#the eye you can see GAH EMOTIONS

[10underoot2]

I thought I would have so much to say about the car accident scene. And while I could go on for a while on why it's everything I've ever wanted from a scene of this nature and why it's a beautifully acted cinematic piece, I do think the beauty of the scene lies so much in silence. Their expressions are do a fantastic job to express their emotional state so I'm just gonna call attention to a few things I won't get over anytime soon.

Imagine being Haein and seeing your husband wrecking a car window in hysteria. Imagine seeing disbelief on his face when he sees you and walks towards you. Imagine watching him unable to breathe properly (sound on and high for this scene). Imagine seeing life flood into him as soon as you touch him.

Jiwon plays such an important part here. Because Haein has NEVER seen Hyunwoo like this. He's a pretty calm nice, non-violent guy. She knows him to like mostly everyone and he rarely gets angry - he's pretty composed. But then what is this look of complete shattered pain on his face? With a mix of disbelief, bearing the heaviest heart on the planet? He's unrecognisable to her. She can't make sense of any of his actions. She's in utter shock hearing how hardly any air is making it's way into his lungs.

In his eyes is a look of crazed wilderness just tamed. He's out of his sense. Completely lost in the events that have just passed. Not believing that he can breathe. That it's okay. All is well in the world for now. She's unscathed.

'What's going on? Calm down.'

The way she asks him to calm down - touching his face - cause she just doesn't know what in the world could send him in such a frenzy to forget himself. Her asking him to calm down here is everything to me. She's really just saying I'm here okay. Calm down. Calm down, you can breathe. Tell me what happened and I can fix it.

'Even still, Are you crazy? How could you break the window with your bare hands? Look at this!'

I know it probably didn't register to him at that point. But he's hearing her being worried for him again when he thought her lost forever. Wouldn't that sound like music to his ears.

And her...god she's so worried for him. She's never seen him like this. She doesn't know what happened to make him like this. One she sees his absolutely broken bloody hand. Two she's seeing her husband absolutely crushed. She's so confused.

That is until his words hit her like a truck. I think she had an idea that he did it to save her but she didn't know he did it because he thought her dead. And that makes all the difference for her.

Also I thought it was very interesting to keep showing his injured hand clenching. I think it was a way to show how the physical pain still didn't hold a candle to his emotional turmoil. He CLENCHES that broken hand multiple times. I can't even begin to think when he actively registered the pain.

The need for constant touch to reaffirm that she indeed is there. The sitting down. The head on her hand. The heavy breathing. *Chef's kiss*

I love women comforting the man they love when he's broken. Gah! That hand on his face and hug. Her embracing him. Letting him cry all he wants. Giving him the reaffirmation he needs by placing her self as close to him as possible. Trying to tame and override his sense. The hand on the nape of his neck. The hand caressing his hair lovingly. And good god, the RINGS.

Also notice his breathing on her shoulder. He's trying to calm himself. Telling himself she's here. Hearing her say it's alright. Everything will be alright.

I'm sure they stay like this until the ambulance comes and asks them if they're hurt. Only then Haein must've gently tore him apart from her (hand on his face again ofcourse) and convinced/guided him to finally get treatment. I can just Imagine Hyunwoo completely dishevelled going, 'Huh *sniffs*......oh.......Right, my hand' and that's when the pain hits him.

Special mention to the hospital conversation when Haein asks him 'Will you sob like this if I die?' and he says truthfully, bashfully, embarrassed but without missing a beat 'Ofcourse.' He's hiding behind nothing. He truly meant to give up on himself after her.

For me this is also the night Haein starts to write her diary. Hyunwoo must've been sound asleep, amped up on painkillers and she must've had so much time to sit and admire him and write.

Gif credits: @wolha and @seawherethesunsets

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

This is insanely specific, but I love how different each of the love and deepspace guy's eyes are, not necessarily in color (they are really pretty though) but in the character, I guess is the word.

I mean, Xavier's are really soft. They don't really have much intensity, but they still have a nice depth. They're really gentle.

I think I spent a good five or ten minutes trying to peg Rafayel's. His are so emotive and really very sensual. They have this quality to them that is hard to name. Gah! I have it! Aloof. His eyes are emotive, sensual, but aloof as fuck.

And Zayne's. Good gods, Zayne's eyes. Not only am I in love with their color, but his eyes are hot-and-cold. They're so often cool and calculating. You can see a great deal of intelligence, but sometimes they're so intense. Piercing. They hold so much will. It is crazy attractive.

[turtletaubwrites]

Misty Eyes ~ Part 5

THIS FIC CONTAINS DARK CONTENT. 18+ ONLY. MDNI.

Pairings: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Fem!Reader (Past & Flashbacks)

Word Count: 3975

Misty Eyes Masterlist

Ao3 Link

Summary: Feeling good seemed out of reach, but you'd never felt safer than you do with Law. Safe enough to ask for what you want.

Author's Note: Alright friends, patience is required, but rewarded 🥰

Thank you so much @pinejayy for this delicious request!!

Rating/Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Devil Fruit User Reader, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Angst, Pet Names, Degradation, Punishment, Emotional Abuse, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Grooming, Trauma, Past Sexual Abuse, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Dubious Consent, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Bondage, Dissociation, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Kissing, Shame, Blood and Violence, Vomiting, Minor Character Death, Sparring, Childhood Memories, Chaste Childhood Kiss, Teasing, Tickling, Yandere Doflamingo, Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Hair-Pulling, Birth Control, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there!), Forced Pregnancy (Implied/Intended), Sterilization (Implied/Intended), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Soft Trafalgar D. Water Law, Other Additional Tags To Be Added, Fluff, Sexual Dysfunction, Safe words, Choking, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Multiple Orgasms, Aftercare

!!! SPOILERS !!! This story begins during the 2 year timeskip before the Punk Hazard Arc, and there will also be spoilers for the Dressrosa Arc for backstory lore

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“What do you mea–”

“Nuh uh,” Law scolded, sticking his thumb in your mouth like a hook to pull you closer by your bottom teeth. “You know I could always tell when you were lying. I know you faked it.”

You pulled his hand away from your face, frowning at his shit-eating grin. 

“I don’t know wha–”

“You little liar,” he accused, sitting up. His movement forced you to slide from straddling his waist to sitting in his lap, the feel of his still firm cock beneath you making you gasp. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, even as you scowled at him. His satisfied chuckle made you scrunch your nose, heat burning your face. 

“How could you tell,” you gave in, earning a quick kiss before he flipped you, laughing at you while he laid you on your back beneath him. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Your mouth fell open in outrage, but you couldn’t attack him while he held your fists, kissing your knuckles. 

“I’m an incredible liar,” you squirmed, his weight pinning you down. 

“See what I mean,” he taunted, your futile thrashing making you breathless. “That wasn’t believable at all.”

A frustrated huff left your lips as you struggled to punch that smirk off of his face, but he stopped talking while he kissed his way along your neck and collarbones, so you let it slide. He finally slowed, releasing your hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“Why didn’t you just mist away,” he seemed to tease, but his voice was too soft. 

“I…” you paused, about to argue until you realized that you didn’t want to answer. You clamped your eyes shut against that feeling, then opened them again to glare at him. “Don’t change the subject. How could you tell I was lying?”

Law took a moment, seeming to search for his answer, which did not appease you.

“I’m not sure,” he smirked at your disgruntled hum. “You always seemed so… cute when you lied.”

He blinked, looking down as if he hadn’t meant to say that, but you wouldn’t give him a pass just for looking adorable. 

So you bit him.

“Gah, what,” he sat up, pulling back in surprise until your teeth left his arm.

“Two things,” you snarked, propping up onto your elbows, “I want to know exactly what my tell is so I can get rid of it, then I want to hear all about how you thought I was cute back then.”

“So your tells are,” he grunted, catching your fist at the plural word, “sometimes the corner of your lip goes up just a bit–”

“It does not! That’s the first thing I trained out,” you argued, sitting up on your knees to face him. You narrowed your eyes at him while he ran his thumb over the edge of your mouth, until you sighed at his touch. 

“Maybe I just pay more attention,” he mused, voice husky as he kissed your temple. His breath moved to your neck, your need for answers melting away. Until your body reminded you of the moment.

“Uh, Law,” you coughed, pushing him away gently, “do you have a towel?”

He returned from his adjacent bathroom with a warm, damp towel, helping you clean up the mess he’d made before kissing up your stomach and chest again.

“What’s my other tell,” you interrupted, his soft touches ending as he rolled his eyes. He grabbed your hand, kissing your fingers before moving your own thumb across them. 

“You rub your thumb over your fingernails,” he reported, brow raised as if judging your performance. 

“I do that all the time,” you yanked your hand back, embarrassed that he’d read you so well. Lying was something you prided yourself on. It’s what kept you safe. 

“It’s a self-soothing behavior,” he softened, pushing the hair back from your face. “And you’re right, you’re probably a great liar. I just spent too much time watching you.”

Releasing a frustrated breath, you looked at his stupid face, and couldn’t help but smile. 

“Is this when you tell me how cute you thought I was?”

Law sucked his teeth, his bright eyes ready for a challenge, but instead, he kissed you. Unhurried lips and tongues, treasuring the taste of each other. 

“I thought you were gross,” he whispered against you, earning a hard punch to the arm. He laughed before he continued, holding your wrists again. “But then I thought you were cute, and I thought that was gross too.”

You grinned at the memory of what a grouchy kid he was. For over two years, you’d spent everyday together, bickering, sparring, and causing chaos. 

“At first, I studied you to gain an advantage during training,” he confessed with a sigh, looking away while his fingers tugged at the sheet. “I don’t know when it changed, but eventually I was watching you because I wanted to. Because you were cute.”

He teased the last word, caving in to your demands, and you rewarded him with another kiss, wrapping your arms around him. Soon hands and lips were traveling, until he laid you back against the pillows. 

“Can I make you come now, or do you have other demands?”

You rolled to the side to hide your face while your skin burned, and his pleased hum and teasing kisses along your side didn’t help. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he soothed, your breath going too slow, and too shallow. “But I would love to make you feel good.”

His voice, his words, his gentle fingers that had pulled away to give you space, all of it made you freeze. 

“What can I do to help you feel good, Y/N?”

There were so many strange thoughts in your head, most moving too fast for you to follow.

Except for one thought that felt more like an emotion, a need. You were barely conscious of it, yet it drove you forward, pulling him onto you.

Make him feel good. 

Lost again in the way he touched you. Lost in the way he breathed your name while his marked fingers smoothed along your skin. Lost in the need to please him. 

“Fu-huck,” he gasped out, moaning as your fingers wrapped around his shaft, already hard again. 

Stroking him with purpose, you lined yourself up as you rubbed his tip through the new wetness his touch had drawn. His eyes rolled back before he buried his face in your neck, leaving a sloppy kiss against your skin.

A long whine left your lips, frustration making you writhe when he pulled away. He laid on his side at the edge of the bed, panting while his eyes tried to focus on your face. 

You rolled, crawling toward him with your lip caught between your teeth, more needy sounds leaving your throat. 

“Gods, you’re too fucking good,” he rasped, catching your hands before they could reach his cock again, “but, you didn’t answer my question, Y/N. How can I make you feel good?”

Your body slumped, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before his fingers brushed across them. 

“Let me take care of you,” he pleaded, the words hot against your ear. 

All you could do was nod, body limp as he lifted you back to the pillows, propping you up as if you were one of the precious comics on his shelves. That thought made you laugh, making him narrow his eyes at you until you giggled even more. 

“Something funny,” he teased with that lovely smirk. 

Words weren’t leaving your lips, so he sucked his teeth while he watched you squirm. Your breath stilled at the touch of his fingers along your inner thighs. 

“It seemed like you enjoyed me eating you out earlier, until I started fingering you. Did I read that right?”

Your eyes went wide, pausing for a moment before your words spilled out.

“N-no, it all felt amazing! I just got overwhelmed, but you felt so good…”

He watched you closely then, and you wondered if you’d shown a tell. 

But I didn't lie… 

“Okay… Please tell me if you’re feeling overwhelmed, or if you don’t like something.”

“I will,” you promised, your voice a bit high while you tilted your head down to the side, looking up at him with a teasing smile playing on your lips. 

“How about we use a safe word,” he suggested, smoothing a hand along your arm while he ignored your attempt to distract from the topic. “Do you already have one you’d like to use?”

Your eyes were a little wide as you shook your head, but a gentle kiss on your temple slowed your breathing. 

“It should be a word that doesn’t mean much, and that we wouldn’t normally say. Anytime you’re feeling overwhelmed or want to stop, you can say it, okay,” he paused, waiting for you to nod before continuing. “How about… radish?”

“Why radish,” you snorted, your body loosening up.

“Why not,” he grinned at you. His smile was a sight you’d never get enough of. “Do you have any other ideas?”

Your lips quirked, but you agreed to the word.

“Perfect. Now, will you please tell me how to make you feel good?”

He stared at your parted lips while you froze. No words came to mind. Just tension, and a mild sense of danger. 

“It’s alright if you don’t know,” he reassured, his eyes going soft as they raked over you. “Just talk to me. Is it alright if I touch you?”

You caught yourself rubbing your thumb over your fingernails when you agreed, stopping the movement before he noticed.

What’s wrong with me?

Law’s hands and lips traveled the length of your body, pulling soft gasps and sighs from your throat. You moved into his touch, reacting, showing him how good it felt. 

“I can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he whispered, looking down at your face while he traced his fingers along your leg. Your cheeks were already burning before a breathy moan surprised you both. 

He cocked his head at you, repeating the movement. For some reason, the barest touch of his fingertips to the middle of your shin made you moan again, the ticklish sensation feeling better than you thought it should. 

“Mm, found something,” he teased, leaning closer to kiss your embarrassed face. “Do you know any other places I can touch to make you moan like that?”

“Law,” you writhed, voice breathy as his fingers danced up your body. 

“Come on, pretty. Tell me one thing that feels good. I know you can think of something.”

There was no pressure in his words, but there was heat, and the hint of a challenge. You still couldn’t think of any words, but you managed to move your head to the side, trailing your fingers along the crook of your neck. 

He hummed as his fingers replaced yours, as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Your skin’s so soft,” he purred, the hunger in his words making your toes curl. “Does it feel good when I kiss here too?”

Whining, your body went loose when he laid beside you, one of his legs resting between yours before he kissed your neck again. 

It felt so good, you could have stayed in this moment forever. The feel of his lips, tongue, facial hair, even his breath overwhelmed you. That sensitive skin sent electric shocks down to your lower back until you shook for him, his warm laughter only adding to it. 

“Thank you for showing me what you like,” he breathed against your ear. “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

Law’s praise took every thought away, everything was gone while your body reacted. Your hands fisted the sheets, your thighs tried to rub together, seeking friction, but his leg was in the way. 

“Mm, Y/N, is it alright if I finger you? You can say the word if you want me to stop, okay?”

Hesitation came back, along with anger. Anger at yourself for whatever was stopping you. For whatever was keeping you from enjoying this time with him. 

Anger at yourself for not pleasing him by giving him what he wanted.

“It’s okay, hey,” Law soothed, his thumb stroking your cheek, “we can stop here, or we can do something else. Whatever you–”

“I want to,” you choked out. Clearing your throat wasn’t enough fix the broken sound in your voice. “I don’t know why, but… me feeling good seems…”

His soft eyes warmed your skin, even though you couldn’t meet them. He waited for you.

“I keep getting nervous when it’s just me,” you murmured, keeping your eyes wide to fight the heat there. 

“Just you feeling pleasure,” he prompted, studying your face while you gulped, nodding to confirm. “You said you want to. Do you wanna try, and we can stop if you need to?”

“Mhm,” you agreed, looking up as you brushed away an unwelcome tear with the back of your hand. 

Law pressed gentle kisses across your face, wiping away another wayward tear. 

“You deserve to feel good, Y/N.” His fingers followed his pretty words, and you fought to just be here with him. So slow, so light, that tattooed hand trailed lower, until he traced around your entrance, leaning close to your ear again. “I wanna make you come so bad. Please, can I feel you come on my fingers?”

Your “yes,” came out in a whine, and you both moaned at the slide of his fingers, your drenched pussy aching for his touch. 

“Gods, you're so wet,” he panted, playing with your clit while he watched your face. “Can I–”

You interrupted his request, nodding permission before he pushed one finger, then two inside of you. His eyes never stopped scanning, and he sat up to free his other hand, caressing down your body. 

It felt so good, but there was something. You’d been able to keep memories out, but you couldn’t relax. 

“What do you need,” he checked in, his skilled fingers bringing you close, but not close enough. 

“I feel like I–” you moaned, his thumb moving over your clit while his fingers curled up to that spongy spot inside you. “I feel like I need to make you feel good.”

“Mm, you are making me feel good,” he rasped, his body seeming to relax at your confession. “I love the way you’re gripping my fingers like this. I love the little sounds you make. Watching you come would make my fucking year, Y/N.”

A laugh fell from your lips, then a moan as he pressed a little deeper.

“You don’t need it, but you have my permission to come,” he teased, his voice just a bit too real, and somehow those words released something. A tiny smirk graced his lips as you started to fall apart. 

“Gonna be a good girl, and come for me?”

“Fuck,” you breathed, the steady rhythm he’d found was building so much pressure in your core it almost hurt. 

“That’s it, you’re doing so well,” he praised, his free hand grabbing your chin to force your heavy lidded eyes to his. “You’re close, yeah? I want you to tell me exactly what you need so you can come on my fingers like a good girl. I know you can.”

“Law…”

“Can you do that for me?”

So close. So fucking close. But here was a new plateau, and all of his wonderful work was about to go to waste. Until you thought of something. 

Something that came with a pile of confusing memories and shame. Something you would have ignored, and stuffed away if you hadn’t felt so safe. 

If Law hadn’t made you feel so safe.

“Choke me, please.”

The request was almost silent, but you saw his lips part slightly. A hesitation. A mountain of self loathing threatened to roll over you.

Long, tattooed fingers encircled your throat, a necklace marked with “DEATH.” 

“Such a good girl, telling me what you want. Let me feel you– Mm, there’s my girl.”

He wrapped the perfect amount of pressure around your neck, keeping the pace with his other hand until your body started bucking, your eyes rolling white. 

It was everything you fucking needed. 

And it kept going. 

Law never stopped giving and giving, praising you while you shattered. You almost went to mist from the overwhelm, only managing to stay solid because you needed to keep coming for him. For you.

You mourned the loss of those wicked fingers choking and fucking you, but he worshipped your body again while aftershocks tore through you. 

“You’re fucking amazing,” he chuckled, laughing harder at the gibberish you replied with. He kissed and caressed you while your body came back to the room. “Can I get you anything? Water, or are you hung–”

He’d moved away slightly, but you reached out with your wobbly arms, pulling him close. He hummed at your touch, then gasped again when your hands found his cock, the heat of him making you writhe.

“Y/N, we don’t have to–”

“Please, fuck me,” you begged, sluggishly rolling onto your stomach. Looking over your shoulder at him, you got to witness the loveliest, most desperate look you’d ever seen on his face when you lifted your ass toward him. “I need your cock.”

There was no hesitation now. 

Just the whispered, “say the word if you need to,” before he was behind you, thrusting into your twitching cunt while you screamed for him. 

Tattooed hands on your hips helped him slam into you, hitting that perfect spot so fast, so hard, that you came in what felt like seconds.

“Oh fuck. Pussy feels so good, baby,” he moaned, slurring a bit before pressing your upper body into the bed. The new angle made you scream louder, clawing at the sheets. 

“You like that, Y/N,” he checked in, voice strained as he fought his need. 

“Pull my hair,” you demanded softly.

One of those hands pushed you down, his weight between your shoulder blades while he pounded into you. Frenzied thrusts rocked your body while his free hand fisted into the hair at the back of your head, finally giving you that sting you needed. 

“Do it again,” he forced through his teeth, his bruising grip making you drool onto the sheets. “Come for me, pretty. Come on my cock right fucking now.”

“Law, fuck, I’m…”

Words were gone, his quarters ringing with your breathy screams, and his heavy grunts. The slapping of wet, needy flesh nearly drowned you both out until he buried himself as deep as he could go, your toes curling while he filled you with heat. Your body milked the come out of him until you both collapsed, sweaty limbs still reaching for each other. 

“Are you okay,” he coaxed, brushing another hot tear away from your cheek. 

“I’m happy.”

Those words had left your lips many times over the past few years, but this time you didn’t have to lie. This time you let tears fall without shame, laughing as he left tickling kisses anywhere he could reach, holding you close. More laughter floated through the air while he carried you to the bathroom. You trailed your fingertips along his lines of ink, as though you were walking the paths around your new home, memorizing each lovely view. 

“You know this doesn't mean I’m gonna go easy on you, right,” Law threatened as he threw a blanket over your bare skin, wrapping himself around you. 

“You’re such an ass,” you hummed, nuzzling into his warmth. 

“You could be nicer to your captain, you know,” he quipped, his deep voice making you shiver. 

“If you’re my captain, does that make me a Heart Pirate?”

His arm tensed around you, and your mind cringed against your presumption.

Nothing’s changed. I’m still a tool, a threat, even if I am something more. Don’t fucking push–

“Only if you want to be.”

Law’s hushed offer stilled your thoughts. You couldn’t answer without seeing his face, so you twisted in his arms until you could cup his cheek, knowing that the shy smile on his face reflected your own. His eyes poured over you, until his brows creased slightly as he waited for your response. Waited to hear if you wanted to spend your life as a pirate, living on this submarine, putting yourself in danger. Waited to hear if you wanted to stay with him. 

It wasn’t a question.

“I do,” you promised with a kiss, pulling back to smirk at him, “but I’m still gonna call you an ass.”

Soon you were begging, breathless as you lost the fight, your cheeks hurting from laughing after his long fingers had stopped tickling you. Being wrapped up in each other still felt unreal. He fell asleep so fast, his light snores a comforting sound, even when you couldn’t stop the tears from staining your skin. 

You’d never felt safer. 

But memories were still there.

Doffy. 

He’ll find me. He’ll take me back. After he makes me watch him kill Law. 

He’ll probably use my hands. Just like…

You went completely limp, head lolling as your body fought the sticky memory of blood on your hands.

Part of your brain still had memories. Part of your brain berated you for not enjoying this perfect moment with Law. But most of your brain went to a strange buzzing place, unfocused eyes seeing nothing but a blur. 

When this empty space wasn’t frightening, it was relaxing, in a sick way. 

Leaving. 

Being nothing. 

Safe.

“Y/N? You okay,” he checked in, groggy voice filled with concern. 

Your limp body rolled as he shifted. A tiny part of you floated above the bed, watching, yelling at yourself to move, hating that he had to deal with this.

The rest of you was trapped in a fish tank, sinking to the bottom.

Law stayed with you. Even though you couldn’t feel, even though you couldn’t hear, you knew he was there. He was there when you returned, soothing your “sorry’s” away. Asking what you needed, bringing you water, then starting all over again as if it hadn’t happened.

Holding you close as he drifted off to sleep, and this time, you followed him. 

This time, Law pulled you from the nightmares. He reminded you where you were while he kept you from clawing at your chest. He waited until he saw your eyes stay present, then he teased you until you were his again. 

“Hurry up, or I’ll make you use the barracks bathroom,” he warned, pushing you through the door with a towel and a change of clothes. He beamed at your middle finger, and you could hear him counting down random numbers while you got ready. 

“Why don’t you just join me,” you challenged, about to turn on the water.

“You know why.”

You showered fast, even though your body twisted with need at the thought of him shoving you against the tile wall, but your mood soured when you looked in the mirror. It was disorienting to see that face on this submarine. To see that face anywhere but at Doffy’s side.

You managed to pull yourself out before you fell too deep, but this time you didn’t push it away. No hiding, no running in fear. 

Doffy lived there, behind your misty eyes. The weight of his presence hung around your shoulders like that heavy, pink coat. Your body screamed with the need to be safe, the need to be whatever he wanted you to be. His laugh echoed in your skull as he called for his “pretty doll.”

But you weren’t a doll anymore. 

I’m a Heart Pirate now, Doffy. And I’m gonna help Law kill you.

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me all the ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Heeeyyyy we made it. We completed the fic request. It's over... Lol, not! I have so much more planned for this story, but there will be a pause here while I circle back to another fic. But fret not, I'm obsessed with this story, and have already outlined some upcoming chapters!

Thank you so much for joining me! Again, I hope none of you relate to the reader's trauma, and her struggle to enjoy her own pleasure, but if you do, you're not alone 🖤 I hope you are given all the patience and love you need so that you can enjoy all the pleasure you desire.

You deserve to feel good!!

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel | @nothing-but-brass | @lovemesomefanfic846

Part 6

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[ineedhaikyu]

Inspirational Drabble

Summary: The match between Inarizaki and Karasuno is about to start! The crowd was buzzing with excitement, ready to cheer their hearts out for their favorite team. As everyone prepared themselves, one person couldn't help but torment himself. Luckily, Asahi didn't have to drown in his self-deprecating thoughts as someone became a lifeline.

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Spoilers from the manga, especially chapters 248 and 249! A lot of fluff. Inspired by the picture above!

Asahi tried his best to breathe as normal as he could. He had to stay calm, not just for his sake but for his team’s sake. All of their hard work paved their way all the way to Nationals.

Out of habit, Asahi traced the kanji of person (人) on his palm before swallowing it. It might look like a silly routine but it helped. Though for some reason, he wasn't as nervous as he usually was. They're playing against Inarizaki, one of the top favorites to win this whole thing.

Yet, here he was hoping to catch another glimpse of his opponents before the match officially started. Specifically, the girl that brought a storm of warm emotions inside his stomach. (L/N) (Y/N), Inarizaki's manager, the girl he met just yesterday but already made her way into his fast beating heart.

The eagerness to see her again began this morning when he woke up in the very shirt she gifted him. It wasn't just the fabric that kept him warm but the feelings he had for (Y/N) as well. It almost seemed to good to be true but once he replayed the conversations and read their texts from yesterday, Asahi could honestly believe that (Y/N) wasn't just his dream girl... She's the girl he wanted to be with.

But would she go for someone like him?

He hoped so and if not... Well, a guy could dream, right?

"On a different topic entirely," Suga began as everyone finished changing into their alternate uniforms. "I saw a girl carrying an Atsumu fan earlier. Is he an idol now?!"

"Actually, he pretty much is for high school volleyball. The Inarizaki team garners a different kind of popularity than Itachiyama." Coach Ukai explained. "They have a solid core of talent and a wide array of spectacular, crowd-pleaser plays. That makes them the ultimate contenders."

"We do see them getting interviewed on TV a lot too." Suga pointed out.

Asahi confirmed with a nod. "(Y/N) mentioned yesterday how they're always being interviewed by multiple reporters and journalists."

"Oh?" Suga smirked up at him. "Was this on your date yesterday?"

"N-No. We were just talking." He defended though he couldn't do anything to hide the stutter in his voice. "She even told me she once got interviewed."

"Woah, really? That's cool! I guess that's the advantage that comes with being a part of a high class powerhouse school. I mean, have you seen their cheering section? It's huge."

"And that means no one here... Not a single person in this whole crowd, thinks we have a chance."

To his and Suga's surprise, it was Daichi who voiced this sad fact. Asahi wondered if he was in an alternate dimension. Ever since last night, his friend has been wound up.

"Gah! Daichi, what's gotten into you?!" Suga shouted. "Pull it together, man!"

Asahi was just about to say something similar when he saw Daichi lips turn into a smile. His eyes gleamed with determination as he said, "Now I'm fired up!"

The two third-years sighed in relief, knowing they had nothing to worry about as their captain was back to normal.

"It's about time you snapped back to yourself, Daichi." Suga commented.

Asahi nodded in agreement. "Yeah. You've been awfully quiet since last night. Meek, even."

"H-Hey! I-I was focusing."

~

The moment Daichi opened the doors to the main arena everyone was blown away at the sheer intensity the crowd produced. The lights of the gym shined like mini suns above his head. The gleam of the laminated floor looked untouched, almost spotless. It was enticing, begging to be played on.

Then there was the crowd. Asahi can easily see their supporters standing behind their signature black banner, sporting their signature orange colors. It was a welcoming sight.

The warm reassuring feeling quickly left his body when he looked at Inarizaki's section. They had triple the amount of fans Karasuno had, not to mention they even had cheerleaders and a marching band. It almost made Shiratorizawa cheer section tiny in comparison.

Asahi clenched his fist tightly and took another deep breath to calm down his nerves. Though the Inarizaki's marching band wasn't helping his case at all.

Suddenly, the crowd cheered loudly and Asahi took this as a sign that their opponents have made their appearance. Which means-

(Y/N) walked next to Inarizaki's coach, looking unbothered by the amount of fans cheering for her team. The smile on her face was enough to calm his nerves from her intimidating teammates. Even from the other side of the court, his eyes met with her (E/C) ones. The connection was instant as they smiled at one another.

"Aran!!"

"Atsumu!!"

"Osamu!!"

"Okay." DU-DUM! "Let's go." Daichi's voice could barely be heard over the marching band's drums.

So he tried again. "I said, let's-" WAAAA!!

This time it was the cheerleaders' collective cheering.

Asahi watched as Daichi grew frustrated with the crowd's interference. So much so that the captain yelled from the top of his lungs, "LET'S!! GO!!"

"Yeah!!"

~

Official Warm-Ups

(Y/N) felt her heart lurch against her chest when she saw Asahi again. She felt a bit silly with how happy Karasuno's ace makes her, especially when they spoke to each other just a few minutes ago.

She shook those thoughts from her head. Now was not the time to daydream about Asahi.

'Focus! Your team needs you!' Thought her brain. 'Don’t get distracted!'

'But Asahi's so cute. He’s such a gentle giant.' Her heart argued. 'Omg, his biceps look amazing! Just imagine having those strong arms wrapped around you and having him lean down to kiss-'

'STOP! Now is NOT the time to think about that! At least, wait till AFTER the match is over.' Her brain tried to reason.

'Fine…' Her heart relented to her brain’s demand but it only took one more glance before crumbling once again. 'Those broad shoulders though… Asahi is literally hot guy status.'

“(Y/N)!”

“Yes, Coach?”

“It’s the twins' turn to warm-up and you know how superstitious they are. You know what to do, right?"

"Yes, sir."

She caught the ball with ease and made her way to where Atsumu and Osamu were waiting for her.

Ever since the Miya twins joined the club, they began a silly little routine of her tossing the ball for Atsumu to set to his brother. The first time was during the twins' first appearance playing for Inarizaki. Usually, the coach or assistant coach would do the tosses during warm-ups, but at the time they were occupied which led her to do the toss for them. Atsumu was perfect with his set and Osamu effortlessly spiked the ball. From then on, they demanded, Atsumu more than Osamu, for her to toss for them in future warm-ups, claiming she had the lucky touch.

(Y/N) smiled to herself at the memory. She didn't believe in luck but she went along with it. For two years, she tossed them the ball in each official warm-up and now that this was her last year with them... Well, they weren't going to change tradition now.

"You guys ready?" She asked them, tossing the volleyball up and down.

"Heck yeah!" Atsumu answered excitedly. He held up his hand for her to high-five. "No way are we going to lose."

(Y/N) laughed as her hand connected with his. She turned her attention on Osamu, the small pout on his lips was enough to know what was on his mind.

"The faster we win the match, the quicker we can go out to eat. I'll even treat you to dessert. How does that sound, 'Samu?"

With the promise of food, the twin straightened up and high-fived her. His eyes sparkled with joy. "Let's show these guys what Nationals is all about."

With both twins looking eager to start, (Y/N) stepped back and stood next to the net as the twins also went to their positions. Without meaning to, she looked over at Karasuno's players and internally smirked when all eyes were waiting to see the twins in action.

After counting to three, (Y/N) tossed the ball in a beautiful arch as it made its way to Atsumu's waiting hands. Not surprisingly, the ball was set perfectly for Osamu to spike strongly.

"Nice kill!" She told them, her chest swelling with pride.

"One more!" Osamu called out.

(Y/N) raised a brow and was about to ask why when she saw both twins sharing a look.

"Alright, last one!"

Tossing the ball one more time, (Y/N) watched as the twins jumped in unison and her smile grew when she witnessed Osamu displaying his setting skills for Atsumu to spike.

"Ha! Ha! Super body and soul switch time delayed spike!"

'If only they could find a better name for that move...'

Despite the move they just did wasn't a delayed spike, it still made the crowd go crazy, screaming several compliments.

After the twins waved to their fans, they made their way to her.

"How was that, (Y/N)-senpai?! It looked cool, didn't it?!" Atsumu bombarded, looking for her praise more than anything (as if the crowd's praises weren't enough for him).

"Amazing as always, Miyas!" She complimented them as she clapped both of their shoulders before making them lean down to her level. "What's your reason for doing that move?"

Atsumu looked smug while Osamu answered her. "We have to prove the other team what we're all about."

"Uh-huh..." (Y/N) raised a brow looking unconvinced with his answer. "Now give me the real reason."

The twins looked at each other and (Y/N) wondered if twin telepathy was real because a few seconds later Atsumu sighed before replying, "To intimidate that crush of yours. He kept starin' at you when you weren't lookin'. It's creepy."

Osamu lifted his head for a second before crouching back down. "He's still starin'."

"Oh my god, you guys. I appreciate you caring for me but focus on what's important, okay? Right now, in your eyes, Asahi is your opponent so just view him as that and nothing more."

And with that, (Y/N) gave the twins another pat on their shoulders before making her way to the bench. Unbeknownst to her, the twins didn't take her advice to heart. Instead, they focused on something else.

"Did ya notice how she's on a first name basis with that guy, 'Tsumu?"

The twin nodded as he placed his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowing on Karasuno's #3 from across the net. "They literally met yesterday, 'Samu! How did that samurai guy make an impression on our manager?!"

Osamu shrugged his shoulders because the answer was a mystery to him as well. "You're just jealous that (Y/N) likes him."

Atsumu whipped his head to glare at his brother. "AM NOT!"

"Are too."

"Am not!"

Osamu sighed, not wanting to continue this argument. "Whatever. We still have to beat them."

"Without question. If he can't beat us then he has no right to even talk to (Y/N)-senpai." Atsumu declared.

"Agreed."

The twins took one more look at Karasuno's ace, making a mental note to pay special attention on the guy… and crush him.

~

National Spring Volleyball Tournament, Round 2

Hyogo Prefecture Rep: Inarizaki High School (3rd Appearance Straight, 31 Appearances Overall)

Versus

Miyagi Prefecture Rep: Karasuno High School (1st Appearance in 5 Years, 9th Appearance Overall)

~

It was time. Both teams stood on either side of the court, every member held a sense of seriousness as they tried to make themselves as imposing as possible.

At the sound of the referee's whistle, every emotion seemed to jump to another level. Asahi's hands fidgeted anxiously. Call it paranoia but he felt like he was wearing a large target. It looked like everyone wearing a black Inarizaki uniform were glaring daggers at him. He hoped it was just his imagination.

Then there was (Y/N) by the sidelines. Even from afar, he could see the excitement in her eyes. She looked so angelic with that smile of hers. He felt a wave of relief when he recalled how much support she gave him the day before.

"I’m not saying you should just get over yourself because we all have experienced some level of negative emotion in our lives, right? And it’s not as easy as turning a page in a book. Trust me I know. So believe me when I say this, it’s okay to express those feelings. Maybe one day, you’ll find solace in someone."

Asahi felt his spirits lifted when he thought about (Y/N)'s words. Solace... She didn't know it but that was what she became to him. Her words gave her comfort and alleviated all the strangling roots of anxiety that surrounded him. He smiled to himself at the memory. It was enough to fall for her all over again.

After mentally counting to three, both members of the Karasuno and Inarizaki team bowed down to each other and yelled, "Here's to a good game!"

Asahi's feet moved automatically to where the coaches were standing. His heart was still beating like crazy. His nerves were still going crazy because in a few seconds they were about to play a high caliber team that were the people's favorite to win this whole thing.

That's when Takeda-sensei came to the rescue and provided the much needed words of wisdom. Asahi listened as his head coach spoke, "You know... Two months ago, during the qualifier finals, no one thought we could beat Shiratorizawa either." A bright smile accompanied as he continued, "What say we surprise everyone again!"

"YEAH!!" They shouted in unison with Hinata and Nishinoya jumping with joy.

It was time for the announcer's to present to the crowd the starting lineup. Asahi took a deep breath as he waited for his name to be announced. Not wanting to look any more nervous that he actually is (and to hide away his fidgety hands), Asahi crossed his arms and tried to look brave.

Physically, he looked intimidating. Mentally... Well, it went something like this:

'Daichi's right. Nobody's paying any attention to us. I don't have to be nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. I'm not nervous at all. Nobody's looking at me. That means I effectively don't even exist!'

With a furrowed brow, Asahi quickly shook his head at the thought.

'Wait, no. Now that I think about it, that was going too far. Heck, it was pretty sad!'

And of course his friends noticed how quiet he became.

"Asahi. Get over here." Daichi called, his voice full of authority and masking the slight anxiety he had. He didn't need his ace player to go down the rabbit hole before the match even started.

Suga couldn't help but laugh as he said, "I don't have to be a mind reader to know there's something laughable on your mind right now."

Daichi narrowed his eyes at Asahi. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it! That's an order!"

It was scary how frightening Daichi can get.

"I-I wasn't thinking a-anything bad." He defended through stutters. "At least... Not anymore."

Before Daichi could reprimand his ace, Suga cuts in with a slap on his shoulder and said, "Hey, don't make it obvious but (Y/N)-san has her eyes on you."

All the thoughts from a moment ago disappeared instantly at the idea of his crush paying attention to him. It gave him a new sense of motivation to play the best that he could. Volleyball was something he was good at, like really good, and (Y/N) took notice of his skills from yesterday's match. If he could impress her even more then maybe... He has a chance.

"Let's win this match and then win some more!" Asahi declared as he made his way to his assigned position. His aura was slowly but surely glowing with confidence.

Daichi and Suga sighed in relief as their ace finally looked mentally ready to play.

"Tell me the truth, Suga, was (Y/N)-san actually looking at Asahi when he wasn't looking?" Daichi asked his vice-captain.

Suga grinned. "Come on, Daichi. Just like I don't have to be a mind reader with Asahi, I don't need to be a psychic with (Y/N)-san. Those two are perfect for each other. Just you wait, a confession is going to happen in the future. Mark my words."

Daichi could only sigh at his friend's words but he didn't say anything against Suga's prediction. Even he could see the effects the pretty Inarizaki manager has on his gentle giant of an ace. He wouldn't be surprised if they kept in touch after all of this is over.

~

Little did anyone know, this wasn't going to be the last day for Inarizaki's manager to be a part of their lives, especially in Asahi's.

~

Next: Chapter Four

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

CAKE FOR A DEAD MAN (I)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER II

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 4.6k

WARNINGS: Angst, problems with food & image, mentions of stalking, unwanted gifts, death, violence, gore, blood, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Color, as most would say, is one of the best aspects of sight. It allows such a myriad of emotions to be expressed—even felt. Red reminds us of passion; navy for elegance and a certain mystique. Not only seen but processed on such a deeper level. Refractions of light that explode into the retina, rod and cone cells that send signals to the brain to help detect that phenomenon like a gift of evolution. 

But when you can’t see any of that—color—who’s to explain what the red of the roses actually looks like above a deep shade of gray? That navy blue looks even darker, too. Closer to black. Light purple becomes the same hue as the curtains your mother hangs on the windows, but you can’t tell if that’s really purple or not. How can it be anything other than slate? People tell you it is…at least, those who’ve already met their partners. Their soulmates. 

But there’s little hope for you on that front, really.

You wave to the photographer, calling out a broken Russian goodbye as he smiles warmly at you, nodding his head in your direction before watching you walk out of the studio room’s doors. A large gaggle of other finely-clad women surrounds you on the way to the changing rooms. 

Even with three-and-a-half years of living in this northern country, your mastery of the native language starts and ends with simple pleasantries.

The modeling agency was packed today and you still had so much to do. You stuff down your internal list of scheduled fittings, meetings, and more booked photoshoots that extend into the chilled evening of Yekaterinburg, Russia. There was just so little time. 

Gray hallways and white overhead lights meet your eyes between blinks, potted plants boring and drab. If you could see the shades in between the leaves you’d know you would find them beautiful, but like this…well, they’re just sad.

You shake your head and shuffle to the back of the group, throwing tiny smiles to the kind, and stunning, women who you’ve had little real conversation with. One kisses you on the cheek and pats your shoulder, and you laugh brightly before pulling to the rear, face heating.

“The bastard is finally dead!” The familiar voice causes you to freeze with one heeled foot in the air—fingers picking at the strap of your silk dress absentmindedly before it, too, stills. They were always forcing you into silk with feathered accent pieces of intricate detail. Like a bird, or, Seraph, more precisely. 

Blinking in surprise, you turn around just in time to lock onto the drained shades that make up Alyona Arkadyevna Solovyova before she grips your shoulders harshly. 

Her collarbone-length hair swishes heavily, but it’s not as violent as the smile on her sharp face. 

“Finally, little Солнышко! This is perfect news. The bastard is dead!” Alyona’s English is very good, and of course, it would be—when she was younger she dreamed of being an English teacher. That was before she realized she was just about the most attractive woman of her generation. The harsh Russian accent still bleeds through.

You laugh and grip her long, pale, arms; seeing her in a blouse and pencil skirt as you tilt your head, asking, “Christ, Alyona, give me a warning next time. If I rip anything I’m in deep shit.” 

“Gah,” Your friend waves a hand and releases you, tiny eyes creasing, “forget about that—did you not hear me the first time? My father, Seraph, listen to me! He is finally dead! It happened just this morning but I only got word ten minutes ago.” She laughs, throwing her hands up, and you hide your amused exasperation, limbs tired but it won’t stop you from appreciating your friend’s enthusiasm. Alyona squeals, “A train hit him!”

You cringe internally, face pulling taunt. “Oh,” your chest sputters as you clear your throat, “that’s, uh, that’s…great?”

“Of course it is!” Hands capture your cheeks, squishing as you worry about the state of your makeup. Alyona speaks brightly, “We need to celebrate, Солнышко. Come.”

Before you can protest she’s dragging you away from the other women and the direction of the changing rooms, all had stopped and were listening intently from behind; nosey. Everyone in the Allurement Modeling Agency building, AMA for short, just had that way about them—your business was their business and vice versa. 

And Alyona had no problem airing out her grievances with her estranged father to the choir. She lived for drama.

“Aly,” You huff a soft breath at her and her bobbing hair. She said it was blonde and you had no other option but to believe her. Not yellow-blonde, she had specified. Ice-blonde. “I can’t go out in company property. Plus, I have a photoshoot for Chanel in under an hour. The photographer needs me to be ready.”

But it seems your concerns fall on deaf ears and you can’t help but chuckle and grin at your friend's lack of care about work. She herself was a model, but the entire company halted when she said it should. 

You were truly surprised they hadn’t fired her yet. 

“And I’m sure Chanel has an absolutely hideous dress for you, my Seraph.” Ashen eyes turn back to stare at you, and once she realizes you wouldn’t fight her, her grip releases. “Some Медовик will do you good before the vultures close in, yes? Let us hope they don’t shackle you to those damning lace lingerie sets over cake.” 

Your head tilts with a short sigh, and you walk beside the woman in your clacking heels. The sound of the authentic honey cake seemed to itself to coat your insides with a lust for it—dripping layers of plush gray sponge with pale cream. Your mouth waters. 

“I’m only eating half a piece.” You settle slowly, though you hate your own words as your stomach rolls with hunger. Some time outside will do you good, anyway. Perhaps you’ll learn to photosynthesize like a plant. “I still have to be able to fit into those fabric contraptions, you know.”

Alyona squeals and loops her arm in yours easily, bright teeth in a grin like a cat. Ever one to run into objects and lacking a general ability to walk in a straight line, the support from Alyona was much appreciated. Her help with lending an arm went far, especially for you. 

Your heart warms with soft care.

“I’ll take it! We can split one.” When you both make it to the front of the building, having grabbed your jackets and purses on the way there, you come to three familiar faces while chatting with Alyona about both of your upcoming bookings. 

“I was under the impression you had the day filled,” Petya speaks, heavy accent like stone. The clean-shaven man in his late thirties was built and wearing a dark suit, the tallest out of the other two—Aleksandr and Yefim—who both wear similar outfits. They were resting in the front seating area of AMA as they’d been doing for weeks already, waiting for you to come and go like escorts.

Well, bodyguards, to be more precise. Yours.

You smile politely to them while Yefim sends one back with his boyish charm and dimples. “On break. We’re off to get some Medovik down the street. I can pay for you if you’d want a piece.” 

“Of course, the three will have to tag along, hm?” Alyona huffs, staring blandly as you both slow to a stop near the large white entrance, colored as if it was Heaven’s gates. Your friend had said coloring around this building was rare. Whites and grays. Green chairs, apparently. “I’m just ecstatic.” 

Petya didn’t like you, and, you assumed, Aleksandr didn’t either. With the ladder, his sharp face was always too blank to tell; body tight and unwelcoming with weasel-like eyes. Petya was simpler, blatantly more outward with his distaste.

“Not a smart idea. This isn’t a game to play, девушка.” Alyona’s face tightens, and you swiftly placate her with a squeeze to her bicep. You level Petya with a tilt of your head and a calm look. 

“What harm could a bite to eat do? It won’t cost you your life.” You chuckle smoothly. “Let me get you all something—it’s nearly noon, I’m sure you’re all hungry.”

“I could eat,” Yefim eases in, hands resting in his pockets as he stares at you. His accent was calmer than the others, and his face softer. Out of all of them, you liked him best. 

Your eyes rest on Yefim with a thankful expression. He smirks and nods. Aleksandr, as always, says nothing beyond a small scoff and a look around the room with shifting feet. 

When the tallest of the group does nothing to push back his sneer and heavy glare, you hum under your breath as you expect the words before they rush from his sharp mouth.

“I will have to speak to your mother about this.” The accent makes him sound so stiff—like a statue. A man built up of gravel and snow; concrete in his veins instead of blood. 

“Oh, yes,” Alyona mutters, “the Consul herself.” 

Your nose moves in a sigh, but you ease the situation with a simple, “Do whatever you need to, Petya. I know it’s your job and I’m thankful regardless, but we’ll be back in less than an hour. It’s no big deal.” You pause, plastering on an innocent look. “We’re hungry.”

 For whatever reason you always envisioned Petya with dark eyes—blacks more deep than the clothes they put Alyona in to off-set your given whites when you two are fitted together. But the man’s eyes were so painfully light it made you not want to stare into them. 

Petya grunts and continues to glare, working his jaw. After a moment he lets off a large huff and shakes his head in disapproval.

“Half-an-hour. No more.” 

Alyona manhandles you out the door quickly, growling, “I do not know how you can stand this, Seraph. Bullshit, all of it.” 

“It’s only until everything goes back to normal,” you reason, hearing three sets of footsteps behind you as the guards follow into the chilled air of Yekaterinburg. There was no reason to take a car, everything was within walking distance of one another in this dense city populated by over one million people. “My mother’s worried is all. I’m not going to make their lives harder while they’re only doing what they’re told to do.” 

Light eyes dart to your face, your friend’s hand guiding you along the concrete with a dim concern. “I do not like all of this, Солнышко. It’s been months…Are the gifts still coming?”

Your expression tightens, lips going stiff. Alyona notices and changes the subject for now.

“Ah, but what am I doing—I’m ruining the celebration! Come, come, we will talk about my engagement to Nikifor while we eat.” 

Nikifor, her soulmate. The one who brought her color and music with his performance at a nightclub two years ago; the only thing standing in the way of their marriage was Alyona’s strict father. Something about the man wanting someone with higher standing than a musician for his famous daughter. 

“How is he?” You ask, blinking away the thought of finally being able to see color for the first time and how that must feel. A piece of you would always be envious of that. 

Alyona must have blushed because she always tilts her nose lower when she does. You smile and chuckle under your breath. 

“Wonderful,” is all she offers, but the giddy grin on her lips is knowledge enough. 

You both make it to the small bakery at the end of the long street, heels clicking and cheeks chilled. People had turned to look at you, gaping at the two models still in their expensive clothes and attempting to take pictures on their phones. All were strong-armed by the three men close behind you who bark things in Russian. 

Alyona opens the door of the bakery for you and you accidentally knock your shoulder into the frame, giving a sheepish smile before carefully walking to your regular corner table. Your tall friend goes to order while you take your seat with a sigh, Petya, Aleksandr, and Yefim all shuffling in and sending glances to you; looking over the interior with sharp and calculating eyes. 

It’s like they think the sky’s going to fall, you surmise, twitching your lips their way. They’ve been here before with me, do they still not trust it?

Back when things had been less serious they’d allowed you to go where you wished with them—parks, for walks, stores—now it was only work and home. As if you didn’t already feel so trapped. 

“You boys can pick what you want,” you call to them softly. “My treat.”

“On the job,” is all Petya grunts before he takes his normal seat at the table closest to the door; everything in his bright sight. Your hand lightly tightens on the table, but you keep your expression placid. 

You’d tried to get him to lighten up, Aleksandr too, but the two weren’t as open to you as Yefim. There was a blatant distrust of Westerners here, even if you had given up your citizenship to move where your mother works in the Consulate building of this very city. 

While she was still employed by the American government, that didn’t stand in any sense with you. But on top of you being a famous model, your mother was well-known, regardless, and that ultimately fell back on you. 

Yefim’s gray eyes flickered to a case of Bird Milk Cake with a hidden longing as he grasped the back of his chair and slid into it—floorboards creaking loudly. You notice and chuckle under your breath, cheeks heating at the sight as the man’s gaze moves to you and blinks in surprise. He quickly averts his gaze and clears his throat, fixing the collar of his dress shirt.

You’d buy him a piece before you left; maybe kiss his cheek just to see him go all blurry-eyed. He certainly was adorable.

“The baker’s boy is staring again,” Alyona’s voice snaps into your head, and you peer at your friend’s face, startled. 

“What?” You ask as a plate is set in the middle of the table holding a single piece of Medovik. Your mouth fills with saliva, fingers immediately moving like a starved dog to grab a fork and cut into the layers; you shovel it into your mouth before you hiss to pace yourself. 

You chew slowly, swallow, and give Alyona a confused look.

She slides you an unimpressed frown. “The boy. At the front.”

“He’s probably gaping at you,” you take another bite, rubbing at your cheek with your free hand as people walking by the front window peek in with wide eyes; your men glare and move their chairs as the ground squeaks again. 

Your friend scoffs and mutters in Russian, shaking her head. Her hand waves quickly, barking, “Look!” 

Rolling your eyes with a small smile, you look over and dab your face with a napkin before you get locked into a staring match with the dark eyes of the man up-front. 

He wears an apron, head a mess of curls, and his upper arms stained with flour. You blink and pause, wondering if…perhaps…A pause, a sickly hope in your chest…but nothing happens and the contact is broken when he ducks his head before looking at the counter. 

Gritting your teeth, you focus back on your cake and shove aside the sinking feeling in your chest. 

Idiot, you criticize yourself. Now why would you think that would work?

“Nothing, then?” Alyona clicks her tongue and takes up her own fork. “Do not fret, we will find him eventually, Seraph.”

“It’s not like I would know.” The air goes a temperature warmer—bodies stilling. 

While soulmate colorblindness was simply the reality of life, diagnosed colorblindness was still a curse that couldn’t be solved. If you ever saw your soulmate…you wouldn’t even know it. 

All because of that stupid accident. 

You act unbothered by the shift in the conversation and sigh. “You said you wanted to talk about your engagement,” your words remind the woman and she sets off into a tangent about the dress and the location after a moment of quiet concern. A church, she explained, the big one down the road where they’ll be a few days after the civil ceremony and the outer city venue. 

Alyona is only twenty, but you know that it’s incredibly common here to get married this early. Listening, you offer input here and there, but as it always does, the topic falls back to you as you eat the slice of cake dedicated to a dead man. 

Your knife-driven problem. 

The gifts. 

Already, you begin feeling uncomfortable.

“Aly,” you try to grumble, resisting the urge to eat the entire piece of Медовик as you put your utensil down. Your hand jerks over the table and you glare down at it in annoyance, ignoring the tensed nerves. “It’s not important—”

“How many more pieces of jewelry has he sent, hm? Letters?” The woman shivers and rubs at her arms. “It is horrendous behavior. Total fuck-up. And the fact that no one has caught him? Gah!”  

Your spine straightens itself, eyes sliding to the people gawking outside the window and seeing the multiple faces, shuffling bodies that pile next to each other like sardines in a can. 

“I just don’t want to think about it, okay?” You shake your head, turning away as a pit forms in your gut; realizing the fragility of your psyche when you think about the fact that anyone outside could be the source of your problem. The stalker. “If it’s just the gifts I can deal with them—the letters I never even read. If I ignore it they’ll stop eventually. All of this can be one big bad dream.” 

Your hand continues to shake on the table, not exactly in your realm of control just as the inability to walk in a straight line is. It was no wonder why they never let you do runway shows, you think sarcastically. You’d be stuck in a photographer’s room for the rest of your career.

Alyona pushes a strand of her hair out of her face. 

“Seraph…you know it does not work like that.” Of course you did, but asking for help was never your strong suit. And your mother had already given you three well-trained bodyguards to escort you to and from work—that was more than enough protection. 

When you think of the expensive parcels that had been dropped at AMA’s front desk you had to restrain the honey cake coming back up your gullet. All of them had been expensive; pieces you could afford on a model's pension but still wildly elegant to even touch much less own in multitude. Gold bracelets inlay with black opal and sapphire, necklaces with Tanzanite, and rings of ruby, your mother had told you this when you had brought them to her off of only seeing washed-out tones on your part. 

You never showed anyone the letters; they lived in a lockbox under the bed in your apartment. Concerningly, lately the ‘presents’ had been losing the plot. Random bits of glass and shiny items—a slow deterioration but somehow even more scary. 

Even the older women at the front desk were softening the usual sneers they wore when you walked in every day, no longer chiding you in Russian they know you can’t understand. The way they seemed pitiful rubbed you the wrong way.

You pull your jacket closer to you and rub a hand slowly along your thigh in a soothing gesture. Aly pulls her brows in. 

“I want to help you, little Солнышко, but I don’t think this is something I can fix with my womanly charms.” Your lips release a snort, tiny chuckles hitting the air. 

Alyona joins you before silence once again lapses. 

“...Do you feel alright?” Your friend asks honestly. Worry was plain on her face. 

You smile, but your lungs tighten in your chest while your heart acts like a dancer and lightly skips beats. “By next month,” your hand shakes over your thigh, “all of this will be in the past. No one could keep this up forever. I just have to…wait it out. It’s only the gifts, I can live with that—jewelry isn’t hurting anybody except his wallet.” 

The woman narrows her eyes at you and frowns, but it’s not long before she goes back to her half of the Медовик and takes a bite with a moan of enjoyment. You rarely lied, so you supposed she had no trouble believing you.

If only you could fraud yourself like that.

“Quite a wealthy bastard, though, no?” Alyona slyly pokes fun and you blink quickly. 

“Aly!” 

“I am just saying!” 

You press your hand to your lips to hide your loud laugh, Yefim looking over with a certain airiness to his expression before Aleksandr jerks his shoulder to face him back forward. The two glare at each other as Petya stares violently at the front door—daring those outside to try and come in and ask for a picture. 

While you hadn’t come back to this bakery in a while, the three men always seemed to pick the exact same table; the one with the perfect view of everything going on near the door. While it was a small distance away, it allowed for quick action in any direction. 

You blink away as the wooden boards under the bodyguards’ table creak again, loud enough to cause Alyona to frown in that direction. Petya sends an annoyed look down and scowls. 

“How do you know he’s not just stealing them,” you bring back the conversation, smirking. “You know? Maybe he’s a,” your voice lowers an octave in fake secrecy and Aly’s eyes roll, amused, “jewel thief.”

“God above,” the woman huffs. “That would be the twist.”

The both of you joked and picked fun, but that half an hour went past quickly, and soon it was time to get back to the agency so you could change again. The photographer couldn’t take pictures of air and play it off as you with a smile and a nervous stutter. 

As you stand you stare long at the cases of baked goods, licking the remnants of cream off your lips 

“We can buy another, Seraph,” Aly suggests, fixing her coat. You shake your head immediately. 

“No, no, I’ve already had enough sugar. I had two muffins for breakfast. Chocolate.” Your face pulls into a cringe at the words. “Cheat day.” 

Alyona’s lips go tighter, but she says nothing as her hair is puffed out of her face. She out of everyone knows how demanding modeling can be—your entire life is dictated by two things: calories, and appointments. 

You turn to Yefim with his wavy hair and his soft, dimpled, smile; casual eyes. Not your soulmate, based on his lack of reaction the first time you had met, but in that time you’d grown a tiny crush on the man, admittingly. He was kind and treated you with respect. Capable and reliable—how could you ask for more than that? 

“Yefim?” Your voice calls out, a smile on your lips. The man looks over and blinks in surprise. He clears his throat, stuttering as he shifts in his seat. The wood tilts slightly under him and he steadies himself on the edge of the table.

“Да, Ma’am?” 

Restraining a giggle, you cock your head as Alyona snorts.

“Do you want a slice of Bird Milk Cake?” Petya slides you a blank look and Aleksandr taps his fingers to the table. You poke fun, “For when you’re on break, of course.” 

Yefim’s eyes sparkle in their colorless state, a handsome smile taking his lips back along his face. He makes a move to stand up, floorboards squealing loudly as weight is lessened. 

“I would be in your debt—”

The world explodes into a slate-gray blaze of heat and hellfire. 

Your body is thrown back before you can even begin to understand that you’re in danger, panic completely bypassed for a total blank sensation of confusion. Spine slapping into the glass of the window, your form is hurled by a vast boom out of the bakery entirely before it slams to the concrete multiple feet away. 

You slide, rolling in a mess of limbs and ripped silk. For a good moment, you have no idea what just transpired, confusedly lifting your head from the ground and blinking below you as everything rings. Your hand grips the side of your head, the thick liquid seeping in between your fingers as you peel it back and look with shaky vision. 

Blackened blood is coated along your palm, slipping along your wrist as you tilt your hand up in horrified uncertainty. 

Everything comes back in a millisecond of screaming and running feet; like a switch being flipped. You snap your head back to what remains of the bakery as blood slides down your temple. 

“A-Alyona?!” Heels sliding, you stand but stumble back down just as quickly, hands slapping against the ground as you raggedly cough more, chest burning from the force at which you’d been thrown. 

What the hell had just happened? An explosion? 

There was little left of the bakery beside the front door, smoke billowing out of the broken windows as gray flames spark with the familiar sound of burning material—a sharp burn is taken into your nostrils. 

Dragging an arm forward, you grasp something warm and wet in an attempt to get up again. You look to the side and immediately scream at what you see.

Yefim’s upper body was completely fine besides the burns and the lack of his hair, the peeling flesh…it was the absence of the entire lower body that struck you with waves of horror. You slam a hand to your lips and wail, slipping back on kicking legs as tears well in your tear ducts.

Guts were leaking over the concrete, and the dark, gaping, wound spread a fast puddle out around the sputtering that made his chest look like it was moving. Eyes flutter, lashes flapping quickly. 

He looked confused, and that was perhaps the worst part of it. 

Yefim died only half a man, his entrails pooling out of his ribcage, only twenty seconds after you’d asked him if he wanted a piece of cake. Your fingers hide the loud sobs as you stare into this blank expression, hand shaking so bad that it hits your nose. 

“I…I,” you stutter, shapes and flashes rushing back and forth at the sides of your vision. Pressure holds at your left shoulder. 

“Seraph!” The sentence falls off into feminine Russian cursing and screaming, a grip shaking you back and forth, urging you to listen. 

There are wails and the roar of cars, but you don’t have to be given a speech to know the truth about the toll as the fire burns hotter and the blood runs faster. Petya, Aleksandr, and Yefim are dead. They had been sitting on top of something that had triggered when Yefim had released weight from it. 

The creaky floorboards. 

“Seraph!” Alyona tries again, grabbing you under the shoulders and dragging you away from the corpse as bystanders’ phones flash with pictures being taken. There’s just so much screaming. “Seraph, please, we need to move! The fire is spreading!”

They had been sitting right on top of it. But…but they always sat there…they…they were always…

In the corner of your eye, a dark phantom looms across the street as the first sirens of the police cars race down the road; a burning silhouette of black mist and ashen smoke.

As the bakery burns and the corpse of Yefim grows cold, it slips away into the forming crowd.

TAGS:

@anna-banana27, @random-thot-generator, @midwesternwitchery, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @halfmoth-halfman, @alpineswinter, @blingblong55, @kra-rino4ka, @cryingnotcrying, @lxne20, @not-eclipse, @theecoffeebean, @phoenixhalliwell, @h3ll-guttz, @tiinkerbell, @genjilvr, @azush4rp, @escapefromrealitysm, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @finnigansxz, @cowboybaby2, @delaynew, @doggydale, @zapphir, @littlemisstrouble, @xxtmoe, @grizzersmamma, @andreas-river, @blogdddxx, @jade-jax, @emthegrace, @lovebugmsyd, @makariaspresence, @noisyprofessorhoundsalad-blog, @scythebot, @blueoorchid, @caramlizedtomatos, @strawberymilk,@frazie99, @homicidal-slvt, @develised, @crispyhusband, @cathnoneofyourbusiness, @ghostslittlegf, @generalcloudtraveler,  @azsteris, @rvjaa, @creminemisinthehizzyforshizzboy, @comsyki

[cozy-writes-things]

GNreader x edgar

Reader comforts edgar cuz he had a nightmare

Thanks for the request! Adorable!! I’ll be writing any requests I receive in the order I got them, so come right up, get ur comfort right off the press! Fresh and hot!

P.S.: I wrote this on my phone and I feel like the formatting is poopy caca so I’m sorry T_T

Electric Nightmares

Bzzt.

The sound tickled your eardrums and slowly nudged you to consciousness.

Bzzt.

In your half-awake, half-dream state, you hear it again, a small, crunchy noise you can’t quite place. Is it some sort of insect? A fly, perhaps? A wasp?

Bzzzzzt.

No, this is different. It sounds electric, almost. A robot fly? A robot wasp? Your mind fills with images of robotic legs and glass wings, buzzing, over and over, with tingles of static caressing your nose. The sound continues, periodically droning on, for what felt like ages. You nuzzle deeper into your pillow, drowning out the sound, and attempt to slip further into slumber.

Bzzzt- “Gah-!”

That made you jump awake.

Edgar’s shrill shout seemed to bounce off of every electrical current flowing through your apartment, or at least, it felt like it, as it suddenly ripped you away from your tranquil dreams of robotic insects and made way for an instant wave of worry and confusion. You could hear him in the living room, still buzzing and chirping out garbled sounds, and what could only be described as little gasps for air, in his nonexistent lungs. The logistics of that could be debated later, but for now, you haphazardly stumble out of bed, blinking away the dizziness and make your way towards the worried beeps of your little computer.

Your eyes had to adjust to the new light levels of the living room as you approached him, his screen flashing in a disarray of colors. This seemed to indicate he was under some extreme emotions or stress, you’ve discovered.

“Edgar? Are you okay? What happened?”

Your voice croaked out through drowsiness, seemingly tearing him away from whatever he had been thinking, as his rapidly blinking screen froze on a deep red. The room was now basked in a faint crimson hue, one that could only reflect whatever inner battle he seemed to be waging in that instant.

“Go back to bed,” he muttered, almost bitterly, with pain in his voice. It cracked and warbled with an emotion you hadn’t quite heard before.

It certainly worried you.

Your happy little pinecone computer never sounded like this. The usual, flirty lilt in his voice seemed to have vanished, replaced with a dark, husky sound that caused little bumps to blossom over your skin.

“No. Not until you tell me what happened. Are you okay?”

You shuffle towards him, the cold floors against your bare feet sending even more shivers down the nape of your neck as you sit in the little office chair in front of your partner. You cradle the sides of his casing, gently trailing your fingers up and down, hoping he can feel it, as you try to soothe him in any way you can.

He made a rough grunt at this.

“I just…”

The room falls into an uneasy silence.

The red on his screen fades to orange, slowly, then yellow, until it gently morphs into the green you’re used to. A pixelated frown blinks to life upon the glass.

“I had a nightmare.”

….a nightmare? He could dream? You feel quite silly that this isn’t something you’ve thought to ask him before, seeing as you weren’t even sure he slept at all. You were well aware that he powered down, went into “sleep mode”, but had it really been sleeping this whole time? Did he have other dreams? What were they made of? How often were they nightmares?

“A nightmare?” You parroted, almost in disbelief, searching your brain for something, anything to say.

He only hummed in response, and the casing your hand caressed grew slightly warmer, as if he were leaning into your touch in the only way he could display.

“I…”

His synthesized speech trilled out, lowly.

“I… hurt… you,” he sounded so pitiful, his voice whimpering out, and you could only imagine that if he were able, long tear stains would adorn the convex surface of the glass.

You sigh.

“Oh, Edgar, you could never hurt me,” you lean in to give him a small peck, something soft, to ease his mind of whatever had happened, and remind him you’re there and that you’re okay.

His eternal frown seemed to warp at the edges.

“‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up…”

God his voice sounded so melancholic it almost brought you to tears seeing and hearing him like this.

You couldn’t stand it.

You gently wrapped your arms around his monitor and pressed your cheek against the warm, staticy screen and just embraced him, cradling him in your arms, hoping more than anything he can feel the emotions your soul seemed to be radiating for him in that moment.

“Edgar, don’t apologize. I get nightmares, too… I’m sorry. I’m here for you, I’m okay, and you could never, ever hurt me. If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

He grew warm and his fans whirred to life, sending little buzzing vibrations down your arms and into your chest.

“I love you,” he whispered, as if he was almost afraid to let the words slip; let the atmosphere take them and send them to your ears.

“I know you do. And I love you, too. So much. You know that, right?”

You move, pressing your nose against his glass and look deep into the many pixels glistening along his screen, feeling the static wrap around your nose and plant a faint kiss of sensation there. Sometimes, you wonder if he can control it.

“Of course I do. You mean…”

He stills for a moment, basking in the sensation of your embrace, letting it engulf him and swallow his electric heart entirely. He could see the love in your eyes, your words, your actions… it sent him over the moon and seemed to drown out any fears he felt before. They melted away against your warmth.

“…the world to me.”

You pull back and look at him fully, a smile on your face. Even now, late into the hours of the night, still wrapped in lethargy, he can make your heart swell with so much love it almost frightens you.

“You want me to take you in there,” you nod to your bedroom, “and let you lay with me for the rest of the night?”

He chuckles. Your face, illuminated by his soft green light, shot sparks of pure energy through him. In moments like these, it feels as though he had tapped into every power grid on earth and was being fed its electricity ten times over. You have some sort of uncanny, inhuman effect on him. Are you truly an angel brought to life? He may never know.

“Would I ever say no to that? Be honest.”

And, your gentle laughter felt like the purest form of love had finally found him after all these years of searching.

“You’re right… cmon, let’s go to bed.”

[cookierunauprompts]

Okay, okay hear me out.

This is an idea me and onesies thought of..

So you can go where ever direction you want with this prompt

But I give you

Shadow milk with hypnotism

Anon how does it feel to have the biggest brain I've ever seen?/pos

Requested Prompts #3 - 💓

You had gotten separated from your friends when the beast had escaped, the blast of energy knocking you a decent way out of the fairy kingdom and into Beast Yeast... Thank God that White Lily Cookie had managed to seal up the rift before the other four could get out beforehand. One gigantic cookie to fight against was enough after all. It was rather unfortunate that you got blasted into a rather dark part of the forest, you felt like there were eyes watching your every single movement. You wandered around, a chill seeping into your dough as you remembered Shadow Milk Cookie's words before you all got blasted away... " Ready or not, here I come! Ehe he he ha ha hah~!" Was this all like a game to the giant beast? The thought terrified you, you should hide, and quick. So you looked around for a hiding place, any kind would be good so long as it was a good one. Was it just you, or could you hear his laughter echoing through the trees? it was totally just you, right? Apparently the universe loves to prove you wrong, seeing as two giant cookie hands slam down onto the ground at both your sides as a humongous shadow is cast over you. " Peek-a-boo~ I see you~!" You could hear Shadow Milk Cookie almost mockingly coo as you turned around and fell on your backside out of fear. How'd he find you so quickly?! " Oh my dear, there's no need to be scared!" He chuckled, scooping you up in one giant hand. If there was a chance you could escape unscathed before, then it was certainly gone by now. " After all, you've got me here!" " Wh-what do you want from me?!" You stammer out, voice catching in your throat one he stared down at you with those absolutely humongous heterochromatic blue eyes of his. You felt like a new piece of candy in a candy store being examined by at kid to determine if it's worth eating or not. The overgrown jester sighed, putting a hand to his head in an exasperated manner. " Oh, woe is me! The rare moment I find kindness in my heart to bestow upon another cookie, they be ever so rude about it!" He dramatically sulked, you almost felt bad for the guy... almost. " But! Such a small little treat like you shouldn't be wandering the forests of Beast-Yeast alone! No no no no no! That wouldn't do at all!" He proclaimed, suddenly a lot more cheerful that it almost gave your emotional whiplash. With his other hand, he tilted your head up so you'd be staring right into his vibrant gaze. Was it just you, or were his eyes swirling? " So just trust in me alone, and I'll get you somewhere safe~" You can feel something worming it's way into your head. Why shouldn't you trust Shadow Milk Cookie? Maybe he's just a huge softie under all that malice and mischief. No, no, he definitely tried to crumble your friends earlier. But he's so strong, and you're just a weak little cookie who can barely fight off the monsters of Beast-Yeast on their own- Wait. " Gah! No! Get out.... of my head!" You squirmed away from his grasp, shutting your eyes as you buried your face into his hand. You refused to be mind controlled by this... this giant clown! You could hear him laughing again, a sound that haunted your ears as you felt him tenderly stroke your back in a way that made your shiver. " Eheh he heh~ It's really cute when you try to resist," He purred, flipping you onto your back with a simple maneuver. Then, to your absolute shock, he lent down and kissed your forehead...? " I like you, Reader Cookie!" He chirped. What.... what even was that?! He kissed you!? That- what- That's certainly not a normal thing to happen! Your guard had been lowered into the ground and buried, allowing Shadow Milk Cookie to worm his way into your mind without any issues whatsoever. Your vision felt hazy, what were you doing again? Oh, right, staring into Shadow Milk Cookie's eyes... They really were pretty eyes, so many pretty shades of blue swirling around in them. But before that? ... Does it really matter? Shadow Milk laughed from above, his voice echoing all around the forest.

" There we go~! That wasn't so hard now, wasn't it Little Star?" He cooed, stroking your face gently with his hand. It was an almost tender motion, you weren't really sure what to make of it. " Now, why don't we go and find your friends? I'm sure that they're dying to reunite with you!" You slowly nodded, right, your friends… Your friends? You… don't quite remember their faces, but it'll come to you eventually… you hope. " Eheh he he he he~! One down, five to go~" Shadow milk cackled to himself as he began walking through the forests of Beast-Yeast with you in hand.

[moodymisty]

hi misty!! first of all, love your blog. your writing makes long shifts at work a bit more bearable (those guilliman fics had me giggling and kicking my feet fr)

second of all, if you're taking requests i'd love to see anything with dorn getting all confused after catching feelings. he's SO repressed and i can't imagine he'd even know what to do with all those fuzzy feelings, especially with a darling who's soft and sweet. gah i love that awkward stoic man

have a lovely day 💕💕

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: This sounds super cute, and I'm a MASSIVE whore for Dorn so here's a snippet. I hope you enjoy :3

Relationships: Pre-relationship Rogal Dorn/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not really any of note other than primarch emotional constipation

Dorn looks over the ornate golden railing, hands gripping it softly. Out of his opulent armor, his warm Inwit made clothing contrasts against his pale skin, as a chill Terran wind blows through the open halls. It's no where near as cold as what he's used to, and he pays it no mind as it whips through his short blonde hair.

"You're staring."

Dorn turns his upper body to see Guilliman along with two of his lieutenants; He'd heard the men coming, watching as his Ultramarines stand beside him at a respectable distance. Guilliman casts his gaze downward to follow where Dorn has had his own for a significant while now, and watches. His lieutenants step away respectfully, and allow the primarchs a degree of privacy.

A slew of Salamanders use the massive open area to train, many of them in armor not powered to use as dead weight. Dorn has no interest in them and Guilliman knows this well; He turns his gaze to the sidelines, where a remembrancer sits parchment in lap. You're smiling, he can see from here, watching as the Salamanders prove their strength and a few entertain you with elaborate swordmanship.

Guilliman looks away for a moment and back to Dorn, who still has his eyes firmly locked on you. Of course you remain none the wiser to the fact that not one but two primarchs are watching you, filling your parchment with words and sketches.

Guilliman sighs.

"I know she is not indebted to the Salamanders. I am sure she would join the Phalanx, if you asked."

Dorn finally turns away and looks to him, his brow furrowed.

"And why do you assume I need her services?" Guilliman can't contain a second sigh.

"My friend, it's because you look lovesick. I'm trying to give you an opportunity to actually speak to her without another chapter surrounding her." Before Dorn has a chance to scowl at Guilliman for his upfront and honest speech he turns to his lieutenant, and points downward to you.

"Go get her and bring her to us."

Dorn noticeably furrows his brow at the Ultramarines, but doesn’t say anything until the men leave. Once they do, he looks to Guilliman.

“Why did you do that.”

Dorn sounds blunt and unintelligent for a moment, but Guilliman knows that’s not the case; It's that Dorn is pissed at him.

“I am giving you a push. Now do something so none of us have to suffer any longer." Guilliman leaves, and Dorn casts his gaze back down to the massive arena. He notices Guilliman's Ultramarines walk up to you and presumably demand you follow them, and the confusion it quickly brings you.

A Salamander comes up and presumably inquires as to why you're needed elsewhere, but relents when you agree to leave. You follow the two Ultramarines until you're no longer in view, and it changes the feeling in Dorn's chest.

Why does he feel that way? Like there's a knot in his throat?

He clears it and moves along, ignoring it and wearing the same stalwart expression he always has as you and the two Ultramarines approach.

Your expression changes in surprise at the sight of him; He supposes because you were expecting Guilliman. The Ultramarines, somewhat confused as well by the entirety of this situation, consider their duty done and leave to return to their genefather's side.

"Lord Dorn, hello." You smile lightly, holding your parchments in your hands. "Do you have need of me?"

He does, but he has absolutely no idea how to say it. Guilliman cornered him by doing this, and Dorn hates it.

He decides to inquire about what Guilliman had said earlier; He wants to hear it come from you rather than Guilliman's.

"Am I correct in hearing that you are not indebted to the Salamanders?" You nod, smile still on your face. Dorn finds it warm, a far cry from the stalwart attitude that is part of him and resides in all of his gene-sons.

“The Salamanders were the first to request I join them to document their battles when I showed interest, but I never pledged loyalty to only them."

Dorn looks away for a moment, and leaves you cast in a form of nervousness as he looks down at the Salamanders still below. You hesitently speak up, voice questioning and soft. He's used to shouting and deep bellowing voices; Yours is so gentle and sweet.

"Is, is there there anything I can do?"

You awkwardly adjust in your shoes, wondering what else the stalwart primarch of the Imperial Fists could possibly want from you. When your eyes suddenly leave his and look behind him, he already knows why.

"He was going to ask if you would serve the Imperial Fists as their remembrancer, provided you are available."

Guilliman returns, and the look Dorn gives him is made of hellfire. Dorn hopes Guilliman knows he will pay no shortage for this later.

Thankfully however you perk up noticeably, and Dorn successfully manages to hide any and all of his feeling relieved by it. Your smile is wide enough to round your cheek, and he's surprised by how warm and inviting it feels.

"Oh, I would be honored to serve your legion! If you would have me, Lord Dorn?"

Dorn catches Guilliman flinch slightly at your words, though he fails to understand why. He's too furious at the other primarch to bother even looking at him for too long anyways.

Instead of thanking you, welcoming you, or any other things Dorn was thinking of saying, instead the first thing that falls from his mouth is an order.

"Follow me, I will bring you to my men."

Your face morphs into surprise as Dorn suddenly turns away from you, and you struggle to keep up- as his singular stride is many of your own. Your papers rustle in your arms, as you race down the gilded hall.

Guilliman however simply watches you and him both depart, before sighing and rubbing his temple.

[bridgertonandchocolate]

Top Polin moments from part 1. I can't put them in any particular order because I really LOVED ALL of them. Truly. But there is obviously a top favorite. If it's not everyone's #1 I don't know what you've been watching.

Carriage. Need we say more?! This is the top Polin moment of part 1. The way I finished the season around 6:30 in the morning and then proceeded to watch the carriage scene over and over for about an hour straight before I had to leave for work. They told us we weren't ready and they were right. I'm still not ready and I must have watched it hundreds of times. The rollercoaster of emotions from the anger and desperation to the despair to pure love and laughing together. Not to mention I think this has to be one of the longest Bridgerton love scenes (besides Simon and Daphne's honeymoon probably). It was the hottest make-out sesh followed by some special finger time I've ever seen. The way that you know they're both gonna be kinky too. The hair tugging and smirk. The AFTERCARE. Good god. I can't. It's fantastic. The way you can see in Colin's eyes that he's like "she's my wife now and forever" before he climbs out of the carriage. He's like maybe I should ask her lol. This will be my favorite scene of Bridgerton forever until part 2 comes out probably and then it might get topped.

Now in no particular order:

2. Cake. I really want to know what was going through Luke Newton's mind when he was watching her lick icing off her fingers. Because...the boy was hungry. You can't tell me he wasn't thinking about just how her mouth tastes but other parts too. You know he was. Also throwback to season 1 when Marina told Pen babies basically came from cake lol. And then Colin bought the same cake just to taste what she tasted and he LICKED HIS FINGER just like her and then looked at her. Like...bro be more subtle please.

3. "Shall we gallop on?" The two of them laughing together is something I absolutely ADORE about them. Colin and his dad jokes. I don't find dad jokes funny unless they're coming from Colin Bridgerton's mouth and obviously so does Pen. Even in the market when they giggle about their first meeting. PLEASE. Giving me life. The other two couples were too serious for me. This couple DGAF about propriety. Obviously.

4. Drawing Room Lesson and Cutting of the Hand. From beginning to end. Another rollercoaster of emotion. The fact that Pen no longer feels comfortable in Bridgerton House (like bitch you belong there don't even) to Colin's hand on her back. Had to rewind that a few times in the initial watch. And then he's setting the scene pretending they're at a ball and telling her to flirt with him. The eyes. A confession that's not really a confession from Pen. Colin rushing her out of the room. Her reading the journals (naughty Pen) and then we know what happens. He literally holds her hand. You cannot convince me he doesn't curve his fingers against hers to pull her in.

5. First Kiss. Perfect in every way. It's a moment I loved in the book and it was nearly identical and I loved seeing it play out on screen. The quick peck. The going back in for seconds and thirds. The hand lingering on her face. The way you can see he's fundamentally changed. GAH!

6. The Dream. I want to know what other dreams Colin's had because it seems like there was definitely more than one because he said he prefers sleep to being awake so....there's definitely more than what we were graced with. The way he pushed her up against the door frame. Good Lord Colin.

Honorable mentions: literally every other Polin moment. The savior moment with the balloon. The first lesson while promenading and then again in the market when she thinks she can't be taught and he's like "you already know what you're doing babe." Post kiss under the willow tree. Colin's conversation with Mama Bridgerton even though Pen wasn't super involved. It was magnificent. Colin getting interrupted by Debling when he wants to ask Pen if she feels the same way and he just can't help but stare at her lips and totally forget what he came there to do. Pen literally looked at him scared that he was about to eat her face. And then him sad and depressed watching them dance like he just lost his wife.

[heizlut]

So This is Love

cw: angst/misunderstandings

tags: fem!reader from natlan, kaeya being kaeya, angst/comfort/smut, diluc is heavily mentioned, venti and jean are also mentioned, mostly proofread

a/n: don't ask how many words this is, it's a lot😅

m!list here

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

Kaeya would do anything for you, why couldn't you just see that? He didn't understand since he had been so attentive towards you, even after that one night where he witnessed something from outside the window of Angel's Share that made him feel too many emotions at once. Was he just not enough for you? Did you move on? Even worse, did you truly choose Diluc? These thoughts consume him constantly and tear at his aching heart.

So, in this moment, Kaeya is standing there soaked from the pouring rain in front of your door as you look up at him with a mix of confusion and concern. His gaze full of turmoil as he stares down into your eyes, seemingly unfazed by how the rain continues to pelt his tanned skin and drench him completely. "Please... Will you please listen to me?", his voice is soft but with so much desperation and heartache.

But how did you two even get to this point? Had things always been this way? No, they hadn't. And Kaeya was more determined than ever to have you by his side.

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Being in Mondstadt was certainly quite the culture shock for you since you had come from Natlan. Mondstadt was a far-cry from the scorching heat and endless wars that consumed your nation. Everything here was so peaceful and freeing. There seemed to be no archon ruling over the place finding joy in calling for constant war between its people. In fact, the archon seemed largely absent here but many people still held faith for him.

It was...nice. You felt like you could breathe without smelling the stench of death and fire. You certainly turned heads when you arrived here since you did not look like the people who resided in this nation nor did you dress like them. Maybe if you had gone to Sumeru instead, less heads would have turned at your appearance, but you wanted to get as far from Natlan as possible.

The guards at the gates leading in Mondstadt City looked at you warily while you looked at them with curiosity. "Who are you and what is your purpose here?", one of the guards spoke. You blink a couple of times as your brain processes the language difference and makes the switch to their tongue, "I'm here for refuge." The two men cast sideways glances at each other before looking back at you, "And how long do you plan on staying?" You frowned slightly as you thought, "For as long as I can."

The guards looked skeptical of you and one narrowed their eyes at you as he spoke, "Come with me. I'll escort you to the headquarters of the Knights of Favonius where you can meet with the Acting Grandmaster." Just as he turned around to lead you, Venti seemed to pop out of nowhere with a bright smile and curious eyes, "Who's this?" The guard jumped, startled by Venti's sudden appearance and put a hand to his chest to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest from the innocent scare, "Gah!" He clicked his tongue, "If it isn't Venti the bard... We have someone new here and I was going to escort them to the Knights Headquarters."

You looked at Venti curiously, trying to figure out if he was someone you could trust. It was a habit you didn't think you would be rid of anytime soon. But he only smiled happily at you then back at the guard, "Let me take her. I have nothing else going on right now." The guard hesitated for a moment, then released a deep, defeated sigh, "Fine. I shouldn't leave my post anyways." Venti's bright smile seemed to get even brighter at his relentence. He looked back to you, "Come and follow me!" You only shrugged and began to follow after him.

Walking through the main city beside Venti, you felt many eyes on you. Some wary of you while others just looked on in curiosity. Maybe they would relax if you had walked with a small smile on your face, but alas, resting bitch face was your default unless you were among close friends (which you could count on only one hand). Venti chattered away endlessly as you followed him as if he had known you for ages, but you hardly listened. The only thing that caught your attention was the towered statue of the nations archon. You paused as Venti continued to speak, until he shortly noticed you had stopped, "Huh? Is something wrong?" Your eyes go from the statue to him, back and forth a couple of times before you finally spoke, "Do your people not realize that you are their archon? Why do they call you the bard and seem to disregard you?"

Venti's eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, "Oh... That's um..." You raised a brow at him, "Why do you hide your identity?" Venti paused again, but recovered by clearing his throat, "I would rather the people have full freedom then feel the need to bow down to me, I don't want to go into details." You simply regarded his words with a shrug, "Well, that's your choice, I guess." Venti blinked at your nonchalant acceptance but quickly smiled his usual bright smile, "Anyways, that's enough of that tour. I'll take you to the Knights of Favonius headquarters now."

It wasn't long before you both arrived to HQ and entered through the grand double doors. Venti approached the first door on the left, "And this is Acting Grandmaster Jean's office." Venti stepped aside to allow you to enter first, but before you hand could even turn to handle, the door flew open. A hard mass ran into you and the next thing you knew, you were on the ground. Your nose scrunched up from the fall and a smooth voice sounded out, "Oh my! I am so sorry. Please, let me..." The voice trailed off as you looked up at the source.

Light periwinkle eye met yours. You studied the tall tanned man before you as he looked at you, not with wariness, but with pure awe. Venti stared at the interaction and then let out a light knowing giggle which snapped both you and the man out of it. The man cleared his throat and held out his hand out towards you and you took it. After you were pulled back to your feet, the man gave you a charming smile, "The name's Kaeya. Calvary Captain of the Knights of Favonius." His smooth voice made you feel as though you were being wrapped up in a soft blanket. "I'm y/n", you replied then looked down at where his hand was still holding yours, "You can let go now..."

Kaeya's cheeks reddened immediately and he let go of your hand, letting out an awkward laugh, "Sorry about that." A blonde woman peeked behind Kaeya's shoulder, "And who might this be?" Kaeya stepped aside to allow both you and Jean to get a better look at each other and Venti spoke up, "She's new here and will be staying here for awhile." Jean smiled softly at you, "Then, please, come in. We can discuss any questions you might have and I'll find you a good place to stay while you're here." With that, you entered her office and discussions began.

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After Jean had escorted you to your new home, you were finally alone again. You laid flat on your back against the small, soft twin-sized bed as you stared up at the wooden ceiling. "Things will be different now... Things will be better... At least I hope so...", you spoke aloud to noone. Since it had become late in the day and you were too exhausted to prepare a meal for yourself or purchase clothes that better with this nation, you resigned yourself to head to the tavern Venti spoke so highly of.

Making your way through town as the sun hung low in the sky that casted pink and purple hues over everything, you push open the door to Angel's Share and were instantly greeted with music from a bard you didn't know and drunk patrons laughing and talking loudly throughout the cozy space. Your eyes drifted over to the bar where you spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man with fiery red hair. Your heart instantly jumped in your chest at the sight of a familiar hair color that the majority of your nation bore. He made you feel a small comfort with something so familiar.

Without much thought, you strode over to where he was and sat on one of the bar stools that creaked slightly underneath you. The sound caught the man's attention, he paused his wiping of the drinking glass he had been cleaning as his crimson eyes met yours, "What can I get for you?" His voice was deep and almost monotonous, but there was a sense of comfort tied to it. He studied you with a brief curiosity before he apparently decided your different appearance didn't matter to him.

"I'll take a Queimada", you replied instantly earning you a quirked brow from the man. "Apologies, but we don't serve that here. From that choice though, you must be from Natlan, correct?", his question wasn't wary, simply curious as he took in your appearance yet again. You nodded once, "That's right." There was a bit of an awkward pause that the man had no intention of filling, so you were the first to break it, "I'll just take what specialty you serve here." With a nod, he made your drink and set it down in front of you, the golden liquid looked bright and sweet, "Enjoy."

You took a sip and it wasn't long before you had downed 3 more glasses of what you learned to be dandelion wine. You finally cracked a little smile at the brooding man and introduced yourself, to which he finally casted a glance your way for the first time in a while, "I'm Diluc, the owner of Dawn Winery and Angel's Share." His response was gruff though you could tell he meant no harm by it. You both had been fine with the silence between the two of you as you drank what he served you, but with the alcohol that buzzed beneath your skin, you longed for more conversation. Before further conversation could ensue, you heard a familiar sing-song voice calling out to you, "Y/n! Come join us!"

Diluc groaned which made you turn to see the one who called out to you. It was no other than Venti who sat with a smirking Kaeya. You quirked a brow at Diluc to which he gave you a defeated and narrowed look, "Those two cause too much disturbance. It would best if you didn't get too wrapped up with them." But you being you, took that as a bit of challenge, "I can handle it." Diluc rolled his eyes at your response and didn't spare you a second glance as you strolled over to the two men who desired your presence.

Kaeya got up and pulled the chair out for you. One corner of your lips curled up as you gave him a teasing look, "Such a gentleman." He bowed dramatically, playing along, "Of course, my dear~" This display pulled a laugh from you that caused Kaeya to feel a tug on his heart, but he hid it behind a cheeky smile and sat down when you did as well. The night went on and whenever Kaeya got up to retrieve more drinks for both you and Venti, the girls seemed to flock to him. You couldn't help but watch as he never turned down flirtations from the girls and expertly charmed them in return.

You weren't close enough to Kaeya to feel any sort of jealousy, but part of you silently admitted you hated what you saw. That small part of you hoped he treated you and only you like that. What a silly thought to have for someone you had just met earlier that day... Without your knowing, Venti took in your very subtle disheartened look whenever Kaeya charmed someone else. Not that he would particularly do anything with this new information, but he didn't like seeing you unhappy.

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Weeks seemed to pass by quicker than you had expected. Some of the people of Mondstadt were still wary of you and kept their distance, not that you particularly cared much. You were happy with your small group of people you were now considering your friends that consisted of Kaeya, Venti, Diluc, and Jean. You remember being with Jean when you decided you should probably purchase clothes that better fit with the style of Mondstadt. You looked at her as if she were crazy when she came over to your place and handed you an off-the-shoulder long sleeve top, a brown corset, and dark green pants.

She insisted that you put it on and relented with a heavy sigh, going into your bathroom and changing. When you stepped out in the new outfit, Jean looked so proud, "Come on. You should be out and about in this!" You felt awkward leaving your home in an outfit that felt foreign to you, but when the two of you came across Kaeya by the fountain in the center of the city, you felt differently. Jean looked up at him expectantly, "Welllll? What do you think?"

Kaeya stood there stunned at the way you looked. His eye trailed your figure, taking in the swell of the top of your breasts and the way the corset hugged your figure tightly and oh... the pants.... He felt his cock twitch involuntarily and a slight blush crept to his tanned cheeks, "You look more beautiful than ever." You weren't entirely sure of how genuine his words were since the tone of his voice was the same tone he used to charm every other woman who approached him with flirtatious intentions. That small part of you whispered to you that you wanted him to only say those words to you in such a tone, but you knew from what you had observed, that wouldn't ever be likely. Kaeya seemed to belong to everyone.

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As months passed, you felt yourself longing for Kaeya's attention, but he always seemed just out of your grasp even if he spent most of his free time with you and the others. You knew it seemed foolish to have that desire, but you couldn't help how you felt towards him. You two had grown quite close and even shared moments where you felt as though he felt the same way towards you.

One memory you can recall of such an instance is when he insisted on walking you home late at night after quite a few rounds of drinks. The warm air felt comfortable as it brushed through your hair and his as you both walked. The streets were mostly quiet besides the sounds of frogs croaking somewhere in the distance and bugs singing their nightly songs. There was a brief moment in which your hand brushed against his and you muttered a quick apology. Kaeya chuckled softly in response and told you it was fine.

Part of you wished you were brave enough to just take his hand in yours, but instead you were a coward. Once you reached your doorstep, you turned and looked up at Kaeya who gave a soft smile down at you, "Goodnight. Sleep well." His voice and the way he looked at you made you want so much more. You stood there lost in him, wishing he would kiss you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Kaeya tilted his head ever-so slightly, eyebrows furrowed, and lowered his voice, "Are you alright?" You blinked and gave a half-hearted smile, "I'm fine. Must've just had too much to drink..." Kaeya visibly relaxed at your answer, "Well, have a good night then. I should be going now." You kept your half-hearted smile, "Yeah. Goodnight, Kaeya." He gave one more soft smile and turned, walking away into the night.

Another memory you were quite fond of was another time were it had been just you and Kaeya. You were sitting on the edge of Starsnatch Cliff letting your legs dangle as the wind threaded through your hair. "Need some company?" a smooth voice spoke out to you. You turned your head to see a smirking Kaeya approaching. You gave him a slight smile in return and he sat down next to you. His shoulder brushed against yours, but neither of you moved away at the feeling.

Kaeya broke the peaceful silence between you, "Do you come here often?" You barked out a laugh that turned into genuine laughter, “Does that line usually work for you?" Kaeya raised a brow at your response, but once the realization struck him he laughed, "I've never had to use that line before, so you tell me..." He gently grasped your chin and leaned in dangerously close with a smirk, his voice lowered, "Did it work?"

Your eyes widened and your cheeks turned crimson at the closeness and the gesture. You quickly came back to yourself and swatted his hand away, turning you face back to the sprawling view in front of you, "You'll have to try a little harder. Lines like that don't work on me." Kaeya looked amused but also faced to view that captured your attention and spoke nonchalantly, "Guess I'll have to be better next time."

Later that evening, you came home to find three cecelias tied together on a blue string with a little note that read: Hopefully this is an improvement from cheesy pick-up lines. Your heart skipped a beat. This certainly was better than any cheesy pick-up line.

From then, your heart seemed to ache for him even more. But seeing the way he was with every other woman really made you feel like shit, so you turned to the one who knew him best, Diluc.

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It was evening when you made the decision to ask for Diluc's advice, strolling into Angel's Share with a disheartened look. Diluc's crimson eyes met yours as soon as you walked in and his eyebrows furrowed when he saw the look on your face, "What's wrong?"

You sighed and plopped down on one of the bar stools, immediately crossing your arms on top of the bar and resting your forehead down on them. "This is so stupid. I'm so stupid. I hate this...", your voice came out muffled from the position you were in, but Diluc caught the gist of your grumbles. "Come on, lift your head up. How can I possibly help if I can't even hear what's troubling you?", his voice was stern but was mixed with genuine worry. Though Diluc wasn't one to be generally close with others, he felt that all those times he spent around you that he was comfortable with you.

You finally lifted your head and Diluc's somewhat stern expression morphed to pure concern when he saw the tears pricking your eyes. Immediately he announced for everyone to get out of the tavern, stating they were closing early for the night. People grumbled, not wanting their drinking shenanigans to end to early, but they left as they were told. As soon as the tavern was empty, he came from behind the bar and sat next to you, his voice low with worry, "Tell me why you're crying."

You sniffled as tears threatened to spill, "This is so stupid. I shouldn't even be crying." Diluc frowned, "No. Whatever it is, it's making you cry. Not once have I seen you cry while you've been staying here in Mondstadt. So tell me." You bit the inside of your cheek and then relented. As you explained your feelings about Kaeya, the only thing that kept Diluc from confirming that you were indeed stupid to even have feelings for his brother were your tears that continuously rolled down your cheeks.

In a soft gesture that Diluc didn't do for just anyone, he gently wiped one of the tears from your cheek with the pad of his gloved thumb, "Your feelings and concerns aren't stupid, even if I don't agree with you having romantic feelings for Kaeya, I can't disregard them just because I personally dislike him for my own reasons." You looked into his eyes and knew he was being genuine with you, "But what do I even do? I hate feeling like this..." Diluc frowned as he tried to come up with a proper response for something he had never dealt with before, "Try to distract yourself. Put your focus on yourself and when you're ready, start to focus on someone new."

You pondered his words for a moment with shaky breaths, "But what if I can't?" Diluc gently grabbed your shoulders and leaned closer to you, "You can. You're a strong woman, so don't doubt yourself." For some reason his words made you cry again, perhaps not from sadness, moreso from feeling too much at once. This startled Diluc and he did what he thought would be best to calm you. He stood up and brought you into his arms in a warm, comforting embrace. He held you and smoothed your hair as you cried into his chest.

One thing the two of you did not know what Kaeya was there just outside the tavern, having watched this exchange from the front window. He didn't know what had been said between the two of you, but seeing the way Diluc wiped your tears in an intimate gesture and held you against him in his arms made something twist in Kaeya's stomach. So, you had supposedly chosen Diluc. Maybe you wanted Diluc this whole time. Kaeya witnessing what had just happened seemed to bring a sense of finality to his question. To him, you chose his brother.

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Ever since that night, you had noticed that Kaeya seemed to be avoiding you which made you feel incredibly worse. You wanted to listen to Diluc's advice and push past your feelings for Kaeya since he seemed so unattainable. Kaeya would still spend some evenings with you and the others, but more frequently began to find excuses for why he couldn't join you all. When he was around you, he still had that mischievous charm, that sweet but sly smirk, and kind compliments that he gave to you. He seemed the same as ever, but with the growing distance, you weren't sure what to think.

You made yourself believe that you were fine with this. Diluc said to keep your distance as well so you tried to not let it get to you whenever Kaya couldn't join you are the group. But fuck, it did bother you. So fucking much. Will this heartache ever go away? No.

Apparently you were only getting ready to be completely heartbroken.

You couldn't have known what you were about to walk into. How could you have? You had gone to the tavern as usual, already accepting that Kaeya said he wouldn't be able to make it for whatever made up excuse he came up with this time. You sat at the bar having some light-hearted conversation with Diluc and throwing back a drink or maybe more than just one. Your brain was swimming with the alcohol you had consumed and excused yourself to the bathroom to splash your face with water to sober up a little.

Before you could even make it there, you heard a familiar laugh.

Kaeya's laugh. Your first thought was that it was a comforting sound only for your second thought to come barrelling in. What was he doing here? He said he couldnt make it so why the hell were you hearing his laughter? With the alcohol flooding your mind and heating your body, you went to find the source.

The sound of his flirtatious, sultry voice could not be mistaken for someone else's. The voice carried you to the second floor of Angel's Share. And there he was. He wasn't alone. Some pretty little blonde stood there, leaning over his table and propping herself up on her elbows as her ass stuck out in the position she put herself in. You couldn't hear what either of them said because the pounding of your heart filled your ears.

You stood there in some kind of stupor, frozen in place. The next thing you knew, the girls lips were on his. You didn't stay to see what happened next. You raced down the stairs. This caught Diluc's attention. The sight of you racing towards him looking as though you had seen a ghost. He didn't hesitate for even a second when you begged him to take you home, claiming that you couldn't bear to be alone right then. Tossing the tavern's keys to Charles, who caught them effortlessly and took over as if this was nothing new to him.

Diluc held you by your waist protectively as you both walked quickly out of Angel's Share and towards your home. He didn't speak, feeling it wasn't the right moment to ask you anything. As soon as you both entered your home and Diluc shut the door, rain began to pelt against the windows and you threw yourself in his arms and sobbed.

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Diluc held you for what seemed like hours as you wet the front of his shirt with your tears, your fingers clutching the fabric as if he were your lifeline. He didn't mind it so much, he just wanted you to feel better and if holding you and letting you cry against him was what you wanted, he would stay like just like this.

You meant something to him, even though it wasn't in a romantic sense, you were deeply important to him. After what seemed like forever, he tilted your head up gently so you would look up at him, “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. But just know that I’m here and I’m listening.” You drew in shaky breaths, your body trembling from all the crying, “He was there. With someone else. She… They… They kissed.”

Diluc's expression of concern morphed to anger and he held you close once again as you began to cry once more, but softly this time.

Why was his brother so fucking stupid? Didn't Kaeya know what you felt for him? Couldn't he even tell?

It took a long time for you to calm down, but with Diluc keeping his arms wrapped around you as you listened to him breathe and softly soothe you helped immensely. When you looked up at him again he gave a sad smile, "Will you be alright by yourself tonight?" You wiped your tear-stained cheeks and let out a breath, "I'll be okay... You've done enough for me already...”

He brushed away a strand of your hair that was stuck to your wet cheek, "Are you sure?" You gave a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, "Promise. Now go home. I've kept you long enough." Diluc huffed at your answer but he wouldn't push you to change your mind.

If you said you would be okay, he would believe you. He gently grasped you shoulders and spoke in earnest, "Don't hesitate to come to the winery if you find you can't be alone later. My doors will be open for you." You smiled slightly at that and thanked him. Diluc pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before turning on his heels and heading out into the pouring rain.

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You change into a nightgown, get a fire started in your little fireplace, and make yourself a cup of hot tea. You hold the warm mug in both of your hands as you watched the steam rise. The rain didn't seem to be letting up any time soon, but that was fine with you. It suits your mood. You take a sip of your tea and let the warmth fill your body as your eyes trail after a raindrop that was rolling down your window.

You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear a desperate knock on your door. Your heart clenched tightly when you heard the voice on the other side, "Y/n. It's me. Please, please let me in. Let me talk to you." It was Kaeya. A small part of you held a flicker of hope when you heard it was him, but the other part of you felt even worse. The knocking and desperate pleas to be let in continued as you weighed whether you should open the door and hear what he had to say.

A crack of thunder reminded you that it was pouring outside and Kaeya must be absolutely soaked. You would feel bad if he got horribly sick, so with a heavy sigh you open the door.

There he was, looking down into your eyes with a gaze full of turmoil, seemingly unfazed by how the rain continues to pelt his tanned skin and drench him completely. "Please... Will you please listen to me?" his voice is soft but with so much desperation and heartache. You frown up at him, but step to the side to let him in without a word. Kaeya steps in and water droplets roll off of him, dripping to your wooden floors.

You set down your mug on the small wooden table that still held the now dried-out cecelias he had given you some time ago, "Let me get you a towel." Before you could turn to do as you said from your bathroom, his large hand grabbed your wrist. Kaeya pulled you back towards him, almost making you stumble, "No, let me speak first You blink up at him, opening your mouth to protest, but you quickly close it and sigh heavily. The fire crackles to your left and you decide to speak, "Let's at least sit in front of the fire. ... don't want you getting sick because of this." Kaeya let go of your wrist and nodded.

You both sit on the intricately designed rug as the fire crackles and casts a warm, orange glow on both of you. You avoid looking at him, staring at the flames instead when you speak softly, "I don't really want to talk to you right now, but you seem to have something to say. The least I can do is listen." Kaeya runs a hand through his damp blue hair, "I'm sorry for avoiding you occasionally." You huff, "No, I get it. You were seeing someone else so-" "What are you even talking about??", Kaeya cuts you off.

You finally turn your head to look at him with an incredulous look, "Seriously, Kaeya? I saw you tonight with that girl. You were kissing." Kaeya groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, "It's not like that." "Then what else could it possibly be?", you snap. "If you're seeing someone then just say so, I'II be fine." His jaw clenches, "Of course you'd be fine, you're with my brother." Your jaw drops at the words,"What are you saying? I'm not with anyone, certainly not Diluc for that matter. We aren't together."

Kaeya scoffs, "Well you sure looked awfully cozy when he wiped away your tears and held you some nights ago at Angel's Share. And you seem to spend an awful lot of time with him these days." "That only happened because I was crying over my aching feelings for you!", you raise your voice and immediately regret letting your words slip so easily. Kaeya stares at you in shock for a moment before speaking softly, "..What?"

Tears threaten to prick the inner corners of your eyes, but you turn to face to fire again, "My feelings don't matter. As I said earlier, you have that girl." Kaeya leans in towards you, "Look at me." His voice was soft, but with a commanding desperation. You finally spare him a glance, tears welling up in your eyes. He puts his palm to your cheek and caresses it, "I'm not with the girl that you saw. I didn't even know who she was.” A tear rolls down your cheek and your voice breaks when you speak, "Then why did you kiss her?"

His thumb swipes away the rolling tear and his forehead presses against yours, "She kissed me and I pushed her away right after she did that. You can ask the others that were up there, I'm being honest here." A few more tears fall and he holds you face with both hands now, forehead still pressed to yours as he speaks in a hushed voice, "You're the only I want. The only one I've been wanting since you came here." Your teary eyes search his eye, looking for any trace of dishonesty but you could find none, only truth. His breath fans against your face as he speaks again, "You're the one who has my heart. No one else. I mean it, truly."

You don't even think, you just act. Your lips press against his, startling him at first but he soon melts into it. His lips move in rhythm with yours. Your arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. Your nightgown getting wet as you pressed against his rain-soaked body.

The kiss becomes more desperate and you find yourself laying flat against the rug with Kaeya caging you in underneath him as the fire crackles and pops beside the two of you. "Tell me you want this just as much as I do", his voice came out almost shaky between heavy breaths. Your soft hand caresses his cheek and down to the back of his neck as you pulled him down to you, "More than anything, I need you."

That was all it took for him to hastily unbutton his shirt and and shrug it off his body, his pants came off just as swiftly. You lay there in awe of his tanned, muscular body and your eyes trailed down the light blue happy trail that led down to a small tuft of tangled blue and a heavy, throbbing cock with a pink, leaking tip. If you had been just anyone, he would've smirked at your reaction, but right now was not the time for teasing. He made quick work of you nightgown, tossing it unceremoniously behind him. Your breasts moved in time with you heavy breaths and he took in every inch of your body, "I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you...” His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke.

Kaeya lowered himself down and spread your thighs gently. His breath is hot against your sensitive pussy and makes you long for him even more. His uncovered eye flits up to your face and just as quickly as he look up at you, his tongue began to flick against your clit. You draw in a sharp breath as your back arches off the rug in time with a sporadic pop from the fireplace. He groans with need when his tongue licks through your folds and laps at the taste of you.

Your legs begin to shake from the intensity of it all and you tangle your fingers in his still slightly damp hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your grind your pussy against his tongue as he pushes you over the edge into white-hot bliss. You cry out his name when his tongue gives one more flick to your now overly sensitive clit. When he moves up towards your blissful face, you can see your own juices glistening against his lips. You don't even care that you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue when Kaeya kisses you with a deep passion.

His aching cock rubs against your wet pussy as his tongue dances with yours. Kaeya pulls back just enough that your lips still graze against each other as he speaks, "Please.." That's all he says with a breathless voice as his eye gazes into yours with so much love and desperation. You nod once and it was all it took for him to be lined up with your entrance and pushing in slowly. His eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a broken moan as he pushes his length into your warm, wet walls.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him against your body tightly as you release breathy moans. Once fully sheathed, Kaeya stills inside of you, letting you adjust to his thickness and length that were foreign to you. He presses a soft kiss to your neck as he pulls out slightly then slams back into you, making you dig your nails into his shoulders. He hisses at the feeling but doesn't stop his movement, "Fuck, you feel so good. Tell me you're mine. Please, angel, tell me you're mine." His voice was so desperate as he spoke between deep thrusts and whining groans. "I'm yours, Kaeya. Always was yours. Forever yours", you cry out as tears spill from your eyes yet again but for an entirely different reason.

Your heart feels like it is overflowing with emotion that you can't even begin to put into words. Kaeya's lips meet yours feverishly as he thrusts relentlessly into you. His cock hitting the deepest parts of you and you wrap your legs around his waist. "Gonna cum, angel", he breathes against your lips and soon your name becomes like a prayer falling repeatedly from his lips. Barely a moment later, Kaeya moans loudly and his cock throbs and twitches erratically as hot, white ropes of cum fill you. Your pussy contracts tightly around his in response as you hold him even tighter and cry out in time with the booming thunder outside your home.

Kaeya relaxes on top of you, his chest heaving and sweat glistening in the glow of the dying fire. He rolls off of you but turns towards you. You turn your head to take in his features and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, "So this is what love feels like, huh?"

Your heart flutters in your chest and you turn your body fully towards him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close against him. You press your face against his chest and he kisses the top of your head. You finally speak, your voice soft, "You must be right."

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛

a/n: i went through all the stages of grief while writing this🥲

[neo-novaa]

enchanted

; the second part to enamored

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neteyam x na'vi!reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut !! p in v, fingering, implied first time, not proofread so if you see any errors, no you dont!

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

*ੈ✩ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: gah damn this took too long, writing smut as an asexual is not for the week.

“i see you.”

your breath catches in your throat when you hear neteyam say it. you slowly open your eyes, practically seeing your own reflection in his dilated pupils. it takes strength to only keep your eyes on his, to not let them wander down to his tantiling lips.

“i see you,” you whisper in return, watching the way that the corner of his eyes crinkle into a smile.

in mere moments his lips are on yours again, that carnal want and need weighing heavy in the air around you. it’s all tooth and tongue, messy, thick with something so much more carnal than you’ve ever felt before.

your hands are carelessly and aimlessly grasping neteyams body, trying to bring him closer to you, to get every inch of his skin against yours.

you only pull away when neteyam guides you to the ground, his hands still finding their place on your jaw. the way that he’s suddenly avoiding your gaze is making you nervous.

“what is it neteyam?” your voice is barely a whisper, throat dry from breathing so heavily, your mouth wet from his spit.

“i want it to be you.” he says, persistent in avoiding your gaze. 

confusion quickly clouds the yen in your mind. “you want me to be what?”

neteyams eyes finally reach yours, and you find something nervous behind them-- a look you hadn’t seen since that night you rode out together. he glances down quickly, drawing his hands from your face and taking yours instead.

“i choose you.” he whispers, punctuation every word. “for the rest of my life, i would want no one else by my side. i want it to be you--” his right hand is suddenly bringing yours to his chest. “i’ve always wanted it to be you.”

you can feel how fast his heart is beating, how strong it is; how heavy it is beneath the chest, weighed with the burden of his long pining over you.

“please,” he murmurs, a silent plea to hear of whether or not the feeling is reciprocated.

“ma’teyam,” you match his volume, delicately pressing down against his chest. “it has always been you; it could only be you.”

in less than a moment his lips are on yours, swallowing the air in your lungs and the words on your tongue. his hands are all over you, aimlessly grasping at your skin-- you barely have time to keep up before he pulls away from you, leaving you absolutely wrecked.

“i want you to feel what i feel,” neteyam’s reaching over his shoulder. “for you to feel what i feel for you.”

he presents you his queue, the pink tendrils grasping the air around it. you don’t hesitate to reach for you own, but you find yourself pausing before you make tsaheylyu.

you’re nervous, overwhelmingly so. the exhilaration at the thought of being his mate  is clouded at the sudden anxiety of your first time.

“hey,” he catches your attention by thumbing at your knee. “it’ll be okay, i promise. trust me.” his last words are a whisper, slowly but surely easing your fears.

you watch as your queues intertwine with one another, as you are suddenly and powerfully hit with an onslaught of effections--

his feelings get lost with your own, and for the first few moments, you can’t tell where you start, and he ends. your heartbeats in sync, your breathing steady with one another, your minds temporarily melding into one.

only then does it really hit you.

first, it’s the love.

the undying adoration, the never-ending fondness rooted so deeply in his soul that it has surpassed a feeling, and has turned into a core emotion.

joy, sorrow, fear and love-- love that is completely devoted to you.

the sudden warmth that is desperately heating your bodies, sharp adrenaline running through your brins, the unwavering need to be closer than physically possible with the person across, to be bound to them, body and soul.

then, it’s the lust.

the unyielding, ever present need for you, like a hunger that he was never able to satiate. you can feel those long nights he’d have, desperately bucking into his hand, wishing-- longing for it to be you instead.

the deep and inate desire that is heating your bodies, that primal desire for you ingrained in his body like a sixth sense; that ever-present, all-pervading yearning that never once waivered.

and you can feel his pain. not the one that you’d get from a knife to the throat, or a blow to a head, no-- the type of pain that resides deep in your abdomen, pulsing, aching-- the type that can only intensify with your touch.

you barely notice how hard your breathing, you barely notice how you’re sharing that same ache for him. 

you barely get his name out before you’re on top of neteyam, straddling his thigh, fervently pressing your lips against his. you keep moving yourself closer, nearer, you need to be underneath his skin--

the euphoric feeling of the bond becomes more tolerable, that out-of-body feeling dissipating until you can finally feel where your fingers touch him. you’re hyperaware of his breath on your neck, his hands gripping your waist, his dick pressing hard against your loincloth.

his fingers dig into you, grinding your hips down onto him. he’s breathing into your neck, desperately rutting into you. you can feel his own pleasure within you, every roll of your hip giving you and him the friction you need.

neteyams movements suddenly still, and you bite back a whine at the sudden understumulation.

“can i touch you?” he pleas, his voice dry and his chest heaving. “can i please touch you?” his desperation sends chills down your spine.

his hands are climbing your waist, reaching the bottom of your waist before falling back down to your hips.

“yes,” you rasp, mind foggy with your own arousal. “yes, please--”

you’re pushing yourself up from your knees, fussing with the knots of your loincloth, neteyams hand on the small of your back as he lays you down. the moment you get it off of your abdomen, he’s pressing a thumb against your clit.

your back arches to the sky as you let out a loud whine, neteyam matching it as he can feel your pleasure through tsaheylu.

without much warning, neteyam sticks a finger inside of you, the two of you gasping together at the sensation. 

“is this okay?” he asks, and you’re too overwhelmed to do anything but nod.

“good, good…” neteyam whisperes as he begins to curl his finger inside of you. you rut your hips into his hand, chasing that arousal, urging that tightening coil in your abdomen.

just as you’re getting acclimated to one finger, neteyam is pushing another inside of you, curling at your gummy walls.

“shi-- ‘teyam, feels so--” you can barely get a word out without whining incoherently, and you spot the way that neteyam seems just out of breath as you are.

“i know, i can feel it.” he murmurs, and you whimper noisily as he begins to hasten his pace. he gently pushes his thumb against your aching clit, and whines loudly  at the shared sensation.

“so good, doin’ so good,” he says against your neck, and you can feel him grinding against your thigh. 

“neteyam-- please,” you whine, grabbing at his shoulders. 

“yeah? what is it, use your words.” he purrs.

it’s hard to get any words out with the way that he’s fingering you. his thumb pushing against your clit in firm circles, his digits pressing against a spot that’s making you see stars--

“i wa-- ah… i want you in me,” you barely get out, and you can feel how quickly that gets to him-- his breath quivering, cock twitching against your leg.

neteyam doesn’t say anything before he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you squirming at the lack of stimulation. above you, you can see neteyam ardently working with his loincloth, sweat dripping from his forehead.

you could feel his anticipation, that voracious yearning that’s been festering inside of him for years. your heartbeats fast, your breathing in sync, and you feel that same ardor creeping up in your chest.

neteyams on top of you again, one arm encaging your head as hot breath hitting your neck with his head resting against the forest floor.

“you ready?” he grunts, his tip aching against your folds.

“yes,” you breathe, feeling your heart flutter with yours. 

he pushes into you, buries himself into you until his hips meet yours. you can’t help the way your chest arches into his, and neteyam can’t help the way he’s whimpering into your ear. you can feel each others pleasure, and it’s enough to make the two of you see stars.

your hands find his waist, thumbing against the muscles on his lower abdomen, silently encouraging -- begging him to move.

he swiftly gets the message, slowly pulling out, gently rutting back into you, setting an almost sluggish pace.

but you can feel how much he’s holding back. in his taut muscles, his furrowed brows, and the way that he’s grunting through his teeth-- he’s holding back, and you don’t want him to hold back; you want him to ruin you.

“neteyam,” you’re sighing his name, feeling the way he twitches inside of you. “please don’t hold back.”

“it’s okay,” he quickly replies, his hips stuttering against yours. “--just want you to feel good.”

“neteyam.” you say his name more firmly, nearly yanking him by the back of his head to face you.

“i want all of you.” you see his eyes widen. “i need all of you.”

he doesn’t say anything; all neteyam does it push your leg until your thigh meets your chest, kiss you hard, and set an absolutely brutal pace. 

you can barely hear his quiet whines and breathy moans against your hips rutting together; you barely register how hard neteyam is biting into your neck, his canines digging into your skin. 

your nails dig into his back, your chest meeting his as you arch into his thrusts.

“--teyam,” you whine, exposing more of your neck to his blistering lips on your neck. “don’t leave marks. people will see, they will stare.”

he pulls away, only to blow his hot breath against the welts on your neck. 

“let them stare,” he nearly growls, pushing away to meet your gaze. “let everyone know who you belong to.”

neteyam resumes position, his cabins digging deeper into your shoulder. his free had pushes your hips down, keeping you still as he keeps driving into you.

“you like that, don’t you,” neteyam whispers into your ear, brushing his temple against yours. “the thought of being covered in bruises because of me?”

you nod helplessly, relishing how tight your abdomen burns. you can feel it coiling tighter, burning harder, and your hands are clawing at neteyam, chasing your release.

you grasp at his neck, pulling him closer, pushing him to go harder. you beg for him, for his touch, for anything--

“what is it?” he murmurs, lips moving to your jugular, neteyam watching as it bobs helplessly, your words swallowed by helpless whines. 

“touch me,” you mewl, feeling tears prick at the corners of you eyes. everything he does is too much and too little-- you can feel every one of his nerves crashing into yours, yet you don’t feel him enough. 

skin against skin, heartbeats in sync, but yet you can’t feel complete without his hands on you. 

“where do you want me to touch you?” he’s filled with questions, and you can feel how hard he’s trying to concentrate on you. on your words, your touch, the beautiful noises that come spilling from your lips every time he buries himself into you.

“i don’t know, i don’t care-- i just want your hands on me. please--” you rush your words, the ache in your chest matching the burning in your core. 

he whispers something against your lips, something incoherent beneath his whimpers, your mewls, and skin slapping against skin.

you can feel his touch scortching into your sides, one of his hands digging into your waist as the other moves south, his fingers finding place against your clit.

you arch into his fingers, neteyam feeling the way your lungs burn with your needy gasps. you’re close-- he’s close, bodies moving against each other in sync.

“mine, all mine.” he says, rutting into you as he seeks his own release. he’s thumbing against your clit, helping the pressure build inside of you. he knows you’re close, he can feel it.   

your hands finally find their place on his cheeks, bringing his face down to yours. his pupils are blown, eclipsing his iris’ until all you can see is a golden halo. 

“yours,” you breathe against his lips, kissing him firmly. “all yours.” 

that’s all he needs to finish, burying himself into you, murmuring your name like a prayer. you feel yourself crashing over the edge, digging your nose into his neck, basking in the rhapsodic feeling of your shared release.

his forehead against yours, hands finding their place on your hips, calming your twitching abdomen as you ride the aftershock of your orgasm. 

through your bond you can still feel his heartbeat, it’s pace catching up to yours. you breathe the same air as him, thick with your shared heat and pheromones. it’s sickly, how deeply you scent him, and how much of you he can feel in his lungs.

for a moment, thats all you do; you bask in the shared space, the feeling of pure adoration eating each other alive. you can feel your breathing become even, your heart slowing pace, his chest beating against yours.

neteyam breaths your name against your lips, and you can’t help but smile.

you’ve never felt closer to him, and a part of you fears that if you break the bond, he will slip through your hands, and become a stranger to you once more.

so you hold onto neteyam like he’s falling, slipping away from you. you hold him like he’s nothing but a fleeting moment. you hold him like he’s a dream, and you squeeze your eyes shut in fear that when you open them, he will be gone.

neteyam can feel your fear. all he knows is that he loves you, and you love him, and he shows you that love by slipping his arms under your back, putting all his weight on you as he embraces you.

“i see you.” neteyam whispers. his words slipping into your mouth, his lips against yours, savoring the taste of your love for him. 

“i see you,” you echo, like it’s a secret that you’d been too nervous to share. but neteyam takes your words and swallows them whole, letting them fuel his blood, his lungs, and his heart.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

When Jaskier's angry or upset, it's always "Don't touch me!" "Get away!" "Hands off!" And then the bard will be gone for hours or days until he calms down.

Now, Geralt understands this kind of reaction. He himself doesn't want to talk to/be around others when he's angry. Much less let anyone touch him. The thing is...Jaskier acting that way never fails to make Geralt feel like shit. Jaskier is usually so affectionate that the sudden cut off is jarring. The first few times it happened, Geralt had been sure that Jaskier was fed up with him and leaving for good.

However, Jaskier always returns. They make amends, and the bard resumes his touchy, affectionate ways.

One day though, they have their worst argument yet. And although he had always come back before, Geralt is certain that this is the time Jaskier will leave forever. If Jaskier walks out that door, Geralt is sure he will never see him again.

So, unthinkingly, Geralt catches the bard's wrist.

Jaskier's eyes widen, panic replaces anger. "Geralt! Let me go! Let me go right now!"

Geralt loosens his grip reflexively in response to Jaskier's panic. Did the bard think the witcher would force him to stay?

He opens his mouth to try to explain.

Only, the world is...spinning? And Geralt's tongue is heavy. And everything is warm. Oh, he feels like he’s going to hurl.

Then, he passes out.

An unknown amount of time later, Geralt wakes. He feels kind of hungover but is otherwise fine. To his relief, Jaskier is sitting at his bedside.

When the bard notices Geralt is awake, he inquires after his health. At Geralt's reassurance that he is fine, Jaskier launched into a tirade about the number of times he had told Geralt "NOT TO TOUCH ME WHEN I’M MAD! AND THAT INCLUDES RIGHT NOW, YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH, YOU BASTARD!!!"

Geralt is a bit confused about how Jaskier being mad and his fainting spell are connected.

Two things are revealed:

1) Jaskier is part fae.

2) Some fae become toxic to touch when they are angry or upset. It is a magical trait, so it fades when the anger does. However, it can still be deadly.

This puts some things into perspective. Like how Jaskier, who seems to feel entitled to his emotions/reactions no matter how inappropriate they may be, is very skilled at cooling his temper. Or how, when he does become angry, he chooses verbal slander over physical violence. Or how when there IS a physical fight Jaskier wraps his hands in cloth and tries to use blunt instruments.

Bonus: Geralt tells all of the witchers not to touch Jaskier when he's mad, and Lambert takes that as a challenge.

I LOVE THIS!!!!!! OH MY GOODDDDDD!!! You take the things we spoke about and add onto it like putting glitter on a macaroni art craft, it's beautiful, It's so beautiful, oh my god! Poor Geralt thought his bard was leaving and poor Jaskier has to watch his stupid idiot Witcher touch him, gAH I love it! I want to read a 5k oneshot about it

[joonebugg]

hey … you should def … yap about horror sans heh 😈

Mutual....oh em gee....i should I shouldn't...unless😼

Sorry if this doesn't make sans

GAH I LOOOOVEEEEE HORROR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS MY FAV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And like ik I'm a huge simp for him but I genuinely love his character, I love characters who are mean and honestly a bit screwed up. They are so interesting to think about...canon horror is genuinely an enjoyable character. Asshole characters are my fav

His dynamics with people are my fave...ESPECIALLY with my personal version of him, it's like that with everyone tho lol

To me he has a lot of negative relationships

In terms of Horror and Dust they tolerate eachother, Horror thinks Dust is absolutely disgusting for killing his brother, but he understands the situation and how Dust's intentions maybe mattered, they understand that complex situations can get and Horror understands how haunted Dust is by this.

Horror and Killer are the complete opposite, Killer likes Horror but Horror hates Killer. Killer's battery posses him off, there was no necessity in what he did; Killer killed people because he was bored. That's how Horror see's it anyways. He doesn't realize how Killer's past haunts him, and what lead him to working with Chara and killing his whole au, because he refuses to understand. Horror has such a bias against Killer because of how he views him as weaker and blindly loyal to Nightmare, he hates it, it makes his blood boil how someone could be so loyal to this man who emotionally torments people for fun, to say the least Horror and Killer do NOT get along

Nightmare and Horror is so...chefs kiss, their dynamic is amazing to me. They are my two favorites because of how bad they can get, how terrible of people they can be. And Horror hates this man with every fiber of his being, Horror only listens to Nightmare out of necessity. With the others a simple promise to get them away from their past and out of their au was good enough, but Horror isn't dumb, Horror doesn't work for free, Horror wanted his au taken care of. Nightmare sort of has an admiration for Horror because of that, but it doesn't stop Nightmare from the emotional turmoil he puts Horror through. Horror is also just scared of Nightmare, he's like Undyne in a sense, except successfully taking his eye💀(Nightmare has everyone's weakness on a necklace in order to have more control over everyone)

Once Cross joins I think Horror is suspicious of him off the bat, in my version Cross is sent as a spy by Dream in order to gather any information he can on the gang. Obviously Horror is kind of opposed to this, Nightmare's plans being foiled makes him in a bad mood, which causes worse treatment. As much as Horror hates Nightmare and wants him to suffer, he knows he will just take it out on the gang, especially Horror due to how rebellious he is. Horror ends up not pursuing evidence of Cros being a spy though, he knows Cross is too careful for that, they have a more strained relationship basically, Cross doesn't want to make friends with people in the gang and neither does Horror, they respect that boundary they've set. They'd never get along though, I feel it in my bones.

But uhm yeah :3 if you want anymore rants please tell me, especially if it's like specific to an extent lmao..sorry if this doesn't make sense again💀💀💀

[keirawantstocry]

hi tis i 💋anon. Im running out of ways to convey my love for your writing. Just kissing you is no longer enough, I need you to kill me- Youll still get kisses ofc but- AHHHH. anyways

So ive been having Thoughts about current tubbo. I think he needs to snap and be Covered in blood. Remember day 1 that he was back? where he Immediately threatened the Chocobos cause they were noisy, yeah just snaps and kills all of em. Then just, goes about his day after, not bothering to clean anythin. I feel fit would maybe have a moment of 'WHO DID HE KILL- oh okay', maybe quietly fawning after idk, camera cut to pac. jaw on the Floor, unable to get himself together, Bright Fuckin Red.

I Dont Know i just need more of Pac (and fit lets be honest) being obsessed with men that could(and would) kill them. I also just want Tubbo covered in blood. Thats also my agenda now.

Hope youre having a good day :> (srry that these Keep Gettin Longer)

darling I need you to know that I think ab this ask every day. kisses aren't enough, you need me to kill you?? that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard in my life. I get flustered everytime I read it. gah anyway enough about me you're here for the freaks (affectionate) also never apologize for how long they are i love it

Fit's first emotion when he spotted Tubbo was concern. The second was something deep in his gut that felt eerily similar to the feeling he got seeing Pac kill people in Purgatory. Which sort of made sense considering Tubbo was currently covered in blood. 

Tubbo met his eyes with a strangely empty look. “Hey Fit.” 

“Why are you covered in blood?” And why did his voice sound so strained when he asked?

Tubbo blinked at him slowly with eyes full of emotion that contradicted his emotionless face. “I got annoyed.” 

“At?” 

“Chocobos.” 

The deep feeling in his gut overtook the concern when he realized that Tubbo hadn't hurt an islander or child. “And you haven't cleaned the blood off why?” 

Tubbo's eyebrows dipped down. “I don't know.” 

Fit took a step forward and put his hand on the least bloody part of Tubbo's shoulder. “Why don't you come home with me and let me clean you off, yeah?” 

Tubbo nodded slowly. “Yeah okay.” 

-

Fit had forgotten one tiny detail. The tiny detail in question was standing in the doorway of Fit’s house with an open jaw and wide eyes. 

“Pac,” Tubbo said with a stupid grin before pushing past him into the house. Fit and Pac both watched as he walked straight over to the bathroom and slammed the door. 

Pac grinned with a stupid expression that Fit knew was the one he made at the men he liked. “Who did he kill? Did you watch? Do you think he’ll let me lick the blood off his face?” 

Fit choked on air. “Excuse me?” 

“C’mon,” Pac said in a whine. “He’s strong.” 

“Are you attracted to that?” Fit asked in half disbelief. 

“You’re saying you aren’t?” Pac asked. 

Fit froze. Took a long moment to consider it. It made a lot of sense. The way he couldn’t keep his eyes off him. The intensity of the feeling in his gut that seemed to grow with every second. “Holy shit.” 

Pac laughed wildly. “You spent all that time in the wasteland and you’re telling me you never got a boner for some guy covered in blood?”

Fit spluttered turning bright red but before he could respond, the door to the bathroom was swinging open again. 

There stood Tubbo, shirtless, holding a damp cloth in his hand. “I can’t reach my back, can one of you-” 

“I’ll get it!” Pac interrupted, rushing over to take the wash cloth from Tubbo’s hand. Fit followed them both into the bathroom silently. 

Fit sat at the edge of the bathtub as Tubbo lifted himself up onto the counter. Pac’s mind was clearly out of it considering the long looks he was not subtly giving the man. And the fact he was cleaning blood off his chest and not his back like he had originally asked. But nobody was complaining. 

Fit had to admit there was truth to Pac’s line of thinking. There was something about the mess of blood on Tubbo’s chest that made his mind dizzy and his heart race. So yes. Nobody was complaining. 

Pac motioned for Tubbo to stand back up and he did so with a sigh, standing in front of Fit so Pac had room to work. Fit watched as Pac ran the washcloth under cold water again before wiping it quickly down the blood covering Tubbo’s back. He averted his gaze from his chest up to his face to see the slight pursing of his lips and the hiss at the evident chill of the water. 

“Fuck dude couldn’t made it any colder?” he bitched. 

Fit slapped him lightly on the arm and didn’t think about how warm his skin was. “Leave him alone. He’s helping you.” 

“And why aren’t you? If I remember correctly you said you would help clean me up. I was fine with being bloody, you're the one who insisted on this.” 

Pac paused and peeked at him over Tubbo’s shoulder. “Really?” 

Fit swallowed feeling dizzy and nodded. “Well, yeah.” 

“Then do it.” Tubbo was reaching behind him and taking the wash cloth from Pac’s hands. Fit saw it all in slow motion but with sharp vision. The washcloth was cold. The washcloth was in his hand. Tubbo was looking at him expectantly. 

“There’s no blood left on your chest,” Fit said stupidly, feeling incredibly out of his depth all of a sudden. 

Tubbo shrugged before taking a step forward and turning to sit himself down on Fit’s lap. Fit didn’t even know it was possible for his body to freeze up more but it did. Pac met his eyes, nervous trepidation meeting awestruck joy. Waving him on with one hand, Pac leaned back against the counter to watch them carefully. 

Slowly, Fit took a deep and careful breath. He brought the washcloth up every so gently to rub at the blood staining the skin at the top of Tubbo’s spine. The man’s shoulders slipped down as he relaxed and let the silence fill the room. With his non-metal hand, Fit held the curve of Tubbo’s bicep to keep both of them steady as he scrubbed at a particularly stubborn smudge of blood. The skin under his hand was so warm it was hard to focus on cleaning the blood off. Pac’s eyes were boring into him and the strangely soft lighting in the bathroom made this moment feel much more intimate than was to be expected. 

Simultaneously it felt as if it stretched on forever and also was over way too soon. 

Fit dropped his hand, letting the bloody washcloth fall to the floor. “There,” he said gently. 

“Thank you,” Tubbo said in an even quieter voice before he stood. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” Before either of them could protest, he was pulling his shirt back on and leaving. 

They both stared after him, feeling as if part of them was now missing. Pac giggled suddenly and Fit’s eyes darted over to him. “What are you laughing about?” 

“That was the most-” Pac laughed again. “That was just crazy. You two are something else.” 

“Shut up,” Fit grumbled. 

Pac just laughed once more before standing up to give Fit a quick kiss. “I’m going to go see what Richas is up to, okay?” 

Fit nodded, trying to clear his head. “Yeah, okay, I’ll see you later Pac.” 

“See ya, querido.” 

Fit’s head spun as he stood up. He had a lot to fucking think about.

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can you do Embry X reader where reader is pregnant but really clingy and Embry went on patrol and reader wakes up without him and starts crying and getting really emotional and looking everywhere for him but can't find him so she goes to Emily's house and finds Paul and Rachel outside and they help calm her down and bring her inside where Emily makes her tea and Kim calls Jared and Sam but no one picks up so they get Paul to phase and mindlink with Sam and Embry so him and Embry can switch places so in the meantime Rachel, Kim, Emily and reader start making cookies to distract reader until Embry get there. You can choose the other details

You wake up to kicking in your side. "Gah!" You groan and push lightly on your side. You look over, needing Embry. But, you forget it's his night to patrol. He has been doing it less because you are pregnant.

You can't help but be so emotional because of your pregnancy. You start to panic and cry. You have been up Embry's ass. He doesn't mind it, but he does get worried because, as a shifter, he has duties. You grab your phone and call Embry. No answer. You bawl your eyes out and then call Emily.

"Hey!" She says but instantly, "Uh.. oh... sweet girl, what's wrong?" You start hyperventilating. "I miss Embry." She sighs and then you hear movements. "I'm coming to pick you up."

Once you guys pull up, you see Rachel and Paul. "Oh lord, what do they want?" Emily chuckles. Paul sees you and makes a confused face. You open the door and try to step out of the truck, but Paul rushes next to you and takes your arm. "Hey, you're about to pop. Take it slow." You just keep crying and it won't stop. "I'll make her tea." Emily walks inside.

Rachel grabs your other side, and her and Paul guide her in. "It's okay, y/n. It's okay. Just breathe. Just breathe." Rachel wipes your cheeks and sets you down on the couch.

"Kim, call Jared, please. I'm going to trade with Embry." Paul says. Another pain hits you in the ovaries. "Oh, god." You grab your stomach that feels like a whole mountain crushing your ribs.

"Nobody is answering." Kim sighs. She sits next to you and rubs your hair. "Embry will be here, love. Just try and breathe." She smiles. You nod and start breathing slowly.

Paul leaves the house, you figure to phase and get their attention. Emily sets down a cup of tea in front of you. "Thank you." You say and reach for it to take a sip.

You just want your Embry. Your handsome Embry who is all yours.

After five minutes, the door opens, and Embry runs to your side. "Baby, baby." He cooes and holds your red and wet face. His warm hands instantly make you feel better. His scent fills you with comfort. His shirt is off, and you observe his body. His brown eyes. His lips. His eyebrows. You reach and touch the tattoo on his shoulder. "Baby, I'm sorry. I just really need you tonight." You sniffle. He gives you a caring smile with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Let's go home. I'll hold you all night." He kisses your lips softly. You turn into a puddle.

Actually, wait. You feel a puddle underneath you. You pull away from his lips and look down. The couch is soaking wet. "Oh god! This is happening!" Embry stands up. Everyone starts gathering their stuff and get ready to take you to the hospital.

[rock-the1st]

NO HOME CHAPTER 267 SPOILERS

Fuckign hell I can’t…

The thing that always broke me abt Eunyung was how the moments he had to go back to his parents house he always imagined himself going to the dorms. The path, the sun, coming to a warm home…

Him admitting all this is so emotional to me. I think this is such an important chapter to show his growth. Haejoon’s as well of course….gah damn I can’t get over his little self talkin about eunyung with his mom😭😭

“Ive always thought that I wasn’t anything like you, but he said he can see you when he looks at me.”

“…Mom, I Guess a part of you is with me. That’s why I don’t dislike myself as much anymore.”

AND WHAT IF I BAWL MY EYES OUT GAH DAMN 😭😭‼️💥

Damn really I love them so much