#pluck your heartstrings

[pluck-heartstrings]

A Princess and her guard dogs (Jester Attendants)

From my Medieval Times AU!

[scribbyizback]

reblog my art once I think nothing

reblog it twice I'm getting suspicious

[yashkonu]

I'm sorry if it's rude to ramble in your asks but that skalter fic has left such an imprint on me that I'm only now remembering and I want to thank you so much for writing it because I love every part of it, gladiia's grief fueled rage, skalter being confused and afraid of the life she found herself into, every part of her body screaming at her to do something she desperately wants to never do, choosing to let gladiia live, choosing to heal her even if superficially, honoring the dying wish of someone she never knew yet knows more intimately than anyone else, and the slightest hope that maybe just maybe she could grow into her own person free of the Seaborn's will, and that she could carry on skadi's legacy 🥹

Skalter Is Doing Her Best Really I Mean It!!!!! im really glad you liked it

[paradoxgavel]

listening to some owl city while i draw, and man. i still think "your spirit is sweet, so pull off your sheet, and give me a ghost of a smile." is such a fuckin cute lyric ;v;

[thschei]

My flower, withered between The pages two and three The once and forever bloom, gone with my sins Walk the dark path Sleep with angels Call the past for help Touch me with your love And reveal to me my true name... Oh, how I wish For soothing rain All I wish is to dream again My loving heart Lost in the dark For hope I'd give my everything...

[unknownths]

priv. muses tag drop (one of many probably)... one of these is not like the others

[starsummons]

the rest pt. 2

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]

To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.

A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.

And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.

Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.

Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.

He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.

Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.

Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.

Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.

He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.

“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.

With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.

“You okay, kid?”

The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.

“Huh.”

The kid flinched.

“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”

Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”

“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”

Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.

“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”

“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”

“I also don’t hurt kids.”

“…”

The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.

“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”

“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.

“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”

“…”

Danny waited.

“Peters.”

“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.

“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”

“All of it.”

Peters stared.

Danny shrugged and started looting.

"Y'er so fuckin' weird."

----

See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.

Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.

Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.

Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: The birth of his first child changes everything for the rough around the edges military man. A small glimpse into his life now as a father.

Word Count: 3 k

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of being pregnant, just sweetness.

Heavy eyes blinking, trying to adjust to the darkness flooding the room, Simon drifted back into consciousness. Intaking a full, deep breath, he filled lungs with the calm air around the bedroom as he came back into his body from out of sleep. Turning his head towards the nightstand besides the bed, sight searching he finally found his target. Bright red numbers glared back at him from the cheap alarm clock sitting on the top as they cut through the night to tell him the time: it was still the middle of the night.

He was no stranger to insomnia and had made peace with it long ago. It was just a part of his routine now, though these days it seemed to benefit him more than hinder as his life was changing. Another deep breath he inhaled as he rubbed his bare chest with his hand, itching a place between his pectorals; he was completely awake now. 

Turning back over, a muted smile spread across his lips as he caught your form laying next to him in the bed under the covers. Your body was faced towards him, head buried in your pillow with the covers pulled up to your chest, your hair laying haphazardly around your face like a veil. Gentle eyes watched your shoulders move ever so slightly up and down with the slow, steady pattern of your breathing. He always looked on you as if you were the only reason he knew what love was.

Because you were.

A rushing swell of emotion filled his heart as he looked upon the best fucking thing that ever had happened to him resting so peacefully. It made the hardened military man happy to know that he could create an environment where you felt safe enough to sleep so deeply, not a worry on your mind because you knew he would be there if anything happened. With careful fingers, Simon reached across the minuscule distance to tenderly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and out of your eyes.

You did not even stir as he grazed those rough fingertips across your delicate cheek; the past couple of weeks had been a whirlwind of excitement and chaos and even though he knew you wouldn’t change a second of it, it still left you exhausted. Even more careful, he leaned his face in and gave your temple a quick peck, letting his lips linger against your silky skin a moment to breath in your scent before rolling back over to get out of bed. 

Each step was strategic to be certain that you didn’t wake; you needed to rest and he wasn’t about to disrupt that. He had just made it out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him when he heard a rustling and the beginnings of a small cry coming from the other room. Quickly and silently he moved through the hall of your mid-sized flat, over to the other bedroom where the door stood slightly ajar.

“Shhh… hey now,” Simon whispered quiet words of comfort as he moved into the room and towards the crib that was situated against the far wall where a tiny bundle that lay inside was just stirring from sleep. Again his heartstrings were plucked as he peered over the railing to what lay inside, his gaze falling upon a little girl- his little girl.

Scooping the infant up into his protective arms, his skin still nice and warm from sleep, he brought her up and cradled her snugly against his bare chest. “Let’s let your mum sleep, yeah?” he smiled down at his daughter. “You’ve taken a lot out of her the past several days, luv, but don���t worry, dad’s gotcha.”

Soon it’d be time to feed the little one and Simon would have to bring her to you, but right now all he wanted was to sit with the only other being in his life that had a permanent place in his heart. Grabbing her a blanket, they both moved over towards the rocking chair where he gingerly took a seat while making sure he had her secure in his embrace. There he sat, the tiny babe curled up on his bare chest under her blanket as he rocked them both back and forth.

One large hand on her back while the other cradled under her bottom for support, Simon delicately stroked his sweet girl’s back to sooth her sad whimpers. Slow, even caresses helped her to relax in his arms and a low hum that vibrated through his chest from some tune soothed her the rest of the way down. It wasn’t long before the motion of the chair and his tender touch lulled her back into a calm and he leaned down to place a kiss to the top of that small head as she let out a quiet coo like a dove. 

“See? I told ya; dad has ya, princess,” he murmured against the few strands of hair that covered her head. 

His touch was so gentle with her, so painstakingly careful as if he were afraid that one wrong move and he would break her. Those hands had touched so much death, dealt so much too, and he worried that he could never hold something so precious within their grasp without destroying it or tainting it in some way. And each touch of his hand had to be with a heart full of love for the little girl; that was the only way.

Anxious thoughts secretly kept him up at night for months before she was born, worries that somehow he would turn out to be just like his father, that he would somehow look at this tiny thing and transform into a monster. But the minute he heard that cry as she took her first breath in this world, all those fears seemed to evaporate into thin air; he was completely smitten with her and knew he would do anything to protect her. She would want for nothing, not as long as he was around.

Moving the baby off his chest and into his hands, he cradled her so that he could look into her face. So much of himself he saw in her tiny features it nearly brought him to tears: she had his nose, a halo of wispy blonde hair, his amber eyes. As he looked down at his little girl, so small and fragile, his could feel his heart nearly burst at the seams with all the love her had for her; his heart was so full of her that he could hardly call it his own anymore. It was like someone had taken the best parts of him and the best parts of you and made a perfect doll that he would get to cherish for her whole life.

How could something as pure as this come from a part of him? It was like magic, that somehow out of all the chaos and loss and struggle he had endured over his entire life she came, like a being made out of starlight that would always help him find his way out of the darkness. She was his miracle that came without warning, that he never knew he needed until he had her.

“I can’t believe you’re mine, princess,” he whispered lovingly to her calm, sleeping face as she snuggled into his hands. “Even when your mum told me she was pregnant with ya, I couldn’ believe I played a part in making something so damn wonderful. I mean, me with a kid? It seemed such a crazy thing. No one would have believed it, especially me, but now that you’re here I wouldn’t change a damn thing. Ya deserve everythin’ in this world, luv, and I promise I will work my whole life to give it to ya.”

Wherever life took him, whatever he had to do, there would be nothing that would stop him from giving everything he had to this little slice of heaven he created here with you. This was the only thing he could ever want now and it all started when a girl with a smile that could rival the sun took a chance on a man that felt like he had died long ago. You brought him back from the brink and now he had an abundance of reasons to keep on living. 

In the middle of his chaos were you and his child and that was enough.

Picking up his daughter, her little legs scrunching up against her tummy, he brought her face to his lips and kissed her chubby cheeks before he rested her back over his heart. “I love ya, my little princess,” he said, “and I always will.”

***Over a year later***

A little chubby-cheeked girl sat on the floor of the living room playing with her toys, her wispy blonde hair tied up into mini pigtails on top of her head. It was getting late, but she couldn’t go to bed just yet…there was one more thing that waited for her to end the day. Joyfully she babbled away to herself in her own little world as she went about stacking and destroying a set of blocks until the sound of the front door opening caught her attention.

Immediately those autumn-colored eyes shot straight up as her sparcely-toothed smile lit up her entire face and spread from ear to ear for the person who had just walked in came into her view. 

“Dada, dada,” she babbled excitedly as she struggled to her roly-poly short legs to toddle towards the sound. Her tiny arms reached up towards the figure, hands clasping together open and close repeatedly as a nonverbal request for the tall, hulking man currently setting down his things before crossing the floor to come and pick her up.

“ ‘ello sweetpea,” Simon’s gruff voice greeted her while a smile to match her own hit his lips the moment he caught sight of her. Quickly he bent down and scooped the child up into his arms, holding her in his full embrace. Instantly she wrapped her own short limbs around his neck and held him with all her tiny might as if transferring all her love into him.

“Tiss, dada, tiss,” she bounced up and down in his embrace and he was more than ready to oblige, kissing those rosy, flushed cheeks over and over to make her squeal excitedly with laughter. That didn’t take much since her favorite person in the entire world was home and that made her so giddy she couldn’t stand still.  

“How’s my princess today, hmmm? Did ya run mum ragged?”

Oh boy did she have a lot to tell her father about the goings on of her day, rambling on in her limited vocabulary as Simon listened attentively, nodding along as she spoke animatedly about how she saw a dah-ug (dog) today when she went with you in the tawr (car) to the staur (store); from the moment she said her first word, which could have been nothing else than ‘dada’, she had to share her entire day with him and he was more than thrilled to hear it all every single time. 

God, the way that little girl looked at him like he set the stars made all the stressors of even the most miserable day instantly melt away. He was her whole world in more ways than one. Who knew something so small and fragile could have the most significant impact on his life? Who could have ever know that when she came that he would get such a wonderful gift to cherish?

As she finished up her tirade, his eyeline was drawn over to you as you slowly and carefully moved up off your place on the floor and onto your feet to come stand beside him and your daughter. One of those big, strong arms meant for you latched around your waist and pulled you towards him where his lips were waiting to place a kiss to your own; both of his girls safe in his protective grasp. 

This, this was home.

“Was she good today?” he asked as your mouths parted. 

There was mischief in your eyes, your mouth tightening to not give you away by spreading into a smile. “Oh she was an absolutely…terror,” you picked, laughing as you watched that pronounced scowl furrow his brow and instantly cloud his features as his eyes narrowed. No one was to talk bad about his little girl and how dare you even try to suggest that she was anything other than perfect. 

Turning back to his daughter, he situated her better upon his hip. “Mums lyin’ on ya, ain’t she?” he asked, ignoring your smirk and eye roll as he gave her another slew of kisses across her face that sent her squealing again. “I know my sweet Anna would neva be anythin’ other than a perfect princess.”

“Pincess,” Anna repeated through her giggles as she patted her chest. “Dada pincess.”

A phrase she heard so often from him throughout her short year and some change on this earth that she already recited it perfectly and Simon’s heart nearly burst at the seams every time she uttered it because she was and would always be his sweet princess, the one who came to save him, the one he would move heaven and hell for without a single qualm. 

“That’s right, ya are dad’s princess,” he smiled as he had to swallow back the lump of emotion in his throat. 

The way she could always immediately and consistently break down those walls that he had kept up for so many years was a thing of magic. There was no possible way for her to know the amount of struggling it took for him to become this gentle after all he had endured, how he had to burn himself nearly whole and rise anew from the ashes, but by God he would do it all again just for her and for you. 

Silently you watched the two of them interact, the love pouring out of Simon like a fountain, and your breath hitched as you realized how lucky you all were. He held on to that little girl the same as he always had: as if she were the most sacred thing in the whole entire world and to him in his world she was just that. Breaking you out of your thoughts, he pulled you back in for another quick kiss; there were things to get done as it was already getting late. 

“You ready for a bath?” he asked Anna and she happily nodded back.

“Baff, baff,” she repeated. 

She was probably the only kid in the world that looked forward to bath time and bed because that was the time she got to spend with the person she was always missing the most. There was only a few more days till the weekend when Simon could spend more time with her, but for now these little moments were just enough to get them both through.

The sounds of splashing and laughter wafted from the bathroom as you took a tired seat on the sofa: Simon’s low gravely, subdued chuckling being accentuated with Anna’s light, higher pitched squeals of glee. There was no better sound in the whole world than the two of them together and you prayed that no matter how old you got or how your memories faded, that the music of them would remain something locked up tight that you would always be able to recall.  

“ ‘ere she comes,” Simon called out to you as a naked baby wrapped in just a towel toddled her way over to you and jumped into your arms to tell you ‘noo nie mum’ (goodnight mum) before that burly man came after her, scooping her up and whisking her away to get dressed so that she could start to get sleepy.

Picking out a pair of pink footie pajamas with little flowers on them, he grabbed her blanket and a picture book off the shelf, making sure the lights were low before making his way with Anna in his arms to the rocking chair in the corner of her room. 

Back and forth, back and forth, he slowly moved them as he read aloud about a very very hungry caterpillar, letting her chubby fingers glide over the pages as he laid out the story just as he had done countless nights before until her little head began to bob and her eyes flutter. 

Setting the book down he held her against his chest, letting the rhythmic beating of his heart along with the rocking of their bodies in the chair to lull her into deep sleep. It seemed like only yesterday she was able to hold her in just his hands and now she was big enough to lay across almost the entirety of his chest. 

"You're growin' up so fast princess," he whispered so softly it was barely audible. "I wish I could just stop time for a bit."

It stung his heart how sad it was that time seemed to be slipping through his fingers like sand through a sieve, but in the same breath he had to remark on how wonderful and breathtaking it was to see all the best of him and you reflected in the amazing little girl she was growing in to. 

As he laid her down into her bed, he gently moved the fine strands of hair off her warm forehead to place a delicate kiss to her temple. “Sweet dreams, my sweet princess,” he whispered against her skin as her chest rose and fell at a slow pace while she drifted off into dreamland. “Remember, dad’s always here to keep ya safe.”

With quiet, easy steps he walked out of her bedroom and closed the door, another day that made it all worth waking up for. Sauntering back into the living room after having changed his clothes, he took his place beside you on the couch, pulling you into his arms and against his chest; he could always shower later, time spent with you both was far more important than all that.  

“I think I’m gettin’ the hang of this,” Simon smiled against your lips, letting them linger over the soft flesh a moment more. “We did pretty fuckin’ good with our little girl, didn’t we luv?” 

 You turned your head and held his soft gaze. "We sure did," you agreed. 

Taking his hand and placing it to the back of your head, he brought your face to his to rest your forehead against one another. "It was all because of ya that I have all this fuckin' happiness," he said with eyes closed as he breathed you in. "Ya both gave me a life I never thought I deserved."

"You deserve it all, Simon. Every once of it."

Leaning in the miniscule distance between your mouths, you met his lips with your own and he embraced them back as if to say 'thank you'. 

“Think we can do it again?” you asked, breaking the kiss gently.

Simon lowered his gaze and moved his hand to your abdomen, cupping over the small swell of your belly and giving it a loving rub. You had just barely started to show as this second little surprise still had some time in the making, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t excited to see what this next chapter would bring. Was it a little sooner than expected? Sure, but Simon knew now that there was nothing the two of you couldn’t face together or that he would do for the ones he loved. 

“Aye, I think we’ll manage just fine, luv.”

[kakujis]

ALL I WANTED WAS YOU.

and when the world treats you way too fairly... well, it's a shame i'm a dream.

synopsis: a break up is nothing, not when the two of you are sworn to be together. satoru thinks you just need a little reminder.

warnings: dark content. ageless blogs + minors DNI. afab!fem reader, sub!reader, yandere!satoru, switching povs at times, possessive behavior, dubcon, recording, dacryphilia, cheating (not on gojo), somno, praise, manipulation, gaslighting, mind break(?), begging, fingering, oral f!receiving, choking, pussy slapping, creampie, masochism (reader), tiny bit of man handling and hair pulling. he is mean AND whiny. he literally sniffs u at one point lol. you wear makeup. implied multiple rounds.

ft + wc: gojo x reader, around 5.2k

@enchantedforest-network

an: hi, so like months ago (as all my wips start) i had this idea for toxic!ex bf gojo which delved into yan gojo LOL. he is so hard to write... like wtf... so anyway this was been rotting away since september!! i think i did lose my mind just a little bit writing this ngl LMFAO. idk if i really leaned that heavily into the yan, but we are going to truck along and post this anyways. thanks for waitin'. also, thank you to dooby and sky for both proofreading and giving me some ideas to push through, @sxgars for the banner, and my brain/fingers for not giving up.

gojo satoru still remembers the day you left, eyes puffy and face streaked with makeup as you stormed out of your shared apartment. in gojo’s mind, it was fine, you’d be back. no matter how big of a fight, you always came back. 

but it’s been months now of you ignoring his calls and texts, avoiding him whenever you see him. you’ve even blocked him on some of your social media platforms since he can only access the ones you haven’t used in years. most people have told him to let it go, move on, it’s not worth it. but satoru’s heart knows what it wants and at the core of it all, it wants: you. 

he thinks you might need a little coaxing, something to help you realize you love him again. once he finds out your address, his plan is set. he spruces himself up, spritzing on the cologne of his that was your favorite, even getting suguru to stop by the flower shop near his workplace to grab you a bouquet. yes, gojo’s got it all figured out. he’ll swing by, shower you in love like he used to, and you’ll realize you missed him just as bad. 

imagine his dismay when you won’t even open the door, your voice muffled from the other side. you tell him to leave, it’s over, you don’t want to see him anymore. he begs you to open it, just give him one more chance, but you sigh, crack the door open a smidge, and tell him. 

“satoru, leave. my boyfriend’s here.” 

he thinks that word is disgusting if he’s not the one it’s referring to. maybe you’re lying, maybe it’s another ruse to get him to piss off, but when you peek behind your shoulder, giving a little smile, the kind you used to give gojo, soft, sweet, loving; he realizes you’re completely honest. 

the lump in his throat is sticky, clinging onto the walls of his neck like gum. meanwhile, his heart feels like it’s beating in his ears, a not-so-friendly reminder of his fragility. 

you turn back, eyeing the flowers, an assortment of your favorite kinds - satoru, satoru, i like these, see? - and in a moment of soft-heartedness, step out. you can’t deny the pull of your heartstrings, satoru’s endearing aura plucking at them in a solemn tune, but you’re different now. you don’t need satoru anymore.  

“look,” you start, adjusting his tie and fixing the crinkling cellophane. “maybe you could give this to someone else? they’re so pretty, someone out there would be lucky to have them. and, you’re satoru, handsome, funny, sweet. you’ll find someone else in no time!” 

but he just stares, eyes boring into you as if it feels like the wind’s been taken out of him as your words fall on deafened ears. fuck the flowers, you’re so pretty, you’re the one people are lucky to have. in a sense, he’s bewildered because there’s no way you’ve actually moved on… right? 

you sigh again, a hint of exasperation tinging your voice, “gojo, i think… this should be the last time we see each other.” you step back, hand on the door handle. to you, this is a step in the right direction. 

for him, he finds that the way you don’t use his first name has him wanting to rip his hair out from the root. 

“wait, please, i love you.” he states, finally finding his voice, feeling like his time with you is running out. his lip quivers while his heart continues to shatter with each passing second. “i’d do anything for you, you know that right?”

ah. same old satoru, the man who swore he’d take the moon from the sky if you wanted. anyone looking in would swear you were lucky, but you remember things being a little… suffocating. it was too much, too overwhelming eventually. 

you bite your lip, strengthening your hold on the handle, ready to leave. you can’t meet his gaze, knowing that if you do you might falter. “but i don’t. i don’t love you anymore.” - it’s a lie, you know it is from the little bud inside your chest blooming, breaking out past the walls of your heart, but you just… can’t. 

he shakes his head, taking a step forward. “you don’t mean that.” 

“i do, satoru!” you flinch at your own voice, taking a deep breath to calm down. “please, just leave.” you tell him one more time before you retreat back inside and slam the door. 

he waits for a few minutes, thinking that maybe he’s on one of those prank shows. you’re going to open the door, tell him it was a joke, and to come inside. except you don’t, and he’s stuck under the low flickering haze of your complex’s lights. 

gojo’s a bit stunned on the walk back home, foggy eyesight mixed with thoughts flying a mile a minute equates to a tall stumbling man with no care for those around him. he can’t even count how many people he’s bumped into, let alone the amount of sorrys he’s muttered, the now crumpled bouquet still firmly held in his hand, indicated by the whites of his knuckles. 

when he gets home, he sinks into the floor, his head wrapped around his arms before he flings the bouquet across the room. “fuck!” a picture frame of the two of you clatters to the floor, glass breaking in tiny, jagged pieces. he kept it after all, in hopes that you’d come back eventually, but now it’s clear you’re not. he doesn’t even care that he’s knocked something off a table, he’s so fucking hurt.

hurt that you’ve moved on so easily, hurt that you’re out there calling someone else ‘baby’. he can’t fucking stand it, wanting to rip out the baseboards of his home or set it all on fire. from the first day he met you, gojo’s always firmly believed you were made for him. that thought was always reaffirmed with every ‘i love you,’ that dripped from your lips into his ear every morning and evening. 

maybe it’s not the best timing, but he remembers other things as well. like each time he’s been deep inside you and your pretty mouth would hang open, eyes blown and glassy, as you gasped out his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say. or even the times you took initiative yourself, crawling under the covers to wake him up, kitten licks and sloppy kisses to his cockhead. his own eyes met yours, with a lidded call of reverence, and that was all he needed to know. 

there’s no reason to wallow, he thinks, a small reignition of flame in his gut brewing. each passing memory that trickles by is another reminder that you did love him. no, that’s not right. you do love him.

okay, he thinks, i can still fix this. you just need a little reminding is all. you love him and you’re just a little confused. maybe his mind is breaking, but he reminds himself that it’s better his mind than his heart. 

”yeah,” he mumbles, dusting himself as he gets up off the floor. “she still loves me.” 

to be honest, breaking and entering wasn’t really his thing, he never saw the appeal in it before. but, this isn't really a break in, he’s just visiting his girl. he will say though, you did make it a little too easy by keeping your key under the mat. no, you kept it easy because you knew he was coming, simple as that. 

he goes in tentatively at first, wanting to see what you’ve done with the place, nodding in approval as he scans over the rooms. you’ve done a good job, just like you did before, but he does frown when not a single one of his photos is up. you must have forgotten or maybe you’re trying to save your new boy toy some heartbreak. silently, he walks over to your bedroom door, peeking in.

his mouth quips up into a smile when he sees you. you’re pretty as you sleep, just like he remembers. you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, mouth slightly agape as your drool dribbled down into the pillow. 

“hey beautiful…” he murmurs when he reaches you, bending down to brush away a few strands of loose hair from your face. 

a little “mm,” leaves your lips as your face twists at his touch. he leans in til he’s just a hair’s breadth away, before he ghosts his lips over yours slightly. still the same old you, lips just as soft as he remembers and what little self restraint he had continues to chip away. 

the hot breath of exhales continue to mix as satoru spends his time taking in your scent. he tries his best not to whine when you pull away slightly, once again leaning further in to stay as close to you as possible. if he could get high off of it, he probably could, but the ache in his belly grows. he needs you. 

“wait a minute…” he mumbles when you try to once again turn away. “why are you always trying to run away from me?” it’s a silly question, rhetorical since you’re still locked in the deep throes of sleep. but your body seems to answer in place of your voice when your legs rub against the sheets and your chest once again heaves itself over, leaving him behind. 

he’s sad that you’ve taken away his favorite aromatic, but with your shuffling, you’ve moved the blankets down letting him get a peek of your bare skin. you’re always a sight to behold and his fingers run themselves lightly over your body before he’s pulling the blanket off you completely. 

you’ve always been a heavy sleeper, affectionately dubbed his “sleepy wife,” even though you were never married. it’s been a while since his hands burned with such intensity, running up and down your thigh and leg, even tracing along the curvature of your ass. 

his knee dips into the bed as he finally looms over you, pushing you gently onto your back, before he’s prying your thighs open with one hand. he thinks he should take his time, savor it, satoru, but you’re just so… inviting. he runs a finger across the waistband of your shorts, experimentally tugging lightly. he flickers his eyes between his hands and your face, seeking for any signs of waking as he slowly starts to expose more and more skin. 

hints and glimpses of skin are all he needs to get riled up, further than he already is, as he takes the leap and pulls your bottoms off completely. 

“oh fuck princess,” he groans when he sees your pretty pussy for the first time in months. he’s nearly salivating like a dog as he remembers just how good you taste, bending down to get perched between your thighs. 

the first kitten lick against your clit chips away at his already waning self control. the next one that delved between your folds nearly completely breaks it. but he’s missed tasting you on his buds, missed consuming what was his. take your time, satoru. his mind ticks again, and he settles back to prepare a nice lob of spit before he’s letting it fall onto your pussy. 

you shiver unconsciously at the sensation and he takes a pause, not wanting you to wake just yet. you’d probably flip out on him and he can’t have you getting mad at him just yet. 

he waits until you settle again before he’s diving back in, driving his tongue between your folds as he laps up your essence. to say he was starving was an understatement, for these past months he’s felt like he’s been dying. 

it’s intoxicating as your juices and his saliva mix to dribble down his chin, dripping onto your bed sheets below. he eats you out like it's his first real meal in months, tongue lapping as much of your essence as he can while his fingers dig deep into the plush skin of your thighs.

he shudders as he grinds his hips into your mattress, the tip of his nose running against your clit sending little shockwaves up your unconscious body. you taste just as good as he remembers, losing himself in the sweet slick of your cunt.

your eyelids finally flutter open, readjusting to the darkened light of your room, but you can't miss that familiar snowy peak of hair settled in between your thighs.

"satoru?" you breathe, meeting his lidded eyes as your hands come down to immediately push back against his forehead, but instead your fingers curl up into his locks. 

“hi,” he chimes, smiling against your pussy as he readjusts, sitting up to shoot you a wicked smile. “hi baby, good mornin’.” the tone ofhis voice is sweet, nearly identical to what it was like when you were together.

he replaces his tongue with his fingers, whining a little when he feels you clench down onto them as he starts to scissor you open. 

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hiss, but your body jerks when he rubs against a particularly sweet spot of yours. 

“i missed you. i can’t visit?” he pouts, pressing a kiss against your clit before his tongue is laving over it again as if to make a point. “did you miss me?” he asks when your eyes roll back and you tug just a bit harder on his hair. 

“no.” you grit, but you can’t stop the way your hips buck up into him. 

“you’ve always been a bad liar, angel.” he shrugs, before he’s latching onto your cunt again.

he’s eaten you out more times than either of you can count, he knows exactly how to get you there. he knows it’s just a little bit more until you fall apart. he’s back on with even more fervor, alternating between sucking on your clit to sloppily and quickly flicking his tongue against it. 

“oh fuck,” you mewl, throwing your head back and thrashing as you come undone on his fingers, pussy fluttering and toes curling. 

“see, i knew you missed me.” he grins, as he brings his fingers up to suck at the slick around them. you’re still panting as you try to close your legs, but satoru’s fast, bringing his hands back down to tear them open. “ah ah ah,” he tuts, “we’re not done til i say so, got it?”  

“sa- gojo, you need to leave.” you plead, head heavy and stomach churning at what’s just happened. you fucked up but it’s fine, you can fix this still. 

“why?” he asks, “your boyfriend gonna come home?” fine, he’ll play your little game for now. he’ll antagonize you for a bit, before he’s disgustingly sweet again, just like the good ole days. but there’s also the anger brewing within him, why the fuck won’t you just come home? 

he smirks when you pause, already knowing the answer, “don’t tell me you two aren’t living together?” 

you shake your head, “that’s none of your business, gojo.” in hindsight, after satoru, you wanted to take things slowly the next time. moving in after only a month of dating probably wasn’t the best idea. 

“why not? i’ve got a right to know what you’re up to.” he pouts as he says it, hoping your irritation will ease up. 

you scoff, narrowing your eyes, “since when?” but your attitude is nothing more than a facade, always has been. “we’re not even together anymore-“ 

“since i decided, you’re mine.” he snaps, cutting you off and leaning down into you. “i decided that years ago by the way, and i’m not gonna let some fucking random mess with us.” 

you squeak as you hear him rustle with his pants, freeing his aching cock and you hate the way your stomach flip flops when you see it. it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked let alone touched. gojo was the last person to have you writhing underneath him and if you told him, he’d have even more of a need to keep it that way. 

your tough facade is breaking, you’re falling back into your hazy, mindless, and needy ways. you love satoru, even if the relationship was toxic, even if he gave you so little breathing room. but not yet, you won’t give in just yet. 

you try to scramble back further before you’re able to twist out of his hold for just a moment. but he grabs your hair by the root, twisting and pulling you back close to him and you yelp, clawing at his hand.

“baby, you’re really testing my patience.” he hisses into your ear, before he’s shoving you back down on the bed. “god, you know i hate being mean to you. just be good for once, yeah?” 

“gojo, leave.” you try one more time, but the hands that push up against him are so weak that he can tell your body’s betraying you. not only that, but your thighs shake at the pain in your scalp and you wish he would do it again. 

“i don’t think you want me to.” he states and you hate that he’s right. you don’t want him to leave, you want him to slide into you, filling you up. “or am i wrong?” he asks, looming over you, running his pretty cockhead through your folds. “go ahead, tell me to stop.” 

you bite your lip in an effort to not gasp out a pathetic moan, squeezing your eyes shut. each run against your clit has your legs widening, almost like you’re inviting him to come in. 

“knew it,” he quips, before he’s prodding at your entrance. your eyes fly open then, breathing heavily through your nose, but you don’t try to back off letting him glide in, inch by inch. “it’s cause you love me.” 

“i don’t,” you exhale as you watch his dick disappear within you, stretching you further than his fingers did. you’re nearly breathless when he finally bottoms out, fists balling into your sheets. 

“yes, you do,” he breathes, his own breathing jagged and rushed, almost like it’s being squeezed out of him. “you always have and always will.”

gojo satoru always fucks with your psyche, one of the many reasons you decided to leave him. it wasn’t obvious, not at first and neither was it nefarious. it was silly little item mix ups, funny conversations that seemed to follow satoru’s lead, until it was a loss of freedom, like a nightingale in a cage. 

huh? no, you’re meeting them next week… yeah, you told me last night. 

but that’s not- 

it is. check your phone. 

oh, i guess it… is? 

c’mon, would i lie to you princess? now you can hang out with me all day. 

and then suddenly it was all too clear when you did get that girl’s trip out, when your friends stared at you like you were fucking insane. it wasn’t normal at all that you couldn’t do a single thing without him. your friends helped you fit the pieces together and that was enough. you were going. 

leaving that day was easy, satoru hated seeing you upset and was more than willing to give you space when needed. it always went one way: you cool off, he swoops in and dresses up his words extra nicely to make you stay. but you didn’t this time. 

it was easier to leave all your things there as well instead of trying to leave in the middle of night. you thought you could do it, away from him you’d figure things out. 

but there must have been a part of you that still wanted him to chase after you, a divergent, rogue piece that strayed too far from the board. is that why you didn’t leave the city? still a part within satoru’s web of connected streets, just waiting until you were ensnared again. 

his eyes are still as pretty, his face almost too handsome, and voice just as alluring as before. you guess that’s what this is, a predator just waiting to stick his fangs into your neck.

“you’re insane,” you gasp out, holding onto your tiniest bit of strength. 

“aw, just for you.” he smiles, before he’s rolling his hips into yours, grinding in just the way you like, just as you remember. 

with each stutter of his hips, your walls twitch around his length and body jolts in waves of pleasure. soft gasps and moans tumble off your lips and satoru buries his face into your neck, nipping little marks into your skin, almost as if he’s etching one word into it: mine. 

it hits him almost instantly, this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he remembers that stupid little nuisance. he uses his hands to push up, still ramming into you as he takes a look at your face contorted in pleasure, as you peek up at him. 

“gojo?” you mumble, trying to take into account that look in his eye, but your head is bubbly with the pleasure he’s giving you. 

even with your walls clenching down around him with each roll of his hips, his anger seeps into him like water to a sponge as he tries to block out the idea that someone else was in what was his. that they probably saw this face that you’re making and got to hear your pretty little moans. 

“where’s your fucking phone?” he hisses, snatching it off the nightstand when he finds it, illuminated by the notifications of text messages from your “boyfriend.”

you whimper, trying to grab it, but satoru holds your hands together by the wrist, strategically keeping them against your chest so you can’t move up. 

“gojo, don’t!” you plead, snapping out of your trance for a moment, but the grip on your wrist tightens and you yelp. followed next is a glare, his gaze striking you right to the core. your words die off and he goes back to looking at your phone. it’s easy to unlock, you never changed the pass code. 

his eyes scan the texts quickly and frankly, it’s fucking disgusting to read this guy call you pet names that only satoru can say. he continues to scroll, trying his best to not dig his nails deep into your skin as he takes note of every heart emoji, flirtatious interaction, and pet name from your end. 

he keeps his breathing deep and even to keep himself from blowing his lid and he has half a mind to block his number to make sure you can’t speak to him again. but suddenly he’s got a better idea, getting back at him seemed so easy. 

you look so cute underneath him, pretty pussy enveloping his cock just like it was made to do, why not show it off? especially to someone that pissed him off. 

“hey baby, can you smile for me?” he says, voice sugary sweet as he opens your camera app, but you shake your head, trying to sink further into the pillow. you’re wary of the sudden personality change, especially when he finally releases your hands. 

he pouts, “c’mon now, you’re so pretty when you smile… please?” he sighs when you continue to refuse, but continues on, angling the camera til he’s satisfied with the image. 

“god, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” he says as he zooms onto your flushed face, hands coming up to hide it, before paneling back to record down your body. he stops when he reaches where both your hips are flush together, pussy sucking in his cock right to the brim. “fuck, would you look at that? i don’t even know your name man, but how fuckin’ pretty is this?” 

you gasp when you realize what he’s doing, but before you can say anything, you feel a hand come down onto your sensitive pussy. you yelp out but his hand comes down again and you're mortified when it sounds more like a moan. “bet you didn’t know she liked that,” he goads, “she also likes this.” he says, wrapping a hand around your jugular and giving a squeeze. 

your eyes roll back as the air escapes you, muddying your sight in little black dots. your hands fall to pull at his wrist, a moot effort considering the strength difference, and he laughs. a condescending flit of noise dripping in ego. “scratch that, she fucking loves that. hey, in my defense, i’m a little rusty, it’s been a while.” 

gojo has always been one of two things, needy and arrogant. but the worst was always when the two came together, usually in his worst fits of jealousy. he’s never recorded you before, always too eager to remember to set anything up before he’s pouncing on you.

but this satoru feels different, he feels scarier, nearly dangerous, although you shake off that fear til it’s nothing more than a fleeting thought. you liked this - no he was right, you loved this. before you broke up you were always begging satoru, just a little harder, just a little meaner, please.

with another heavy squeeze as the oxygen is once again cut off from you, you feel the walls around your heart finally crumbling completely, almost like a switch is flipped on. you can’t run from nor deny the heady need that was gojo satoru, the man that knew you in and out. you flutter your lashes at him, like you always did when you wanted to tell him something. he loosens his grip on your neck, just enough so that you can speak, “you wanna say somethin’, baby?” 

“u-use me,” you mumble, voice no louder than a whisper as your eyes start to leak that familiar pretty liquid that drives him insane. you’ve missed him, missed this - whatever the fuck it was, some messed up amalgamation dressed up under the guise of love. 

“hm?” he goads, a sick smile plastered on his face because you’re finally acting how you should. “a little louder for me, princess. i can’t hear you.” 

“use me!” you sob, trying to shift your hips to get some sort of stimulation, “please, satoru, please.” 

the use of his first name has him feeling like an actual god as he switches the camera back onto him. “you heard her.” he says with a wicked grin, before ending the video and pressing send. he tosses your phone to the side, “now where were we?” 

you whine when he shifts, one elbow propping him up as his hand once again finds it’s place against your neck. your own hand resumes it’s place as well, but instead of pulling this time you press, lashes heavy with tears as you wordlessly beg satoru to claim what’s his again. 

he’s so close to you now, his snowy hair tickles your forehead and his breath mixes with yours as he finally starts to move. you choke out a sob as he ever so slowly hits all the right places and you wonder how long you actually managed to make this far. 

“this is what you wanted isn’t it, baby?” he coos, being careful to not choke you for too long, even though you almost wish he’d fuck you passed out. “just needed a little reminder that i’m all you need right?” 

you nod, hiccuping with each thrust that knocks any air you have left out of your lungs. he’s right, just the two of you is all either of you need. you think the world is melting away as satoru presses kisses against your spit ridden lips, his own groans mixing in with yours as your tongues mesh together in sloppy, messy runs. 

“and now you’re gonna cum on my cock, aren’t you?” he picks up the pace, slamming in harder, rougher, like he’s proving a point. but he’s almost always right, with each kiss of his mushroom tip against your sweet spot pulsing pleasure throughout your body. “show me how much you love me.” 

“‘m close, toru,” you sniffle, nails digging into his arm as you blink away more tears, gasping up into his mouth. “‘m so close, please.” 

“i know.” he states, pressing his forehead against yours, sticky and sweat covered, as he gazes into your glassy, hazy eyes. “come on, cum for me princess. show me who you belong to.” 

there’s something so euphoric about satoru’s words, claiming every last bit of you, that you fall apart almost instantly. your orgasm hits you hard, rippling through you as your eyes and head both roll back, your pussy clenching down on his thick cock. 

“f-fuck! cumming, toru, i’m-“ you squeal, tears running down your face freely but satoru swallows up your moans, his lips once again sealing over yours, since those belong to him too. 

that’s enough for him, a firm affirmation that you love him, and he loses control of his once precise thrusts. he pistons into you, heavy balls slapping against your skin and pounding hard as if to leave marks all up your velvet walls. you milk out his own orgasm, walls fluttering and he detaches from your lips to growl out, “you’re all fucking mine, got it?” 

you chant out “yes,” as many times you can, still riding out your own orgasm as his cum paints your walls in white, til he finally slows back down to a stuttering close. he pants as he runs his hand up to rub his thumb over your tear-ridden cheek. 

“i love you.” he mumbles and you blink up at him sleepily meeting his pretty lidded blue eyes. it’s a stark contrast to the satoru just moments ago, pounding into you like his life depended on it. 

“love you too, toru.” you whisper, running a hand over his. your head and body feel heavy, yet your mind is still floating above the clouds. he’s probably oversensitive but you can’t care, knowing that your neck is prettier now that his fingerprints are littered on it. “toru… again.” 

he laughs when he feels you start to grind your hips, sticky slick and cum dripping from your hole. he feels like he’s on cloud nine hearing you beg for him after all this time. 

“please, please, toru,” you whine, craning your neck to brush sloppy, wet kisses across his lips and jawline. “i love you, so please.” 

“course, angel,” he mumbles in between kisses, “just gimme a few minutes and i’ll give you everything you want.” 

[pluck-heartstrings]

Oh unhinged Sun, my beloved…

You’ve got a little something on your face

[rineptune]

nimble touches.

a/n: if someone can help me find that fanart of adam helping lucifer groom his wings (since it’s normal in heaven, but it’s been so long for lucifer so he’s still getting used to having his wings groomed again n all), that would be much appreciated ty <3

“mmph!”

“luci, doll, quit squirming,” you sigh.

“sorry! sorry.”

lucifer’s wings flutter ever so slightly and jolt every time you trace your fingers through his marginal coverts in search of any debris and worn-out feathers. the gesture sends a shiver up his spine; a tingling sensation pulls on his heartstrings, settling to pool on his stomach.

“honestly, how could you let it get this bad?” you ask, plucking out a piece of fabric lodged between two nimble feathers.

“i don’t know— i was just.. i kind of—.. let myself go when i fell, y’know? lilith.. she used to do it, though she couldn’t really reach the places that really needed to be groomed, but her effort was there, and her absense hit hard. and everything’s been piling up— depression’s a bitch.”

you could hear bitterness in his laugh; it’s undeniable because the fallen angel loved the first woman dearly, and you knew everyone in both heaven and hell knew that, too.

“it’s fine,” you utter.

“it’s not like i don’t have time to spare.”

he nods shallowly, doing his best to remain still, all while humming a tune that he remembered during your days in heaven together. a melody that only you two knew of.

the tune causes your heart to ache.

if only he knew how much you loved him to the stars and back.

but that was all in the past, for when you were still an esteemed seraphim.

or was it really behind you?

“really, you should groom your wings every two months; the more often, the better.”

“can’t reach it,” he replies sheepishly.

“i can see that.”

“can you, uhm— mm.. do it for me again in the future?”

you couldn’t see his face, but lucifer is grateful that you couldn’t because his face was as red as a tomato.

you shrug. “sure, why not?”

trailing your fingers in a particularly sensitive area on his wings, lucifer surprisingly let out a sound akin to a satisfied purr, back arching—reacting to your delicate touch. his wings flutter uncontrollably, and you can’t help but smile fondly.

“now we know where i should focus on.”

[moremaybank]

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

concepts

[ddarker-dreams]

The Good Ol' Days.

Yan Alhaitham x F Reader x Yan Kaveh.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships and implied kidnapping. Word count: 2.1k.

The sweeter the past, the more bitter the present.

“Seriously, this isn’t fair! Let her roll again!”

“I’m not sure what you expected from a game that revolves around chance.”

You've heard this before, you think. Not the exact verbiage, no, but the sentiment strikes a chord. Plucks at your heartstrings in a familiar melody. 

“Well, fine, let me lend her some of my money then.” 

“First, we both know that’s against the rules; and second, even if you sold your single Mondstadt property, you wouldn’t have enough to cover the charge. Your strategy of holding out in case you land on a Waypoint is as brilliant as ever.” 

The hot passion met by cool indifference that leaves you forces you into the mediator role. This position was specially formed for you, shaped in such a way that no one else could ever fit. Consequently, it adheres to your person too well, you can’t go forward or backward. You’re stuck. The more you struggle, the tighter your restraints become. 

“You…! I won once, when I got all four Waypoints. It’s a viable tactic. Right, [First]? Don’t you remember how huffy he was the night he came in last? … [First]?”

When opposing temperatures meet, condensation forms. 

“... You’re crying,” Kaveh sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, but it’s only you. “Is something wrong?” 

The better question would be what isn’t wrong. He won’t ask that, though, so you’ll never get to properly answer. You sit as still as a statue on the couch. From your display stand, you sense you’re being stared at by two sets of eyes, one distraught, the other scrutinizing. The former comes from your left and the latter from across the table. 

Kaveh’s hands cup both sides of your face. He wipes away the few wayward tears with the pad of this thumb, his eyebrows pinching together. Wordlessly, Alhaitham gets up from his cushion on the floor and takes his place by your right side. Their towering forms seal you in place. 

“You made her cry,” Kaveh accuses, his eyes narrowing. “You should’ve just let me go bankrupt for her.” 

“For someone who claims I have the emotional intelligence of a rock, you can be rather dense yourself. I sincerely doubt that has anything to do with this.” 

“Then why is she—” 

“I remember,” you somehow manage to squeeze the words out of your tight throat. Their attention returns to you. Your next words come out quietly. “That game, I mean. When you won. You had another glass of wine to celebrate, and… kept drunkenly throwing your victory in Alhaitham’s face. You slept through your alarm the next morning and missed a meeting with a high-profile client.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Kaveh nods along slowly. He’s using that gentle, soothing tone from when this nightmare began and he didn’t want to upset you further. You can tell he’s trying desperately to follow along despite not having the directions necessary.

“After that, you started a campaign to not speak to Alhaitham until he apologized, but he didn’t even realize you were ignoring him,” the sound you let out is in between a choked sob and laugh. Kaveh’s arms fall limp as if they’ve lost all strength. “He told me… ‘Lately, Kaveh is more tolerable to be around’, or something like that.” 

You hug your knees to your chest. “Since you weren’t willing to talk to Alhaitham, you’d have me relay messages. It was silly. Eventually, I got you guys to make amends. It was like pulling teeth though. Heh. Thinking about it now, I can’t help wondering how many times I dug my own grave.” 

Kaveh softly speaks your name, but Alhaitham finds words before he can.

“So that’s what this is about,” Alhaitham notes. When you first met the brilliant Scribe, you mistakenly interpreted his rationality for apathy. You know better now. If he were truly disinterested, he wouldn’t bother stringing words together, curt as they may be. “Dwelling on the past only leads to unnecessary grief.” 

Kaveh sends a halfhearted glare in Alhaitham’s direction. “What he means to say is that you shouldn’t blame yourself.” 

“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything?” You question, staring deep into Kaveh’s eyes, their color reminiscent of the burning sun setting over the desert. 

He averts his gaze and swallows thickly. “Well…” 

“What he wants to say is that yes, it wouldn’t have mattered,” Alhaitham chimes in where Kaveh is hesitant to. Such is the nature of their dynamic when you’re involved — barbed truths or coddling lies. “The future we were envisioning had already been decided.” 

“The condemned can’t condemn themselves, huh?” You chuckle mirthlessly. 

They both frown. 

“You aren’t condemned, you’re— you’re free from having to worry about those things you used to stress over. Rent, bills, deadlines, you know. The worst parts of life. You can focus on your passions without any restraints now,” Kaveh reasons. Or so he tries. 

You gnaw on your lower lip. It’s been a while since you’ve bothered arguing with either of them on the subjects that truly matter, those topics have been deemed taboo. You can complain about Kaveh’s clinginess when he’s drunk or how tight Alhaitham holds you at night, but should you try to steer the conversation toward your captivity, it’s shut down. Kaveh makes you wish you never brought it up whereas Alhaitham instills regret that you dared to try. 

They’re both bracing themselves, you can feel it in the air. Sitting and awaiting a tempest of emotions that one will try to soothe and the other wave away. 

You think about fighting then remember why you stopped, falling into this limbo of existing without living. 

You could challenge Kaveh’s weak point. Demand to know why he doesn’t do the same then, never leaving the four walls of Alhaitham’s house, committing himself wholly to drawing up blueprints. Alhaitham might make some dry comment that he wouldn’t allow Kaveh to leech off him, or maybe Kaveh would apologize, and say that he didn’t intend to upset you. He would mean it too. You’d cry, beg, scream until your throat was raw and your voice scratchy, but in Alhaitham’s own words, it wouldn’t have mattered. 

Their minds are made up. Their resolve is an unshakable foundation upon which your gaol is built. In the same way they soundproofed the house, so too are their hearts insulated from any argument that’d champion your cause. You tried and failed and tried and failed again. 

At least if you don’t try, you won’t experience failure. 

“... Alright.” 

They exchange brief looks. 

“Alright?” Kaveh parrots the word, but without matching your listless tone. “That’s— oh. Huh. Okay.” 

He mumbles the last few words to himself, as if trying to process them aloud. You can’t fault him for his confusion. 

It’s silent then, the kind that holds weight. You uncurl yourself from your protective shell. You feel like a specimen being subjected to naturalistic observation, neither researcher willing to interfere, lest it negatively influence their data’s results. There’s a lot you can get used to — you had no other choice, really — yet that never fails to make you uncomfortable in your own skin. Unwilling to endure it any longer, you quickly form an escape plan. 

“Well,” you start, earning their rapt attention, “I think I’m going to, uh, call it a night.” 

You stand up as you say this. There’s a light pressure on your wrist, chaining you in place. 

“Stay,” Alhaitham’s voice urges. Your muscles go taut, then you hear a subdued sigh. “If you don't mind.” 

Kaveh must’ve given him quite the nasty look for Alhaitham to get that close to saying please. You sit back down, almost in a trance, as if the Scribe had cast a spell. Glancing down, you realize it’s Alhaitham who grabbed your wrist. He doesn't let go when you situate yourself back into place. 

Kaveh takes his chance to tether you as well. Lithe arms encircle you, gently pulling you into him. The side of your face presses against his chest, his bare skin exuding copious amounts of heat. He smells familiar, for this scene is familiar. Desperation with a hint of citrus and spice. He cradled you a lot in the beginning, shushing your sobs and drying your tears. At first, you’d resist, flailing your limbs wildly like you were a feral cat. Inevitably, his strength and stamina outlasted yours. 

His nose brushes against the crown of your head. “I care about you more than I could ever properly convey. Whatever you’re thinking, I can take it. Er, we can take it. I’d prefer that over you blaming yourself for anything.” 

Dazedly, you nod. He goes quiet, then, preparing himself for an onslaught you can bring yourself to unleash. Seconds bleed into one after another. You hear the furious pounding of Kaveh’s heartbeat. How if you twist your body, his breath hitches in his throat. It’s nice to know that at least his body will always be honest with you where his well-meaning words fall short. 

“You’re trying to regain a semblance of control by thinking ‘had I done this, or had I not done that, it wouldn’t have ended up this way.’” 

Kaveh exhales sharply through his nose. “Alhaitham, that’s enough.” 

“Let me finish,” he continues. His fingers creep onto your chin and take your face captive. He peels you away from your position against Kaveh, who stubbornly refuses to relinquish his grasp on your torso. Alhaitham’s countenance is close to yours so as not to leave any room for you to cower away. Those analytical eyes that can pick apart the world have you in their sights. “Do you know why you’re here, [First]?” 

In the past, when you struggled with an assignment or class, the infamously disinterested Alhaitham would take it upon himself to tutor you. He was a fair yet strict teacher. On those long nights spent hunched over a messy desk, he’d have a different air about him. He stretched you. In the moment, it felt like he was demanding more than what you could provide, but upon further reflection, he just knew what limits you could be pushed to better. 

“I’d like an answer.” 

You take a deep, shaky breath. “Because you both claim to hold some sort of affection for me.” 

Kaveh would look like a kicked puppy if you said this to him. It’s Alhaitham, though, and his composure is infallible. 

“Word it however spitefully you want, you get the gist of things,” he drawls. The intensity behind his gaze is enough to make you shiver. “If nothing you’ve been able to say or do has changed our mind now, why would it have back then? It might feel good to sulk, but your logic is erroneous. You’re making yourself miserable only to see if this wallowing is more palatable than the kind you’re used to.” 

You hate when Alhaitham’s right. It’s a shame he so frequently is. 

“Can you blame me?” 

“... No,” he admits. “But this proto-nihilism is worse for your mental well-being than anything else you’ve tried so far. I’d like to nip it in the bud.” 

Your smile is thin and far from kind. “Because it makes you uncomfortable?” 

“I’ll leave that to your overactive imagination to decide.” 

He relinquishes his grip on you, leans back into the couch, and crosses his legs. That posture positively irks you. Sparks from kindling flitter throughout your being like confetti. 

“Seriously, you have no tact,” Kaveh rests his chin atop your head. “They should study you in a lab somewhere.” 

“Says the one who’s taking advantage of [First]'s emotional vulnerability to cling to her like a parasite.” 

“Hey! Don’t listen to him, [First]. He’s just being a grump. You don’t think that’s what I’m doing, right?”

“I’d like to roll again,” you adopt a sickeningly sweet tone while addressing Alhaitham. “Please.” 

“... Right? [First]?” Kaveh tries again.

Alhaitham speaks up before you can even consider entertaining the whining male behind you. “And why should I bend the rules for you?” 

You lean forward with enough momentum that you’re able to break free from Kaveh’s grasp. Newfound vigor burns inside you. Perhaps a day will come when it extinguishes, but as for now, the flame ignites anew. Hot and ready to burn. 

Your lips brush against Alhaitham’s ear. “Are you afraid of losing?” 

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, bemusement evident. The start of a smirk dances on his lips. 

“Not at all. Roll as many times as you please.” 

And so you cast the die again. 

Come what may — an unlikely win, tense truce, or total loss — you refuse to capitulate without trying.

[yandere-wishes]

ok but scaramouche would be a good pick for the balerina!reader idea u proposed

I seriously agree!! Especially if the reader isn't exactly "human" herself. It'd be really cool if she was some sort of experimental prototype from Fontaine. A precursor of sorts to Coppelia. Only she has somehow acquired sentience and thus has been cast out for being too "unpredictable".

Imagine a reader who's an automaton herself. Who can't let go of her fundamental programming no matter what. Imagine one night in the spotlights of the full moon she begins to dance. Some desolate version of Giselle.

Imagine Wanderer being sent on a mission to Fontaine by Nahida. Imagine he happens to stumble upon her. Watching her from a distance, utterly mesmerized by her elegant form and how perplexing her movements are. She's not smooth like a human, she has that mechanical tick that he's all too familiar with. A puppet on a string no different than he.

Her dance is one of sorrow. Lose and grief. It resonates with him, plucking at his heartstrings. She's just like him. abandoned in a cruel world. Left to fulfill her duty in isolation.

Wanderer likes to think that he's grown beyond believing in the benevolence of the archons. That he's better than all those foolish mortals who pray to absent deities. Yet tonight -just for tonight- he likes to think that Celestia is smiling down on him. Bestowing him with a gift for his endless years of torment.

He will have. He will never leave your side. Forever dancing as one. Two lonely marionettes tangled in the strings of fate.

Side note, I'd kind of like the reader to receive a vision after Wanderer kidnaps her. This could go two ways. Either, her love for Wanderer makes her strong enough to be worthy of a vision. Under the pretext of her "always wanting to be by his side". Or she comes to utterly loathe him and her vowing to escape him someday earns her a vision.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Like A True Flower (Aemond x Reader)

So this was a bit hard to write but I hope you guys like it. There’s a slight mention of Aegon but I think I’ll need to write a part two to get into it cause there was just too many things to write. Let me know if you will be interested in that

As the years passed and the Targaryen name went from a burning dragon fire to merely a small candle that was handed to Daenerys Targaryen, the whispers of the bastard curse never went silent.

“If my children do not sit on the throne then none of our lines shall prosper”

(Y/n) Targaryens legacy lived on from people tarnishing her, blaming her and others who admired her wits and hunger for recognition. The bastard of Daemon Targaryen that was dropped off in Kings Landing, at the time Daemon had begged his brother King Viserys to legitimize her, raise her as their own, only the Seven could have known that (y/n) would turn out to be the one to put the sword on Aemonds hand and send him off to battle that got them both killed.

(Y/n) was the lady wife of Aemond per Queen Alicents request? At first, Alicent scoffed at the babe who seemed to sense the hatred that grew around her crib, a bastard amongst royalty, it was such a scandal at the time that Viserys had even considered giving her away. The babe growing tireless and her lungs as strong as steel made her discomfort evident to everyone with well working set of ears.

“Your grace”

“Have you fed her?”

“Fed her changed her, bathe her, nothing seems to work”

Alicent had walked into her nursery for the first time since she arrived, something in her compelled her to come to the child’s aid, listening to her wailing took her back to the first year of Aegons life.

“Give her to me”

The wet nurse hesitated only for a split second before she complied with the queen's orders, gently passing that young babe to Alicent who cooed at the poor thing, she had almost turned purple from crying, “she misses her mother” Alicent considered silently, slowly she started rocking her whilst she walked towards the window, she was pregnant with her third child at the time, her belly growing big and someone’s else daughter in her arms.

“She looks beautiful I’ll give you that much little girl”

She joked to the babe as the light of the sun graced her cheeks, it always seemed to work for Aegon and as the seconds passed (y/n) 's cries lessened, and a satisfied smile grew on Alicent lips as the little lady finally found peace in her arms, slowly turning her frown to one of the most adorable yawns that tugged at Alicante heartstrings.

“All you wanted was some sunlight, like a true flower”

Alicent was in awe of the child ever since, such a true beauty, and as she grew her delightful personality took everyone by storm, to be around her was to fall for her, even as just a child little boys would bring her flowers that they plucked from some unfortunate garden, including Aegon and later Aemond.

The two brothers were close to the princess, they would compete for her attention any way they could, of course, Aegon had the advantage of having a dragon and Aemond had to stay on the ground as he watched them circle one another, he would gawk at them with envy, praying that one day Aegon will have to watch him ride his very own dragon with (y/n).

Aegon on the other side would despise (y/n) and Aemonds reading time, the young girl was gifted at the literate arts, it was almost like she would swallow any book and recite on the spot anything that she was asked about any book she had gotten her hands on, Aemond was not as intellect yet he caught fast than Aegon and was more inclined to ask intriguing questions.

You can imagine his outburst of rage when the queen announced that she was to marry his youngest brother.

“She had inherited the lustful urges of her ferocious father, at the very least we must say she was much more discreet about it”

The historians would report back when asked about it, Aegon had the lust and fire of the dragon, while Aemond was sweet, attentive to her needs and his touch was oh so soft. Besides the fact that (y/n) wanted to have a bite of sweet and spicy, she also relished the jealousy between them, fighting for a spot in her bed every night was an aphrodisiac like no other.

Even though she was married under the seven to Aemond, she would often sneak from her chambers at the hour of the wolf and warm Aegon bed or other times when the chambermaids would scurry away after listening to the loud moans of (y/n) and Aemond in any type of room that the castle had to offer.

“A little after the war of dragons began her lady in waiting- Chiara Baratheon- had reported seeing the princess sitting on the iron throne while Aegon pleased her”

Mushroom would add briefly and with a hint of disapproval. No matter what she had the blind trust of the king and the prince and the undeniable love of Queen Alicent, the gods seemed to be in her favor whilst everyone wondered how.

(Y/n) was blessed by the dark world that her entire bloodline owed everything, at nightfall when the castle grew tired (y/n) would burn her candles and open her book, coming in contact with her ancestors as she sacrificed animals or even offered her own drops of blood and whenever she could she would spill Aemonds or Aegons, if you asked her she would say that she did it out of love, to keep them safe and in power, if they climbed the throne it was only natural that she would follow.

-

“Are you sure about your choice in your gown?”

“Never been more certain of something in my life, don’t you find it flattering?”

“You would be the most comely lady in all of Westeros even with a sack”

“Then it is settled, I am sure Mother will love it as well”

(Y/n) responded light-heartedly as she snaked her arm around Aemonds, she smiled brightly up at him like she always did making his stomach turn in backflips….like she always did.

Admins was taken by his lady wife, he was forever a slave to her and he was the one who had thrown away the key of his cell, his eye would sparkle with admiration any time he would simply gaze at her, her touch brought him goosebumps and her love, oh her love, like a fire that slowly burned him from the inside, a sweet death that was worth a thousand cuts.

“Our deepest apologies, I lost track of time worrying about my bloody hair”

(Y/n) could not afford to seem raddled or scared in front of her father's hawk eye, she paraded in with Aemond linked on her arm and a bright smile of a carefree attitude.

“Mother”

She acknowledged Alicent as her mother years before she was wed to Aemond, bending down to give a kiss on the cheek to the queen that made Alicent smile brightly and turn slightly towards her.

“How are you my flower?”

“Better, the morning sickness seems to be wearing off”

“Morning sickness? Is the princess with child?”

“Indeed… forgive me you haven’t been at court for so long, should I address you as princess, sister, or good mother?”

“Princess will do”

Rhaenyra confirmed through her teeth as her hand went over Daemon which had turned into a fist. Rhaenyra was no fool yet she somewhat understood the reasoning behind the young girl’s actions, left behind and forgotten by her father, motherless by death and fatherless by choice, she had begged Daemon to demand to take her with them but Daemon felt that the bond was unable to be fixed in any way.

(Y/n) only nodded and Aemond pulled out the chair next to Queen Alicent as she always wished to sit right next to her, even Otto had learned not to question it, as the dinner went on and the exhausting speech of King Viserys who just so happened to remember that he has a family that has steadfastly trickled into the chaos that he never even attempted to fix (y/n) also had to endure the forcefully emotional toast of Rhaenyra, still the shock that came from Alicent calling her “a fine queen” was the part that compelled her to rise and take her goblet.

“I would also like to raise a toast to our king who was kind enough to take me in when I had no one and merely but a babe I will always be grateful for that and to my mother, Queen Alicent, who came to my aid and offered me the love and the kind touch of a parent that I was denied by destiny, my love and devotion for her goes beyond words, may they live on and be able to see the fruits of my marriage.”

Daemon was ready to combust from anger. “How fucking dare she?” He thought “I took her from the arms of her dead mother, I begged Viserys to give her a home and now this is how she chooses to repay me?”

As the music played and the wine flowed everyone’s shoulders seemed to relax and laughter would intertwine with the mixture of talks amongst the people that dined.

“Would you do me the honor?”

(Y/n) heard from the back of her, turning only to be met with Prince Jacaerys who was sticking his arm out of her, there was a time when (y/n) and Jacaerys had some type of connection, Jacaerys was kind to her and had even offered to teach her the art of the sword, (y/n) puffed out a breath after she took his hand, no matter how she felt about it she was aware that Alicent wanted this to pass as swiftly as possible with no type of conflict.

“You look breathtaking if that isn’t obvious”

“That is very kind of you to say, my prince”

“I remember there was a time when we did not use such formalities”

“That was a time when my intended had both eyes”

she threw back with a smile still on her lips, as they dance (y/n) might have appeared to be happy although it could not be further from the truth, as they danced around together with a turn that Jacaerys had guided she was able to see both Aegon and Aemond waiting for their moment to attack Jacaerys, the prince was too carefree as he walked in the edge of their swords and it came the time that (y/n) dipped with his one arm around her waist and his free one went up to caress her locks, that was when a sudden booming sound of Aemonds fist on the table was heard, (y/n) immediately stood up and watched Aemond raise his goblet.

“To the health of my nephews, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey each of them handsome, wise… strong”

“Aemond”

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys”

“I dare you to say that again”

“Why? T’was only a compliment, do you not think yourself strong boy?”

Jacaerys was once again the one to bring violence into the matter, what seemed to be not taken into consideration was that Aemond was now a man-grown, and quite easily with one hand, he pushed Jacaerys onto the floor. (Y/n) walked to Aemond and stood between them, her hands finding his forearms, before she could phrase anything the queen had also walked up to the prince of chaos.

“Why would you say such a thing in front of all these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs”

That was enough to send Jacaerys off again and try to free himself from the guards. The prince only got to make a few steps before Daemon stood between, it seemed like Jacaerys respected the rogue prince which left (y/n) dumbfounded, “who could respect such a buffoon?” She questioned in her mind

As Daemon turned to look at Aemond (y/n) took it upon herself and stood in front of her husband, the same smirk that Daemon had was the one that (y/n) was presented as well, her mismatched eyes reminded him so much of his mothers, “it was a shame that they had to be wasted on her” he thought.

At least he had to appreciate her ever-growing courage, though he didn’t know if he had to congratulate her or fear her, the girl put herself ahead of the man that she was wed just to prove she was just as courageous as the man she grew to hate.

“Go to your chambers, all of you”

Rhaenyra commanded but it appeared that (y/n) and Daemon had gone on a standoff, eyeballing one another like animals waiting for a slight move so the other could attack, both of them spewed fire from the eyes.

Aemond admired her, he would not dare to touch her and quite frankly he did not want to, he thoroughly enjoyed the sight of his love standing her ground against such a vile man.

“Little flower, please”

Alicent pleaded as her shaky hands found (y/n) 's upper arm and gave it a slight squeeze, (y/n) inhaled sharply although she only took a step back when Daemon diverted his focus to his lady wife, (y/n) offered a smirk to Alicent and after she gave a kiss on her cheek to calm her down, she knew that Alicent was never fond of such tension.

“Get some rest Mother, a long morrow awaits us”

The only way towards their chambers was to pass by Daemon, so step by step (y/n) and Aemond stood by his side, (y/n) halted and faced Daemon right in the eye.

“Let us solve this another day, Father”

It would have been better if she had called him the vilest of names, that name was enough for Daemon to reach for his sword and Rhaenyra to beg him to stop by pushing him back.

(Y/n)s laughter was heard as she walked away with her husband following close, the second the doors of the dining hall closed Aemond had snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her for a deep kiss to which (y/n) responded with the same passion.

“I did not know such things excited you, my love”

“How could it not? Any man would implore for an ounce of your attention after such performance”

“You always demand my attention Aemond”

“Can you blame me?”

He cheekily responded. (Y/n) only smiled and kissed him again pulling him in, she did not have much time, though a small stop to collect her prize of a very excited husband would not hurt.

“Tonight I need you in my chamber”

“Where will you do it tonight my love?”

“The simplest of cuts… right here”

She said as she let her index finger grace over the middle of his chest, she had to offer something right before the king died to make sure the will stayed spinning towards her.

“Whatever you want, my love, as long as I get my treat after”

“I could never deny myself the pleasure of you”

“Let us go before Aegon catches up to us and steals you away from me

Requests are open!