#anyway IC ask like I said for the torture anon

[frost-queen]

1985 | Reader x Steve Harrington

Requested by: anon, Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex--awesome--22​, @elllie-does-the-posts​, @floatlosers​, @merlieve​, @queen-of-books​, @glimmering-darling-dolly​, @denkisclown​, @wildieflower​, @meyocoko​, @bubblybrianna​, @justanothercoco​ @idkwhatmyusernam​,  @subjecta13-thefangirl

Summary: R & Steve have been childhood friends since forever. Steve starts going on dates & making you less his priority which breaks your loving heart for him. To push your feelings away from him, you start dating yourself. Something that would become an annoyance to Steve whenever you are able to meet up. Leave it to Robin and Dustin to put some sense in Steve.

The phone rang loud as you were about to make your way out. You spurted over to it, jumping over your dad’s shoes on your way. You took the horn off the hook, panting loud. – “Y/n speaking!” – you blurted out, leaning with your shoulder against the wall. – “It’s Steve.” – you heard on the other end. Immediately your heart began thumping louder. – “Steve!” – you responded with delight in your voice. – “I was just about to head out and meet you.” – you said, letting the cord twirl around your finger. You heard him sigh loud at the other end of the phone. It made you remove your shoulder from against the wall, standing more serious.

“What’s wrong?” – you asked, feeling like your plans were going to crash. – “I can’t meet with you today. I…I…I’ve got a date.” – he informed you. – “What?” – you called out, the words blurting out before you could stop them. Steve sighed again on the other end. – “I’ve got a date Y/n. I hope you understand why I can’t come.” – he explained. You imagined he was resting with his head against the wall. That it was hard for him to say this. That he was unable to get out from it. You just wanted it to be. It was torture to think otherwise. You loved him too much for that. You had for a while now. Classic childhood friends turn lovers… or at least one fool.

“I’m glad I called you before you left. I sure wouldn’t want you to wait hours for me.” – he responded as you were barely listening. Too broken up that he would ditch you for a girl. Again. This wasn’t the first time. Lately he had gotten something in his head that he needed a girlfriend. – “Y/n? you still there?” – Steve asked when he hadn’t heard your voice in a while. – “Yes Steve…”- you sighed out, lowering your gaze. – “I’m still here…” – you whispered moving your fingers to the speaking end of the horn. – “Good! I’ll promise to make it up with you!” – he said. Rage took over as you were stood up again. You forcefully hung the horn back, not wanting to hear more from him. 

It made you groan in frustration, pressing your palms against your forehead. Please just call back? You thought. Peeking from between your fingers, stared you at the phone on the wall. You wanted him to call you back, apologize for being such a dick. Telling you that he never meant for it to happen this way. That he would treat you better and forget about all those other women. Your gaze went down with disappointment when the phone staid silent. He wasn’t going to call back. Why did you even try.

You decided to go out anyway. To clear your head. To keep yourself from wallowing in self-pity. You decided to go to starcourt mall. You froze seeing Steve with a girl on his arm. A pretty blonde with thick curls. It made you grit your teeth, watching them head for the movie theatre. Immediately you felt like throwing up. Wishing you had never come down here. You looked around for an escape as you needed a kick to stop you from crashing. Your eyes widened at Scoops Ahoy, making your way firmly over to it. You pushed some kids aside that just had their ice cream. – “I need ice!” – You called out, slapping some money on the counter. Robin got startled, almost dropping the scoop into the ice. 

“Y/n?” – she said with furrowed brows. – “Did Steve bring you here?” – she asked getting on the tips of her toes to overlook you. You shook your head. – “Can you please give me some ice cream.” – you said sliding the money over to her. – “Sure…” – Robin answered, wondering what had occurred. – “How many scoops?” – she asked with a smile. – “A lot!” – you informed her. – “Okay…” – she hesitantly said taking a bowl. She started scooping ice as you gestured for more to her. Robin swallowed adding more ice. You took the bowl from her, sitting down at a table. Robin narrowed her eyes at you.

She decided you needed a chat. She came from behind the counter, sitting at your table. – “Spit!” – she blurted out. You stopped eating, looking closely at her. – “Not literally!” – she added before you would actually spit on her. – “I meant speak!” – she corrected gesturing at you. You swallowed the ice down before speaking. – “There is nothing to discuss.” – Robin quirked her eyebrow up. – “Oh there is. Steve took the day off to spend it with you. Only I don’t see dingus around.” – she leaned back, looking obviously around her. You exhaled deep, placing your spoon down. – “Well he ditched me.” – you told her. – “He didn’t!” – Robin blurted out surprised. 

You hummed licking some ice of the spoon. – “He did?” – Robin gaped in disbelieve at you. You hummed again scooping up some ice. You were about to put it in your mouth when Robin took your wrist, stopping you. – “Spill!” – she urged wanting to know more. You closed your mouth, sighing soft. – “What is there to tell, he ditched me for some chick!” �� you called out. Robin pushed your wrist down as it made you drop your spoon. Ice cream smudging the table. You glared at her for making such a mess. – “Sorry.” – Robin laughed nervously. – “It just took me by surprise.” – she continued. You shrugged your shoulders. 

A boy approached Robin, hesitant to tap her on her shoulder or not. - “Excuse me… can you serve us?” – he asked making Robin groan loud. She turned sharply around in her chair with a glare. – “Can’t you see we have serious things to discuss!” – she shouted at him. The boy jumped back, frightened. Robin shook her head with a deep sigh. – “Boys!” – she mumbled under her breath. – “You should get back to work. I’ll be fine.” – you nodded with your head in his direction.

Robin took a deep breath, getting up. – “Just know we are not done talking!” – she pressed her fingers onto the table, looking down at you. You nodded watching her go behind the counter. The boy approached her with doubts. Robin apologized, telling him she’d give him a discount if he didn’t complain to her boss about her behavior. It was just that she always had a tense reaction to things. Her senses going in overdrive as her mouth bladdered before her mind could put a stop to it. After finishing the ice cream, you left. Robin was busy anyway and you’d talk to her later over the phone or so. 

Near the fountain walked you past a group of boys. One of them whistling in your direction. It made you look over, wanting to know who it was. He blew a kiss at you. You had to keep yourself from laughing at how smug that looked. You kept walking, laughing loud. Then you suddenly came to a stop. An idea popping in your head. He was so obviously interested in you. Why should you wait around for Steve who would only ditch you for the next girl in the row? Perhaps you needed to start dating just like him. Give him a taste of his own cookie.

You smiled silly, finding it a bit exciting. Turning on your heel, headed you back to the fountains. You joined the group of boys, introducing yourself. Perhaps it could be a great distraction from your feelings for Steve. The guy threw his arm around you as he leaded you away from his friends. He would treat you for a drink. He wasn’t the best date, but he did take your mind off Steve. Maybe this was your cure; dating other men just like Steve was playing around. After the date headed you home, not even once hearing from Steve. Steve was starting to make you less his priority in life as you slowly didn’t care anymore. You kept dating finding it exciting in a way to numb your feelings for Steve.

Steve was sitting on the hood of his car, parked on your driveway. He exhaled long, letting his head fall back. He had been waiting for you over an hour now. He had knocked four times on your door with no answer. His head shot back hearing a car. He furrowed his brows as a car parked poorly on the street. The front wheels up on your driveway. He turned his body more watching you get out. You waved the person in the car goodbye, watching him drive off. Steve hopped off the hood of his car when you went up the driveway. – “Y/n!” – Steve called out as you were making your way towards the front door. – “Y/n!” – Steve repeated coming after you since you completely ignored him.

“Hey! Y/n!” – he called out picking up his pace. You unlocked the door with your keys, ready to open it. Steve grabbed the doorknob from behind you, making sure you couldn’t enter and slam the door in his face. You looked down at the arm beside your body, slowly turning. – “Oh, hi Steve.” – you said fully turned to him. Steve inhaled sharply. – “I’ve been waiting over an hour for you!” – he called out angry. – “Did we agree on meeting?” – you questioned. – “Yes!” – Steve blurted out furious. – “Oh sorry.” – you answered with a shrug. Steve’s cheeks bloated trying to stop himself from shouting at you. – “Who was he anyway?” – he wanted to know. – “Trevor, my date.” – you told him.

Steve swallowed with jealousy. His face sour when you mentioned him. – “He treated me to diner.” – you informed him. Steve crossed his arms. – “He’s really nice. I think you’ll like him.” – you patted Steve on his chest. Steve puffed annoyed with a shake of his head. – “He works at the bowling lane!” – you turned around, opening the door. You let go of the door as it swung a bit back. Steve pressed his hand firm onto it, pushing it further open. He barged into your house, coming after you. – “Oh does he now!” – Steve called out. You hummed loud, taking off your shoes. Steve followed you into the living area as you sat down, stretching. – “Can we maybe meet up another time. I’m exhausted.” – you said. 

Steve scoffed unbelievable. – “Are you serious? This is like the fourth time you stood me up.” – He told you angered. – “Well I didn’t intended.” – you responded taking the remote. – “I just forgot. You know what that’s like Steve.” – you added with a wink. Steve felt himself boil, turning around as he pressed his palms firmly against his eyes. He groaned loud at the frustration brooding inside of him. – “I’ll be sure to not plan another date when you want to meet up.” – you decided to throw out in the open. Steve inhaled sharp suppressing his jealously. He walked back to the door, shutting it behind him. You seated yourself better, staring in front of you.

Lately you weren’t even sure if you were doing the right thing. These dates weren’t enough anymore. Your love for Steve kept finding a way back to you. Now seeing him clearly upset ached. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but he started it all. If he just stopped dating girls so frequently you would’ve never followed his lead. If he would just take a moment and look at you. Make you a priority to his life once more like it was for many years. 

Just Steve and you against the world. Lately you felt like shoved to the side. Forgotten in a box for the basement, to never be opened again. You released a loud sob mixed with a groan. Letting your head fall into the palms of your hands. How is that you got yourself into this trouble. If only you hadn’t fallen in love with him or just never went onto that date with the first guy. Now Steve had left, and you didn’t know when he would return or that he would even return.

**

Robin tapped the little bell hard as it ringed loud. It startled Steve, waking him up from his lousy daydream. – “Dingus! Wake up!” – Robin called out. Steve sighed loud, straightening his posture. – “What’s up with you?” – Robin questioned seeing the clear unbothered expression on his face. Steve shrugged his shoulders, scooping up some ice to drop it back into the box. – “Gross!” – Robin pointed out, taking the scoop from him. Steve sighed annoyed, turning around, leaning against the counter. – “Clearly something is bothering you.” – Robin said seeing Dustin approach from afar. 

“Maybe he can cheer you up!” – she pointed with the dirty scoop behind him. Steve looked over his shoulder with little care. He removed his scoops ahoy hat from his head, letting his arms rest on the counter. His head resting bored down on them. – “What’s wrong with him?” – Dustin questioned, pointing at Steve. Robin pulled her shoulder up. – “Can you cheer him up? His behavior is effecting the customers.” – Robin pointed out, gesturing at the empty scoops ahoy. Dustin held his thumb up to her. – “Okay big boy, what’s up?” – Dustin asked, tapping the counter excitedly. – “Nothing.” – Steve puffed out.

Robin quirked her eyebrow up at Dustin. – “Should I call Y/n?” – Dustin said lowly to Robin. – “I have a feeling we should.” – Robin responded. – “No!” – Steve called out, getting up. – “Don’t… don’t call her!” – he insisted as his shoulders dropped. – “Why not?” – Dustin questioned. Robin was very curious to his answer. – “Because…” – Steve started letting the hat twirl with his hand in it. – “Because she is probably with some dude anyway!” – he confessed rudely. Robin raised her eyebrow, seeing how bothered he was with it. Robin slid closer to him, letting her hands rest under her chin on the counter. 

“Tell me more.” – she said with a twinkle in her eyes. Dustin copied her behavior, grinning goofily. Steve stared at both confused. – “What is there to say? Y/n is busy dating Trevor.” – he called out. – “He works at the bowling lane!” – Steve sighed rubbing just above his eyebrow. – “Or maybe it is John… or Alex… I don’t know. I can’t keep up with her dates.” – Steve squeezed his scoops ahoy hat in his hand out of frustration. Robin said uh-hu loud with a cheeky smile. – “Didn’t you do the same but with girls?” – Dustin said as Robin pointed at him. – “Oeh good question!” – she said, clapping her hands together.

Steve groaned in frustration. – “That was different!” – he said. – “How so?” – Robin asked poking him in the rib. He flinched with a sour face. – “Because they didn’t mean a thing!” – he blurted out. – “But… but I truly can’t believe Y/n would stand me up like that. We’ve been friends since what, three or something.” – he continued. Robin straightened herself, smacking him on the back of his head. – “Au!” – he called out, rubbing the area. – “Are you actually that stupid!” – Dustin called out in frustration. – “What?” – Steve responded oblivious. – “You are in love with her, dingus!” – Robin answered jumping up and down. 

“What? No?” – Steve said not believing it. – “Do you want me to whack you again?” – Robin threatened. Steve ducked down, moving his arm protective up as he shook his head. – “It’s pretty easy!” – Dustin spoke. – “You like Y/n.” – he moved one hand away. – “Y/n likes you.” – he moved his other hand aside. He then clasped his hands together, startling Steve. – “You both are idiots for avoiding what is clearly in front of you!” – Dustin exclaimed. Steve thought for a moment, suddenly widening his eyes. – “Shit, I love Y/n!” – he called out, running his hand desperately through his hair. – “Ding, ding, ding!” – Robin said since he got the right answer.

“What are you waiting for man? Go get her!” – Dustin shouted motioning for him to get a move on. – “Right!” – Steve blurted out, jumping over the counter. – “I’m coming Y/n!” – he yelled running out of Scoops ahoy like a fool. Robin snorted loud when he nearly tripped on his way. Dustin moved his hand up as Robin high fived him. Steve jumped into his car, starting the engine. Damn it how could he have been so stupid. All those girls he dated were a bore to him. How was it that he was so stupid to not see what he needed was right in front of him. He always was the happiest when he was with you. 

You were always there for him. Even after his blunder of a relationship with Nancy. God, he hated himself for neglecting you. He was so busy finding his happiness that he couldn’t see that he already had it. He just hoped he wasn’t too late. He drove violently onto your driveway, parking the car brutally. He jumped out of the car, running up to your door. – “Y/n!” – he shouted with a high pitch shriek at the end. You jumped out of your skin, running to the door. You opened it in a panic, rushed from the thumping on your door.

“Steve?” – you called out confused. He threw his arms around you in a haste. – “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” – you questioned, tapping his back gently. – “I’m an idiot Y/n!” – he said keeping you at arm’s length. – “You are?” – you asked confused. – “I am!” – he explained with a goofy smile. – “Forget about Trevor, John, or Alex. Heck forget about all those men!” – Steve said in a haste. 

You furrowed your brows trying to understand what he was trying to say. – “Forget about them all because I am here!” – He shook his head, hating the way he confessed it. – “I mean I…” – he breathed out, suddenly lost at words. You blinked confused, staring a bit at him. – “I love you Y/n!” – he blurted out. – “And… and I hope you still love me too.” – You gasped loud; eyes wide open. – “How do you know that!” – You asked in shock. Steve exhaled with a smile, letting his fingers brush against your jaw before laying his hand in your neck.

“I love you Y/n. I’m sorry for only understanding that now.” – he said leaning in. You gulped when his lips swept you off your feet. You slowly closed your eyes, kissing him back. You stopped kissing him, keeping him on a distance. – “Was it Robin? It was Robin, wasn’t it?” – you asked curious. Steve shook his head with playful smile, coming closer once more. He kissed you once more, finally feeling that spark he had been searching for.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[abyssonance]

Anon asked: 😶 have you ever tortured somebody before? If you haven’t,let me give u some tips. -[redacted]

Uncomfy Questions [Accepting]

“Cease your prattling.” They bellowed ominously. “I have never gone out of my way to cause such torment, but let me take an idea proposed by certain human writers of fiction and explain it:

“Imagine you are a tiny insect, crawling across a circuit board. A human invention, but you do not know what it is, what it means, nor if it is even important other than just metallic colours. Then suddenly, you learn what it does: it communicates millions of ideas a second across an invisible space to millions of more people in a second. Overwhelming is this knew knowledge and awareness. Then, as quickly as it came, this knowledge is lost to you. You forget it all but you remember that you knew.

“Such a state drives you to insanity. You had all the knowledge, forbidden and grand... you must have it again, it leaves you completely empty and broken to not have it... but you never will. No matter what you try, no matter how deep your call into the abyss, how desperate you claw at whatever entity will listen...

“I am entropy, yet I exist in form. I am nothing, but something, a paradox that should not be, yet here I am. I am barely comprehensible to any other creature than my own Kindred. This form is the only appeasement of the mind and reality so that your psyche may not be shattered in an instant.

“Not knowing your purpose and being blamed for being the embodiment of nothingness is akin to what I have described. I have existed through it, and was remade for it. I existed while you invented the ways you have such described in harsh detail.

“Cite not the ways of torturous existence, I witnessed their birth.”

[ohimsummer]

“eren + reader who feels like they’re unlovable”

content: eren x insecure! reader, not proofread

a/n: tumblr ate the ask i’m sorry anon vmfkvmd, hope this is what you were looking for though! I tried not to make it too depressing :,DD

The knocks on your door are persistent and getting louder with every passing minute. A frantic voice is calling out your name, but your blankets have you wrapped up in a trap and you can’t bring yourself to try and escape. It’s warm, cozy, and familiar. Why would you ever want to leave?  

You feel bad for making your boyfriend worry about you like this, but there’s a jumbled pile of thoughts in the back of your mind that wonder why he even cares so much. It’s not like you’re that special, or at least you didn’t feel that way. It’d only been a few days since he’d last seen you, anyway, so it’s not like he could’ve been itching that much for your company.  

The knocks on your door stop and you’re about to feel relieved when the voice calls out to you again.

“Y/N?,” Eren says. "Can you at least let me know you’re alive in there?”

You hate torturing him like this, but you can’t bring yourself to speak. Despite how heavy and empty you feel, you force yourself out of bed to go answer the door. Eren is shocked that you actually answered the door, he‘d expected a grunt or something small from you.

There are plastic bangs draped around his arms which look so tiny compared to his tall frame. He gives you a smile, but you just stare at him, a deadpan look smeared on your face.  

He walks into the dark room, setting the bags down beside the bed before turning back towards you, arms wide and ready to engulf you in a hug. You feel confused. You’re skeptical on whether he’s actually happy to see you despite his endearing actions. To you, your avoidance of him for the past few days felt like grounds for a punishment. His love didn’t feel deserved.

“I got you some ice cream, it’s your favorite!” Eren’s words are gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter if he speaks too loudly. He reaches into the bag, pulls out a small tub of ice cream, and pushes it into your hands. “Let me get some spoons from the kitchen, babe.”

Eren is about to rush past you and out of the bedroom when you grab his wrist. He stops instantly, face painted with concern as he wonders if he somehow said something wrong.  

“You don’t have to, Eren. Just sit in here with me, please?” Your eyes are pleading and of course, Eren won’t say no to you.

He allows you to pull him down beside you onto the soft mattress. You lean your head onto his broad shoulders and just take in his scent. He smells faintly of cologne; you can visualize the exact brand and design of the bottle because he wears it all the time since you bought it for him. You feel your shoulders lower and relax. You didn’t even realize they were tensed. One of Eren’s hands travels through the strands of your hair while the other gently squeezes your thigh. He plants a quick kiss on your skin but leaves his lips to linger there on your forehead. You realize now why he cares so much, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Your heart swells and you feel a wetness form in your eyes as he utters the words, “I love you, Y/N. I always will.”

[evieonic]

I love your blog!! I was wondering if you would write about platonic Yuuji getting tickled by Gojo & Megumi? Tysm!

Hi Anon! I'm so sorry it took so long to get this posted, I had a tough time coming up with ideas and then I got sick but it's all good now! Thank you for your patience. This is what I came up with, I hope you enjoy it. This fic can also read on ao3 if you'd prefer to read it there.

Remedy For A Broken Heart (Published:  08/15/2021)

Pairing: Platonic only, characters: Gojo, Yuuji, and Megumi

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Trigger Warning: None, though technically contains a break-up and non-consensual tickling though it's all in good fun.

Length: 1595 Words, 1 Chapter. Completed.

Summary: Yuuji's heart got broken by some chick at school and absolutely refuses to go to class. Megumi takes it into his own hands to get the strawberry blond happy again by calling Gojo-sensei who has some... talented tickling fingers.

------------------------------------ Megumi sighed as he stared down at the miserable sight below him. Yuuji was curled up in his bed with the covers over himself, completely ignoring the world. There were tissues littering the bed with tubs of empty ice cream on the nightstand. There was only one explanation for a sight like this.

Yuuji… got his heart broken.

“Yuuji,” Megumi sighed once more, pulling off the covers, “I know your heart is broken and the world seems to be ending, but you still have classes.”

“No!” Yuuji grumbled, pulling the covers back over his head with a yank, “tell them I'm sick or something.”

Megumi rolled his eyes, “Yuuji, it’ll be a good distraction.”

Yuuji only curled further into his bed, completely ignoring the boy. Megumi had never seen Yuuji this depressed before. It honestly concerned him. He placed his chin in his hand, his other on his hip as he took a moment to come up with an idea. What could possibly cheer up Yuuji? Talking about girls wouldn’t help, it’d only remind him of his loss. Maybe ice cream? No, the poor boy has had enough. A movie? No, he wouldn’t focus.

His mind raced with ideas until bingo, he had it. He smirked slightly as he folded his arms over his chest, “alright. Suit yourself.” He took his phone out of his pocket, dialing his emergency cheer up number. He knew it was going to work because Yuuji had done the exact same thing when Megumi was feeling down.

He grinned slightly as the familiar voice answered, “hello?”

“Gojo-sensei, I apologize for bothering you so close to class…,” Megumi began. He always felt a little bad for calling Gojo for anything that seemed minor.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, I'm here to help! What can I do for you?”

“Well, Yuuji got his heart broken so he refuses to go to class, so I was wondering if you could-” Megumi hadn’t gotten most of the words out when Gojo suddenly hung up. “H-Hello? Gojo?”

Megumi lowered his phone, looking at the ID in confusion, about to redial Gojo’s number when suddenly, their dorm room door was blown off of it’s hitches, hitting the wall with a hard impact.

“AYO I HEARD SOMEONE WAS SAD IN HERE,” A voice yelled and Megumi immediately realized what happened. Gojo had kicked down the door.

“Gojo-'' Megumi started, anger evident in his voice, but he was interrupted by Yuuji suddenly perking up, frightened by the sound of their door crumbling down.

He blinked. He glanced at Megumi, then glanced at Gojo.

And then he realized exactly what they had planned.

Megumi couldn’t help but smirk as he saw Yuuji suddenly remember that the last time Megumi was sad, he had called Gojo over and the two of them practically tickled him to death, making his sadness go away. Megumi had sworn revenge ever since that day. Today was a perfect opportunity.

“W-Wait,” Yuuji began, sinking back underneath his covers as Gojo’s eyes narrowed at him, “w-wait, there’s been a mistake, I’m-”

Gojo was making a beeline to him now.

“W-WAIT, I’m fine! Gojo, I’m- eheh !” Giggles were already catching in his throat, bringing a smile to Megumi’s face.

“Nurse, hold him down!” Gojo ordered. Megumi immediately obeyed, though cringed at being called a nurse. He held Yuuji down by his arms while Gojo yanked his covers away.

“N-N-NO! I’m fine, Gojo, I’m good!” Yuuji stammered, panicking before turning his gaze to Megumi, giving him his finest death glare, “why did you call him, you traitor?!”

“Revenge,” Megumi said.

“How?! You needed that and you know you did!”

“Well, you also need this so…,” Megumi shrugged, “point denied.”

Gojo hummed in thought as he straddled Yuuji, looking at him and thought, “hmm, I see, I see. I can see the sadness is located here,” he poked at Yuuji’s chest, right where his heart was, “we will need to prepare for an emergency tickle session.”

“Yes doctor,” Megumi nodded, falling into the scene Gojo was creating.

Yuuji only looked at them both as if they were idiots, “the fuck is wrong with you two? Can you please let me just be sad in peace, it’s okay to be sad every now and then- it’s healthy!”

“See, now that’s a symptom of extreme sadness, which means you’re too far gone,” Gojo said seriously, shaking his head. “He’s worse than I thought. Are you ready, nurse?”

“Yes doctor.”

“Can you two at least not be weird about this?!” Yuuji complained once more but Gojo ignored him, rubbing his hands together as if he was about to use a defibrillator on him.

“Clear!” He shouted before placing his hands on Yuuji’s sides and wiggling his fingers about.

The effect was immediate. Yuuji squirmed and thrashed about, forcing Megumi to hold on tighter, keeping him pressed on the bed as laughter filtered out of his mouth. “GAHAHA-! Nohohohohoho!! Staaahap! Staahp!” He giggled, trying with all his might to buck Gojo off, but the teacher was unfortunately too heavy.

“Seems like the medicine is working, nurse,” Gojo said, a hint of a smile on his lips as he continued his attack, “perhaps we should administer it to all locations of depression.”

“I agree, doctor,” Megumi smiled, nodding as he watched Yuuji smile with glee, despite the fact that his happiness was somewhat forced right now.

“I think I can see this being a huge problem area,” Gojo said, digging his fingers into Yuuji’s ribs, making him cackle with laughter, “oh yes, this whole area is pretty bad.”

“P-Pleehehehese,” Yuuji wheezed out, gasping for air as Gojo continued his treatment, “I cahahan’t breeeeathe!”

“Oof,” was all Gojo responded with.

“Gojo!!!”

“Well are you not sad yet?” He asked, halting his fingers for just a moment.

“I’m more pissed off than anything,” Yuuji grumbled, panting and glaring at his teacher.

His teacher only raised an eyebrow before thrusting his hands underneath Yuuji’s shirt, his fingers scribbling against Yuuji’s sensitive skin, making him howl with laughter. “NOOOAHAHA! Y-YOU BASTARD!”

“Nurse, he’s becoming critical!” Gojo grinned. “I need a hand stat!”

Megumi smirked, immediately catching on to what Gojo meant, “yes doctor!”

Yuuji caught the look in his eyes, squirming more vigorously in attempt to get away, “oh no, no you don’t, no you fucking don’t, don’t you da- PFFFAAHAHAHA!!” he erupted with laughter, the sound turning into a wheeze as Megumi, wiggling his fingers around his armpits, stimulating the sensitive nerves there. He had his knees pressed down on Yuuji’s hands, preventing him from moving his arms and keeping him vulnerable.

“T-T-T-This is t-t-torture, ahaha!” Yuuji wheezed, the words barely audible.

“It’s called medicine, actually,” Gojo said, “thought I guess depending on the medicine, it is torture.”

“Y-Y-You’re - ahahaha! - b-both - heh - s-stupid,” Yuuji giggled, his words distorted. Gojo and Megumi both only smiled down at him.

“Sorry, what was that?” Gojo smirked

“Aahahasshole!”

“Are you going to stop being sad?” Megumi asked, digging his fingers into Yuuji’s sensitive nerves, gently moving them to his neck, scribbling underneath his chin. “Are you going to get out of bed, make yourself happy and go to class?”

“Y-You cahahahan’t just autaha-automaahatically make sohohomeone hahappy!” He whimpered, trying with all his might to yeet them off but having no luck. He simply just had to lay there, as their fingers sparked up giggle after giggle. It was so unfair.

But finally, after a while, Megumi and Gojo both slowed to a stop. Yuuji made a breathless giggle, his eyes wet with happy tears as he blinked a few times before glancing at them both, confused, “Y-You… finally stopped?”

“Depends. Did we cure the sadness?” Gojo asked with a smile.

“If I say yes, will you guys sto- AHAHA!! WHA- HEY?!” Yuuji glared at the sudden tickling done by Megumi. He only smirked, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Just making sure you know we can keep going with this treatment all night long,” Megumi said.

“Yes,” Gojo nods, “I am the top rated doctor in the nation, I don’t let my patients leave when I know they need more treatment.”

“I hate you both.”

Megumi chuckled and rolled his eyes, “come on, Yuuji. I know it’s rough, but you can’t stay like this.”

Yuuji sighed, finally letting himself lose the sad attitude. He was sad that he got dumped but to be honest, he didn’t really like the girl anyway. It just hurt his ego more than anything. He slowly nodded, “okay, I’m fine.”

“Is that the honest truth?” Megumi asked, moving his fingers slowly in a silent threat.

“Yes!” Yuuji said, “It is, I swear.”

Gojo and Megumi exchanged a look of doubt before finally nodding. “Okay,” Gojo shrugged, “we believe you. Now we can go get you ice cream.”

“Eh? Ice cream?” Yuuji said, instantly perking up from that.

“You know how doctors give their patients lollipops at the end of their treatment? I don’t have any lollipops so… ice cream,” Gojo said, getting up off of the poor young boy, Megumi quickly following him.

“You know if you just gave me ice cream first, I would’ve been easily healed,” Yuuji said, rolling his eyes as he sat up.

“You’ve been eating ice cream all day with that same sulky look in your eyes, ice cream wouldn’t have the same effect as it will now,” Megumi said, smiling softly as Gojo nodded, completely agreeing with him while Yuuji glared.

“Again, I hate you both,” he pouted.

“Yes we know. Now, where do you want your ice cream?”

[mimi-cee-hq]

Every Season - Kyoutani x Reader

Pairing: Kyoutani x f!Reader

Summary: Kyoutani finally introduces Y/n to the team. When they all comment on how he got such a sweet and innocent girlfriend, Kyoutani lets out a snort. A cute and funny getting together story of different kisses throughout the years and seasons.

Genre and Tropes: Cute childhood friends fluff!

Words: 2,218

This is for the July HQWN monthly prompt event. I'm using the International Kissing Day prompt.

Author's Notes: This is a match-up story for an anon. Thanks to @kingkags for beta reading the first half of the story. :) 

To anon, I don't think I captured your personality very well because I only write PG. loll. I tried to keep the main aspects of your description, so I hope you still like it. >.<

*****

“I still can’t believe that’s Mad Dog’s girlfriend.”

There were crackles from the meat cooking at the neighbouring table. Y/n lit the barbeque for their own table as she welcomed them. The entire team was curious to see what sort of girl Kyoutani was dating so Yahaba and Watari decided on her family's restaurant when they organized a graduation party for the third years.

Y/n smiled at the boys, “What would you like to order?”

The large bow in her hair bounced as she nodded, taking their orders. After she went through the list she wrote, confirming their preferences, she pushed up her round glasses with her knuckles before she left to process the order.

After Oikawa finished gawking at her, he turned to Kyoutani and asked, “How the heck did you end up with such a sweet and innocent girlfriend?”

Kyoutani, just when he was about to sip his drink, let out a snort instead. They were lucky. If the drink was in his mouth, it would have ended up in their faces.

*****

A tiny young girl stood in front of Kyoutani in the living room of her house. “Kyoutani, this is Y/n,” her mother introduced her to the five-year-old boy.

Y/n gave him a sweet smile and waved at him. “It’s nice to meet you, Kyo-chan.” The black bow in her hair slightly shifted as she gave him a small polite nod.

Kyoutani jumped back a couple of feet, clutching his mom’s shirt once he was at her side. He gave a low growl as he glared at her. He had a feeling he should be weary of her.

“Ooo,” Y/n cooed. “Can we keep him?” she asked her mom, giggling.

“What?”

“He’s so cute!” Y/n told her. “He’s like a puppy!”

“He’s not a dog!” Y/n’s mom scolded her.

Kyoutani continued to scowl at Y/n. When his mom left his side, he tensed up, and retreated to the far side of a couch. He gritted his teeth and sat with all fours on a cushion, not allowing his eyes to leave Y/n’s even as their mothers walked out of the room.

Y/n ran to her well-worn toy box and stuck her head in. After she searched through it, she told him, “Look, Kyo-chan!” She held up a bright red leaf. “I have one for you too!” she said, revealing a second one. She continued to share about how she picked them up a few days ago when she marvelled at the trees turning into various shades of reds, yellows, and oranges.

Kyoutani, with his hands still tense, inched closer towards Y/n. Once beside her, he took the leaf from her hand. Staring at the intricate veins on the red leaf, he noted that it was whole and not bent or damaged. His eyes grew as he stared in awe, his scowl finally disappearing and his eyebrows relaxed.

“It’s pretty—,” he started to say. But just as he tilted his head up to look at Y/n, her face was right in front of his. And then she stole a kiss from him.

She giggled.

Kyoutani jumped back, cheeks red and ears flaring. Seeing his reaction, Y/n fell on the floor laughing.

Clenching his teeth, he knew he should have trusted his instincts and shouldn’t have let his guard down. He wouldn’t be tricked again.

“Mommy! Kyo-chan bit me!”

*****

“It’s your turn,” Kyoutani told Y/n with a smirk. He was one pair of cards ahead of her in their game of Go Fish, but she didn't give up yet.

Y/n’s mom was watching the two kids play through the opened sliding door to their backyard. A cool spring breeze would sometimes enter the kitchen as she prepared some kimchi for a future meal. She could see the two sitting on an outdoor mat as they continued taking turns removing a card from the other’s hand.

Now at eight-years-old, Kyoutani would often be at Y/n’s house whenever his parents needed a babysitter. He still didn’t exactly like Y/n, but he didn’t have much of a choice.

At first he wouldn’t even talk to her. He would sit at the couch, cautious of Y/n’s every move, waiting for his parents to come back. But Y/n’s parents were kind to him. They noticed Kyoutani’s discomfort so sometimes her dad would take him out of the house. Some days it would be for ice cream. Other days they’d grab a burger. He even brought Kyoutani to a volleyball game once. But over this past year, Kyoutani finally got along with Y/n - or at least enough to get through a couple of games.

Kyoutani eyed at the two cards in Y/n’s hand, wearing his perpetual scowl. He licked his lips just before he grabbed a card from Y/n. He placed his pair of cards on the mat with a smirk. He won.

“You cheated!” Y/n accused him. Kyoutani rolled his eyes, accustomed with Y/n’s inability to lose. “I demand a rematch!”

“Hmph,” Kyoutani crossed his arms, scowling as he looked away.

Y/n’s mom sighed and shook her head. “When are they finally going to get along,” she commented to herself.

“We do get along!” Y/n told her mom. As if to prove her point, she quickly leaned towards Kyoutani to give him a peck on his cheek.

He flinched and shuffled away from Y/n, grimacing at her gesture. She laughed at his reaction as usual.

“What did I tell you about kissing Kyoutani!” her mom scolded her. “You’re torturing the poor boy!”

“But I only kissed his cheek this time!”

As Y/n continued to argue with her mom, Kyoutani attempted to scratch the cooties off his cheek, unaware of the red hue on his face.

*****

Kyoutani got out of bed after hearing pebbles tapping his bedroom window. He pushed the curtains open to see Y/n below, standing in front of his house. After nearly seven years of knowing her, she still does things that he could never predict. He groaned as he watched her breathe into her palms and rub them together. There was no snow on the ground, yet it was cold enough to see her breath. Y/n wore earmuffs which matched the signature black bow in her hair.

When he let her in, she threw off her scarf and earmuffs, letting out a big yawn before curling up on his living room couch.

“Why are you here when you're so tired?” Kyoutani asked her.

“I stayed up last night to finish up that history project with Kimiko,” she replied, not quite answering his question. “I shouldn’t have paired up with her,” she laughed. “She thought I was smart because I worked hard. But I thought she was smart because she hung out with the smart kids.”

Kyoutani smirked, taking a seat at her feet as she lay on the couch.

“Turns out we both share a brain cell,” she giggled. “Kimiko is fun but she’s too much of a clown. We get so distracted when we’re together. I don't know if we'll get an A." She groaned. "Remind me to never do a project with her again.”

“Never do a project with her again,” Kyoutani plainly told her with a smirk.

Y/n rolled her eyes and then jabbed his side with her toes. Kyoutani jerked away from her feet and shoved them away.

Y/n sat up beside him and hugged her legs. She turned to look at him and said, “Don’t you wish we were in the same class so we could study together?” 

Kyoutani feigned disgust at the thought.

“Hm?” she prodded as she batted her eyes at him. When she leaned in closer to him, pretending to kiss him, Kyoutani pushed her face away with his whole palm. She pouted, then got up to finally open the paper gift bag she brought with her.

“I have something for you.” She pulled out her notebook, pieces of coloured paper peeking out of the edges. She stood in front of him, revealing the notebook’s cover. Y/n had pasted together a picture of the two of them with the words “Happy 12th birthday” written underneath in her handwriting.

Kyoutani blinked a couple of times, not knowing what to say. His shoulders relaxed, still staring at the scrapbook.

“I know it’s still a few hours until your birthday, but I didn’t want to miss it—”

Kyoutani wrapped his arms around her. He felt her tense up before she started to pat his head.

Kyoutani had a rough day. He heard his teammates talking behind his back again. He didn't care to be their friends, but he at least longed for a team where he felt like he was wanted.

Y/n kissed his hair and hugged his head. Kyoutani sighed, deciding this was enough for now. He could be a lone wolf with volleyball knowing he didn't have to be one with her.

*****

Textbooks, pens and notebooks covered the kitchen table. Y/n dropped her head on her notes, exhausted from studying.

“I’m just going to close my eyes for a bit,” she told Kyoutani. “Wake me up if I actually fall asleep.”

“Why don’t you just go home?” he replied as he scrunched his brows, still glaring at the words in his textbook.

“Because I'll fail the test tomorrow.”

Kyoutani glanced at Y/n, her necklace catching his eye. Its pendant dangled as she stirred with her eyes still closed.

“Where’s your uniform's bow?”

“I threw it out.”

“What?”

“I know,” she yawned. “But it doesn't match this bow,” she said, pointing to her hair. “And I like this necklace.”

“Whatever.” Kyoutani didn’t bother. He knew the teachers would let her get away with it anyway. Even if they asked about her modification, she would just claim she lost it.

Kyoutani checked his phone. It was July 6, one of the days Y/n used as an excuse to flirt with him. He frowned, knowing that lately, he wasn't the only person she teased.

They entered high school that year. With new faces, students were eager to get to know each other. Some looked to make new friends while others searched for dating potentials. So there was one guy who made a pass on Y/n, and as they got to know each other, Y/n started to tease and flirt with him too.

Whenever Kyoutani saw them together, he shoved the guy aside and took Y/n with him. Y/n would prod him, asking if he was jealous. He denied it every time. He knew she wasn't serious when she flirted. She just liked getting a reaction.

Like with him.

He sighed at his unrequited feelings, pondering the pointlessness of them. It was pathetic. Gazing at Y/n shut eyelids, he wondered if he should put his feelings to rest too.

“I’m awake!” Y/n exclaimed, popping her head up and causing Kyoutani to flinch. He relaxed when she plopped her head back on the table. She turned to Kyoutani, staring at him. Kyoutani blinked a few times, wondering if she was going to say something. She did.

“Kyo-chan, you’re so pretty.”

Kyoutani rolled his eyes, knowing she was in her loopy mode and definitely too sleepy. “You should go home now.”

“Noooo~ I don’t want to.”

He rubbed his head, not knowing what to do with her. “Ugh, just go already,” he complained, grabbing her arm.

“But I want to stay with you,” she replied. He scoffed, shoving her arm back to her, before she continued. “I love you, Kyo-chan.”

Kyoutani choked up a bit. Did she really mean that? He studied her eyes, realizing she was serious. But his doubts still lingered, hesitant to reply.

He went for it. He didn't care anymore. He took this opening, hoping to keep his feelings alive and awake.

So he swooped in to give her a deep kiss, finally releasing the months - no, probably years - of longing for her. And she returned it.

After they broke apart, she commented with a smirk, "Did you remember it was international kissing day?"

"No, I forgot," he lied, going for another kiss.

*****

"I can't believe Yahaba got sick and missed this," whispered Oikawa.

"Yeah," Iwaizumi replied with a smirk. "He was the one who was curious about her the most."

Kyoutani watched Y/n as she came back to their table. She took the seat beside him and snuggled up against him when he placed his arm around her. She puckered her lips, asking for a kiss. Kyoutani gave a snort and rolled his eyes. But upon seeing her frown, he decided to give her a peck anyway.

"Ewww...," Hanamaki teased them.

"PDA! PDA!" Matsukawa chanted.

Kyoutani glared at them while Y/n giggled at his reaction like usual.

*****

Bonus/ Preview

Their team's manager fidgeted at the table, glancing at her wrist after scanning the restaurant. "Kindaichi," she whispered, nudging him. "Where's Kunimi?"

"He said his mom needed him for something."

"Oh," was all that came out of her lips. It seemed like she would have to wait until the new school year to see him again.

*****

Author's Notes:

I hope you liked it. :) I can't believe I was able to make a cute story for Kyoutani. lollll.

Also, their team manager is Y/n from WWYTF SMAU (completed) and Kimiko is Y/n from my Yahaba fic. Now a bunch of my fics are in the same world because I thought it would be fun. lol! (FYI, that wasn't the real reason why Kunimi wasn't there.)

*****

Matchup request description from anonymous: (For the longest time, I didn't know what to do with this. lol. I'm sorry I took so long to write this.)

Hi ^^ I like your writing and saw you were taking match up requests. I'm a small korean girl under 5ft. I have black wavy hair that is barely above my shoulders but I tie it back half up half down style with a black bow uwu. I also have wispy bangs with a round face and a small nose. I have round circle glasses that fall down cause of my small nose. In my spare time I do art. I usually paint, scrapbook, and edit. If I'm with friends I play card games but I get kinda competitive 💫

💫When I get comfortable with someone I start to become more of myself. In school I work really hard so people assume I'm smart. I also watch my words so people think I'm sweet and innocent. That's the complete opposite with my friends. I tend to flirt with them so I end up saying sexual things. And I won't hesitate to put my friends in pain by speaking uwu. With my 0 braincells I decided I would do anything almost anything for the aesthetic. Breaking dress code is one of them. 💫

Taglist: @dorkyama @the-black-birb @hqprotectionsquad @nagichi-kenma @moonaaluna @muffins-puffins (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[infinites-chaser]

Librarian! PH. 52 MLQC MC / Victor :)

HELLO ANON U WERE ONE OF THE FIRST PEOPLE TO RESPOND TO MY LIBRARIAN ASK GAME I’M SO SORRY IT’S TAKEN SO LONG,,, victor is just. hard to write. aLSO I'm doubly sorry since i’ll be combining this with the Victor ask from @truth-be-told-im-lying ​ hope neither of you mind T-T i don’t think my mind could do two victor ficlets akwlfjsdkls

ANyway I love you both LOTS AND LOTS hopefully this attempt at Victor isn’t extremely out of character;;; it’s a lowkey soulmates AU if that counts for anything :> aND this fic gets the special treatment of an actual Title bc True was wonderful enough to help me by typing Victor as an Enneagram Type One

okaaay and without further ado, 

49, 52 + Victor/MC

‘[He] wakes up in [his] bed, determined to begin again.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 49)

‘As [he] pushes through the onlookers to meet [her], he is certain he is the only person moving.’- These Ghosts Are Family, Maisy Card. (pg. 52)

((pronoun changes in both quotes to better fit the ficlet))

spoilers for Victor/MC’s childhood!

spend my whole life searching

Victor doesn’t believe in soulmates. (After half a lifetime of searching turning up nothing, he doesn’t believe in much.)

Once upon a time, he might’ve. (He wanted to). His heart rate doubled and sped up to match hers— a carefree little girl skipping across the road, too far away to hear his nerves cry danger, too caught up in dreams and fantasies to hear his warning shout. Time slowed down so he could save her, and on that afternoon on the crosswalk, drops of rain suspended in the air, he did.

At that age, he hadn’t had the sense to wonder why a young girl like her had been crossing the street without supervision. Why her smiles had come freely, but had always looked a little sad, a little wistful. Why she’d been so eager to accept his baked treats. Why she’d been at the playground without a parent. Why she’d always been alone.

Now, seventeen years later, he wishes he did. Wishes he’d known something as simple as her last name.

He dreams of her. Of finding her again: the girl whose heartbeat matched his. The girl whose smile had slowed down time itself for him, as if short moments with her could’ve each stretched into a gentle eternity. He’d wanted them to. He’d wanted to capture every moment spent with her, to make them last, to savor them, so they’d pass slow and sweet like honey on the tongue.

Time had passed slow when he’d wanted it to. Those sunlit afternoons had been sweet, they’d been happy.

Only, time is a fickle thing. When he takes his eye off it, it races away, too fast for him to keep up.

The kidnapping. The experiments. The torture.

The escape.

She saves him. He’s too slow to save her.

And even if he can stop time, here’s the thing: he can never turn the clock back.

Still, he wakes up. Every morning, he gets out of bed. Gets dressed and goes to work. The world around him moves on, and demands he does, too, even if his heart’s still eleven years old and clutching her motionless body, eleven years old, the only sound in his ears his pounding pulse, the absence of the accompaniment of hers an accusation more painful than any hateful words.

It’s a recurring theme in his life, time. It’s ironic, really, when he thinks about it. That he can stop time without lifting a finger, and yet, when it comes to things he cares about, people he loves most, he’s always eleven years old again, always too late.

(His Evol’s time control, but perhaps, all this time, he hasn’t been controlling time, it’s been controlling him. He’s imprisoned by a single moment, a memory, a regret. A past that can never be undone.)

Whenever he has spare time, he devotes himself to searching. Resigns himself to the fact he’ll probably never find her, if all he has to go off of is a child’s face, once preserved in his memory, now fading. Hair color. Eye color. Age. A name. Nothing more.

The searches turn up nothing. 

He spends late nights in the office to distract himself, builds up a capitalist kingdom of a company, if only to put off for a few hours more the prospect of returning home to face his nightmares alone.

His father praises him for LFG’s growth over dinners filled with awkward silences. The name Victor Li appears more and more often in business newspapers. Investors approach him. He gets interviews. Gets offers for TV appearances, for sponsorships.

He takes them, these material successes. Wonders if any amount of them could ever make up for the failure from his childhood. If they could bring her back. He tells himself if he finds her, when he finds her, when he brings her back, it’ll be to a more perfect world. One in which he’ll never fail her again. It’s a foolish thought, but it keeps him going. With it in mind, he proceeds to work twice as hard.

Souvenir is what saves him. A small allowance, a self-indulgence, a seed of hope planted in what he thinks is his darkest time.

It’s for her, more than any of his frantic searching ever was. A dream, a foolish one, that one day she’ll step through his memories and through the restaurant’s door, that one day they’ll share a pudding together again, their hearts beating as one.

He doesn’t get to open Souvenir often; his job doesn't let him. He made sure of that, long ago. But when he does, after the last customer’s left, and he’s put up the closed sign, he cooks for two.

(The first time, Mr. Mills had taken a single look at his silent, still face, and his expression must've spoken volumes. The older man hadn't said a word, only helped clean the kitchen after, the normally gentle lines around his mouth pulled taut in a worried frown.)

He sets the second place at the table himself: carefully places fork, knife and spoon beside lukewarm appetizers, tucks a napkin under soup bowls going cold. Watches the empty seat and the untouched meal for an eternity before finally eating his own. His technique's impeccable. It has been ever since he'd aced his culinary lessons, since he'd bought out the school. He'd used the finest ingredients. He always does.

The food still crumbles like ash in his mouth. (It always does.)

Mr. Mills will find him there, nursing a glass of wine long into the night. He knows better not to question it, but sometimes he'll pull up a chair, drink a glass, too. talk of everything and nothing, talk of his parents, his sister's family, of times gone by.

Victor will never admit it, but the older man's presence makes those nights less hard. his stories, his memories — they keep the ice in his heart from spreading any further when it feels like nothing else will.

Ten years stretch into thirteen, into fourteen, into fifteen, into a broken clock, time stopped because does the passage of time mean anything if he measures it, measured it in time with her? If she's gone?

The meals shrink. First appetizers vanish, then entrees too, until all that's left are desserts, puddings that he stares at all evening, puddings a girl had loved once, that he can almost imagine her sitting there eating, her noticing him watching her and her answering blush and smile. His smile back.

Almost, because after all these years without her, he can’t quite imagine her face. Not as she would look now. Not even as she was, seventeen years back.

(He dreams and finds he doesn’t remember what her smile looked like, exactly. Doesn’t remember the sound of her heartbeat mingling with the sound of his.

Memory is cruel. Memory is imperfect. No matter if you can stop time, no matter how hard you try to memorize a moment, when you revisit it, it’ll never be the same as when you lived it the first time.)

Then:

The day starts like any other. He wakes up, gets out of bed, gets ready for another day of work, another night of searching. He scrolls emails while waiting for his espresso machine to heat, then puts his tablet aside when the coffee's done. He eats in silence. As always, he's done five minutes before he needs to leave for the company, the perfect amount of time for him to do a last-minute check in the mirror— his tie's straight, his shirt unwrinkled, not a hair on his head out of place. The reflection that stares back at him is unchanging; these days it barely shows even the passage of time.

He sighs. Shakes the thought off like the piece of lint it is on his otherwise immaculate state of being, and heads for the door, the lock automatically clicking behind him at eight o'clock am, exactly on schedule, exactly as planned.

He's about to take a seat in his car when an inexplicable urge to walk to work takes hold of him. He pauses. Calculates and re-calculates the time it would take (fifteen minutes, not accounting for rush hour traffic making crosswalks slow), and he's about to decide it's not worth it, it's a silly thought, but the urge intensifies.

Do it, the eleven-year-old in his heart seems to be telling him. You won't regret it.

He frowns and rubs his forehead— for a moment, he wonders if all his searching, all his foolish hopes are finally getting to his brain.

He decides to take the walk, anyway.

He regrets it, not nine minutes later, when despite the sun's light shining strong through the clouds, a light rain begins to fall.

Worse still, the traffic lights haven't changed once in the past ninety seconds. He won't be late, he'd accounted for this, but he's stuck in a crowd of pedestrians, and their chatter's beginning to grate on his nerves. He's considering calling the mayor about it after exactly one hundred seconds have passed— clearly, the light's broken, this is far too long for commuters to wait— but then, finally the walk sign flicks on.

He's already across the street when it happens:

First, a phone rings.

Then, the loud honking of a car.

Tires screech.

Time slows. Time stops.

He's back on the crosswalk in a matter of heartbeats, the inattentive idiot in his arms (it's a girl, it's always a girl, hair dark, eyes wide, expression shocked).

"You..." She says, blinking up at him with those wide, almost-familiar eyes. Distantly, he registers the echo of a heartbeat overlapping with his.

"Who are you?"

Who are you? His mind asks, but deep in his heart, he already knows the answer. It can't be.

"Evolver?" He says instead, shoving down memories that threaten to surface: another rainy day, another crosswalk, another heart that had seemed matched to his. He tells himself he's being delusional, that he thinks he can hear her heartbeat because she's in his arms, wide-eyed and fragile, her heartrate skittering back and forth like a fool— this isn't like his careful, methodical searching, this is a fluke beyond flukes, it means nothing, it'll lead to nothing in the end.

But she's in his arms, warm and soft against his protective embrace, she's in his arms and it feels so right it's almost painful, his pulse pulled into a panicked pace to match hers.

He sets her down abruptly, as if burned, and turns to go.

"Someone can't come to your rescue every time."

Around them, suspended raindrops begin to fall. The world, resumed. The world, once again predictable and mundane. Except for her.

He knows, without looking back, she's staring after him, her heart, his heart, still racing.

He allows himself a smile.

He allows himself some small sliver of hope.

(His frozen time starts moving again.)

[charming-2d-boys]

hi could you do a drabble (idk) about F! reader being choked by chrollo thighs like :"she doesn't want to answer chrollo questions ,she wants to escape since she has poweful nen but chrollo catch her with his thigs, (a little nsfw)that's all 👉👈 thanks💌

Ohoho, anon, we're going this way, huh? 😏

For real, though, I think I forgot how to breathe for a second from suddenly thinking about Chrollo's thighs.

Anyway, thank you for the request and I'll try my best!

Also, I changed this a bit because I really struggled thinking about a... normal situation where someone could possibly be choked by someone’s thighs and how to get there 😂

Warning: long and NSFW-ish.

P.S.: what a way to go... *dreamy sigh*

You’ve Got Another Thing Coming - Chrollo x Reader

   You had underestimated Chrollo Lucilfer, that’s for sure. The man appeared tall and skinny in that suit, and with that pretty face and big, grey eyes, he seemed innocent and as if he couldn’t hurt a fly.

   Boy, were you wrong.

   This man had managed to charm you and pretty much anyone who came into contact with him at this party. You were invited as a plus one since your friend was a famous architect and everyone was talking about their amazing designs for some of the newest and fanciest buildings in the city.

   He’d talked in such an alluring way, charisma rolling off him in waves, attracting gazes, both curious and sultry, while his face and voice made you think of him as a being sculpted by the gods themselves. And somehow, amidst all the pompous talking between all those rich people and the alcohol being served to guests, you found yourself talking with him in a little corner of the dimmed room, barely away from prying eyes and ears.

   Chrollo was extremely intelligent, cultured and well-read. The way he held himself and spoke were becoming more and more attractive as the night progressed. Literature, history, culture, foreign languages, dreams, passions, you discussed about pretty much anything you could think of and he always seemed to find the perfect ways to make you talk more and more. His eyes were shining in delight whenever you’d say something that he didn’t expect or didn’t know about.

   And when he asked you if you’d like to leave and go somewhere more... private, you jumped at the opportunity. His smile spelt trouble, but you had no idea what you were getting yourself into yet.

   A short car ride brought the two of you to a 5 star hotel some minutes away from the party’s location, with few words exchanged while the air seemed filled with electricity. As soon as Chrollo parked the car, his hand found itself naturally on the small of your back, gently pushing you through the hotel’s rotating doors and into the large, well-lit and opulently decorated lobby. While you were staring in awe at the impressive decorum and gigantic chandelier seemingly made out of gold and with an abundance of shimmering crystals hanging from its arched arms, Chrollo was asking for his room key card, amused at your look of wonder and excited for what was to come.

   You admitted that, when you both got into the pristine elevator that would take you to one of the highest floors, you felt your heart hammer in your chest and the butterflies in your stomach rioting. You were itching to touch Chrollo and the electricity almost seemed palpable as you felt your fingers twitch when the little ding announced your arrival at the desired floor. The two of you got off and Chrollo’s touch once again kept your lower back warm as his fingers pressed lightly into the skin while his other hand opened the door with the key card.

   You expected him to pounce on you as soon as the door closed behind the two of you, but he only loosened his tie a bit before taking your hand and leading you into the spacious suite, the large, neatly-done bed with a few rose petals scattered on its plush surface being one of the first things that caught your attention.

   “Would you like anything to drink?” Chrollo asked in the same charming voice, as he pointed at the champagne bottle in the ice bucket that sat on a large table against the opposite wall, a white rose next to it. This set-up seemed a bit too well coordinated, too convenient, as if he was expecting something to happen. You guessed with his looks and intelligence, he had every reason to. You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and saw Chrollo looking at you with kind, slightly amused eyes before you nodded your head, your throat feeling too parched for you to utter a word.

   His hand and warmth left you as he poured two glasses of champagne before handing you one, both of you clinking them before taking a few sips. Your eyes tried looking everywhere but at the handsome man in front of you, feeling a bit awkward to be in his presence alone. You felt like prey while his eyes studied you as if he was a predator thinking of the best ways to get to you. He put his glass down and did the same to yours before his arms encircled your waist, pressing you flush against his warm body. And as he started pulling you towards the large bed and turned you around at the last moment to push you down onto your back, you noticed the bandage covering his forehead slowly coming undone. Chrollo pulled further on his loosened tie until he pulled it off completely and threw it on the carpeted floor, before the bandage followed, allowing you to see the cross tattoo on the soft skin of his forehead. His dark blue pinstripe blazer was the last piece of clothing to come off before he rolled the sleeves of his black, silk dress shirt to his elbows. God, he really was attractive.

   The look his eyes gave off was one of absolute power as his fingers started going over the skin of your calves softly, inching their way under your dress, before his fingers gripped your thighs and pulled you further down the bed until your legs were around his hips.

   “When were you planning on telling me?” He asked in a honeyed voice as he came closer to you, pushing you further down as his lips ghosted over the skin of your neck and his hands held your wrists firmly.

   “Tell you what?” You batted your eyelashes at him innocently as Chrollo’s fingertips seemed to get colder.

   “Don’t play games with me, (Y/N). Why can’t I use my Nen? What did you do?” He asked, his teeth biting gently at your pulse point making you chuckle. His smile was a bit colder and you could see a bit of annoyance make itself known as the corner of his mouth twitched when he heard your chuckle.

   “Now, why would you worry about that? What we were about to do didn’t have anything to do with your Nen, did it, Chrollo?” Your tone was amused as his body pressed even more into yours, trying to make you see nothing else but him and his grey eyes. He wanted you to feel trapped. But it apparently didn’t really work.

   You gasped dramatically and his eye twitched slightly. “Oh my, were you planning on using your Nen on me? How rude of you! And here I thought you were a gentleman.” You could only sigh in mock sadness as you pouted. Chrollo’s grip on your hands got stronger at this.

   “How did you know?”

   “Oh? Hmm, who knows~ I just had a feeling about you. You’re not as subtle as you think you are, you know?” You winked. You wouldn’t tell him that you saw the handprint on his book and that his interest in other people’s Nen was a bit too straightforward. Also, the rumours... Few, true, but they all said the same thing: after talking with a young man, somehow, some people’s Nen would disappear. Most couldn’t really remember exactly who the young man was or how he looked like or what they did prior to losing their Nen. But it was enough to ring some bells and you felt... something during the party, before Chrollo approached you. Like something... moving in the air.

   Maybe the others were too intoxicated to realise that what they were saying and doing was pretty much their undoing. But apparently, your hesitance to tell Chrollo more about your Nen piqued his interest in you and your power. It was kind of funny, now that you thought about it. Right now, Chrollo’s eyes moved across your face, calculating his next move carefully. There was definitely more to you than meets the eye. And while he could appreciate that and enjoy the chase, he was also vexed because of your stubbornness. He hadn’t dealt with something like this in a while.

   “Well then, Chrollo, if you won’t show me a good time, then I’d like to leave and get on with my life.” You knew that your strength was probably way lower than his, but that didn’t stop you from trying to think of a way to get him to let go of your wrists so you could leave already. You weren’t really that scared of him because your Nen was something he needed and with how stubborn you were, not even torture would make you talk. Others had tried before and yet, here you were. Still alive and still having your Nen.

   “Oh, really now?” He whispered, his face so close to yours that your noses touched. You only nodded, definitely feeling how excited he had become. How many people usually managed to fool him and also keep him interested? Probably not many.

   Your legs locked at the ankles as you only pressed him closer to you, hearing a little hiss leave his lips in response before you kissed him. It wasn’t much, but his grip around your wrists weakened and you brought your hands to his, lacing your fingers together. Chrollo only hummed, grinding over you and squeezing your hands tighter. If he wanted to feel as if he was dominating you and getting somewhere with this whole charade, then so be it.

   He almost moaned when you bit his lip gently, before separating yourself from him to breathe and allowing him to move downwards and mark your neck. Just because you wouldn’t allow him to take your Nen didn’t mean you couldn’t indulge yourself in this moment of pleasure and let your body feel his ministrations. Chrollo definitely knew what he was doing. Too bad for him that it wasn’t enough to cloud your mind.

   “Hey, Chrollo?”

   “Hmm?“ He moved his face to yours again, staring into your eyes. He loved this look on you: dishevelled, with your body underneath his and your breathing ragged because of him.

   “I’m sorry.” You said, and before he could comprehend what had happened, he was rolling off you on his side, clutching his head. You didn’t have time to hiss in pain before you were getting up and slightly stumbling to your feet, ready to get the hell out of there. And people called you hard-headed. Sheesh, this guy’s head must’ve been made out of steel then.

   Before you could reach the door, you felt a huge pressure on your back before you were sprawled out on your stomach, wheezing. You tried getting up but only felt his foot on your back, keeping you down. He crouched down before pulling on your shoulder, turning you to face him. His smile was gone and the skin where his tattoo was was red, swollen and bleeding a bit. Chrollo crawled over your body, pinning your arms dows as his calves kept them glued to your sides and you felt almost all of his weight settle on your ribcage, making it harder for you to breathe. If this would’ve been a normal situation, you would’ve probably found this position really hot.

   Still, even as you were trying to get air back into your lungs, you could only chuckle. Chrollo tilted his head at you, a cold smile on his lips.

   “What is so amusing, darling?” He asked, curious about your reason. If you were losing it or were hysterical from fear, maybe you’d talk sooner.

   “You.” That’s it. That was your reason. This whole situation. The fact that he would probably go to such lengths just to get you to talk about your Nen so he could have it. Chrollo’s eye twitched as he watched you laugh.

   Weird, stubborn, intelligent girl. You weren’t going to give in so easily, huh?

   “I know what you’re thinking Chrollo. And believe me when I tell you this: if you think I’ll give you what you want that easily... You’ve got another thing coming.” You stared straight into his grey eyes with a smile on your face. He was smart and stubborn.

   But so were you.

[adenei]

I See You

Had an ask the other day from an anon requesting a fic similar to @headcanonsandmore​ ‘s story “All of Me”. Since Headcanons gave me the all clear, here is my take on Ron & Hermione attempting to learn Occlumency (and also Legilimency because they kinda go hand in hand. Set in the summer between HBP and DH at the Burrow 

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Quick personal message to all you wonderful people out there: I’ve had an influx in asks, please bear with me as it’s taking longer to try and tackle them. I try to stick to the order they come in (ish), but sometimes I open the computer and I start writing whichever sticks in my mind first. I don’t want to push things out too quickly and have the quality go to shit, either. I’d also like to get back to some original ideas I’ve got, and some of your asks actually do reflect things I’ve got planned for my own writing. I don’t want to turn my ask box off for a bit, but I may need to. Thank you all again for entrusting me with your ideas. I hope I am doing them justice ❤

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I See You.

“Ron, I’ve been thinking,” Hermione said as she sat on the floor of his attic bedroom. They’d just finished meeting with the rest of the Order about the initial ideas for a plan to retrieve Harry from the Dursleys. Ron was sitting on his bed, flipping through one of his books on the Chudley Cannons, while Hermione was busy jotting notes down about who knew what.

Ron peered over the book at her. “About what?” he asked apprehensively. 

“I want to try and learn occlumency.”

Ron closed his book and looked at her. “Why?”

“Well, we don’t really know what’s going to happen when we leave for the mission. I’d like to hope for the best, but what happens if we get caught? Or separated? What if our captors try and read our minds to get information because we won’t give it away.”

“They’ll probably torture us instead,” Ron said grimly.

“But still! Shouldn’t we at least try to block our minds? See if we can even do it?” Hermione pressed him.

“Well, sure, maybe, but you’re forgetting one small problem. In order to learn how to shut our minds, we also need to know legilimency. Anyone in the Order who knows is too busy to ask them to do one more thing anyways.”

“I’ve thought about that, too. I have this book that I’ve been reading, that goes into detail about legilimency and occlumency. The theory behind it, how to perform it, and the like.” Hermione stood up and went over to Ron’s bookshelf. 

Ever since arriving a couple weeks ago, she’d sort of taken over a lot of the space in Ron’s already small bedroom. Not that he minded. His bookshelf was always scarce to begin with, so it wasn’t an imposition for her to use the space. He watched her reaching for a book on the top shelf. She was on her tiptoes and her fingertips were barely able to graze the book she wanted.

Rolling his eyes, he got up and grabbed the book for her. “Honestly, woman, are you a witch or not?” his eyes shone as a smirk tugged playfully at his lips. He handed her the book.

“Oh, stop it! That retort is so first year, don’t you think?” Hermione brushed past him and sat on his bed, patting it for him to join her. She opened the book to the theory. “See? So, you would cast legilimens while I tried to empty and clear my mind to block you from seeing anything.”

“So you’re suggesting we practice on each other?”

“Y-yes, I’ve been practicing what Snape told Harry back in fifth year when he was supposed to be learning.” Hermione pretended to be reading through the book.

“...Alright. I suppose you’ve got a point.” Ron got up and shut his door. He locked it and cast silencio so that no one would know what they were up to. He turned to face her. “You’re sure you want to try this?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Hermione asked.

“Well, what if I do manage to see inside your mind, and you can’t block it?”

Hermione bit her lip. She hadn’t really thought about that. “Well, we’ve known each other long enough that I’m sure there’s nothing there that you don’t already know.” She hoped her lie was convincing enough. Honestly, if he did see anything there, then maybe that would be easier than actually admitting her feelings to him.

“Okay..are you ready?” Ron held up his wand as she closed her eyes and did her best to clear her mind. “Legilimens!”

For a brief moment, Hermione felt a small tug in her mind, but then nothing happened.

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” she heard Ron say.

“No! I felt something. There was a small tug, as if a door was trying to open into my mind. Ron, I think you were onto something! Try it again, but really mean it!” Hermione urged him on.

Ron was still a bit worried about invading her privacy, but she seemed so serious about this, so he tried again. This time he saw the tiniest flashes of moments in his own mind. It wasn’t enough to decipher what was happening, but he saw a young Hermione outside, and then Hermione in the dress he thought she wore to the Christmas party. The spell fizzled out, and he was back in his room.

“Whoa…” he said. “You okay?” 

She nodded. “Did you see anything?”

“Yeah, but really quick flashes of things.”

“It’s a weird feeling. Like I’m trying to push against you.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No, try it one more time. Just give me a second to clear my mind again.”

“Okay.” If Ron was being honest with himself, he wanted to see more of that memory from the Christmas party. He used that desire to drive the spell as he cast Legilimens one more time.

Hermione was definitely fighting back this time, but instead of letting her win, he pushed back with the spell. It was as if the spell found the weak spot in her defense, and pried it open. All of a sudden he saw her at the Christmas party again, and she looked miserable. She was hiding from McLaggen, and he watched her leave the party early and enter an empty classroom with tears streaming down her face. She didn’t say anything in the memory, but he heard her thoughts echo in his own brain, ‘What were you thinking? Of course he’s not Ron! No one is.’ He watched her mind wander back to when she’d asked him to go and wondered what went wrong.

Ron broke the charm. “Shit! I’m sorry!” He said, rubbing his eyes, as if trying to erase what he’d just seen.

Hermione was staring blankly at him, her face burning from a mixture of embarrassment and exertion of trying to fight him off. “You….you fought back,” she said faintly.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” Ron started to say.

“N-no, you’re right. If it was a death eater, they wouldn’t give up.”

“Do you want to switch?” Ron didn’t necessarily want her prying into his own mind, but at the same time, he felt he owed her as much.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Hermione said.

“It’s fine, really. Reckon you’re right, after all. I should have an idea what it feels like,” Ron admitted.

“Okay, well, try and clear your mind then,” Hermione told him.

Ron shut his eyes and forced himself not to think of anything, which was easier said than done. He heard Hermione say “Legilimens” and felt a weird sensation of pressure on his mind. He found himself saying over and over again, think of nothing, as he tried to keep the door to his mind shut, but he felt her break the wall as he saw himself arguing with Hermione after the Yule Ball. He tried to push her away from it, but he felt Hermione dig in deeper with the charm and more of those memories were revealed. 

He felt the anger and hurt of every time she’d chosen Krum over him when she wrote those letters, saw him try and make up for his stupid jealousy by buying her that perfume for Christmas, as if that was going to make her notice him more than Krum. Then he saw her ask him to Slughorn’s party, followed by the row he had with Ginny a few days after. 

Hermione yelped and broke the charm when she heard Ginny scream, ‘Even Hermione’s snogged Viktor Krum’ and saw Ron sputtering in anger. Her wand fell to the floor as Ron was squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing his temple. “Bloody hell, Hermione!” He should have known this was a bad idea.

“You...you….” Hermione was having trouble forming words. Ron knew this never ended well for him. “Is that why you iced me out? Why you… I’m going to kill her,” Hermione turned toward the door and made to unlock it when Ron strode over and put his hand on the door.

“No...Hermione, don’t. It’s not her fault,” Ron told her. 

“Yes, it is! Are you joking? She ruined everything!” Hermione tried to push Ron out of the way, but he was too tall and muscular against her small frame to make any difference.

Ron took a deep breath, but held firm. He’d had a lot of time to think about that whole fiasco, and it was time he finally admitted it out loud. “No, Hermione, it was my fault. I’m the one who reacted like a bloody idiot. Sure, I was pissed about it, but I was also hurt that you didn’t tell me yourself. I was the only one who didn’t know!”

“So you chose to shut me out instead of confronting me about it?” Hermione questioned.

“Well, yeah, since I always gave you a hard time about Krum, bringing it up wouldn’t have helped anything. Knew that from experience, so I wanted to deal with it on my own.” Ron tried his best to explain it to her so she would understand, but he felt like he was mucking it up.

“But if you had brought it up, then you would have known that I never- well it doesn’t matter now does it,” Hermione said as she gave up trying to leave and walked over to sit on his bed. She put her head in her hands.

“Hermione, I am sorry. I wanted to go to that party with you.” Ron sat down beside her, and reached out for her hand.

“Then why did you snog her?” Hermione looked at him, and all the hurt he’d caused her hit him like a ton of bricks. 

“I- Because she was interested, and wasn’t afraid to show it, I guess. I was only just starting to cool off, and then the whole Felix thing happened, and I just took it as you thought I was rubbish at quidditch and needed a potion to perform well.” Ron couldn’t believe he’d actually admitted that. He supposed she’d already seen everything leading up to it, so he owed her the honesty.

“But-” Hermione tried to say, but Ron cut her off.

“I know,” Ron said. And he did. He knew deep down that she thought he was good at quidditch, but Hermione was never one to outwardly praise anyone. 

“I’m sorry.” Hermione finally said. “I do believe in you, you know.”

“I know that now.” Ron said. “And I’m sorry for not talking to you about it...and rubbing that whole mess of a relationship in your face.”

She looked at him again. “We’re okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Ron offered her a small smile, and against his better judgment, reached his arms around her to pull her in for a hug. To his relief, Hermione hugged him back.

Before she pulled away from him, Hermione said, “Maybe we should leave the occlumency alone after all.”

“Yeah, I’d be okay with that. Wanna see if there’s any leftover biscuits downstairs?” Ron asked, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Hermione said as she closed the book and used magic to place it back up on the top shelf.

[curious-menace]

Have I really ever requested one thing of you (the pegging telltale Riddler h/c)? Time to change that; let's see how the Eddies would respond to being told by their partner that they're a "bad boy" and "need to be punishment" (sexually, of course) - Pegging Anon.

I really enjoy these kinds of asks. honestly just give me a blank check for mayhem, unleash me upon the riddlers like a plague of locusts 

nsfw below the cut

Arkham! Riddler

please be careful with this riddler. He has problems reading peoples tone and if he thinks youre angry at him you're liable to send him into a panic.

he really doesn't like dirty talk. dont call him a slut or a whore or anything like that. Not only is it demeaning and humiliating( 2 things this riddler doesnt deal well with) its just a terrible way to get him to do what you want.

again, the idea of punishment in a sexy setting is a turn off for him. He’s afraid of being strangled or choked and he doesn't find being hit sexy.

to put it simply, this riddler reacts better to the carrot than the stick. if you want a good reaction out of him, praise and affection work better. call him a good boy, give him pets and rewards. 

IF you were to coax him into it, safeword, soft restraints and reassuring from you that everything will be ok, he’ll still probably cry. he might enjoy himself but the emotional stress will still leave him in an utter state.

i know some people use BDSM to cope with trauma but maybe dont try this on him. pitch the idea and let him mull it over. dont bring it up more than once or twice and let him decide

he always needs a lot of aftercare. he needs to be constantly reassured, not just after sex, that you love him , that he’s done well. lots of kisses and soft words and let him rest from the heavy stuff for a little while. 

Blacklight riddler

another riddler you need to tread carefully with. he’s a kinky shit but like...a soft kinky shit who bruises easily.

He wont need coaxing. its either a hell yes or a hell no and you shouldn't push that. He likes sex games but he’s got trauma, sometimes something that was fine yesterday is triggering today so please be gentle and respectful with him.

He doesnt mind being called a bad boy, just not too often. mix it up and don't patronise him all the time . you can tell him off without treating him like a kid. 

he likes edging and orgasm denial as a punishment. just dont ruin his orgasm or he wont let you do it again. 

please don't ever hit him during sex. a playful thump on the arm when he’s telling a bad joke is one thing but if you touch him roughly during the act, even if he knows its coming, he finds it triggering. 

He’s pretty exclusively a sub but don't think that means he’s into punishment all the time. mostly he just likes his dominant to take care of him.

BTAS Riddler

i feel like it would throw him for a loop. he’d be confused as all hell, even if you said it in a sexy voice he might not get the message.

 he’d probably scoff at the idea. the notion that he’s anything other than perfect is laughable. he’s certainly not some sort of bad boy. you should sit on his lap and get him on the same page as you. watch his mouth go dry and his eyes go wide as you explain all the things you're going to do to him for being bad. he’ll do his best to stay composed but we both know its you who’d be wearing the pants by the end of the conversation. 

he’d want to be tied up. he’ll be gibbering and rambling the entire time, desperately trying to stay in control of the situation.  He’ll try to do things for you but a gentle reminder that you’re in control and if he doesn't anything he’ll be punished more will have him biting his tongue. 

I think humiliation works best on this one. im imagining something with rope or his suits since he’s so fond of them. maybe try and make him cum while still clothed? maybe some shibari under his suit jacket? i’ll let you decide. 

he doesnt have a safeword bc he thinks its strictly a bdsm thing and refuses to admit he’s into that. he prefers to use the traffic light system. although you probably had to teach him that. before hand he was using some nonsense riddler made system involving humming different songs. ode to joy for fun/keep going and  vivaldi winter for slow down.  you will have to gently explain what a batshit insane idea that was. 

Original Riddler

I imagine he’d be into it, moreso initially than the others. He doesnt have so much emotional baggage and he’s game to try anything once. 

I dont know if he’d find the idea of punishment sexy but he’ll try it for you. he’d probably just prefer you to frame it as impact play or degradation or whatever “just because” you wanna try it. something about it being a meant as a punishment just seems weird to him 

he does like being called names but in a cute playful way. he’s not liable to take offence at anything you say, inside or outside the bedroom but digs at his appearance do sting a little. even if youre “in character” so to speak when you say them. just reassure him after that you dont really think those things.

He’s one of the tallest riddlers and also has zero shame so you’ll need to be inventive when thinking of punishments. tying him up could actually hurt him with his circulation, he runs around in glittery spandex all day anyway so good luck trying to humiliate him. 

Because he is so tall and strong, its hard to hurt him. you could try spanking him, ask him to count out the spanks and listen as his voice gets higher and more unsteady with each one. 

actually in that note and given his penchant for dress up maybe you could try sub/dom roleplay? pretend you're a doctor/nurse or something and you're punishing him for his bad diet? if the punishment thing doesn't work out at least you’ll both get a giggle out of it. 

Telltale Riddler

Oh he is absolutely going to fight you on this one “i think YOU'RE the one who needs punishing , love.” . if you want to punish him you’ll have to fight for that right

he’s never really subbed before he met you. He’s happy to show you how to punish a sub but he really needs practice letting someone else hold the reins.

he pretends he doesn't like dirty talk. if you get him riled up and start whispering filthy things in his ear he’s going to melt a little. 

I cant think of a specific he’d like or something he’d find egregiously offensive, so i think you've got a blank cheque for mayhem here. do what you like and he’ll tell you then and there if he’s into it or not.  

but no blinders or restraints though. he’s claustrophobic after being in that icebox. He IS an escapartist mind you. even if you put him in something he’ll have wiggled out of it before you can blink . he MIGHT tolerate something just there for aesthetics or because the fabric feels nice, like maybe his tie or your hair bow tied loosely around his arms.

in the same vein, he’s sensitive so maybe you could lightly torture him with some sensory stuff. ice cubes or wax play?

Zero year Riddler

i Cannot stress to you enough what a horny fuck this one is. at the mere MENTION of sexy punishment he’s like “oh yes punish me ive been bad “ wiggling his ass in the air like a target. will call you Daddy regardless of your gender because we all know he has  issues. 

He’s 100 percent going to lean into it, goad you and taunt you to punish him more, get angrier or hit him harder. he gets off on the pain, yes but he also just really enjoys being an insufferable shit. 

“EDWARD THIS IS PUNISHMENT YOU ARENT SUPPOSED TO ENJOY IT” - you, probably. 

i dont think the traditional sexy punishment things will work on this one. youre going to have to get creative. like tell him you are in charge of his wardrobe and death traps for the week. 

something that MIGHT work would be forcing him to wear a toy or even just some lingerie under his suit. He’s going to be embarrassed as all hell because this riddler is a big buff cheeto puff who takes his appearance seriously. BUT he cant deny the thrill of maybe the lace poking out over his waist band when he bends or the outline of a bralette being seen under his shirt, isnt a little arousing.

please dont be surprised when he turns around a week later and pulls this exact same shit on you. 

there you go nonnie !  this one was quite a lot of fun! i have a rule of trying not to write more than 6 points for each but it was hard to compress down this time around. so much variety in personality and temperament in the one character there's a lot to write about 

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

[tickly-trashcan]

A Special Way {TodoDeku}

Hello anon, thank you for the prompt! This one got a bit longer than I expected i apologize, but i still hope you enjoy it!

edit: i completely forgot the ‘read more’ fdjkdbfdjdksbj sorry bout that

Summary: Midoriya realizes that everything Todoroki does makes him flustered, and so they decide to think of a way to change that!

Word Count: 1.6k (under the cut)

Midoriya sat on his dorm bed, bored out of his mind. He had already finished all his homework for the week, could he study? No, he didn’t have any tests coming up soon that would warrant that… Could he rearrange his All Might figure collection? No, he had just done that last week…

He sighed as he rolled onto his back, pulling out his little flip phone and clicking a few buttons, scrolling through his contacts for someone he could maybe hang out with. As he scrolled through, he kept remembering that everyone on the list had plans that day. Ochako and Tsuyu went to get some ice cream, Iida was visiting his brother…

Then there was Todoroki.

Was Todoroki doing anything that day? He couldn’t remember, Todoroki didn’t like to talk about himself and his plans that much.

It had been almost a month since he and Todoroki had started dating, and yet he still felt nervous and Todoroki had a hard time opening up to him… Midoriya sighed, remembering their first date when they went to tea and sat there awkwardly, Midoriya unable to formulate and Todoroki being too shy to start any sort of conversation. But in spite of that, it had gotten a bit better, although it was still difficult for Midoriya not to blush at every single thing Todoroki did.

Midoriya took a shaky breath and sent a text to Todoroki, asking if he could stop by his dorm. Midoriya sat up, holding his phone with a shaky hand as he waited for a response.

Seen.

Midoriya felt a sudden rush of warmth run over his back as he waited for the typing bubbles to pop up… any minute now…

Did Todoroki leave him on read?

Maybe he was busy, and Midoriya just bothered him, shoot! Midoriya slammed his hands against his face and groaned, falling back on his bed, rolling from side to side in shame.

He sat there for a while, trying to think of another person he could possibly hang out with when he heard a knock at his door. 

“Midoriya, are you in here?”

That voice… Was it Todoroki? Midoriya jumped up and ran towards the door, tripping clumsily over his chair, stubbing his toe as he cried out in pain.

The door opened on his own as Midoriya hunched over in pain, Todoroki walking in and kneeling down next to Midoriya, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Midoriya? Did you hurt yourself?”

Midoriya shook his head, a blush creeping up his cheeks as Todoroki’s grip on his shoulder tightened, Midoriya letting go of the foot he was clutching to wave his hands around.

“I-I’m fine, don’t worry about me! Sorry, I thought you were busy, I wasn’t expecting you,”

“I was just doing some schoolwork, I’d rather be spending time with you anyway.” Todoroki said plainly, his expression as unreadable as ever as Midoriya blushed at his words, covering his face as he did so.

“How can you say that so easily?!” Midoriya squeaked, making Todoroki smile slightly.

“Because I care about you Midoriya,” He said, again in his mildly monotone voice. Midoriya blushed again, crawling over to his bed and hiding his face in his pillow, whining.

“It’s not fair, I can’t say things like that!”

“Why not?” Todoroki asked, following Midoriya to the bed, sitting down next to Midoriya’s curled up body, rubbing his back.

“I get so… flustered, I don’t know. It’s hard to say them because I just get so nervous,” Midoriya tried to explain, burying his face further into the pillow, muffling his words even more.

Todoroki was barely able to understand what Midoriya was saying, but he got the gist, stopping his hand and scooting himself further up the bed, tugging at the pillow that Midoriya was clutching.

“How about we try and find a way to make you less nervous? What did All Might say before that training session… get your wiggles out? Something like that, we can get the nervousness out,” Todoroki said caringly, finally pulling the pillow away from Midoriya, who looked up at him with a confused expression, an expression that made Todoroki’s heart rate increase slightly. 

“Um, I don’t really know what can… heh, ‘get my wiggles out’,” Midoriya giggled, looking up at Todoroki. 

“Anything that makes you feel better? Like going for a walk, or maybe training?” 

Midoriya thought for a moment… something that made him feel better after…

He blushed slightly, reaching again for the pillow that Todoroki had tugged away, Todoroki grabbing it before Midoriya could.

“No hiding. Did you think of something?”

“Yes, but it’s embarrassing!”

Todoroki chuckled. “Everything’s embarrassing for you, Midoriya, just tell me.”

Midoriya covered his face with his hands, whining as Todoroki sighed. “Take as long as you need, I just want to help Midoriya,”

Todoroki was about to get up from the bed before Midoriya grabbed his wrist, pulling him back down. Todoroki scooted even closer to Midoriya, leaning down slightly.

“C-Can you… tickle me?”

Todoroki blinked a few times. He was expecting a few things but he wasn’t expecting… that. 

With lack of verbal response from Todoroki, Midoriya’s mind began to race. 

“A-Ah I’m sorry! I didn’t actually mean it, I can think of something els- Ack!”

He was cut off suddenly when Todoroki pounced on him, pinning him to the bed by straddling his waist, hovering over him with a small grin on his face, Midoriya blushing more at the sight.

“I-I, ah,” Midoriya tried to formulate, Todoroki setting his hands on Midoriya’s tummy, the warm and cool temperatures from both of them sending tingles up Midoriya’s spine as he looked down at Todoroki’s hands.

“I’ll be gentle, okay?”

Before Midoriya could speak out any flustered response, Todoroki lightly scratched his hands on Midoriya’s tummy, who immediately erupted in bubbly giggles.

“Eeheeheeheehee, Todoroki! W-Wahahahait!” Midoriya swatted at Todoroki’s hands, covering his mouth with one hand to try and suppress the giggles that kept bubbling out of his throat. 

“I’ll stop whenever you want me to, okay?” Todoroki said gently, his hands now exploring Midoriya’s sides as he let out a squeak, his giggles slowly forming into laughter.

Midoriya nodded, covering his mouth with both hands as Todoroki continued his torture. It was very ticklish, yes, but it was also gentle, and it made Midoriya feel safe as he laughed, Todoroki slowly going up to his ribs. Midoriya jolted and Todoroki halted.

“Not here?”

“Nohohoho, it’s… it’s okay,” Midoriya blushed, Todoroki smiling as he dug his fingers in a bit harder than before into Midoriya, showing that the gentle warm-up from earlier was over and it was time for some serious tickles and loud laughter, which quickly followed from Midoriya.

He twisted around slightly under Todoroki, but with him on top it was hard to move at all, so Midoriya could do nothing but cackle as Todoroki scooted down slightly in his straddle, squeezing Midoriya’s hips, who let out a loud shriek, followed by a flood of loud laughter.

“Waahahahahait Todoroki! Nohohohoho, not there!” Midoriya whined, swatting at Todoroki’s hands. Todoroki merely grinned down at Midoriya and continued to tickle him.

“You asked for it, and I’m only gonna stop when you ask,” Todoroki explained simply, drilling his fingers into Midoriya’s hip bone. Midoriya let out a loud yelp.

“AHAHAHAhahahahahaha, nooo!” Midoriya screamed, squirming violently as Todoroki mercilessly tickled one of his worst spots.

“Does it tickle bad here? Want me to change spots?” Todoroki asked, slowing his pace as Midoriya giggled breathlessly.

“P-Please,” 

Todoroki nodded, lifting up Midoriya’s thin T-shirt he was wearing.

“Wh- huh?!” Midoriya gasped, not expecting that to happen. Before he could say anything else, however, Todoroki’s hands descended upon his tummy once more, Todoroki using his nails to scratch gently at Midoriya’s sensitive skin, driving him very quickly up the wall as he arched his back, screaming with laughter.

“NAHAHAHAhahaha!! T-Tohohohohodorokii!” Midoriya managed to gasp out through his mad cackles, twisting from side to side as Todoroki had one hand drum up Midoriya’s ribs while the other went under his unprotected arm.

Midoriya felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, he felt like he’d need to ask Todoroki to stop soon if he didn’t want to pee himself, but at the same time… he felt like he didn’t want this to stop. It was nice being this close to Todoroki, he didn’t feel flustered or embarrassed and, even though he was being tickled to death, it still made him feel more comfortable around him. 

He was so caught up in his own thoughts and the sensations overwhelming his body, Midoriya didn’t notice Todoroki lower his head towards his tummy until it was too late.

Pbft!

Midoriya screamed, pushing at Todoroki’s head as he continued to blow raspberries all over Midoriya’s tummy, hands still working right at his lower ribs. Midoriya felt tears finally trickle out of his eyes as he desperately gasped out.

“STOHOHOP!! Plehehease no mohohohohohore!”

As soon as those words were spoken, Todoroki lifted his head up, along with his hands, as Midoriya greedily gulped in as much air as he could, thankful that he could finally breathe normally again.

“Did I go too far?” Todoroki asked innocently, tilting his head to the side a bit. Midoriya shook his head.

“No, noho you didn’t… ah that actually helped a lot, thank you…” Midoriya muttered, blushing slightly, partially from the tickle attack he still hadn’t recovered from.

Todoroki smiled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Midoriya’s temple. Midoriya flushed, pulling away slightly, but then he laughed slightly.

“I didn’t feel as embarrassed that time!” He said proudly, Todoroki chuckling.

“I guess I’ll have to tickle you a lot from now on then,” He said, raising his hands again.

“Wait, I’m not embarrassed right now, wahahahahait!”

[patandpran]

For the First Time - An Ohmfong fic

Written to fill my recent anon’s request for a fluffy first date fic for OhmxFong. You get 2200 words of just that! I hope you enjoy! 

Summary: Fong and Ohm are on a first date together, neither really know what to do with themselves. Fluffiness, softness and some wine drinking ensues.

With the interview that just came out, it seemed like the right time to post this...

Ohm had tried on about five different outfits already and none of them seemed right. He tugged at the bottom of the collared shirt he was currently wearing and studied himself in the mirror. It was one of those moments where nothing in his wardrobe was fitting like he wanted it to and none of the outfits were right for the occasion.

A first date with Fong.

He could not even believe those words could make a real sentence but, somehow, it had turned into his reality. There was a part of Ohm that worried that he was going to show up for the date and their entire group of friends would show up instead to mock Ohm for thinking that Fong had actually asked him out on a real date.

That was the most difficult part to navigate: Fong had asked him out.

Until the invitation had passed through Fong’s lips, Ohm had assumed that his best friend was still hung up on Tine but Fong had quickly clarified by saying, “In case you haven’t noticed, I like you, Ohm. We basically spend all of our time together anyway so… if you’re okay with it, I’d like us to go out on a proper date.”

Ohm felt a bead of nervous sweat fall from his forehead and quickly mopped it up with a t-shirt he had already discarded on his bed. He only had a few minutes before he had to leave to meet up with Fong so it looked like he was going to have to go with the collared shirt he had on. It wasn’t perfect but he looked presentable enough to be seen in public.

With his heart racing at a mile a minute, Ohm raked a hand through his hair on last time and nodded at his reflection. He could do this. With that, he set off to meet Fong.

++++++

When Ohm spotted Fong standing outside of the restaurant, the ground beneath his feet felt like it somehow disappeared. He had to work hard to keep his balance as he looked at Fong who was wearing a button-down and dark jeans. Fong had styled his hair loosely in the way that haunted Ohm’s dreams and made his knees weak but the part that truly got to Ohm was the single red rose that Fong grasped between his hands as he looked around nervously.

Fong spotted Ohm and Fong broke into a grin as Ohm approached him, “Hey! You’re here.”

“Did you think I wasn’t going to show up or something?” Ohm asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure.” Fong responded shyly and he abruptly offered the flower to Ohm. “I, um, got this for you.”

Ohm accepted the rose and held it to his chest in a gesture he hoped showed his appreciation, “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I should have got something for you too…”

“I asked you out.” Fong blurted out anxiously. “I’m the one who has to treat you, not the other way around.”

Ohm chuckled softly. He had never seen Fong so spastic before. It was completely adorable and made Ohm thankful that he wasn’t the only one nervous about this new step in their relationship. It seemed like they were stepping off a bit of a cliff but, at the very least, they were doing it together.

“Well, I feel treated already.” Ohm answered and was surprised to see a blush spread across Fong’s nose. Ohm felt his own face heat up in reaction so he continued, “Um, should we go inside then?”

“Good idea.” Fong nodded and started off toward the entrance of the restaurant and Ohm followed after him.

They were quickly sat at a table near the window and two menus were set in front of them. They both studied them silently before Fong prompted, “Order whatever you want. It’s a special night.”

Ohm knew that they both were on a student’s budget and with the prices on the menu, Fong was going to be set back by the meal for a few weeks. Ohm chewed his lip before sharing, “You don’t have to do that. It’s the twenty first century, we can split the bill.”

“Ohm.” Fong stated plainly, a serious look appearing on his face. “Please just let me do this. It means a lot to me.”

Ohm’s breath hitched slightly but he nodded, “Okay, well. Why don’t you order for us because I am completely lost. Everything looks amazing.”

Fong relaxed and a small smile appeared on his lips as he closed his menu, “I can do that.”

The server approached them and Ohm watched as Fong expertly ordered an array of different items and topped it off with a bottle of wine for them to share. Ohm was surprised by this so when the server left he asked Fong, “Since when do you drink wine?”

“I don’t know!” Fong muttered and his eyes dropped shyly to the silverware. “It seemed like the romantic thing to do…”

Ohm saw that Fong seemed to be still be on high alert and in his ‘overthinking mode’ so Ohm reached a hand across the table to grasp Fong’s. He laced their fingers together and squeezed gently in a way that he hoped translated as reassuring, “It’s just me, Fong. You don’t have to try so hard, as much as I appreciate it. I already like you more than you could possibly know…”

Fong’s eyes met Ohm’s and in them was such raw vulnerability that it practically broke Ohm’s heart. Ohm wondered if Fong knew just how much he meant to Ohm and Ohm vowed to himself to remind Fong as often as possible about the gravity of his feelings.

“I worried that you only said yes to the date because you were being your typical kind self.” Fong explained and his voice wavered slightly. “So it’s kind of amazing to hear that I’m not the only one who wants this.”

“God, who knew how sappy we could both be?” Ohm expressed and laughed at the thought. “If Tine and Phuak were here, we’d never hear the end of it.”

“Way to ruin the moment bringing up those two idiots.” Fong rolled his eyes as the wine and first course of food arrived.

Ohm’s mouth began to water as he looked at the delicious food in front of them. The server poured them both a glass of the wine before leaving them to enjoy the first round of their meal. Ohm went to reach for his wine glass before realizing that he and Fong’s hands were still intertwined.

“Oops.” Ohm mumbled before pulling his hand away from Fong’s who immediately pouted at the separation. Ohm noticed this and teased, “We can’t possibly spend the whole dinner holding hands, Fong.”

“That is a challenge I am willing to take on.” Fong retorted before raising his glass to meet Ohm’s for a ‘Cheers’. “What should we toast to?”

“Trying new things?” Ohm suggested and Fong nodded in agreement as they clinked their glasses together.

They both made eye contact before taking their first sips of the wine. Fong immediately made a disgusted face before setting down the glass, “That is… not my favourite.”

“I don’t actually mind it.” Ohm shrugged, taking another sip of the wine as Fong watched in horror.

Fong wrinkled his nose and tried to take another swing but was just as grossed out as the first time he drank it. Ohm watched in amusement as Fong tortured himself. Ohm shared, “You’re not supposed to chug wine, Fong.”

“It’s the only way I’m going to be able to get it down.” Fong winced as he swallowed another gulp of it.

“Slow down, there.” Ohm reached over and pulled the nearly empty glass out of Fong’s reach. “The last thing I want is a messy drunk Fong as a date.”

“Okay. Okay.” Fong obeyed and they started to pick away at the meals. Fong deciding that the food was much more delicious than the beverage he had ordered.

“How did you find this place?” Ohm wondered as he finished off another scrumptious bite.

“I googled all your favourite food and this is the first thing that came up.” Fong answered as they finished off another plate.

As the empty plates were cleared and a second round of mains replaced them, Ohm looked at Fong warmly, “You really thought of everything, didn’t you?”

Fong couldn’t help but grin in satisfaction at Ohm’s reaction to his attention to detail. He had wanted everything to be perfect for their first date so he was delighted that Ohm was picking up on all the effort he had put in.

Ohm dug into the second round and they ate in a comfortable silence for a while. That was the best part of this whole arrangement, despite how their relationship had shifted, they still had such an established basis already that they could just be themselves with the added extra layer of a new element to their connection.

“I forgot to say earlier…” Ohm started and wiped his hands with a napkin as he finished off his meal. “You look great tonight.”

Fong looked down at his outfit self-consciously and admitted, “Thank you…You have no idea how many different outfits I tried on before I settled on this one… it’s kind of embarrassing actually.”

“I did the same! Seriously, what is wrong with us?” Ohm blurted out and the two best friends burst into a fit of shared laughter at how ridiculous they both were.

“But you always look amazing.” Fong shared as the server set down a shared dessert between the two of them.

It was Ohm’s turn to blush fiercely. He could not believe that he and Fong had kept such thoughts as secrets from one another when they both shared the same feeling for their best friend. It seemed like such a loss, such wasted time but Ohm did not want to think that way; he was more than happy they had found the way to be open about the way they felt for each other, even if it took a bit longer than expected.

“I mean it.” Fong assured Ohm when he did not respond quickly.

“No, I know you do.” Ohm clarified and smiled across the table at his best friend who he adored more than anything. “I just… can’t believe we’re here like this right now… I’m… so happy.”

“Me too.” Fong agreed and picked up his spoon to grab a scoop of the ice cream that was quickly melting before them. Ohm moved to pick up his own spoon but Fong put his free hand upon Ohm’s and said, “Let me.”

Fong scooped up some ice cream and held the spoon in front of Ohm’s mouth as an offering. Ohm beamed at Fong before taking a bite and then Fong used the same spoon to take a taste of his own.

Ohm and Fong spent the rest of the meal basking in each other’s company. The server put the cheque on the table and offered to bring them a cork for the wink as it seemed like neither of them were going to finish it which inspired a round of shared giggles between Fong and Ohm. As requested, Fong paid for the bill but Ohm insisted on covering the next one which Fong agreed to. It seemed like a fair trade-off.

Fong walked Ohm out to his car and just as Fong was about to say something, Ohm blurted out, “Tonight was amazing. I can’t thank you enough. I just… I am so glad that we were able to do this together.”

“You make it sound like it’s not going to happen again.” Fong suddenly became a bit self-conscious and kicked at the gravel near Ohm’s car.

“Fong.” Ohm took Fong’s hands in his and squeezed them gently. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. I can’t wait until we get to go out again. Next time it’s my turn to plan the date though, okay?”

Fong looked up at Ohm and flashed a relieved smile, “Sounds like a plan.”

They stood there facing each other for a long moment, just looking at each other and taking in the atmosphere of the next step in their relationship. Neither could believe they were standing across from each other in such a way.

“Ohm…” Fong murmured and cast his gaze shyly to the ground before daring himself to look back at Ohm again. Ohm’s breath hitched before Fong continued, “Can I kiss you?”

“If you didn’t ask, I was going to.” Ohm responded without a beat and leaned down to press his lips to Fong’s.

Both Ohm and Fong were instantly lost in the kiss, both of them wishing it could last but knowing it would inevitably have to end at some point. Ohm questioned why they had never done this before and why he had not had the courage ages ago to pull his gorgeous friend into a kiss. But living with regret was useless so he banished the thought as quickly as he could and focused on the present reality that he was kissing Fong and Fong was kissing him.

For the first time, they were exactly where they both wanted to be: in the other’s arms, showing one another just how much love was shared between them.

[agent-cupcake]

Anon asked for prompt 22 with Hubert 

the read more isn’t working so here we are. thanks Tumblr, you’re Gucci af

22. “I’d never hurt you. Not unless you forced me to.” 

The dark parted, pain slipping through in an agonizing stream. Thunderous hooves pounding against the ground, inside your head. Skin sliced apart, all of the insides slopping out onto the outsides. But then the rain engulfed you, ice freezing so cold it burned. You wanted to scream, but when you opened your mouth, water filled your lungs. And it was too much. You drowned.

Life had taught you to be mischievous and curious, to smile through the gloom if only to prove you could. You were the weird one, the strange one. Even at the academy, you never truly became a fighter. It simply wasn’t your nature. But that didn’t matter in the end. Survival became more important than living the day the Empire declared a terrible and bloody war against the Church of Seiros. And so you became something else, someone else. And now that person was broken, shattered into tiny shards of porcelain and scattered far and wide across the Tailtean Plains.

Goddess save you, it hurt. Everything, everywhere it hurt. Punishment, surely, because living through calamity was grotesque, unnatural. You should have died, but you had not. Consciousness wavered in and out. At some point, you opened your eyes to the smeary world around you. Faces flashed across your vision, voices echoed and rang in your ears. You tried to speak, but your tongue was swollen and numb and there was no air. Each labored breath was a stab of pain. There was movement beneath you, around you. Jolting, jostling. Onward, forward. The nauseating scent of the battlefield stuck in your nose, the movement of your world twisting your insides. Vomit choked you. The rain washed over you anew.

Clouds broke to give a reprieve from the oppressive rain, but there was no clarity. You couldn’t understand. The pain was less intense now, but you couldn’t help but whimper, uncomfortable to the very marrow of your bones. A new face appeared. An awful, bitter liquid filled your mouth, giving you no choice but to swallow. In turn, you were swallowed by the sharp maw of darkness.

The world had stopped moving. Your surroundings had changed. The world had finally settled. And through the daze of the drugs they forced you to swallow, you remembered. Your friends were dead. Lost to you. The strength and bravery you had so desperately clung to were lost. In a ragged and hoarse voice, you begged for death. It filled the small, stone cell. You thrashed about so violently that you had to be tied down to the bed lest you injure yourself further. And still, they forced medicine, food, water, and treatment upon you.

Swimming in the daze of herbs administered for pain management and to keep you docile, you wept. Drowning in your tears, hours and hours spent mourning for the country you’d lost and the friends who died while you inexplicably were kept alive.

You couldn’t understand.

But, eventually, when you could cry no more, you realized that you had to try.

So you fought the dark and the monsters that lived there, refusing to give in to the sleep you knew would bring nightmares. The tears had gone, your hitching sobs faded into painful hiccups. The pain was the ache of healing ribs, as it turned out. The crying and thrashing had done little to help.

There, in the dark, you focused. Glazed eyes fixed upon the stone ceiling, sluggish mind moving through memories and thoughts, testing each one to check for value. The sandstone above you was marked with a map of cracks. Your lips moved with whispered words as you attempted to compile some understanding of all that had happened. The whole room was cold stone, indifferent to your pain. Your head ached, but you forced yourself to think.

“I heard them say it,” you muttered, your voice quiet to avoid putting too much pressure on your ribs. “The battle at the Tailtean Plains was a complete loss for the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus. For us. King Dimitri is... He’s dead. They’re all dead.” The lack of passion in your voice scared you, but it wasn’t unearned. You had tried to verbalize the reality of everyone’s death a dozen or so times now, each attempt ending in tears.

“But I’m not dead.” Not for a lack of trying, though. Towards the very end, a sword had slashed a gaping wound into your side. You could recall fragments of that moment. Shock, terror. The fall was missing from your memory, but you remembered the agony of hitting the ground. As the dark invited you, the rain cutting beneath your skin and running your blood pink, there was a voice, a set of hands. Someone you clung onto in those final moments. And the call of the abyss.

“The Imperial army spared me,” you said. “I… Don’t know why. The cut was fixed, but there were too many other wounded soldiers to heal me completely.” It wasn’t worth mentioning that your captors probably didn’t want you to be healed, either. An injured, drugged prisoner was a bit more convenient. “Now we’re in Enbarr,” you continued. “I’ve never been to Enbarr. I always hoped I’d get to come and see the opera, Professor Manuela made it sound so...” Your whispers died off with that thought, chapped lips relaxing into a part to make way for your wheezing breaths. It was too much to think of things like that, lost memories from when your life was normal and made sense.

You didn’t want to sleep, but the sudden exhaustion was too much to bear and the sound of rain was pulsing, pounding, undeniable, inescapable.

It was light again, the sun shining outside the tiny slit window of your cell. The priest who visited you on what you assumed to be a daily basis was a stern man with exhausted eyes. He gave you no name and did not as for yours, all the while stoically ignoring all of your questions. Each day he checked on you, he reapplied the Silence that kept your only weapon unusable. There was a servant who managed the lamps, gave you food, and switched out the chamberpot, but she did so without so much as a single word to you. She had never so much as given you a glance. With such intense isolation, it was no wonder you’d begun speaking to yourself so frequently. You worried that if you didn’t, you’d forget how to.

Light, then dark. Another visit from the taciturn Priest. With treatment, your wounds were healing nicely. They no longer plied you with sleeping powders or potions. As badly as you had wished for it before, recovery and control over your own mind was a double edge sword. On the one hand, you were glad. On the other, you feared what would happen now that you were more or less whole. Any day now, your captives would make their intentions for your rescue clear and you didn’t hold out much hope that it was altruistic in nature. They’d question you, maybe. Possibly torture you. You knew many things you shouldn’t, after all. If you were being completely honest, you knew that you would break quite easily under the threat of pain. Your life had never taught you to be strong, and even small pains made your eyes well up with tears. After the questioning, they would kill you. That was the only logical conclusion. There was nothing they could ever do to make you accept Edelgard as your ruler. You could never, ever forgive any of them for what they had done. You’d be a loose end.

Cowardice struck deep and icy into your spine whenever your thoughts began to spiral in that direction. Not tears of mourning, but of self-pity. Pathetically, all you could linger on was that you didn’t want this to happen, any of it. All you had ever wanted was to be with your friends. See the opera in Enbarr, visit the Alliance’s famed capital, and help King Dimitri rebuild Faerghus with all your friends. It wasn’t fair. Why weren’t you dead? Why you and not them? Why did Emperor Edelgard declare war? You knew so many things but understood so little.

But the world didn’t stop for your ignorance.

Minutes. Hours. Days. You had no idea how much time passed between the Priest’s visits. The sound of the door to your cell being unlocked yanked you from a hazy half-sleep. It was expected, and you weren’t entirely awake as you turned on your thin bed to sit up –a motion that still brought alarming amounts of pain to your damaged midsection– and smoothed your hair as a nod to manners you to whom you owed no tribute. You considered what you might say to the Priest, if you would try jokes or threats or anything to distract you from reality and make you feel more human. He had never responded, but you tried anyway. To remind yourself, maybe, of what you were. Or for some easy entertainment. Today you’d go with a joke, you could think of a really good joke, surely-

Those thoughts dissipated like mist burned away by the sun when you recognized the man who entered your cell. Hubert had changed, but not so much that you could be confused as to his identity. The shock of change was the first thing you noticed once the jarring jolt of seeing him enter your cell abated somewhat, the thing your mind grasped onto dearly to keep from panicking. Hubert von Vestra, Emperor Edelgard’s intimidating shadow. Not much of a shadow now, towering over your sitting form with an unreadable look of consideration on his face.

Fear and anxiety threatened to overtake you when you met his stare, but you combatted it with sheer disbelief. You knew quite a bit about Hubert. As far as particular points of intrigue, he was practically a gold mine of secrets and mystery. If that weren’t enough, Hubert was also tied to many of the most fascinating secrets you’d uncovered. You made it a point to keep up with spies and informants that dealt in information about the man in specific. A hobby of yours.

Unfortunately, you knew very little about who had become as a person. None of the reports spoke of the things you couldn’t help but notice now. Hubert retained that aura of malice you remembered, but his manner of presentation had changed dramatically. Not merely the hair and the clothes, or the whetstone of time that sharpened his cutting bone structure into something lethal, but some fundamental piece of his identity. Gone was the borderline awkward line of his stiff shoulders and self-important smirk, replaced by something more natural. Hubert’s posture and expression now belonged to him entirely, worn with all the comfort of a favored coat. Although he had been technically an adult even during the academy days, the person you saw now was a man. Odd how that distinction mattered. Odd how it made your skin crawl, want to scramble off the bed to ease the height disparity and attempt to gain some sort of upper hand.

Five years ago you hadn’t felt afraid of Hubert in the least. But, five years ago you hadn’t been a prisoner of war facing the victor from a position of battered powerlessness. Five years ago you had been an awkward teenage girl who chased secrets without knowing the inherent danger of finding things people would prefer to keep hidden. Five years ago you hadn’t been overpoweringly aware that you were helpless beneath his imposing, masculine presence. Now you understood, and so it was only rational for you to feel afraid.

“I’m glad to see you looking so well, I feared you wouldn’t make it the last time we parted,” Hubert said with a poisonous warmth, sitting on the only other piece of furniture in the cell beside the bed –a chair that the surgeon usually occupied. Like the bed, it was bolted to the floor. As if you were any great combatant. Even if you weren’t injured, the permanent state of Silence imposed on you would have rendered any and all of your combat strength null.

Words jumped to your tongue, but you tempered them. This interaction was not to be taken lightly. So you measured Hubert. The immediate response was to ask him if he was the one to save you, given that the last time you remembered meeting him was five years ago. You couldn’t remember anything following the battle on the plains, especially not him, but after a second you decided that was redundant as the affirmative was the only logical conclusion. Then you considered demanding to know why he had saved you and why you were here, but feared that your fear and weakness would leak through those words.

In your most intimate mind, past the uneasy calm you clung to, you longed to express fire hot rage and claw his eyes out, to damn the consequences and attack him with all your meager strength for what he had done. It wasn’t like you to do that, but maybe just this once you could be that person. It was what he deserved, what your friends deserved.

But you didn’t. Worse, you feared you couldn’t, that your strength would fail you and you’d only be reminded once more of the weakness you had never been able to kick. Instead, you found yourself without a single word to greet a man you hadn’t seen in over five years, your eyes glassy as wrath turned to despairing slush in your veins. Seeing him reminded you of all you had lost. Reminded you of the last time you had seen him, standing against his Imperial troops in defending the monastery. That battle had been the last with all of your friends. They were all dead or traitors now. Thinking of it was like tugging open the ragged skin of an open wound, making you physically recoil away. Weakness, too weak. You did your best to shove those thoughts from your mind, to steady your breathing.

Hubert studied you a moment longer, continuing to wait for you to respond. Finally, he scoffed, a sound at odds with the slight smirk on his face. “Not even a thanks?” he asked. “Well, you always were unforgivably rude. Constantly watching Lady Edelgard and asking questions about things you had no business knowing. I considered killing you a dozen times, you know.”

“How flattering,” you responded, or tried to. The words were meant to be cheeky, to show you weren’t afraid, but your voice was shaking and hoarse from disuse and got garbled up before they even left your mouth. Instead, they set you coughing, a reaction that struck your bandaged ribs and stomach with about as much tenderness as a hammer and stole away any of the power you’d tried to claim. Either the pain or the coughing set your eyes to watering and face flushing red hot, head and chest aching fiercely when you pulled in a final wheezing gasp. The cup of water on the floor at the side of your bed was stale, but welcome in the way it soothed your ragged throat. “How flattering,” you tried again when you had a grip on yourself, grinding the words out to keep them steady.

“Flattering? Hardly. You were an annoyance, nothing more than a pest I considered for extermination,” Hubert said, doing one of the last things you’d expect and passing you a plain white handkerchief with a look of half-concealed disdain. You accepted after only a second of considering your options and, deciding that it was more embarrassing to look a mess than to take his charity, used it to mop up your face. Whatever the small act of kindness meant, you were in no position to turn it down.

That justification didn’t ease the discomfort of the way he smirked at your easy acceptance, watching you in a way you found nearly unbearable. Hubert was smart, smarter than you, maybe. Where you were a hobbyist, he was a professional. Not with people, but with the deconstruction of them.  

“Unfortunately, it seems that inviting the ire of those more powerful than yourself wasn’t a habit you managed to rid yourself of,” Hubert continued. He spoke in a tantalizing way, inviting you to ask questions, to give into the blunt shock factor he was trying to encourage. Part of you wanted to give in –those words really did pique your curiosity. You had always been interested in knowing the things you shouldn’t. It was probably the most valuable attribute you’d brought to the war. But you weren’t quite so reckless as you had once been and the other part of your mind just wanted to ask him to say what he wanted outright, annoyed with the pointless posturing.

Unfortunately, you were too afraid of your voice cracking to do either. Hubert waited for you, but it was a fruitless pause, each ticking second wearing away at your raw nerves. He sighed in annoyance when you didn’t rise to the bait which was, in its own way, a bit of a victory.

“You see, before the battle, I was asked to ensure your death. A request on behalf of someone quite important,” Hubert began to explain. “Doesn’t that strike you as odd? You’re laughably unimportant, even among those defending the Church. I understand it as necessary to see to the death of all the kingdom patriots, but why name you in particular?” Hubert waited again as if for an answer, but the gleam in his eyes indicated that it was merely a pause to watch your reaction. His smile was sharp, eyes flashing. “So I began looking into you, wondering if you were the same annoyingly meddlesome girl I remembered from the academy who stuck her nose into things she really ought to have left alone. You’re smarter than you were, but I managed to find evidence of your nosing in the most… Unwanted of places.”

Your heart sank, stomach twisting and sloshing with the water you’d just downed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said flatly, despondently.

“You can’t lie to me. I’ve been keeping an eye on you for a while. Once we reclaimed the Kingdom capital, it wasn’t difficult to find your notes.” You tensed up, thinking of all the information you’d compiled. So caught up your own tragedy, you’d nearly forgotten. “You needn’t worry, I managed to keep them away from any prying eyes. Although, after studying them for a bit, I think I can understand why they would want you dead. The shadowy cabal you write about, that you’ve taken so much effort to document and study. Those Who Slither in the Dark.”

Your breath caught. The name made you flinch away, such a stupid reaction. Words couldn’t hurt you and yet these ones… They laid heavy in their air. Those Who Slither in the Dark. You had known they were working with the Empire, but hadn’t believed they’d be entrenched in the very heart of the Imperial crown. It made sense, in a way. A sickly, horrifying sort of sense. Hubert was working through them, for them, and they wouldn’t spare you. That was all you could think. Compared to their other crimes, the torture of a single individual wasn’t even that bad. All things being equal, it was practically a mercy. Hubert’s eyes didn’t stop gleaming, flashing, devouring your expressions as they flittered across your face.

“Your friends didn’t believe you about them. Nobody did. They never so much as attempted to understand you, let alone believe what you were saying,” Hubert sounded gleeful in reminding you of that fact. You had no idea how he could have possibly known that, but it hurt too badly to ask. Of course your friends hadn’t believed you, there were far more pressing issues to be dealt with. Only Rhea had given any indication that she knew of who you spoke. But her warpath was waging in one direction, and she didn’t care to consider your conspiracy. Of course, of course-

“They didn’t know,” you said, hating the weak tremor of your voice. You had to be stronger, to redirect the conversation. “But you… Your emperor… You’re are working with them.” Emotion bled into your tone, and you didn’t bother trying to hide it. It was a stronger feeling, anger. His emperor was the one who had lead the deadly assault on your country and kinsmen. Your king, your friends, dead at her orders. Commands supported by those shadowy fiends and their horrifying tactics. Your friends had no reason to believe you about Those Who Slither in the Dark, but there was no way Hubert didn’t know fully what they were and what they had done.

“Using them,” Hubert clarified lightly, clearly unphased by your accusation.

“You used them to destroy Arianrhod?” you asked Hubert. “No survivors. Civilians, soldiers, women, and children all taken out in fell swoop… Emperor Edelgard can only rule when the land has been scorched into submission, is that it?”

A controlled flash of dangerous anger, purified violent intent, crossed his face. “You forget your place,” Hubert said, his voice curling with deadly promise. “Speak of Her Majesty in such a disrespectful manner again and I’ll have your tongue.”

You shied away from him on instinct, flushing with fear. You really had forgotten your place, your circumstances. There was nothing in Hubert’s expression or voice to indicate that he wasn’t willing to follow through with that threat, and you could do nothing to stop him. Defiance was so easy until you remembered the consequences.

“I’m sorry,” you said, speaking without even thinking about it, anything to spare yourself, to soothe the familiar flare of hot tempers.

Hubert looked somewhat surprised by the apology, but that quickly became a smile. “It’s difficult to believe you are the woman he was worried about, so easily giving in to such an inconsequential threat. Truthfully, I expected a bit more fight,” he said. Your shoulders curled inwards as you avoided Hubert’s eyes out of embarrassment, scorning yourself a hundred times over and hoping you never found out what he would consider a consequential threat. Seemingly bored of your silence, he moved on with a more business-like tone, “To answer your question, allow me to ask you this. Did you approve of everything the church did? Or did you see their help merely as a means to an end, a way to defeat the Empire and potentially use in rebuilding Faerghus.”

The question threw you off once more, making you frown. Hubert would understand that type of thinking, you’d seen him employ it a dozen times over with the dubious types he would hire to enact some of his missions. It was practical. Then you thought of Lady Rhea, her rage. Her terrifying, unholy rage. You couldn’t help but shiver. And then there was the matter of their sin, a well-documented lie they hid from the world, banning innovation and information. The Church was corrupt in a deep-seated way, rotten down to its roots. You could understand the argument Hubert was making, it was only logical.

You shook your head in denial of that understanding. “That’s a false equivalence,” you protested. “The Church might have been bad, but the people you’re working with are… Malice incarnate. How could you even think to use them? The pain they caused, the unspeakable things they’ve done.” You let out a breath, focusing on the pain of your ribs to try and avoid getting emotional again. “I just don’t understand.”

“Fortunately, I don’t require your comprehension of such decisions,” Hubert said dismissively, doing nothing to hide his patronizing tone. “Now that the Empire has taken out the corrupt Church of Seiros, it is my duty to wage the shadowy war on Those Who Slither in the Dark. Due to their extreme reach and power, I cannot trust many to join me in this cause. Consider this a professional venture. Help me destroy Those Who Slither in the Dark. In return, I’ll allow you to live.”

“If I don’t?” you asked, an instinctual question. You knew the answer, of course you did.

“I’ll kill you,” Hubert said without pause. His posture was relaxed into the chair, his arms folded and head tilted slightly with a small twist of a smile on his face. Confidence radiated from the man. Curiosity, maybe, to see which path you would take.

You stared at him with parted lips and wide eyes, realizing once again that you were a coward. After waking up, bound and undergoing treatment sustained from trying to take on the Imperial Army, knowing you had lost the battle and everything you held dear, you had begged to be killed. That was the only honorable way of it, to die with your king and country. It’s what Hubert would do, what any of your friends would do.

And yet now that he offered it, death did not sound so appetizing after all.

“Does allowing me to live mean I’ll be free?” you asked, a hedging point for negotiation. You had no leg to stand on in the matter, but you felt as if you had to at least try.

“It means I won’t kill you,” Hubert reiterated bluntly. Meeting his eyes, shadowed by the poor lighting of the room yet soaking up every drop of the yellow spectrum light, you realized once more that you had no power here. He was asking for your aid, but you were not necessary. Convenient, if anything.

And you were a coward. An awful, terrible coward.

“Fine,” you said. For the greater good, you told yourself desperately. For the sake of those who died. For the sake of those who yet lived. To take down the biggest evil, the one King Dimitri was too blind to even consider might exist. Because you could escape, you could liberate Faerghus just as your friends wanted, as Loog did.

Because you didn’t want to die.

Hubert smiled. The smile of the grim reaper himself.

“I suspect you’re ready to be freed of this cage, then? We have an unimaginable amount of work ahead of us. Your wounds seem to be healing nicely.” Without warning, Hubert reached out, taking your chin in hand to tilt your face into the light. It must have been awful, a faded watercolor of bruises, but Hubert looked more intrigued than disgusted. The feeling of his gloved hand on your skin sent a shock through you, your muscles becoming tense and breath catching in fear. He noticed this, too. And it made him smile. “Are you scared of me?” Hubert asked, amused by the idea. “You shouldn’t worry. I’d never hurt you. Not unless you forced me to.”

[fandom-necromancer]

Alleycat

This was prompted by a lovely anon! I hope you like this even though I think you expected something else!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 | AU: Neko!Gavin (Warning: Heats)

The sirens were blaring all around him as he ran for his life. People jumped aside, only to flee or join his pursuers. He ran as fast as he could, skidding around corners, his bare feet plashing on the ground. He got more grip than his hunters on the smooth ground and added agility as well as speed on his side. He heard them falling back, but at no point that made him slow down. He burst through doors and crowds of people, before he finally reached the lobby, saw the light and was out.

He continued to run as if the lab-coats were still breathing at his neck as he ran over pavement and through streets, got honked at by angry people in large machines and pushed onwards. He didn’t allow himself to stop, he didn’t allow himself to rest, he just ran and ran and ran until his legs would give in.

-

Nines perked up as he heard a crash outside. It was a dark November evening, unusually warm. He walked over to the window of his second storey apartment and spied under the curtains of his kitchen window. Maybe some drunk human had crashed into a garbage bin? Maybe they needed help? He could at least get them a taxi. But while he looked out of the window nothing moved. Maybe just rats? Or a cat? Or some stray dog? His neighbourhood wasn’t the best and although androids got paid, it was still considerably less than a human would. He simply couldn’t afford a flat made for humans in a better environment and he really wanted to allow his human friends to visit. He watched the back alley a bit longer, then shrugged. His LED pinged blue in the window-reflection as he had finished his scan. Whatever it had been, it was either long gone or motionless. So, Nines decided to get back to the living room.

-

When Gavin woke up, it was with a jolt. He looked around; his ears arranged so he could locate the sound perfectly. Someone was coming. He wanted to run again, but his legs burned from yesterday’s exhaustion and wouldn’t obey him as he tried to stand up. The only thing left for him was to hide. He scooted backwards against the bin he had managed to get to with his last strength the day before and pulled his knees to his chest. He didn’t dare to breath as he could see the shadows of the legs under the bin. The person opened the large crate, then let it fall back down again, grumbling displeased. ‘Ah, fuck it’, he heard, before a bag of trash landed on his head. He jerked in surprise but thankfully managed to keep his mouth shut. Only as the person moved away, he dared to lift the smelly bag off of him. He swallowed, unsure what to do now. He looked down on himself, on his bare feet and thin blue shirt he had worn in the lab. If he wanted to survive out here and not be found by Cyberlife, he would have to blend in. Disgusted, he tore open the bag of trash that was mostly old takeout containers that immediately attracted the flies around him. But once he got rid of them, underneath he found something soft. He pulled it out. Baggy sweatpants with stains Gavin really didn’t want to know about, an old shirt, a beanie and an assortment of yellow, maybe once white, socks. Gavin grimaced and took trousers and the shirt. The oversized pants meant he could hide his tail and the beanie would mask his ears. He looked at himself in a puddle and nodded at himself looking back. Now he mostly looked like a homeless person and not like some escaped science experiment. He would stay here for now. No one had found him yet and he knew he would need all the rest he could get.

-

The last night hadn’t been the only night, Nines had heard strange noises from the back alley. There had been multiple occasions in the middle of the night, where bins were opened and closed. No one would hear the noises as it was always late at night and most people would either sleep or not really cared. But Nines did. He wanted to know what caused these strange noises and so, he watched from the window every day. On the third he finally got a glimpse at a person in rugged clothing. He sighed. So, it was just some poor guy searching for something to wear or eat. No drug dealers or other criminals. Nines could be relieved. He followed the person until they disappeared behind a wall. Then all movement ceased, and Nines assumed they slept.

The next night, as the noises started up again, Nines looked out of the window again as it was his daily habit by now. Only that this time it wasn’t the homeless person living in his back alley. This time it was multiple humans that looked like some sort of personal security. The were armed with torches and tasers. Nines’ LED dropped into red, as his scans picked up the hexagonal emblem on their chests. Cyberlife? Why here? Immediately, he readied himself to open the window and jump down to them in case someone needed his help. Cyberlife had promised to follow the new android rules, but they had also promised to hand over all un-deviated androids and here he was only after the DPD had freed him from their tower. He didn’t trust them even a bit. As they got closer to the wall Nines knew the person hid, he decided to intervene. He opened his window and shouted down: ‘Hey, people want to sleep! Would you mind shutting off the damn lights and stop making such a godforsaken ruckus? Rummage through trash somewhere else!’ The Cyberlife security shone their lights in his face and Nines took one of his kitchen knifes in return. That made them hurry out of the alley. ‘Yeah, you won’t find any androids to torture here!’, Nines shouted after them, then pulled the window close.

-

Gavin’s heart thumped in his chest. That had been far too close. They could have found him and take him again. He wasn’t safe here. Hadn’t it been for some annoyed asshole, he would have found himself back in that lab in no time. He knew he had to run and find a better place, but he felt that sickness creeping up again. He felt restless already and the hunger didn’t help. He knew the signs, knew what would happen. He had wished to have found a safe place by then, he couldn’t run around the city like this. He felt warm despite the ice-cold night and despite shivering all over. He was itchy and never found a comfortable position. He would enter another heat and this time there were no scientists “helping” him by pumping him full of hormones and chemicals. No, this time he was stuck in some back alley with only a wall to keep him from curious onlookers. He was ready to bet his luck on this place. Would they search a place again when they knew they weren’t welcome? Gavin had no idea. He already saw them taking advantage of his burned-out state and carry him back to that lab. No, no please-

‘Err… Excuse me?’

He flinched and looked up, eyes locked in fear with a huge android looking around the corner. ‘Hey, err… I saw Cyberlife looking for you and…’ The android pointed towards the beanie. ‘You know, I hate these guys too. I don’t know why they search for you, but if you need a place to crash, I could offer you a room. Would be dry and warm at least.’ Gavin swallowed and still looked up at the android frozen. ‘You don’t have to, of course, but I don’t really need the bedroom anyways, so…’ ‘I’m… I’m not an android’, Gavin whispered with a hoarse voice. ‘Well, an enemy of my enemy is my friend?’ Gavin was far too terrified, but his brain immediately supplied “awkward idiot”. ‘Listen, you want a warm place to sleep with a shower, yes or no?’ Gavin didn’t know what made him agree, but he nodded and took the android’s hand who helped him up.

-

‘It’s right up there’, Nines said, pointing at the window. ‘Not a lot of stairs.’ He didn’t know why he had offered the person to stay with him, but the decision made him awkwardly babble on. Maybe to ease his own mind?

Once he had opened the door and let the man in, he pointed out bathroom, bedroom and kitchen. ‘Do you want something to eat?’, he thought to ask then. ‘I don’t think I have anything here, but I could order something.’ The man just looked at him. Nines evaded his eyes. ‘I’ll get you a pizza.’ The man nodded and disappeared towards the bathroom. Nines waited and paid the delivery guy, then he sat on the couch and watched the bathroom door.

When the man finally emerged, he was shivering and shaking, looking every bit like he would fall the next second. Nines immediately was there to catch him and hold him upright. ‘You are burning up from the inside…’, Nines said, scanning the man shocked by the sudden change. He looked up, eyes glossed over. ‘I’m sorry. I… Can I use your bedroom for the next week? I don’t know how to repay you, but I need it. And… please. Don’t come in, okay?’ ‘Err… sure’, Nines said, before his mind could catch up and freak out. ‘Of course.’ That answer seemed to allow the man in his arms to relax. He suddenly felt like dead weight and Nines just acted on instinct. He carried the man to the bedroom and laid him on the bed with plenty of blankets and the pizza on the nightstand. The man seemed to be sleeping but far deeper than what would be normal. But Nines heeded his instructions and closed the door to the bedroom. What had he gotten himself into?

-

The next week was just a haze for Gavin. Food, clothes and fresh blankets as well as food appeared magically at the door. He slept through most of the days. And when he was awake, he was burning up. He was confused, crying and rutting against the mattress. He simply wasn’t himself. He was hurting.

Until one morning he woke up immensely tired and stiff but at least at full consciousness again. He got up, looking down on the clothes he wore now. They were fluffy and fit him perfectly. Shit. He had spent his heat at this weird android’s place and the thing had cared for him. Without barging in and triggering unbelievable things. And he was still free. He wasn’t back at the lab, there were no scientists swarming around him, prodding him and watching his every move.  He sighed deeply, before rising to his feet and walking towards the door.

‘Hey’, he greeted the android seated at the couch. ‘Err… thanks…’ ‘Are you alright?’, he asked, standing up. ‘I… You screamed a lot.’ ‘Did you come in?’ ‘No.’ Gavin nodded a few times. ‘What was that? And err… what exactly are you?’

Gavin grimaced and scratched behind his ear. Wait. His ear. Fuck. The android had seen them, right? ‘Don’t worry!’, Nines tried to calm him down immediately. ‘Whatever you are, I don’t care. I won’t tell Cyberlife!’ ‘They… err… I’m one of their new experiments. They didn’t want to keep up the android trade because… well, you are people.’ ‘You are too.’ ‘Yeah, well, I shouldn’t have been a person.’

‘I’m a Detective. Maybe I can help you.’ ‘I don’t think so. I would be your sole evidence and I don’t want that. Listen, I… I fled from them and I plan on running even further away. I… I had to spend the week because of my heat. Bastards engineered a hybrid and forgot that some biological traits might stick around… Anyways, I… I won’t bother you any longer, I am thankful for all that you did and… Yeah, I’ll be going then!’

‘Wait!’ Nines didn’t know what had come over him. ‘Err… sorry. But Cyberlife is very influential still. I don’t think you will be safe anywhere on the streets. You… you could stay. If you want, of course. I don’t really need the flat myself. I promise you; I won’t try anything.’ ‘And why should I trust you?’ ‘I hate Cyberlife, too? And you would be safe during your heats? I have money for food and everything you might need.’ Gavin remembered the android had lived up to his promise of not disturbing him. Sure, that had been one time. But if the android was sent by Cyberlife, why wait? He could have taken him back to the lab during the time he had been unresponsive. Still, trust was nothing to come easy. ‘Okay. I’ll stay. But only for a few days.

-

It was far more than just a few days. Once they had opened up to each other, they had learned they got along pretty well. Gavin had a sharp mind and Nines a large heart. With every passing day, Gavin was certain this was a safe place to stay and trusted the android more and more. Nines in turn learned he really liked the man. He enjoyed cooking for him, looking out for him and just talking for hours every night. It was… nice not to be alone.

It had been Gavin, who one evening simply curled up next to him, leaning into his side, his tail dangling over his legs. Nines had stayed completely still, thinking the man had fallen asleep. ‘Relax, tin-can’, Gavin surprised him by slurring the words. ‘You’re damn comfy.’ Nines, completely dumbfounded, looked down on the man and couldn’t help himself, but scratch in between his cat-ears. ‘Are you… purring?’ ‘Phck off, toaster!’ ‘I don’t believe this’, he laughed, but kept scratching.

‘Hey, Nines?’ ‘Yes Gavin?’, the android answered. ‘This might be weird, but… my next heat- Would you mind helping me out this time?’ ‘Oh. O-of course. I mean. If you want me to, sure.’ ‘Yeah, I want you to’, Gavin mumbled, pressing closer into Nines’ side, who held him in his arms. ‘Then I will.’

[breaniebree]

12, 13, 17, 19, 36, 59, 84 for new asks please!

Hi, Anon!

Thanks for asking! Love that there were so many!

12. Who is your favourite character to write for? Why?

Hmm... I think this changes depending on my mood. Lately it's been Tonks and Remus. I love writing their domestic bliss as well as Tonks being a badass Auror. I've been having fun with them. But usually I really love writing the Weasleys, particularly the brothers views on Ginny. I find them so fun, giving them each their own personality and Ron deserves so much love. He's just so awesome!

13. Who is your least favourite character to write for? Why?

Crouch. He's disturbing and disgusting, but that's how he appears to me and I can't change him or his gross ways. Also, I really hate writing from Draco's POV because I find him difficult and a bit of an enigma. I believe him to be an asshole, but very kind and attentive to those whom he deems worthy which makes him a contradiction to write sometimes.

17. Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

“Mum, we don’t know what happened. Everyone could be okay,” Ginny said, trying to keep her voice strong.

Molly merely held Ginny tighter as they stood there and waited for news.

19. Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?

Hmm... I feel like everything I've written has more or less been completed at the end. Though I suppose I would like to write more of my Missing Moments one-shots, but I just haven't been inspired to do so as I've been so busy with A Second Chance. I do sometimes feel like I will need a sequel to ASC just to cover after the war, but we'll see ❤️

36. Can you give us a spoiler for one of your WIP’s?

Hmm, lots of spoilers here LOL. Um, yes, I can, the line (which I gave you 3 of) is from the last chapter I completed. The bit I am currently working on...

...and a flash of purple before he found himself flying through the air.

He grunted as he landed on his side, his ears ringing. His hand moved to his head, finding blood and he coughed as the room began to come into focus once more.

Grey smoke filled the chamber as purple flames erupted from the left side of the room. He blinked in confusion as the purple human torch disintegrated with a bang and a second rumble shook the chamber. Marble and stone collapsed as the flames shot out like long tendrils, stretching to reach everything in sight.

59. Which character(s) do you find the most difficult to write?

Most difficult for me tends to be Luna. I love her and I love her quirkiness, but I always find writing her is hard. I'm always worried I don't get her tone right, or her personality, or I take her a step too far or not far enough. Whenever I have her in a scene, I find myself second guessing everything I write and it's rather stressful to be honest LOL.

84. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

An excerpt I'm particularly fond of... I think I've said it before that this changes a lot depending on my mood, but lately I think it's the opening of my story ASC

They were dead.

They were both dead and it was all his fault.

He didn’t cry. He had no tears left in him to cry. He didn’t rage; he’d spent weeks doing just that, slamming his fists into the stones until his knuckles had bled; until his fingers were broken, but the pain never fazed him. He ate mechanically as the healer fixed his hands and the next day, he’d punched the stone all over again and again trying to feel something … anything.

He screamed. He shouted that he was innocent. He threatened to kill his former best friend, his brother. But it was for nothing.

It was all for nothing.

He was the one who had been betrayed; the spy who wasn’t; he was guilty in the eyes of the world and nothing he could say was going to change that.

And no one was listening anyway.

At first he thought that at least he would come. His best friend; the one who he had trusted most outside of the one who was his blood brother. The one who he had kept secrets for; the one who was so thankful and confused as to why they even called him friend, called him brother in the first place.

But he never came.

He too thought he was guilty; that he was just like the family that he had tried so hard to run from.

The days turned into weeks which turned into months. He paced; he ran on the spot; he spent hours doing push-ups and sit-ups; contemplated making a noose with his thin shabby sheet and just ending it until the rage consumed him once more. He was not going to take his own life; not while he was out there, the truly guilty party. The spy. The one that he had once called friend and brother.

The months dragged into that first year and his thin hold on his own sanity started to slip away from him as he counted the days, digging the rock into the stone to tally his sentence.

On his twenty-third birthday, he spent the day in fitful dreams; memories of the woman that he had called mother holding her wand above him and telling him how worthless he was; how spineless and unworthy he was to be in the Most Ancient and Noble House. He relived the feel of the torture curse, seeing his mother holding the wand; relived the pain of the belt that his father struck across his back and when he heard his own screams echoing in the stone cell — he clawed at the stone until his nails bled.

By the second year, he forced himself to transform the moment the memories came to the surface. He forced himself to think of happy thoughts, but he couldn’t remember any. Had he ever been happy? He was innocent. It wasn’t a happy thought, but it wasn’t a miserable thought either so they couldn’t take it away from him. He hadn’t murdered those people, true. But could he really be considered innocent?

It was his fault that they were dead; his decision; his stupid mistake.

He was innocent.

He was guilty.

He was innocent.

He was guilty.

He paced the cell back and forth as far as the chains would allow him; back and forth, marking the days each morning when he woke. He slept as a dog; woke to eat the gruel that they called porridge; one hour of push-ups; one hour of sit-ups, keep the body disciplined, keep the mind sane, he told himself repeatedly. He’d nap as a dog; wake to eat the gruel that they called stew and as the first wave of unhappy memories would unfold into his system, he’d transform and whimper in the corner.

By the third year, he had his routine down to a science. No one spoke to him. The healer came to check on him once a month; let him wash with a bowl of lukewarm water and a clean cloth. The healer never spoke and the soul-sucking creatures hovered as the healer trembled, waiting for him to finish so that he could leave. The moment that the healer was gone, he became a dog once more.

When he started his count into year four, he knew that he would die alone in this very cell. No one would ever discover that his old friend had been the real one to betray them; the real one to trick those who cared for him.

No one would ever know his story.

“Sirius?”

The voice sounded foreign, almost too far away. He recognized the Scottish burr, but he couldn’t place it. No one had spoken to him in four years, six months, and seventeen days. Was that his name? His head pounded, but for the first time all day it was clear, telling him that the soul sucking creatures had distanced themselves, at least partially, from his cell.

“Sirius Black?”

The hesitation in the voice now got his attention and he realized that it wasn’t a memory; someone was actually speaking to him.

Someone was outside of his cell.

He moved towards the bars, long thin fingers gripping the iron and his grey eyes bruised around the edges meeting the square beady brown eyes that he recognized so well and his heart stopped at the sight of them.

“Minnie?” he whispered hoarsely, the old nickname slipping out before he consciously thought about it.

The brown eyes rolled in exaggeration at him and for the first time in four years, six months, and seventeen days — he felt a bubble of laughter rising in his throat.

“Sirius,” she said softly, reaching to hold his ice cold hands where they clutched the iron bars tightly. “You remember me? I was worried that I might have been too late. The healer said… never mind. You know me.”

He shook his head, clearing the cobwebs that lingered there. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “Why are you here, Professor?”

Her eyes looked sad as she gripped his hands tightly from where they were clutched around the bars. “I’m sorry that it took so long, Sirius, I’m so sorry, but you are finally getting a trial. A trial to prove your innocence.”

His dark grey eyes met hers in shock. “What?”

“I don’t believe for a moment that you betrayed James and Lily, Sirius. I never have. James was like a brother to you and you… you loved that little boy. You deserve a trial. Maybe if we can understand why you…”

Sirius snorted now, his fingers gripping hers as he realized what she was saying. “You believe that I murdered thirteen people in a crowded street, but I didn’t betray my best friends. Interesting view you have of me, Minnie, my dear.”

“Sirius,” she said again, her voice quiet and stern. “I believe that you are innocent and I have been campaigning for you to be set free from the moment that you were arrested. Finally, the Minister has taken heed of my words and agreed to give you the trial you should have been given years ago. It will be in three days time.”

Sirius squeezed her fingers gently. “I am innocent, Minnie. I would never have betrayed them, never!”

McGonagall nodded, smiling at him. “I know. I will see you in three days, Sirius. I’m rooting for you.”

As he watched her leave, he felt the darkness pressing in on him once again and he moved away from the bars, letting his back rest against the cool stone.

Four years, six months, seventeen days — but he was getting a trial.

Thanks for the asks!

[stark-tony]

anon asked for fics where peter is hurt in a spider-man related incident and i was an idiot and deleted it 

* = incomplete

Danger Pizza  by alice_in_ink

summary: The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom.  “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?”  He clambered through said window.  “Seems like a safety hazard.” 

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position.  “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen.  “Christ, kid.  It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying.  (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: none

Bad decisions and the art of teaching AI’s to lie. by wolfypuppypiles

summary: He knew that, logically, he should tell Tony, because he’d been told off a million times for hiding injuries, because stab wounds were dangerous, because he was fifteen and shouldn’t deal with those things on his own.

But on the other hand, he healed so fast that it would probably be gone by morning, and he really didn’t feel like getting stitched up again. Plus, Tony would lose his mind over it.  

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, humor, fluff

warnings: none

Ohana by wolfypuppypiles

summary: Maybe if Peter had known what it was like to have a big family he would have known that being babied by the Avengers meant that they loved him. Maybe he wouldn't have thought he needed to prove he was strong. Maybe he would have asked for help when he needed it.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Super Kid, Super Hearing by whumphoarder

summary: Peter takes a hit while on a mission with the Avengers and dislocates his knee. Tony suffers for it in more ways than one.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

blindness by iron_spider

summary: “Call—” He takes another hit and feels queasy, he’s freaking out, he can’t see. Pure darkness, he’s completely blind. He pulls himself backwards and he can still hear the guy breathing, his feet hitting the ground. “Call Mr. Stark, call him—” 

“Calling Tony Stark.”

Peter takes a hard kick to the stomach and now he really feels like he’s gonna throw up—he shoots a taser web, hears the guy yell out but then he’s getting kicked again and he can’t see, he can’t see, he has to get out of here—

“Peter?” Tony’s voice asks. “Peter, what’s up?”

“Help me!” Peter yells. “Help me, help, I can’t—this guy sprayed me with something and I can’t see, I can’t see—” He shoots the rapid fire webs and tries to scurry backwards.

“I’m coming,” Tony says. “I’m coming—I’ve got you, I’m close—”

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

topsy turvy by iron_spider

summary:  hey    omg that delivered    you’re right, Stark phones are far superior    or is it just this particular one you gave me 

  Tony stares at his phone as the messages come in, and he narrows his eyes. He shifts a little on the couch, glances at Pepper.

“What?” she asks, catching his eye. She looks down at his phone. “What did Peter do?”

“Do I have a Peter face?” Tony asks. “Peter in danger expression?”

“I don’t know,” Pepper says. “Is he in danger?”

Tony sighs. “I hope not, but I’m—I’m not optimistic.”

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

You're In My Veins (and I cannot get you out) by losingmymindtonight

summary: Peter and Tony get hit by an alien explosion that allows Peter to hear everything Tony is thinking about him. Fluff, whump, and sleepiness ensue.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

There's a hole in my head and my words are falling out by wolfypuppypiles

summary: Tony’s stomach clenched into a knot at the sudden cut off of Peters' voice because he hadn’t trailed off, no his word had been strangled before a groan and crash sounded from the other side of the door.

Steve jumped in fright at the crash and Tony’s stomach curled tighter at the heavy thump of something hitting the carpet. Something like Peter.

pairings:

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

For Want of a Dad (in need of a son) by  GhostInTheBAU

“So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?” Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject.  

He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks.  

The trip is during spring break—a four day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors.

But the real kicker?  

It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be.

Not again.

—————

Or:  Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement.

Because of Spider-Man.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

When we all fall asleep where do we go?*  by wolfypuppypiles

summary: His body lay there on the street, arm flung out to the side, palm streaked with blood. It seeped beneath him, soaking the sheet that someone had been decent enough to drape over him. 

Tony’s instincts told him to pull it away, that Peter couldn’t breathe with it on his face like that, but he knew it wasn’t true. Peter wasn’t breathing. Peter was dead.  

yeaaaaaah sorry. but if you know me you'll know how it ends

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings: none

For Pete's Sake! by KitCat992

summary: Maybe he’d feel better if he closed his eyes, just for a second. It was too dark to see anything clearly anyway, and he’d be able to concentrate better without seeing how fast the ground was coming up to meet him. 

A rush of wind sent goosebumps across his skin before two strong hands gripped his shoulders tightly, keeping him upright and from nose-diving straight into the alleyway cement.

Peter snapped his eyes open, blinking a couple times to clear his vision. Everything was blurry. Was that…?

“...ice cream man!?”

pairings: pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Dust and Blood by notapartytrick

summary: An alternate universe where Peter couldn't make it out of the warehouse on his own. 

AKA a way to vent my anger at Infinity War by torturing my baby boi even more :))))

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

how can the body die? (you tell me, everything) by madasthesea

summary: Tony felt panic creep up his spine. Something was occurring to him, slowly percolating in the back of his mind. 

“You said the stinger got you. Is Scorpion’s stinger venomous?”

“I don’t—” Peter cut off as he groaned, the muscles in his jaw tight. “I don’t know. He upgraded—he was faster. Bigger. I—I thought I could beat him.”

pairings: pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

to break in these bones by searchingforstars

summary: “We’re gonna go play baseball? I’m not exactly a great shot, and you might have to let me out of these first,” Peter rattles his wrists around in the metal chains and they clink together, echoing around the sparse room, “but sounds like fun.

“We’re not playing baseball.”

“Shame, because I passed a park on my way here and I’m pretty sure that there’s only been like, six murders there this year so that could have been a fun spot.”

“I’m going to enjoy this, you fucked up little kid.”

“Hey, I’m not a little-” Peter starts, but he’s cut off by all the air being knocked out of his lungs as he sees the bat raised in front of him.

--

or, Peter doesn't listen to Tony, pisses off someone dangerous and ends up on the wrong end of a baseball bat.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

keep me afloat in this cold world by searchingforstars

summary: Peter’s just fighting to stay awake at this point, though he can’t really remember why he’s trying to stay awake? Is someone coming for him? That would be nice, he thinks.

He just wants Tony. He was on a mission, right? He thinks so. Why isn’t Tony here? 

Peter’s teeth are chattering as he tries to force words out. He can barely move his lips. “K-K’ren? Mister St’rk? Call Mister St’rk. Pl’se?”

No reply. The faint static continues. Cold surrounds him.

--

or, Sam and Bucky bring Peter back to the tower verging on hypothermic and Tony is an Upset Dad™ about it.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

[fcarher]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all have witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

Mun Name: slug / ellie     Age: 19       Contact: IM, discord

Character(s) I rp: Yunaeisha Adynora, other demons from my lore Which muse(s) inspires you the most atm?(for MM): Yunaeisha Current Fandom(s): None really  Fandom(s) you have an AU for:  Naruto, PKMN, Magi, Gangsta, OPM, MHA, Hazbin Hotel & currently working on an ATLA verse My language(s): german, polish, italian, english   Themes I’m interested in for rp:   Fantasy / Science fiction / Horror / Western / Romance / Thriller / Mystery / Dystopia / Adventure / Modern / Erotic / Crime / Mythology / Classic / History / Renaissance / Medieval / Ancient / War / Family / Politics / Religion / School / Adulthood / Childhood / Apocalyptic / Gods / Sport / Music / Science / Fights / Angst / Smut / Drama / etc. Themes/Genres you have an AU for: highschool, modern & fantasy/medieval

Preferred Thread length: one-liner / 1 para / 2 para / 3+ / novella. Asks can be send by: Mutuals / Non-Mutuals / Personals / Anons. Can Asks be continued?:   YES / NO   only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO. Preferred thread type: crack / casual nothing too deep / serious / deep as heck. Is realism / research important for you in certain themes?:   YES / NO. Are you atm open for new plots?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Do you handle your draft / ask - count well?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. How long do you usually take to reply?:  24h / 1 week / 2 weeks / 3+ / months / years. I’m okay with interacting: original characters / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / my fandom / crossovers / multi-muses / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / canon-divergent portrayals / au-versions (as main or only verse). Do you post more ic or occ?:  IC / OOC. Are you selective with following others?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

Best ways to approach you for rp/plotting: the best way is just to straight up approach me. most often than not, just liking a post is not enough because it’s too vague ?? like if i post an idea & you like that, i’ll still be hesitant when it comes to roleplaying or approaching you because, while i appreciate such gestures, i’m just too anxious. therefore, plopping into my IMs without a properly fleshed out idea is also fine ! it, at least, gives me the hint that you’re actively seeking interaction. however, just saying “i want to roleplay & plot !” won’t cut it; at least, have something in mind, please !

What expectations do you hold towards your plotting partner:  basic ideas & pouring their heart into plotting! i don’t mind waiting, at all, so if you’re busy, don’t worry about keeping me waiting; i completely understand since i’m also often busy with work or university. but !! please don’t only come to me with the statement: “i want to plot!” it’s not gonna cut it & it’s not gonna help with a proper interaction, at all. if i approach someone, most often than not, i have SOME sort of idea in mind. but yeah, being passionate is the most important thing!

When you notice the plotting is rather one-sided, what do you do?:  most often than not, the conversation will die down because i will loose motivation; i don’t like it because i’ll feel like a bother & i shouldn’t feel that way when it comes to a hobby! therefore, one-sided plotting is one of my deal breakers; i usually end the conversation & there will be little to no interaction happening. like i said; i don’t mind waiting, i just hate that feeling of coming on TOO strong when my plotting partner delivers no input. 

How do you usually plot with others, do you give input or leave most work towards your partner?:  often than not, i start off with rather simple question like; are you interested in a certain verse ? do you already have something in mind ? if not, i will go through their about page & ask them things about their character & how that could possibly bring our characters to interact. sometimes, the about pages of a muse cannot give you every single bit of information; muses grow & change with each thread, therefore, it’s often better to just ask the people about their characters ! & from then on, it often just comes naturally. 

When a partner drops the thread, do you wish to know?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if the thread is not THAT important or vital for our character’s relationship; i don’t mind & won’t need to know if the thread is dropped. sometimes, if it’s a heavily plotted thread & i’ve anticipated the interaction a lot; i’d appreciate a quick heads-up from my partner that they’re not feeling that certain thread any longer; i don’t mind that !! - What should your partner do when dropping a thread?: they don’t need to tell me; SOMETIMES, it’s just a nice gesture but most of the time, i don’t care, we can always start another thread !!

What could possibly lead you to drop a thread?:  many things can lead to me dropping a thread; just losing motivation, having no muse for a certain genre or simply having the feeling that my partner is not liking it, any longer (ex. extreme lack of trying to match the reply length ). my health & my schedule can also, sadly, affect my motivation, so, more often than not, i tend to drop shorter threads & keep longer ones.  - Will you tell your partner?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS.

Is communication in the rpc important to you?   YES / NO. - And why?:  i get anxious really fast if people stop replying for a very long time, out of the blue. it has happened to me once before with a good friend with whom i have no contact with any longer due to miscommunication & them not trying to communicate the issue with me; therefore, yes, it is very important. i wanna know if something is bothering you; i wanna know if you like something very much; i wanna know what’s up ! we’re humans & we’re adults; we can talk about this.  - Are you okay with absolute honesty, even if it may means hearing something negative about you and/or portrayal?:  yes ! as long as it is constructive criticism & not straight-up bashing my characters or lore; i’m all for it. i don’t mind hearing negative things; in fact, i appreciate the honesty & it gives me room to work on myself & my writing ! - Do you think you can handle such situation in a mature way?  YES / NO.

Why do you rp again, is there a goal?:  building relationships that LAST & exploring my muses through & through; it is amazing how much yuna has grown through interactions with others; how different she has become from the yuna i once started out with; it’s almost been a year now & it’s just amazing. however, i’m not stopping anytime soon; THERE IS SO MUCH MORE I WANT TO EXPLORE !! the ultimate goal is for me to just look at my blog & be completely proud of what i have accomplished & written; i want fleshed out relationships & threads; deep stuff !!

Wishlist, be it plots or scenarios:  yuna talking with someone about her struggles; mentally & physically. being open about her abusive father & how it has traumatized her & painted men in the worst picture one could imagine. HOWEVER; a hard thing because i don’t want these things to be pre-est or something; i want a thread where there is struggling, screams, conflict ! it is rather hard to find someone, though, who is willing & fitting to go onto that long journey with me & yuna. also, i’d love to write about darker stuff; i love fluff, though, sometimes i sure want a bit of that, too. 

Themes I won’t ever rp / explore:  the only things i won’t rp or explore are stated in my rules; ex. pedophilia, rape & really descriptive animal abuse. killing, torture, gore as well as cheating, heartbreak or toxic relationships are okay, while i do prefer to have a deeper bond with someone while exploring the latter & be communicating the whole time; i think these are really REAL topics & that’s why i wouldn’t mind exploring them because it does happen, more than one would like them to happen. however, if i see you, the mun, glorifying or romanticizing these; just no. 

What Type of Starters do you prefer / dislike, can’t work with?: i like everything with some sort of substance; i love short ones as much as long ones, nevertheless, you have to give me something to work with. yuna would ignore anyone not of any interest or value to her; therefore, if your muse just asks her random questions, the interaction will go nowhere. if you’re unsure; just ask !!

What type of characters catch your interest the most?: i love characters with uniqueness to them; it can be a certain interest, certain appearance or their species can be totally unique to them; i’ll love it ! i do have a thing for villains, though; always had, even when i was young 8^) so, dark, stubborn & “evil” characters catch my interest far more than a really nice muse who just is all smiles all day. i love a muse that can kick mine & yuna’s ass, basically. someone with strong morals or who is just really set on their beliefs can also offer conflict which i ADORE !! i need it; i live for it !!

What type of characters catch your interest the least?:  really kind & unbothered muses who are self-sacrificing, perfect & loved by everyone for no reason ?? idk, i just think it’s bad writing. everyone has flaws; no one is perfect ! 

What are your strong aspects as rp partner?:  i am a very open person who will talk with you about anything & is keen on exploring our character’s relationship at all times & through all means; i often send my rp partners prompts in form of my yuna just being her dumb-self or through memes ! i will constantly think about our characters & will try to have them interact as much as possible. i am, most of the time, very active & respond to the threads fairly quickly ! if i am totally invested; you’ll get everything you want; a moodboard, an edit, a drawing, etc. i literally pour my heart & soul into every bond my muse has; i live for them. oh !! i also love asking people question about their characters; i just love learning new things about them !! 

What are your weak aspects as rp partner?: i’m very slow out of character; i don’t approach muns a lot because i’m scared to be a bother, working on it ! i often ramble a lot & my writing can become a bit convoluted & hard to understand, i apologize ! i tend to not message people on discord as often as i’d like to; mostly because i’m really socially awkward or just don’t think that what i want to show to them is THAT important. i’m not as straight-forward as i wish myself to be; however, even with all that; i still have a lot of fun & am acknowledging & actively working on my weak aspects ! 

Do you rp smut?:  YES / NO. Do you prefer to go into detail?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS. Are you okay with black curtain?:  YES / NO. - When do you rp smut? More out of fun or character development?:  often, it is because i want to develop the relationship or yuna’s character; she’s a very sexual being who hardly connects to someone emotionally; therefore, writing sex & exploring the vulnerability behind it can be really beautiful ! though, fun is also involved !  - Anything you would not want to rp there?:  non-consensual stuff is a no-go ! also, certain kinks that make me uncomfortable are also off the table; ex. anything involving bodily fluids other than spit. 

Are ships important to you?:   YES / NO. Would you say your blog is ship-focused?:   YES / NO. Do you use read more?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Are you: Multi-Ship / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  Multiverse / Singleverse. - What do you love to explore the most in your ships?:  i love the conflicts the most; clashing ideals or just two stubborn muses arguing for the heck of it is really fun & can develop the relationship beautifully ! yuna is a person who likes someone that can be properly fought with, verbally here. but of course, i also adore the very soft moments!! i love meaningless fluff; it warms my heart.  - What is your smut tag?: SINFUL.

Are you okay with pre-established relationships?: YES / NO. - And what kind of ones?: nothing TOO drastic; a friendship, a rivalry is a-okay ! however, i’m very hesitant when it comes to having pre-est. romantic relationships; though, you can quickly change my mind if you pour your soul into the plotting; then i’m fine with it ! everything that needs time when writing also needs time when plotting; don’t just straight up jump into something if you’re not able to give it your all.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- What could possibly make your Muse interesting towards others, why should they rp with this particular character of yours now, what possible plots do they offer?:  i think yuna is a person with whom it is easy to form relationships with; it takes a bit of time but due to her rather drastic ideals & opinions; anything can be founded within seconds. she doesn’t hold back when it comes to her honesty & conflicts will arise. also, for all muses with demonic or deity backgrounds; being a daughter of the literal queen of hell, though, also harboring fragments of a god’s soul makes her unique in the supernatural world which can spark interest with your character or even they can develop an ill-will towards her ? i think it’s really interesting exploring what makes one work & go on & yuna has the philosophical potential to tickle that out of your muse; she question EVERYTHING. now for certain plots; one-sided love or even friendships are always really interesting, especially when she is the one having such feelings. other than that; she has enormous & dangerous powers; so if you’re into character or world-building; can offer that as well !

- With what type of Muses do you usually struggle to rp with?:  humans; she doesn’t approach humans who are just kind & have nothing to offer for her, the least she’d do is have sex with them or kill them to harvest their life energy. i’m sorry but she really does hate all of humanity & to change that opinion ? man, you must be the most stubborn person ever.  - With what type of Muses do they usually work well with?:  characters who are of supernatural or demonic nature; she’ll be very interested & even nosy to a point. also, very attractive characters who are not afraid to speak their mind; she’s really superficial most of the time & will flirt with anything that she deems good-looking. muses who have ideals that contrast hers or that are similar to her but also, generally, people who are open-minded. 

- What interests your Muse(s) in general:  sex, parties, plants & flowers, astronomy, writing, demons & hell, the underground scene, killing, knives & playing the piano - What do they desire, is their goal?:  the questions that bother her the most are; why did her mother had to die ? why would nobody help her while she was being abused by her father ? why was she kept alive by her sisters ? is there love out there for someone like her ? what do these strange visions mean that occur almost every night ? she has a lot of things she wants to experience & wishes to have a normal life once she has killed her other mother, lilith, which is her ultimate goal, at the moment.  - What catches their interest first when meeting someone new?:  their appearance; the scent of their blood & if it differs from humans; how they react towards her & what they do in front of her.  - What do they value in a person?:    strong opinions, loyalty, good looks, humor, strength (not limited to physical strength) - What themes do they like talking about?:  herself or the world & the state of it; she likes being philosophical with some, can often be somewhat self-centered; THOUGH; it is almost always for her to see how they would react to that. 

- Which themes bore them?:  love & drama; she does not care a lot for gossip or anything relating to it; the topic of love, no matter in which sense, is always brushed off because she just doesn’t find any appeal in it. 

- Did they ever went through something traumatic?:  Being the reason her own mother committed suicide; Her father & sister abusing her all her life, spouting lies & beating her until she could stand no more while her other sisters would watch & do nothing, even though, they were supposed to support each other; laewa, one of her sisters, fancying the idea of killing yuna for the greater good; two of her best friends turning on her when they find out she’s not human & then being killed right in front of her eyes; her one & only boyfriend protecting her from a demon hunter & being killed in the process - What could possibly trigger them?:  loud sudden noises; making fun of her attachment to her late ex-boyfriend, being awfully nice to her, the sight of any dog or wolf, tender touches (esp. her back being touched), being alone with her thoughts for far too long  - What could set them off, enrage them?:  people who make fun of her & her powers; calling her a monster; not understanding her pain when she opens up; purposefully touching her back or any other scarred skin, being nosy  - What could lead to an instant kill?:  you are a demon hunter that does not show remorse when killing demons with a consciousness, trying to kill her, killing one of her comrades 

- Is there someone /-thing they hate?:  Keela Adynora, Myra Adynora (Father, Sister), the other D.O.L.s, EYES’ superiors (the organization she works for), Humans, Lilith - Is there someone /-thing they love?:  Evelin Adynora (Her biological mother)

Is your Muse easy to approach?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?: If you’re not quite human or are a demon, you could literally stand next to her & be silent; she’ll become curious on her own. other than that; be interesting or flirt with her; just do something that does not involve small talk; she hates that.  - Where are they usually to find?:  strip club (her workplace), bars, clubs, clearings within a forest, nice areas that are full of trees & plants; a roof-top

Something you may still want to point out about your muse?:  Yuna is basically pandora’s box personified; she may seem nice & attractive from the outside but within her are sleeping demons that only wait to be awakened. & withal, she is still a cutie who will become your number one supporter & protector if you manage to build a proper relationship with. it’s hard to get through that shell & what awaits is NOT that pretty but with years upon years of abuse, neglect & shit being thrown her way; it’s not easy being a carefree immortal. 

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  @skyvar , i srsly love these so much, snow !! thank you for tagging me <3 i had so much fun 8′)  Tagging:  @thevvolf ; @nezumi-vc-103221 ; @empiia ; @dvojakyvlk ; @childrenxfthemoon ; @hensetsu​​ ; @goldempire​​ ; @animatedatrophy​ ; @talonness​ ; @shikkotsunin​ ; @wcrthlessanimal​ & anyone else !!