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#oh and also sage is another exception
zippityzap · 5 months
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Thinking about it, most of the Eggman/Robotnik henchmen across different iterations of him fall into one of two categories: two dipshits, or an abused smart guy who either really loves or really hates Robotnik
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bunnyteetharry · 10 months
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Boyfriend
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summary: pranking Harry with the “calling your husband boyfriend” trend
warnings: none? light spanking, use of brat
pairing: husband!arry x wife!reader
————⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆ —————⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚。⋆ —————⋆ ˚。⋆
It was late into the afternoon
You were sprawled on the couch bundled up in your favorite sage blanket with the TV playing on low volume as background noise
You were scrolling mindlessly on TikTok when you came across a video of a women calling her husband boyfriend right in front of him and getting the funniest reaction, you were dying to do this to Harry and what better timing then to do it now that he’s been more at home since taking a mild break from touring and going to the studio here and there when he feels like it
You knew he was in the home library catching up on his tbr stack that you collecting for him whilst he was touring
It was a thing you did for one another
Grabbing books or nicknacks that you knew the other would enjoy
Earlier you asked if he was feeling hungry for anything and you both agreed on ordering in so you made your way towards the room he was in, your idea was to order food in front of him but in actually you’re just going to be on a fake call with the camera facing him
“Baby!” You called out as you entered “Yes m’love” he hummed grabbing his bookmark and placing the book on the side wooden table that was next to him
“Did you want to get Chinese food for dinner tonight?” He smiled and nodded “Yeah that sounds great, did you want me to called them?” shaking your head you pulled out your phone from your pocket “Ill do it you just continuing reading” you smiled widely and plopped down next to him on the small brown crouch with pink flowers printed all around it, you had picked it out together when you passed by a garage sale in your neighborhood
He looked at you suspiciously as he knew you didn’t like making phone calls when it comes to ordering or phone calls in general since it freaked you out but this time he just decide to brush this off and picked up his book
In the middle of your fake order that’s when the prank began
“Yes, and my boyfriend would like to get the same thing except with fried rice for the second side”
Harry paused for a minute, not quite sure he heard you correctly but as he slowly started to register what you had said his eyebrow rose, his jaw was clench and he had a smirk rising up on his face
What was going through his head, you didn’t know, but were you excited to see how this was going to play out? oh defiantly
“Okay perfect, thank you!” You ‘ended’ the call and founded Harry starring blankly at you
“Yes?” You smiled and giggled “Boyfriend huh?” He had this dark look casted over his eyes that made you laugh even more ‘Oh this is funny to you” you covered your mouth as you smiled “I did nothing wrong” he hummed and nodded before placing his book back down and wrapping his hands tightly around your ankles pulling you right to him, it was a small couch so you were dragged immediately to him
You screamed out laughing as he hovered above you, pushing down your arms to your side as he trapped your legs between his thighs to stop you from ever kicking
He flipped you around and you immediately screamed again “No Harry I’m sorry!” he ignored your pleases and continued, roughly he smacked your ass, part of you was happy you had clothes on so the impact didn’t hurt as much but at the same time this man is stronger than you
“You’re a brat” he mumbled sitting back down “It was funny admit it” you crawled onto his lap and positions his face to look at you, he smiled and rolled his eyes, giving you a soft peck
“I’m your husband, understand? Have been for four years, not some fucking boyfriend anymore” he nuzzled his head towards your neck lightly pressing kisses “Mm definitely can’t post this” his head perked up “Post what?” you immediately slid off his lap and ran out of the room
“Nothing!”
a/n: wasn’t feeling it half way but enjoy! also I’m taking request if anyone wants to suggest anything :)
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surelynotaspider · 2 months
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Gaining Interest
Al-Haitham x gn!reader
-> IN WHICH Al-Haitham realises he fucked up but you don't care anymore.
-> Wordcount: ~1,3k
Masterlist
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Part 1
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Al-Haitham left Kaveh's room as soon as the news sickered through. His roommate must have made a sick joke, yeah that's right. He's lying. You're still in Sumeru. You're still by his side. You wouldn't leave. Surely.
He kept telling himself the same lies and delusions for days and days without an end. He still set the table for two. Cooked for two. Made coffee in the morning for two. And all of that was not for Kaveh. But you never came back. Maybe you never will.
Al-Haitham's days turned monotone and lifeless. You're not there to cheer him up and his roommate keeps reminding him how he fucked up.
And to make things worse, every little thing reminds him of you.
The keys with the keychain that you made yourself for him on your first anniversary, saying it's nothing special but it's a reference to his favourite book that no one cares about.
Except you.
Another lonely day passed and Al-Haitham fell asleep only to experience the most restless sleep he will have in his entire life. With you by his side, that would never happen.
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You woke up to the best sleep you had in your entire life. The bright sun shined through your window and the lively chatter from the locals outside of your home. Being away from Sumeru was like heaven on earth.
The atmosphere was completely different. Your previous lonely and cold days were filled with warmth and laughter. You now have a new, better life with friends, a good job and no one that gives no regard to your feelings. It lifted a huge load off your shoulders and you felt like you could finally breathe.
Saying that you didn't love Al-Haitham anymore is a lie and you know it. But you also know that it's okay and you're willing to move on. Turn the page and start a chapter life.
Without him.
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After a month, Al-Haitham couldn't handle it anymore. He needed you back. He worked night and day to take enough time off to meet you. He has to convince you to come back.
Quickly checking if he had packed everything, he left his house. It's been so long since he took time off for vacation or spending time with his loved ones.
The journey to Liyue flew by fast. To say Al-Haitham was nervous was an understatement. He was anxious, indecisive and always on the edge. His knee was always moving up and down, and his hands were constantly brushing through his hair and what's even worse, he didn't know what to say to you.
An apology is a given. How can he not? But what's next? A declaration of love? Empty Promises? He doesn't know. This situation is completely new to him. You're his first and last girlfriend.
Al-Haitham is a genius. He graduated at the top of his class. His bookshelf is filled with books of all kinds of knowledge. From botanics to physics to cooking. He has it all. Christ, he's the Acting Grand Sage. Currently the highest position in Sumeru.
He can speak 20 languages, and love is not one of them.
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Al-Haitham's heart almost stopped when he spotted you.
You were sitting with your new friends and you were laughing. He hasn't heard that sound in so long. He can't even remember when he last did.
Oh, is that how much he neglected you? When was the last time your eyes were shining so bright? When did you last laugh with him? What about a smile? He can't remember. He can't remember. How can he not remember?
Why is it that he can recall every type of poisonous plant and every so slight weakness of monsters, but as soon as it's about you everything is blank?
How much did you have to suffer for you to finally leave? It's a miracle you stayed as long as you did.
Hours passed and he did not move from his spot. He has been waiting for you to stand up and say your goodbyes. Not in a creepy way, no. He just wanted to talk to you as soon as possible.
Which was right now.
"[Name]."
You stopped in your tracks. Your eyes widened. Why was he here? Did you forget something at his house? Did you owe him some money? No, that can't be.
Your brain was trying to come up with reasons why he was here but with no luck.
You took a deep breath and turned around.
"What are you doing here?" Your mood was the complete opposite of when you were with your friends. You kept your distance and your gaze was filled with coldness, not the usual happiness when you were with him.
"I wanted to apologise.
"I apologise for what I did. No words can express how guilty I feel for ignoring and neglecting you for months without an end.
"Work has kept me too busy to even notice how you're feeling. I prioritised it over our relationship and it pains me to realise it only now. I know that's no excuse, but I hope you can forgive me, [Name]."
"Al-Haitham." You looked him in the eyes. "You're the Acting Grand Sage. Nothing will change and we both know it." He looked nervous, playing with his keychains. "I will do better, I promise! I will be home for dinner. I will not miss any more dates or anniversaries and I will take time off to spend time with you monthly- no, weekly!"
"I'm sorry, but I can't go back. I have new friends here. I'm happy."
He still wasn't letting it go. "But you said you're only staying for 6 months-" "They offered me a permanent position." You interrupted him. "I accepted."
Silence followed. Your inner conflict is fought between keeping it or saying something.
It died down as soon as Al-Haitham started to talk again.
"I need you." He finally said and you've never seen him so devastated and conflicted than now. The Al-Haitham you knew was rational and always prepared. Never desperate, never needy.
However, the Al-Haitham in front of you was the complete opposite. The desperation was clearly written in his eyes. His body never stood still, showing you he was anxious, awaiting your response.
You were contemplating whether to go back or not. You knew you would never be truly happy by his side. Maybe that's why you felt so guilty for saying the next two words.
"I don't."
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The sound of a door closing filled the house. Back in Sumeru, he is.
Without you.
Al-Haitham looked defeated. He knows he can't convince you no matter what he says and it hurts. It hurts so much. Knowing that you were right in front of him but yet miles away made his heart painfully ache.
He always thought of himself as a rational, unwavering man. His emotions never get the best of him. Anger, tears and frustration were useless and unnecessary to him. Why cry if you can figure out a solution to the problem?
Oh, but what if you can't find a solution to the problem? What's the next step? What were you supposed to do now? He didn't know, so he cried, probably for the first time in years. Ugly, hot tears ran down his face and he didn't even care to wipe them away.
He deserved it for what he's done to you and it will haunt him in his dreams for years if not forever. Words cannot express his regrets and remorse and actions can't either. He swore to himself to never let this happen again. Next time he will not put work above you. Next time he will listen to every little thing you say. Whether it's about your new hobby or the bug you saw on your way home. And next time he will appreciate your presence so much more.
But deep in his subconsciousness, he knew.
There will never be a next time.
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Fin
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Not proofread
Tag List:
@the-real-fandom-person @xiaosonlybeloved
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linzerj · 8 months
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Just getting this idea out there so that maybe I'll actually finish writing it one day, but -
I've been on a Legend of Zelda kick recently. Currently replaying BOTW. Never played AOC but I've watched gameplay and all the cutscenes so I know what happens. Planning to play that and TOTK again soon. But I've got this idea cooking in my head.
Theres a post that talks about "what if you could find the Divine Beasts in the Depths", and another funny post that was just "what if Teba was the sage of Wind and not Tulin?" And I remembered when BOTW had just come out, and then AOC after, and people were speculating about the characters, like Teba, being the New Champions and getting to bond to the Divine Beasts.
That didn't happen in canon, but. Hear me out. What if even just one of the Divine Beasts bonded with a New Champion... like say, the one who doesn't become a Sage?
Teba, Sidon, Riju, and Yunobo return from their adventure in the past/alternate timeline/whatever, having saved those Champions and that Hyrule from destruction. Their own timeline is still the same, but they continue on as they do in canon.
Except they all meet up shortly after returning home, and one of them (Sidon or Riju maybe) asks "hey did anyone else try going to the Divine Beasts only to get rejected" and while the rest are like "yup wonder what that's about, sad" Teba is like "no wtf are you all talking about I was settling back in with my wife and kid."
But something about it sticks with Teba. He goes home, looks up at Vah Medoh, and thinks, 'it probably won't work but I may as well try just to confirm.'
...Vah Medoh accepts him as its new pilot.
I'm unsure as to whether or not Revali's spirit will still be there for a quick hello - but if he is, he'd be like "whomst?!" And Teba would be like "if you were still alive I'd definitely adopt you because thanks to some time travel shenanigans i know that you desperately needed a parental figure in your life".
Mostly everything else proceeds as is canon up to the start of TOTK - except for the other Divine Beasts continuing to chill at their resting places, because upon hearing about Teba successfully bonding with Medoh, the others want to keep trying.
But, for whatever reason, Hylia decided that you cannot be both a Sage and a Divine Beast pilot, so the Beasts acknowledge them but never quite accept them as their pilots.
Then, TOTK. Then the chasms. Then, the other 3 Divine Beasts taking a plunge into the Depths.
Teba freaks out a little bit, but Medoh is circling Rito Village and is fine, except now there's these random floating islands but also a fuckass blizzard that's making it almost impossible to keep everyone fed, and Teba's just been saddled with Elder status so he's super in charge and Tulin is in a bit of a "I can do anything let me prove it let's go" phase and is trying to convince Teba to use Vah Medoh to fly up and stop the blizzard, but Teba is way too busy trying to keep the village from falling apart to go right now -
Then Link shows up, and Tulin runs off, and Link follows him, and the two go up and find the Stormwind Ark and fight Colgera and as the magical blizzard finally ends, Teba is just like "what the fuck".
Tulin tells him he's become a Sage, and isn't that cool dad?! And Teba is like "you're 12 and you're going to help fight a demon king?!?! Wtf?!"
But then at some point, Tulin (who knows the other Sages from that time he was in AOC, and meeting them a few times with his dad after) one day looks up from his breakfast and says "oh hey Sidon just became the Sage of Water! I saw it through my connection with Link!" And that's when it clicks into place for Teba why the Beasts never quite accepted the other "New Champions" - because they were destined for something else.
But Vah Medoh is still here. And it's pissed that it's fellow Beasts are gone and it also wants to blast Ganondorf in the face.
Unfortunately, Teba can't let it blast the castle when Link and co go to confront the Zelda illusion, because Tulin is there, Link is there, Sidon and Riju and Yunobo are there, and it's not the real demon king yet anyway.
Teba is grumpy about it, about letting Tulin go off and risk his life when he's a child and Teba is an adult, but then a huge dark dragon explodes out from the chasm below the castle and Vah Medoh is all too happy to fire upon it, knowing it's Ganondorf and wanting some sweet revenge of its own.
Teba's just surprised he can see the dark dragon, it's huge but he'd heard tales of only the young, or those chosen by thr goddesses, could see dragons. Maybe it's because of Vah Medoh that he can see this one, and the little light dragon that comes in and - hey is that Link?!
Maybe it ends with Teba going down to the Depths with Link to visit the other Divine Beasts, and suggesting that the locations stay known so that future generations may try to awaken them. They don't really need the Beasts anymore since both Calamity Ganon and Ganondorf have been defeated, but Medoh doesn't want to turn off and is happy just chilling at Rito Village with Teba. The end.
I have like 2.5k of this already written, I just wanted to use this post to write more of the ideas for the fic structure before I go to bed lol. And this idea probably doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense canon-wise, but it doesn't need to because the only reason this exists is because i love Teba and wish he'd gotten more screntime (or at least some spoken dialogue in the cutscenes!) in TOTK.
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dokojuice · 2 years
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one piece au where everything is exactly the same except sanji had already previously met ace at the baratie during one of ace’s solo voyages
-
“Nice seeing you again.” Sanji said, lifting a cigarette up to his lips with a smile.
Ace turned towards the voice and his face lit up with joy. He points at Sanji with glee.
“Yo! Luffy, you have this guy on your crew? He’s great!”
Luffy’s head turns back and forth, darting between his cook and his brother. “Huh? Ace, do you know Sanji?”
Ace nods happily. “We met back in East Blue, at that restaurant.”
“I should have known you two were related.” Sanji shakes his head with a feigned exasperation. “Same bottomless appetite.”
-
“What the fuck is happening inside there?” Sanji muttered, blowing out a puff of smoke before walking back through the back-door into the kitchens where he returned from his brief smoke break
The kitchen was in a frenzy, every cook rushing between sizzling pans and boiling pots, and servers even opting in and out of prepping dishes for serving.
“What the hell?! Oi,” Sanji grabbed one of the new rookie chefs by the back of the collar. “What’s going on?”
“A-A customer outside! He ordered one of everything on the menu!”
“HUH?!”
The Baratie menu was five pages, double-sided, with four dishes on each, excluding the drinks and desserts.
“What kind of customer orders forty dishes?!”
“SHHH!” The rookie chef looks around frantically, as if hiding from someone beneath all the noise in the chaos. “He’s a Whitebeard Pirate Commander!”
Sanji’s eyes widened in shock, and steadily joins in preparing the dishes. He carries the first quarter dozen and sets it down on the man’s table. It wasn’t that hard to find, considering the man had a giant tattoo of the infamous Whitebeard’s jolly roger on his back. Also, he was a pirate, so he sat like one. Slack, with legs wide apart and hands behind his head with a bright orange hat settling over his face.
“Your food, sir.” Sanji starts, spreading out the four plates across as another server followed close behind, setting down another three.
The man sat up immediately and looked down with glee. “Thanks so much!”
As if to chime in, Sanji heard the man’s stomach rumble loudly. Sanji smiled. It’s a joy in his life to serve those who are hungry. “Enjoy it. It’s the greatest damn food on the sea.”
The man nodded, thanking him again and digging in. Sanji figured that the first seven plates would be enough to at least sage the appetite of the man a little, so he held up a hand when another one of the servers was on their way out with another four.
“Hold on, there’s no way he’s-”
Sanji’s cut off by a loud slam behind him, followed by loud gasps and screams. He whips his head around and pushes open the kitchen door to the dining area, to see the man face-down in the table, surrounded by shards of broken glass on the floor and in a ring around his head.
“Did he just-?!”
Sanji runs over and carries the man out of his chair, laying him out on the floor. He lays a finger on the side of the man’s neck, desperately searching for a pulse.
“Shit...”
He takes his place over the man’s torso and begins to press Sanji turns his head up towards the shocked diners, who are at a loss just as much as he is.
“IS ANYONE A DOC-”
“Snrk- Oh?”
The man sits up in a shock, dazed and confused. He blinks the sleep away from his eyes, which widen when he sees the cute waiter on his lap. Said waiter is looking down at him with his eyes wide in shock.
“Ah. Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”
Sanji’s brain short-circuits before his face flushes red.
“YOU BASTARD!” Sanji brings a fist down and knocks him on the head before thinking. The guests gasp again, this time in shock.
“He just hit a Whitebeard commander!”
“Do you think he’s gonna come here?!”
“Ah-” Sanji’s eyes boggle even wider and he jumps off the man in a hassle (why was he still on him?!) “I-I’m so sorry, p-please, don’t hold this against the restaurant.”
To his surprise, and the shock of all the patrons around him, the man begins to laugh. He throws his head back and laughs so hard, his hat falls off his head. Loose black curls fall around his face in a cute halo. His chortles die down and he shakes his head, waving his arms up in a ‘no way’ gesture.
“Please, rest assured, I won’t do anything like that. I imagine I caused quite a shock anyways so that was pretty well-warranted.”
He rubs his head tenderly with a smirk. “You know, you’re pretty strong. Wanna join the Whitebeard pirates? We could always use more cooks. All the better if they’re strong, too.”
Sanji splutters with a heavy blush at the praise before turning and stomping away, cursing under his breath that the man was an idiot.
-
It was when Sanji came back from his third smoke break of the night when he sees that man again, this time over one of the sinks in the kitchen.
“EH-What are you doing back here?!”
The man lifts his head over the plate he’s washing, and Sanji doesn’t like the little twist his heart does at the sight of the man’s hair tied back out of his face.
“Oh! Hi again. The old guy told me I had to wash the dishes to pay for the ones I broke. He’s a pretty scary guy, I can see where you get your strength from.”
“Don’t compliment me as if that solves anything, bastard.” Sanji mutters, rolling up his sleeves as he makes his way to another sink, joining in attacking the large pile of dirty dishes looming over them. 
“Sorry for scaring you like that. I really have no idea why that happens, even the doctors on our ship can’t figure it out.” The man apologizes again.
He runs his hand under the water to rinse off the suds of soap and briefly shakes it before thrusting it towards Sanji with a newfound determined grin. “I’m Ace.”
Sanji looks at his outstretched hand and sighs, pulling his out of the water and shaking it. “Sanji.”
“How long have you been a cook here?”
“As long as I can remember.” He responds. “I basically grew up here.”
“With these guys? No wonder you’re so tough.” Ace chuckles. Sanji smiles and shakes his head.
“They’re all temperamental bastards. Especially the old man.”
“It’s nice to say you grew up around good people.” Ace says wistfully, scrubbing away at a plate with stubborn flakes of whatever.
“Even if I imagine the old guy was as tough on you as he was on me.” Ace chuckles again, shaking his head and sighing before rubbing a hand on his sore cheek, where a new bruise was forming. “You think his leg would break with how hard he kicked me back there.”
Sanji’s mind lightens with memories of Zeff as a child, and his smile returns. “Yeah, he’s the worst one of ‘em all. Still can’t imagine how I would have turned out without him, though.”
“It’s the same way with my little brother.” Ace says, and a large smile grows on his face. “God, he was the most annoying little kid you could ever imagine. But there’s no doubt he’s the greatest thing that happened to me.”
“Is he a pirate as well? Is he on your ship?”
Ace shakes his head. “No, he’s just about done training to set off on his own. But he’s gonna shake the world.”
“Jeez, that crazy, huh?”
“I hope he finds his way here, he’d love the food.”
“If I ever meet him, I’ll make sure he gets fed well.”
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iicarused · 7 months
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More on that whole Alastor having a spouse thing (spoilers for ep5).
A dynamic I've had rotating in my mind is of Alastor having a partner who died and went to hell with him. They represent the stereotypical couple from their time and all around are just happy, despite being in hell. Before they died Al's darling helped him cover up his crimes. Being his alibi, lying to people and cleaning up any messes he might have accidentally left behind. Even on occasions helping him cook or even back using the meat he hunted for. And when they both eventually kicked the bucket they held those values as they did when they were alive.
From an onlookers perspective they come off as a couple who's madly in love with one another, still holding that adoration towards each other through the decades they've been together. They dance together, they hold hands, they kiss… But it's not love. Ok, let me rephrase that for you. They gouge out other people's eyes out of jealousy, they pick their next victims together, they have eachothers back through thick and thin. It's not love, it's deeper.
The thing about those two is that no one can really understand them, as cheesy as that sounds. It gives them a sense of solidarity, that there is no one else for them because there is no one else like them. They are the only ones they would consider… Equals. Heh, one of the reasons why they're so intertwined with each other is because they're both just so terrible. His darling spouse just seems more negotiable, but their passiveness is a ruse. Coming of as motherly/fatherly (whatever the gender neutral term is) easily reeling in any weak minded sinners. Their diabolical antis have Alastor weak. HAH, the demon/angel, whoever has Alastor on contract wishes they had this amount of power over him because he, is, whipped.
Oh, and we can't forget the hotel's residents finding out about Al's little darling doe. Either it was Alastor who mentioned them or Mimzy did through her retelling of how Al rose to power. Or they already meet them (Husker, Niffty), but nevertheless the crew has only heard good things about you. Much to their surprise considering how self centered the dear demon is, while Vaggie is weirded out by this her girlfriend is happy and wishes to meet them someday/night. And when they do meat? They weren't very surprised, they kinda already had an image of who they were due to Alastor's ramblings.
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Holding you close he kisses your neck where the burn marks are most visible. You can feel his everlasting smile tugging into a frown against your skin, the mere thought of you taking your own life still makes him sick. How afraid you must have been without him. You lean back cupping his cheek with your hand looking deep into his sorrowful eyes. An unfamiliar look for the usually dapper man, it didn't suit him.
“There's no need to get so worked up over old scars dear, I don't, so why should you? Besides, I'm here now aren't i?”
At your words the radio demon saged and let out a content sigh, his lovely smile returning.
“Your right” he said, kissing the inside of your palm before returning back to snuggling with his lover.
I can't imagine the reader not having a twang to their voice, their own vibe, not radio per say but something like from this youtube clip. It probably wouldn't make sense for them to sound like that but I couldn't get it out of my head.
If there's one thing I love , it's when others explore the relationship between the two individuals before they went six feet down under. And one of those versions that i quite enjoy is Deer Dolly by ohproserpine check em out. And also, Where do I begin? on ao3 (be warned, for there is implication of SA in it, nothing too graphic but still, protective Alastro being protective, love it).
I think the appeal of Alastor was how different he was (except for in the creepy ass twink department, we've got plenty of those). Mainly in the way he was presented. “a show made independently, and the voice actors are making streams talking in their characters voices? Ö”. And everyone just ran with what they had, we were given just enough to fall for the colorful cast, enough to make fan content before the pilot was out. Like the dad jokes, fan animations, Alastor saying darling~ and the many accounts of them flustering Ashley, among other things :) (all the letters are links, haven't seen some of these in years dafuq). I'm surprised that not many people use what they said in the streams in their writings, I'd wish to see more of that. There's some real gold in there to be utilized.
But anyways, back to the topic at hand. There's always been one song I've associated Alastor with, since I was like 15 to16 years old, and it's something has to happen. Can't help but imagine a chase sequence whenever I listen to it, and I recently found some more inspiration in the form of this! and that.
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He could smell the fear radiating from his prey, they ran with haste, trying to put distance between them and their pursuer. The demon chuckled to himself at their persistence. Such a lively prey they were, truly, he couldn't wait to hold them close to his chest, to trap them in the grip of his teeth, tearing tissue and bones in his jaws. Oh He loves them, he hunts them.
Man, I remember back in the day there were so many stories revolving around Alastor appearing in the living world to torment his darling, or to make a meaningful connection with them. But I've never seen one where his darling is his accomplice, helping him spread his “curse” onto unsuspecting victims. I got this idea from this piece of artwork by lanveril.
i remember the days of that too! it was such a great time of alastor and obsession fics yknow, but also small??? since it was just the pilot and we had a lot to toy around with. but you are so right about him and his s/o being a cheesy couple.
the sweetest couple on the block who seem very normal and overall a prime example of love. “darling, i have the meat!” and you would beckon him in the kitchen with a sweet smile so you could prepare it.
i think he would be a cliche husband, but also one who enjoys a little rough housing form time to time.
i had to gatekeep this ask for awhile mb LMFAOO i loved it so much😭
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emmg · 6 days
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I want Blackwall, against all logic, fate, and the general laws of sanity, to become Solas's unexpected bestie in Veilguard—like some twisted, medieval version of a buddy-cop drama where one’s a guilt-ridden ex-wannabe-warden and the other’s an elven god with a messiah complex. Because lying liars gotta stick together.
Blackwall: “Now, what was he supposed to do? Just waltz into the Inquisition camp and be like, ‘Hey guys, fun fact: I’m an elven god, also sorry about that whole ‘end of the world’ plan in the works.’ Yeah, sure, that’d go over well.”
Solas: nodding sagely “Exactly.”
Blackwall: “I mean, think about it—he’s got centuries of baggage. That’s a lot to unpack. It’s not like he could have just put it in his Tinder bio. ‘Likes long walks in the Fade, dismantling the Veil, and reclaiming lost elven glory.’ No one’s swiping right on that.”
Solas: frowning thoughtfully “It’s been a lonely existence.”
Blackwall: “See? Exactly. He’s lonely. Who hasn’t thought about ripping apart reality when they’re having a bad day? People are so quick to judge, but they don’t know the context.”
Solas: tragic sigh “The weight of leadership is often misunderstood.”
Blackwall: “Right? It’s like me with the Grey Wardens—except, y’know, with fewer existential threats to the universe and slightly less divine ego. But still, I get it. You don’t just walk up and say, ‘Hey, I might have kinda sorta lied about everything. Also, I’m basically the reason your world sucks now. My bad.’ That’s social suicide. I mean, you’d never get invited to another tavern crawl. Ever.”
Solas: nodding gravely “Precisely. That, and... I am not one to ‘buy rounds.’”
Blackwall: “See, that’s the real issue here. It’s not that Solas wanted to tear down the Veil—no, no. It’s that the man can’t even be bothered to cover a single round at the bar. That’s the true crime. And, well, I guess he has no money.”
Solas: solemnly “I have no need for such trivialities.”
Blackwall: “Of course not, because you’re a god, right? But try explaining that to your drinking buddies. ‘Oh no, I’m too divine to pay for ale,’ like that’s going to fly. Honestly, Solas, this whole end-of-the-world thing? Just bad PR. You should’ve led with the ‘I’m mysterious, brooding, and burdened with ancient knowledge’ angle. Chicks dig that.”
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milesmoralesdotcom · 7 months
Text
SHE FELL FIRST, HE FELL HARDER — MILES MORALES (1610) — PART I
miles morales x fem!reader
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(your pov - @ school)
i walked into my first day of sophomore year, shoving my backpack into my locker because my school decided we shouldn’t be able to carry backpacks in the hall.
(btw in this story miles goes to public school)
although i was very afraid of sophomore year, i was excited for a fresh start, maybe i can try to get back on my feet again. (i’m cooked)
my first hour was cooking class, across the fucking building from my damn locker.
i grabbed my cromebook, folders, and a weird planner thing that was mandatory for my core classes and way too expensive.
i passed popular boys, making my feet quicken, and then i accidentally bumped into this guy, i only saw his shoes, they were red and white jordan’s , they were really cute, but i was in a hurry.
i mumbled a sorry and kept walking, he didn’t even turn around though.
i passed the seniors, which also made me wanna puke.
then i finally found the cooking class, right next to the exit.
i walked in, after the bell, since, again, it was across the FUCKING SCHOOL.
anyway.
my eyes scanned for a seat, the only one being in the very back. yay.
i was pretty quiet, except for around my friends, but i didn’t have any friends in this class.
there was a cute boy, but he had a girlfriend and was very annoying.
there were a few other people i know, most of them were annoying though.
and some people i didn’t know, but none of them were very special.
other than that the teacher was just talking about a slideshow that was mandatory for the school to show.
the classroom had three kitchens in it, they looked kinda old, but they were cute.
and before i knew it four classes had passed and it was lunch time!!
i sat down with my normal lunch friend group, about six people, but the girl i knew best at the table was abby, friends since sixth grade.
they were all laughing while i was zoning out, scanning the lunch room for familiar and unfamiliar faces.
my eyes locked on a very, very handsome boy.
he had chocolate brown skin, big brown eyes, an afro-fade, and he was pretty tall.
and god he was handsome of my god.
i hope i have classes with him, i wonder what classes he takes.
probably weightlifting with those arms
OK BUD.
anyway..
he’s so fucking gorgeous oh my god.
there’s no way he would like me, but..oh god i hope he does
i’m not ugly, right??
no, but not pretty enough for him.
he’s so pretty, god i want him so bad
he was talking with his friend, i knew his friend, he was in my calculus class, i fucking hate that class, but that’s just because i hate math.
he was laughing, he looks so cute while he’s laughing, i wish i was making him laugh.
“throw your trash away, one minute left!!” the lunch monitor yelled, snapping me out of my thoughts.
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i walked into my last hour, AP studio art, my only AP class.
i looked around, only a few people in here, i hope that one boy is in here, this is my last chance to have a class with him.
“y/n!!” a familiar voice behind her called out, sage, another sixth grade friend.
“hey sage!” she smiled and hugged him.
“how have you been??” he sits down, next to his other friend Gianna, who i sat in front of, we were also friends.
“good, i think i have a crush.” i hid my face.
“already? what’s his name? or she.” he looked at me with a shocked face.
“uhh..about that..” my eyes locked behind gianna, the boy from lunch!! holy shit!!!
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AUTHORS NOTE
hiii! idk if this is good or not but hopefully it is idk 🧏‍♀️
this is a series btw obviously erm
oh and FREE PALESTINE
anyway bye bye
taglist
@allybuginarug
(if u wanna be added js ask)
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morerandombullshit · 6 months
Text
Deserve (Vergil x f!Reader)
Rating: 18+ (MDNI but not like that stopped you guys anyway)
Pairing: Vergil x f!Reader
Summary: You finally left your abusive ex for good over him cheating on you, but it's still weighing on you. Vergil finds out and decides to comfort you in the only way he really knows how to comfort another person.
CW: Cheating, implied abuse, slightly angsty, bit of hurt/comfort, comfort sex (kinda??), unprotected sex (DO NOT TRY AT HOME) oral (f!rieceiving), face-sitting, consent, begging (only if you squint), creampies, slight dom/sub dynamics (or it's not slight idrk), dom Vergil/sub Reader, praise, degradation (just a little sprinkling only if you squint i promise), slight edging (ok maybe not so slight aha), clothes-ripping, semi-monster sex, aftercare pet names used: darling, sweetheart, pretty girl, perfect girl, good girl, my love, mine
Word count: 4573 (i totally didn't get too into this fic, no i didn't)
Note: I don't even fucking know how I came up with this idea (guess I was scrolling through too much DMC Boys x Reader smut and shit but oh well I have zero regrets), but in my notebook it's literally 18 and a quarter pages long and I was up until 2am finishing it off because I couldn't sleep and then I tried to show my best friend my writing at some point but he couldn't read my handwriting and shit (2am writing ftw, I guess)—
Anyways, enjoy this...explosion of smut, because I'm kinda on a little bit of a fluff writing kick/writer's block thing rn and idk when I'm gonna write more soooooo
Also Cameron Grey's I Want It All is basically the vibe for this oneshot, I recommend listening to it on repeat as you read— 
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Sitting on the couch at Devil May Cry, you force yourself to focus on the magazine print in front of you. It's after hours and everyone's gone home—except for you and Dante's twin, Vergil. 
Vergil's cold and intimidating presence makes you feel like a storm is approaching every time he's around. But that body, though...shit. Strong jawline, short and slicked back silvery-white hair, ice blue eyes, cherry lips, toned body, ass like it was sculpted by a fucking ethereal being...Something lights like fire low in the pit of your stomach, and you shift a bit on the couch, still trying to focus on the magazine. Footsteps sound from across the room, and as the familiar scent of storms, fresh-cut grass and sage permeates your senses, that warmth between your thighs transmutes to a light throbbing.
Vergil steps into the room and you drop your eyes to the magazine, deciding it better to ignore that feeling right now. It's always happened whenever he's around—even when you were dating your abusive ex, but you push that thought away and continue hyperfocusing on the page in front of you. You toss your feet up onto an arm of the couch, leaning your head and putting the magazine at a tilted angle in the air.
"Y/N."
You sit up a bit, dropping the magazine. Vergil's always had a cold and imperious vibe around everyone, so you have to admit you're surprised he bothers to know your name. "Shit, didn't notice you." you reply, lying and hoping he doesn't know you are. "What is it?"
He walks a bit closer to you, grabbing a chair—his usual plastic one (he has threatened murder if someone else so much breathes on it before, now that you think about it)—and sitting in it, setting the Yamato against one of its armrests and letting it lean against the white plastic. "What're you doing here so late? I'd have thought you'd be at home right now."
At the mention of home, your stomach churns with nausea—the week before, you'd moved your stuff out of the apartment you had shared with your ex, and you're still trying to find a new place to live. Dante—after you begrudgingly told him why you were looking for a new place to live—said you could stay in Devil May Cry for as long as you need. 
Vergil doesn't know, though. But something in you wants to tell him, so you take a breath in and say, "I'm...between homes right now. Dante said I could stay here for as long as I need, and it's a better option than the streets."
"Would you mind if I asked why you're between homes at the moment?" he asks you, and you hear his voice sound less...cold for a moment. "Uh...my abusive ex cheated and I was sharing an apartment with him. Couldn't stand to live there after all the shit he pulled."
Your eyes have been trained to your boots the whole time but you look up, but you look up at Vergil and see the ice blue eyes blazing—a surefire sign he might go Devil Trigger. And for some reason, that makes the throbbing between your thighs more apparent, and harder to ignore. You shift your weight on the couch, trying to do it subtly enough that he doesn't notice—but knowing how shitty your luck is, he does. Vergil raises an eyebrow at you, and you regret all your fucking life decisions. "Something wrong?" he asks.
Oh, nothing. Just the fact that you're somehow turning me the fuck on, you think to yourself before clearing your throat and replying with, "No."
"You're always clearing your throat before you speak a lie." he says, and your brow furrows. His voice imperceptibly softens at the next thing he says. "It's...cute, in a way."
You cough a bit, startled by his sudden statement. "What?"
"It is." Vergil leans forward in his chair, a little closer to the couch you're sitting on. "But I have to wonder...what is wrong?"
You shrug, resisting the urge to clear your throat again. "Wanted to shift my position on the couch—it was getting uncomfortable sitting in one position for that long."
"Hm." he replies, his ice blue eyes boring into yours, making that already noticeable throb between your thighs even more unbearable to hide. A taut tension blankets over the two of you, and your tongue swipes out to lick your lips. Vergil's eyes drop to your lips instantly, and that taut tension becomes even more taut, if that's possible.
You drop your gaze to the ground, but your eyes snag on a growing bulge tightening the black leather of his pants, which causes your mouth to go bone dry, causing you to lick your lips again. As quickly as you had noticed his cock growing harder through his pants, you drop your gaze to its intended destination—the floor—and try to forget you ever saw it. 
That taut tension between you and Vergil continues, neither of you talking. His gaze locked on your lips, yours locked on the ground—though seeing how his cock had strained against his pants is at the forefront of your mind, and that throbbing between your thighs becomes mildly painful. It's an effort not to wince, an effort to not press your hands so tightly together you might break a few bones. 
"Y/N." Vergil says, his voice a little lower and rougher than before, his breath hitting your ear. When the hell did he move?,  you wonder to yourself before realizing, Oh, wait. He's half-demon. 
"Yeah." you mutter as a form of response, since your mind's more focused on how close he is to you right now—the distance between your bodies only inches apart, which makes that throbbing between your thighs even worse. "Tell me what's wrong," he murmurs, his breath still hitting your ear as he uses one hand to tilt your chin up towards his face. "And tell me how to make it better."
Other than the fact that you're so turned on you almost can't see straight, something you'd never tell him even if your life depended on it, there's an...emptiness. Having dated your abusive ex for so long before you ended it because you'd found him with his face between the thighs of some girl you didn't recognize has left a bigger toll on you for the past week, more than you care to admit. "I was living with my abusive ex. A week ago, I caught him eating some other girl out, and I decided I wasn't taking the abuse anymore, so..."
Vergil's eyes flash slightly, and for a moment, you think he's going to go Devil Trigger, but he doesn't—only that kernel of demonic power lies in his eyes, a show of his rage. "I will fucking hunt him down and end him. Slowly," he says, voice taking on a slight and low snarling quality in his anger. And you don't know if you've ever heard him curse before, but the throbbing between your thighs intensifies when you hear it. "Did he hurt you?"
It takes you a moment to respond to that, unsure of how to do it for fear of what he's going to do, but you reply with, "Yes."
"He never fucking deserved you." he says matter of factly, his voice still taking on that slight, low snarling quality. "You're better off without him."
"I know." you sigh. "But abusers tend to manipulate their victims. And I hate how I agreed to move in with him a month into our relationship. Should've realized it was of him—"
Your words get cut off when Vergil straight up puts his mouth on yours. The kiss isn't exactly gentle, but there's a comforting quality to it behind all the pure want he's kissing you with. It takes you a second to kiss back, but once you do, you're lost in it. God, the feeling of Vergil's mouth pressing against your has been chasing your dreams for so long now, maybe even you first met him or your first day at Devil May Cry—your mind and body keep wanting more more more as that throbbing between your thighs starts to ache, causing you to let out an unbidden whine into his mouth. 
He pulls away again, and you almost whine again, hating the loss of contact as you resist the urge to rub your thighs together. His breath and yours are mingling, both of you panting slightly. "You have no fucking idea how I've wanted to do that." Vergil murmurs, voice rougher than usual. "No fucking idea of the things I want to do to you."
A breathless sound is your only reply, and the hand that isn't gripping your chin falls to your hip, and your back arches slightly as he kneads your skin through your shirt, "Let me touch you," he mumbles, burying his face into your neck and brushing his nose against your skin. "Just—let me touch you. Please." 
You're silent for a moment, and Vergil pulls back a tiny bit, making you realize he's letting you decide—letting you decide whether you want to go further or stop and forget this ever happened. He'll keep going only with a confirmation that you want this, and only if it's a yes you're sure about—he doesn't want you to be pressured. You swallow, and you see his eyes flick to the hollow of your throat, tracking the movement. "Okay." you say, pressing a hand to his chest, right above his heart. 
No sooner than the word leaves you, Vergil has his mouth right on the side of your neck, his hand dropping from your chin and going to your other hip—both hands kneading through your shirt now. You tilt your head back, a silent plea for him to keep going. A sound emerges from low in his throat—some kind of growl?—and he skims his mouth along your skin to the hollow of your throat, causing a chill of pleasure to go down your spine.
Vergil's mouth presses against the hollow of your throat, his hands still kneading your hips through your shirt, and your back arches into him, his hips settling between your thighs once you do—causing an unbidden whimper to leave your mouth. The feel of his cock, even with the barriers of his pants and yours, makes you see fucking stars. His tongue laves along the hollow of your throat, and you whimper louder this time, your senses narrowed to his tongue moving over your skin. Your head falls back even more, baring pretty much all your neck to him. 
"You taste so much better than I ever fucking dreamed you would." Vergil murmurs onto your skin, pulling on it with his teeth. You moan now, your hips uncontrollably grinding against his—eliciting a soft groan from him, and that sound only adds to the throbbing between your thighs and the desire sparking in your blood. He dips his head a bit, nibbling on more skin of your neck, and every singular throb between your thighs feels like fucking torture. Your hands are aching to touch him, aching to feel his bare skin, his mouth, his fingers, his cock...
You tentatively put your hands on Vergil's shoulders, kind of digging your nails in when he drags his teeth on your skin. His hands hook into the bottom hem of your shirt, and your breath hitches. "Can I take this off?" he murmurs against your neck, and you nod. But his hands don't move, leaving you to rub your thighs together in a need for friction and some impatience. "I need to hear you say it, darling. I need you to use your words, okay?"
You take a fractured breath in, forming  some words as you fight through the lust fogging your mind right now. "Fuck yes. Please, Vergil. Please." you mumble, so wet you might soak through your pants altogether. "Thank fuck..." he murmurs, moving one hand up to the neckline of your shirt before tugging and ripping the cotton and polyester fabric clean down the middle.
You gasp at the cool air hitting your upper half—now, your bra's the only barrier. Vergil pulls away from your neck, his eyes glazing over as he looks at your bare skin. "So fucking beautiful..." he says as his hands land back onto your hips, kneading your skin. You whine, so turned on it's hard to think of anything else. He dips his head down, teeth grazing one of the edges of your bra. 
Your hands go from digging your nails into his shoulders to tangling in his short and slicked back silvery-white hair—it's so fucking soft, and it's thicker than it looks. A low growl rumbles from deep in his throat, and his hands continue to knead into your hips, but hands feel more like claws now. "Please tell me I can keep going." His teeth still graze the edge of your bra. 
"Don't—don't stop." 
Vergil's head moves a bit to the middle of your bra, and you could've sworn his canines are now fangs as he rips your bra in two with just his teeth. Your breath stutters as your upper half is fully exposed now, the throbbing between your thighs becoming so painful that you whimper a bit. His hands leave your hips and rise to cup your now bare breasts, your breath almost stopping altogether when you see the reverence in his eyes and his body language. You feel like a fucking goddess under his scrutiny, and when his hands creep up a bit, those almost-claws drawing circles on your skin, making you into the touch as lightning bolts of pleasure spread from where he's touching you.
Your hips rolls of their own accord again, a fractured moan slipping from your mouth as you feel his cock growing harder against you. You can't think, can't form words, because of the overwhelming pressure going through you right now. Vergil groans as you do that, his head dipping and his tongue teasingly tracing one of your nipples. And fuck, that feeling...You cry out this time, breath so shallow you off-handedly wonder how the fuck you're getting oxygen. 
One of his hands goes from cupping your breast to hooking into the hem of your pants, but you don't focus on that as he flicks his tongue over your nipple again, taking it into his mouth, teeth grazing the slightest bit—
You cry out again, this time mixed in with a moan, and your hips buck into him, whimpering at the way he feels against you, even if there is the barrier of clothes. "That's it, pretty girl." Vergil murmurs against your breast. "It's me who makes you feel like this." 
A moan is your only reply. He moves a bit, straddling you slightly, every thought eddying from your mind as he rolls his hips against yours, but unlike when you had done it, it's purposeful. 
He's teasing.
Vergil raises his head to whisper into your ear, his lips grazing the shell of it and triggering a needy shudder that wracks your body. "If I were to rip these pants off of you right now, how wet would I find you, sweetheart?"
Fucking soaking. 
You can barely decipher his words through your lust-fogged haze, and every part  of you is screaming, more, more, more, but you manage to choke out, "Play later."
Your voice is breathless, the need in it so abundantly clear, but you're too lost in the pleasure to notice or even care. Vergil dips his head and kisses the skin beneath your ear, causing another needy shudder. A promise and an unleashing. "I will, perfect girl. I will. But we have a couple other things to take care of, do we not?"
Right. He still has all his clothes on. Slipping your hands from his hair, you put them on either side of his dark gray trench coat with bright turquoise coloring. "Can I take this off?" you ask, surprised at how you can function right now. A nod from Vergil. "Please."
You make quick work of his coat, fabric sighing as it drops to the floor, revealing arms that you never were so fucking toned. Amazed, you run your hands down his arms, the smooth skin and taut muscle feeling so good to touch. You hear his breath hitch and you smirk to yourself. "Y/N." he murmurs, and you know what he means—stop gawking and get to the point before he spontaneously combusts. Taking a breath in, you reply with a quiet "Okay" before unzipping the high neck of his armored black and dark slate gray tank top, revealing his bare chest to you. Just as his coat had, it falls to the floor behind him, the metal making a faint clinking sound. 
But you're too focused on greedily inventorying the fucking masterpiece that is Vergil's chest. Abs that look like they've been hewn from stone in a mountain's cliff face, pecs that aren't too big but are still hot as hell...your gaze snags on a thin dusting of white hair that disappears beneath his pants and a very defined V-line that flows beneath his pants like his happy trail does.
The only thing that leaves your mouth is a breathless "Fuck". You reach for the top of his pants, but his hand lightly catches your wrist—those almost-claws tickling your skin. "I want to taste you first." he says, his voice that low, lush growl that makes that throbbing between your thighs even more unbearable. "I want to feel you come on my fingers and tongue."
You swallow as Vergil's other hand—the one hooked into the waistband of your pants—moves down, utilizing those almost-claws and shredding the fabric straight down the middle, like he did with your shirt. His hand lightly brushes the fabric of your panties now, nearly making your heart stop. 
"Turn around and spread your legs," he says quietly, his voice still having that growly quality—but also pure dominance. "And hold onto the back of the couch. You'll need it."
Sparks of more arousal rise in your blood as you hasten to do what Vergil tells you, and a satisfied hum from behind you has you knowing you did it right. "Good girl." he says, his hand hooking into the edge of your panties. Your breathing stutters at the praise, and you're sure he smirked at that reaction from you, even if you can't see his face. He doesn't move for a moment before asking, "Do you still want this? Because I don't think I'll be able to stop after—though I'll try my damndest to."
You ponder on it for a moment, the throbbing between your thighs growing as you do, before you reply with a simple, "Yes."
A low growl rumbles in Vergil's throat before you pulls on your panties hard enough to rip them off your frame, and your breath sharpens for a moment. "So fucking beautiful..." he murmurs, nudging your legs just a bit wider with his knee before sliding a finger inside your dripping pussy. Your hands tighten on the back of the couch, your knuckles going white as you bite on your tongue to keep from screaming in pleasure. 
Vergil adds a second finger, and your pussy walls clench around him, spasming at the pleasure of being filled as he picks up a pace, starting a sort of rhythm—pumping his fingers in and out, said fingers being knuckle-deep in you. You moan, hips rocking against his hand—
"That's it." he murmurs, his voice still having that low and growly tone to it. "Ride my hand, pretty girl."
And you do, your soft moans permeating the silence broken only by the squelching of his fingers pumping in and out. After an indeterminable amount of time, Vergil's fingers slip out of you, making an obscene sound between squelching and popping—but also eliciting a whine from you. You were so close, and he had to go and do that.
But that feeling of intense, world-shattering pleasure returns when he laps at you, tongue giving you short, teasing licks all the way up to your swollen clit. And when his mouth finds that sweet, sensitive bud between your legs, and sucks on it, your hands are gripping the back of the couch so hard that you might break a couple bones. You let out an involuntary scream, and Vergil's hand gently clamps over your mouth to muffle it. 
Then his fingers go back to where they were before, his tongue swirling in a figure eight as he sucks on your overly sensitive clit, and you're so, so fucking close—
But Vergil takes your clit out of his mouth for a moment, making you squirm. "I want you to do something for me," he says, voice hoarse, still having that dominating quality to it. "Sit on my face, darling." 
"W—What?" you stutter. While you'd be glad to do what he tells you, you've never...done what he's asking you to do. The hand Vergil had gently clamped over your mouth to muffle your scream drops to your jaw as he says, "Sit on my face, perfect girl. You can't do anything wrong."
You swallow, but his reassurance has you doing as he tells you to do, feeling a little out of your comfort zone, but doing it nonetheless. When Vergil taks your clit back into his mouth and his fingers fill you again, your hands ache and you moan your loudest so far—this position hits far deeper spots than the previous one did, even if it had hit pretty deep. 
A few more passes of his tongue and pumping of his fingers has your back arching, grinding against his face as you come, his name on your lips. Vergil laps up every last drop of your orgasm before releasing your clit with a groan and saying, "Your taste is going to drive me fucking insane." 
Too winded to even speak, your hands bracing the back of the couch are your only support. Vergil's hands lift your hips slightly—a way of supporting you, you realize—and he presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh before murmuring against your skin, "You did so fucking good, sweetheart."
Your breath skips at the praise, and when your post-orgasmic bliss subsides, you mumble an incoherent reply. You hear a hum of contemplation from him and his hands knead your hips as he silently thinks something over. "Turn around and spread your legs again for me." he says. You obey almost instantly—which should be embarrassing, but you're too turned on to care—and you hear a snarl of approval behind you. Buttons being unbuttoned and zipper being undone sounds from behind you, followed by the whisper of leather dropping and boots clacking onto the floor. 
You're instantly wet and throbbing again after thinking about what's going to happen, your juices slicking down your thighs. You feel Vergil's hand grip your ass and squeeze it slightly as he asks, "Ready?"
A nearly incoherent "Please" slips from your mouth, and once it does, his cock slides inside you, all the way to the base. He's bigger—and wider—than you thought he'd be, and he stills, giving you a moment to adjust to him. You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.
Now, this isn't your first time having sex, but you haven't done it for a while, and this is Vergil we're talking about here, for fuck's sake. You feel his lips graze along your spine as he murmurs, "You're so fucking tight." 
After that comment, he pulls out near to the tip and slides back into the base, which is really easy considering how soaked you are, making a moan leave your mouth. "Mine," he grunts, sounding like he's close to DTing. "My beautiful whore, taking my cock so well."
The praise mixed with degradation should sting, but instead it stokes the flames of your need, and you moan again. "You like this, pretty girl?" Vergil asks as he kisses your spine again, thrusting in and out. "You like when I pound into your sweet little cunt with my cock?"
Another moan, louder this time, is your only reply—more, more, more, until he pumps you full of his cum—
For a few blissful moments, there's only him and his rough thrusts before he stops. Your brow furrows a bit. "Why'd you stop?"
Vergil doesn't say anything, he just grabs your hips and positions the both of you so that he's on his back and you're straddling him, his cock inches away from your entrance. You can see his face now, and has a bit of a self-confident smirk on his mouth. Even if you don't have sex much, you can tell what that means. You sink onto his cock—it's deeper this time, and your moan occurs at the same time as his groan. 
His hands knead into your hips as you brace your hands on his muscled chest, moving up and down in a rough rhythm, moaning whenever his cock deeply hits in a sweet spot. You keep going, lost in the pleasure, riding Vergil into oblivion until he lifts his hips and his cock hits a spot that makes you come and sees stars at the same time—you let out a sound between a moan and a scream at the sensation. His orgasm comes right up on the heels of yours, and he lets out a long, low groan as he cums deep inside you, and your inner walls clench, milking it out.
When he pulls out, there's a small whine from you, but you can feel his cum dripping from your pussy, along with the juices from your own orgasm. You sit there on top of him, still dazed from post-orgasmic bliss, taking in air. You off-handedly wonder where your clothes are before remembering Vergil quite literally ripping them off of you earlier. 
He seems to have seen something in your face, because he raises his head and kisses the tip of your nose. "You okay?" he asks you, and his checking in brings a small smile to your face. "Yeah...just wondering what I'm gonna do since you ripped all my clothes right off."
Vergil winces a bit. "Sorry, I just...I wanted you so bad that I wasn't thinking straight. I still want you."
"I know," you murmur drowsily. "I do too."
You get off him and let him put his clothes back on, for some reason expecting him to leave you here naked since he'd gotten what he wanted from you. Fabric is draped around your shoulders, and you see Vergil kneel in front of you, fully dressed now, doing seemingly hidden buttons to protect your dignity. He further surprises you by picking you up bridal style as if you weigh nothing. He then presses his mouth to yours—an offer you immediately accept by kissing back—before he pulls away just enough for his mouth to graze yours as he talks. "I'd do anything for you. Kill, steal, lie, cheat...you name it, I'll do it, because you deserve the fucking world, my love."
You smile and reply with, "Same goes for you."
Vergil laughs softly and kisses you again before grabbing the Yamato—mostly forgotten in your guys' frenzy—and holds it one hand as he bridal carries you to his room.
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the-au-collector · 8 months
Text
Epic: The Musical and Linked Universe
So I’m sure someone else noticed this already but Epic: The Musical gives off Linked Universe vibes. So I’m honor of the Circe Saga releasing next week, I thought I’d put in my 2 cents about what songs I associate with each Link (+some non-canon LU Links). There’s a bit of another LU-Links-reunite AU building up in my head but there’s no real direction yet so have this brain vomit instead:
- The Horse and The Infant - Warriors. So this goes into my headcanon that Warriors is the hero of 10,000 years ago. No I have no foundation for that theory. It just IS. Anyways he’s fighting the Yiga with an army of Gerudo and Hylians. He has to kill the Yiga leader’s son, who’s the new incarnation of Ganondorf. The kid is an infant. I don’t think I need to explain more but yeah.
- Just A Man - Hyrule. This song is the ultimate Hyrule song for me. It explains his character in my Relinked AU too. It’s just… it’s Hyrule’s song. As for the story based off of Epic: The Musical itself, I think he’s running from some sort of war in his Hyrule (either a civil war or a war with Calatia). The details aren’t that clear yet, other than he kills someone and feels bad about it.
- Full Speed Ahead - Wind. Need I say more?
- Warrior of the Mind - our first non-canon Link: First! I Imagine First and Hylia kicking ass together during this song
- Polyphemus - Okay, we’re getting into true AU territory with this one, but this is Twilight’s song. He’s trying to piece together the Mirror of Twilight again and accidentally angers a Hinox or other large monster. With him is Dusk, Rusl (or maybe Colin), and Dusk is stabbed at the end. That’s all I’ve got for this one.
- Survive - Time. And this one has a Story. Ganondorf attacks Time’s castle town with an army of Gerudo and monsters. Time and the Sages fight him off but at the last second he breaks free and slaughters everyone, including Time. However, just as the song ends (the point where Polyphemus falls asleep), Zelda rewinds time and sacrifices herself to seal Ganondorf into the Mirror of Twilight. This is the moment the Downfall Timeline is created too.
- Remember Me - Our second non-canon Link, Shadow! He, Four, Dot, and others are fighting this monster. The Four Sword shatters, Shadow takes charge but in the end wants to do the noble thing. Oh and he gives his name as “Link” and not Shadow (or Shade, as Four’s beginning to call him in my headcanon)
- My Goodbye - Legend and Fable have a falling out. Legend’s sick of feeling used because he’s the hero, so he decides he’s had enough.
- Storm - Our third non-canon Link, Age! Basically a Tears of the Kingdom scenario except Age and his Zelda (Fauna) never went down below the castle. He never loses his arm and Fauna never goes to the past, but they have to evacuate Hyrule to the sky with the help of the Light Dragon who clears the way.
- Luck Runs Out - Sky and Groose. Idk what went down in Sky’s Hyrule but they’re having a disagreement about how Sky’s handling it.
- Keep Your Friends Close - Our last non-canon Link, Spirit! This one also has some story behind it to make the song fit. Idk why, but he and his Zelda (Phantom) have gone to speak to their Wind God, Zephos (the same from Wind Waker) who gives them a challenge. They fail and Spirit gets separated from the group. I imagine it might have something to do with Ganondorf who’s still stuck under the receding Great Sea.
- Ruthlessness - This absolute bop goes to Four. It’s also a follow-up to Remember Me, so that means the monster Shadow refused to kill is Special. Related in some way to Fierce Deity special. So the story here is after the encounter with the monster, Four, Shadow, and others (I’m debating giving Vaati a redemption arc?) decide to try to get help from the god Fierce Deity. Except Deity is pissed because he thinks Four is a weakling when it was actually Shadow who took the blame for what happened to the monster. Fierce slaughters all of Four and Shadow’s men, Four seals himself into the Four Sword to distract/hurt Fierce, and Shadow escapes but feels really guilty.
That’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll add the Circe Saga when it comes out.
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vera-deville · 3 months
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Going through a pretty horrid breakup atm, let's just say the guy I was with for six weeks left me then got with another immediately a week after. With me finding out through an outside source as he blocked me everywhere. So I was wondering if uhh, I could get sum fluff with Malleus and GN reader. Just need smth w one of my favs to add to my 'Gettin over this bitch' Playlist LMAO. Just something light-hearted and fun after gettin'over some kinda hardship. Like smth happened that has the reader in an upset mood and Mal gives some ✨sage advice✨ in his own way (we know how he is) or sum shi. Preferably romantic but platonic works too
Gahhh, not sure I did this right, I'm requesting this whilst half asleep lmao.
-🐅
The Sagely Advice of a Dragon Fae
05/31/2024 - 07/09/2024
Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Reader (you can think of the interactions as romantic or platonic) Word Count: 1,045 Warnings: Reader's just having a bad day, lowkey a crack fic- Gender: Gender Neutral Tags: @rose-the-witch1, @viviennevermillion (let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist, and which characters you'd like to be added for)! Notes: I'm really sorry to hear about what you're going through 🐅 anon! I wrote this in such a way that it could be read as platonic or romantic. I wasn't sure if you wanted the hardship in the story to be a breakup or not, but I ended up making it a break up. I also apologize so much for taking so long to complete your request! And don't worry, you requested perfectly!
In which you are dealing with a break up and a particular dragon fae has words of wisdom for you.
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Sometimes, you just wanted to hurl an asteroid at life.
Not that it would cause much damage (if at all any), but it's the thought that counts, right?
Brooding over your life seemed to be something you were doing more often now, and frankly speaking, it was getting on your nerves. Everything around you seemed to either contribute to your irritation or remind you of something - contributing to your irritation nonetheless.
Another overblot had passed over, not unlike a raging storm, and by this point, you were so used to them that you were simply biding your time for the next one. Crowley seemed more annoying than ever, what with his near constant spur of the moment vacations, and who else better than the magicless Prefect of Ramshackle to clean up after his messes? Oh and you got dumped. The best part of it? You only found out through Cater since you had been blocked by the guy you were with.
With everything just piling up on top of each other, you could feel yourself gradually losing your sanity and right about now, you could use one of Crowley's vacations for yourself.
Your friends were helpful, but it didn't change the humiliation you felt when they found out - and that too, before you. You knew they didn't think anything less of you. If anything, they were worried and constantly wary of your feelings, waiting as though you were a ticking time bomb. And yet, you couldn't help but continue to feel the humiliation. Except now, it was coupled with the pitying looks and actions of those around you.
And that's how you ended up at the rundown gardens of Ramshackle. Truly, the place lived up to its name. The marble benches had clearly seen better days, but in a way, there was a decrepit beauty to your dorm. Vines grew like curly hair, tangling and winding and unravelling a certain way.
You had been following up with Crowley regarding funds to renovate Ramshackle. Of course, he originally had told you to pay out of your pocket. And of course, you'd successfully presented (and won) your claim that Ramshackle is a Night Raven College dorm - meaning the money had to come out of his.
The actual renovation plans were still being...well, planned.
But in the quiet of your beloved Ramshackle, accompanied by no other than your thoughts, you could imagine the transformations the dorm could go through.
"Ahem."
So much for not being accompanied by anyone else but your thoughts.
You turn, a sinewy shadow stepping clear into your vision.
"Hello Tsunotarou."
"Hello Child of Man."
Malleus looked dapper as ever. Standing tall and proud, shoulders rolled back, hair framing his face ever so perfectly, you couldn't help but wonder if this fae ever had a bad day in his life. Surely he had his own fair share of woes?
"What are you doing here tonight? If you're free, you should reflect on things with me." He asks in that curious manner of his.
"It seems all I've been doing as of late is reflect Tsunotarou." You chide, knowing that Malleus knew nothing about your latest predicaments. "Allow me to ask you a question."
"A question for me? Alright, ask me anything."
"Why is life so unfair?"
Malleus expected this question. He had heard...whispers around the campus and it seemed that Lilia of the ailments that plagued the Ramshackle Prefect's mind (though of course he wouldn't tell him exactly what exactly pervaded over your psyche).
"Human lives are already so minute, so why waste time contemplating things of insignificance?"
You take a moment to ponder his words. Insignificant? Was the love you felt truly insignificant? Or is it the time you spent yearning over someone who couldn't even tell you to your face that they didn't feel the same? Or perhaps it's the fact that you have spent all this time moping around instead of doing something else with all that time and energy?
Malleus was right.
It really was insignificant.
"I know not of what matters plague your mind, but I know that humankind are vastly different from fae. I merely said to not waste your time on matters of insignificance. That does not include matters of the heart."
You scrunch your nose at that.
Malleus was starting to sound like all your other friends, and regardless of whether they were correct or not, the rut you found yourself in made you numb to his words. "How would you know about the ways I find to waste my time?" You ask bitterly.
"Then don't waste it."
Well that was blunt.
You didn't really know how to respond to that.
"If you believe that you are wasting your time, then simply turn your focus to something else. From my perspective, human life seems far too short to accomplish anything. On the surface, you waste your life as is, so why not waste your time doing something you love?"
You didn't really know whether to be offended or grateful for the advice.
It made sense though. You were wasting your time brooding over someone, so why not do something else with the limited time you had?
"You know what Malleus? I think you're right. What do you suggest I waste my time on then?" You see the smirk that adorns his face after you ask this and immediately realize what was about to suggest to you. "No gargoyles right now, please."
All of a sudden the smirk vanished into a pout - one you were keen on not falling for.
"Very well then Child of Man. Perhaps you would be inclined to learning archery?"
You look at him befuddled. "Archery!? I don't even know how to shoot an arrow Malleus!"
"Hence why I said learn."
He had you there.
"Even so, where would we even get bows and arrows from-"
"Right here." Malleus said as he magicked two pairs of bows and a bunch of arrows out of nowhere. "You now live in a world of magic, remember?"
He had you there too.
"And before you ask what we will use as our targets..."
You watch as he magicked boards. A whole bunch of them, all around the two of you.
"Very well then Tsunotarou. Lead the way!"
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Author's Note: Again, I am really sorry about how long this took to finish. Unfortunately, I got swamped with stuff, and there just doesn't seem to be an end to it all. I wanted to make this fic a lot longer, but then decided on something a little more quaint. I also included some of Malleus' voice lines from the game throughout the fic as fun little Easter eggs. Masterlist
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darlingmisa · 1 year
Note
If possible thigh riding with sage and or Skye? Preferably with fem reader but gn is fine as well!
Sweet Girl | Sage
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I've never written nsfw so I deeply apologize for how bad this probably is,,, also stuck with just Sage since I'm not too good with Skye yet.
tw: porn with no plot, literally just porn, fem reader, dom!Sage, sub!reader, 18+ content, praise kink if you squint
wc: 745
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You couldn’t exactly remember how you got here. It wasn’t rare for you both to be all over each other the minute you were alone, and using sex as a stress reliever definitely wasn’t rare between the two of you. But this was different. 
Sage was leaning back against the couch that resided to the left of her bed in her room, a glass of wine in one hand while the other rested on your hip. She looked oddly casual, relaxed even, except for the small smirk that rested on her lips as her eyes explored your half nude body in her lap. 
“Feel good sweetheart?” Her silky smooth voice rang through your ears. All you could do was nod, the only sounds coming from you being the soft whines and mumbles of her name as you continued to rub your cunt against her clothed thigh. 
Sage could feel the wet spot on her sweatpants grow as you continued, relying on her singular hand on your hip to keep you at a good rhythm. As your moans grew louder, breathing seemingly becoming harder, she could tell you were slowly growing closer to your release. She basked in the way your voice pitched every time she flexed the muscles in her thigh while adding more pressure to your hips, gripping tight enough to surely leave a mark. 
“I bet it does” Sage continued, setting her now empty wine glass on the table next to her, opting to grope you through the shirt you still had on, her shirt, relishing in the way your head fell to her shoulder as her fingers ran over your clothed nipple, pulling out an almost pornographic moan from you. “Doing so good for me, my sweet girl.”
The praise went straight to your head before shooting down to your core, leaving you clenching around nothing. She swiftly removed the shirt you were once in, abandoning it somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Now fully bare, Sage could only focus on the sheen of sweat across your chest that was subtly reflecting the light of the small lamp on the bedside table. 
“So pretty…all for me.” It was just loud enough for you to hear, feeling her warm breath now on your neck. When did she get so close? There was hardly time for you to think before you felt her soft lips leaving rough kisses and bites along your collarbone, sure to leave marks that would be difficult to cover when the morning came. 
Sage knew exactly what she was doing, finding the sweet spot in the crevice of your neck before biting, hard, pulling another very loud moan from your throat. Breathing seemed to become harder as she lifted her thigh, simultaneously pulling your hips down to where the pressure hit your clit just right, causing a sharp gasp to leave your lips and your thighs to tremble. 
Her mouth made it’s way down to the swell of your breasts, tongue circling the now hardened bud. “Close..s-so close, please.” All you could do was beg. Thoughts full of her and only her. The way her lips felt against your bare skin. How the tight grip she had on your hips felt so good. The way her thigh felt so perfect against your leaking pussy. Small, soft pleas consistently fell from your lips as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, still begging for her permission to finally let go. And oh how Sage loved it when you begged. 
“Come on, let go for me sweet girl, cum on my thigh.” That was all you needed to hear before throwing your head back with one more loud and broken moan. You felt your core snap while you gripped Sage’s shoulders, almost as if she'd slip away if you were to let go, legs now violently shaking with pleasure. This pulled a deep moan out of the woman herself, feeling her pants practically soak as you finish while your nails left little crescents in her skin.
Once your breathing slowed, Sage gently picked you up and moved your now weak body to the bed. You finally opened your eyes again, having them pinched shut since your orgasm. Looking up at the woman now leaning above you, you quickly took note of her eyes, still blown with lust. “Oh I’m not quite done with you yet princess.”
Yeah. It was gonna be a long night. 
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voxofthevoid · 6 months
Text
This is less WIP Wednesday and more Teaser Wednesday. I've gathered tiny snippets (150-200 words) from the 15 stories written for the April anniversary projects for this post.
Shibuya swap remains on hold until I finish #15, which may take longer than anticipated—still in time for the project, given that it's going to stretch across April and May owing to the total length.
Of the fifteen fics, eleven are solely Gojou/Yuuji; one is Higuruma/Yuuji; one is Sukuna/Yuuji; one is Kenjaku/Yuuji, and one is Gojou/Megumi/Yuuji (the excerpt is just Gojou/Megumi).
The list of the fics and premises can be found here, though I've given one-line summaries above the excerpts:
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01. Gojou/Yuuji: An offhand comment leads to Yuuji discovering the dubious joys of pet ownership.
Yuuji’s sure by now that Gojou’s managing to breathe somehow, though he really can’t figure out how when he’s in the exact same position he settled into when he collapsed on Yuuji and burrowed into his chest like—
“Oh,” Yuuji says, realization dawning, “you’re like a puppy.”
Gojou stills. Slowly, with a strangely severe air, he raises his head. Heavy-lidded blue eyes blink up at Yuuji. “Does that mean I get treats?”
Yuuji blinks right back. “Treats?”
“Puppies need to be trained,” Gojou says sagely, lifting himself up on both arms to hover over Yuuji. “Positive reinforcement. Don’t you know that?”
“No?” Yuuji’s thought of raising puppies, who hasn’t, but it wasn’t ever really a serious thought. It was never an achievable dream anyway. Plus, Gojou’s not actually a puppy. He’s not even any good at making puppy dog eyes. They glow too much.
They’re glowing right now, twin pools of starfire made severe by the way he’s frowning. “You’re not a very responsible dog owner then. Puppies are a lot of work, you know.”
02. Gojou/Yuuji (fem!goyuu): Yuuji finds religion in her teacher’s tits, violently.
“There’s no need to be jealous, Yuuji. Some girls are just late bloomers.”
Gojou’s voice startles Yuuji, making her jump, but the doll in her hand remains peacefully asleep. She sighs, relieved, though not as surprised as she’d have been a week back. It’s not like she was actively focusing on her cursed energy anyway, the pulse and flow of it through her arms an afterthought while she focused on—
What Gojou actually said sinks in then, and Yuuji hurriedly drags her eyes away from Gojou’s chest area.
Her tits, says an unimpressed voice from some rotten corner of her soul. You were staring at her tits, you degenerate worm.
Shut, she tells Sukuna, the fuck up.
Yuuji shoves her down before she can retort, and Sukuna never goes quietly or calmly, but she does go, and Yuuji’s left staring into the too-amused eyes of her very adult, very well-developed teacher.
“Um,” Yuuji says intelligently.
03. Gojou/Yuuji: Yuuji acquires a doll that’s sympathetically connected to Satoru. It’s innocent until it isn’t.
“I’ll leave you to your quality time with this guy,” Satoru says, stepping away from Shouko and the examination table. “Don’t have too much—”
Satoru collapses with a strangled sound, his knees hitting the tile hard enough to send a bolt of pain all the way to his pelvis, except it’s nothing compared to the storm of sensation there, eating through him like someone’s shoved a fist into his asshole, without lube or ceremony.
“—toru! Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
Satoru raises his head and finds Shouko kneeling in front of him, her palms pressed to a wall of solid air—Limitless, expanded on blind instinct.
“Nothing,” he gasps, not needing her incredulous expression to know every inch of him is showing that it’s something. “I…”
…have a cock in my ass that I didn’t put there, Satoru completes inside his head, half a revelation even to himself. He knows this sensation, the stretch and burn of his body around another body, but he also knows why and how this is happening, and that’s where his brain sparks and stutters to a stop.
04. Gojou/Yuuji: Megumi finds out that Gojou’s been giving Yuuji some hands-on sex education.
“An hour? Both of you? Huh.” Itadori shakes his head. “What did he…do?”
“What do you think? It’s Gojou-sensei. He projected a bunch of way-too-explicit pictures, talked about STDs in gruesome detail, and asked if we were into BDSM.”
Itadori blinks slowly. “That’s it?”
“He also called us boring virgins,” Megumi says drily. “Then he ran off with Kugisaki chasing him.”
“Did she catch him?”
“Obviously not.”
“Huh,” Itadori says again. “He skipped all that for me. Got right into it.”
Megumi takes a moment to process that. At least he tries. It doesn’t make sense. Itadori said Gojou’s taking that class for him on Friday, so why’s he talking like it’s already happened? And what does he mean by—
“Right into what?” Megumi asks warily, straightening up from his huddle on the chair. There’s a weird feeling in his spine that’s got nothing to do with the position.
Itadori cocks his head, like he’s confused by Megumi’s confusion. “The sex part.”
05. Gojou/Yuuji: Satoru has a late-night philosophical discussion with the King of Curses.
“I am a pretty interesting guy. And it’s not that I’m complaining about my exalted company, but you know, don’t you, that you shouldn’t be here?”
“Shouldn’t I?” Yuuji asks mildly, now at the foot of Satoru’s bed.
“Sukuna’s been allowed to live because he’s the ideal vessel, capable of fully suppressing you.” Satoru eyes the hand now braced on his mattress, barely an inch away from his left foot. “You don’t look very suppressed to me.”
“Blood,” says Yuuji.
Satoru blinks at the non-sequitur. “Are you a vampire now?”
“What’s that?”
“Mythical creature that drinks the blood of humans.” Satoru bats his eyelashes at Yuuji. “I hear they prefer virgins.”
“Then you’re safe.”
“That’s a hell of an assumption to make about a guy you don’t even know.”
“I know your type.”
“Calling me a slut while climbing into my bed isn’t a good look, Yuuji.”
“I called you nothing,” Yuuji says, now looming over Satoru like a lover. “Only made an observation. And I do not want to drink your blood.”
06. Gojou/Yuuji: Satoru’s ward is in that peculiar purgatory between puberty and presentation. He tries to help.
Satoru rubs his palm in a slow circle against Yuuji’s stomach, trying for soothing but landing on something that makes Yuuji still and shudder against him. The reaction’s further incentive to slide his hands down, over the hairless skin under his navel and the sparse thatch at his groin, till his fingers find exactly what they expect to find.
Yuuji arches against him with a strangled shout as Satoru’s hand curls around his hard cock.
“Is this,” Satoru asks softly, “what Megumi’s been making you feel?”
“Satoru-san,” Yuuji whines. “That feels—”
“Weird?”
“Yes!”
“Good or bad weird?”
Yuuji’s quiet for a long few seconds. Then— “Not bad.”
“Was it ‘not bad’ with Megumi too?”
“…Kind of. It didn’t feel like this.”
“I’d hope not,” Satoru says, with a laugh that feels like something else in his throat. “If you make cute little Megumi touch you like this, his very scary dad will come for your head. Well, my head. And then I’d have to put him in his place, again, and the Zen'in will get involved, and it’ll be a whole mess. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Yuuji?”
07. Gojou/Yuuji: Satoru learns why most alphas don’t fuck other alphas.
Satoru exhales, shoving his forehead into the pillow to get himself some breathing room. He inhales, slow and deep, and unclenches his muscles in a rippling, gut-swooping wave, right in time for Yuuji to tear into him with the mindless fury of a beast.
His rim burns, a howling hot hurt—
Satoru gasps into the pillow, everything except the corner of his mind devoted to smothering every instinctive attempt at Limitless turning to white static for a brief, burning eternity.
—and gives, screaming the whole time.
Yuuji cleaves him in two, carving a red-hot path through clenching walls and steaming viscera to lodge himself in Satoru’s throat.
He hasn’t. Satoru knows this. It feels like it.
He can’t breathe with it.
Distantly, he’s aware of Yuuji coming inside him, the cock and knot not softening an iota in the process. It’s the size that’s eating him. Yuuji’s cock was big to start with, but his knot is monstrous—an obscene stretch that has set fire to Satoru’s muscles. They clench around it, helpless attempts at pushing it out of him, but his hole has closed up tight behind it, and if Yuuji tries to pull it out again, Satoru will kill him.
08. Higuruma/Yuuji: A wardrobe malfunction drastically alters the aftermath of Yuuji’s fight with Higuruma.
“Itadori,” Higuruma rasps, “put the shirt on.”
“I could.” Yuuji shrugs with a nonchalance he doesn’t feel, dropping the messy hood. “Do you really want me to though?”
Higuruma looks briefly pained. But he’s still looking. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Direct approach then. Not that Yuuji knows anything else, but he usually doesn’t have to use his words, just his body. “Do you want to have sex, Higuruma-san?”
Higuruma gets a little bug-eyed, almost as expressive as he was when yelling at Yuuji about darkness and light and people. “Itadori.”
“I don’t mind,” Yuuji assures him.
“That’s not the—” Higuruma briefly closes his eyes, raising a hand to grind two knuckles into the space between his eyes. “How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
There’s a low, strangled noise. “Do you usually go around propositioning men over twice your age?”
“Not really,” Yuuji says. It’s mostly true. Half true. “I don’t get it though.”
For a moment, Higuruma almost looks him in the eye. “You don’t get why I wouldn’t want to fuck a child?”
“When you put it like that…” Yuuji takes a testing step forward, and Higuruma tenses but doesn’t move. “You were ready to kill me earlier, right? This can’t be worse.”
09. Gojou/Yuuji: When Yuuji’s fifteen, Gojou Satoru dies; when Yuuji’s seventeen, Gojou Satoru is born.
“Satoru-kun, wake up.”
The tiny lump on the bed doesn’t stir. Yuuji huffs, more amused than anything. Satoru’s antics haven’t really changed over the last four years. He’s gotten less subtle, really. Yuuji knows what he’s like when he’s really asleep—a messy splay of limbs, the thick covers somehow dominated by a body that should be drowning under them instead. Satoru only vanishes under them when he’s trying to lure Yuuji in.
And Yuuji keeps getting lured, so it’s technically his own fault.
“It’s ten in the morning,” he tells the approximate shape of a head. “Last time you messed up your sleep cycle, you were grouchy for a week. C’mon, Satoru-kun.”
Still nothing.
Yuuji sighs and grabs the top of the covers, yanking them down.
Radiant blue glowers at him. “You’re late.”
“Good morning to you too,” Yuuji greets. “And I’m not late. I’m early. I wasn’t due back for another week, remember?”
Satoru’s scowl deepens. On the sharp-faced, painfully pretty adult he’ll undoubtedly grow into, it’ll be a terrifying expression. On this tiny nine-year-old whose face is half white fluff and half curse blue, it’s just adorable. Yuuji wants to pinch his cheeks and coo at him.
10. Sukuna/Yuuji: A bad breakup isn’t a good excuse to fuck the monster rotting your soul, but Yuuji’s made worse decisions—probably.
There’s no change in Sukuna’s expression or posture while Yuuji climbs to him, but his gaze is unwavering, four eyes redder than the blood soaking this realm zeroed in on Yuuji with animal intensity. There’s an answering animal urge inside him—two of them.
Look down, show your belly.
Look back, bare your teeth.
Yuuji chooses the only one he ever could.
A foot stops him, slamming into his midsection before he can touch Sukuna.
“You’re an impertinent fool,” Sukuna drawls. “I should pluck out your eyes.”
“Try me, asshole.”
“And your tongue.” Sukuna’s still smiling, wide and lazy. There’s a terrible tenderness in his tone—hunger made sacred in the worse way Yuuji’s ever witnessed. “Might as well make it a whole feast—split you open from throat to gullet and slurp up your innards, break your bones with my teeth to suck out the marrow of your ribs. You’d make a half-decent meal now. And you’d thank me for it, wouldn’t you?”
“Like hell,” Yuuji snarls, grabbing Sukuna’s ankle.
It responds by sliding down, from his stomach to his groin.
Yuuji freezes.
“The infection just wouldn’t be worth it,” Sukuna says, the lower set of eyes resting on what his foot is touching. “After all, you’re so disgustingly human.”
11. Gojou/Yuuji: When a blip in time lands sixteen-year-old Satoru in the future, he finds himself in possession of a cursed object sporting his own eyes and a grieving boy who can’t look away from those eyes.
“I meant it by the way—you should just eat that box.”
Realization widens Itadori’s eyes, bleeding gracelessly across his scarred face. “What the hell, senpai!”
“What? It’s logical.” Satoru approaches the bed. Itadori’s eyes are fixed on him now, nothing hollow about them anymore. “That Angel person is dead, Tengen-sama’s gone, and none of you have found a way to bust this prison open. You might as well eat it.”
“It’s not a snack box!” Itadori says hotly. “It’s Gojou-sensei! It’s you.”
“Don’t compare me to that fossil. Besides, that’s more reason to do it. You already have one Gojou Satoru, here in the flesh. We might as well get some use out of the box, and it’d be interesting, don’t you think, to see what would become of you if you ate me?”
For a moment, Itadori just stares at him, nearly vibrating with…something. Not anger, not any kind of straightforward upset. But he’s pure emotion from the fire in his eyes to the strength in his fingers.
Then he sucks in a deep breath, slumping in place. “That was a terrible joke, Satoru-senpai.”
“Was it?” Satoru asks mildly. “You could’ve at least laughed. Spare my feelings.”
12. Kenjaku/Yuuji: Yuuji makes reasonable assumptions about the handsome man stalking him. Kenjaku gets to enjoy the fruits of their labor.
Getou’s changed into a thin, loose t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s still toweling his hair, the ends of it dripping wet. That looks like a lot of work.
Yuuji can’t help staring. Getou has such an interesting face. He tries not to focus on the scar stretching across his forehead because he doesn’t want to be rude, but the rest of his features are fair game, right? Especially the hair. It looks different all loose like this, framing Getou’s face in new and striking ways. There are more loose strands, probably the bits usually pulled into the top knot. And it’s still damp, plus mussed from the towel, leaving bits of it clinging to the sides of Getou’s face.
“Do you like the view?” Getou asks.
Yuuji jumps a little, looking back at the city and then at Getou again. “Y-yeah. It’s great.”
A faint smile, very sharp for something that looks so soft. “Come inside and close the door. You’re letting the AC out.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“I was thinking about what to do with you,” Getou says while Yuuji closes the balcony doors, and when he turns around, Getou’s seated on the bed, one leg folded under him so that he’s half turned toward Yuuji. “And then I realized I should just ask you. What do you want, Yuuji?”
13. Gojou/Yuuji: In a faraway forest enclosed in Brahmic barriers, there’s a boy who loves and hates the world in equal measure.
“You’ve grown so demanding,” Satoru says, keeping his hands firmly tucked in his pockets despite the siren call of Yuuji’s wet skin. The eyes are a better deterrent than his own self-restraint. Mismatched from all angles—the primary pair red on the left and brown on the right, the secondary pair brown on the left and red on the right. It’s as if they decided during their unholy apotheosis that no one would have the luxury of pretense.
“Satoru,” says the mouth that once called him Gojou-sensei, called him Six Eyes, “I missed you.”
Something inside Satoru shudders, a prickling disruption like ice melting. His hands twitch free of the pockets, and his body sways forward, melting into an embrace that’s returned with possessive fervor, four palms sliding over him with enough fervid force to brand him through the thick layers of his uniform before settling on his back, clasping him close to a body that seems to burn with its own inner fire.
“Yuuji,” Satoru murmurs, a question and an invitation.
Yuuji leans in with heavy-lidded eyes and sinks his teeth into Satoru’s throat.
14. Gojou/Yuuji: Yuuji’s hormones battle his morals while his half-naked teacher sleeps on his lap.
All Gojou’s got on is a pair of boxers, and they’re loose enough that they’ve slid down to bunch up at the crease of his thighs.
You’d think it’s getting hotter, not colder, but Yuuji can’t exactly complain. He’s the one trespassing on Gojou’s time and home, and it’s none of his business how Gojou dresses in his downtime. It’s not like he isn’t enjoying the view either. It’s just very hard not to touch sometimes. Yuuji keeps catching himself staring at pink nipples and shapely pecs and chiseled abs and even at places further down, like the telltale bulge between his legs and the obscene thickness of his thighs.
He won’t do anything though. He wouldn’t betray Gojou’s trust like that. It’s flattering, really, that Gojou’s so comfortable with him. Yuuji wouldn’t ever—
Gojou makes a soft, huffing noise and rolls over, curling his very long body into a fetal position—
“Shit,” Yuuji rasps.
—and pushing his face into Yuuji’s dick.
It throbs, ten times more vicious than the dull ache till now.
This can’t be happening.
Gojou breathes out, hot air skewering Yuuji’s cock through his sweats.
It’s absolutely happening.
15. Gojou/Megumi/Yuuji: Satoru crashes his student’s private time, and then the number of students in the equation doubles.
“Are you going to fight?”
“Stop it.” This can’t be happening. “You can’t do this, stop it—”
“Or scream,” Gojou suggests, brightening perversely. “Yuuji would run to your rescue. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Megumi opens his mouth, and then those words slam into him.
Itadori would come running. He’d break through that door like it’s made of straw and see this grotesque tableau. And Itadori’s a noble fool; he wouldn’t run from Gojou, only to him, and nothing about Gojou’s serrated smile says that will end well for Itadori.
Gojou likes Itadori. Megumi knows that. Everyone in the school, even the higher-ups, knows that. But that doesn’t mean Itadori’s safe. Gojou caring hasn’t made anyone safe, ever. Megumi would know.
“Don’t,” he says; it comes out soft, barely a breath. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
“That’s a hefty demand,” Gojou says, cocking his head to the side. “What should I touch instead? You?”
Megumi screws his eyes shut. “Don’t.”
The hand on his wrist loosens, a thumb stroking over his pulse. “Don’t be so scared. It’s not like I’ll do anything you don’t want. I did interrupt, didn’t I? I’ll make it up to you.”
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sister-dear · 1 year
Note
#9 for soft prompts with Ravioli I am WEAK for shoulder kisses 😍
Shoulder kisses are so so good I agree! There are mouth and cheek kisses in this as well as the requested shoulder kisses. I’m sincerely hoping that’s ok! If you’re not comfy reading that though I’ll gladly take another go. Written as a direct followup to this! From this soft prompts list.
Fandom: A Link Between Worlds Pairing: Link/Ravio Other tags: kissing, new relationship Wordcount: 1113
Ugh. Well. That could have gone better. 
Could also have been worse! But it could have gone better.
Once again, Link staggered home. No broken bones or openly weeping wounds this time, thankfully. The burst of life magic released when those especially large monsters died always took care of all of that. 
No, Link was just tired. Exhausted, really. 
He maybe hadn’t given himself quite enough time to recover after that fever. 
But it didn’t matter. One more monster gone. One more Sage free of Yuga’s entrapping spell.
One more thing Link had to do before he could allow himself a little rest.
He hit the front door at the same brisk pace he’d used all the way home, stepping over the doorsill and dropping his pack to the floor without slowing. 
Ravio jumped at the sudden bang of the door slamming open, squeaked when Link kept walking straight forward and faceplanted in his shoulder. 
“Mr Hero! You’re home! Oh, what’s wrong this time?” He patted Link down as if searching for injury.
“Nothing,” Link muttered. “I missed you.” 
“Oh!” Obviously still a little startled - Link could perhaps have entered his home with a bit more grace and a bit less steely determination written over his face - Ravio returned the embrace regardless. 
It felt a little easier, the second time. A little less hesitant, a little more sure of his welcome.
“I missed you too,” Ravio returned after a long pause wherein Link breathed, trying to gather his famed courage. He maybe shouldn’t be hanging all over Ravio like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to move now that he was finally here. 
He’d had a little speech all figured out. Been practicing it all through that dungeon, to the point of almost lethal distraction, at which point he’d finally forced himself to focus and just finish the thing so he could get back home already. 
Except now he couldn’t quite remember the neat, tidy little way he’d figured out to ask exactly what Ravio meant by the word fond. 
This shoulder under his cheek sure was nice, though.
“Mr Hero!” Ravio’s yelp startled Link to enough awareness to realize he was perhaps leaning a little too hard. 
He might be more tired than he’d thought. 
“Sorry,” he mumbled, getting a little more of his feet back under him. He didn’t lift his head, though. Or unwind his arms from where they’d found themselves around Ravio’s waist. They fit remarkably well.
“Maybe you should go to bed?” Came the tentative suggestion. 
Link made a disagreeable noise. There was something he’d wanted to do first… something he had to ask… 
“I’ve been thinking,” he slurred into the scarf. Exhaustion made his head spin. He felt almost giddy, but that wasn’t right. He still had to ask a question.
“About?”
“About what ‘fond’ means.”
“Don’t go expecting discounts!” Ravio declared, despite that he’d given Link exactly that the very first time Link purchased something from him outright. “I still have a business to run!”
Link snorted. 
What was it he’d meant to say next?
“Can I kiss you?”
Hm. That wasn’t it. 
Wait. 
Pulse suddenly pounding in his ears, a great rushing in every extremity, Link jerked up. Ravio’s arms tightened, keeping him from going too far. “I mean. Uh.” He’d had something better to say what was it, what was it–. “I missed you?”
“You already said that. I missed you too. Go back to the other thing.” Every hint of cheer and nervousness that usually colored the way Ravio spoke disappeared in favor of what sounded like complete seriousness. 
“That’s not. You don’t have to– I mean, I’d be happy if fond just meant you wanted to, to. Just be friends. Or.” He’d had an entire dialogue prepared, and he was ripping it to absolute shreds along with any possible chance.
“Yes.” 
Or not.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” Intent. That was the word. Ravio sounded intent. 
Heart still pounding, Link turned his head and kissed Ravio’s cheek through his hood. 
He lingered. Just for a moment. Just long enough for it to register what the action was. Then he pulled away, loosened his arms, giving Ravio space to move back if he wanted. 
Ravio looked at him. Link had no idea what kind of expression lay under that hood. 
A little tentative, feeling suddenly shy, Link curled back down to Ravio’s shoulder. 
Ravio’s hands cupped his face, pulling him up. He yanked his hood back just enough to kiss Link squarely on the mouth. 
This one lasted much, much longer.
~~~
Ravio’s bustling in the kitchen woke Link earlier than he would have preferred the next morning, as it usually did. Today, the soft clattering of dishware and cutlery didn’t seem quite so harsh on his ears. Link spent a little while listening to the happy little hums that he’d begun to associate with the smell of food being prepared. 
Eventually collecting himself enough to get up, he padded across the floor on near silent feet and wrapped his arms around Ravio from behind. 
“Good morning, Mr Hero!”
Link hummed. 
Ravio had his hood on already, but not the scarf. Link pressed his mouth to a place midway down his shoulder that the scarf would usually cover. 
Ravio’s head tipped over onto his, one hand coming up to press Link’s face against himself. “I made breakfast!” he declared, cheery voice at full volume despite the closeness and the early hour. 
“Sounds good.” 
Link didn’t move. Ravio didn’t either. 
Link shifted his mouth a little to the left and kissed the new spot. Then a little more, making Ravio squirm and finally laugh when his lips found that narrow little strip of bare skin. 
Ravio’s shoulder, Link decided, might just be his new favorite spot. 
“Do you want breakfast or not?”
“Is there tea?”
“Of course!” Ravio sounded downright affronted, as if serving breakfast without tea were an insult of the highest order. 
“I’ll take tea and a kiss,” he said, hopeful. 
Ravio squirmed out of his arms, but he turned around and pulled Link against himself instead, leaning back against the counter. Link wrapped his arms around Ravio in return. They still fit just right. “You were ill only a week ago, and you just ran off to fight some horrid monster! Recovering heroes need a proper breakfast!”
“They need kisses, too.” 
“Breakfast first. Then kisses,” Ravio relented. “But don’t take too long! I have a shop to run!” 
Happy with this arrangement, Link dropped one last kiss on the shoulder beneath his chin and pulled away to drop into his spot at the table.
Breakfast was nearly as delicious as the kisses that followed it.
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imkillerbae · 1 year
Note
Would you do a sequel in plush drama? I feel you are talented at long stories ❤️
Snap Drama (Valorant Yoru x Reader) (Plush Drama pt 2)
Summary: You file a leave and you miss Yoru so you send him a snap.
Word count: 3.5k
CW: Fluff, Fem!Reader, Phoenix, Jett and Neon slander, crab talk, mentions of celebrities I dont know)
Art is also by me
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The windows were left open, the midnight air was cold as it blew against your curtains. The stars were bright against the indigo sky, and you stared at them quietly, hugging your black cat plush against your chest.
You were on leave from the VP, currently residing in your home with your family. And while you enjoyed the time you had with the folks, you couldn’t help but wonder how everyone was in HQ. Especially Yoru.
When your leave papers were signed, he was away for a mission and wouldn’t be back until further notice. You didn’t know why, but you felt bad leaving without saying goodbye properly.
With a heavy heart, you packed lightly for the trip. But you didn’t forget to pack Yoru Jr. with you, since you didn’t wanna feel lonely in the plane. And during the flight, you itched to send him a text, or call him. It’s not like you needed to tell him any of this. But it just felt wrong not to. You shook the thoughts away: you can’t jeopardize his mission just so you could update him about something he may not even be interested in knowing.
It was a week after you left that he got back from the mission with Sage, Sova and Reyna. He was jetlagged, hungry, and aching in places he shouldn’t be. But all he wanted to do as he stepped down the Vulture was to give you this keychain he bought from Bangkok, a trinket he managed to snag with limited time.
His brows knit together as his eyes roamed the field, the agents coming to greet them, but there was no sign of you anywhere. He grits his teeth as he approached Phoenix. “Aye, man! You don’t look too hot,” he laughs, doing their handshake. “Yeah, and? I’ll get patched up later.” He replies curtly, brushing the dust off his jacket, looking around as covertly as he could, hoping that you were just late or something.
“Whatcha looking for?” Phoenix asks, also looking around. Yoru’s eye twitches in annoyance but he shakes his head. “No one. Doesn’t matter.” With that reply, Phoenix quirks an eyebrow before smirking. “Ah, I see how it is,” he smiles widely, elbowing Yoru. “If you’re looking for Y/N, she’s on leave. I’m surprised you didn’t know?”
Yoru raises a brow. He knew about your scheduled leave, but he thought that it would be approved later than anticipated. He gripped on the keychain he held inside his fist. “Wasn’t looking for anyone,” he shrugs, but winces at the aching on his arm.
It was Phoenix’s time to raise a brow. “Is that right? Say that again, and I’ll believe you,” he laughs, shaking his head. Phoenix found it funny how hard his best friend tried to hide how much he liked you, and yet everyone could see how enamored he was. But no one wants to play cupid unless they wanted a bullet through their stomach, curtesy of Yoru.
Except for Phoenix of course. He had the balls to play with fire.
Yoru hissed at him and his teasing, huffing. “I don’t have time for your nonsense right now Phoenix. Go unpack or someshit. Make yourself useful,” he rolls his eyes, pulling the jacket off him. With the soreness he had, it was getting heavy. “Oh, but am I really talking nonsense?” He jokes, snagging the keychain from Yoru’s grip by the loop, spinning it around his fingertips. “Another knickknack huh? If you keep being such a chicken, she’s gonna have enough shit for a yard sale.”
Yoru blushed, blood rushing from his neck. After his first move of giving you that cat plush, he’s been building up the courage to give you something a little more overt with his intentions. His intentions being along the lines of ‘I like you and I want to spoil you’. “What the fuck are you on about? T-that’s not for her. I just found that lying around some place,” he defended, too tired to retrieve the thing from Phoenix.
“Oh yeah? I’ll keep it then if it isn’t too important. That alright with you?” Phoenix challenged, reaching his hand out, the hoop of the keychain dangling on his fingertips. With a smug grin, he jingles it, mocking Yoru as he tried his best to look disinterested; his red face giving him away. “Doudemo ii. It’s trash anyway,” he grumbled and rolled his eyes, walking towards the HQ entrance, bumping his shoulders against Phoenix in annoyance.
“You know, you gotta make up a better excuse than ‘I found it some place,’ she’s not some lost and found box!” Phoenix calls out, and Yoru’s eye twitches as he turns around to give Phoenix the middle finger. Why was he a million times more annoying today? And why did he have to meddle so much?
But as much as he hated what Phoenix said, he was right. He needed to make up a more sensible excuse; he can’t just keep giving you stuff and hope the message comes across clearly. He needed to make a move.
But that’s easier said than done. Actually, it’s not easy saying it either.
Recently, anytime he’s talked to you, his brain would lag, trying to form the right sentences. It wasn’t like him to be so careful with his words, being known to be quite the opposite. But with you, he found himself wanting to be more sincere. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t his style, so he just ends up being quiet. He never stuttered, and yet you always had him too stunned to speak.
When he stumbles on his words, he gets so mad at himself that he distances himself from you sometimes. He always thought of himself as a confident man, egotistic even. And yet you were able to stun him with just a smile. And when you say his name, oh god. He found it so cute, his heart clenches at the sound. Why was he so bad at communicating his feelings?
After a trip to the infirmary, a relaxing bath and a long nap, he was well rested. Unfortunately, this resulted in him not being able to fall asleep at night time. A warm towel was propped on his neck, his hair down from its updo. He sat on his chair, propping one leg up. He stared at himself in the mirror, eyes narrowed. He was annoyed with himself and his inability to communicate properly beyond the battlefield. It was frustrating. He could tell how confused you were with his mixed signals, and he was trying his best to set himself straight.
He looked at his phone and thought of you. Somehow he wanted to overcompensate and send you a text. He just wanted to talk to you and not fuck up. Unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way.
It was already late at night and yet you still wanted to text him. You wanted to know how he was, how his mission ended, and tell him sorry that you weren’t able to meet before you left. Fuck it, I can’t take this anymore, you thought to yourself. Yoru was brave enough to hand you gifts, you should be brave enough to send a text.
But what text should I send?
Picking up the phone was the easy part. Typing down words seemed daunting. You scratch your head, biting your lip. Plus, where do you even send it? You wouldn’t be caught dead sending anyone flirty messages in VAL-SECURE. Scrolling through your apps, you see Snap. Perfect. You should send him a photo!
But of what?
God this was getting more complicated than it needs to be. Your palms sweat as you stare at yourself in the screen. It would be too forward sending a selfie out of nowhere. You look around and see your plush, and ding! An idea comes to mind. You send a picture of the cat instead and captioned it with a ‘hi :>’
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As soon as you saw that the message was sent, you threw your phone to the bed and stared off into the distance. The act of spontaneity hitting you like a brick wall.
You sent the Kiritani Ryo a fucking Snap.
It’s not like you’ve never texted each other before, but it was mostly just updates about the protocol or missed mission details. But this was Snapchat. You didn’t even know if he used that. You knew he had social media but never posted anything, only using it to check on others or troll Phoenix.
Out of nervousness, you hug the poor cat plush. You reminded yourself that it was already late, and he may not even reply. You felt a pang of comfort then sadness at that fact. Much to your chagrin, you see the light of your phone pulse. A notification. You look at the phone, mortified.
Shit.
Yoru on the other hand stared blankly at the photo you sent, finding himself too stunned to act on it initially. Blood rushes from his neck to his face, his ears almost steaming as he stared closely at the picture. He felt his heart clench. It was… so cute…
Even if you weren’t in the photo, he found it adorable that you brought the plush with you. He also couldn’t help but imagine you in bed with your pyjamas, lying down as you send the cute picture. He rubs his forehead with his free hand, baffled and in awe. It took him a few moments to register the fact that he had to reply something.
Looking at himself at the mirror, his brows raise. He checked himself on all angles and smirked to himself. His hair wasn’t done up but he looked good regardless, something he took pride in.
But as soon as he opened the camera, a blush crept up his cheeks.
He was sending YOU a fucking SELFIE at 12 AM.
Anytime he tried to get a good photo of himself, the blush was very evident. He tried every good angle, but he couldn’t hide how flustered he was. God, you got him taking selfies at 2AM. He didn’t even like taking photos of himself!
Out of desperation, he instead sends a photo of half of his face. He captioned it with a simple ‘hey.’ Fuck it.
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After it sent, he froze in his seat, his face red like a tomato. He was screaming angrily at himself on the inside for that horrible angle but not a sound left his lips. He sat the phone down on his lap, pulling out his comb and combing his hair in panic.
It was laughable how easily you’d turn this narcissistic and egocentric jerk into the most self-conscious and shy person ever.
Seeing the photo on your end, you gasp and squeal. You bit your lip, trying to drown down your excitement. You saved the photo and smiled. He was so adorable. You didn’t expect him to send you anything of this sort. Breathing in, you prepare to reply.
> Lol why are u still awake? You chat, then holding down the phone to your chest. Surprisingly, he replied rather quickly this time.
>> I could ask you the same thing. You laugh to yourself. The way he chats is similar to the way he talks; blunt and dry.
> Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d bother you for a bit. You replied honestly.
He stares at your last message for a little while. He smiled a little to himself, the last sentence sending butterflies to his stomach. On your end, it seemed he was typing out something long, but you were dismayed to see his actual reply.
>> Oh.
Oh. What could he mean by that? You sat there for a bit, thinking about what to reply. You were starting to think this was a bad idea, sending him a text knowing damn well he was tired from the mission. Maybe he wasn’t in the moo—
>> How are you holding up there
Your eyes widened as he sent another message.
> It’s fun for the most part. Got to hang out with family. Hard dodging questions about my *job*
> But it does get a bit boring sometimes. There’s not much to do around here.
> How about you? How was your mission btw
As you sent your replies, he patiently waits for you to finish your thought. It takes a while for him to reply, thinking carefully about what to say. Although he is a bit glad that his brain doesn’t lag as much through text.
>> You brought the plush huh
That was all he replied after a long while. You pout as he dodged the question.
>> I hope he’s good company when you’re bored.
He was really happy to see that you brought the cat with you. It gave him a bit of an ego boost. But he’d never tell that to you.
> Oh yeah, he is. I was scared of missing the VP so I thought I’d bring a piece of it along with me.
2 minutes pass.
>> that’s good.
>> nothing too exciting about the mission. Bangkok has pretty good food. We kicked ass. The usual.
>> I got you a keychain but one direction took it for himself.
> Did you just call phoenix… one direction????????????
>> He’s a brit and he sings. Makes sense.
> you cant just call him that😭
>> better yet: No Direction. Because his aim is shit and he’s a fucking idiot.
> OMG😭😭😭
> what does that make Neon👀
>> idk. Imitation lea salonga maybe
>> kinda like imitation crab. It’s good but not quite the same with the real thing
>> had to look up filipino singers for that one idk any
> mans really comparing neon to a crab😭😭😭
>> correction: lea salonga crab. This isn’t some normal crustacean.
>> it’s got the karaoke buff
> hahahaha!😭
While you laugh at his silly remarks, Yoru on the other hand was sweating in his seat, his hoodie suddenly feeling a lot heavier.
Since when did he get so chatty?
He was trying so hard to be funny, it was pathetic.All he needed now was to smear lipstick on his nose and he’d be a fully fledged clown. He sighs and gets out of his room, walking to the rooftop for some air.
> To be fair, Neon’s hairdo does look like crab pincers.
>> ?
> YOU PLANTED IT IN MY BRAIN
> Now I cannot *unsea*
> badum tss
> hehe
>> wow
>> im blocking you now.
> No pls
>> beg
> WTF😭
He smiles absentmindedly as his legs guided him up the rooftop. His hoodie did enough to shield him from the cold night air, the mellow moonlight illuminating his steps. His hair flows with the breeze from the ocean, and he could see the stars vividly. The HQ was isolated from the world in an island, which made the sky all the more clear. He stood in front of the low railing and propped a foot up on it, taking a lighter and lighting up a cigarette. He huffs out smoke which was immediately blown away behind him.
> hey
> is it okay if I call?
He stares at the message for a moment, his heart clenching again. He looks around nervously, gritting his teeth. He’d love to, but he might fuck his words up. His foot taps impatiently against the concrete floor, trying to decide how to reply.
> or not
> it’s okay if not
Seeing that, he presses the call button out of impulse. Pressing the phone against his cheek, he waits for you to answer.
You jumped when your phone started ringing, with his face plastered over the screen. You blushed, your spontaneity paying off. Clearing your throat, you breathe out through your mouth. Pressing the answer icon, you smiled.
“Hey,” he says through the phone, blowing out smoke. “Hi,” you squeak, lying on your side with the plush to your chest. “I almost thought it wasn’t you sending those messages,” you laugh, and he jerks an eyebrow upward. “How so?” He asks curiously, sitting down on the concrete, his back to the moonlight.
“Well, you’re not exactly the type to use social media often, let alone snap.”
“That depends heavily on who tries to reach me.”
He could hear your slow breaths, and your voice sent tingles up his spine. He loved the way you spoke. He could listen to you talk all night. “So you’d be okay with me sending you messages sometimes then?” You ask with a large smile, and he huffs out smoke before replying. “Anytime,” he replies bluntly.
Write me a novella if you’d like. I’ll be your biggest fan.
He hears you laugh, and the butterflies in his stomach rage. “Why does it sound so windy there?” You ask him curiously, turning on your other side.
“I’m in the rooftop.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Smoking.”
You raised a brow, then your eyes narrow. “Huh, I didn’t know you smoked.” You pout a bit as you said that, and as if he saw it, he purses his lips. “Only when I’m nervous,” he says in defense, biting the cigarette slightly. “Why would you be nervous haha,” you chuckled.
“Hn. You could say you have that effect on me,” he admits honestly, blushing lightly. There was no point lying about that. You also blush at that remark. You didn’t understand the whole meaning of it but it was enough to make you grin like an idiot.
“It was unfortunate that I left without saying bye properly to you… a-and Sage and the rest. I was wondering what souvenir you’d like to have?” You ask, your socked feet rubbing together in anticipation. He’s silent for a moment, staring at his shadow.
“Make it up to me by getting back here safely.” And soon, he thought.
“What, you miss me already?” You teased, and he chuckles.
“Hm. You could say that.” He replies after a bit of silence.
“Admittedly, the whole place seems a lot duller than usual whenever you’re not around. Even Joon-he’s big mouth can’t liven the whole place up.” He adds. He remembered how his heart dropped when he didn’t see you waiting for him when he got back.
“Really? Phoenix not giving you enough headaches to keep you entertained?”
“Oh, plenty. He’s even more annoying today. He took my fucking keychain, that bitch.”
You laugh as he spoke about his best friend, the protocol, the mission, while you told him about your day, the constellations, Jett’s secret stash of kimchi, and everything else under the moon. All your drowsiness left your body as you talked the night away, your conversation lasting for hours. Even if his seat was uncomfortable, he was happy to be on the rooftop just listening to you rant about the randomest things. This is the first time in a while you’ve both talked this deeply. Ever since he realized he liked you, it got hard for him to talk to you this way. Who knew that all it took was for you to make the first move.
As you talked, he noticed that dawn was coming soon, and it was getting early already. He didn’t feel sleepy, but he could hear you yawn every now and then. As much as he wanted to keep talking, he didn’t want to get you too tired.
“You should sleep.” He says, standing up and dusting his pants. He looks at the moon, still bright in the sky. “Yeah, I know,” you yawned, huffing. “How long has it been? 3 hours?” You chuckled, looking at your clock.
“Yeah. Sumanai, I shouldn’t have kept you up too late.”
“Nah, it’s fine. I enjoy talking to you. You were the highlight of my night… and morning I guess.”
“Hm.” He blushed, looking at the moon. It gave him butterflies knowing you were both looking at the same thing, even though you were miles away from each other. “Go to sleep.” He suggests, and out of drowsiness, you nod in response. “Good night Ryo,” you smile, closing your eyes.
He doesn’t drop the call yet, hesitating. “Hey, Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“I forgot to say something.”
“What is it?”
“Suki da. Oyasumi.”
He then turns the call off, leaving you a bit confused. What did he say? Oh god, he was gonna be so mad if he found out you were too sleepy to understand anything right now. You were gonna have to ask him what the hell he said later, but right now, you needed to sleep.
Yoru on the other hand stared at the sunrise peeking through the clouds. He watched as the sky turned from blue to orange, the ocean waves fiercer than hours before. The wind was cold, but his heart and stomach felt warm and giddy. He doesn’t know whether you heard him or not, but that doesn’t matter.
All that matters is that he meant it.
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pennysperfectpolls · 6 months
Text
Adoption poll round 2 match 14
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Elphaba Thropp (Wicked)
Nahida (genshin inpact)
Propaganda under the cut
Elphaba Thropp (Wicked)Propaganda
Big spoilers
If we’re going for characters with bonkers home lives, Elphie has got to be up there. Depending on who you count as a ‘parent’ Elphaba has like five of them.
Her bio dad is super duper evil and keeps having her friends and family killed (to the point of like, having her dead boyfriend’s widow’s sisters executed, ten years after she’s made any active moves against him). He’s a literal evil dictator, so, bad look all around.
Her parents as far as she knows them are a nutty preacher who sees her being born green as a manifestation of his own sin, calls her a punishment from his god in front of her when she’s like seven, and openly favours her sister to an absurd degree. Her mother sort of just tolerates her, and is usually too high to even do that— also she was so desperate for a boy that Elphaba openly calls her younger brother, who her mother died without meeting, mother’s favourite child.
Nanny comes in to look after Elphaba and is the best parent she has in that she seems to care about her even a little bit, but she also ends up having to favour her sister. Also she is an employee, which narrows things down a little.
Her parents also have a boyfriend who she seems to like a fair bit, but he was human sacrificed when she was very young, so there’s that. Oh, and the goat professor she gets very close to, and then he’s murdered, and she has to break into the crime scene to save his research from being destroyed by her dictator dad. It’s a mess really.
Other important things include; her mother being so determined not to have another child who looked like her she took medicine that caused her younger sister to be born with a disability (and her being constantly blamed for it, in the musical), her parents deciding to raise her in a swamp despite her having a severe water allergy, and therefore presumably causing her constant pain. Her parents dragging her on missions where she apparently saw enough deaths to be able to competently recognise the signs at seventeen.
Oh, also her bio dad had her first boyfriend murdered, which led to her being pregnant in some kind of trauma coma in a convent. So that’s awful too.
Please ignore the propensity for domestic terrorism and the fact her hobby is amateur monkey surgery. We can work on that.
Nahida (genshin Impact) Propaganda
Was born to take the place of her predecessor as the God of Wisdom, except the sages were like “lol nope we hate you and are gonna lock you away forever and keep you from seeing people and keep people from seeing you and clear the Akasha of knowledge of you and bully your genuine worshippers for not abandoning you in favor of our dead oshi who we’ll constantly remind you of and remind you of how you don’t live up to her and give you an inferiority complex and low self-esteem”. There’s a reason the Genshin fandom was memeing about beating the shit out of Azar leading up to the end of the Sumeru chapter! Her birthday was before she released and Hoyoverse released a sad birthday teaser and everyone was so prepared to finally free Nahida in the story and pull her in the gacha after that. She deserves so much!!
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