#he also smiles a lot and like such a disarming personality if you know what i mean... 🥰

[adore-gregor]

🥺🥰

[llamagoddessofficial]

Le gasp..

Mafia Bad Sanses’ HCs

Mafia Bad Sanses’ HCs?

Horror likes bashing in heads. He likes that his job means he gets paid to bash in a lot of heads. He doesn't really care that he's considered one of Nightmare's top enforcers, that even the hardest criminals tremble in fear at the mention of his name, that he's called things like the beast and the monster... he just likes that he gets to take out all his worst frustrations on whichever face Nightmare points him to. As a nice bonus, the money he makes means his brother and surviving friends live in safety and comfort.

... But he also likes pretty things. Pretty, soft things, that make him feel fuzzy and warm. You're all three. You find out pretty quick that his frightening face hides a softspoken, sensitive creature, who keeps appearing at your door with flowers (when did you give him your address?) and homemade food. It's bizarre, how such a violent man can equally be so gentle, getting flustered just from you looking at him too long. He wants to do to you what he does with everyone he cares about - use his money to make it so that you never have to worry about anything in life again.

Probably for the best that you let him. He famously doesn't have great control over his temper.

Dust doesn't appear too happy about working for Nightmare. It's clear to anyone watching that Nightmare has something over him; whatever it is, it must be pretty bad, because Dust never questions Nightmare's orders - no matter how terrible or violent. He does exactly what's asked of him, no more, no less. And it's obvious why Nightmare might want to force someone like Dust to work for him... there's no job this silent demon can't do.

Dust, with you, is a different man. He almost becomes his old self again. When you're alone together, he actually smiles. He desperately wants to keep you away from the world he's become trapped in, and he'll probably spend the first few weeks of knowing you trying as hard as he can to separate you from him and the other skeletons. But... he's in love. He can't help it. He's always drawn back to you again, no matter how many times he tells himself he has to let go.

You're his escape. You make him forget the things he's done, and the things he has to keep doing. He's addicted to that feeling.

Killer is Nightmare's right hand. The moniker 'Nightmare's dog' is often used, mostly in an attempt to offend him, but it just makes him laugh. Much like Horror, he very much enjoys his job... he enjoys the power, indulging in his violent desires and getting paid for it. Killer is just about the closest thing Nightmare has to someone he trusts; Killer is privy to many of their 'family's deepest secrets, partly because of his position, but also partly because Nightmare knows Killer genuinely has absolutely zero interest in these massively important secrets. Killer just wants to stab things.

For some reason he seems intent that you trust him. It's really hard to tell what he wants, behind that smile... you're cautious with him, given his clear loyalty to Nightmare. But maybe that loyalty isn't as unshakeable as it seems. It starts with little things... casually lying through his teeth and fully taking the blame for something you did. Conveniently 'forgetting' to mention you around Nightmare. Failing a mission you expressed horror at. Lying about the nature of your personal information, pretending (in front of the guys) that he doesn't know stuff he very much knows.

It's impossible to tell what he wants. But it seems like, whatever it is, he wants it more than all the power he's got now.

Nightmare will obviously want to learn the identity of the person who's somehow managed to completely disarm his three most valuable and violent soldiers. Despite all of them doing their damnedest to keep you out of Nightmare's crosshairs, you can't be hidden forever.

Nightmare is supposed to have everything - there's no luxury he can't afford. But he's always had this... void inside him. It's the very void that pushes him to keep expanding his territory, to keep killing and taking, maybe if he has just that little bit more he'll feel complete. Maybe if he just has that one last shiny thing, he'll be happy. But it's never been enough.

Then he finally meets you. And something clicks.

Dust, Killer and Horror tried so hard to keep you away from Nightmare, because they were terrified of what would happen to you if Nightmare decided he didn't like you. Instead, something much, much worse happened.

Nightmare likes you.

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name

Danny tries to discreetly combat the ghosts suddenly showing up in Gotham without anyone finding out his secret, find out exactly why the ghosts have decided to follow him like lost ducklings after his narrow escape from his hometown, keep under the radar of both the Bats and his parents, not melt any more than he already has, and not worry his new and innocent friend Tim. Who knew that running away from home would be this stressful?

Wordcount: 1,620

Chapter 1/10

Can be read on AO3!

This fic has art from the wonderful and talented Luca!

---

Tim was just exiting his favorite coffee-shop when he was suddenly tackled by a shouting woman. “My baby! There you are!”

He watched his innocent cup of quintuple-shot espresso sail through the air and splatter across the sidewalk at the same time as he registered her muscular arms and the clear press of several weapons strapped to her body. Not a normal civilian then.

Right. Priorities.

The woman kept her strangle-hold on him as she continued, “Thank goodness you finally managed to get away from that terrible ghost!”

Tim twisted to get his attacker off him. Then he noticed that he wasn’t held in any of the multitude of restraining holds that he had been trained to escape. No, it was something a lot stranger than that. It was a hug.

“I think you have the wrong person,” he managed to get out as he tried to ease her off him, finally registering her earlier words and mentally readjusting the scenario towards a case of misunderstanding rather than an attack. Hopefully. It wouldn’t be the first time a villain took a roundabout way of getting to him, even if he had to say a hug was quite a nice way of going about it.

And that was the moment he noticed the frankly ridiculously big man bounding towards them with a wide smile and tears streaming down his face. He wasn’t slowing down. Oh shit.

He patted the woman on the back to get her attention since she seemed completely unaware of their impending doom. “Um…”

She only squeezed him harder and said, “God! It’s been so long! We were so worried!”

Tim’s bad feeling turned into dread. “… We?”

Then the man slammed into both of them with a wail of, “Danno!” 

The air rushed out of Tim as he was squashed between the two strangers. He might have been robbed of his morning coffee but he couldn’t deny that he was wide awake by now. Cass would be proud, and laugh her ass off. Tim vowed to never let her know about this.

After what felt like an eternity and what was surely a few cracked ribs, the woman disentangled herself from the hug with practiced ease that would put Catwoman to shame. She somehow managed to get the man to let Tim go and after a few seconds of struggling to breathe, Tim managed to wheeze out, “What's a Danno?!”

Then he was staring down the barrel of a gun. He tried to quell his instinct to kick it out of the woman’s hands, but it was the middle of the morning rush, and they were standing on a fairly well trafficked sidewalk, where even if people were smart enough to give the gun-wielding-maniacs—ergo, possible villains—a wide berth, it didn't mean they weren't staring.

Tim slowly raised his hands in a disarming gesture as he thought of a way to get out of this. So far they hadn’t made any demands. They also hadn’t harmed him (except his coffee and his wounded pride). Tim just wished he knew what this was about. So far he had been hugged twice, then had a gun aimed at his face. A gun that glowed green, emitted a worryingly high-pitched whine, and was very clearly home-made. Wonderful.

As Tim looked between the woman and the man he noted how both of their expressions had gone from relief and love to cold and hateful in the blink of an eye. He tensed, ready to disarm her, no matter the people around them. He refused to get himself shot before lunch.

The woman’s hands were steady—even though Tim noted that one of her hands were wrapped in bandages, and how both she and the man looked like they hadn’t slept in days—and her voice was flat as she said, “Phantom might still be overshadowing him.”

Tim frowned as both of them looked intensely into his eyes and after a few tense seconds the woman gave a satisfied nod. “The ghost is gone. You're safe now.”

She lowered the gun but Tim’s frown only deepened. “Ghost? What ghost?” 

The man and woman exchanged looks which only served to confuse him even more. 

“Honey,” the woman said in a soft voice, holstering her gun before placing a hand on Tim’s arm. He shook her off. “Honey, you were kidnapped by Phantom. It overshadowed you. You’ve been missing for a long time! That's probably why you can't remember anything.”

The man nodded along. “We’ve followed you to several cities. You must be exhausted!”

They seemed genuinely distraught by what they were saying but that didn't change the fact that they were absolutely insane.

Tim shook his head. “Look, you’re clearly confused. I’m not—”

He didn’t get to finish before the big man patted Tim on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble. “Come on, now. It’s time to go home!”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Tim bit out, his patience running out. He was almost certainly late to his meeting by now, he didn’t have his coffee, and these two seemed allergic to making any kind of sense. “Who the fuck even are you?”

“Language young man!” The woman with the gun admonished him at the same time as the hulking man shook his head with a disapproving, “Is that any way to address your folks?” 

“My what?!”

These people were absolutely crazy. He already had one unstable parent which was more than enough, thank you very much. He had to get away from them. He took a few steps backwards. The big man stepped with him.

“Son. We know you must be scared, but—” 

“Why would you think I'm your son?!” And what kind of parents would be so ready to pull a gun on their child?

The man slammed a meaty fist into his other hand. “Is this something Phantom put you up to? Oh, when I get my hands on that ghost I’ll—”

The woman grabbed Tim’s arm in a startlingly strong grip. “Are you sure you’re okay, honey? Did that pesky ghost mess with your head?”

“I’m not your son!” Tim exclaimed with increasing desperation. He slapped her hand away. “And stop touching me!”

At this she paused, wide eyes fixed on him, before they narrowed sharply.

The man’s eyes fixed on the side of his neck as he slowly said, “What happened to your scar…?”

The woman finally drew back from him. “Daniel would never hit—”

“Wait a minute…” the man said as he pointed an accusatory finger at Tim. “You're not Daniel!”

Tim groaned as he dragged a hand through his hair. “That's what I've been saying the whole time!”

“Oh!” The woman tilted her head with a calculating look in her eyes that made a shiver of discomfort crawl up Tim’s spine. “But you really do look similar. You both have dark hair and blue eyes.”

Tim waited for more attributes that he shared with this mysterious Daniel, but nothing else came. That was why they had mistaken him for their son? His hair and eye color? …Shouldn’t they be a bit more familiar with what their own son looked like?

The man rubbed at his shin. “Did we have another son?”

“Ha!” the woman laughed, “Of course not, honey. We wouldn’t forget that!”

Tim wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t want to risk starting another argument with these people. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and awkwardly said, “So, I have to get going. It was… interesting meeting you.”

“Yes! Right! We need to keep looking!” The man straightened up and then screamed at the sky, “Don’t worry, son! We’re coming for you!”

Tim winced, both at the volume and at tomorrow’s headlines which he could already see in his mind’s eye. ‘Wayne Enterprise’s young CEO Tim Wayne caught roughhousing in the streets’. His family would not let him live this down for weeks.

“So sorry for the inconvenience,” the woman said as she lowered goggles over her eyes and took out what looked like some sort of tracking device from somewhere on her jumpsuit. She didn’t sound sorry at all. She continued under her breath, “Phantom should still be in the city… We won't let it get away again.”

And Tim was fairly certain that they should be more focused on finding their apparently missing son than hunting down some ghost, but who was he to judge? And he really didn’t want to get involved in this situation any more than he already had.

The man didn’t even try to apologize as he, once again, slapped Tim on the shoulder with enough force to make him stagger. “It was nice meeting you, young man! And remember; the only good ghost is a dead one!”

“Aren’t all ghosts dead…?”

That made the man boom out a laugh loud enough to make Tim wince. “I like your humor! If you ever get into any trouble with the undead just give us a call!”

Tim didn’t even know their names, but didn’t have time to ask before the woman exclaimed something about a reading and they both took off down the street on a run.

Whoever their missing son was, Tim hoped he stayed far away from them.

His eyes landed on his spilled coffee and Tim heaved a sigh as he turned back towards the coffee-shop. He would have to call in late, but he refused to face any more of this day without caffeine. 

He had more important things to focus on than Bruce getting some competition in the adoption-department. Oh, well. He probably wouldn't see them again.

At least he could console himself with the fact that ghosts aren't real.

[nrdmssgs]

Making Nikto a meal from his homeland 🥺

Maybe learning enough Russian to say that you care for him?

Masterlist

Love, I kinda-sorta have something similar here, but, I'm ready to feed this sweet guy his favorite meals on a daily basis.

Nikto doesn't get sentimental when it comes to his homeland. At least not when others are around. His house is not full of Russian books, shelves are not littered with trinkets from there, he doesn't watch films from his childhood with you. It might seem, that he's just indifferent to his own past, but you suspect, this is not the case.

He's stubborn, headstrong, “don't understand, what's there to miss” each time you ask him about his childhood. But notice little cracks in his demeanor, when he pauses a little too long, seeing something, that reminds him of home. It can be a dilapidated prefab panel block, any other person would avoid looking at. You already remember its funny name - 'panelka'. Sometimes it's just a streetlamp, captivating a gloving cone of snowflakes swirling around. You believe, there is no particular name for this, but in moments like this Nikto's gaze grows distant, and he mutters 'kak v detststve'.

You don't know what that means. The problem with Russian is that it's so terribly complicated to distinguish spoken words, that you fail to even write down what Andre is saying to himself in such situations to try to translate it later. When you ask him to teach you more words - he pulls a pitiful face and huffs.

"You don't need Russian."

It seems, he doesn't realize, how much you do need it. Because the cracks are right there, before your eyes. And behind them - his aching heart. Skipping a beat before an old ugly house, freezing under that streetlamp.

It's enough of joy to him to just open the door of your shared place and hear you there right away. You are enough for him to not be bothered by anything missing from his life.

That is why he's confused, when you meet him at the door and don't let take a single step in, before you recite a little speech, that you brought together with the help of online videos, some of your friends and a good dozen of dictionaries.

"...Ya skuchalali i dumala o tebya i potomy prigotovila odnu vesh`*"

He doesn't care for your little mistakes. Nikto pulls his mask and balaclava off, and you see little crinkles gathering around the corners of pale blue eyes. This man's eyes can scare, paralyze, haunt, but also - smile, shine with a silent, yet obvious gratitude. And something almost elusive - softness grows more present deep in his gaze with each your word.

You finish your speech and take his hand to lead him to the kitchen, but he pulls you back for a hug.

"Idi syuda*." And he hides you in his arms, softly cups the back of your head and buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. This phrase you know already: he uses it, when he desperately craves your proximity. His way of calling you to come closer, when all the languages, he speaks, mix together, or he's just tired.

No words shared afterwards - only soft touches, breaths calming down, deepening. Maybe you considered learning a few sentences in Russian not a big deal, but to him this means a lot. You, caring for the parts of his life, that even Nikto himself gave up on.

When you finally pull him to show, what you cooked, he's speechless. It takes some time to convince him to come closer to the dinner table. Such a powerful, dangerous animal, he now walks in the tiniest cautious step. As a wild dog, not sure, if he's about to get a treat or to get captured.

You giggle and point to every bowl, telling him, how you made it. It was a battle to remember, so many youtube vids watched, so many tries and fails now you have mad respect to all those Russian, babushkas...

You fall silent, when he slowly squats down, resting his chin on the edge of the table. He looks struck, disarmed and lost.

"All that... for me?" he asks barely audible, and you nod enthusiastically.

Nikto takes a deep breath and exhales familiar words.

"Kak v detstve*"

You are still not sure, what does it mean, but judging by how much kisses he gives you, this 'kakvdetstve' thing makes him really happy. A kiss after every second bite. Andre can't concentrate on either tasting your delicious food or tasting your soft blushing cheeks, so he combines two experiences.

He doesn't let go of you even a few hours later, when you two are in your bed already. You slowly fall asleep to the low rumble and purr of his breathing. Your face pressed to his chest, and the drape of his arm warmer than any blanket. The span of his fingers over your chest is a heavy comfort. You brought him home today and the only thing, he wishes for is to do the same for you.

...Ya skuchalali i dumala o tebya i potomy prigotovila odnu vesh`* - I missed you and thought about you, so I cooked you something. (although intentionally with mistakes)

Idi syuda* - come here

Kak v detstve* - like it was in the childhood

[bitethedevil]

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 1

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav gets kidnapped and is surprisingly calm about her new predicament. She spends her first night in the devil’s bed. Raphael is a pain in the ass to share a bed with.

(AN: A pretty self-indulgent fic that I am working on. It is a lot more light-hearted than what I have previously written. The plot also gives me an opportunity to explore a more private and less performative Raphael. There will be more chapters.)

Warning: NSFW

It was a couple of weeks after the defeat of the elderbrain. Tav had been out drinking with a few of her companions. She had gotten very drunk and at some point during the evening she had gotten lost from the rest.

A handsome young tiefling man had approached her and bought her drinks. He had red skin, yellow glowing eyes, and a disarming smile.

They talked for a couple of hours. He claimed to be a wizard like her. She should have known something was up when he seemed to be very unknowledgeable about even simple spells, but what could she say? The man was charming, and the alcohol made it hard for her to care about him potentially lying just to get her into bed.

When they got to his place, she was half-way out of her clothes when something hit her head.

Everything went black.  

When she woke up, she heard the faint sound of something...jingling? She felt a sharp poke to her ribs. She grumbled quietly, still not entirely awake. She received another poke to her ribs. She whined and mumbled in response. Then there was a full force kick that squeezed the air out of her and made her turn to her side.

She held onto the boot that had kicked her and opened her eyes. Black boots that went into a tip at the toes. She knew where she had seen those silly jingly boots before. She looked up. Familiar orange eyes looked down on her. He was in his cambion form.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled.

“Indeed,” Raphael said in a dangerously low tone.

Tav had signed his contract back then and used the Orphic Hammer to free Orpheus. She did intend to give the Crown of Karsus to Raphael, but her companions made her change her mind. The Crown of Karsus ended up in Mystra’s hands instead, in order to cure Gale of his orb.

“Thank you for bringing her here, Cassius,” Raphael said to someone else while his eyes were still locked on her. “Now leave us.”

Tav looked behind Raphael to see the young tiefling man that she had gone home with. So, he was a warlock… It suddenly made all the sense in the world why he did not know his ass from his elbow when it came to wizardry. The warlock smiled at her as he left them. Tav’s eyes narrowed at him.

“Ugh…” she groaned and looked up at Raphael. “He’s one of yours? You couldn’t have sent Korrilla or something?”

“You know Korrilla’s face, little mouse,” Raphael sighed. “You may not be the brightest person I have ever crossed, but I don’t expect you to be so dull that you would walk into my trap willingly…Then again, nothing would surprise me with you.”

Trap? Why couldn’t he just whisk her away like he did that first time they met if he wanted her there? Tav’s brow furrowed as she tried to understand. She lifted her head to look down her body. She wasn’t wearing a shirt. That was going to have to be a concern for a later time, because she noticed that she was wearing something around her wrists. They were tight metal cuffs with infernal letters inscribed in them.

Her brain was not her friend between the high levels of alcohol still in her blood and the fact that she had been hit on her head with a blunt object. She held the cuffs up to her face and studied them with all the concentration she could muster. She had seen something like these cuffs before…

“Help me out here…” she said and looked up at Raphael.

“They are constructs like those that held Prince Orpheus,” Raphael explained. “I’m aware that your mental capabilities leave something to be desired at the moment, so I will gladly explain it to you in simple terms: You won’t leave this house with those on, and you won’t get them off without the Orphic Hammer.”

“Is that what all this is about?” she sighed. “You could have just asked for it back. The damned thing has just been collecting dust at my house anyway.”

“No, Tav,” Raphael said in a darker tone. “This is about punishment. We had a deal, and you broke it. You snooped through my house, took things that did not belong to you, killed my incubus…I allowed it because I thought you still had the sense to go through with what we agreed upon.”

She winced. It had been a stupid decision to go to his house and one that did not even pay off. When Gale had been offered Mystra’s help, they went to the House of Hope to gauge their options. Everything seemed so tightly secured and locked down that they decided not to risk it in the end.

“Listen, I’m sorry about Haarlep…” she said.

“Don’t be,” Raphael replied smoothly. “I have half a mind to make you his replacement until your dear little friends bring me my hammer back…Then, I will make you watch as your friends die a cruel and slow death. After, I will take what is now rightfully mine: your soul.”

Well…fuck.

This wasn’t good. Her friends would without a doubt come to her rescue if Raphael told them that she was held captive in his home. She needed to keep them away and bide her time until she could figure out a solution.

“Say that they don’t come,” She said. “What then?”

“They will,” Raphael said. “You will be treated well until then since I need you alive and in one piece to lure them here. You will be granted free roam of the house, three meals a day, and a soft bed to sleep in. Consider yourself prized livestock that gets pampered in its final days before being sent to slaughter. Not that you deserve it…”

She took a deep breath. She had to somehow contact her friends and ask them to stay away. Then, she would have to find a way out of those damned cuffs so she could return home. How in the Hells she would manage to do that without the Orphic Hammer, she did not know, but it was not an option to gamble with her friends’ lives in order to bring it to her.

Tav had always found a way to be calm and relaxed, even in the worst of situations. She already had half a plan in her mind. All she needed was a moment of privacy to use a sending spell to alert her friends.

Raphael extended a hand to her, to help her up and off the floor. She took it and was pulled to her feet. She winced and held a hand to her head once the blood rushed to her injury from the blunt object hitting her.

“Come,” Raphael said and led her through the house.

They stepped through the barrier to the boudoir.

“I trust that you have already familiarized yourself with this room during your burglary, so I believe we can skip the tour,” Raphael said with no short amount of bitterness and then gestured to a wardrobe. “You will find clothes and essentials in there.”

Raphael turned around to face her. He looked her up and down. His gaze lingered at her bra and cleavage for just a second too long. Tav crossed her arms to cover herself.

“Bathe, rest, make yourself at home,” Raphael said with a smug smile.

Tav looked around the room and then at Raphael.

“Where will I sleep?” she asked.

Raphael’s smile widened and he gestured to his bed. Tav’s brow furrowed as her eyes went from him to the bed.

“Are you serious?” she asked.

“Deadly,” Raphael said calmly. “You killed my bed warmer. I believe it’s only fair that you take their place…Of course, I would never force you to do anything. If this little arrangement doesn’t suit you, I can have a cell in the dungeons cleared out for you. Its last visitor has been decomposing in there for a while now…”

“Alright, alright,” Tav said in defeat. “Fine. I get it…I won’t complain.”

“I thought not,” Raphael said smoothly. “I have business to attend to before retiring. Until then, Korrilla will be watching you.”

Tav sighed. She had hoped for a moment of alone time, but Raphael was not stupid. He was probably fully counting on her trying something, so he made sure to keep a close eye on her.

Korrilla entered the boudoir shortly after.

“Evening, boss,” Korrilla said with a smile, greeting Raphael before turning to Tav. “Tav.”

Tav smiled and waved casually at her. She had never minded Korrilla. After all, Tav did not know the circumstances of her pact, and she did not feel like judging her solely because her boss was a pain in the ass.

“Remember,” Raphael said addressing Korrilla. “Do not let her out of your sight.”

Korrilla nodded and Raphael gave Tav one last glance before leaving the boudoir.

Tav and Korrilla stood in silence for a moment, looking at each other. Tav was trying to figure out how she could divert Korrilla’s attention away from her.

“I think I’m going to take a bath,” Tav said casually and moved towards the restoration pool.

“Good idea,” Korrilla said, already following her. “I have to say, you look a mess. Cassius really did a number on you, didn’t he?”

“Yes. Surely, he could have used a spell to knock me out instead. Not too bright, is he?” Tav said and started slowly taking off her clothes, waiting for Korrilla to give her a moment of privacy. “He’s new, I presume?”

Korrilla seated herself on the other side of the pool, so she had a clear view of Tav.

“Correct,” Korrilla answered.

“'Correct' to which statement?” Tav asked with chuckle. “That he is not too bright, or that he is new?”

“He is new,” Korrilla said with a smile that signaled to Tav that she did not disagree with the other statement either.

Tav pulled off her pants, leaving her in her underwear. Korrilla was still watching her.

“Are you seriously going to keep staring at me while I bathe?” Tav asked.

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Korrilla said and gestured for her to continue taking off her clothes. “I promise you that no matter what, I have seen far worse within this room.”

Tav sighed quietly. She reluctantly took off the rest of her clothes and slipped into the warm water of the pool. She felt relief as the water instantly healed her head-injury and took the edge off her hangover. Tav leaned her head back on the pool’s edge and closed her eyes for a moment.

After a long bath, Tav dried herself off and wrapped herself in a towel. She walked to the wardrobe with Korrilla at her heels. She opened it and sifted through the clothes.

There was a bit of everything: dresses, shirts, pants…Tav looked at some of the underwear. She pulled out a strappy leather bra with matching panties and showed them to Korrilla.

“Is he serious?” Tav asked with a deadpan expression.

“Leftovers from Haarlep, if I should guess,” Korrilla said.

Made sense. Tav looked after any type of nightclothes. Most of it was very revealing, but she managed to find a long silk night-gown. It was still suggestive, but it was her best option out of the bunch. The neckline was quite revealing, but at least it covered more of her body than the other negligees she found.

“This will have to do,” Tav sighed and put it on.

Tav crawled into bed after. It might have been the most comfortable bed she had ever laid in. The mattress was neither too soft nor too firm, and the sheets were silk. She felt sleepy moments after she had laid down. Korrilla was watching her from a chair.

“You’re not sleepy?” Tav asked and looked at her. Was there even a small chance that Korrilla would fall asleep so that Tav had the chance to send message to her friends, she would fight her sleepiness and stay awake.

“I’m not going to cuddle with you, if that is what you are asking,” Korrilla answered, looking wide awake. “I don’t sleep on the job.”

“Oh, you flirt. Not what I meant. I was just asking,” Tav mumbled with a sigh. Her sleepiness won against her determination. She gave up on her hope to reach her friends that night and decided to try the day after as she drifted to sleep.

She stirred from her sleep when she heard Korrilla leave, and Raphael enter. She yawned quietly. She made sure her night-gown was adjusted so it covered as much as possible before closing her eyes again. She felt a dip in the mattress as Raphael laid down behind her.

She gave a surprised yelp as Raphael grabbed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Her back was up against his chest, his arm held around her tightly, and he settled his chin on the top of her head. He placed his leg over hers, effectively making sure that she could not move during the night.

This was without a doubt the closest she had ever been to Raphael. His skin was unnaturally warm, like that of a person with a high fever. She knew that protesting would not get her anywhere, because there most likely was a reason as to why he held her like that: to make sure that she would not try anything during the night.

She tried making herself comfortable despite the restrictions to her movements. Raphael’s grip tightened slightly in response.

“Lie still,” he grumbled.

Tav felt the deep rumble of his voice through his chest, and she would have been lying if she said that it did not do things to her.

“You’re a really uncomfortable big spoon, do you know that?” she complained and squirmed again. “I’m just trying to make myself comfortable.”

She felt something through the fabric of her nightgown as she adjusted her position in his arms. It made her freeze for a moment.

“Are you naked?” she asked in disbelief.

“Mm,” he affirmed tiredly. “Sleep, mouse.”

“I can’t persuade you to put on some clothes?”

“You are very demanding for a woman in your position,” Raphael said. “No. I will sleep in my own bed as I please.”

She sighed and adjusted herself one last time before closing her eyes.

Sleeping in the arms of a devil was pure hell for a multitude of reasons. Tav had never sweated so much in her life.

With difficulty, Tav rolled over to her other side since her back was literally soaked with sweat. Raphael’s grip was so tight around her that she was almost forced to lean her head against his chest as she faced him. She refused to do so and leaned her head back and away from him. The awkward position made her snore softly in her sleep. She was rudely woken during the night by his tail hitting her thigh, as a hint for her to stop snoring.

She was rudely woken yet again, when he suddenly snaked his arm under her to grab her and move her with him like a ragdoll as he rolled over to his other side.

In the early morning, Tav opened her eyes as she felt something press up against her behind. She could hear on his breathing that he was still at least somewhat asleep.

He was rock-hard and his, what felt like, impressive size was resting against her ass.

He rolled his hips against her and groaned softly.

The arm that had been holding her tightly, moved down to her hip to push her back against him. Another soft groan.

Tav’s eyes widened, and she was suddenly very awake.

She was careful not to move, but she did feel a tinge of growing arousal despite herself.

He pushed her back against him once again and groaned slightly louder. It was followed by a sharp inhale and a stir, as he woke up entirely.

A few moments later he got up and off the bed.

Tav squeezed her eyes shut. They had both knew what just happened. Should she say something? Should she pretend that she was asleep the entire time? Pretend she was dead? The last option was honestly tempting but she decided to try her luck with option two.

She listened to his movements. After a short while, it got quiet. She waited a few moments to be sure that he had left, before opening her eyes.

This could be her opportunity to reach her friends.

She sat up quickly and looked around the boudoir. Her eyes fell on the young tiefling warlock who must have entered without her hearing a thing. He was sitting in the chair that Korrilla had sat in the day before.

“Morning,” Cassius said with a smile.

Tav groaned in frustration and slid back into bed.

[mixelation]

today's morning writing (reborn au)

i regressed back to ninja con 2 (the one where minato lets himself get kidnapped)

*****

Most of the restaurants in town were down by the port, and there was a steady trail of con goers leading that way. Instead of following them, Tori led him the opposite way, out of the hotel district and into a more residential area. The number of cosplayers milling about dropped off precipitously. 

“In town for the con?” the host asked, eyes flicking over Minato without much interest. Tori smiled demurely back. “It’ll be about twenty minutes for a table.”

“That’s okay,” Minato said. Waiting for a table! How novel. 

The host took the fake name Minato gave him and they stepped outside to wait. The narrow street outside wasn’t especially busy with pedestrian traffic, although the restaurant had a few outdoor tables. The quiet buzz of conversation filled the air. 

Tori shifted next to him, fiddling with the straps of her bag. 

Minato could not remember ever spending one-on-one time with her, at least not socially. She was very firmly in his orbit, but he could not think of a time when it was just them. He wondered if he made her nervous. That’s how people usually reacted to suddenly being alone with him. 

Minato shot her the most disarming smile he could muster. Tori blinked back at him, unimpressed. 

Ah, no, that won’t work, he decided. He might not have spent a lot of time with Tori, but Kushina certainly had, and she routinely reported back what felt like everything Tori had ever said. Tori was not easily intimidated. She was not impressed by power or social status or age. She did have a healthy distrust for people she felt were unduly kind to her or too quick to compliment her, as the result of Orochimaru’s mentorship. It had given her a complex relationship to authority that Kushina spent a lot of time fretting over. 

She’ll like you more if you’re just kind of a dick, Kushina had told him, years ago. But, like, a genuine dick, you know?

Minato remembered this wording because he had thought this was a bizarre thing to say. But it had explained a lot about Team 4’s dynamic. 

He did want Tori to like him, he realized as his smile faded. For one thing, she was Kushina’s favorite, and he liked people who were important to Kushina. For another… well, Minato just liked challenging personalities. She wouldn’t be interesting to him if she could be won over with a smile and some compliments. 

But also “randomly act like a dick to someone” just wasn’t in his playbook. Tricky.

“Did you find anything good for Itachi?” he tried. 

“Yes,” Tori said, and then dutifully spent the next twenty minutes describing some truly terrible sounding novels.

*****

i always feel a little weird when outsider POVs have positive or impressed thoughts about tori, like: have i written a mary sue?!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hi~I saw a lot of reader asks and how badass she is. So, what if powerful reader is also innocent and she somehow during the fight (human side) manage to pin her opponents to the ground, immobilized them only for her to grin and lean close to their face and said, "Want to go for second round?" Causing the other to froze and blush due to the context of her words. The crowds scream in excitement while the human fighter facepalm.

While reader is just sits up on her opponents, straddling them and confused why the audience literally screaming and why her fellow fighters seem flushed and some even frowning or glaring. And then the god fighting her suddenly blurted a marriage proposal out of blue, still blushing and even move to hold her hands or just hold her close.

Hades, Poseidon, Beelzebub, Hercules and Thor please!

-You were a ray of sunshine, but you could also be a ball of fire when you wanted to be.

-You were a kind and gentle person by nature, always wanting to help others, but you knew how to fight, to defend yourself, as many had told you that you were too innocent, and bad people would try to steal you away.

-You had been chosen to fight in Ragnarok and quickly proved that you were not a pushover, you were way stronger than you looked, handling your opponent, one of the strongest in Ragnarok, with ease!

-You managed to leg sweep your opponent and disarm him at the same time, knocking him to his back and you were quick to pin him down, sitting astride his chest, holding a knife to his neck.

-You were announced the winner and you smiled down at him, pulling your knife away, “That was so much fun! I wanna have a second round!”

-The crowd was immediately cheering, making question marks appear around your head, confused as to why they were all cheering while others couldn’t help but face-palm, seeing how dense you were, with the way you were sitting on (God) and what you had said.

-Hades- Smiled up at you, seeing you denseness, his hands coming to your hips, making you squeak as he held you there, “Marry me!” your face immediately flushed, shocked about where his proposal had come from as the cheers had gotten louder. He had been impressed with your skills, with your power, but he also knew that you were a kind person, you were perfect in his eyes. You were stammering, your hands on his chest, trying to pull away from him before he sat up and you slid to his lap, the crowd growing even louder and he could only grin as you didn’t realize the position you were now in, waiting for your answer, enjoying your flushed face.

-Poseidon- He was stunned that you had managed to best him in combat, but your statement, which you had meant in a non-perverted way, had a fire quickly going in him as you got off him. You held out a hand to him, offering to help him up, which showed your kind nature, he took it, but only to hold you there as he quickly moved, capturing your lips in a kiss. Your eyes went wide, and you instantly flushed, pulling away, but he kept his grip on your wrist, “Become my wife and queen.” Your mouth fell open as the crowd went wild, seeing the normally stoic Poseidon kiss you and propose publicly, finding it amazing!

-Beelzebub- You went to move off of him and you froze as his hands came to your waist, keeping you seated, and you looked down at him, a bit confused, which made a smile rise to his lips, seeing that you were indeed dense as you hadn’t realized what you had said, only knowing the crowd was cheering for your boldness. You wiggled only slightly, confused, “why are you holding me down? Aren’t I heavy?” he chuckled softly before he spoke, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek, “Will you marry me?” you pulled back, your hands coming to your cheeks as a sound like a deflating balloon escaped you and the crowd went even crazier, hearing the proposal while you were stammering, trying to make sense of why he was proposing to you.

-Hercules- He grinned up at you, not at all bothered that he had lost, which made you smile before he inhaled, “Marry me!” you turned white, freezing in shock and the crowd went absolutely bonkers, hearing the proposal, cheering for the two of you while you looked around frantically. You were concerned that beating him was a marriage proposal of sorts, your face red as you were stammering, trying to apologize for beating him before he sat up, his arms rising to keep your legs around his chest so he could look up at you, only slightly as he was so tall, asking you again to marry him. Your eyes turned to swirls as you couldn’t make any sense of the situation and he had to carry you backstage for you to calm down, before he asked again, wanting your answer.

-Thor- You had gotten off of him and had turned to help him up, showing him your kind nature, but he was already standing by the time you turned, but you weren’t bothered. You smiled at him once more before he reached out and caught your wrist, which made you turn, a bit confused, silently pondering if he wanted that second match right away. His other hand rose and brushed your hair behind your ear, shocking everyone by his gentle actions before he spoke, “Marry me, Y/N.” your eyes went wide before you pulled back, hands cupping your face, “What?” the crowd quickly went wild, hearing the proposal and he smiled softly down at you, thinking your flushed face was cute before he asked you again, his voice soft, his eyes full of adoration for you, which really confused you as you had never met Thor before your fight with him. You had no idea what to do!!

[oh-no-its-bird]

sorry but I genuinely need to know what the outside perspective of stoner Itama is- the ultimate weed supplier of Konoha?? At what point do they draw the line with this guy 😭

A wonderful question that makes me lose my mind a little bit to even consider actually

So we've already talked about how in this verse, Itama and Tobirama were trained to fight together as a duo, so they probably have at least a battle reputation that's tied pretty closely together

Actually hmm I'm thinking and that could cause problems for Izuna specifically, bc him and tobirama are on even ground and Itama would definatley tip the scales there

Ok so rewind -> they're trained to fight together and fucking terrifying, but for Reasons(tm) Itama tends to stick close to home base as a last line of defense / resident healer and clan poison master

When they send Tobirama and Itama out together it's to get shit DONE. Maybe Hashirama, in his desire for peace, actually specifically leaves him behind bc he knows if the twins go out on the battlefield together, certain pieces he doesn't want moved will certainly be doing some goddamn moving

As such, he doesn't have much of a reputation / maybe there's some sort of rumor ab him being sickly floating around

This also means he can do fun spy things bc no one knows what he looks like!! Which is even more reason to keep him off the battlefield, yayy

Funny bit where Itama and Izuna run into eachother in the wild and Itama totally knows who this guy is but Izuna has no idea who he is. Maybe they help eachother out a bit and Itama makes a joke about how he got separated from his brother, who's "tall and grumpy and acts like a cute little kitty cat <3"

And Izuna is like, haven't seen him, sorry

Then Tobirama shows up and Izuna is screeching "THATS Bibi-chan???" As Itama uwus and goes "I told you didn't I? My bibi-chan is tall and grumpy and acts like a cute kitty cat <333"

(Izuna feels like he's having an aneurysm)

Blah blah blah Konoha is made early yayy friendship peace and ninja drugs galore what a beautiful world we live in

The consensus on Itama inside Konoha is that he's very nice and the most reasonable / easy to work with of the 3 Senju brothers (HIGHLY debatable, they are all insane in very different ways)

Anyone who meets him personally within professional bounds finds him very charming and soft spoken, with the type of personality on the surface that'd make you think he isn't fit for shinobi work (which, to any shinobi worth their salt, is a red flag in itself)

Itama is very conscious of public opinions, and he's friends with Izuna who's like got spy master vibes going on for him— they probably collaborate together sometimes in that field. So he has a good grasp on what people think of him / how to manipulate that

OUTSIDE of the village, since Itama mostly avoided public eye for so long, he doesn't have too much of a reputation. Even after he started going out with Tobirama on public missions regularly, bc of Tobirama's own big reputation, whenever they do insane shit it tends to be attributed to him— not the harmless looking guy standing innocently behind him

Konoha's secret weapon,,

Anyways !! I don't think the fact that Itama is specifically the mind behind the really good konoha weed is public knowledge. It's definitely known that it's a Senju product, and a lot of people probably assume it's Hashirama

Itama IS however known as the guy who totally always has that good ninja weed, and he's totally always on staff as one of the first faces any visiting important people see. He's so disarming, he's great at charming dignitaries

He and Izuna probably get sent to the capital whenever they need court representation actually. Konoha's pretty politics duo here to smile nicely and feed you pretty lies

What the fuck was I talking about again

RIGHT OK SO

Outside of the village people don't really know Itama has as much importance / influence as he does, due to a mix of on purpose subterfuge and just everyone around him having really big reputations that he carefully allows to overshadow his own

It benefits him :)

They never see the Itama inquisition coming

<- This also means that when he does insane shit he never fails to get "oh what the fuck" reactions from anyone new around him (he finds the process of watching people realize he's just as bad / possibly even WORSE than his brothers very, very funny)

[selfindulgentpixies]

Part three is here and so begins the hidden inventory arc! This is extremely spoiler heavy and also jumps around a lot. Being caught up on the episodes or having read Gojo's past arc are a must for this to all make sense because while I will be covering some of what’s been shown just with reader now being there some stuff will get glossed over since I value my sanity.  Contains canon typical violence.

Satoru x Reader x Suguru

(GN!reader Be warned that reader is referred to as pretty and adorable at different points, as well as being notably short. I know for some that can cause dyphoria though it applies well to my own experiences and this at it's heart is very heavily self insert. Reader's CT is also talked about and used based upon what I imagine what mine would be and is part of the plot. I hope people are still able to enjoy this though since i've worked hard on it and it's the biggest project I've posted on here. Links to other parts are at the end.) Edit: Liek parts 1 & 2 some small revisions have been made but nothing major

Chapter 3: And so it begins

You’re flat on your back staring up at a clear blue sky, your chest heaving. “Tell me again why I can’t even use practice weapons when we train? Cause you know using weapons is kind of a big part of my cursed technique, Suguru-senpai.”

He chuckles at you and reaches for your hand to help you back up. You take it and he pulls you to your feet. “Because you might have to fight someone at some point who’s able to disarm you like I am, or who doesn’t give you a chance to summon your weapons, among the many reasons I could give you.” 

You puff out your cheeks and pout. “Not everyone is as good at hand to hand combat as you are, you’re one of the strongest-” 

He shakes his head. “There are plenty of strong opponents who will be able to put you on the back foot. I just want you to be prepared for that.” 

The look he’s giving you is a serious one and it makes you want to squirm so you rock back on your heels and shove your hands in your pockets. “That makes sense, I guess,” you relent and he gives you a small smile. Reaching out he gives your shoulder a small squeeze.  

“Suguru, you comin’? There still hasn’t been any word from Mei Mei and Utahime so we’re gonna go check it out.” Gojo’s voice calls down from the stairs leading down to the training field. Shoko is with him and she gives you a wave which you return. 

Smile widening just a bit, Suguru lets go of your shoulder. “Sounds like I’m needed elsewhere. Think about what I said and keep training alright?” And with that he’s walking away. 

You watch him go, and your eyes linger just a touch too long.

An arm rests on your shoulder. “You’re sure spending a lot of time training with Geto-senpai aren’t you,” Haibara says with an almost conspiratorial tone. 

Your face heats up. “He’s just helping me out. Like you said, it's training.”

Haibara hums and you hear another pair of footsteps approaching that you assume are Nanami’s. “I also heard you got invited to a movie night by him and Gojo-senpai.” He glances down at you with a knowing look that you don’t like. “Annnd that they were awfully touchy with you.” 

You wish the training field would swallow you whole or that a curse would appear and just end this conversation. “And who told you that exactly?” 

“We were out in the hall when Shoko-senpai came grumbling past us. We asked what was wrong and she said something about it.” Nanami says from behind you. 

Betrayal complete and utter betrayal. Your face burns with embarrassment. “So it’s true!” Haibara cheers. 

“Oh shut it, Haibara!”  

“Aww come on I want to hear about it from you! What happened after Shoko-Senpai left?’

“Personally I’d rather not hear about it.” You can practically hear Nanami’s eyeroll. 

Haibara turns to him with a pout. “Aww come on it-” he pauses and looks all around but doesn’t see you anywhere. Somehow you’d pulled a vanishing act. “Did you see where they went?” 

Nanami makes a noise in the affirmative but doesn’t say where you went. “Neither of you are being fun today,” Haibara says with a pout and puppy dog eyes that fail to sway the blonde boy. 

___

It’s a couple hours later you find yourself with a textbook balanced on your knees and scribbling notes on a notebook off to the side. You’d been doing your best to not to think too hard about that night. You probably were just reading too much into some teasing. The two older boys were together, you were sure of that much. What would they want to do with you as anything other than a friend? You’re grumbling to yourself with your chin tucked to your chest when you hear approaching footsteps and then your textbook is being lifted from your legs. Your head snaps up in time to watch Gojo snap the book closed. 

“Gojo-senpai, what are you-” You start to protest but he interjects “How’d you like to go for a lil trip with us?” Suguru is standing a little ways off behind him smiling and shaking his head.

__

Thus you found yourself trailing after your two senpai having the mission explained to you. Your brow furrows not really liking the sound of it. “She’s not that much younger than us.. I can’t imagine being told I have to just.. Cease existing and be okay with it.” 

“We talked about it a bit already. If she doesn’t want to, we won't make her.” You blink up at Suguru in surprise.  

“Bu-”

“Don’t worry, we’re the strongest so if she doesn’t want to we’ll make sure she doesn’t have to.” Gojo says ever confident. 

You truely hope they’re right. 

“Oh by the way… Does Yaga Sensei know I'm with you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Suguru-senpai, does he know?” You figure he’s more likely to tell you the truth. 

“Wait, you're calling him Suguru now?” Gojo’s voice sounds indignant, maybe even a little hurt. “You never call me by my first name.” He stops walking and fully faces you.

“Oh.. well uh he told me to, the other night.” 

Gojo looks back at Suguru who’s giving him a smug smile like he won something. Gojo whips his head back toward you, giving you a serious look and you stand a little straighter. “From now on you should call me Satoru,” he declares, thumb pointing at his chest before turning and beginning to walk again. 

You stand there in confusion for a moment watching the older boys walk away before it occurs to you. “Hey neither of you answered my question!” you yell and run to catch up with their long strides.

___

It turns out that no, they hadn’t asked permission to bring you along and Yaga hadn’t known you’d gone with them. How’d you find this out? Given how you’d been sticking to Suguru like velcro lately, which Yaga was partially to blame for, he’d had a hunch and had called when you hadn’t shown up with the other first years for a lesson. When you’d answered your cellphone and the two older boys heard you greet Yaga they both froze. 

“Ah yes i’m with them. Is something wrong?” A pause. You blink and pull your phone away from your ear to look at the screen. You tilt your head to the side. “He hung up on me?” 

Then Satoru’s phone begins to ring. He definitely looks like he doesn’t want to answer but does so reluctantly. Before he can even say anything he has to pull the phone away from his ear because Yaga starts yelling on the other end.  In the end he wants to tell them to immediately bring you back since he thinks they’re out of their depth already without having a first year with them but this mission is too time sensitive for that. You’ll just have to listen to them and be careful. Really they knew Yaga was going to find out and get mad at them for taking you along, they'd just kind of hoped he wouldn’t find out until after the fact since now he got to stew on it. They didn’t know what led to it but he’d become your guardian at some point before you enrolled at jujutsu tech and was particularly protective of you. You were always evasive about it when asked though.

___

You pout as you walk away from the sweets shop. “Is sending me on errands while we’re on a mission part of keeping me safe or was this why they brought me along in the first place,” You grumble to yourself as you put the nicely wrapped package of mochi and other goodies in your bag without stopping. Satoru should be right around here you think to yourself, tossing the bag back over your shoulder just in time for a large explosion. Your head whips toward the source of the noise and panic grips your chest when you see a girl flying through the air, that panic soon turns to relief though when through the smoke and falling debris you see Suguru catch her while riding one of his curses. You let out a little cheer but then suddenly someone is gripping your shoulder. 

“You’re another one of those jujutsu high brats, aren’t you?” A voice rumbles behind you.

You glance over your shoulder with narrowed eyes, not dignifying him with a response. He was dressed strangely like the men in the pictures you’d been shown of Q members.

He’s about to say something else when you grab the hand on your shoulder and bend back and break several of the man’s fingers. He pulls back with a howl of pain and surprise clutching at his broken fingers. ”You fuckin lil shit-” Before he’s even able to finish speaking you summon a lance that looks like a series of small linked hands and smack the blunt end across his head before swiping it under his feet on the back swing making him crash to the ground.

“Oi, __-chan you okay over there?” Satoru’s voice calls over to you. You look over and he’s leaning against a railing surveying you and the little scrap you’d just had. 

“Ah yeah I’m fine, Gojo-senpai.”

“I said to call me Satoru,” he whines in a way unbecoming of his age.

As you’re about to respond the man on the ground begins to get up only for you to bonk him on the head without looking. “Right.. sorry, Satoru-senpai.” You hop over the now dazed and prone man and make your way to Satoru who immediately ruffles your hair looking between you and the guy on the ground. 

“Don’t see why Yaga was so worried about you. You hold your own well enough,” he says with a grin. You swat his hand away and try to fix your hair though you can see from your reflection in his dark glasses that you’re only partially successful.Then you look around him and see another strangely dressed man, though this one has long hair. He’s already sprawled out on the ground along with dozens of twisted knives scattered about.  Satoru follows your gaze and grins. “If they’re all this weak we won’t have any problems.” He jerks his head toward the smoking building. “Let’s catch up with Suguru.”

Perhaps foolishly you thought he meant walking to the building and taking an elevator like a normal person. But no, suddenly you’re airborne, tucked under his arm. When you reach the smoldering hole in the building it’s with you flailing and telling him to warn you next time. 

“What're you scared of heights?” he looks down at you with a raised eyebrow.

A beat of silence is all the answer he needs before a big grin splits his face. “Oh you so are! That’s adorable. Don’t worry I’d never drop you-” You kick him in the shin which results in the two of you bickering until Suguru reminds you both of the situation at hand.

From that point on the mission feels like a bit of whirlwind, meeting Amanai, the attack at the school, Kuroi’s kidnapping. Things don’t seem to settle into a lull until now with you lightly dozing against Suguru’s shoulder on the beach. Truthfully you hadn’t meant to fall asleep but Suguru didn’t mind, he found it cute how you’d curled up against him in an oversized hoodie and bathing suit you weren’t even putting to use. He brushes a bit of hair off your face as he speaks to Kuroi. The world is all a muffle to you as you drift somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, at least until Suguru calls out to Satoru about it being time to go followed by him gently nudging you awake. Then softly in your ear, “You need to get up now, time for us to get on with the mission.”  You blink groggily and then as it occurs to you just where you’d been napping you sit up straight about to apologize, his smile tells you that you don’t need to and so the words never reach the air. As he stands he reaches for your hand and helps you to your feet. He looks toward your companions in the water as he releases your hand after giving it a gentle squeeze. “Satoru, it’s time.”

“Oh, it’s that time already?” He replies, stopping whatever game he and Riko had been playing. Even from where you’re standing you can tell she’s disappointed. Satoru is quiet for a moment as he looks her over. “Let’s head back tomorrow morning instead.” And just like Riko’s disappointment you can also see her elation. 

Suguru frowns. “But…”

 Satoru makes his way toward the two of you. “The weather’s holding steady, right? Besides… there are fewer curse users in Okinawa than there are in Tokyo!”He turns with dramatic flair. 

Both you and Suguru give him an unimpressed look and in unison admonish him. “Let’s keep it a little more serious, Satoru.” “Please take this seriously, Gojo-senpai.” Your use of his family name earns you Satoru’s hand on your head vigorously messing up your hair. 

“It’s better if the time limit on the bounty runs out while we’re still mid-flight, right?” His hand is still on your head while you try to swat him away.

“Satoruuuu-senpai!” Those seem to be the magic words and he lifts his hand off your head. 

Ignoring the antics going on between the two of you, Suguru leans in close to Satoru so only the two of you can hear him. “Satoru. You haven’t released your technique since yesterday, have you? You haven’t slept either. And you don’t plan on sleeping tonight, do you?”

This gets your attention and suddenly guilt curls in your gut for not having realized. He must already be tired.

“Are you sure we don’t need to go back to jujutsu high?”

Satoru’s fist lightly smacks into Suguru’s chest before he starts to walk away from the two of you.“It’s not a problem. Playing through 99 years of momotetsu was far more draining and besides, you’re here too.” 

You watch the small smile play across Suguru’s lips and sense how he seems to be reassured. For you as much as you have faith in the two upperclassmen you still worry. Particularly now that you know Satoru hasn’t taken any time to rest. 

All the same the only way you can describe the rest of the day is blissful. Not just spending it with the older boys but also seeing the wonder and joy on Riko’s face. It makes you wonder what her life before was actually like. 

Even for you who deals with what can only be called magic, the aquarium is otherworldly. It makes your chest swell with wonder and you take both Satoru and Suguru by the hand when they hang too far back and get them to hurry along with you. You chatter excitedly as you pull them along. With them behind you you don’t see the look they share or the look they send your way, a look full of fondness. Truly they both think that getting chewed out by Yaga later will be worth having brought you along.

Edit: Link to master list

I could have probably stretched this out further but I really didn't feel like writing out hidden inventory scene by scene when a lot of people will have probably just watched it. I hope it's still enjoyable. I Admit I was super tempted to combine part 3 and 4 together but I'm gonna work on part 4 a bit more and will probably release it this friday. I'm really excited for it. Hopefully this part stands well on its own.

@strawberrystepmom @nanamikentoseyebags @gojoest

@icy-spicy @porridgesblog

[mailjeevasfan]

Hi!! Could you maybe do something for a Matt x Reader one shot where the reader almost gets in a fight with Matt when they first meet but then realize that he’s kind of attractive

sorry to the people who sent the requests that have been in my ask box for decades im gonna try and revive mailjeevasfan soon i swear

matt x gn!reader

you hang up the phone with a sigh. that call was pretty tough, so you try to ground yourself and look around at your surroundings. you ducked into this alley so quickly when you saw your phone ringing that you’d lost your bearings. as you absentmindedly begin to walk back out into the street, someone shoulder checks you as they speed past. you gasp involuntarily, only now realising that you were in your own world completely.

‘hey!’ you blurt out. you wouldn’t usually react at all, but you’re already in a bad mood.

the man stops and turns around, and you get a good look at him.

the first thing that catches your eye is his outfit. he’s wearing a red and black striped shirt with a fluffy vest thrown over the top. it looks old, like a hand-me-down, but it also looks very comfortable. to each their own, you think.

his shirt matches his messy red hair, and the darkness of the alley casts a shadow over his goggles, making it impossible to see his eyes.

‘…sorry, i didn’t see you there.’

his voice is slightly muffled due to the cigarette hanging from his mouth.

‘uh, it’s fine. i guess it is kind of dark.’

you look at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say now that you’ve gotten his attention. you stare at the ground, crossing your arms over your chest before he takes a step closer and speaks.

‘i like your jacket.’

you look up again, and you can see his face more clearly now. he has a very faint smirk on his face, and it annoys you ever so slightly. the streetlight he’s stood under flickers erratically.

‘…thanks…’

you want to go home and get straight into bed, but for some reason you can’t let him leave you alone.

honestly, now that you think about it, his outfit suits him just fine… he actually seems kind of cool. you watch as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

‘uh…you just gonna stare at me all night?’

his smirk is even bigger now. he almost looks like he’s about to laugh.

‘no.’

he lets out an amused exhale.

‘…are you like this to every random person you meet?’

‘no. just the cute ones.’

you smile despite yourself. it’s a small smile, you’re not even sure if he can see your face properly in this light, so it might not even be visible. however, you can see his face very clearly, along with the faint blush on his cheeks. he drops his cigarette and puts it out, keeping his eyes on the ground as he talks.

‘you know… it’s pretty dark. maybe i could, like, walk you home, or… wherever you’re going…’

he trails off. you think about his words for a second. you really shouldn’t trust this random guy to walk you home, right? but maybe he’s alright. he seems to be around the same age as you, and he’s… well, he’s honestly kind of awkward. you look at him again, and realise his face is now a lot redder.

‘okay. sure.’

you begin to walk back to your house with him, and he makes casual small talk. asking what you do, whereabouts you live, where you’re from. you make sure not too say too much, obviously still being wary of the fact that this is a total stranger. but something about his tone and energy makes it hard to do that at times. he’s almost… disarming.

‘well, uh, this is me…’

you and the man stand by the door and pause awkwardly.

‘thanks for walking me home.’

‘yeah, no worries.’

as you stare at him, you know you’re making it obvious. you’re waiting. waiting for the silence to be filled.

‘…could i, like, get your number or something, uhhh…’

he looks at you, realising he isn’t quite sure how to address you.

‘y/n. and yeah, sure.’

he hands you his phone, and you put your number in. when you hand it back, you realise you’re smiling. but you honestly don’t care anymore. he smiles back, almost smugly, and begins to walk away, lighting what’s probably his sixth cigarette of the night.

‘hey, wait, i didn’t even get your name!’

he spins around, still smiling.

‘it’s matt.’

[ourladyofoldgotham]

nightfall

j. robert oppenheimer x female reader

implied adultery, set during manhattan project

prompt by @forgottenpeakywriter

1.1k words

summary

You meet the illustrious Dr. Oppenheimer at the Los Alamos Christmas party. He asks you for a dance.

Los Alamos isn’t a socialite’s paradise, but looking around Fuller Lodge decorated for the annual personnel Christmas party, they almost could have fooled you.

A band was playing - turns out Los Alamos had a lot more musicians than you had thought - and the soft bustle of the room’s chatter rises up to the tinsel garland draped over the ceiling’s wooden beams. The electricity was always down in the evenings, and the water from the tanker trucks was in short supply, but for tonight, candles and liquor more than made up for it. 

You see him from across the room, standing at the counter. Doctor Oppenheimer is not a particularly loud man, nor a particularly imposing one. Still, there’s an air about him that seems to draw people in. He looks up and meets your gaze from across the room, and his blue eyes in the low light strike you like a bullet. You’ve heard about a million stories about him in the time that you’ve been here - you’ve heard he’s a genius of the highest degree, of course, but that’s practically a given. According to the rumors that flew through the town, he was also a Communist, a millionaire, a homewrecker, and a man that had left a trail of cultish devotion behind him in every university doing any real work in theoretical physics everywhere from Cambridge to California. You hadn’t believed a word of him until you’d met him in person. He seemed to be around every corner, in every lab, his brilliance the undercurrent at every turn. There was a sort of hypnotism that surrounded him, something that you had never seen before. You, like all the rest, were only human. Nobody could help falling under its spell. In the crowd, you lose sight of him.

It’s not until the night starts to draw to a close that you encounter him again. He startles you, tapping you on the shoulder. The light is low, scattering dim light across the wooden floor. The band plays some soft, pretty jazz tune you’re sure you’ve heard before. 

“Are you new to the Hill? I don’t think I recognize you.”

He extends his hand to you, and you shake it. 

“J. Robert Oppenheimer. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to meet.”

You introduce yourself and his eyes glimmer with a slight touch of recollection. 

“I recognize that last name. Were you at Berkley? Caltech?”

You laugh and shake your head. 

“No, you must be thinking of my husband. He was one of Professor Lawrence’s graduate students there.”

“Of course. I don’t think I could have forgotten a face like that.”

He smiles at you over the rim of his glass. 

“Let me make you a drink.” 

You lean against the edge of the counter as you watch him make a martini, rimmed in lime and honey with extra gin. 

“So where did you go to school? I know your husband works in the E-5 group, but I could swear I’ve seen you in the labs.”

“Harvard - for chemistry, summa cum laude. I wasn’t able to complete my master’s, though - we moved out here just a couple months before I would have finished. I worked under Hornig in plutonium chemistry as a lab assistant for a while, but now I’m just a courier in the library group.”

“Ah, one of Lilli’s plutonium girls. It’s important work you do, you know.”

“What, to drive back and forth from a mailbox all day with a suitcase of old books locked to my wrist like a pack mule?”

He laughs in a way that’s almost disarming, the charismatic Oppie of legend. 

“A pack mule with one of the highest military security clearance levels in the country. It has to count for something.”

He hands you your drink. It’s strong, almost dizzying in the high altitude of top of the cocktails you’d already had. He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes studying you with an emotion you can’t quite decipher.

“Do you recognize this song?”

You shake your head.

“I’m certain I’ve heard it before, but I can’t quite place my finger on it.”

“Ah, of course. It’s quite popular, but it’s not as in vogue as it used to be. It’s called Nightfall - by Benny Carter. I saw him play live once, under Henderson at the Roseland in New York. Quite brilliant men, actually - I believe Henderson was a graduate student at Columbia in chemistry briefly.”

He pauses again, considering something. His eyes flit across the diamond ring on your finger as it wraps around the stem of your glass.

“Has your husband gone home yet? I don’t see him anywhere.”

“Oh, yes, doctor. Hours ago. He doesn’t dance - and he figured I could make it back home on my own.”

“I see. Do you? Dance, I mean.”

“When I can - which hasn’t been often lately. And where is Mrs. Oppenheimer tonight?”

“She’s… She’s visiting her family in Pennsylvania. Los Alamos has never suited her.”

You watch him rub the silver wedding band on his finger, a sudden flash of tension skimming across his face. 

“And what about you? Do you dance, Dr. Oppenheimer?”

The question snaps him out of his reverie, and he smiles softly. 

“Please, call me Robert. And as a matter of fact, I do. May I have the pleasure of this one?”

He extends his hand to you, and you take it. 

“You may.”

He leads you out to the dance floor. He’s old-fashioned, almost gentlemanly - his hand rests delicately on your waist, in classic ballroom fashion. The two of you are practically the only people in the room, now - he leads you in a slow foxtrot around the room. There’s something soft in his eyes when he looks into yours that makes you feel like the only woman in the world.

When the last note of the song rings out, the two of you are standing in the center of the floor. Your head rests on his shoulder, your clasped hands pulled in close. His hand is warm on your waist through the thin fabric of your dress. 

It’s hardly the picture of propriety. The scandal of an affair between the two of you would be enormous. Somehow, you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now - not with him, dancing like this in the cool desert night. The rising moon drips silver light across the floor. With a flick of his hand, Robert signals to the band for just one more song.

couldn't resist the chance to flex my very minor jazz knowledge

[angelasscribbles]

Mortal Ascension Chapter 1: Arrival

Series: Mortal Ascension

Fandom: Heaven’s Secret (Romance Club)

Word Count: 854

Rating: MA

Warnings: None

A/N: Here we go! Fair warning, I am planning to change a lot of things so don't expect everything to line up with canon. There will also be polyamory involved. If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for this, just let me know. If you missed it, there is a prologue here.

Romance Club fanfiction master list.

All of the things: Master List.

Eden McClain was sucked into a swirling vortex of light, hurtled through dimensions, and deposited out onto hard-packed dirt. She landed unceremoniously on her ass.

Picking herself up, she brushed at the dirt on her pants and gazed around, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

She was standing in a vast barren landscape; the sky was dotted with vortexes like the one she had just come through. They were constantly opening and closing, a new person falling from them onto the ground each time they did.

After all, there were, on average, two deaths every second on Earth.

She knew she was dead, but she couldn’t say how she knew it. She had no memory of her death. Her fingers flew to her temples, where a headache throbbed. What had happened?

She scanned the environment for clues.

Angels and demons walked among the newly dead, touching them on the shoulder and then pointing them in one direction or the other. Eden turned her head to see what they were being pointed to.

To her far left was a vortex, like the ones in the sky, but oriented so you could walk into it. Indeed, there was a line of souls walking toward it, stepping in and disappearing. It was bright, giving off a warm, golden glow.

To her far right was another similarly oriented vortex, but this one was pulsing with dark energy. Black sparks flew from the opening. There was also a line for it, with some people stepping through and others being pushed. She watched as one desperate soul broke free and made a run for it. A futile attempt, as it turned out. A grinning demon grabbed the man using one arm and flung him through with a bellow.

An angel with flowing white robes approached her. His hand reached toward her shoulder, then stopped as his eyes widened. He pointed not toward either vortex, but behind her. She turned to see a small white gazebo. It looked out of place sitting in the middle of the desolate, dry landscape. An oasis in the midst of chaos.

She turned and hurried to the small pavilion, casting a glance back at the human souls being sorted into the portals to heaven and hell.

She knew where she was. Umbra. The place between realms where human souls arrived after their mortal death. Her mother had explained that much to her. But Eden wasn’t strictly human, and her mother hadn’t explained, or perhaps hadn’t known, what would happen to her after her mortal death.

Of course, no one expected her to die so young. She should have had more time.

As she approached the gazebo, a figure materialized in it. Judging from his white hair, robes, and wings, he was an angel, but the scowl on his face was more reminiscent of a demon if you asked her. He glared at her as if he already hated her, though they hadn’t even met.

She gave him a hesitant, hopefully disarming smile as she climbed the gazebo’s steps. “Hi, I’m Eden Mc—”

“I know who you are.” The angel snarled. “Another abomination.”

Her steps faltered. “What?”

“Your parents should be ashamed of breaking all the laws of heaven and hell.”

“I don’t know what you—”

“Ignorant too. Wonderful. I see they didn’t bother educating you about your true nature?”

Her chin lifted definitely. “I’m not ashamed of what I am.”

“Hm.” He barked a short laugh devoid of any actual humor. “Well, you should be.”

Anger flared through her, enough to forget to be scared of her strange new circumstances. “You should be ashamed of your rudeness! It’s not very angelic. I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you have no right to speak to me that way! My mother—”

The soft chuckle that escaped him was genuine this time. “Feisty. Keep that. You’ll need it where you’re going.”

Her chin lifted again as she pushed down her anxiety. She would not let this being know she was frightened. “And where am I going?”

“The Lyceum in Concordia.”

“What is the Lyceum? Where’s Concordia? Who are you and by what right—”

His smile vanished, replaced by his original scowl. “You ask too many questions.”

“I think I have a right to know where I’m going.”

“Fine.” He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “The Lyceum is an institute of learning for beings with demonic or angelic energy. Even mongrels dulled with human blood like you. You’ll be properly educated there.”

He reached for her, but she jerked away. “Who says I’m required to go anywhere with you?”

Malicious amusement slid behind his eyes. “The high council that rules by divine right on behalf of Yatsar, that’s who.”

“But who are you?” she demanded again.

His face twisted into a mask of anger. “Fencio, the archangel in charge of the Lyceum. Now stop being a truculent child! I have better things to do today than deal with the likes of you.”

He lunged for her, grabbing her by the shoulder, and they both misted out of existence.

[anathemafiction]

Have you watched the film "Portrait of a lady on fire"? If not please ignore my ask and perhaps watch this beautifully stunning historical drama about 2 women falling in love. If you have there is one scene that reminds me so much of Lance and Romanus dynamic. /watch?v=YKTpig51ajI (is the yt link if interested) The word count is to short to elaborate my thoughts but it reminds me so much of them

"Do not lie to me."

You have to laugh. "What do you mean? I'm not lying."

Lance rises from his chair. "I have watched you, mercenary," he says. "It's my job to do so, after all. I can tell when you lie: you make longer sentences and lift your chin as if you're daring the world to call you out on it."

You slowly lower your chin and take him in. He looks much too confident for your liking, with his arms crossed and a triumphant tone to his voice. Does he not see it? "Lance, but I've watched you too."

He smiles. "I—"

"You do that smile, that exact one, whenever you think you know something that others don't," you interrupt, stepping closer to him. "You also smile when people ask you anything personal, but it's different. You don't tilt your lips so much, it's… meant to be disarming, and I suppose it is. But it never really fooled me. It's stiff, Lance. It pales in comparison to your genuine smile."

You're right next to him, facing him fully. You hold his gaze and see the grey in his eyes widen in surprise. "When you're nervous, you drum your fingers on your leg. When you're angry, although it's so rare that I've only seen it twice, you raise your eyebrows and tilt your head to the side."

You take another step, getting into his space. Lance's hand goes to his pants, but then he stops, and you smile when you bush your knuckles with his. "Were you about to drum them?" you whisper. "Do I make you nervous?"

"Would the realization that someone watches you not make anyone nervous?" he says, eyes on your hands.

You smile. "When you don't want to lie, you deflect. You do that a lot, you know? For a bard and a spy, you seem to have an odd aversion to lying."

Lance is quiet. "And when I do lie?" he asks, at last, his voice a whisper. He lifts his face, and now it's his eyes that bore into yours. "What do I do then?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I haven't caught you in a lie so far."

Lance's thumb brushes over your pinkie. You hold your breath. "Perhaps… I have not yet lied to you," he says and flashes you a gold-toothed smile before turning away. You stay in place, looking at his retreating back.

He does that too. He runs a lot too.

- - -

I haven't watched that movie, but I saw the scene, and it's beautiful, anon! (´༎ຶ ͜ʖ ༎ຶ )♡ You're absolutely right that it's going to be a dynamic between Romanus and Lance. I like to think of his romance (and his friendship too) as a game of cat-and-mouse.

A kind of dance where one party advances two steps only for the other to retreat three back.

[the-moon-lullaby]

Can you write How the hsl boys would comfort you after your bestfriend betrayed and ghosted you

The HSL boys comforting you after your « best friend » betrayed you

N/A: Oh man, betrayal from so-called "best friends" are the worst if you ask me. If anyone has been through this before or is currently going through that, please keep in mind that this says more about them than about you. You don't deserve this and no matter the circumstances, this is absolutely not your fault <3

𝙲𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚕:

First things first, Castiel knows pretty well how does it feel like to be betrayed by someone you loved and trusted (I mean Debrah did him really wrong as we know)

Hence, even if he's a tease most of time, when you start telling him about what your so-called best friend did to you, he'll listen diligently

He wouldn't say much while you explain the situation but anger is starting to grow inside him

Because, that would make him mad

Once your done, he would totally let out some insults ( he would also  encourage you do the same as well because just let it out dear)

If you are crying, he'll probably be a bit disarmed as he's doesn't really know how to comfort people (he mostly deals with his problems on his own so looking for comfort is not something he's used to, let alone comforting someone else )

So he'll do what feels right to him which is taking you his arms while you calm down a little

If your best friend ghosted you after betraying you, he'll kinda be like "yeah they can f*ck off, you don't need this snake in your life anyway"

Honestly, even if somehow your "best friend" comes back and apologised, he'll still remember (and he'll be pissed if your forgive them because maybe you moved on but he hasn't lol)

He would totally take it personally because betrayal is a sensitive topic for him and the fact that it happened to you enrages him (bcs you don't deserve this treatment, who tf would do that ???)

If they attend school with you guys, he'll certainly throw them a death stare each time they pass by (and he knows how to look scary) but won't go talk to them or anything (even though he really wants to let them know what he thinks of them so if you give him a green light he might go and roast the shit out of them)

𝙻𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 :

You would tell him about the situation and he would listen without interrupting you 

If you’re crying while speaking, he’ll gently whip the tears off your cheeks

When you’re done, he would take you his arms for as long as you need to

He would find the words (because when does this man doesn’t know what to say-)

He would tell you that they didn’t deserve you anyway (and he’s right) and ask if you want to do something to change your mind

Would be up to do anything as long as it makes you smile

If they ghosted you after betraying you, he’ll be mad because not only they’ve hurt like that but they won’t even face the consequences ? Tsss cowards

The following days, he’ll try to be present for you as much as possible because he can only imagine the pain and how lonely you feel

I think that one of the reason why Lysander keep such has such a small circle of friends it’s because he knows that, personally, he would hurt like hell if someone he loved and trusted betrayed him (he has a sensible heart and always give his all in any relationship therefore this is probably the worst thing that could happen to him)

𝙰𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗 :

Okay so Armin isn’t really a man of drama or at least that’s what it looks like 

However, his brother is Alexy (I think that says it all)

It means that he’s going to end up in the drama anyway so he’s kinda use to it (because as he already said it in the game Alexy’s would come to the rescue of his worst enemy so it’s not hard to imagine that Alexy already ended up trusting the wrong person and then went to Armin for comfort)

While you’re telling him about it, he would sometimes interrupt you by saying « No way ?! » or « That bitch » ‘cause yeah, even he (and he heard a lot of these stories before) did not expect your « best friend » to be such a snake

Then once you’re done telling him, he’ll do what he does when it happen with Alexy 

Be the better person ? Come on, we don’t believe in such things in this household

He’ll ask you if you want to take revenge and if you do, then you guys will be setting up some machiavelous plan

But if you don’t (and according to the circumstances you might be right because snakes like these aren’t worth the trouble, let alone a detention you know), he won’t insist 

He’ll probably ask you if you want to play some games to distract yourself and you’ll end gaming with Armin for hours and you’d have fun (he’s trying harder to make you laugh to cheer you up and that’s kind of sweet)

Even if you said that you didn’t want to take revenge or anything, he’ll never miss a chance to embarrass them 

Be prepare for him to make up some nasty and snarky remarks just for them

Others say it’s a childish thing to do but for Armin, he sees an opportunity to give them a taste of their medicine

𝙽𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚕 :

He didn’t expect it (in HSL he wasn’t yet in his « can’t trust anybody » phase and he was kinda new to the concept of friendship since he just got his freedom)

He’ll be pissed because Nath is loyal person so he can’t even understand how your best friend could even think of doing something like that 

He’ll hug you tight, he feels so sorry for you. He would ask you if you to talk a bit more about it and if you do, he’d listen. 

If you don’t well he’d find something else to do because he can’t stand to see you so upset

Would probably take you to see Blanche in hope that this would cheer you up and you would spend the entire afternoon at his place , with him by your side

Now, be the better person ? No, no. Unlike Armin, he wouldn’t straight up want to come up with a plan to put them down 

He’s the Student Body President so he’s not supposed to condone this kind of behaviour 

However you have to admit that his position offers some advantages 

People blindly trust his word and he might use it to his (and your) advantage 

He’ll go to them and be like « Oh yeah, you know that exam that counts for 80% of the final grade in this subject ? Well, I just heard that it was due for next week actually » (it’s not, it’s due in 2 days and we know that they didn’t study it since they thought they had time)

He’ll enjoy seeing their face literally crumbles during the test

After that he’ll only address to them with this passive-aggressive tone of his

𝙺𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗 :

He would be as upset as you are (if not more)

I feel like Kentin is really empathetic (he’ll deny it to death but he do feel things very deeply and can easily get affected by other’s emotions especially if it’s someone he loves and cares about)

If you’re crying, he might end up crying with you because this is too much for him

He’d hug before you’re even done explaining the situation because you obviously need some comfort (and so does he)

When you both calmed down, he’ll be pissed

He wants to stand up for you and if you’d like him to, he’d totally go teach them a little lesson 

He’s not sure how he would manage to do that but that’s not going to stop him from trying 

Anything to make you feel better honestly 

There you go ! Hope you liked it !

[argisthebulwark]

hi! i'm writing a fic with brynjolf in it, and i'm having trouble getting a feel for his character. you seem to know a lot about the guy, so i was just wondering: what are the three most important things you think a depiction of brynjolf should have? what three things most encompass him? (i would also appreciate if you could point me in the direction of any other brynjolf connoisseurs who could be of help)

thanks for thinking of me!! i think i write him differently depending on if he's the main love interest of the story or not. when writing him as a main character i think the most important things about him (to me) are:

attachment issues due to losing important figures like Karliah and Gallus at a young age. i feel like this gives him more depth, a reason for the 'sorry lass' line and him pulling away after the quest's complete. grief is important to the way i write him, especially during the time when the LDB is presumed dead after snow veil sanctum. he looks for them even when he thinks they've died he still looks, desperate to find them.

a deep commitment to the thieves guild. in most depictions of him it is the only family Brynjolf has ever known and i think his dedication to the guild would know no bounds. he handles the guild when the various guild masters are away, he has been Mercer's second in command for who knows how many years, and he has more duties than anyone else in the guild (recruiting, job assignment, training, client relationships, etc)

a natural charisma that he knows how to wield. he knows that his smile and accent can charm people, distracting them long enough to empty their pockets. he's suave and knows how to disarm people with it. for me it's important to always remember that he is an especially gifted thief as well as a lovesick goober.

when writing him as a side character instead of a main love interest i don't feel the need to go too in depth about his emotional issues. i mostly use him as a support to whoever the main character is - Brynjolf loves his found family even if they annoy him, and he would want the best for them. i think he'd be especially supportive and willing to nudge someone in the right direction. i like to thicken his accent too because i absolutely adore it. the three terms that would encompass how i personally write him would be something like: dedication, emotional turmoil, and cunning.

good choice picking Brynjolf, a lot of people in the tesblr/skyrim writing communities have great characterizations of him. i'll link a couple posts that helped solidify his character in my mind but you could really ask anyone! we all love him and crafted a personality together that bethesda neglected <3 this post by @otvlanga absolute banger by @incorrectskyrimquotes like every incorrect quote @nerevar-quote-and-star has about him

[merakiui]

omg i loved the discord mod idia post !!! he's so slimy [like the meddling tweels hehe] but he tries so hard 😔😔 and omg the tags?? depraved discord mod azul?? can we pls hear your thoughts on him :oo

(also i hope you're doing well!!! :D)

Discord mod Idia is so gross and slimy, but we love him. <3

Now as for discord mod Azul!!!!

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, implied kidnapping)

Outside of being a mod, he’s actually really successful. He either runs an entire corporation or he has a high-paying position at one. You probably work alongside him. Maybe he’s a coworker you occasionally talk brief business with when you happen to find yourself in the elevator with him, or you meet at the ground floor coffee shop just below the company’s floors. You’d never expect he’s the mod you’re in an online relationship with. You’d never expect that this silver-tongued, pressed suit-wearing individual is a filthy Magicord mod in private, who you met in a server designed like a deep-sea lounge after breaking a few rules and he’d so kindly decided to spare you.

This person who is absolutely ruthless when it comes to climbing the social ladder and annihilating any competition is the same one who texts you day and night, referring to you as his precious angelfish, his beloved pearl, his sweet siren. The man who stole that promotion from you—who proceeded to pat you on the back with a consoling smile that jeered ‘better luck next time’ when you fretted over the news—is the exact man who spends absurd amounts of money on you, who listened to you touch yourself while whispering filthy things into the mic during a heated VC, who tells you of everything he wishes to do with you when the two of you finally meet.

You don’t even know his real name and he doesn’t know yours either, and you certainly have no idea that he’s that annoying coworker you hate with a passion. He calls himself Sea Witch on Magicord, which is fitting for the server’s marine theme. It’s actually a very cozy place! Lots of people hang out in VCs, it’s organized into labeled sections, and it’s got very good security measures. There’s a vice-mod who’s simply named J and another (not truly a mod but he claims he has mod abilities) user who goes by all sorts of names. It’s always changing. Just last week he was sneakerluvr42069 and now he’s tastykoebi. You haven’t had many exchanges with either of them, but it seems like they know Sea Witch well. Either way, the connection doesn’t mean much to you. You’re just glad he’s so willing to buy you anything and everything you ask for.

You once tried to dig a little deeper—to find out just who Sea Witch is. When you asked him what he looked like, he’d simply turned the question on you. You rarely send him photos of yourself, but when you do they’re usually explicit (most are of you in the lingerie and other outfits he buys you) and your face isn’t shown. He thinks you have a very desirable body. You’d like to see his, but he’s always evasive with any questions regarding who he is behind the Sea Witch mask. He must have a cushy job if he’s able to spend large amounts on you. When questioned about that, he just joked about how having a tongue of silver helps. You wonder what that truly means.

Beyond Sea Witch, Azul is actually surprisingly normal on the surface. He has his eccentricities, but most of these are hidden behind a disarming persona. He drapes himself in finery: golds and silvers, luxury brands, expensive colognes—typical rich normie stuff according to Idia. Azul hates going out in public. He hates having to smile and act kind at the office. He hates his coworkers. He hates having to put in so much effort just to look a certain way. He’d prefer to spend his time inside, reading, watching TV, messaging his angelfish. He loves his days off the most because he’s free to be as introverted as he wants without having to act. It’s just him, the comforting confines of his home, oversized pajamas, and a day free of responsibilities.

Azul usually spends these days talking to you, and when you aren’t available he’s taking up new hobbies with you in mind. He’s started tending to houseplants after you mentioned it briefly during one of your conversations. He’s also trying to get into miniature cooking because you sent him a compilation video of it and he wants to impress you with his talents. And he’s always browsing erotic sites to find the toys that fit your preferences. He wonders how you’d look in handcuffs, in cosplay, in collars and blindfolds. Most of all, he wonders how you’d look with his tentacles wrapped around you.

Azul doesn’t send you many pictures of his real life. He fears you might try to pry again and he doesn’t want that. It’s much better if you love Sea Witch instead of Azul. Sea Witch is mysterious, cool, unique, attractive. Azul is…Azul. He’s not very good at romance. He’s not very good with confidence, but Sea Witch is. Azul can act all he wants, but it’s impossible to feel happy with himself no matter what he does. When he’s Sea Witch, he can spin all sorts of tales without having to attach his appearance to any of it. You can love him for his money, his sense of humor, his taste in aesthetics, and he’ll never have to show you his face! Of course there are days when Azul peers at himself in the mirror and is struck with a sudden surge of confidence and he considers sending a spontaneous selfie or, Great Seven forbid, a dick pic. Really, he has so much class and a dick pic is just not the path he wishes to travel. Besides, scanty images are what you do best, not him. He’d much rather admire the artwork than become it himself.

Plus, when the two of you meet and he decides to keep you, you’ll get to see it in person. Surely that’s better than some grainy photograph. It’d look much nicer inside you, a good, snug fit. :)

To say Azul likes you would be a very big understatement. He’s infatuated, so much that he often messages you whenever he has the chance. You’re the first thing he thinks of when he wakes and the last thing he considers when falling asleep. He’s even taken to talking to you during work hours, his phone brightness dimmed to prevent any nosy onlookers from glimpsing his private exchanges. He realizes that texting and occasionally voice calling isn’t enough. He really wants to meet you in person. He wants to touch you, kiss you, hold you. He’s certain you’ll want that, too.

Azul just needs to finalize what remains of a secret space within his home. It’s just temporary, as all pain often is, and you won’t have to stay there forever if you can promise to be good for him. He’s always had this little fantasy, and it’s only grown with each passing day. In it, he’s married to you and you wait diligently for him to come home from work and you’re clawing at him for affection the minute he steps through the door. In it, you’re nothing without him. You crave his love, his touch, his dick. You kiss him all over, breathless and sloppy, as if he might vanish from your sight if you can’t pin him down with enough saccharine smooches. You always tell him how much you adore him, how you’ll always be here for him, how you’d never think of leaving him. Aside from the happenings of sweet, fluffy love, the two of you fuck on every piece of furniture, in every room, against every surface. He always cums inside. You always hold him close and praise him and tell him his dick is big and you love it and you love him and… It’s a really good fantasy! He’s working so hard to make it a reality.

And in this perfect dream of his, he’s all you’ll ever need. This one is important! You don’t need anyone else. You’ll only need him. You don’t need friends or family. You don’t need to work. He’ll give you a comfortable life that’s filled with affection.

So naturally Azul is livid when you message him saying you no longer wish to continue this relationship. You thank him for his time and everything he’s done for you, as courteous as ever, and then you unadd him. You wash your hands of him. You cast him aside. You leave his server, you stop contacting him, and you disappear. And his hearts—all three of them—shatter. Outside of Sea Witch, he’s lonely. He has no one who waits for him at home. He has no one who’ll cook him homemade meals, each made with love and care. He has no one who he can delight in married life with. He’s all alone.

Azul’s miserable. It’s hard to tell at work because he smiles through the suffering so that no one will suspect anything. He’s not sure what happened to his angelfish. Even Jade and Floyd were unable to contact you or find any traces of your user in other servers. He’s considered enlisting Idia’s help, but then that would mean he has to admit that he lost you. That he wasn’t able to retrieve you. That you’re drifting in a vast sea of people—of potential suitors! So he does what he does best: he thinks and he plans. He considers every plausible explanation, and within the month he’s arrived at many conclusions. Each is more frustrating than the last. He hates to think that you’d leave him for someone else. Honestly, what went wrong? What did he do incorrectly? Surely there was a part of him you found undesirable. Surely it’s his fault you left. There has to be a reason for all of this, but it’s been a month and there’s still no trace of you. His sanity is beginning to splinter.

When he hears a familiar name weeks later, his mind still in eternal mourning mode, he perks up at once. Someone’s talking about Sea Witch. Online dating. Uninstalling Magicord. Weird vibes. Wanting a face to face connection instead of something long-distance. Azul can’t believe his ears. Is this a coincidence? Is he just hearing things? Has he gone insane or has his angelfish always been this close?

You and the colleague you were talking to are gone before he can turn the corner and get a look at you. But hope is already sprouting within him. If what he heard is true—if you’re really his angelfish—then his life just got a lot better. He’ll find you, and when he does he’ll finally be back on track. He’ll finally get to begin his dream life with you.

And you’ll learn to love the man behind Sea Witch.