#brought this one out of the drafts and dusted it off

[sukunasun]

how would gojo treat his partner/wife?

gojo doesn't really do the whole boyfriend thing very well, not for lack of trying but he's made it very clear. or as clear as "i've never had a girlfriend" can be. which pretty much explains everything.

there are late-night meetups and month-long breaks in between. maybe a gift or two when he's trying to make up for something, it's the only way he knows how to apologize. the latest being cartier bracelets tucked in a red bag, one he holds up to your face eagerly wishing that you'd just forget he's so flawed, in no way ready for commitment, or to talk about it. "i'm sorry, it's just really complicated," he'll sigh. nothing holds gojo down you think. he comes and goes as he pleases. always growing, changing, keeping the end of the world from happening all in plain sight while you move on with a life filled with mundane things he’s probably got no time or reason to care about.

it feels a lot like loving a god sometimes, how he's just that bit out of touch, and...impossible. one who’s desperately trying to be human. with so much fear in his shaking hands and bated breaths, with his lip tucked between teeth, holding back the words he shall never utter, 'don't leave, don't look at me, don't touch me where it hurts.’ gojo treats you—at least initially—like he would anyone else. like he’s learning to love for the first time.

backdraft or whatever they call it. opening a door to a burning house, a fire that bursts and screams at the first rush of oxygen. he wants you to step inside and manage these tempers, seething and roiling resentment, a roof that falls in on itself. 

all this and he's yet to tell you how he really feels about you, however, every once in a while, he does make the effort to call.

“hey it's me,” he says the moment you answer because who else would it be at this hour...does that thing with his voice that's so effortless. warm, and inviting. seductive really. ringing through right as the snow outside begins to frost over wilting leaves.

“sorry, don’t think i know who this is,” you reply, adding a playful lilt to the end of it. there’s a low chuckle in return, then the rustling of sheets, it’s enough to paint you a picture of him in bed. a very large bed from what you remembered, but the last time you’d stopped by his place, there'd been no need for accurate measurements, thread counts, and whether or not he’d gone with sustainable options. in fact, there was no need for talking at all, only muffled moans into the crook of your neck, a whining plea here or there. gojo likes to grit through his teeth, pausing before every first thrust, a savourer is he.

speaking of which, he asks, “how’d you like a reminder?”

you weigh things out, tucking your phone between ear and shoulder. "it's a tempting offer...but i'm starting to feel a little used here," you say. this is just a check-in point for him. just so he knows he still can have his fill of you and...whatever it is you bring to the table, he hasn't actually told you.

'it's the sex' your brain reminds you—all the multiple orgasms in under an hour–type sex, in an onsen, over a balcony, backshots and binding you to fancy rig, will accept a blowjob only if you want to, eager to please, so willing to learn—no, that's not true, the both of you are so much more than that. you talk about very important things like the news and whats good on tv right now. just as long as it doesn't have anything to do with his past or his future or what exactly is the state of this relationship...so it's definitely the sex.

"i thought that's what you wanted, weren't you screaming it at the top of your lungs that night?" for effect, he acts it out for you, "oh use me, do whatever you like," he doesn't try to pitch his voice higher, which makes it all the more embarrassing when hearing your own words said back to you with such impassiveness, such tease. who you were during the throes of passion is not the same person outside of it. to think he'd been a virgin when he met you.

"that selective memory of yours never ceases to amaze me," you can't help the smile that widens on your face.

he smiles too, despite not being able to see it, you know it's there. "well im a very selective man, i don't just ask anyone on a date." you roll your eyes at that. oh how you should feel so lucky. most times he chooses the place because gojo likes what he likes and your recommendations end up getting shot down or made fun of anyways.

you'd say the best part is that he shows up every time. something about how he detests people who flake on him. which is surprising because if anyone were to be tardy and forgetful, it'd be the man who's maybe a bit too blase about anything that doesn't hold his interest for long. that includes when and where his missions are, a flailing hand brushing off any bit of urgency or seriousness. picks and chooses the things he finds worthy of his efforts, his overly exaggerated bouts of emotion—"you wanna go sit by a lake and talk?" people often say he talks too much, besides didn't he just get off the phone with you hours ago.

"we're bonding, there's a difference," you defend, putting your foot down on the matter. if it'd been months earlier, you wouldn't have thought to stand your ground, and maybe a part of you would have been anxious over his reaction but gojo only gives you a pout. shiny, moistened lips giving it away, he's not coming out of this one without a fight and he's annoyed about it. reluctant.

so he'll make an exception, "fine, we'll psychoanalyze each other, how exciting—" the sarcasm is slathered and piled on thick. if he weren't masked you'd kick him in the shin for that eye roll he gives you, childlike almost, given the chance he might even stick his tongue out, "—but i get to choose the place, ah, ah, it's about compromise darling."

——————————————————

later on, when he's three parfaits deep into a sugar rush at a maid cafe, he admits, "you scare me sometimes," of course, he understands the importance of communication, and getting to know one another is part of the deal, this is what girlfriends and boyfriends do, but— "how are you still here?" there's something hidden in his question, sometimes it feels almost like he's testing you to see if you'd be offended, taken aback, huffing out indignantly and stomping away, making him watch you leave.

still, your answer remains the same. "i like you," you sigh out into the night, feeling his arms wrapped around your middle. gojo doesn't need worshipping or sacrifices made to please and appease, but he’s feeling ten feet tall in this body, too long and large, housing power he didn’t ask for. 

“you really mean that?” he whispers in the crook of your neck, you don’t miss the hint of self-deprecation there, or the uncertainty.

so you reach a hand up, just enough to hold his head full of self-doubt, “yes," is all that's needed for him to crumble. walls coming down.

"you're the only woman i've ever been with," he admits. waiting for the moment you face away from him so it's not as revealing, not as vulnerable, and he can say it with just that little bit of courage because he wouldn't see your reaction, he's escaped death many times, he'd be able to say it now, say it here. "and i intend to keep it that way..." you know he's waiting in anticipation for the final blow, the real death that comes for him is when he loses you because of how unlikely it sounds, gojo satoru, the strongest sorcerer alive, only bedded one woman.

his fingers come up to graze the slope of your shoulder, before he wraps an arm around your chest, pressing his weight into you from behind, wrapping you up, only it's ten times heavier when his admission presses down on your thumping little heart alongside with it.

——————————————————

in the middle of a restaurant in ginza, gojo breaks his chopsticks in half along a deep line with fine precision, before rubbing them back and forth to remove the thin, stray hairs of aspen. there are people who look up when the sound catches their attention, then avert their eyes away. but not before lingering over his striking looks for that split second, blue eyes and white hair, what a combo.

he barely notices at this point, but he does know you’re watching from where you sit. food untouched, like you’re waiting for something to happen. you don’t need his permission he thinks, or at least, no one had ever waited for it. so he explains before you get the chance to ask, getting it out of the way and maybe then you’ll start digging in and he wouldn’t have to sit in this weird, silent tension, “he always did it this way,” gojo shrugs. 

you don’t ask who 'he' refers to, “i wasn’t going to say anything,” you reply, nodding along, trying to ease some of the nerves there because this isn't to do with the chopsticks, but that gojo gets like this around christmas. actually, he gets like this almost all the time these days. 

“why aren’t you eating? the unagi’s really nice,” he points to the piece of eel that’s cooked to perfection, glazed and sticky. “is it not to your liking?” he looks up quickly, searching your face, looking for any sign of distaste. 

“it’s fine,” you stop him from waving down the waiter, knowing he intends to order something else for you. but he never asks, not about what you would prefer or if you had any aversions to seafood. instead, he plays a guessing game, only tries, and tries again. hoping that he’d get it right immediately. just another thing satoru does. that he's way more accommodating than most would give him credit for. so much so you forget that he's barely touched the unagi himself, choosing instead to nudge it closer to you.

and maybe he’d been to used to this, maybe he’d always gotten it right with the one before you, maybe that’s why it hurts so much. and you're too occupied with wiping tears behind a blindfold that night to make sense of it when he can’t stop dreaming about long silken hair tucked into a bun, of a scent that lingers on a street crossing and by a classroom window.

still, he tucks a finger underneath the band. revealing clumped-up strands of white, silver, grey...a storming ocean swirls. a woman finally found, what a sight to behold. who chooses him and cleaves his heart in two every time she so much as smiles, calls him by his name, and touches his skin with her own. gently at first and then in a pressured, firm grip. "i'm not going anywhere," hand wholly encompassing his, fingers entwined, or maybe it's the other way around. gojo's got a wide expanse of palm, life and heart lines spanning across a region of an untouched, unmarred surface, all the power to bend space, time, and an infinity simmering above it.

“it’s gonna be okay,” you say, feeling a minuscule gap close where you finally feel him, really feel him.

[monicahar]

—guide on how to fluster the wanderer in four simple steps!

ever wanted your mean lil gremlin of a lover to blush before your very eyes? well, well, you've come the right person!

gn! reader, crack & fluff, dark humor cuz obv i will never miss a chance to bully scara, gets suggestive at the end cause why not djsjsjdjdj idk what im doing i have 26 drafts collecting dust and this is the first thing i finished 💀 help me

# i. choose the appropriate time to strike.

this is the most essential factor in making your huffy lover get embarrassed and not accidentally behead you in a fit.

(he'd never do such a thing on purpose, atleast.)

failing to follow in accordance to this particular step will certainly lead to unwanted consequences such as;

ignoring you the whole day(😦), blasting you off onto another nation(😨), a slight chance of having your head not intact by the end of the day(😰), no warm huggie wuggies from your pretty boyfie(😫) and the ever-dreaded deprivation of authority over his hat(😱)—you couldn't bear to not wear it for a bare minimum of 10 minutes a day!

but if it all comes to shove and you successfully select the perfect timing to initiate your relentless attack on his pride and ego, you might as well prepare your fragile heart for a blessing of a sight such as reddened cheeks present on his fair face as everything from now will be considered smooth sailing! not that hard now, is it?

“you've been gawking at me for a while. what do you want?” you don't flinch a bit when he abruptly closes the book he was previously reading, turning his head to meet your staring eyes with a bothered glare of his own.

ignoring his rather harsh acknowledgement of your silent yearning for his attention to be woven towards you instead of that book he's holding, you blink to yourself as something hits you. he raises a brow at your silence and the seemingly fleeting moment of enlightenment that crosses your blank expression.

the quietude and solitary peace of the room and its atmosphere along with him not throwing his book at you from staring at him basically the whole time he was engorging himself in the piece literature he's holding strongly suggested he was in a good mood.

a perfect moment to strike arises!

# ii. formulate the right approach.

whether your attack should be mild/teasing or rather heated/steamy—it heavily depends on the situation you've chosen and deemed as the appropriate time to strike.

take note of some his small actions to concur what he's feeling at the moment—is he feeling a tad bit annoyed? is he currently in one his clingy moods? does he look like he wants to murder you? or is he just neutral, awaiting for something to interrupt the usual streak of normalcy and growing boredom in his day?

but right now, in your current time—he was just reading his book before he finally picked up and confronted your lengthened staring burning the side of his face.

so something a bit more on the light teasing side would fit. if you brought up some type of dirty joke right now amidst the very normal and quiet day you both are having, he'd probably stand up, approach you with his light footsteps, and backhandedly slap you across the face for being such a horndog.

(that was a joke, for legal reasons. he's more likely to just squint his eyes at you weirdly and continue on reading his book, resulting into the failure of your plan to see him get embarrassed. game over.)

choosing to be a clever dog just this once, you coordinate your attack to match up along with your reply to his earlier question—barking back with the intention to strike at one of his weak points only open to his lover; his perfected features that make up his beautiful face.

raising a hand to your cheek as to feign shyness from being caught red-handed by staring at him, you let out a hearty giggle to soothe his nerves—his frown immediately dissipating from the sound of your laughter. his last defensive barrier: shattered. shutting your eyes knowingly as you raise a cup of bitter tea to your lips, you already know you've won.

“hehe, my bad. you just look a bit more handsome today.”

“...”

a beat of silence overcomes the short exchange of words.

it might seem light or weak to others, heck, even you see it as a bit pathetic, but to the complete virgin former harbinger, he views it totally differently from how others would have expected.

a small push filled with sincerity and truth is his breaking point a hundred percent of the time.

lifting your eyelids as you place your teacup down, your heart clenches at the sight before you.

# iii. relish in the rare moment of weakness.

soak it all up as much as you can. but don't let greed take over you at the taste of victory.

moments such as these aren't anywhere near common at all. your excitement is nearly overflowing but you have to keep yourself still as to not ruin it for yourself.

you're so used to being shut down and ending in utter failure when trying to pry a positive reaction from him—that you could probably just burst from happiness alone when he finally concedes relents to your teasing.

you'd have to hold yourself down from pouncing on him from the display of sheer cuteness he's currently presenting to you, albeit you were quite annoyed with how he's trying hard to hide the rosy cheeks and ears you adored underneath the shadow of his hat.

why is he wearing his hat inside your shared inn? you don't know.

pushing yourself off from your seat, you quietly approach the man sitting across from you, cautious in your movements as to not startle and scare him away at this small window of vulnerability—already well-informed of his past experiences regarding it.

gently lifting his hat up and discarding it onto a nearby tabletop, he stares at you with wide eyes as you quickly swoop down to peck his forehead, and then down to his lips before pulling away just as hastily.

the caught-off-guard look on his face makes you coo at the sight in the back of your mind.

eyeing his flushed state, you can't help but let out a soft sigh as you seat yourself on his lap, wrapping your hands around him to pull him closer, chests against each other's as he remains stiffened underneath your loving hold.

cute.

“handsome.” you mutter, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw. “my handsome boy.”

# iv. now, freestyle. 😼

do you want to cut the moment short, play hard to get and leave him wanting for more? or do you want to prolong the playful mood—and quite possibly, lead it into something more?

if you've started something, then you're surely going to finish it, right?

the wanderer, after all—dislikes people when they're all bark and no bite.

“you said that just to tease me, didn't you?” his clammy hands that were suspended in the air for so long out of surprise finally made themselves home to your hips, his hold on it nearly bruising as he desperately tries to calm down his erratic emotions. “always think you're so funny, huh.” he mutters.

“i supposed so, initially. it still held truth in the end though. i like your cute reactions.” you admit with a lop-sided smile, cupping his burning cheek as you slight lean away to look at him wholly. “a very handsome boyfriend, indeed.” you nod in affirmation, making him narrow his eyes.

his blush is now non-existent as he's now back to his normal self, having gained composure as quickly as it left the moment you sat yourself on his lap. he was cute earlier, avoiding your gaze and all that, but this side of him was undoubtedly way more attractive. his exuding confidence always never fails to drive you crazy.

a shiver makes it way down your spine when an all-knowing smirk makes its way to his lips.

“alright then, [name].” he leans back on his chair, his hands not leaving your hips to keep you anchored atop of him, the expanse of his lean body now a lot more visible to you. “what's your next course of action? are you going to stand up and disappoint me? ...or are you going to live up to the hinted suggestions of your less-than-friendly touches just now?”

there it was. that daring gaze of his.

are you going to continue upholding the streak of normalcy you didn't know you were both capable of, or will you give in to your desires?

and then nahida barges in, slaps both of you with an overgrown radish and everyone starts behaving like proper educated adults 🥰 the end.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Crown of Gold

cw. gn!reader, eremite!reader, pre-relationship, reader rizz

pairing. kaveh x reader

notes. this has been in my drafts for months. literal freaking months. this was supposed to be done and posted ages ago but apparently... this is what happens to a oneshot in the hands of a master procrastinator. this isn't anything too long but kaveh simps, come get your simp juice.

“You have a really fun toy, Mister!”

“Mehrak isn’t a toy! She’s my precious toolbox!”

There’s a mechanical beep and you hear gleeful shrieks and clapping following.

“A toy, a toy!”

When the man ー Kaveh, you remember ー groans in frustration, you aren’t able to stop your soft chuckles that are drowned out by the sounds of your younger sisters’ laughter. Let me help the guy out before he pulls his hair out.

“Uru, Jericho,” you step from behind the pillar, tugging your brocade off your face to give them a stern but playful look. The twins share a look of panic between them, Uru letting go of the strange, sentient box in her hands. “Are you bothering our guest?”

Aaru Village isn’t your home but it is a stable place to keep your sisters while you work.

You were born into the life of a mercenary, you seldom had a choice in what to become. Your mother was a mercenary and you grew up surrounded by them. Uncles and Aunties who would carve bowls and husk ajilenakh nuts with their swords. Stories being told around a fire as songs that have long since lost their names are sung. The scent of iron and dust blending into each other.

Your father passed away months after your birth and as for the twins’ dad, you doubt you would be able to pick the man out of a crowd even if held by blade point. You don’t know if he’s dead, nor do you know if the man simply abandoned his children in favor of life in the rainforest. Maybe he even had a new family.

You doubt you’ll ever receive an answer. Nor do you care if you ever receive one.

After your mother died on a job, you took your sisters and brought them to Aaru Village. Here your sisters can grow up with friends they can see everyday and neighbors with varying life expectancies.

You, on the other hand, continued your life as a hand-for-hire. Mercenary work is what took your family but it is what gave you the means to survive with the family you have left.

Uru and Jericho are your pride and joy. You want them to have the opportunities you couldn’t.

That doesn’t mean they can torment the architect whose visit to the village coincided with your own however. 

“He’s the one who designed the library they’re building. He’s Kaveh!” you learned quickly from little Ayten. One might find it honorable he returns to make sure his work is being followed completely to the letter, another might find it simply as the architect doing his job.

You like to believe his reasoning is a happy medium between the two.

You give Kaveh a polite smile and he smiles back in relief. It’s practically reflex that you feel a small stutter of your heart. He is very beautiful. You have seen your fair share of beautiful people in both the desert and the rainforest. 

This son of the rainforest is perhaps the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.

It isn’t the first time you’ve seen the architect without your Eremite brocade inhibiting your sight. You’d seen him from a distance in the afternoon sun, discussing with Setaria and Badawi. Yet it is a different experience when he is standing right in front of you with locks of gold crowning his head and framing his ruby-red eyes.

“Go on and apologize to Mr. Kaveh and his Mehrak, okay?”

“Sorry, Mr. Kaveh,” Uru murmurs, hands behind her back.

“Sorry,” Jericho mumbles, fiddling with her dress.

Kaveh clears his throat and he sounds a bit too pleased at the apologetic words even if they are technically forced. “It’s fine, just make sure to treat Mehrak gently. She’s very important to me.” As if to agree with her master, the sentient box beeps. “Mehrak says she forgives you as well.” The twins brighten at this declaration. 

“Now why don’t the two of you go and play with the children your age, hmm,” you nod in the direction of some children playing enthusiastically with their small scarab warriors.

“Sorry about my sisters,” you tell the man softly when the twins make their exit. “They think you’re fascinating.” He is fascinating. The clothes you buy are built for practicality. For the heat of the desert and for the humidity of the rainforest. Kaveh’s form of dress is undoubtedly fancier than what most desert folk don. He was swathed in the colors of Sumeru from the greens of the rainforest to the pale golds of the sands. “Most rainforest folk they see in Aaru Village are... different compared to you.”

Scholars in their Akademiya robes or those who now call the Red Sand their home. Those are the types of rainforest folk you'll typically find here.

“They aren’t too much trouble,” the architect tells you smoothly like he hadn’t been softly bullied by the two only moments prior.

“Really? They’re a pair of troublemakers to me,” you laugh, scarred hands resting on your hips. “They know they’re cute too. You’ve fallen right into their trap. They’ll be begging you to make them wreaths with your Vision if you’re not careful.”

Kaveh doesn’t look upset by your guffaws. His smile is one of exasperation and self-admitted doom. “Yep, they got me good,” he sighs good-naturedly. “I owe you a ‘thank you’. For Mehrak,” the toolbox beams in what you think is a happy tone. “And you’re the additional help Badawi mentioned, right? I appreciate you helping with keeping the trade route open to help lower loss of materials.”

“No need to thank me for that,” you shake your head. You don’t deserve them. You’re only helping since this coincided with your visit. So when Badawi asked if you could assist with keeping the costs down in the way you knew best, you easily told him he had your axe. “If it weren’t for that, I probably would be who knows where right now.”

Kaveh shakes his head at you even more firmly, “regardless of the reasoning, you’re helping out and that’s worthy of an expression of gratitude.”

You decide to let the architect win this battle. “Consider it my own thanks,” at the look of confusion he gives you, you are quick to explain: “For the library. It’s something this place desperately needs.”

Kaveh's smile is a bit more warm than polite. "It's my pleasure to work on any desert revitalization efforts."

You sit on one of the stray crates close by and gesture for the architect to sit beside you. He does, setting his toolbox beside him, it's bright green glow gone. "When it comes to this library you're building, can we expect to see it decorated entirely in plants?"

"I'll have to disappoint you," the man laughs sheepishly. "The building will probably be plainer than you're thinking."

"Don't worry, I was just pulling your chain," you reassure him. "It's enough that the children here will have a place to study."

“Plants have never been my strong suit,” the architect admits with a begrudging tone. “I’m happy with the Vision I have but plants aren’t an element I have a natural affinity for. I would have expected something more fitting to my interests or maybe that has more to do with my career.” He then mutters something along the lines of ‘maybe Geo or Cryo for sample constructs’, lost completely in thought.

He really is beautiful. It’s a look you’ve seen on him before from a distance. Deep in thought in the glow of the sun that made his hair shine more bright and his red eyes a red as deep as the cloths eremites use to cover their eyes.

“I have a friend with a Dendro Vision who hails from the Amurta Darshan, he definitely is able to use his to its fullest extent,” Kaveh sighs in finality. "I'll see if there are any plants he recommends for the desert

“I think it suits you,” a blond eyebrow raises in curiosity. As if he's challenging you for such a thought. An architect with with the power of plants doesn't seem that ridiculous a notion to you.

“The rainforest is your home so I think Dendro suits you just fine." He's much like the plants of Sumeru himself with the bright colors he swaddled in. "You’ve grown into your plants quite well, son of the rainforest. Besides, flowers are beautiful. Beautiful things are best suited for beautiful people.”

Perhaps that was too honest if Kaveh’s flaming red face at your candor is anything to go off of.

“As for myself, a Vision would be nice but I don’t need one. My ambitions in life are simpleー give my sisters the life I couldn’t have," you continue on, looking at your sisters.

They have no scarabs of their own to join in their friends' game, but they are watching the present match enthusiastically.

It’s a goal that can be accomplished with or without a Vision, blessings from the gods are simply boons for that goal. “I want them to go to the Akademiya and have the best chance at a good life. Maybe meeting you will inspire them to join Kshahrewar and become architects. Whatever makes them happy.”

Your words bring Kaveh out his flustered stupor, crossing his arms with a look of indignance. “I refuse to let those two be architects,” he says too resolutely for someone who is practically a stranger to the three of you. “If they want peace, they should definitely find a different field of study.”

You snort in amusement, “Setaria was telling me about how you’re this bigshot architect in the capital and you don’t want more students to join the craft?”

Kaveh shudders as if recalling terrible, terrible memories. “I’m surprised my hair hasn’t already turned gray,” he nods to himself, even more convinced than before. “Those girls look more like Amurta researchers to me. Maybe Spantamad if they find they like field research.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on your opinions to them, Mr. Kaveh,” you say with a bemused grin. “Maybe in the future they’ll surprise us both and do none of the things we’re talking about.” But as long as it isn’t mercenary work, it doesn’t matter.

"Kaveh," the architect corrects you. "You can just call me Kaveh. No formalities needed."

"Feel free to just call me [First]," you grin. You believe you'll enjoy working this project for however long you're needed. You don't think it's too arrogant to believe the man beside you is thinking the same. "No formalities needed."

Extra:

I was heavily moved to write this because I was thinking about VADTD's Penelope and how when she first met Callisto her eyes were drawn to his golden hair. I have a weakness for 2D blonds that that have red eyes, it's such a sexy combo in manhwas

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

Twighlight Shine - Lycoris radiata

Blade x reader

Navi.

Warnings: subconscious yearning?

Note: this has been in my drafts for a while

Wordcount: ~700

He left a trail of red behind him. When you first saw him, you believed it to be the last time. The flowers he left in his wake a tell tale sign of a soul both lost and doomed. And yet, here he was, very clearly alive, albeit a little quiet.

Disconcertingly so, if you were being quite honest. He stared right at you too and you couldn't help but shift in your seat.

"You're uncomfortable." He stated the obvious in a deadpan voice. However, the way he laid his head to the side reminded you of a confused dog.

"Ah-" you bit your lip to suppress a needlessly hasty explanation.

"Hm?" He furrowed his eyebrows as he let out the sound.

"It's just," you smiled nervously, "I've seen you before. That's all."

He hummed in understanding. "And?"

"I, well," you broke off. "Your flowers are pretty," you murmured then, finally gaining the courage to tell him.

His eyes widened.

"What flowers?"

Now, it was your turn to lay your head to the side. He couldn't help but liken you to a puppy. Though a puppy seldom smiles as beautiful as you did in that moment. Then again, he wasn't quite sure when he last had seen a puppy.

"What do you mean?" You let out a breathless laugh. He flinched at the sound. "Lycoris radiata. They bloom where you go. Have you not noticed?"

He shook his head.

"Only death remains where I tread."

Your smile disappeared and he realised that somewhere deep within his chest he longed to see it again.

"I know. But I'm not sure if it's their death that follows you."

That brought a smile to his face.

"Really?" Your breath hitched when you saw the pure happiness in his eyes. "I hope you are right."

You looked to be his reaper. The way you seemed to follow him wherever he went may have been uncanny to some, though, to him you were the comfort one seeks in bed with one's love.

He thought your beauty a fleeting wind cutting through hearts to let them wither in dust. Your eyes held warmth so dear to him, they might set him aflame eternally.

Your touch, however, he thought would be his undoing, if ever you should deem the time to be right

It was in a lonely world he met you again. Snow crunched beneath your feet, the setting sun the background to your portrait.

"It´s been a while."

You turned, surprised, but then your lips spread into the sweetest of smiles at the sight of him.

"How have you been?" You walked towards him.

"How are the flowers?" he asked instead.

You hummed, and he watched you take a few steps around him.

"They are as vibrant as ever," you told him, finally looking up again.

He grunted.

"What are you doing here?"

You laughed.

"And you?"

Many seasons pass before an immortal is deemed ready for sleep. He did not at first notice your unchanging body. Your eyes always more experienced, more mature, than the last time, only one night in his bed did he realise that fifty years had passed since your first meeting. And yet, your steps were as youthful as ever.

Jing Yuan would certainly adore you, but the thought pierced through his heart, though he did not understand why.

He saw you again in a bamboo forest, waiting for him. Your hand reached out to him; however, you hesitated and so he did not take it. He sat down and together you watched the rise and descend of the golden sun.

He did not know you, yet he couldn´t help but want to. Once, he had dreamed of your lips laid softly on his eyes, tickling his lashes. He had awoken with terror striking his heart.

He had even thought of the feeling of your hair between his fingers. Only rarely did he think of your fingers on his skin. It would make him shudder in distaste every time - this truest of impossibilities.

Still, your touch he thought would be his undoing, if ever you should dare.

[matenrou-fan]

Lucifer pays you a visit

I didn't write that much for OM last time when actually I really wanted to!! So I decided to finish this thing that was in my drafts for a while.. Hope to receive more OM request this time ahhhh!! >.<

Actions are taking place in the human world, when you get back after a year in Devildom. But even if the student exchange program is over, Lucifer still wants to see his dearest girlfriend

femreader, teasing, begging, body worship, oral (receiving);; 2748 words;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

You sigh, a little bit nervous as you look at a clock on your bed table. Why does time always get so slow when you are waiting for something? Or maybe you should use the word someone..? Anyways, this waiting starts getting on your nerves and you get up from bed.

Your room was really comfy, looking the same as the time when you left it, but honestly now you feel like something was off, like it was empty a little bit. Even with all those things that you were missing for the whole year that you spent in another dimension with demon brothers didn't bring you that happens that you expected to feel when you finally get back home.

Oh, but maybe they can entertain you right now, as you have nothing more to do. It has already been a few weeks since you got here so all dust was cleaned up but you still have a little mess here, your old things were mixed with new ones that you brought with yourself as farewell gifts from Devildom. You start looking through pages of your old diary, reading about your old boring days. Well, they weren't that boring back then, just now, after all those things that you've been through, these little notes look so.. peaceful.. You can't help but chuckle and move forward, searching for more things that will bring you some memories.

After some time you finally get to your wardrobe. Huh, there's so much clothes that you forget about..! This past week was a little bit busy as you tried to revive your "normal" human life again, thinking about studying and working, so you didn't pay that much attention to your clothes.

As you looked through shelves you noticed the one with pajamas, and one set got your attention.. It was a pink silk shorts with white prints and a little bow on a waistband, and a matching top with thin white lace as straps. You chuckle, looking at a small piece of fabric and then quickly undress yourself. You were a little playful today so you decided that this cute pajama, that was much more revealing than the one that you picked before, is more suited to your mood right now. You bite your lip as you look at the mirror in your bedroom, just a cute and innocent look, but you can imagine his reaction already.

Speak of the Devil.. As soon as you think about your visitor again you suddenly hear a knock on the door. You ran out of the bedroom, already a little bit inpatient.

"Who it's is..?" - you asked with a smirk on your face when you get closer to the door, heart beating so fast as you already know who is standing there.

"You already know who's decided to pay a visit to you so late.." - the deep voice on the other side of the door chuckled. - "It's Lucifer.."

Well. Any other humans would probably shoot their door tight after hearing something like that, thinking it's some sort of prank, but you know that's not a joke or something, and quickly open the door.

Lucifer was standing here, his casual academy's suit was gone, as he was wearing black sweater with a turtleneck and dark blue jacket. A simple look but he was so charming right now, his black styled hair and deep red eyes was matching his clothes perfectly.

"How I'm glad to finally meet you again.." - he smirks, his voice playful as always. But as soon as his eyes move from your smiling face to your body, exploring your soft, almost uncovered skin, his smirk grows wider. - "Someone definitely was waiting for me today, huh? Such a great welcoming move just for me?"

You look at him innocently, acting like you don't understand what he's talking about and lead him to your kitchen. Despite all these teases you actually missed him and wanted to talk about so many things.

And he feels the same. As you two drink tea together, he listens carefully to all your stories. You got carried away a little, telling him about all that awkward situation when you suddenly get back after a whole year, your friend's reaction and everything. There were some funny stories, some embarrassing ones, but you didn't hide anything from him. And your lover appreciated that, he didn't even try to hide his smile as he was listening to your mumbles, these sparkles in your eyes are so adorable, and these cute giggles.. He can't help but sometimes his gaze starts wandering around your body, slowly moving from your small hands to your naked shoulder and then to your breast, covered with light fabric. He licks his lips and looks at your eyes again, despite he's still hearing all that you say his mind flies away in another world as he starts wondering about all those things that can help him show just how much he actually missed you all this time.

Then you suddenly finish and smile at him.

"So, and how are things in Devildom? I bet you also have plenty of stories about Mammon causing troubles, don't you?" - you giggle, drinking warm herbal tea and Lucifer scoff:

"You bet I have them.. But darling.." - he moves closer, his fingertips touching your hands lightly - "Don't you think that now, when we finally have some.. private time without my annoying brothers, we should spend it more properly?"

He smirks, noticing as light pink covers your cheeks, your eyes on his face, the mix of surprise, embarrassment and tease in your gaze look so charming. Who know Avatar of Pride would fall so easily in your cute little trap? But a little look at your body, this soft and sweet smell of your skin was enough for him to get needy. He hold your hands more tightly, squeezing it a little as his thumbs caressing your knuckles. Lucifer sighs a little, revealing his softer side, as he can't help but feel the same pink color adorn his face too.

"I missed you so much.." - your heart skipped a beat when he said that, his tone so soft and deep. It was unusual to see him like that, as he showed this sensitive part of him only for you on rare occasions. But that also means that he's not joking or playing right now..

You look at his large hands on your smaller one, then look back at him. The little changes in your gaze tell him more than any words can tell as he gets up and gets closer, leaning towards you and cupping your face with his arms, bringing you to a kiss, a hungry one, as he can't get enough of your lips. Just how much he thought about this during your separation, laying all alone in his bedroom late at night, the image of your face doesn't leave his mind..

You almost chuckle, thinking how needy he can be and then gasp, a little bit surprised, as his arms find their way to your waist. He squeezed it a little before picking you up. He breaks a kiss, just for a few seconds, breathing heavily.

"Where is your bedroom?"

"Ooh, I thought you were so hungry that you would take me right here.." - you giggle, as your legs wrap around his hips. Thoughts about him pinning you to the table, so fast, aggressive and merciless.. You felt a tingly running to your core but Lucifer just smirks:

"Despite that I can do that.. I want to give your more proper attention today. I want to fully enjoy you, all for myself.." - his hands moved to your ass cheeks, holding them tightly as he pressed your crotch to his.

You shiver, telling him where your room is and he quickly gets inside, laying you down on the bed as he gets on top of you. He didn't even give you time to react as he kissed you again, now a more soft but still so greedy, pushing himself inside your mouth, his tongue a little bit bitter, Lucifer is probably drinking coffee before paying a visit to you.. You moan right into his mouth as his hands start exploring your body, the soft fabric of your pajama was so light, it almost feels like he's touching your naked skin. Well, it didn't take too much time before he actually got under your small top, cupping your breast, your already hard nipples between his fingers as he played with them a little. Even after so much time he still remembers all your weak spots and now uses them to tease you a little, yet still didn't touch you down here, only paying attention to your chest and trembling figure.

His lips moved further, now a demon was kissing your neck, your little noises were so precious.. He was missing them so much. And oh just how much he was missing those high pitched gasps that you always did when he suddenly bit your skin, as he did just right now. He looked prideful at the red mark, licking it and getting a little bit down, to a collarbone.

"Sh.. Sh.. don't whine too much.." - he chuckled, kissing a prominent bone before leaving a hickey - "I need to make sure every human would know that you're mine.."

You can't help but giggle softly. That's it, that's the Lucifer you always had known.. Possessive and jealous in his love, but that's why you like him - because his wild passion always hits you right into the heart, making shivers run down your spine as he keeps transmitting his inner fire by bunch of hickeys. Lines of his marks going down, to your breast now, where your lover stops for a moment. He looked up for a moment, and this manic deep gaze of his glowing red eyes.. you whimper, arching your back a little, pushing your body closer to his, making him chuckle in amusement.

"Be patient, little lady.. After all, I want to spend the whole night by your side, so we don't need to hurry, okay..?"

He helps you to take off the small top, admiring your beautiful naked breast, enjoying every small detail - the way your chest gets up and down with uneven breath, how small goosebumps covers you as fresh air of your bedroom tickles heated up skin, and, of course, your moles and birthmarks that was like a little starts on canvas of your beautiful body. Lucifer adores every part of you and your figure, never getting enough of this mesmerizing view in front of him.

"You're just like I remember.." - he whispers, leaning closer and kissing a gap between your boobs. Despite the fact that he still was so playful today, thoughts about him actually being here, with you, melted the demon's heart, and he got kinda romantic, almost worshiping your body with his hands and lips.

Licking your right areola before cupping sensitive nipples between lips, making you whimper. Your hand finds its way in Lucifer's hair, buried in black locks as slow lapping of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. His other hand grabs your left breast, fingertips playing and pushes a small teat as he enjoys all the sweet sounds you make, singing so cute just for him.

It doesn't take too much time before Lucifer eventually lowered more, peppering your stomach with kisses, and then finally reaching your hips that were trembling in silk shorts. Without any words he just took it off, throwing it away just to see the cotton fabric of your panties already being soaked in your wetness.

"I can see you were waiting for it no less than me.." - a low chuckle escaped his lips, tickling your skin as his head was now between your thighs. Prolonged eye contact on your blushing face as his arms slowly get under waistband and pull it down, revealing your heated up skin inch by inch.

You bite your lip, getting more flustered - of course you wanted him no less than he wants you, yet after so much time apart you suddenly get more ashamed again, as if it was one of your first times with this playful demon. And of course it doesn't go unnoticed to him.

"Ooh? So you're nervous..? Don't worry, s/o, you know I don't bite.. Well, at least this part of your body.." - Lucifer chuckles, caressing your inner thighs as he spreads your legs a little. The view of your pulsing cunt makes his already starving mind go even crazy and he leaned closer, making first, long and slow lick. Such a bitter yet sweet taste, even the most expensive aged Demonus will never be as heady and delightful as your sinful ambrosia. And along with these soft whimpers that get more high pitched when movements of his tongue get more strong and intense.. truly majestic.

Lucifer was just a pro at making you squirm around with his mouth, playing with your folds before lapping on your clit in fast pace, than, as soon as he sees how much you start trembling and lifting your hips more, he suddenly slow down and move his tongue away, leaving your whining and sobbing. In the beginning you thought that your lover is kinda inpatient today but now it seems like he is willing to do things for a long time, making up for lost time when he was not here. He was literally eating you out, sucking on your folds, pushing his tongue deep inside, slurping all juices, enjoying your body as the most pleasant meal.

"Mm.. Luci, please…" - you moan, grasping his hair again as it's starting to be too much. Your head starts to feel dizzy as all your nerves concentrate in your core, aching for release. Knot in your tummy grow more and more, pulsing and making you tremble in anticipation.

"I didn't even use my fingers and you already like that?" - he smirks right into your pussy, licking your folds, tip of his tongue so suffocatingly close to your throbbing clit. - "Tell me, how often did you dream about this if now you're so oversensitive?"

You whine in embarrassment. Oh of course, how can you forget about all these teases, as Lucifer always loves to play with you.. Bringing you almost to the edge, sending more and more waves of goosebumps over your whole body with his movements, just too mocking you for being so needy for him..

"I.. several times every week.." - voice so weak yet you should answer, knowing damn well this demon will not continue if you're not telling him.

"How cute.. You were being so desperately needy, yet never called for me to come?"

"Well.. I thought that maybe you would be busy or something.." - you mumble under your breath, looking away.

"Oh, sweetheart.. You should know that no matter how busy I get I always would find time to spend it alone with you.." - Lucifer smiles, pressing his lips to your clit again, kissing a small bundle of nerves before sucking on it. Arms strong enough to keep you in place as you start bucking your hips again, feeling an upcoming tingling wave in your core.

All your muscles tensed up for a moment and you moan as a hot rush overflows you, burning you in bliss. Lucifer keeps moving his tongue around your clit, gladly suckin your cum as his amused eyes watch your pleasant face.. How you gasp, digging nails in sheets around you with one hand and pulling his hair with another, how you shut your eyes, full of tears, overwhelmed with such strong pushing feeling between your thighs, how you strain your vocal cord, calling his name so loud and needy.. Lucifer can enjoy this beautiful view in front of him for eternity. But he wants to push even more, wants to see the same expression on your face when you would clench around his dick, squeezing him with your walls, so tight it's hard to move, almost as if you are asking to fulfill your pussy with his cum.. Image of you getting lost in your pleasure again, as he pounds you like a wild animal doesn't leave his mind for the whole time as he gets inside your house and sees your provocative pajamas.

So Lucifer pulls away from your thighs, getting on top of you with a smug smile.

"So, darling.. Are you ready to start real fun..?"

[billys-pretty-babe]

How Could You?

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Sometimes, Billy needs reassurance that you love him especially after Neil gets into his head, using your name against Billy, knowing that hurts worse than when his father puts his hands on him.

Warnings : child abuse, Neil Hargrove, swearing, Billy makes a sex joke 😐

Word count : 835

A/N : My mental health has been so bad recently so this might be my last fic for a while that I actually take time to write. I have stuff in my drafts ready to post in case I need them.

It hurts you deeply, seeing him like this, so vulnerable, so hurt by his own father. Neil left with Susan, leaving Max and Billy at the house. Max was the one to call you, she heard everything that happened, and heard every word that Neil spewed at your boyfriend. You're pretty sure you broke almost every law in town to get to him, needing to be with him.

She let you into the house, hugging you quickly. "I left water and Tylenol outside of his room, I don't know if he took it." You nodded and thanked her and she went to her room as you went to Billy's, the water and medicine nowhere in sight. You knocked and walked inside, seeing him in his bed, shirtless and in shorts.

He looked at his ceiling, holding his necklace tightly and you knew the chain was digging into the skin, making it raw. "Baby," you said quietly. He didn't take his eyes off of the ceiling as he hummed to you, acknowledging you. You shut his door behind you and moved to the edge of his bed, his ankle against the bottom of your back.

Your heart sank when you saw what exactly Neil did to him, "Oh baby." He shook his head, "Don't do that, not for me. I'm not deserving of that." Still, his eyes never left the ceiling. "Yes you are." He shook his head, "I'm not, trust me." Slowly and with calculated movements, you reached for his knee, gently rubbing it, doing your best to not get knots in the brunette hair that dusted the skin.

"Why aren't you?" He sighed, "Because I'm not." You hummed, "That's not an actual answer, B." He stayed quiet. "Do you want me to leave," you asked after a few minutes of silence. "No," he deadpanned. You nodded, "Okay," you said as you got comfortable, sitting beside him, gently yanking a pillow out from underneath him.

The room was silent besides Billy's ragged breathing, his adrenaline through the roof as he tried to calm down. "Do you love me?" You looked at him, "Of course I do." He hummed, "Okay." You sighed before speaking again, "It was after our second date, when you brought me back here and you were working on that junk bike. You were so open with me, I was able to ask you anything and you immediately answered. I got to know William, not Billy or the keg king, but William Hargrove. So yeah, I can positively say that I do indeed love you, a lot more than I could ever express."

He nodded, hand reaching for yours and you held it, seeing little cuts on his knuckles. "Did you hit him back?" He shook his head, "I think I'd be dead if I did. Punched the bathroom wall, there's a hole now so I moved the picture over it." You nodded and rubbed his knuckles gently. "Did you break anything?" He shook his head, "Already checked myself like you taught me to." You nodded.

"Is it hard to love me?" You shook your head, "It's second nature for me, like breathing." He nodded and looked at you quickly, "You forget how to breathe sometimes." You grumbled and he laughed. "Shut up, Billy." His laugh made you smile, usually it was something just for you. "Imagine forgetting how to breathe that you have to watch your boyfriend do it." You rolled your eyes, "Imagine eating fucking bubbles in the shower." He thumped your thigh, "That was one time because you blew bubbles at me."

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, murmuring, "I love you." You smiled, "I love you too now give me a kiss." He laughed and tipped your head back before kissing you. You smiled when he pulled away, "Man, is this what Disney is like?" He laughed, "I mean, you do get to ride your favorite ride." You gasped and he laughed, placing his hand on his stomach as his shoulders shook, head thrown back and you laughed with him.

"Billy, that's inappropriate." He snickered, "Look at who you're talking to. Of course it was." You laughed and shook your head, looking at the bottle of Tylenol on his bedside table. "Go tell her thank you." He groaned as he got up, trudging next door before coming back a few minutes later and he laid back down. "Need me to mend anything?" He shook his head, “I'm good, maybe my dick." You sighed, "Billy, shut up." He laughed before Max piped up through the wall.

"Yeah Billy, shut up!" You both laughed and he knocked on the wall, "Shut it, Maxine!" You laughed, shaking your head and got comfortable, kicking your shoes off. You curled up against his side, trying to be aware of his bruises and sore spots. "Love you." You smiled, "I love you too." He talked to you until you fell asleep, holding you tightly to protect you from anything and everything.

[yuurivoice]

Laying in bed having a think.

As I try and tackle three intertwined (four? fuck) narrative stories more meticulously than I've crafted any of my narratives thus far, I find myself making several realizations.

BitterSweet is a product of me being at several mental low points but failing upwards. BitterSweet wasn't even intended to be a real narrative, but rather an introduction to Seth then sort of a choose you own adventure, listen to either "path" type thing. When the story revealed itself to me it was very exciting, but I was just going episode to episode and seeing where I'd end up.

Chapter 2 had more planning, a pretty defined outline, and was executed just about to perfection. I think 2 is probably the strongest in terms of knowing wtf was going on and seeing it through.

Chapter 3 is one I feel deeply conflicted about. Plans had to change on the fly multiple times. The scale got out of hand. I was on the struggle bus and only managed to write an episode two at once. It was a mess. We hit some high marks, and some of my favorite performances are in there, but there's this dark cloud over it for me. It's a shame, but it got done.

I can see really clearly how my struggle with my mental health, ADHD, etc. played significant roles in hindering me. So on one hand, I'm thrilled that I was able to make something cool that so many people appreciate and enjoy despite how challenging it was. On the other hand...there's a lot I wish could have been different.

Those wishes have informed many of the choices I'm making now as I tackle Shattered and Echoes, as well as BitterSweet and the unnamed thing. I'm not hitting the big red launch button until it is complete. I've never done that. But I want my writing to be tighter and more cohesive. I'm lucky that making shit up as I went and hitting the broader strokes I knew were there worked out as well as it did, but also I've tripped over myself a time or two.

As ambitious as I'm trying to be with weaving these stories, I want to make sure that when you step back and look at the big picture, it makes sense, but is also really fucking dope.

That's my hope.

This next batch of work is going to be special for me. I'm in my medicated era, but I'm working with a lot of the bones put in place by a version of me that was operating well below capacity.

Reading those first drafts I wrote last year was humbling. God they were bad. Frustratingly so because when I took a hammer to it, what I cooked up in significantly less time on the second draft was so much better than what felt like I had to pull teeth to accomplish before.

I try and tell myself not to look at all of my work through that lens of "I could have done so much better" but it's frustrating. I've gotta cook with the groceries that version of me brought home lol.

It boils down to this. When these next projects launch and the dust settles, I don't want to be glad it's over. When I finished BS3, I breathed a sigh of relief because it felt like I just got out of a year long brawl.

When I finish these projects, I want to be proud. I think that's the conclusion I reached. I was not proud of my work, because it was tainted with compromise and frustration that outside factors fucked with several aspects of it.

So I'm trying to prove to myself that I can do better than that. For myself. I've shaken off the frustration that I'm an entire year behind schedule. I've committed myself to completing it all before it sees the light of day. I've streamlined the process. I really tried to set myself up for success.

When I was struggling I'd cut every corner, I'd phone it in, I'd toss out ambitious ideas for the sake of just being able to call it done.

There's a lot less of that happening now. I'm able to at least try and hold myself to something resembling a standard. Now I just hope I can execute.

Thanks for reading. Sorry about all of whatever that was.

[phyrestartr]

Our Quiet Beginning | Miguel O'hara x Reader

# SFW, fluff, genderless reader, one-shot drabble, getting together, confessions, anti-climatic start to a relationship lol

Notes: Had this in my drafts and kinda wanted to just post it as-is! This is kind of a precursor/prologue to a different fic I'm poking at, so mayhaps there will be more in the future

--Our Quiet Beginning--

You remembered that first kiss. Every detail of that quiet moment etched into your very being, every touch left stained your heart with loving thoughts.

You were minding your business in your apartment, a shitty thing in the dark corner of the Bronx, puttering around and finally doing the housework you'd put off for too long. He'd come in through your window like he always did, and threw himself on the couch with a sigh.

"Tough day?" You asked with a yawn. You glanced at him over your built shoulder. He looked tired, maybe a bit pent up.

"Somethin' like that." He gazed over at you. "You didn't come to HQ today." Was that a pout on his face?

"Yeah." You walked towards him, arms folding over your chest. "Just one of those days, I guess." There was a reason you could try to give him, but you didn't want to destroy everything you had; Miguel O'hara was the last person standing from your history. He was the last tether you had to Nueva York, to this entire world.

"Yeah?" He asked anyway, voice hoarse and quiet.

"Yeah." You sat down beside him. He lolled his head against the back cushions of the couch to catch your gaze with his.

"I guess I've been lonely," you admitted.

He scoffed. "And hiding away in your apartment is a good way to remedy that?" Always so playful in his patronization. It brought familiar warmth to your chest, emboldening you.

"It's a good way to think, I guess." You stretched your legs across his lap. He hardly reacted.

"To think about what?"

"Everything."

"Oh, that's helpful."

"Yeah, I know." You graced him with the flicker of a smile before smothering the expression whole. You almost swore his body tensed for a fraction of a second.

"You...wanna enlighten me?" He prodded. His voice was lower, mingling with the jazzy bass of the music floating through your apartment. "I'm listening."

"Would you ever want to be with me?" You braved. It wasn't so scary to ask after all, save for the way your heart beat in your palms and in the back of your skull. "Or. Have you ever thought about trying?"

Miguel straightened up. His mouth hung open dumbly, his fangs peeking out from behind full lips. His claws, too, had burst from his fingers, getting him stuck in the fabric of the couch cushions. You almost felt bad, like you'd spooked a cat.

"I thought--you said--" he stammered and stumbled, trying to make words happen.

"It's yes or no, Miggs." You raised your brows, patiently impatient.

Miguel took a second to breathe. He hadn't been in the dating game for a long time. In fact, he'd stuck himself deep into the pining game, and refused to let himself go after you; everything he touched turned to ruin, and you had already glued yourself back together too many times. He couldn't stomach being your next cataclysm. He didn't want to think about losing you.

But how could he lie to you?

"Yeah," he mumbled, looking away. He busied himself with trying to relax and unhook his talons from your cushions.

You hummed softly. "Yeah."

Soft reds dusted his face and ears as he muttered under his breath, probably overwhelmed with being stuck and being needled. You figured you could make it worse.

Slowly, you leaned forward, resting your hand on his strong shoulder. You pressed into his space more, stopping when his surprised, wide gaze met yours. That dumb look came back, all of his charisma and poise gone with his words as your nose brushed his. You were so sure he could hear your heart hammering in your chest. You wanted him to.

"Yeah?" You murmured, seeking permission.

Miguel's expression relaxed, soothing into something sweet and soft when he glanced at your lips and back to your eyes.

"Yeah," he whispered back before closing the gap himself.

[south-of-heaven]

Cathy kelley x fem reader

Cathy and reader are dating but barley see eachother cuz of their different schedules,Reader has just joined smackdown and Cathy is interviewing her and Cathy keeps flirting with reader and making reader flustered and at the end of the interview they reveal their relationship by Cathy kissing reader in front of the camera

Turn of events || Cathy Kelley x Reader

Summary: Being drafted to SmackDown brought a lot of good things. But one is better than the rest.

The whirlwind of schedules and the demands of your respective careers had always made spending time together a challenge for you and Cathy. However, fate seemed to have a surprise in store as you were recently drafted to SmackDown, the same brand where Cathy was signed.

The first day on SmackDown brought a mix of excitement and nerves as you prepared for an interview with Cathy. As the cameras rolled, Cathy's professional demeanor quickly turned playful, her charming smile making your heart race.

She effortlessly flirted during the interview, causing you to blush and stumble over your words. But amidst the banter and teasing, there was a genuine connection, a familiarity that brought comfort and ease to the conversation.

At the end of the interview, Cathy leaned in slightly, a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, any special someone you'd like to share your success with?"

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, the playful tone dissipating as you looked at Cathy. With a smile tugging at your lips, you decided to let the world know.

"Yeah, actually I do."

A brief pause filled the air before Cathy's eyes widened in surprise, a genuine smile gracing her features. And then, without missing a beat, she leaned in and pressed a sweet, unexpected kiss on your lips, right in front of the camera.

The crew erupted in playful cheers and claps, and Cathy laughed, a hint of pink dusting her cheeks. But in that moment, the world faded away, and all that mattered was the warmth of Cathy's lips against yours, the confirmation of your love for each other shared with the world.

As the interview wrapped up and the cameras stopped rolling, Cathy turned to you, a mixture of happiness and excitement in her eyes. "Looks like we've got some explaining to do, huh?"

You both chuckled, feeling a sense of relief and joy at finally being able to share your relationship openly. The day had brought an unexpected turn of events, but it had also brought a sense of closeness and connection that you had missed in the midst of your busy lives.

With the weight of secrecy lifted, you looked forward to navigating this new chapter together, excited for the moments you'd now get to share, both in and out of the spotlight. And as you walked off set hand in hand, you knew that no matter the challenges, being together made it all worth it.

[vera-deville]

Vera's Hauntober 2023

Day 13 - Bat (Malleus Draconia)

10/14/2023

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Reader

Word Count: 870

Warnings: None that I can think of (except for a few curses)!

Gender: GN

Taglist: @animusicnerd, @leonistic, @pyroxeene, @savanaclaw1996, @thequeenoffishburrito, @ellssbellss, @reshi-galaxy, @hanafubukki, @hitoshislover, @purplecandything, @it-happened-one-fic

For once, Y/N had the time (and budget) to clean up their dorm. Ramshackle was in terrible shape. Everyone knew that.

But very few knew just how bad the living conditions could get. The first night Y/N went to sleep at Ramshackle, they'd cried themselves to sleep. There was a constant draft, they only had the clothes on their body from when they fell into the world, there were cobwebs everywhere, and their allergies had a field day.

Eventually though, it did get somewhat better. After raising concerns about their ability to survive in such conditions to multiple of the school faculty, they were able to make a room for themselves (plus it had an ensuite bathroom), and before they knew it, they didn't feel so lost and lonely anymore.

However...

That was no excuse for the rest of their dorm to remain as unsightly and dilapidated as it was. After months of doing odd jobs anywhere and everywhere, raising fundraisers, demanding payment from the headmaster for all the things he'd make them do, and a bunch of other things, Y/N finally had enough money to freshen up the whole place (plus the spring break they wished to utilize was finally here).

Of course, it was to be a process that would take a week at bare minimum, as Ramshackle, though in terrible condition, was a rather large dorm in and of itself. The first thing Y/N would have to do was dust the whole place down (they really regretted not asking Malleus to help them with that part in particular). Then, they'd have to move the boxes and whatnot and throw out whatever wasn't necessary anymore.

Grim was sent to Heartslabyul for the day, and Riddle had assured Y/N that he would take the utmost care of the very unwilling feline.

Thus, the first day of dusting (and some other cleaning) had gone by, and all that was left to finish cleaning were the attic rooms. It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Besides, they'd just have to pull through for a few more hours, after which they'd be joined by their four favorite boys from Diasomnia to help them.

"There you guys are!" Y/N, as the large box they were carrying was lifted out of their arms and into another's. They met with Malleus' face, one that exuded joy, before meeting with the others' faces. Lilia had his signature boyish smirk and Silver, though tired, did sport a gentle grin. Sebek wasn't looking at them (why would he when Malleus had entrusted him with a box), but that wasn't something that bothered them.

"I apologize for arriving so late Darling," Malleus responded.

"Nah, it's fine. I was doing fine by myself."

"Now that we are here, you will be more than fine!"

Lilia snorted off to the side.

To reward everyone for all their hard work and to show their appreciation, Y/N made some cool lemonade (their own personal recipe) and brought it up to the attic, where they last left everyone.

Except there was no one there.

Figuring that they'd all gone out of the room to either get rid of or retrieve something, Y/N leaned to place the tray of lemonade on a resting box. But there was this feeling that kept nagging at them. It felt like someone was watching them. Holding the tray back closer to their chest, Y/N looked around the room, out the window, and out the room's door. There wasn't a soul in sight apart from them.

Trying to shrug the unmistakable feeling, they turned around, walking towards the box to set down the lemonade (that was starting to take a toll on their arms from carrying around for so long).

And that's when they heard it.

A chitter.

Everything happened so fast after that.

One second, they turn their head towards the clearly animal sound, intent on finding the source, when a black flash flew straight at their face. They could have sworn that the thing had red eyes, but that wasn't Y/N's priority, as they were currently falling in slow motion, backwards, with the lemonade tilting towards their direction.

Shit.

The crash seemed to bring everyone back to life, because soon after it occurred, Malleus, Silver, and Sebek were bolting it towards the source of it, only to find Y/N laying on the ground, drenched in some liquid.

That and Lilia sitting next to their face in his bat form, poking their face.

Malleus wasted no time in cradling Y/N under his arms and shaking them out of whatever shock they were in. "Darling? Darling! Wake up!"

Sebek leaned on the other side of Y/N with a towel and started helping them dry off.

"I just saw a demon."

Silver couldn't help but let out a giggle, hearing the Ramshackle prefect say such a thing.

"That was just Father."

Confused, Y/N looked at him for an explanation. Yet, there was none. Silver simply pointed behind them, and that's when they noticed the bat. Something about it seemed eerily familiar, and that's when it hit them.

Red eyes.

Yeah, they were so going to kill Lilia.

Author's Note: You're gonna pretend that this fic totally wasn't a day late got it? 👀

Also, it should not have been as hard as it was finding a bat header-

See you in the next fic!

Masterlist Hauntober 2023 Masterlist

[afiniteredwood]

Self-indulgent angsty fanfiction for @hybbart 's Ranchers Apocalypse AU :) I haven't stopped thinking about these guys for a solid month. The number of things I had to change after the first draft because I read the Notes Posts is incredible so don't hesitate to mention if I messed up the details somewhere

(Meet Me In The Woods by Lord Huron)

Day 543

Sleeping next to Jimmy objectively sucks.

Don't get Tango wrong- Jimmy is wonderful, a sleepy hugger and a furnace of a man, and Tango is never cold during the winter months. And, mostly, he doesn't have nightmares and doesn't talk in his sleep and Tango knows that he does that. Really, Jimmy has it worse. 

But Jimmy is also all ruffled feathers and whimpered noises brought on by elbowed and healing wounds, and the click-fssssssss of the breathing machine, only worsened after his recent battle with pneumonia. It becomes hard to breathe next to him, the farm dust once trapped in Jimmy’s wings clouding into the air whenever he rolls and the regular rumbling of the machine instilling preemptive terror in Tango’s stomach.

Still, on most nights, it is entirely bearable. Tango sleeps. On the days when he does sleep, he sleeps like the still-dead, and on the days where he doesn’t it’s because of the nightmares or the fact he has pointedly not taken his metal arm off, not because of Jimmy.

He always dreams of blood on his hands, spilling in rivulets down his clammy skin. Not what has happened to them, not what could happen, just blood. It’s probably Jimmy’s. 

So when, two hours after he had bade ‘Goodnight’ to the bedroom already full of the sound of Jimmy’s even breathing, he gets up and sneaks out again, it is an unusual thing. Revy notices his loss, curled up at the end of the bed, raising his head once and whining. Tango shuts the door softly on him. Revy returns his head to Jimmy’s thigh.

Yellow eyes open in the muted dark.

Tango’s sneaking isn’t particularly effective. (It terrifies him a little, how easy it would be for one of the undead to kill him now.) He’s so tired he feels like he could pass out at any second, and really, the creaking of the farmhouse with every gentle gust of wind is more than Tango will ever be able to unsubtly make. 

He makes it to the bottom floor, following the moonlight marking a square of light up the stairs from the glass patio doors to his feet. Spring is still only a dream, so the floor is cold beneath him, and he stands on tip-toes to stumble towards the doors. Something wants him out there- something about being one with nature, of just being able to sit and breathe and relax for a blissfully freezing moment. 

Opening the door is difficult with fingers numb from cold on one hand and metal fingers clicking ineffectively over the lock on the other, but he manages. Shit, but it takes him ages though, trying awkwardly to turn the key in the lock with his flesh-and-blood hand and using his other hand crossed over to turn the handle even though the angle hurts. It’s fine. He’s capable of doing whatever needs doing. 

He continues unsteadily outwards, dropping down to sit on the edge of the patio when he reaches it, legs dangling in the empty space below him. The forest is spread out in front of him, the house backing directly onto the wildlife that before-the-apocalypse had never allowed him. Quiet. If the apocalypse has done anything good, it has brought silence. It’s too early in the morning yet for birds, but there is wind through the trees and the sleepy mooing of distant cows and the even more distant, barely audible and mostly harmonious groans of the undead. 

He hooks one leg back up onto the patio and hugs it against his chest, resting his chin on his knee. 

It should be colder than this, really, but it is an exceptionally early spring this year. Already the ground is beginning to thaw during the day and the old seeds in the tool shed have started to smell damp and earthy again. At night and this early in the morning, it is still bitterly cold, but it's not quite as cold as it should be- not quite.

Tango exhales and his breath crystalizes in the air in front of his face. He shivers in his t-shirt and hugs his knee tighter and thinks of Jimmy. 

Jimmy stands at the top of the stairs and wonders what he must have done in a past life to deserve Tango. Something great, surely- he must have been a hero.

There is a certain sharp beauty to the way that Tango is outlined against the darkness with his blue fire and sparks that makes Jimmy think of gods he doesn’t believe in. He’s just sitting there, shivering and exhaling stars, and he looks so entirely ethereal doing it. Totally silent, just the regular hum of his breathing that Jimmy can only see from this distance, beautifully poised, like a beast that Jimmy could startle into bolting at any moment. 

But he carries the same inherent fear in him as wild animals do, and Jimmy frowns. Tango is never usually scared- not how he is now, hunched in on himself with one hand gripping the deck in the way that only Jimmy can see the tension in. He is only ever on edge, only ever afraid for someone else, only ever worried when there is genuine danger on the horizon. 

Jimmy takes a step closer, down the stairs, grimacing at the noise it makes. Tango does nothing, so he shakes his wings gently and cracks his knuckles and breathes louder through his mouth than he usually does in an attempt to not scare Tango out of his skin when he makes his presence known. Nothing.

He abandons any subtlety and follows Tango’s elongated shadow to the open doors, quiet regardless of how much he tries not to be. The doorframe is cold underneath his fingertips. 

Tango might be crying- he’s not sure. Noise outlines him in gold and cyan and it ripples with every breath, peaking at weird times that could be from tears or could just be the wind around the collar of his shirt. Jimmy’s almost too scared to ask- does he really want to know why Tango is crying? Why he’s scared? Why he’s hanging onto the back porch of the house Jimmy found for them like he’s fighting the urge to slip down and run away forever?

Yes, Jimmy decides. Yes, he does want to know. 

“Tango?” that voice says from the doorway, soft as anything. “Are you working on something?”

Tango does his absolute best not to jump, but he’s pretty sure that Jimmy notices anyway. He shakes his head to dissolve the tension in his frozen muscles, turning only slightly to look at Jimmy’s shadow’s head. He wipes his tears on the back of his hand entirely unsubtly. 

“No,” he admits, an invitation bare and raw in his voice. “Not really.”

Jimmy’s exhale casts a faint shadow next to his face in his image on the deck, pluming outwards from where his mouth must be. Jimmy has always had a fun shadow, Tango notices absently- deformed up around his shoulders where he isn’t really, his wings held awkwardly up against the cold. It really does make Jimmy look strange, like some kind of monster, shifting and growing- Jimmy drops down beside him, leaning defiantly back on the heels of his hands and looking up at the sky. 

Tango swallows his heart and looks at the ground, where he’s sure he won’t see Jimmy’s face. Whatever, Jimmy has a face like a deity incarnated into the body of someone who has known what love is, whatever. There are plenty of those around, plenty of people who make him want to hide himself away because all his fire and grace pale in comparison to the solid humanity of the man next to him. 

“What’s on your mind?” Jimmy asks, before the silence swallows them both. 

“Nothing,” Tango says, his eyes on the ground, the tone of his voice meaning ‘Ask me again and I’ll tell you about how I don’t think I ever made my mother proud, and how she’s probably dead now so I’ll never get to know whether I did. Ask that question again and I’ll tell you how there is so little left of her in the world, and how little there was of her when we lived together, and how there was so much more I could’ve done for her that I never did and will never get to do. Ask me again and I’ll tell you that I regret every decision I’ve made since the end of the world, even in and with you and guided by your hand.’

A gust of wind through the trees and a bird coos softly into the open air. 

“Tell me,” Jimmy says anyway, face half-turned to catch the sharp moonlight and to try to meet Tango’s eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

The dog comes pattering out from the house behind them, having followed a few minutes after Jimmy. He shakes himself all over and grunts, then settles down between the two of them and noses at Tango’s hand until Tango gives in and pets him. 

“Big man,” Tango says, smiling, avoiding the question. “Big shake- oh he wants some scritchies, does he?”

Jimmy frowns at him, but pets Revy too all the same. 

“Tango.”

Tango sighs and cannot bring himself to look at Jimmy. Instead, he finds himself looking outwards, at the forest from which one of the undead stragglers could emerge at any time and they would never be prepared in time to defend themselves. 

“Don’t you ever feel like you’re running on borrowed time?” he asks the forest, voice quiet and careful. 

Jimmy says, “No!” and laughs with such ferocity that it startles Tango into looking at him. Revy leaps up at the sound and jumps and dances around them, barking in the ‘play with me!’ manner that all dogs do when the air around them is happy. 

Shit- Tango remembers why he had known it would be a bad idea from the beginning to look. 

With his head thrown back and hair tangled around his ears, moonlight catching on his throat and on the fragments of glass and sand still in his wings, Jimmy looks every bit the picture of brilliance. Whatever god has possessed him has made him beautiful, has made the night split about him and the sun spill from his eyes when he opens them to look back at Tango. 

Tango’s not sure what face he’s making. Something just short of shock, no doubt- genuine affection blooming in his chest and sneaking onto his face along with this new sort of amazement. He feels himself smile and Jimmy's genuine happiness is so damn contagious that he can't help it even if he doesn't mean the emotion behind the smile. It’s just such a strange reaction, and so much more so from someone like Jimmy-

“Why are you laughing?” he still has to ask, even as Jimmy is still giggling into his hands. “Jimmy?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimmy amends, tears in his eyes. “I just- you feel that way?”

Tango has to look back into the distance. Yes. 

“Yeah.”

Jimmy has no joy in him anymore. 

“Oh- I- sorry.” He swallows and returns his hands to the dog, who has fallen back onto the deck with her belly in the air. “Tell me. What do you mean?”

Tango sighs. This was meant to be an emotion dealt with alone.

“You know,” he starts, before realizing how clearly Jimmy does not know. “I mean- we’re still just running from the end of the world. We’re never really going to be safe, are we? We’re always going to be living like this.”

Jimmy tries and fails to not take that comment to heart. Like this- like what? Trapped oh-so-cruelly in the house he had chosen for them, bound by the land nourished by their own hands and the burden of the animals they have given hope to with their presence? Oh, what a truly horrible fate it is, to have to live with one’s friends and family in the countryside. 

“You don’t…” Jimmy casts around for words that won’t come out sour and hurtful. “You don’t want to live like this?”

Something in his tone catches Tango’s attention (maybe it’s the betrayal squirming just beneath his skin) and he looks up. 

“I don’t want to live during an apocalypse, Jimmy. I don’t want to be in danger. I don't like being scared all the time.” 

Oh. Understandable, but-

“We’re not in danger now, are we?” 

Tango frowns at him. “That’s not the point-”

“No, but….” He hesitates. “I don’t know. I don’t think we’re running out of time.” That’s not what I said. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, Tango- a farm and a family and a dog and freedom and, you know, what we have.”

“No- not that we’re running out of time.” Something grips Tango and he wants to say things that he’ll regret. “We’re running on borrowed time. It’s going to catch up to us eventually.”

Jimmy laughs. “Same thing, really.”

Tango shakes his head but it doesn’t matter anyway because Jimmy isn’t looking at him anymore. Instead, he stretches out and lies back on the deck, feet still dangling over the edge, wings crushed beneath him, looking at the sky. Revy squeaks and wiggles over to sit next to him, planting his face on Jimmy’s chest. 

“We’ll take whatever comes to us, Tango,” he says, somehow with so much calm certainty that it’s almost convincing. “No matter what. We’re going to be okay.”

Tango wonders whether that’s a lie.

“Okay,” he says instead of asking whether it is. “Okay. Okay. Yeah.”

Jimmy glances over at him. There’s nothing but uncertainty in Tango’s self-reassurance.

“Trust me.” Jimmy reaches out to touch whatever part of Tango he can reach- his upturned palm on the deck between them, the metal of it cold. “Tango. Trust me. We’ll get through this.”

Tango’s hand twitches towards the space where his other arm should be and he chokes on a pained whimper- shit, fuck, losing a limb shouldn’t keep hurting after it’s gone. Revy’s ragged tail wags between them in his almost-sleep.

“Okay.” 

Sensing the lack of conviction in Tangos’ voice, Jimmy grabs Tango’s arm and tugs him to lie down next to him- well, as close as they can get with the dog snuggled into the little space between them. Tango has never been so uncomfortable in his entire life. He doesn’t move. 

“Tango,” Jimmy says, rolling onto his side to take Tango’s face in both of his warm hands. “I promise. We’re going to be okay.”

Tango doesn’t mean to, but he’s crying again, so Jimmy clambers over the dog to crush Tango in an embrace, tucking him close to his chest. Tango struggles closer still, sobbing into Jimmy’s shirt as he clutches onto it. 

Jimmy hushes him, rubbing his back in circles. His every breath sounds that little bit more laboured with the air spilling out from the cannula, and Tango’s metal arm is stabbing him in the side.

“We’ll be okay,” he whispers. Tango nods furiously, desperately. Jimmy is briefly glad that Tango’s fire does not catch on other people. “We’re going to be alright.”

Tango makes a choked noise and manages, “We’re going to be okay,” his voice watery and sharp with tears. 

Jimmy half-smiles, continuing to rub circles onto Tango’s back. Revy pokes him in the shoulder with his nose and curls up again near Tango’s head. Tango’s whole body shakes with every sob. 

“We’re going to be okay,” Jimmy reiterates quietly. “I’ve got you, Tango. We’re going to be okay.”

[goatgoatgoat7778]

I really don’t know why I have such an infatuation with this character lol. I haven’t felt confident in my art or writing in a while but I tried I guess. This did end up twice as long as the rough draft and I also have a second pic sketched out (the Railgunner needs love too, after all) so no one can say I didn’t try!!! Jus ignore how sketchy the pic is X’D

On another note, I have a test coming up with a LOT of vocab so maybe that’ll get me to write more. If you have any ideas/prompts for a story, you can send them to me; it might help spur some inspiration since I don’t really have any ideas atm.

Contains: Women-centric hunger kink, animals killed for food (not graphic though), one character briefly implies that guns are cool (If you want to skip these last two, stop reading after they get to Rallypoint Delta)

The first hour after she dropped from UES Safe Travels were difficult for the Huntress. She woke up late and missed the shuttle she was supposed to travel on, so she took an individual drop pod. Her descent into the atmosphere was turbulent, and her pod landed upside-down.Even worse, she landed far from her squad, alone on a dark foggy mountain side surrounded by monsters. Alone, at least until she ran into the Railgunner a few hours later, who was more than happy to team up with her. Things had been going well as they traveled but now, 72 hours later, the Huntress was starting to run on fumes. She raised her bow, arms wavering, aiming at a wisp about to fire at the Railgunner. Before she could release her bow, the Railgunner gracefully whipped around and shot it square in the middle, killing it instantly.

“You alright?” the Railgunner questioned as she brushed off the dust on her pants. “You’ve been a bit slow lately.”

The Huntress sighed, “Yeah, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get to the next teleporter.” Suddenly her stomach shook hungrily, and she brought a hand to it. She hoped the Railgunner couldn’t hear it growl. Back in her earlier years as a huntress, it was well known by her confreres that her stomach was so noisy and active it could easily give her position away- the fact that she was still one of the best in her profession regardless was seen as a testament to her skill. She sucked in her gut, as she often did when out on a hunt, to try and dampen the noise.

Part of her wanted to ask the Railgunner if she had any food to spare. Due to her lack of preparation before dropping onto the alien planet, she had run out of her rations on day one. The Railgunner had seemingly come prepared, so the Huntress felt it would be inappropriate to ask that her incompetence be covered. Surely she would find food eventually. She just had to wait it out. 

Two different pathways in the aqueduct appeared before them, both sprawled with chests carrying items necessary for their survival. “Split up?” the Railgunner asked rhetorically. 

The Huntress nodded and they parted ways. Her stomach began to churn and rumble once again and it seemed to echo across the rocky chasms of the dried aqueduct. At least she no longer had to actively hide it from her partner, and could focus on fighting and looting. With each chest she opened her stomach twisted in disappointment. A crowbar, backup magazine, and a medkit. Useful, but inedible. The energy drink she found seemed promising at the time, but it only caused her stomach to roil and gurgle even more intensely than before, irritated that it was filled but somehow still hungry. “What do you want from me?” she whined, resting a hand on her sunken-in tummy. 

 There was little time for rest though, because in the distance she saw the Railgunner waving her down having found the teleporter. She pushed down on her stomach.“You better stay quiet, or else!” she threatened. Her stomach gave a soft grumble of what she hoped was compliance. 

Once she caught up to the Railgunner they activated the teleporter, summoning the Beetle Queen. Together, they took her and her beetle guards out quick and easy but the Huntress was enervated from hunger and when the teleporter was fully charged, she practically collapsed. 

“Are you okay?” the Railgunner asked, trying to hide the worry in her voice.

“Just need a break,” the Huntress replied casually. A long drawn-out groan evinced the cause of her fatigue. 

Grrrrooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrwwwwwwwlllllllllllllllllllllllllllll

The Huntress’s face flushed beneath her helmet as the Railgunner cocked her head. “Was that your stomach?”

“Um, maybe?” Her stomach gave another belligerent grumble through her thin skinsuit, ensuring she could no longer deny its needs any more.

“Yeesh, I swear I saw your belly moving that time. When was the last time you ate?!”

The Huntress awkwardly fiddled with her fingers. “I, uh, ran out of food a couple days ago. Overslept, not enough time to pack.”

“Well why didn’t you-?! Nevermind. Here.” The Railgunner tossed her a protein bar. “Nothing special, but it should tide you over for a while.”

“Thanks,” the Huntress said as she devoured it greedily. Her stomach gave a small grumble with dissatisfaction, barely filled. She gave her ungrateful tummy a pat before they moved on through the teleporter. 

The teleporter took them to the abandoned camp Rallypoint Delta. After the two trudged through the snow for a while, they took a break for the night inside one of the forlorn cargo containers and huddled together. They were nowhere near freezing, but the close contact made them both more comfortable, though neither would outwardly admit it. 

“If I’d known we’d be taken to a frozen wasteland, I would have stayed back in the other place.” The Huntress shuddered, pushing herself closer to the Railgunner. 

“Mmhmm,” the Railgunner replied sleepily. 

Through the sound of icy wind blowing outside, the Huntress heard a noise. She readied her glaive just in case it was a new monster, but put it down when she heard the sound again.

Grooooooouuuuuuuuwwwwrrrrrrr

Hungry as she was, she knew it hadn’t been her this time. Gently she placed her hand against the Railgunner’s belly, hoping not to disturb her from her rest. She felt her stomach churning and grumbling beneath her rib cage. Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen the Railgunner eat anything since they were at the aqueduct. Perhaps that protein bar had been the last of her rations. She pressed down in the crook of the Railgunner’s rib cage, inadvertently pushing a few grumbles out past her fingers. It was clear how painfully empty she was. 

The Railgunner, who’d been awake the whole time, hitched her breath. It was hard to keep up her cool, enigmatic facade with a growling stomach. More difficult still would be to admit that she liked the feeling of a hand assuaging her hunger pangs. Stupid pride. She crossed her arms.

The Huntress could tell she was abashed and tried to reassure her. “Hey, it’s alright. If anyone makes stomach noises cool, it’s you!”

“Well with a gun this big, there’s no way I can’t be cool.” she joked. “But… thanks.” The warm moment was short lived as a massive hunger pang rippled through her middle. She winced. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep like this. Maybe we should just keep exploring. I think we can handle it.”

“I know we can handle it,” the Huntress replied, pulling her up.

The two crept quietly through the dark and found that the camp was mostly devoid of useful items. They hoped it had been picked over by the survivors who they got split up from during the drop; maybe they were close by, and maybe they had food! But for now they were stuck with empty bellies and a long road ahead. 

“Shh! Look!” the Huntress whispered under her breath, pulling the Railgunner behind a rock. Peeking over the corner, the Railgunner could see a herd of unsuspecting bison. “How does some steak sound?”

The Railgunner’s mouth watered and she felt a large growl building up in her core. She pressed her arms into her gut and bent over to try and stifle it, but it was too little too late.

Grrroroooooooaaaaaarrrorooooooorrrrrrrrwwwwwwwrrrrrrrrgggggggrgllllllllllllllllllllleeee

Suddenly the bisons’ heads shot up and they looked directly at the rock they were hiding behind. They began to charge. Quick as lightning, the Huntress threw her glaives. The bison fell one by one as the glaives bounced between them. She wiped her brow. “Thank god for the stuff I found in the aqueduct. We could’ve been goners!”

“Now lies the issue of cooking it…” the Railgunner replied. She held up a container of gasoline. “I have this, though.”

“I mean… is that even safe?”

Both womens’ stomachs gave deep aching growls.

The Huntress shook her head. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers I guess.”

[astaroth1357]

Proposing to Simeon

I found this sitting in my old drafts and it felt too good to let gather more dust.

It'd be plain to say that the MC was nervous… so incredibly nervous.

Simeon loved them, they had no doubt about that, but despite their feelings there was always an unspoken distance in their relationship…

He was an angel, a being of pure grace, and the MC was a lowly human… So many things about their love brought up questions… Was it permissible? Are they breaking any rules? Did they even deserve him...?

Some of these questions don't have clear answers and the MC was too scared to ask anyway… But they loved Simeon desperately with all their heart and soul. They couldn't imagine a day without him…

Despite their worries and their fears… they knew that they wanted him to know that. They wanted to make it official!

When they got to Purgatory Hall, Simeon was in his room toiling away at another draft. They could tell it was giving him some trouble, but he greeted them with a smile nonetheless…

No matter how busy or frustrated he was, he could always make time for them. Just another one of his angelic qualities, of course.

Simeon: "MC! What brings you here?"

He had to turn his desk chair to face them directly, but when he did they could tell he knew something was wrong… In truth, MC wasn't really hiding their nerves all that well and it didn't take anyone particularly empathic to know that.

Simeon: "Is something wrong?"

His worry was clearly evident in his voice as he got up to hold them immediately. Though the MC would usually never begrudge their angel's speedy reaction to their discomfort, they had to take a step back from him when he tried to approach them in the doorway...

Of all the times for him to act so perfect… Should they even be trying this?

MC: "Uhm… Simeon? Can I have a minute? I have a question to ask…"

They could see that he was stunned, and maybe a little hurt, from their sudden withdrawal from his arms but he didn't make a move to stop them.

Simeon: "I… Yes, of course… What is it?"

Given the go ahead, and knowing it's now or never, the MC hung their head to speak.

MC: "I've been wanting to say that… I… I've been so happy with you, Simeon. And I know that doesn't sound like much, but I mean it. Every day with you has felt better than the last but I feel so selfish because I know what kind of problems that I cause for you and I just-!"

A gloved finger softly silenced their rambling before tilting their head back up to look into their angel's eyes, warm with admiration and love.

Simeon: "I've told you before, my love, that none of that troubles me… I'll be here for you today just as much as I will be tomorrow and anyday after that."

MC: "... Really? 'Anyday'...?"

Simeon blinked, caught off guard yet again by the question, but nodded affirmatively.

Simeon: "Yes, that's what I just said…"

MC: "Well, how's about 'every day' instead? 'Till death do us part..?"

Reaching into their pocket, they finally pulled out the source of their hesitation all evening… A little white velvet box so small that it could only hold one thing and both of them knew it.

For the first time ever, the MC saw their angel pale somewhat at the sight of it - like he was witnessing a nightmare - and they felt an instant pange of regret. They shouldn't have tried this, it was much too soon!

Before they could hide the jewelry box away again, Simeon's hand took it from theirs with all the reverence of a priceless artifact… They watched quietly as he held it in his palm then, eyes glistening with tears, brought it close to his chest.

He didn't respond to their question, perhaps he couldn't or maybe just shouldn't, but he didn't need to anyway. They knew from his smile, his beautiful, honored smile, that they had their answer.

Now if they just had his Dad's blessing...

[artist-emerald]

Trolls 4 Idea 1 rough draft/outline

(reposting so it actually shows up)

Movie starts with scrapbook story narration of (important plot device characters) and (important plot device item)

Branch and Poppy having been having trouble figuring out how to propose to one another, thinking that their grand gestures aren't grand enough

Said story at beginning is brought up again, and both get the idea to find (important plot device item) to use as a proposal gift

Neither one knows this is the plan

(Villain overhears both plans and decides to follow them)

They decide to go off on a grand adventure, just the two of them, seeing old and new friends along the way

All the while topics of the future and settling down keep being brought up, bringing up emotions of doubt and anxiety to the two

As Branch and Poppy get close to their destination, the two are physically separated and are forced to move forward on separate paths

The (villain) uses this opportunity to distill more fear and anxiety into the two in order to acquire (important plot device item) before they do

(Villain) disguises self as old hermit and Guardian of (plot device item) and trick the couple into getting it for them, to which they get the two to begin arguing in order to steal it

(Villain) reveals themselves to be (one of the two important plot device character from the beginning story) and wants the (important plot device item) for revenge

One of the couple gets hurt in the process

The two have a heart to heart reconciliation moment before the one who was hurt fades into glitter dust

The survivor calls upon all their friends to help stop the (villain)

Perished hero finds themselves in an unfamiliar setting with (the other important plot device character from the story)

Life lessons imposed

Climactic battle ensues as the perished hero returns

(Villain) is defeated (probably explodes)

Poppy and Branch reunite, express their love, finally propose

Wedding

Credits

Weird Al is there, as either a character or just as his literal self (which I think would be way funnier)

[howlingday]

Assuming Godzilla didn’t do so in Argus, when did he first use his Atomic breath?

Honestly, I'm still kinda debating on whether or not he used his atomic breath on the Leviathan. I don't have any plans for future kaiju-sized Grimm, so it would make sense for him to use his atomic breath against it. But I also don't want to cheapen it as a "Oh, he can just finish the fight from the start" or something. I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinking this...

Okay, how about this? I'll describe what Godzilla probably did during the fight, and if it doesn't sound good, then it'll just be a first draft and we'll work from there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so Godzilla V. Leviathan takes place after the Colossus is out of commission, with Caroline Cordovin laying there defeated, expecting a death blow. Instead, the Leviathan crawls from the sea where Godzilla entered Argus from, since he took out the hard-light wall protecting the city. It'll grab hold of his tail and try to drag him into the water. Angered by this, Godzilla tugs his tail to shore, in a sort of tug-of-war with the Grimm.

With one final yank, the Leviathan lands ashore in the residential district. Rolling off the ground and crushing a few houses doing so, the Grimm stands and lets out a roar to intimidate Godzilla. Not threatened in the slightest, Godzilla gives a roar back and charges at the Leviathan. They crash together, booming like an explosion. There, it's an exchange of claws.

As the Schnee Dust Company and Atlas Military coordinate to evacuate the civilians to safety, Jacques Schnee stares out at the carnage he brought forth. It shakes something in him, especially while the two titans duke it out in the middle of the city. Willow keeps tugging on his arm before choosing instead to evacuate her son to safety with her and Winter. General Ironwood barks orders to his men, then approaches Jacques. The two then watch in horror as more and more destruction occurs. Never before had either man felt so helpless.

Meanwhile, down below, the Leviathan snaps Godzilla's arm in its jaw, attempting to rip it off and also tries to dig its massive claws into Godzilla's hide. Godzilla is too tough for the Grimm and reaches forward to bite the massive fin on the Grimm's spine. It shrieks out in pain, letting go of Godzilla and pushing away to safety. It then tackles Godzilla, using its greater size to try pushing him to the water, where the Leviathan holds the advantage (or what it assumes is the advantage).

Tripping over something (not sure if it's a barricade between the wharf and the sea or something more feasibly sturdy), Godzilla falls into the water, with the Grimm holding it down as it swims deeper into the water. There is a faint light that grows dimmer and dimmer. Minutes feel like years as the audience watch with bated breath as the battle becomes unseen.

General Ironwood steps away to inform his men that the monsters have taken to the sea and that all seacraft should dock at the nearest port that isn't Argus. Once confirmed, Jacques finally speaks, and it's with words of regret. Had he known that this would have happened, he wouldn't have pushed for the project to be restarted. The general says, "Save the regret for after you stand trial" explaining that he intends to press legal charges against him that will hold him accountable for the destruction of Argus. At this, Jacques regains his fight as he snarls and warns that if he tries, he'll counter-sue to pin the blame on the general and his military for being too weak to stop the project, and even has documents proving that the military also funded the project.

This bickering was ended by an explosion from the water. Looking down, they see the Leviathan crawling onto the shore. At this, both men are silent, though their fear was still palpable. It eyes them both with its banefully red eyes. It digs it's claws into the outpost wall, attempting to climb to reach the men. General Ironwood reaches for his gun, ready to shatter the window to try a final attempt to kill the Grimm. Jacques shouts at him, saying "If that monster couldn't kill him, what makes you think you can?!" General Ironwood replies, "Even if I die, at least I'll die fighting it instead of screaming like a coward."

As the Leviathan digs its claw into the outpost again, it's knocked down by a dust-encased tail to its torso. Yelping in pain, it falls onto its back, its spinal frill trapped in the ground (or something better, maybe?). Godzilla steps closer, glaring down at the Grimm. It roars in defiance.

Suddenly, its tail starts glowing a dim light, glowing brighter and brighter until it's all white (or maybe black, since it's all colors?). The dust further up the tail did the same, as did the ones on his legs, arms and back. They not only shine, but they also extend from his body as well. The crystals shine brighter and brighter until they become blinding. Then the dust sinks into his body, and Godzilla opens his mouth at the Leviathan, unleashing its "atomic breath" at the Grimm. It screams in agony until all that's left is scorching earth.

As the ash fades away, Godzilla looks to the outpost, where the Grimm had been climbing. At the top, he sees two humans and one of them is armed. General Ironwood holsters his gun, and Godzilla lets out a grumble. He then retreats to the sea, sinking beneath the waves almost instantly.

The people of Argus and Atlas survived... for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What do you guys think? Good? Bad? Some way to make it better? Please let me know!

[bvcky-brns]

That Would Be Enough

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader, Established Relationship

Rating: Explicit; minors DNI

Advisory: Smut, PIV sex, oral (f receiving), near death experience, mostly smut with a dash of hurt/comfort I think

Word Count: 2,000

Notes: I've been sitting on this one in drafts for a while and finally decided to finish it and publish. It's the first smut I've ever posted. I wrote most of it after watching TBoBF finale; I have no excuses, I'm all hot and bothered and also angsty over my tin can husband.

Din had been fidgety since you’d returned to the palace. He couldn’t keep himself away from you, maintaining closeness and contact with your body however he could. Gloved fingers grazed your midsection as he passed by you, shoulders angled your direction while debriefing with Boba and Fennec, as if you were his center of gravity and he was powerless to stop the pull of his body toward your own.

You recognized the behavior, it’s how he always acts after a difficult hunt, the ones that remind him of his own mortality. His beskar-clad body tense and full of energy with nowhere to divert it, until business is taken care of and he’s able to get his hands on you. 

You felt the same adrenaline, thrumming and flowing through your veins, but it was muted by the relief of knowing Din is alive and unharmed and the joy of having your foundling - your son - back with you. You busied your hands distributing bacta and medpacks to the villagers of Freetown, your sweet little boy wrapped to your chest, snoozing away the exhaustion of calming the rancor. 

That damned rancor. When Din hit the ground and didn’t get up, your heart crashed into your stomach. Your feet were rooted to the ground in shock, silently begging and pleading for him to rise, to move, to give you any indication at all that he was still breathing. You didn’t even notice the kid had given Peli the slip until you heard her cry out for him, whipping your head around to see him gone, then turning again to see his tiny hands outstretched toward the beast that may or may not have just killed Din. 

Panic surged, and you’re pretty sure a yelp tore itself from your throat, but you can’t remember. Then it was over in the blink of an eye, the rancor calmed, and your tiny little gremlin curled up next to it as if it were as docile as a tooka cat. 

Everything that happened after that was a blur for you. Din rose to his feet, sending a sharp stab of relief through your entire body, and picked up your boy, depositing him in your arms as you shakily rose to your feet. He’d all too briefly pressed his helmet against your forehead, holding you close for a precious second. That much you remember, the rest was lost in the dust and the rubble of Mos Espa.

Now that the shock of it all was starting to wear off, the adrenaline of having almost lost your reunited little clan of three was sinking in and setting your body on fire. You could feel your nervous system screaming, your heart pounding in your chest underneath the sleeping baby as Din finally walked toward you. 

“Hey. Leave the kid with Peli, let’s go get cleaned up, okay?”

All you could do was nod dumbly, making your way to Peli and depositing Grogu with a word of thanks, and watched for just a moment as she snuggled him close, despite her grumbling about not being free childcare.

Din led you upstairs, his hand resting between your shoulder blades as he guided you through the halls toward the quarters Boba had prepared for the two of you. You still had first aid supplies clutched in your hands, not knowing what sort of scrapes or bruises he’d sustained in battle, reeling from the mental image of him lying motionless on the ground. 

When you reached your rooms, you toed out of your boots and crossed the room in bare feet, laying out the supplies you’d brought on the bathroom counter. You heard Din close the door behind him, followed by the sounds of his armor and weapons being removed piece by piece.

You felt rather than heard him come up behind you, his strong arms circling your waist and you noticed that he’d removed his shirt along with his armor. The heat of his bare skin at your back made your heart thrum steadily, grounding you and reminding you that you both survived another day. 

“You were amazing today, mesh’la.” 

You turned to face him and opened your mouth to reply but you were cut short when Din crushed his mouth to yours. 

He wasted no time hooking his strong hands under your thighs, lifting you up and setting you on the counter, never letting his lips leave yours, your arms automatically circling his shoulders to hold yourself steady. 

His hips created a tantalizing pressure between your legs, forcing them apart as he stepped closer. He buried his face buried in your neck, whispering mumbled words of praise between open-mouthed kisses, soliciting a whimper from you. 

Hands on either side of his face, you dragged his lips to meet yours in a desperate kiss as he unconsciously pulled your hips into his, both of you groaning as his growing erection ground into your clothed sex. 

Every sign of life you felt in his body spurred you on. His heavy, needy breaths on your throat, his pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips, the warmth of his hands as they slid underneath your shirt, your own pulse quickening as he squeezed your breasts. He made sure to roll each of your nipples between his fingertips for a moment before continuing his ascent, lifting your shirt up over your head and tossing it away. 

You groaned as his lips collided with yours roughly and dug your fingers into his hair. Nothing about this was soft; the way you met each other was urgent. Desperate. His hands slid down your back, cupping your ass and lifting you up. Your legs automatically tightened around his lower back, pulling his hips flush to yours as he crossed the room in long strides toward the bed, carrying you effortlessly.

Din covered your body with his, not so subtly grinding his half-hard cock exactly where you needed to feel him most. His mouth greedily kissing and biting at your neck as you raked your nails down his back, answering each well-placed nip with a breathy moan and a roll of your hips. 

He worked his way down, kissing and sucking and biting the whole way as if he were devouring you. When he reached the waistband of your leggings, he pulled them down along with your underwear, kissing down your hips and your thighs as he went. He stood to free your legs and removed the rest of his own clothes, giving his cock a couple of firm strokes with his hand before kneeling back down between your thighs and pulling your legs over his shoulders. 

You whined and rolled your hips, desperate for something, anything. His grip on your legs tightened in response, spreading you further as he finally licked a hot, wet stripe up your center, making you cry out. You threaded your hands into his hair and tugged, earning a throaty moan from Din that sent shivers up your spine as he worked you over, expertly sucking and licking at your clit and working two of his fingers inside you. 

He lifted his mouth with a groan, still massaging you with his fingers, and kissed the inside of your thigh. 

“You taste so good, sweetheart… can you cum for me like this? Cum all over my fingers before I fuck you?”

You nodded and moaned out an affirmative, feeling the pressure and heat building inside your core as his mouth returned to your clit, sucking it and massaging it with his tongue just the way he knows will get you there. 

Your orgasm hit you all at once, your back arched off the bed as waves of bliss crashed throughout your body. He licked and kissed you through it, rubbing warm hands up and down your shaking thighs, wanting to prolong your pleasure. When you started to come down, Din crawled up your body, catching your lips in gentle kisses as you caught your breath. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as your tongues danced together, his cock trapped hot and heavy between the two of you. He couldn’t help the way his hips rocked into you, seeking friction and relief from your body. You broke your mouth from his, nudging him up as you licked your palm and reached between you, taking him in your hand and stroking his length, using your thumb to collect the pre-cum dripping from him. His eyes shut tight as his hips twitched into your hand and he moaned your name.

“Sweet girl, please, I want to be inside you. Can I?”

You smiled up at him before placing a kiss on his lips, “Yes, Din. I want to feel you.”

Wasting no time, he replaced your hand with his and guided his cock between your folds, grinding against you and finding your entrance. He pushed into you slowly but steadily, leaving you gasping as he allowed you a moment to adjust to the intrusion. When he was fully inside you, hips flush with yours, he kissed your neck. His breath came in hot pants as you squeezed around him, and you begged him to move. 

He pulled his hips back until just the head of his cock remained inside you and immediately thrust back in, fucking into you hard and steady. Each thrust punched a breathy moan from you, and your hands scrambled for purchase anywhere they could -- his hair, his shoulders, his back. You pushed your hips up to meet him thrust for thrust, feeling another orgasm starting to build on the heels of the last.

Din fit his hands behind each of your knees and moved your legs back, folding his own legs on either side of your hips with your hips tilted up, giving him perfect access to your clit. The change in angle had him hitting a devastating spot inside of you, sending shocks of pleasure through you with each well-placed thrust of his hips. He licked two of his fingers and started playing with your clit in small, hard circles. 

Your second orgasm hit you like a punch to the gut, sending tremors through your body and stealing your breath in one loud, long moan of Din’s name. Din’s hips began to stutter as he felt you come apart around him, his rhythm faltering as he chased his own release. He came undone with a groan, you could see his stomach tensing with each pulse of his cock as he filled you, his release hot and wet inside you. 

Both of you panting, he bent down and slid his arms under your shoulders and rolled the two of you over, holding you tight to his chest, his softening cock still inside you. He ran his fingertips lazily up and down your back, all traces of his previous tension now gone. 

You snuggled into his chest, one hand threaded through his hair and scratching lightly on his scalp, kissing whatever part of him was closest at random until you tentatively broke the silence. 

“You know, I really thought I’d lost you for a second back there. Wasn’t sure you were gonna get up.”

Din wrapped his arms around you and squeezed. 

“I know. I wasn’t sure either.”

“Din, I-“

“Shh, I know. I know, cyare. I’m sorry.” 

He did know. He knew that witnessing his brush with death today firsthand would shake you to your very core. He also knew that you understood who he was. A warrior, who would gladly die fighting if it meant protecting others. Especially those he loved. He knew you wouldn’t ever ask him to change who he is. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple and held you close with your head against his chest so you could hear his heart beating, steady and strong. 

There was no telling which fight would be his last, but in this moment, you held your Mandalorian and thanked the Maker that he would survive to see his next. For this moment, that would be enough.