#and when you mask for your whole life so you don't know who you are

[leidensygdom]

Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!

So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.

So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!

Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)

This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.

On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).

This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.

Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.

Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.

Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')

One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!

Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.

However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!

Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.

On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.

Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)

[name-is-no]

5:13

Kim Mingyu x Male Reader

Genre: nsfw, suggestive, Angst

Warning/s: Mentions of mental illness, sexual innuendos, groping, unprotected sex

You enter your office humming while flowers on your hand and salad and water on the other

As you reach your table you put everything down and took your phone out of your lab coat

As you were scrolling through it you felt two hands at the side of your waist which made you flinched

“And who are those from?” a familiar voice whispered through your ears

You froze ‘how is he here? what is he doing outside his containment’ you thought

You just stood there as you put down your phone not wanting to upset the gigantic man behind you who is leaning his chin on your head

“Little Prince I asked you a question” he said softly. “F-from a friend” you said scared of whatever the man is planning

“Don’t lie to me prince” he said pulling you closer

“I-I’m not lying, the hospital gave it to me as a welcoming gift” you said trying not to anger the taller male

You’ve been working on this asylum for almost a month now, the tall man behind you is Kim Mingyu, a psychopath, 6'2, 27, No known family member as he was moved here from prison when he was already in his 20s, he's a former gang member who lead an entire heist

They say psychopaths don’t feel anything, but to Mingyu, you were everything, he wanted you, he didn't understand why, all he knows is he wants to kill anyone who tries to get near you

He kissed the back of your head "You've been out the whole day, I missed you"

You gulped trying to find the strength to ask him a question "Gyu?"

He hummed at your sweet call, "Why are you in my office and not in your room?"

He smiles and giggles a bit, "Little Prince, I've been in this asylum for so long, I know every corner and ways of this place"

His hands that were once on your waist started roaming your chest. "Ahh— Gyu stop" You tried to grab his hands

"Sweetheart we've done this thing before why are you resisting now?" He said

It's true as twisted as it is, you have slept with a madman, at least before you knew he was a psycho, before he got in here, you met him at a bar hooked up and tried to keep in touch, frequently texting, calling, phone sex wasn't good enough but it was the only thing you guys could do while being apart

But one day he never called back, for almost two months you thought you'd never see the greatest sex of your life, yes, he was the best, he knew how to eat your ass, his roughness and mix of his gentle caresses, his big cock, you wanted it but sadly you only got to experience it once, your first and last sex

That is until you were assigned to this asylum, the moment he saw you, not even a week he had you, in his room, one leg up and his big cock thrusting inside you, his warm and huge body wrapped around your figure, as if he doesn't want to let go

"I'm gonna cum inside you" He said, "No, please don't" you tried to resist, "Little Prince, that wasn't a question" he grunts and smirked before sloppily filling you up, continuously thrusting to reach his high, "fuck" he whispers in your ears which was your last straw before reaching your high

Your memory was vivid as if it was yesterday, after that hot and rough sex you were covered in bruises and love marks and right now you were sure it would all lead to the same scenario again

He hugged you tighter, "They're coming"

You're brows furrowed at his statement as he stopped playing with your nipples

Suddenly the window of your office was shattered as a man comes in with ropes and guns

Mingyu grabs your phone, salad and water, making sure you still have all you need before carrying you, well dragging, with his other hand

He handed the man in a mask your stuff before Mingyu grabbed the other rope the man handed him

"Let's get out of here my Little Prince" he whispered and just like that you guys were being lifted by the rope inside a helicopter and as you guys seated comfortably the helicopter makes it's escape leaving you stunned and too shocked to react

Mingyu has his arms wrapped around your waist and kissed the side of your temple, "Let's leave the country" he whispered and you couldn't say anything

A/N: This was a draft from 3 years ago, lol

[corpse-ghoul]

it's so fucking to hard to self-diagnose when you don't even remember most of your childhood

[transgender-catboy]

I love my friends

[lovifie]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

Masterlist - Taglist Form

Next Chapter

Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission. 

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside. 

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size. 

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him. 

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was. 

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning. 

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it. 

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny. 

Not because they would have not loved him back. 

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask. 

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one. 

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body. 

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now. 

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast. 

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest. 

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing. 

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too. 

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms. 

Warm and breathing. 

He can only imagine what you went through. 

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse. 

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him. 

He already knew that. 

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment. 

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny. 

A scarred, angry Johnny. 

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease. 

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel. 

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately. 

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart. 

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else. 

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other. 

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning. 

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes. 

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked. 

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him. 

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't. 

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest. 

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon. 

Not the greatest first impression. 

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years? 

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour. 

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection. 

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him. 

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up. 

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him. 

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you. 

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat. 

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care. 

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name. 

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear. 

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length. 

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed. 

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn

[gremlingottoosilly]

Konig X Reader who works at an underground bar as a waitress wearing one of those iconic playboy bunny suits

(I got with a bit of mafia!konig because I am a mad woman) You hate your job. It's only natural that you do. No one would ever like working in a place like this - barely legal, filled with suspicious customers, only one grade above actual sex work. The payment isn't even that good, but you needed someone who would hire without a lot of questions and tips sometimes are better than your whole normal day job makes in two weeks. Meeting with the Vienna crime scene isn't something you wished for when you moved but, then again, at least it's Vienna's crime scene. Nothing too bad. Could be worse. Much worse. You hate this stupid dress, but at least your regular is here. Yes, this place is the worst one to have a regular in, but you're managing to find the best things out of a bad situation. You just...you need a bit of something nice in the pure shit of your current life. Konig provides just that. Yes, he is pulling you on his lap every time you come to him with a drink. Yes, he is fidgeting with the side of your fishnets and rips them away with the speed of light. Anxiously grips your hips and forces you to grind on his dick as you readjust and fire his cigarette. The corner of your dumb-standing bunny ears are poking at his mask, and you both giggle. You know that he has a gun and that the giant thing poking at your clothed pussy isn't it. You don't really care because the guy would respectfully grab your tits a few times, call you beautiful in three languages at once and then leave you a tip that would be enough to cover half of your month expenses. You know that this bar is a shitty place, an illegal place. It's no wonder it grows its own little crime cell - the place ought to be shot up at some point. You just hoped that the dumb suit would provide you with more opportunities to escape...alas, this is kinda impossible. You don't even think about getting out of here alive before you feel someone yanking you by your neck. Pressing you into a big, muscular chest with a familiar smell of expensive cologne, gun oil, and blood. In all of your days serving Konig as your regular customer, you never thought that he would be down bad enough to actually buy your hand in...well, not exactly marriage, but getting you out of the bar. And you didn't know that he liked the fucking suit so much that he bought you three copies and made you wear them around the house. His house. You are not allowed to leave, or else his good will make you into a rabbit stew. Well. At least Konig is still calling you his kleine Haschen.

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive

A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.

The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.

-

The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.

"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"

"I'd like to go home, please."

"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"

"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."

"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."

The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

I just got this idea and I trust your writing the most, I was wondering if you could write ,unless you already wrote this, where the reader steals König or ghost masks or anyone else and their reaction (nsfw or sfw is fine), thank you have a great day :))

König & Ghost's Reaction to their S/O Stealing their Mask

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Dominant Ghost, Dominant König, Territorial Military Men <3, Minor Spoilers of Ghost's Past, Mention of a Size Kink, Profanity, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You.

König

Since he's absolutely massive, the ends of his sniper veil literally reach the bottom of your ribcage.

So when König sees you wear it for the first time, he's absolutely F L O O R E D

We don't call him Size Kink König for no reason.

Goes absolutely feral when he sees you draped in his veil.

Can barely keep his hands off you.

"Maus," he husks, fingers twitching as he reaches for you slowly, cautiously, offering you the chance to go with him willingly.

"You don't know what you're doing to me."

Even without the veil, his eyes are dark, a blackness settling over them that, somewhere in your mind, your intuition, has you seeing red.

Regardless of how innocent your intent when acquiring the mask, none of that matters now.

All that does is the growing bulge in König's pants, the shortness of his breath, and his shadow settling over you as he advances on your path.

"You'll be needing that mask more than I will after I'm done with you."

And when you dare to ask "Why ?" now entrapped – eclipsed – by his frame, he just smiles, thin and sharp. Cruel.

He takes you in his arms, pulling you to him, your face almost crushed into his chest.

He laughs. A low rumble – the promise of a natural disaster.

His nose is to yours covered by the veil, a condescending gesture of his prowess and your submission. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

"Because everyone will get a free show to the fallout of an evening you’ve roped yourself into."

As if to prove his point, his hands are at your wrists before you even notice the pressure he's applying there, binding you, pulling you ever closer to him. And in that second, you know you're not leaving your little stunt – the night – unscathed.

Ghost

Hoo boy.

Okay, it's no secret to anyone who knows Ghost – really knows him – that he's suffered a lot of hardship throughout his life, hencewhy he is the way he is.

Which others may construe as cold, heartless – even soulless.

But that's only because Simon has lost so much.

So when he comes home to find you in one of his masks, smiling up at him (he can tell by the way your eyes crinkle), he's immediately whipped.

And I mean W H I P P E D.

To see the one person he can truly call his own wearing his gear is something he didn't know he needed until now.

Sure, he's seen you in his shirts, but this felt different. More intimate.

Your face was where his usually was, his spectral imprint practically morphed with the contours of your face.

Though it needn't be mentioned, he has a hard time... containing himself.

"Fuuuck me, Darlin'," he rasps, on you like a sickness as he sits on top of you, pinning you to the sofa by your waist.

"Y'look better in that than I do."

And you smile. Something intentional hidden within.

"Hmm... I doubt that." You can feel Simon's body heat rocketing beneath his clothes.

"You know I can't resist you when you wear it."

And that's all it takes to send him over the edge.

You hear his breath shake as he rolls into you ever so slightly, still restraining his whole weight to keep you intact. Something began to prod your abdomen.

"Oh, you're in for it now," he tells you. There is not a single hint of fallacy to his claim or his expression – one of barely stoic restraint.

"You won't be able to do much of anything by the time I'm through with you."

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[shotmrmiller]

Tormented by a Ghost

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: small mention of smut and simon being kinda mean

TY TO MY BETA FOR MAKING THIS 10X BETTER @c-h-a-r-n-i-k

Tired of living with your family, you decide to move out. There's just one problem— Rent is too costly to afford on your own. You complain about it to your friend, and they tell you that they know someone who's also looking for a roommate and preferably another female. Fantastic!

Your friend gives you her number and ya'll are moving in together by the end of the month. It was great. No nagging parents, no micromanagement, nothing. You loved it. Until your roommate brings her man over. And he's a fucking bully.

--

You're crawling home from a hard day at work, and you want nothing more than some wine on a quiet night. Unlocking the door, you step into the flat. The lights aren't turned on so you assume your roommate isn't home.

Dumping your bag in your room, you make a beeline towards the kitchen. As you're bent over in the fridge, your roommate's door opens.

"Hey,” you call out, "I'm pourin' myself a glass of wine if you're interested!"

Then an assertive, baritone voice speaks from behind you.

"You must be the roommate."

You give an ear-piercing scream as you jump, whipping around to face him with a hand over your racing heart.

"Fuckin' hell! No, it's okay, I don't need my hearin' er nothin'." he scolds.

"What the fuck! I almost flat-lined with my head in the fridge because of you!"

Then you get a good look at him. This monster of a man is a minimum 6'3, with a black balaclava covering his face, a black long-sleeve shirt, and grey sweats. You tried real hard to not ogle the tattoo that stains his exposed left arm. And the grey sweats, we all know why. Cursed be your fetish for thick forearms and big hands.

He leans his head back, looking down his nose at you.

"I think it'd be an improvement," he says, "You face down, I mean," and your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline as he chuckles.

You don't know who he thinks he is, talking to you—a complete stranger— like that but you aren't about to take his shit.

You sneer. "Fuck you. Yeah, I bet that's the view you get the most. Women willingly turn away to not get a look at your mug. Did my roommate ask you to put that mask on so she could face you during sex?"

He steps forward, his height allowing him to tower over you, and growls out, "You callin' me ugly?"

Smirking, you roll your eyes. Of course.

"I don't see any other reason for you to hide your face. Not that it matters to me— I'm not the one that has to tolerate it."

His eyes squint at you as he retorts, "I'm quite the opposite."

Opening your mouth, you're about to tell him that he can say whatever helps him sleep at night when your roommate calls out to the big brute in front of you.

"Ghost? What's taking so long?" she asks.

You tried and failed miserably to hide your mocking giggle at hearing his name, and he leers at you in response. "Go on, Ghost. You're being called back into the realm of the dead."

As he steps away, he says with contempt, "Dumb little bird doesn't know what she's talking about," before walking over to your roommate, looping his arm around her shoulders and going into her room.

He probably doesn't even know your name and he laid into you like he's hated you his whole life. After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you shake your head and walk towards your bedroom. Freak.

--

One day, after having your friend with benefits over in the morning for some nice stress relief, you walk him out. And fucking Ghost is sitting on the couch with his arms crossed. You quickly shuffle your friend out the door, face glowing with embarrassment.

Why was he here? Jesus Christ, now he's going to watch you do the walk of shame around the flat. Hopefully, he won't say anything. As you walk away from the door to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, Ghost speaks up.

"Well, that was pathetic."

You hang your head and close your eyes in resignation. Should've known someone as toxic as he wouldn't mind his own goddamn business.

"What now, Ghost?"

He sounds oddly smug as he says, "I've been here for a couple of hours, and I didn't hear anything coming out of your room. Sounds like he doesn't know what to do with a cunt."

Behind gritted teeth, you grind out, "Don't worry about my pussy, bud. You've got yours coming in," and you hold the n as you look at your watch, "30 minutes. Now piss off."

As you stomp away towards your room, the bottle of water all but forgotten, you hear him let out a deep chuckle. He's an asshole. A physically attractive one, sans the face, but still an asshole. You're going to have to get your friend to come over more often if Ghost is going to continue being around with those jacked arms and deliciously tight grey sweats.

Sucking your teeth, you make a mental note to ask your roommate why she gave him a key to your shared flat without asking.

--

A week later, your roommate has Ghost over and you figure it'd be a good time to get some action yourself. You send him a text and in less than 20 minutes, you're letting him in. Hugging him, you tell him to go to the bedroom. But he's not paying attention to you— he's looking directly behind you.

Turning around to look, it's Ghost. Goddamn it. And this time he's shirtless with his arms crossed and a skull mask on. God fucking damn it. Pulling the arm of your friend, he looks down at you and you tell him to go on, that you'll be there soon.

He nods, walking away with one last look at the phantom leaning against your roommate's door. Exhaling a ragged sigh, you turn back to Ghost.

"Can I help you?"

He shakes his head mutely before responding, "No, lovie, but I can help you." You shake your head at his nonsense.

"No. I'm not doing this with you."

You turn to walk away when he speaks again.

"Yer really gonna let him touch you again? He clearly doesn't know what he's doing— Bedroom's silent as a crypt. Even with those glasses he's got on, he can't find what he should be lookin' for."

Insulted for your friend, you face Ghost with a disbelieving look on your face.

"You're not seriously standing here trying to cockblock me. You—" his audacity has you stammering, "You have no idea what I'm like. Maybe I'm just naturally quiet in bed."

Ghost stares at you for a solid minute before he shrugs and goes back to your roommate.

Unbelievable asshole. Why does he have to look so good shirtless, the berk.

--

You start noticing that Ghost is there a couple of hours before your roommate gets there and you'd think it's weird if you weren't too busy being distracted by the fact that he's always taunting you one way or the other. And then one day, you question him on it.

"You do know your girlfriend won't be home until the evening? It's barely 3."

Ghost turns his head from the TV to look at you and grunts.

"Not my girlfriend." That's news to you.

"Then why you spendin' so much time over here? You're gonna have me thinkin' you like spending time in my delightful presence." you banter with a teasing smile.

Ghost continues to stare at you and the heated look in his eyes confuses you but then he turns back to the TV.

"I can't stand ya, ya daft bint."

You pretend you don't hear the muted tenderness in his voice.

--

And on a sunny day, it all comes crashing down. The boys are over again, but this time Ghost is boring holes into the back of your head as you both go into your respective rooms. You're straddling your boy's hips shirtless when you hear your roommate's furious yelling from the other side of the flat and then stomping towards the front door before it slams closed.

After your bedroom door is busted open, the bolt being broken out of the faceplate from the brutal strength behind the force— and you're jumping off the bed and crossing your arms over your exposed chest.

It's Ghost and he's staring directly at your friend on the bed.

"No." He stomps over to grab your friend by his shirt and drags him off the bed and towards the front door before tossing him against it with a nasty-sounding slam.

"Get the fuck out."

Your friend is spluttering when Ghost cuts him off.

"If I see you here again, I'm turnin’ those silly little glasses," and he taps a lens with his finger, "into contacts. Now get the fuck out. I won't repeat myself." And with that, he trips over his own feet running out the door.

You're standing in the living room. eyes are wide in disbelief. What just happened? There's a moment of silence before Ghost breaks it.

"Your roommate won't be coming back today." He walks over to you picks you up to sit you on the kitchen countertop and lifts his mask over his mouth.

"Now. You're going to come on my tongue before I fuck you and personally test out this 'I'm quiet' theory, pet." You look down at him and sigh.

"I think I'm gonna need a new roommate," you lament.

Pulling the gusset of your knickers to the side, he says, "Don't worry your pretty little head over that. I'll be moving in with you. Also, no. You don't have a choice."

He digs his fingers into your thigh and purrs against your skin, “If you find it in you to scream, my real name’s Simon.” 

And with the way his usually sharp tongue delicately rubs against your clit, you can't find it in you to argue.

A/N: dreamt of this and it had me in a chokehold.

[mncxbe]

Heyyy! I hope you are taking care of yourself and touching grass once per day! Don't want you to get isolated that much😔

I request a NSFW prompt 3! With our fav suicidal maniac! DAZAIIIII!!!😊😊😊😊😊😊

Take care girly! Pwease take care of yourself🥺🥺🥺

you're so sweet🥺🩷I did not only touch plenty of grass today, but also drank water and spent time with my besties (health queen fr). hope you're taking good care of yourself too♡

3– fingering you under the blanket during movie night with friends

The film Ranpo chose for the Ada's monthly movie night rolled in the background, but you had a hard time paying attention. I mean, how could you, when your boyfriend's hand was shoved down your panties, his skillful fingers toying with your clit.

You were snuggling Dazai on one side of the couch. The cushy blanket wrapped around your bodies at least provided the tiniest amount of privacy but despite how risky the whole situation was, Dazai wasn't planning to stop his ministrations too soon. Fuck, he was such a tease...

You were a blushing mess, rubbing your thighs together to release the tension between them. You were pretty sure you've never been wetter in your entire life– the heat provided by your bodies paired up with his incessant touches made your cunt a sopping mess, sticky slick coating his digits. Your fingers dug in Dazai's forearm as he gave your puffy clit a harsher flick, making you tremble in pleasure.

"What's wrong, bella, are you cold? Do you want me to bring an extra blanket?" asked your boyfriend in a casual tone but you could see the taunting smile etched on his lips from the corner of your eye.

The man really had some nerve– mocking your sorry state when he was the one who caused all of it. As you squeezed your thighs together Dazai slowly pried them back open with his thumb, using the side of his hand as leverage to keep your legs apart. He dragged his middle finger along your slit, slowly working his way up to your clit and drawing loose circles on it again.

You shifted your body closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder "Please, 'samu I can't–"

"I know you like it, sweetie, you're drenched. Plus, I know how much you love it when I touch you like this in public, you're such a dirty girl" he whispered against the shell of your ear, masking the brief interaction with a chaste kiss to your temple. His words made your pussy flutter and of course he didn't miss it.

"I want you to cum for me. Can you do that, pretty girl?" he cooed, pressing his ring and middle finger on your needy clit as you nodded eagerly, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

The moment you gave him the go he resumed circling your clit, occasionally rubbing it between his fingers. Each little touch pushed you closer to your high, but what did it for you were the downright obscene things he was whispering in your ear.

"There you go, baby. Can't wait to get home and eat this messy pussy out. I don't think you're gonna get much sleep tonight."

You were so damn grateful that Ranpo turned up the volume of the TV a while ago so no one could hear the choked moan that slipped past your lips when you came. Your hips jolted up and Dazai cupped your pussy, slowly rubbing your clit with his hand, helping you ride out your high and preventing you from squirming too much.

"Shh keep it down, bella. Don't want everyone else to find out what we just did, do you?"

You would've slapped the obnoxious grin off his face if you hadn't been so weak and fucked out– though you were ashamed to admit, this was probably one of the best orgasms of your life.

Your boyfriend carefully removed his hand from your panties and wiped the excess of slick on your inner thigh before wrapping his arm around your waist and snuggling closer to you. The innocent smile on his face was enough to calm your nerves. Yea, Dazai was an obnoxious bastard sometimes and his teasing never ended, but he was still the love of your life so you couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him.

[saksukei]

saving simon ghost riley’s life

masterlist | angst, injury mentions, he's being a bitch

they say some instincts are good, some are bad. yours have landed you in hell though.

being part of task force 141 had its own perks which included borderline deadly missions, a whole lot of adrenaline and a shit ton of risk taking. so that's exactly what you did when you saw a gun aimed at your lieutenant, more specifically, simon ghost riley.

you jumped in front of the gun without any hesitation, disobeying his orders to stay put. he was your senior, someone you definitely respected and looked up to. you were absolutely okay with letting yourself get injured for him. something about loyalty, right?

“a word, sergeant,” he interrupted your train of thought, his presence overwhelming the nurses present in the med bay as they stitched your wound.

“yes sir?” you thought he was gonna thank you for saving his life. apparently, he had other plans.

“who gave you the fucking right to disobey my orders?” he growls, his eyes piercing through your very soul. you imagine what it would be like if he didn't have his mask on, the very mask that is acting as a shelter from his rage.

you blink in confusion. “i beg your pardon, sir?”

“i said, who gave you the right to disobey my orders?” he repeated, his tone stern.

“i–sorry lieutenant,” you reply curtly, confused at his rude behavior. but then again, simon isn't known for his niceness.

“sorry isn't going to cut you the slack,” he retorts, voice laced with venom. “you are going to be reprimanded for failing to comply with your superior’s orders to stay put.”

and while you desperately want to argue, give him an explanation or maybe yell at him that you did save his life, you ignore and nod.

“i don’t hear a reply sergeant,” his voice booms.

“affirmative sir.”

with that he walks out.

the next couple of days are hell. rather than being treated like someone of your rank, the lieutenant decides to treat you like a rookie, making you run almost triple the amount of drills, ignoring the fact that you’ve had an injury.

when captain price decides to finally intervene on your behalf, he promptly replies about how insubordination must be set straight and that he's doing this his own way. soap and kyle both also try to intervene, but they can't seem to change the lieutenant’s mind.

you don't seem to fight it either, just silently accepting whatever task he's given. you know that there's really no room for disagreement given your current circumstances.

today he had pushed you too much though. drained, as you went back to your room, collapsing on whatever shit excuse of a bed you had. you couldn't even get up. the three firm and calculated knocks you heard on your door made you groan. who the hell was it at this ungodly hour?

“come in,” you yell out.

and in walks the man you've been dreading to see the most. the lieutenant himself.

you immediately stand up and salute him, ignoring the pain your body is in.

“at ease,” he mutters, as you sit down on your bed. the air is awkward between you to say the least, but boy does it get worse, when the lieutenant kneels and lowers himself right at your feet.

“what the hell–lieutenant?” you question.

“quiet,” he orders, his tone stern. you have no choice but to comply and watch, as he takes out a bandage from his side pocket. “your feet are bruised,” he mutters. why was he acting like he didn't know the reason? that he had been making you run triple the amounts you normally do.

“permission to say something grossly insubordinate sir?” you ask, trying to control your seething anger. what the fuck is his problem?

he nods.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell and it catches him off guard, his warm green eyes meeting yours. “first you punish me for saving your life, make mine a literal hell and then you come in here and act like you care?” your voice raises without you even realizing.

he sighs. he doesn't have a response. you're right. he has been in the wrong but he didn't intend to punish you that far. it just sort of happened. he was so angry, not with your disobedience of course, but because of the fact that he had missed a corner and let you get hurt. he was at war with himself on this one.

so simon does what he does best, ignore your anger filled speech and continues bandaging your feet.

“s–stop it,” you try and push him away. he doesn't budge and you feel yourself reduced to tears. when he does look up and see your eyes coated with them, he stops and says words he hasn't said to anyone in years.

“m’ sorry,” he admits, softly. tears begin to slide down your face, no matter how much you try and hold them back.

and out of instinct, simon reaches out. for the first time, simon riley scoops up someone into his arms, rubbing your back, muttering a thousand apologies for his behavior. god, it would be better if you had let him get shot that day, than seeing you cry like this.

he had made you cry.

“m’ really sorry,” he whispers in your ear. “i was just so upset that you got hurt because of my stupidity, sweetheart,” he tries to explain but his persona is crumbling. he's been so unmerciful to you. “i was wrong, so wrong for doing this,” he repeats again. how could he be so rude to someone he loves so dearly?

he keeps you in his arms. his hand, running through your hair, with his gloves long discard at the side.

you mutter something about how bad it is for you to be crying in the arms of your lieutenant and he tuts, saying that firstly, you should call him simon, and secondly, you can cry as much as you want.

you’re the only one he wants in his arms anyway.

[13rurururi]

♡ミ Married Life with Husband! Haganezuka Hotaru (Haganezuka x Reader SFW)

featuring six moments that will make you fall in love with him all over again

Pairing: Haganezuka Hotaru x Female!Reader

Content: SFW (but there's one suggestive line), fluff, domestic life, etc.

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA is a surprisingly doting lover who is never ashamed to let the world know about your love-filled union.

"My wife—"

At Hotaru's 16th use of the word 'wife,' Kotetsu begins to feel his thoughts blur into anything but the unending spew of Haganezuka's wife-related stories. The young boy feels grateful that the hard-headed smith found a life partner; however, Kotetsu's patience is falling short, and he definitely does not want to know about your 10-month anniversary dinner.

Kotetsu feels a brief sigh of relief against his mask when Kanamori strolls inside the quiet teahouse. "Ah, Haganezuka-san and Kotetsu-shounen!"

Kotetsu sees Haganezuka swivel his head to face his younger colleague, and without missing a beat, he uses 'wife' for the 17th time in that very hour.

"My wife's birthday is coming up. She keeps telling me not to get her anything, but I'll be damned if I don't." Haganezuka regards Kanamori with a short nod.

"Oh, my En-chan says the same! Regardless, I'll gift her at least a bouquet of flowers. Just this other day, I came home to give her a—"

At this point, the two men were in a whole new dimension, exchanging stories about their married life. Kotetsu once again begrudgingly thanks the heavens for allowing Haganezuka to be passionate about something other than swords, but he feels himself sink onto the table as he thinks,

"There are two of them now..."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA never fails to come home to you with a gift in hand, letting you know that you are always on his mind, no matter how hectic the forge gets.

"Here," he firmly places a haphazardly wrapped present on your palms. Your body jolts at the sudden weight on your arms, and you blink up at him in curiosity. "Open it."

"Hotaru," you cutely drawl out the last syllable of his name with a pout, shaking your head at your husband's stubbornness. Your lover is a gift-giver; after all, he is a maker of many marvelous blades and trinkets. In the earlier months of your relationship, he would court you with handmade jewelry, even if you bashfully tried to tell him that you'd appreciate even just simple quality time.

Lightly blushing from the adorable glint in your eye, he repeats himself, "Open it." You do just that, and you find yourself faintly gasp in wonder at a welded flower with the most intricate design he's done yet. It's made entirely out of shiny steel, reflecting your mesmerized expression on the metallic petals as you softly caressed the pattern on the leaves.

"Flowers die too quickly," he purses his lips — a mannerism he does whenever he feels shy — and turns his body to the side. "This one should last forever."

At a loss for words, you opt to kiss him meaningfully on his his blushing cheek. "I love it."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA is still as stubborn as ever. He sometimes overworks his muscles until they are cramped and tense, so you — his beloved — offer to alleviate his pains with a soothing massage. He loves it.

You see Haganezuka roll his shoulders for the 5th time that morning. The crinkle of his brows seems to furrow deeper in silent aggravation.

Silently sighing, you embrace him from behind, letting your palms press firmly on his broad shoulders. This makes him groan in a mix of pain and relief, confirming that he is under discomfort.

"You never tell me when you're hurting," your breath is against his back, and you continue to massage his hard muscles.

"It's nothing that'll drag me away from smithing." His prideful quip makes you lightly slap his shoulder in annoyance, and it only makes him bark out a chuckle.

"Let me take care of you, okay?" You tip his head towards yours and bat your eyes in an attempt to persuade him. "Let's get you to bed."

Hotaru merely huffs as his lips form a suggestive smirk. "Fine, but you know I'd want to take care of you, too, my love."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA will never want to prolong your arguments and misunderstandings. He may be a prideful and headstrong man, but he acknowledges your side and your feelings, even if a little begrudgingly.

The moment your husband raises his voice at you, you turn away and head to a separate room, urging yourself to regain composure as you blink away your tears.

You're aware that he doesn't mean any harm with his gruff shouts — it's more of a habit he developed due to his social ineptitude — but you can get caught up in a flurry of petty disagreements and feel saddened by his misdirected rage.

Knock, knock, knock.

You hear knuckles softly knock on the thin wooden door of your shared bedroom. Muttering a soft 'come in,' you wipe the residual tears from your face while Hotaru stalks towards you and joins you on your Western-style bed.

"I'm sorry," he exhales through his nose as he hesitantly wraps an arm around you. To his relief, you completed the embrace and snuggled close to his chest. "You're right. I shouldn't have gotten so angry at the vendor, even if he did look at you for far too long—"

"Hotaru," you cut him off in a scolding tone. "Having you beside me is enough to ward off any danger."

You gaze deeply into each others' eyes. "Just stay by my side, and we'll be fine." You softly kiss his parted lips.

Hotaru only sighs one more time. "Okay."

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA is protective, and his concern for your safety is immeasurable and genuine. He'll cease his work and come join you if you wish to go somewhere during the evening. You'll never feel lonely with him as your lover.

"Where are you heading?"

You feel yourself faintly jump at the sound of your husband's voice. You gaze at him as he shifts from his usual spot in the forge, a half-finished katana laying behind him.

He's been engulfed in his craft for the past 3 hours, staying completely silent and diligently focused on smithing; you simply didn't expect him to do anything else for the next few hours.

"I just want to walk outside for a while," you begin to open the sliding door to exit, but your movements are ceased when you see Haganezuka fully stand up from his station and walk towards you.

"Darling, you still have a sword to finish—"

"It's nearly nighttime. Don't be stupid." You try to protest but he stays rooted by your side. "I'm not leaving you alone."

With a bemused huff, you find yourself smile at the bulky masked man walking next to you.

You definitely feel much safer with Hotaru.

HUSBAND! HAGANEZUKA never leaves your home or sleeps without telling you he loves you. He shows it through his actions, but he regards the simple words as devoted declarations he will never forget to remind you of.

Haganezuka rises from slumber before the sun even fully peaks through the valley. It's part of his dedication to his duties as a swordsmith — the only downside is how he barely gets to spend slow mornings with you.

After firmly wrapping his scarf over his head, he stares at your sleeping figure behind his Hyottoko mask, and he feels nothing but rampant swirls of adoration and love.

He sits down next to you, his weight causing you to stir in your sleep. Lifting his battered and calloused palm towards your cheek, he caresses you softly with a smile behind his mask.

"I love you, and I cannot imagine a world without you." He adjusts his mask and kisses your forehead. "I love you."

Before he can entirely leave the bed, he feels your gentle grip tug on his arm. He looks at your smiling, half-asleep face as you whisper,

"I love you, too, Hotaru." You beckon him for another kiss, and he dips down to do just that.

At that moment, Haganezuka was certain — there won't ever be a life where you wouldn't be reborn as each others' lovers. He swears in his heart that he shall always be yours, as long as you allow him to be.

a/n: I miss Haganezuka a lot. Have some domestic fluff of him! Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! ☆

[vivisviolets]

what do you need to hear right now ೀ⤷ except i have a headache

↪its been 3 fuking days i swear to goddddd 444

｡♡˚

⚬.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖-pick an image that you feel drawn to- if nothing stands out quickly then close your eyes- breathe- and ask spirit/the universe/god or your intuition/higher self to show you what a pile's content would best suit you, don't be shy!! read through more than one if that's what you are called to do!! i love youuuuu-˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

⋆｡˚ *pile 1 ⚬

⚬

⚬. Five of Swords (reversed), Nine of Swords (reversed), Six of Swords, Three of Wands, Judgement, Ace of Pentacles ⚬.

⚬. ☄️Number 5, 555, initials/letters H-M-A, sun ruled/dominant, Aries/Sag/Leo/Aquarius Placements, dark coloring or light coloring, face/body freckles, pale or sunkissed, thick hair, loud/blunt tone of talking, action-oriented ☄️⚬.

⚬. As I shuffled I picked up fire energy, I'm feeling you guys might come across a little intense personality-wise, like blunt or hardheaded in your opinions- you guys make other people feel like the shy or softer friend in comparison to you- I just got interrupted- I think you might have dealt with people in the past who stepped into your energy in an attempt to influence you or give you the impression they care but actually have the intentions to "change" you- I'm seeing someone smiling at you gently with this mask of innocence so you lower your guard down and give them control over you... This might have happened recently- and that's just it. They want to control by feeling that they are molding you into something they find more correct or tolerable. I don't mean to make you paranoid or even more un-trusting of others than you already are, but more to listen to and address inwardly why someone triggers you like that. I'm also hearing that in the past you might have felt you scared off some past friends or connections because they made some pretty lame excuses to avoid you- I'm just getting that you have a very masculine energy, very strong and coming straight from the chest. You guys have solid walls of inner self-concept and that can make people feel very small or meek compared to you, or trigger them to try and control or fix you, thinking you need some healing- when really it's them being triggered because of the self-healing they need to do on themselves... you guys might have mother issues (just finished watching Black Swan it's very much that suffocating toxicity coming from underdeveloped feminine energy) or have butted heads with female family members in your life (if not mothers especially aunts, maybe stepmother? Or grandmothers- female adults in your life)- and you guys are definitely not perfect in the way you handle certain things, regarding releasing control over certain situations peacefully. you guys can be impossibly stubborn, but that's because you stick to it with your whole chest, you just know- and so you bulldoze right ahead- I'm hearing a quote from Fiona Apple's '97 VMA speech, you "go with yourself". Other people's opinions be damned if you see something as your truth you follow it. From that, I'm hearing very Aquarius energy with how much you've mentally formed your own path (air energy with all the Sword cards), but again lots of fire energy I'm feeling. So you could have Aries placements with how youthfully blunt and truthful you naturally are- Sagittarius with how much natural luck and abundance you feel with opportunities being yours- but I'm getting very much lion energy, so Leo- "Lion-heart" "King of the Pride"- is really what your inner energy embodies! I heard some of you are more introverted or might not relate to this description fully because you may not think your external actions reflect that- but I NEED you to know what this is your inner emotional strength and land that you can, and should- tap into!! ☄️☄️☄️ because it's freaking natural babyyy ⚬.

⚬. You really need to chill with how un-trusting you are with other people's opinions. And I know that is so hard to hear because of the very valid reasons (◉ bitches) you've been dealt in life to have those trust issues- but I don't mean collapsing all your walls and becoming whatever anyone is saying, no. This is about you truly standing in all that inner power you have by allowing it to influence how to interact with others- there's knowledge to be gained everywhere, especially when you come from a place of such a strong self-concept. I'm really seeing you guys need to be allowing and being open to support- and I keep getting interrupted so I think you're really on guard with someone or the people you have around you. Again, look inwardly at that trigger and address it so you can take away what is valid in that trigger and also what is your own emotional walls- once you address it, you detach.~ and it's beautiful.~ but anyway, again-again I am also picking up that your suspensions are correct with whoever you feel is fake. So focus and be around people who you actually want to be around- I'm hearing a lot of you hang by yourself out of not finding anyone who interests you... Please do something different than what you normally do- you can find people who don't wish to change you or shrink next to you. You can and will find people who you can exchange knowledge and information with- with SUCH mutual respect like wow- you'll feel so fulfilled in a way you haven't even allowed yourself to think or consider-...might even be co-workers or just people you might have looked over (not trying to paint you as feeling above others or anything like that- you just have big high achiever energy). -Find and share with people who trigger you to become stronger, not weaker,- etc I'm really hearing that you guys being so in tune with your fire energy is really getting you to the places you want to be, it's really aligning yourself to those goals and your motives are really giving your actions a step up- but also you need to give energy to those ideas by sharing them- with the right, positive people (even neutral ppl would be rlly good) Because the support that you'll receive will not only be an energy boost to your goals, but also it will do some powerful work for you inwardly and align you to be more open to so many blessings and even more opportunities.-- I know you guys don't care hearing it because you don't need to, nor want to ask for it- but you are deserving as everyone is of hearing it- I love you ♡ and everything is turning out in your favor just by you continuing to follow your heart ❤️‍🔥. continue to open it up and remember to look and enjoy the next sunset you see!! ⚬.

⚬. "I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest" - "I paid all my respect to those who taught me how to make it And now I reap the benefits with no confrontation" ⚬.

∘˙○˚‧.ೃ࿔ pile 2 ⚬

⚬

⚬. The Hanged Man, Queen Of Swords, Strength, Three of Swords, Eight Of Wands, Six Of Pentancles ⚬.

⚬. 🐚 Number 3, 333, 3333, 1313, 303, 313, bubbles, Powerpuff Girls, girl/boy/kid next door, approachable/young/soft appearance, temu, Pisces/Cancer/Scorpio/Taurus/Leo placements, Neptune ruled/dominant 🐚 ⚬.

⚬. Bubbles!!!! I'm hearing bubbles- so you know, bubble baths/bubblegum/soap bubbles- oh, and of course you might have gone through a Powerpuff Girls phase and you chose Bubbles as the one most like you!! Obviously- right off the bat, you guys are adorable- you're seen as very adorable at least, you might have a very young face or you just give off very playful energy... So I'm mostly getting what other people see you as, so you definitely have a set image in people's minds-... I'm hearing though you might not like to hear that? A lot of this perception of you is largely online and in online groups, so you have curated a certain personality + an aesthetic for online and in said online groups (hearing for a lot of you it's Discord, but I'm also hearing Instagram group chats + Instagram engagement)... Maybe you've been regretting portraying that online persona? in those online spaces specifically- I will say this pac is all ages but I'm hearing that a lot of you might feel like you made some "bad choices" in how you portrayed yourself or who you interacted with that made you come across naive, and that can be a lot of things like- having weak emotional boundaries and being too emotionally open to people (like being the one who people trauma dumped to), getting wrapped up in some shady trading or in group business, or ignoring red flags of certain people in the effort to be the kind and sweet one of the group (you might of had a problem with a lot of creeps in your energy.. and dms ugh ew ◉ ◉ ◉)- I don't care what your age is, don't be hard on yourself!!! For this reading, you are literally my baby and I will not be harsh to you, idgaf if you came for harsh advice. I will only be saying things to guide you forward. because literally, I don't see you doing anything genuinely wrong. I think this situation you got in made you feel like you were some stupid baby duckling- it made you feel like your inner strength was weak and worthless- and you're putting a lot of self-blame on yourself- and that's just what that is, self-blame for how other people chose to engage with you.- I'll just tell you, you are so precious- no matter the reason you engaged in what you engaged in, you came in with pure intentions and creative eyes!! you felt like testing your waters regarding your own self-expression and wanted to give to others along with that ♡ and that's wonderful and ok to have wanted!! You guys are highly creative btw, and very interested in how you can express yourself- the first cards I drew were associated with water, so you may have prominent water placements of Pisces/Cancer/Scorpio- any of those are very you. You might have been deemed as the "cutesy artist" by others,- you might do something creative like drawing (I'm seeing some supaa cute digital art), cosplay or make up, maybe even music?- Very dreamy~ and also very giving of yourself emotionally- that's not a harmful thing my darling☆!! it's not "weak-minded" or deserving of being taken advantage of- nonono STOP THATTTT-... you really had something happen that threw you into a tailspin. You might be the overthinking type- you're taking everything to be a defining moment of your emotional intellect, or your very worth as a person... noo baby stop that- I literally need you to brew a cup of tea or a little treat, -I'm getting straight up teary-eyed with a lump in my throat rn- take a few deep breaths, drink a little cup of water, watch some youtube or anime- and just let yourself shed some tears if you want to.. freaking obviously feel however you want to feel because that's healthy to do but please stop placing all the blame on yourself like that's the full picture of what happened. ⚬.

⚬. ok so- you're gonna freaking reinvent yourself. Because I know you want to, but- 👏 you 👏 will 👏 not 👏 do 👏 it 👏 out 👏 of 👏 self👏 shame 👏.......👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 👏 - nah booboo, because there was nothing wrong with you to begin with, inwardly you are SO pure-hearted to yourself and those around you- AND THERE IS NOTHING that should be deemed wrong about that, holy shit. let me chill- this reading is peace and love🕊 only ofc... That's exactly it btw- you will be reinventing yourself out of peace and love- for yourself. out of peace and love for the version of yourself who felt vulnerable- taking what has made you feel vulnerable, and turning it into strength. And I'll just say, the actions that you'll be taking will be very much inward- and so you may see your "glow up"/transformation as too slow, but honey- that is exactly how what's needed in becoming SO secure in yourself. You might even go dark in a lot of your online spaces- if you haven't already which btw, process and remove any shame connected to having left certain spaces. how things fell apart was how it was meant to happen and has now gotten you to this point- which is amazing and awesome because you're gonna transform to be completely badass ★!!!! And I know you're thinking and worrying about how you won't be around to give to others to which i say- kiss your sensitive heart for being so precious~♡ because this is about you now. and everyone is going to feel that, no more placing your self worth on how happy you make others- its time for you to actually take enjoyment in yourself!!! and you are going to be looking so good- your inward growth is going to reflect your outward appearance, if you want to start switching up your style now's the time to go for it!!!!- but again, big focus on your inner self-love and growing your self-worth- and if you do choose to share your journey, make it in a smaller circle of people you can trust!! definitely send those new style pics to the inner circle if you feel free and fulfilled inwardly- you'll totally be praised like "omg (x) is really evolving they're looking sooo good..."- but anyway, just trust me ok ♡ because you're going to look back on all that you're feeling- all the hurt, confusion, negativity- and you're going to be stunned like- omg, if i hadn't felt and experienced and processed all of that, i wouldn't be feeling this good rn. So start that process!!!!! Get yourself a cute journal if you don't already have one with cute pens (record yourself to look back at later), start watching youtube videos on self-concept and emotional processing, saturate your mind with all that self-improvement- self-discovery- and building yourself up to be all the joy and love you bring to others (and hotter than evaaa😎), all for yourself ♡. I freaking love you~ now go get your sweet treat!!!!! (or two, that's totally ok~ just for today~) ⚬.

⚬. "And nothing hurts like you do- like the way you say I love you" - "See it on your face you won't ever change in your ways" - "When your torn apart you'll destroy me again"

⚬. *tw: themed song is dark for this pile like wuttt, but it just kept replaying in my mind during the reading so maybe it'd be your thing? idk lollll ⚬.

｡⭒⭒˚ʚɞ˚｡˚pile 3 ⚬

⚬

⚬. King of Pentacles, The Tower (reversed), Two of Pentacles, Queen Of Wands (reversed), Knight Of Swords, Seven Of Swords ⚬.

⚬.🕷 Student life, number 1-12-6, 1111, 1212, 666, lawyer or law practice type degree, thin or medium length hair, natural eye bags/under eye veins, INTP/INFJ, monochromatic clothes, cotton loungewear, Sagittarius/Virgo/Taurus/Capricorn/Libra placements, mars ruled/dominant 🕷⚬.

⚬. Okkk pile 3s, I must talk about your appearance and aura because... Wow!! I am enchanted- I see you are very statue-esque, so you may be on the tall side, especially for my women/afabs it's a very noticeable trait about you, of course you can be a normal height but there is just something about the way you are built that is very statue-like. And that appearance really shows who you are inside and your inner energy because you are soooo calming, mature, and also very spiritual in your self-concept- like if you were my friend and I had you in my inner circle I would trust you with so much, like you're held high in your own inner circle/peers. Maybe you don't feel that way because while you guys are very much givers of your time and nurturing nature- you know to put yourself first on your list of priorities, and that, not only is what makes you so good at your time management (like how do you it??? Please teach meee), it also gives you this air of independence- very natural independence too like, you're again a nurturing and giving being but you treat yourself with that same energy. I'm seeing a large tree in the middle of a expansive and dense forest, and all that magnificent health flowing through that forest is thanks to that tree right in the middle self-regulating and thus creating all that health that all of the life around it can benefit from… So yea self-care is a big thing for youuuu~ I'm seeing the routines you have are very simple so they just blend in so effortlessly into your daily life, and it is literally what is making you into that magnificent tree full of self-regulating energy. Again really simple, minimalist style of self-care- I see morning walks/jogging and journaling to clear and refresh your mind space, you may like to read, and prefer audiobooks or mindfulness-centered podcasts over other forms of media to help you relax and refocus, I'm seeing you like to not be strict with your diet but instead add to it things like fruits-veggies- and more purely sourced foods- your skin care is very simple with few-if any- products and your consistent with it as you are with everything else in your life. Even if you feel like you're "failing", you aren't. and deep down you know that you aren't- you've grown so much and that's really tapped you into not just self-responsibility/regulation but also to give yourself the grace to breathe. That's so beautiful!!!!!! ugh. And like- all of this natural self-focus you have, it's so spiritual- it's not grounded in your ego. You're just so in touch with your highest self. And lovely, they/she/he is so proud of you. I have to say again, if you were my friend, you would definitely be the person I'd go to- to take care of my puppy for 2 weeks in complete peace, and someone I'd have a drink with on a Saturday night all made up and done up talking about the deepest of topics. ⚬.

⚬. Very interesting personality and image I was getting and building up compared to the cards I pulled- I'm getting you might not have always been this balanced in your personal life and emotions, in fact you might have been very much the opposite… Because you grew up in an environment very unlike the one you are currently building for yourself- you may have had a toxic and vicious mother or other feminine figures that really put the fear of God in you and also made you fear yourself with the thought of one-day exuding and feeling such damaged feminine energy…. You might have also had a lot of friend drama- for those older reading this, this happened in your youth (middle-high school) and to those still in mentioned youth, you're freshly out of it (-good for you ily), said dramatic struggles was a reflection really of all the chaos of your home environment and all of the pent up intensity of it… I'm just hearing so many arguments and you feeling like you're being set on fire over and over again... So I'm getting with how much of a shift you made, you feel this coldness in your heart space- partly due to how fiery and emotional your past way of existing was, and also because while this shift that you made for yourself is excellent considering where you came from, it also happened very suddenly- and while you have implemented many new healthy habits… I'm seeing your past wounds still remain open. You can't bring in the new without clearing out the old... while you've done the work of shifting from the old habits to new- that's only half of the battlefield within you that has been fought and conquered, and now you need to face the other half instead of journeying away from it. Because even with all the peace you've found and created for yourself, what you have not faced, felt, and processed for the final round still remains… Maybe you fear your peace and balance being threatened by opening up your hurt, and that's totally understandable and valid. But if you wish to build a peaceful future, you must make peace with the past version of yourself. They/she/he who's still wrapped up in the chaos around them, mimicking that chaos back out of fear, feeling completely alone-that version of yourself needs your attention and healing more then ever. And I know you like to journal or record your thoughts, so allow those darker feelings and wounds into the space- keep the learned peace you have found and treat yourself with that gentleness past you wished they had been given-address them and ask them what memories stick with them most vividly and ask how it made them feel-how it made you feel at the time. Ask yourself what traits you feared most about the people who hurt you and analyze them- the emotions behind them and their cause and effect- and look within how you may be playing out those same traits stemming from the trauma of experiencing them.. I know I'm getting really heavy now, but that's just it- as you are growing upwards and becoming lighter, what no longer serves you grows heavier- and it needs your addressing, so you can become all that you want to be and exist as. You've already shown yourself that you are capable of finding and attracting peace, so now it's time to give yourself the peace of healing. Be the bigger girl/guy/person to yourself, allow yourself to feel it and address it in this safe space you've created. OK BESTIEEE I'm wishing you so much love and joy in your inner discovery journey- I loooove youuu ⚬.

⚬. "There's a fine line I've been walking" -This is where you fuckers pushed me, don't be surprised if shit gets ugly" - "-there's a fine line between broken and breaking- spent my whole trying to change what they say about me- sick of walking that fine line" - "I feel safest in the silence" - "-my whole life I've had something to prove, to you" ⚬.

⚬. *Bonus song*: Too Far Gone by Kesha ⚬.

⚬. oh my- okkk you got to the bottom- hiiiiii- byeeeee 👋

love, vi~♡

[nightmarist]

Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

[dmitriene]

THOUGHTS ABOUT BIKER SIMON AND HIS ATTRACTION TO YOU.

cw: fluff, comfort, smut, established relationship, brief mention of simons past, coul be slightly ooc simon, unprotected sex, p in v, public sex (on motorcycle), creampie, kisses, mentions of posessive behavior, simon having a hard time to confess his love to you, that's all. pairing: bf simon ghost riley x gf fem reader

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon's behavior comes down to how a black cat behaves next to a person he has taken a closer look at, he is as affectionate as a cat can be, whom miss fortune has been desperately avoiding all his life, but at the same time still going towards affection, in this case, to you, the one who gives it.

it is very easy to notice that he accepts care for him slowly, meekly, but in response he cannot squeeze out a word, he responds with actions, and to almost every “i love you, si„ there is not an expected confession, but a gesture that shows his affection wider than a few fleeting words.

if you needed to get somewhere quickly or leave somewhere, simon was right there, the motorcycle parked near the place where you were waiting, while both of his gloved hands held the second helmet, bought especially for you as soon as you started dating — with the aim of not only protecting you, but also carefully introducing you to part of his life, riding and fiddling with bikes.

you carefully extracted information from him about his life and hobbies, every time you drove together along the wide streets at high speed, your arms gently wrapped around his waist and clung to his leather jacket, he answered your every question willingly, with a gentle chesty growl, sometimes laughing hoarsely under his breath and teasing your desire to get to know him better

— “curious thing you are, darling„

and you always playfully pouted, resting your helmeted forehead against his back and lightly pinching him where your hands were placed on his waist, squeezing tightly so as not to slip away, and at the same time touchingly playfully attacking him through the fabric of his clothes with small pinches, to which he just laughed, listening to your mutterings

— “just wanna know you better, si.. you don't tell me anything„

and you’re right, he knows this, but his service in the task force and the nightmares he experienced forbade him to talk too much about himself or his feelings, the person hidden under the balaclava of the skull was considered forever dead and hiding in the shadows, and the absence of a photograph on his dossier in the army will be remembered there forever, but little by little there is less and less of that ghost of a man left, because you are definitely bringing back that side of him that he managed to bury.

simon gave flowers to someone for the first time in his life when your relationship just started, he didn’t even buy them for his own grave from which he fled, but he knew that he had to buy them for you, and the colorful fragrant petals became the beginning of your relationship, as bright as a lipstick mark on his bare cheek that day, and he would happily never wash it off, but you both know that you will put more and more of them, marking his whole face.

his affection is reflected in reverent touches, sometimes obsessive, every time you go out somewhere together, the heavy hand on the bottom of your back feels like a pleasant weight, with the care of which he later outlines your waist, holding you close to him not to control, but out of concern.

despite the fact that he is slightly unfamiliar with being so close to women, to signs of attention, you still notice that he is not afraid to take your hand in public, hug you, allow you to slightly lift his mask to kiss his lips or cheek, but it is even more tactile in the warmth of the walls of your home.

hugs from the back, arms exploring your body completely openly, small kisses on the back of your neck and face, he practically carries you around the house in his arms — all just for the urgent purpose of having you close, so that he can cuddle up to you and feel you close, while are you gently teasing him with the words — “aren't you clingy, si?„ but simon only grumbles and buries his nose in your chest while you carefully sorting the light strands of his hair, stroking.

but at a certain moment he breaks down, unexpressed feelings gather in an uncomfortable lump that worries simon, you are so affectionate for him, so beloved, but he cannot even answer a word of mutuality to you, he feels that he is not enough, feels helpless, and therefore solves everything with intimacy, squeezing your body in his arms carefully, gloves are hastily thrown off at the feet so that bare, rough, warm palms touch your soft skin, squeezing your hips and rising to your waist as you spread your legs for him, so lovely, leaning on his motorcycle.

your legs wrap around his waist, trembling slightly with each powerful thrust as your bodies press against his bike, balancing in a dangerous, uncomfortable position, elbows rubbing against the leather seat and the smooth surface of the bike, but it’s nothing compared to the heat in your body and the heaviness in bottom of your stomach.

simon's kisses are hot and demanding, his tongue sliding wetly into your mouth, muffling your moans and whimpers, the taste of his lips mixing with the overwhelming sensations rushing through your body as he greedily captures your mouth, his lips and tongue exploring every inch, making you to suffocate and at the same time desperately demand more.

he breaks the kiss, his completely darkened caramel eyes meet yours, silently ordering you to remain silent, before he nevertheless exhales into your wet and swollen lips, holding back his moans at the very edge

— “gonna be quiet for me, love, can't let anyone stop and go check from where all this pretty sounds go, yeah?„

and the need for discretion can't help but intensify the tension of the moment, igniting the thrill of the forbidden even more, causing you to hastily nod your head and moan into his open mouth as he again pushes his tongue to intertwine it with yours.

with each quick and desperate thrust, his cock plunges deeper into your sloppy cunt, allowing the wetness and heat to envelop his meaty cock all the way to his pelvic, as the sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mixing with the quiet whimpers escaping your lips despite your best efforts to remain silent and obey simon.

he can feel your orgasm approaching, telltale signs evident in your moan and the way your body trembles against his as simon's tongue explores your mouth with newfound eagerness, sucking on your tongue and eliciting muffled moans from your lips that he swallows.

with every deep thrust, his cock hits your spongy spot, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, causing the tight muscles of your cunt to clench around his girth, wet, squelching sounds filling the night air as simon's cock slips out slightly, but then pushes back into your tight, slick warmth, pushing you closer to the edge, making you practically scream, babbling

— “si, simon, hmnhrgh!! c-close, i'm close„

and then your hands slide with a slight creak from the surface of his motorcycle, and you instinctively reach out and grab his neck, your fingers curling, clinging to the back of simon's head, somewhere brushing the fabric of his leather jacket and the blond strands of his hair as you give in to the all consuming pleasure, falling completely silent.

every movement of his hips elicits a moan from your lips, your body eagerly responding to his primal dominance, all his feelings poured out into his erratic and rough thrusts as he strokes your waist carefully before pulling you close and straightening up, allowing you to be literally impaled on his girthy cock, muffling the loud sobs in his shoulder as he leans one hand into the seat of his motorcycle, white knuckled, and the other squeezes your thigh, impaling you again and again.

simon's hips snap with more force, driving himself deeper into your slobbering and throbbing cunt, he enjoys the way you clench around him in this new position, almost milking him, making his cock throb with every thrust into your slickness and squirm against your soft walls.

the feeling of his cock kissing your cervix sends a wave of pleasure through your body, coiling the tension in your belly tighter and tighter, and then it snaps, your walls clenching around him, milking him out as you reach your peak, practically biting down on his shoulder from the intensity of the feelings rolling in like a wave of heat.

your slick fluids and cum coat his cock, further lubricating the already slippery rhythm between you, the pulsing, gripping sensation driving him over the edge, his sighs and moans mixing with your incoherent mutterings, and you sing almost in unison about your feelings for each other

— “si, si, fuck!! aahn, l-love you, si, i love you„

— “i know, sweet girl, i know, mngh! f-fuck, love ya too, i love ya too„

his cock throbs inside your walls as he releases his hot cum, filling you up with his potent seed, painting you inside with his milky release and letting it drip down from your clenching cunt, coating his messy, wet from both your liquids cock and down his balls, somewhere there on the ground are still his gloves, on which white drops of your vulgar encounter now falling, the shared release creates a raw, intimate connection between you, the words he has kept for so long fall from his lips incessantly, and he whispers them in your ear, covering the side of your face with hurried, warm kisses.

he doesn’t care about the gloves, he doesn’t care about the roar of cars passing in the distance, which can turn here at any moment, the only thing that worries him is your warm body in his hands and the confessions that he can’t stop whispering to you, he kept them inside himself for so long, and finally gave them a path to the surface, and you will remember this for a long, long time, but for now, let simon take care of you and bring you two back home.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia!Konig and Loser!reader who is just a humble artist trying to find a buyer for his paintings.

You know the theory about most of contemporary art being just a curtain for black market and a way to legitimize drug money? Yea. No one was interested in your paintings. You didn't have a large name, you couldn't draw as much as you wanted because of your day job in retail, and you absolutely hated every minute of your life, being stuck in the apartment with artists of the same misery. All of you had trouble coming up with the money, so when there is an order on all of your paintings, you don't look like a gifted horse in the mouth. Someone wanted to buy your art. It was enough to make you want to marry this person. The guy who arranged the payment is sketchy. He wears a mask, blacl glasses, and a very noticeable anger in his voice as you don't quite understand what he wants to do from the first time. He says he will buy all of your paintings and put them in a gallery. He asks about your permission and if you want to do this for charity. He struggles to come up with a charity name, but you already sign up for whatever he is trying to give you, too happy to finally have money for the first time in your life. Then you wake up in a dirty basement, tied up to a chair. Funny. You thought about selling your organs in the past, but you never knew you will do it so soon - weirdly, you feel like all of your insides are intact. Weirdly, there is a huge man with a gun and scary mask, staring at you. Petting your head and touching your face like he is handling a pet, not a living and breathing starving artist, once in a generation talent. Man - Konig - said he wanted to buy all of your paintings to clean the money he got from the recent drug shipment. You were prooven to be a really reliable source, since you were clueless about the whole operation and would be easy to dispose after, but then his henchmen texted about how cute your dumb face looked. And Konig likes dumb loser girls who already wasted their lives. God, how much he adores them. He isn't opposed to charity and helping a starving artist thrive and do her silly painting about capitalism and gender issues while she eats from his hand. He isn't opposed to having you depend on him and cling to him like a tiny puppy - and he likes dangling riches in front of your face. Makes you do countless portraits of him and his men, always laughing if you say you don't really draw people. You'll have to, he says - if you want money. And you do, of course.