting and letting guilt take me over, then I cannot live my life. I will be forever held back at every turn. I need to push forwards and keep walking. I can take what happened to me, learn from it and teach others. People can learn from us."

"Exactly." He hummed a laugh. "Plus, I don't want you getting rid of me yet."

You laughed. "You saying I'm stuck with you, Captain?"

"Call me Levi and yes, you're stuck with me."

[redheadspark]

Could you do number 1 and 2 with Jack Russell from Werewolf By Night? 🥹🐺✨

A/N - This is great! I loved writing this for Jack, thanks for requesting this!

Give Them Hell

Summary - You shook up Jack's chaotic life

Warnings - Mostly fluff!

“Amor, I’m about to head out!”

“Make sure you have everything in your bag before you go!”

Jack snorted from the tone you were using with him: Authoritative and yet nurturing.  He was grabbing one more jacket from the closer before waltzing back over to the bed in your shared room, seeing his spare clothes folded and on the side of the duffle bag that was already open and ready for him to look in.  He knew it was your handy work, seeing some of his toiletries packed away in small bags and his placing cubes that were already filled with other clothes he would need.  He paused and smiled, considering himself a lucky werewolf to have someone like you in his life to help him organize his own chaotic mess of a life.

Jack was not an organized person, he never was really and it never really was an issue.  Being a werewolf and monster hunter at the same time didn’t call for normalcy and an easy-flowing life.  In fact, it was more clustered at times and more of a mess, but Jack could live with it.  He had to, and thankfully he survived and was able to be assertive and in survival mode for as long as he could.

But that changed when you came along and literally shook up his world.

You both met on the job, being a fellow monster hunter with a decent reputation and a cocky attitude about what needed to be done and what needed to be eliminated.  You were a practical hunter, no-nonsense, and had things for a reason.  No wonder you two gravitated to each other so well since opposites attracted one another.  Even your best girlfriend saw it when you were describing Jack to her after meeting him for the first time.  You were ranting about his clustered organization and his naiveness, but you also admired his easygoing attitude and his positive view of life.  Your friend eyed you, a smirk on her lips.

“You’re gonna fall for that boy,” She warned you.  And you did

Now, a few years later and married, you shook his life up to the core.  He loved that you looked after him and adored him, so much so that you were getting him into better habits.  From the food he ate down to what he was using for his bedsheets, Jack could tell you wanted what was best for him.  You joked that he was utter chaos, but handsome utter chaos in the end.  Jack didn’t care, he still saw it as the sun and the stars rolled into one for loving someone as untidy and messy as he was.  You never saw any of that, you saw a good and tender heart in an unforgiving world of monsters. 

The main thing you helped improve with Jack was his transformations and how to prepare for them.  Before you came along, Jack would wing it.  Maybe take one change of clothes for the morning after and a towel or two in case it was a bit messy (something he learned the hard way in the past).  So when he told you what he did, you looked at him in utter shock.

“No, absolutely not!  This will not happen, come on!” You huffed, lacing your fingers together and dragging him with you out of his apartment.

“Where are we going?” He asked in shock, seeing that fierce look in your eye as you looked back at him.

“We’re going to get your shit together, literally!”

You got him a duffle bag big enough for a set of clothes, travel-sized toiletries and drug store medicine, dry food and electrolyte powder for water, a new water bottle with a built-in filter, running shoes, and coffee packets to brew his coffee in the morning along with a coffee travel mug.  Jack was amazed at your shopping and handiwork as you assembled his bag in front of him, or organizing tricks kicking in and making things fit where they shouldn’t.  When you were done, the bag was filled to the brim with all he needed and more beyond that.  He felt his heart well, knowing fully well that you weren’t just doing this because you wanted to, but you were looking out for him and showing him you loved him.

So Jack did the one thing he could think to do: he swept you up in his arms and kissed you deeply. 

Since then, you both would either work together on a job, or at least know what the other’s job was in case things went south.  You were building not just a relationship with one another but a partnership too, which Jack knew he needed all this time too.  Not that he didn’t mind working alone, he was used to that for years.  But it was safer for him to have another ally on his side or someone who would help him if he needed it.  You were just as independent, but you figured out quick that Jack had a protective side that would come out when you were in danger.  It was rare, but he wouldn’t play with your life since you were too important to him now.  

You both were a match made in heaven, domestic monster hunters if you will.

Jack folded his bag and tucked it inside the bag, then nothing a small parcel that was against the side of the bag and he cocked his head at the sight.  It was routine now that he knew what to pack or not to pack, a great habit you taught him and he picked up right away. So for him to now see a parcel with your name on the top on a folded piece of paper, he was now intrigued.  It was your handwriting, and while you were cleaning the kitchen from your thread breakfast together, Jack took out the parcel from the bag gently and then opened the folded paper to see your writing inside.  

“Jack-

I love you to the moon and back, and even beyond.  Be safe and come back to me in one piece.  Enjoy the treats, and make this world a better place.  It already is with you.

~Your love”

Jack’s eyes misted from the note, seeing the cursive in your writing and feeling the love seep out from the ink into his heart.  He poked his head into the parcel, a massive smile on his face at the sight of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.  

Jack knew he had been dealt with unlucky cards all his life, and he was sat peace with it since he knew life was not fair for those who would work the hardest.  But you were the one piece of his life that changed everything: you brought him light from the darkness, you brought peace from the chaos, and most importantly you brought him love when he didn’t feel it for himself.  

Jack walked out of the bedroom and saw you placing the last dish on the drying rack.  He immediately stood behind you and wrapped you in his arms, peppering your neck with kisses and small love bites as you giggled and leaned into him.

“I take it you found my note,” You teased, though Jack grinned against your skin.

“I’m one lucky wolf to call you mine, Amor,” He hummed, squeezing you a bit tighter, “I love you, so so much.”

You turned in his arms and cupped his cheeks in your palms,  You saw the love in his bright eyes as you pressed your forehead against his and smiled.  He taught you how to be soft and kind to yourself, showing you to let your guard down and be more vulnerable when needed. 

“I love you more,” You hummed to him, kissing him on the nose as you gave him a stern look, “Take care of those monsters and come back in one piece to me,”

“Always,” He vowed as you smirked.

“Give them hell,” You added, seeing his smirk right back at you.

And he did, knowing the love of his life would wait for him to return.

The End.

[wxntrfrostt]

I GAVE ASTARION A CAT! I DID IT!! Also yes I'm aware that the title sounds like a bad teen romance novel but like. Mannn.

I think people also read fics here?? I've never posted writing stuff here before, buttttttt why not.

It's Astarion post game w/ a male durge and it's 3.5k words of weirdos and fluff + a very disgruntled kitten. Enjoy. (Also spoilers, obviously)

~~~~~

Astarion listened to the pitter-pat of rain falling against their window. He curled into himself tighter on their bed, smooth silk sliding against his skin and complimenting the comfort of the rhythmic tap of rainfall.

Tav had been hesitant to set up their bed next to a window - they’d set up a curtain thick enough to block the sun, though it was nonetheless risky - but Astarion had insisted, for the moments like these. The curtain was parted now, and Astarion watched the grey sky far above. Their manor had bordering buildings, but from the top floor, they didn’t block much of the view. Astarion had made sure of it before letting Tav accept the offer.

The aftermath of the Absolute left so many residences without live bodies to fill them, and as the heroes of the city(and because most of the people in charge were dead), Tav and Astarion had practically been left their pick of the city.

Astarion reached forward to rest his hand on Tav’s empty spot, running his fingers idly over the wrinkles left there. It was imagined, Astarion knew, but it always felt like his warmth lingered even after he was gone, clinging to bedsheets so as to never Astarion truly alone.

It was rare for Tav to go out at night without Astarion, but the rain forced Astarion to remain behind. He didn’t worry for Tav’s safety, nor his charismatic guile, in dealing with this new contact, but it was the itch of not knowing that clawed at him.

Astarion scooted over to press his face to the abandoned spot. Tav’s smell clung to the silk like heat and copper, and Astarion let it wash over him, calming his flighty nerves.

The rain continued to beat at the rooftops while Astarion watched the clouded, starless sky through one eye. What faint moonlight survived the cloud cover fell over his face in a gentle wash. Tav would be home soon, either with a lead on how to let Astarion walk in the sun again, or with new blood on his hands.

Astarion’s fist tightened in the sheets. Soon.

No sooner had the thought left his mind than there was a click from downstairs. Astarion’s heart jumped and he threw himself from bed. It took a moment of rushing to the door with wild abandon to remember his sensibilities, to slow down before darting out of the room. He stopped, donning his calm, collected demeanor before moseying out into the foyer with renewed panache.

Astarion leaned one hip against the top of their bannister and crossed his arms over his bare chest as Tav shuffled in on the floor below, dripping with rainwater and clutching a strange cloth bundle to his chest.

The sound of the rain and world outside shut off with the snap of the door shutting closed behind him.

“You’re dripping everywhere, my love,” Astarion said from his place above. Tav looked up and ran his eyes over Astarion’s shirtless frame. The quick dart of his eyes away from Astarion wasn’t subtle enough to hide his appreciation, and Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the sweetness of Tav’s decency.

“You sound so pleased to see me,” he chuckled at Astarion with demure poise, slicking his hair back with his free hand. Astarion uncrossed his arms and placed a hand on the bannister, letting his fingers slide down the fine wood as he descended. Tav’s tracked him with interest every step down the stairs.

“What news of our new friend?” Astarion asked, casually. He was sure to keep traces of anything beyond passive interest from his voice; he wouldn’t show how the question ate at him.

“Never showed up.”

Astarion’s heart sank silently, but he smiled.

“Mmm, a shame,” he said, feigning disinterest as his fingers left the bottom of the bannister with a flourish. He sidled across the floor with sultry languidity. “I would have liked to meet him.” Astarion raised a hand and tightened it into a claw- underlying intention made clear with a smirk.

“Terrible business for him, really,” Tav said, matter-of-fact, as Astarion closed the distance. “Men always taste better when drunk with vengeance, after all.”

And there was the coy grin, so subtle on his lips that it would be lost on anyone else, every statement whimsy for the two of them to laugh about.

Astarion pressed his palm to Tav’s cheek, letting his fingers thread through wet strands and cup around his jaw. “You know me so well.” Astarion eased forward, teasing his lips at Tav’s own, when movement caught in his lower vision and he stopped.

He’d forgotten about the strange bundle Tav held.

Did it just…move?

Astarion untangled himself from Tav’s side, distracted from the half-tense of Tav’s hand as he stopped himself from reaching out.

Astarion’s brow furrowed as he saw the tiniest squirm of the bundle.

“Ah, yes,” Tav began, sheepishly, after he saw what drew Astarion’s attention. “I did find something else.” The tiefling began to rummage around the cloth folds, seeming…

Bashful? Astarion stepped back and crossed his arms, as though that couldn’t possibly be the conclusion he’d come to. What in the Hells would make Tav, of all people…embarrassed? Even in his mind, the notion sounded ridiculous, comedically so. Genocidal scourge and former Bhaalspawn - timid like a blushing virgin. Hah! That was almost more intriguing than whatever was in the cloth in the first place, but not quite. It only made Astarion more painfully intrigued.

Tav paused in his rifling, seemingly come to the precipice of whatever it was, and shot Astarion a nervous, sidelong glance.

Astarion quirked his brow and nodded towards it, impatient. Go on, then.

Gently, Tav pried a final layer of cloth away to reveal the head of a dirty, sopping wet kitten.

“Oh,” Astarion breathed.

The kitten glared at him through bleary eyes, so covered in dirt and grime that he couldn’t even tell the color of its coat. Its head wobbled, and it narrowed its eyes at Astarion. Tav held it awkwardly in his arms and stared at it like he wasn’t sure quite what to do. Tav had lost his animal speech when he’d lost Bhaal’s patronage, and now didn’t understand how to behave around them, acting like they were some alien creature beyond comprehension. The awkwardness was endearing, if a bit of a pain.

“I uh-” Tav started, voice betraying his uncertainty as he stared at the little thing. The kitten grunted and shifted around in its blanket prison, prompting Tav to hold it a little further out from his body. “Well. Figured you might want a companion. Y’know, to keep you company during nights like these- or for the day, when I’m asleep,” he added with an uncharacteristically expressive nod of his head to the side.

Astarion creeped towards the kitten, trying to assess the pit in his stomach. He teased Tav with comfortable ease of habit - “Oh please, you just don’t want to admit you’re the ‘saving kittens’ hero type now,” came easy - but his throat clogged.

Tav grumbled but didn’t deny the accusation, and watched as Astarion extended a finger in front of the kitten’s nose. It lifted its head and sniffed, and Astarion saw hints of - well, what might be white fur, beneath the muck. After a moment of sniffing and pondering, the kitten pulled back and gently, wobbly, butted its forehead against Astarion’s knuckle. The poor little wretch was filthy, but Astarion found that fact easy to ignore for now as he scratched his fingernail behind one of its ears. The kitten stretched its neck and purred.

Astarion’s heart seized. The kitten’s purr was weak and broke off momentarily often, but it was enough.

He found it troublesome to speak.

“Well,” he said, voice wavering. “No one else will take care of the poor thing, so we might as well.”

He stated it like sheer simplicity of fact, rather than a proposition of kindness. Tav smiled at him in a way that told him he didn’t at all believe Astarion’s act of practicality, but he nodded, unwilling to break the unspoken illusion. For that, Astarion was grateful.

~~~

The kitten was, rather noisily and with great displeasure, sitting in a small tub of rapidly dirtying water while Tav gently scrubbed her with his hands. They’d moved to the empty space of their bedroom - Astarion sitting comfortably on the bed and watching while Tav pulled up a stool and began to work. Tav’s clothes dried next to the hearth that crackled at the back end of the room, and their respective dinners for the night sat on the nightstand. Astarion placed his fingers on the neck of his chosen definite-not-wine bottle and lifted it to rest next to him on the bed top, while Tav’s hot but uncooked cut of raw meat sat in a puddle of its own juices on a porcelain plate. Astarion looked at the grisly slab over his nose and sniffed with displeasure. Tieflings.

Astarion sat back against the headboard and raised the bottle to his lips while watching Tav. He eyed the muscles in his arms as they tensed and the tendons of his hands flexing as his fingers worked out the mud and gunk from the kitten’s fur. She squirmed in his hands, mewing indignantly as Tav handled her.

It was all well and fine, of course, Astarion knew those hands well. Despite the claws and gnarled knuckles, Tav had a gentle, if firm, grip, and Astarion was as happy to watch it as he was to be subject under it.

He watched with growing amusement as the kitten flailed about wildly, her indignant rage mounted to a high. She sunk her teeth into one of Tav’s knuckles and growled. Growled! Astarion loved her already.

Tav’s brow furrowed and he frowned. He was cute like that, all stoic consternation and hard eyes. He held the kitten up in the air with one hand, both bodies dripping water as the little she-devil continued to sink her little fangs into his finger, eyes narrowed and boring into his.

“It’s not nearly as charming as when you do it,” Tav said, his voice level. If Astarion hadn’t known his monotone humor so well, it would’ve been lost on him that he was joking.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said, smirking and gesturing with bottle in hand. “She’s got some spunk. I like it.” He made a show of dragging his eyes up Tav’s bare neck. “Now, if you’re wanting a more practiced predator, I can oblige.” Astarion bared his fangs in the light.

A slight flush rose to Tav’s face, but he kept his face unresponsive and returned to dunking the kitten without giving Astarion his pleasure in a reaction. Astarion smirked and rolled his eyes. You darling man, you’re not nearly as subtle as you think. Astarion would just have to try harder.

Tav pressed his thumb into the kitten’s forehead and rubbed, and the little thing seemed to have trouble deciding between being mad about it or enjoying the attention. “I wouldn’t mind,” Tav said, the flush creeping down his neck, “but finish your dinner first. Dessert comes later.”

Astarion chuckled and flashed his teeth again. “You spoil me,” he cooed, before settling back into his leisurely position, already salivating at the thought of Tav’s blood coating his tongue.

Tav glanced momentarily at the bottle in Astarion’s loose grip. “Who is that, by the way?”

Astarion hummed and pursed his lips, holding the bottle up to the light. In a moment of sick humor, Tav had proposed the idea of labeling the victims they drained, and Astarion had found it entertaining enough to start doing it. He looked at the scrawl.

“It’s titled ‘dumbass bhaal-thrall.’” The title wasn’t one who could put a face to. He looked to Tav for an explanation, who was pressing his lips together in an attempt to hide his self-satisfied smile, but his eyes twinkled with pleasure that betrayed him.

“How very elegant. I’m not familiar,” Astarion said, with a performative arch of his brow. “Care to enlighten me?” he asked. And if Tav’s face was to judge, he very much did care. Tav had that look about him that he got after successfully tormenting his prey - much like the cat who ate the canary - but he kept his voice calm.

“You were out of the house, then,” he said, “I found one of the cultists hanging about, stalking around our doors. Had some choice words for me - epic monologue and all that. Was intent on killing me and gathering glory for Father in ending my life.”

Astarion drank in the darkness carved into the lines of Tav's face as he told the story. Bhaal had killed his uncontrollable murderous urge, but Tav’s affinity for dark pleasures had remained. Especially for his former family.

Astarion inspected the viscous blood coating the glass interior with passive amusement. “Well. I bet that worked out well for him.”

Tav hummed, pleased. “Indeed.”

The kitten mewled as Tav picked her up by the scruff of the neck and gently shook her, encouraging the water to drip faster. Then, he placed the small thing on a nearby towel and shook his hands out in the tub.

Astarion sipped his dinner while Tav wrapped the little cretin up and towel-dried her. She wobbled back and forth as she got jostled, never finding balance, with her tail stuck straight up in the air. Spriteful little dear.

Tav stood, grabbing the tub of filthy water.

“I’ll go toss this. Don’t let her get to my steak.”

Astarion peered out of the side of his eye to the slab of bloody meat. ‘Steak,’ the man said. What a kind word for it. Nonetheless, he nodded, and Tav left with the small tub on his hip.

The kitten looked around in confusion on her little towel mountain, unsure what to make of the world she found herself in now that there was nothing to scream at. Astarion watched her for a few moments from his perch and she wandered around, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and leaning down.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it,” he said. He set his bottle on the floor to instead prop his hands under his chin while the kitten continued her adventure. “To be left without a foe to face, no vengeance to be gotten. You poor thing.”

She turned to face him and wandered forward, one awkward kitten step at a time.

“Now, don’t go telling him this,” Astarion whispered, as though telling a scandalous but delightful secret, “But I think you could take him.” Astarion nodded towards the door, where Tav had left. “Devour him whole, if you wanted. You’re a fearsome little darling, I can tell.”

The kitten, having no comprehension of language or bloodlust, wandered dumbly over to Astarion and braced her front paws against his shin. She sniffed the air haughtily and then meowed, demanding something. Her claws dug into him as she attempted to jump up and climb his leg.

“Ah- ow- okay,” Astarion hissed through his teeth. He unhooked her claws from his trouser leg and picked her up. She mewed, again, but didn’t protest as he relocated her to sit in his lap. It took a new moment to reorient her surroundings, but the kitten was once again on the move in good time.

Astarion watched with adoration as she seemed content to explore his lap, once even standing up and bracing against his stomach to screech, very demandingly and very noisily, directly to his face.

“Well, aren’t you precious?” he said, staring down into her determined little face as her eyes squinted and she screamed again, this time for longer and somehow more noisily than before.

“She’s hungry,” Tav said from the door. Astarion startled and looked up. His lover leaned against the doorframe, watching them.

Astarion mock pouted, leaning back to rest on his hands. The kitten took the invitation to start crawling up his chest.

“How long have you been lurking?”

Tav smiled, his eyes soft. It was still odd to see him so at peace these days, but it was a privilege Astarion fought hard for and well cherished.

“Long enough,” he said, watching as the small white kitten mounted Astarion’s collarbone and pushed into his neck. Astarion felt the tickle of her sniffing around his ear before she paused and screamed directly into it.

“Yeah alright,” Tav said, pushing off of the door frame. “It’s food time.”

Astarion watched in horror as Tav pried the kitten from Astarion’s shoulder and reached for his plate.

“Please don’t tell me you’re about to do what I think you’re going to,” he pleaded, eyeing the platter with disapproval.

Tav stopped, kitten in hand, long enough for Astarion to see the shit-eating grin on his face before he picked the meat up with delicate claws. He bared sharp double canines and tore off a chunk before mercifully setting the raw cut down. Astarion grimaced as Tav reached his grisled fingers up to his teeth to pick away smaller chunks that the kitten sniffed and devoured readily in his hand. Like a mother bird to her chick.

“You’re disgusting,” Astarion said truthfully, but without any real bite. Tav smiled through the next portioned scrap to be ripped off and nodded to Astarion’s discarded blood bottle.

Astarion didn’t need their illithid connection anymore to know what he was saying.

Yeah yeah, go drink your dead man’s ichor, vampire spawn.

Astarion sniffed, but took his bottle and retreated back under the bed canopy. At least Astarion had class. That - he glanced over again to the horrific scene - was just barbaric.

Though, he thought with distant musing as he lost himself into the blood, part of him enjoyed the wild predator he slept beside. The sight of Tav drenched in viscera and near feral at a kill was what had piqued his interest in the first place.

Still…

Astarion watched the pair again, with growing fondness despite the display.

The softer side was nice, too. Astarion watched and curled his lip into a sneer as Tav tore off another chunk from the mother slab.

Gruesome and freakish, but nice.

“Wash your hands before coming to bed tonight,” Astarion sighed, acquiesced to this strange new life and the freaks that came with it.

~~~

Astarion looked up from his book to see the barest hint of the sky lightening from their window, and leaned over Tav to shut the curtains. Before settling back into his own spot Astarion brushed his knuckles over Tav’s face with a warm smile. His eyes fluttered in his sleep, but they didn’t open, and Astarion took his place again, gentle warmth sticking with him. He saved his trance for the high hours of the day, when the sun was brightest. For several hours on either side of that, Tav slept peacefully at his side.

Astarion flipped to the next page and read, distantly appreciating the warm back pressed against his flank.

From the front of the bed, Astarion heard a little mrrrp!, and several prickling, scratching noises as their new tenant climbed the bed with needle claws. She’d disappeared for a few hours after the bath, and now looked…significantly more like a cat, rather than a strange deformed fluffy rodent. Astarion felt a strange sense of pride at the sight. Good for her.

She spotted Astarion still awake and pranced over, tail fluffed out and stuck straight into the air.

“You’re very adventurous, you know, for a delectable little thing approaching a vampire.”

The kitten continued on, oblivious, and Astarion set his book to the side as she approached, climbing over limbs and blanket folds like great valleys and mountains.

Astarion chuckled and scratched behind her ear as she stopped at his stomach, kneading into the soft flesh there. She purred so loud for her size, and Astarion marveled at the fearless affection.

“You’re very lucky I’m so kind, you know,” he said, scratching under her chin. She closed her eyes and stretched out her neck under the attention. “Most vampires are vicious, terrible things. I am too, of course,” he said quickly, “But I respect a fellow hunter.”

The kitten settled down into a loaf on his belly, still purring her heart out and kneading at his stomach.

After several minutes of attention, the kitten had made no sign of moving and instead settled further, ceasing her kneading and setting her chin out onto Astarion’s sternum as she drifted off into kitty sleep. He continued to scratch with a gentle smile on his face.

Astarion looked to the sleeping man beside him, the rise and fall of his chest, and then to the kitten drifting off on his front. Gentle, as to not disturb either, he indulged himself with a dramatic sigh.

Life was good, he supposed.

Then, when he was sure that the kitten had fallen asleep too, he allowed himself a small giggle of joy.

~~~~~

[2309analysis]

❲ NICO ROBIN HEADCANONS ⟢ ❳

She sometimes write to her mother. In her diary, of course. About all the adventures she had, the friends she made, and it’ll start and end with “dear mother, love, your daughter, Nico Robin.”

She takes pictures of the islands their on. She studies the island’s history through it.

She likes acting because she doesn’t feel pressured to act anymore. You can tell how naturally it comes to her because she had to survive for the past 20 years acting and facading for others. It only makes sense that she’s going to be great and fast to get into character. It’s second nature to her.

Robin has a skinny waist because she barely had time to eat a proper meal. Let alone eat anything healthy. She had to scrap from trashcans and force eat stuff she probably hated.

Doesn’t have a sweet tooth. Likes to stay healthy, hence why her favorite food is a salad sandwich. Although, she would not mind have a few snacks occasionally.

She grips the bedsheets when she is having a panic attack. She cowers her head in the sheets with her hands. Sometimes it’s so bad she’ll sleep with Nami that night. It’s usually over her mother / enies lobby. She’ll be more silent that day and maybe rant to luffy.

She really likes reading outdoors. The scenery gives her a peace of mind, alongside nature’s way of giving her something to peacefully listen to. She tends to have a better time focusing when not much is going on in front or around her.

She doesn’t have much of a music taste. Although, running from so many towns and cities, she did develop a sense of what ‘good’ music sounds like. She prefers the jazzy soft and slow kinds of music. She also doesn’t mind soft rock with a little bit of a tendency to listen to those kinds of songs. (Examples: Back to the Old House — The Smiths / Heros — David Bowie / Pictures of you — The Cure / Mad World — Tears for Fears)

She likes to have occasional peppermints or small candies throughout the week. Usually two to four a week. She doesn’t really think about it much, but sometimes a small candy or fruit will satisfy her appetite.

When she was told the specific line “just being alive, just being who you are, is never wrong.” Really started her down the path of finally looking at herself and life differently. She was starting to understand that the Straw Hats would sell an arm and leg for her, so why not make that worth a while.

She’s really good at calculating. Especially on graphs and charts. Mostly with Nami’s help, but Robin pulls her weight for the average bill for the Straw Hats. She gets one of the cheapest deals.

When Robin became tired, she shifted towards a chair or desk to rest her head. Usually around nobody or in a dim lit room. Especially before Enies Lobby, and she tried to hide her sleepiness. Even though Nami reminded her daily she’s allowed to get sleep when zoro or sanji is watching for the night.

Her dark humor actually comes from her being really social awkward. Especially since the Straw Hats’ are really the only friends she has and lines with. Her humor is basically a desperate attempt to be funny or lighten up the mood.

Shes the reason Luffy can write sentences. She’s the reason zoro can read. She’s the reason they’re allowed to read chapter books.

She has a childish imagination because she still wants to connect with her child-self. She wants to give her the colors she didn’t have when she was really a child. To amend for the coldness built through and up in her life. It also makes it very easy to connect with children when she is taking care of them.

Robin actually adores it when she is being taken care of. Especially by the crew; even more so by them. When she is overwhelmed by an opponent, and a Straw Hat tries to come and help her, her heart is uplifted and she becomes more motivated to finish up the fight. Knowing she can lean on people to help her. Especially franky, brook, and luffy.

She wouldn’t mind having or listening to any other kinds of music other than soft rock (70 - 90s) and jazz. She enjoys seeing others jam out and it makes her happy; which can help tolerate their own taste.

Robin probably has a dimple-smile, no, I mean her genuine smile. Since she’s a normalized smiler, but a smile? No, that’s rare. So when she smiles, small soft creaks form around her lips / cheek to form a small lump of skin around her. It’s a little thin, and hard to see from afar, but it’s there.

She has acne. Yet it’s show mostly around the back side of her neck. (Projection) She has a soft spot that has about hundred acne’s covering themselves. Their little time lumps of folded bumps imbued with each other. It’s hard to get them normally, but when they go shopping she searches for certain kinds of skin care. This started to be discovered because of the constant pressure building up on her skin. Plus, climate change.

She has sensitive skin. Not the slight touch or easily burnt, but the skin that gets acne and bumps. Mostly around her back and shoulders, plus soft intimate areas like thighs.

[cadcreates]

Btw I made a PiratesSona! (That was like the first thing I did to get into the vibe but shhhh)

Her skin is darker cause she's out on sea all day and her hair is darker because the original color didn't fit with the skin.

I also made a backstory, if you're interested. I tried to keep it as short as possible, but uh, it's still kinda long. And if you have questions about my character, please ask! There's still a lot I have to say about her

Anyway, here's the story:

When she was only ten, Cad's parents gave her to a noble family as a servant.

She didn't get paid, but she got three meals a day, a roof over her head and a relatively comfy bed to sleep in. It was enough to keep her alive and healthy, more than what she had before. So she doesn't blame her parents. Not at all....

Nonetheless, she longed for freedom. Whenever she had a moment to rest – so really, only right before going to sleep – she dreamed of leaving the glittering lights of the mansion behind and chase the glittering lights of the stars instead, feel the wind in her hair and the sun on her skin. But she knew little of the world, much less how to survive on her own, so she stayed and kept dreaming.

Her chance came when she was sixteen. It came on a huge ship, with sails dark as night and a hull of weathered spruce, sailing right to the shore the mansion was standing at.

Rogue pirates.

They pillaged the place while the nobles were away and took everything that wasn't attached to the wall and floor. Anything that was too big or invaluable got destroyed. They took jewelry and clothes, but they also took silverware, paintings, candles, cooking utensils, bedsheets, horses and even... the staff?

They threatened everyone to get them to comply – and set the mansion on fire, so there wasn't a place stay at anyway – but all they did was bring them to the nearest town, where they sold some loot, including the horses, and set the staff free. Except for Cad.

The rogue pirates kept her on the ship, taught her how to survive, navigate and sail. They even taught her how to fight. The captain themselves gifted her a pair of daggers.

Once she reached adulthood, they brought her to a harbor, where she was to find herself a job. What she didn't realize, however, was that they meant a proper, legal job, not a quest or a bounty as the crew took on sometimes. She was left to fend for herself, with nothing but her daggers and a bag of gold. They never intended for her to become a pirate.

But she wanted to become a pirate. She loved being out at sea, chasing the stars, loved the wind in her hair and the sun on her skin, seeing places she could only dream of before. So after she recovered from basically being kicked out, she set out to get a ship and become her own pirate. And since her crew had left her, she needed to find a new one.

After all, an adventure is best enjoyed with friends.