#and i just think like. if we can’t move away from‚ like‚ cold gender war how the fuck do we move forward

[aeide-thea]

still thinking abt the tumblrinx i encountered a while back whose pinned post said they were transmasc… and also demanded that men dni

like—i’m not confused by the convoluted not-like-the-other-boys doublethink that gets you there, i can follow the chain of illogic just fine, but i sure am deeply wearily depressed by it!

#i know plenty of good men—good cis men even! gasp! #and i just think like. if we can’t move away from‚ like‚ cold gender war how the fuck do we move forward #fundamentally like. 100% block people who have behaved towards you in ways you didn't like. #but like. this whole thing where ~afabs~ preemptively self-victimize by conjuring up the creepiest cishet man they can imagine #and self-harm by worrying abt that imaginary guy jacking off to them #is just like. i understand how it happens but it’s like. you’re actively doing negative visualization #and‚ like‚ preemptively self-victimizing #ime it feels a lot better to move through the world unworried‚ in the knowledge that if someone says sth gross to you: you can block them! #anyway ultimately i’m pretty clearly making this post bc i'm overdue to unfollow the tirfiest blogger i’m currently following #like. yeah loads of cishet men are shitheads but ~misandry~ is so last decade #and frankly i don’t have a lot more time for the cishet women who have bought into the same system—like i have some sympathy but. #these people all get warped by the system into complementary fucked-up cogs whose teeth bite into one another #and i’m just not interested in biting back—i want to leave all the biting behind in the dust of the junkyard that birthed it #and like. i don’t want to dismiss the oppression that births this sort of rhetoric. it's super real and it's toxic and it fucks people up. #but it’s like. when people have bad dads and then are like Dads R Always Bad!!! #and i’m just over here like. i don’t know how to say this without sounding like i’m invalidating you but my dad was a fucking saint tbh #not perfect dgmw but like. a sweet gentle encouraging man who got ground down by my mother’s toxic heel along with the rest of us #so like. actually not only are you closing yr eyes to a better future‚ yr closing yr eyes to other ppl’s lived realities #like i personally managed to have a totally life-ruining mother without deciding Mothers Are Ontologically Evil Actually! #idk. obviously women remain *enormously* systemically oppressed! but surely we can acknowledge and decry that without #implicitly rhetorically closing off any possibility of a gentler queerer gender dynamic? #anyway none of this is revolutionary i’m just like. i KNOW the fascists want to cut off my toes and force me into the glass slipper #of viciously constrained femininity #that in turn makes itself feel better by sneering at men‚ critiquing other women who Do It Wrong‚ and exerting control over children #so i have strong personal cause to care about misogyny even if i didn’t care about it in the abstract #but i just think like. acting like traditional gender roles and dynamics are a fixed truth we can only bruise ourselves on #instead of a human construction that we can undermine and work to topple #is not actually the path to a healed world in the long run! #anyway. beta edition post (thumbtyped & not reread): may contain bugs.

[swtki]

Dancing Days - Edward Cullen x Reader Smut

Anonymous said: 19&24 on edward smut? love ur writing!

A/N: Thank you so much :) also I’m so happy everyone is h*rny for Eddy. I decided I want to explore more period times with Edward, changing his persona in a certain decade, but still ultimately being in the same universe as cannon. This will play into the readers character a tad bit.

WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, SWEARING, S*X, VAMPIRES, ORAL SEX (MALE RECIEVING), VIRGIN! EDWARD, NON VIRGIN READER, GENDER NEUTURAL READER, MENTIONS OF WAR AND DEATH. 

19: “Fuck me like you want people to know”.

24. “Thing is, I’m a virgin”. 

_______________________________________

I brushed my hair into its usual part, making sure I looked flawless. The year was 1976, I was a senior in Highschool. It was a wonderful time to be a teenager, no longer afraid that my friends would die in Vietnam. Even in my dinky little Washington town, the culture was becoming our own. 

The Led Zeppelin record playing on my record player stopped suddenly, alerting me that I was no longer alone in my room. I turned, my expression soft as I saw my boyfriend, Edward.

“Whats up with you and this album? Everytime I come in, its always House of Th Holy on repeat.” I rolled my eyes, lifted the record in question off of the tray, and put it back snuggly in its case. 

“I can’t help it, Ed. Robert just speaks to me. I’m sure you’re like that with Louis Armstrong.” I waved my hand, walking back to my mirror to finish getting ready. 

“Maybe, but the music you listen to it’s...” Edward paused for a moment, sitting on my bed. “It’s suggestive, Y/N.” I turned to him, my eyebrow raised.

“Suggestive? What’s that supposed to mean?” I placed my hands on my hips, and waited for him to explain.

“Well, for one that one song says ‘Sipping booze’, I quite think that is blatant alcohol reference.” I looked at him, dumbfounded. Then, I started to laugh, and I walked over to him. Instinctually, he pushed his head into my chest, enjoying the comfort it brought him. 

“I love you, but god are we from two different Mars.” He chuckled, sending a rumble through my chest.

At school, I was an average kid. Fair grades, many friends, many ex friends. When Edward was paired up with me in math, I got through his cold, stone skin. At first, he was annoyed when I would fuck off, leaving him to do the work himself. Understandable, and once I realized how rude I was, I stopped. I talked to him, prodded him truthfully. I would ask him once we started dating if he had noticed me previously, because I had never noticed him. 

“Yes, I noticed that you were the only one who didn’t acknowledge me. Ironic I guess.” 

A year into our relationship, I would never let him go unnoticed. We walked the halls, hand in hand. Our outlooks were so different when it came to life. He was modest, I was free spirited. Edward was different from my boyfriends previously, I didn’t want to fuck things up, and I refused to even risk it. 

School went slowly that day, possibly because my head was focused on what I would ask Edward, my boyfriend of one year, about sex. About us and sex. 

I hadn’t told him that I wasn’t a virgin, I was worried he would only want a virgin girl, after all they can never look at you disappointed and say “I’ve had better.” A definite plus. Many a nights I tried to imagine him, moaning completely under my control. I wanted him, but I didn’t know if he wanted me. Surely in 50 years he had found a good fuck. I worried that he would be into someone else, forever tied to a vampiress. 

The end of the school day couldn’t have come sooner, my anxiety rising as I got into Edwards car, starting a long silent car ride. I tried to keep my mind off of it, an attempt to avoid the conversation until we were at my house. I kept my mind busy with the lush scenery outside of the passenger side window. 

“So... I know you want to ask me, and I know the answers to what I would ask you.” He said blatantly, putting the car in park outside my front lawn. 

“I don’t wanna talk out here Ed, lets go inside.” I swung my bag onto my shoulder. Thats the thing with Edward, I never have to say anything, just as long as I think it. 

My house was empty, making it easy for Edward to follow me upstairs to my room. I shut my door behind us, then turned to him. Unsure of what to say, I breathed in deeply.

“How long have you known that I wasn’t...you know?” He smiled, sitting on my plush navy sheets. 

“Y/N, I knew before I met you what I was getting into. Your ex had a lot of thoughts about that one night where you guys-” 

“Oh my god okay ew.” A blush rose upon my face, and I saw Edward laugh as he watched my body fill with embarassment. “Well why didn’t you say something?” I asked.

“I figured if it needed to be brought up, it would be. You and I aren’t exactly a physical couple so I didn’t worry too much.” I walked over to my bed, taking a seat next to him.

“I see...I mean it wouldn’t be a big deal for me so if you want to...” I bit my lip at him, his gaze turned to the other direction.

“Thing is, I’m a virgin.” My expression went from a seductive look, to a puzzled one. I wondered if I had heard him correctly. “I’m old school, Y/N. It wasn’t like how it is now when I was human. People didn’t just have sex in highschool, unless they were married because the man was off to war. So, it hasn’t been on the menu for me. You’re the first girl I’ve dated in fifty years, you know. And no, there was no vampiress or anything.” I smiled.

“Well, I don’t wanna scare you or push it or anything. It’s just you know-” 

“You want to touch me, to be touched by me.” his eyes trailed back to mine, looking deep into my soul.

“Yes, I want you, Edward.” I pressed my lips to his, pulling away jut as it got intense. I could feel his disappointment. “I want to...but I can’t let you down. Tomorrow night. I’ll call you and we can talk about everything we want out of it, I’ll give you a fucking fairytale, my love” I chuckled.

I called him that night as I had said I would. We talked about my first time, and everything I liked, followed by what he had seen on video, what he wanted to try, and his fears.

“I don’t want to kill you, darling.” He said.

“Then don’t. I won’t let you.” He laughed at me, enjoying my lack of seriousness.

The next night rolled along with a quick pace. I looked at the clock and saw that it was time for me to start getting ready. 

I made myself look simple, a small bit of makeup and hair product, but otherwise just a tank top and jeans. Sometimes, dating an old fashioned guy was a pain in the ass. Always complaining about suggestive behavior. But other times, my shoulders counted as being half nude.

“You look stunning, as per usual.” Edward said, stepping into my room. He was tense and barely moved. “I don’t know what to do..what usually happens with it if I’m not the one doing everything.”

If he had any blood flow, he would have been blushing right about then.

“We don’t have to do anything you know. We can just lay down and watch a movie if you want to, I just want to make you happy, Edward.” I walked over to him and put a strand of his messy auburn hair behind his ear. Without hesitation, he pressed his forehead to mine.

“I want to, thats the part that’s been eating me away ever since I met you. I want to make you feel good, I just don’t know if I’ll lose it and-“ I cut him off with a kiss.

“Even if you break my pelvis into pieces, I’ll still be happy. I’m always happy when I’m with you.” we both smiled, and suddenly the thick tension that once filled the room vanished. “I’ll take care of you tonight, just as long as you’re doing it for you. I just need to know you’re doing this for you, and you need to be sure you wont roll over afterwards and hate me.” I said, my hand clasped in his marble one.

“I want you, Y/N. I have no doubts that I’ll want you afterwards, too.”

I pushed his head down, level to my own. Our kiss was deep, filled with a years worth of hunger. My hands tugged on his hair, making him whimper. Suddenly, I felt my feet lift off the ground as Edward carried me to my bed. With a soft thump, the plush sheets surrounded my body. It was a contrast of warmth on my back, and Edwards cool body on my top.

His hands were balled into fists, clutching my duvet as if his life depended on it. I pulled away, panting for air.

“Sorry, I forget you need air.” He smirked. I rolled my eyes in response.

“Well, its a shame you don’t. Because I intend on taking your breath away.” we both made small laughs at my remark.

“What now?” He looked at me for guidance.

“Get on your back.” I said.

We switched positions, he was now on the bottom. My legs straddled his torso, I sight he visably enjoyed. I slithered my hands up to his head, cupping his face as I kissed him again. My left hand left its post, reaching down to the buttons on his shirt.

I paused, looking up at him once I got to the last button.

“Does it...work like normal or...” He threw his head back and laughed.

“It doesn’t have spikes, I can assure you its just like a humans. But Emmet did tell me to pull out so...I’m kind of worried about the implications of that but-“ I leaned down to shut him up with a kiss.

His hands were still at his side, resting on the bed. I picked up his wrists, and placed them on the side of my thighs. He squeezed them lightly.

My hands roamed over his bare chest, cool to the touch. I lached my lips onto his neck, causing his back to arch below me. I could feel his excitement beneath me, it gave me a big self esteem boost. His hand reached along my waist, tugging at my shirt. His eyes lit up at the sight of my bare chest. He reached for me but I pulled away to slide down onto my knees.

He looked confused, like I had left him high and dry.

“Sit on the edge.” I said softly, my knees burning slightly due to the rough carpet underneath them.

He rid himself of the unbottoned shirt, slidding over to me once finished. My hands slowly stroked his thighs, he was desperate for some type of touch.

I smiled, tugging on his belt until it came undone. He stayed silent, looking at me like I was the only thing in the world. I unbottoned the trousers, tugging on them. He kicked them off and was left in his breifs.

“Is it okay if I..” I looked up at him and he nodded frantically. I palmed him over his underwear, feeling how hard he had gotten from kissing. My fingers latched onto the waist band, pulling them down to reveal a pale yet pink cock. It wasn’t too big, but deffinitley satisfactory. I ran my finger over the tip, earning a small groan from the vampire. My eyes trailed up to him, so I could see him when I took him in my mouth.

He let out a breathy moan, eyes focused on my mouth. His lips were parted ever so slightly. I bobbed my head, and grotesquely sexual sounds arose from my throat. I felt Edward move a strant of hair out of my face, he looked at me like I was a god.

“Fuck..Y/N if you keep doing that there wont be anything for you, dear” He said in a breathy moan. I pulled back, my mouth feeling sore and tired. “Do you still want to?” He asked, grasping his hands on my waist.

“Yes, I fucking need you.” I threw off my jeans, I would worry about finding them later, I needed him. He layed back down, propping his head up on my pillows. Our lips collided in another kiss as I leveled myself with him.

“Are you sure?” I ask him, stroking his hard member.

“I’m sure.” He pecked my lips again as I got ontop of his lean figure. I spat in my hand, lubing up my needy hole.

“How do you want me to do this? I mean like slow? What do-“ He said with genuine worry.

“Fuck me like you want people to know” I whispered, “ Fuck me like you want the entire neighborhood to know that I’m yours and yours only.”

“I can make that happen, love.” He flipped me over, now being back to where we first started. He lined up his cock with my hole, running it around the tight area. I put my fingers in his hair, making a slight tug as he pushed into my body.

Pleasure filled my body as he filled me up, his cock stretched my insides in the right ways. Without pausing, he started to push his hips into mine, making sure not to hurt me.

He reached down to suck on my neck, adding to the pornagraphic moans in the room. My hands travled to his back, scratching my nails down the cold stone like skin. His moans echoed in my ear.

“Y/N, I can’t be on top I’m going to crush you” I laughed at him, tapping his side so he fell onto the bed. I swung my legs over him, sitting on his perfect cock.

“Perfect, fucking amazing.” He said as I steady myself onto him. His face was in a euphoric expression, the most relaxed I had ever seen him.

I began to rock my hips, sliding him in and out of me. His hands grabbed onto my hips, guiding me. Everything was a euphoric experience. My gut filled with that wonderful sensation.

“Edward I’m gonna cum, oh my god” I moaned out, picking up my pace.

Suddenly, the world went still. My eyes went black and I saw stars as my orgasm washed over me. My moans echoed in the room as my body twitched. A few thrusts up into my body and Edward pulled out of me, rubbing his cum out onto his hand.

I layed there panting while he sped to the bathroom, and came back with a clean cloth, wiping down my body. He put the cloth down, pulling up his underwear and handing me mine. I slipped the fabric on, slipping under the covers.

“Get in here, I wanna kiss you”

He laughed, obeying and slipping beside me. Our lips reunited in a soft clash.

“I love you so much, dear.”

#edward cullen #edward cullen x reader smut #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen smut #robert pattinson smut #robert pattinson #twilight shitpost #twilight headcanon #headcannons twilight #twilight fanfic #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale fanfic #carslile cullen #esme cullen

[quillsanddaydreams]

duty calls

hermione granger x reader

—author's note: This was requested by a lovely anon, I hope you like it love. It made me remember just how much I appreciate little things. So a fluffy story about a lazy day in bed which turns serious when Hermione shares some news.

—warning(s): mentions of food, nightmares and anxiety. gender neutral!reader (pronouns aren't used).

—word count: 1,053

You heaved a sigh, moving your limbs into a more comfortable position. Turning your head towards the right side of the bed, you noticed Hermione was still asleep. Brown curls messily framed her face. If she was awake, she would keep pushing them away in vain. It was only seldom you could find her as peaceful. Before you could stop yourself, you moved closer to her kissing her nose. It scrunched up, her eyes opening up in delight. Her hands found your waist, pulling you closer. Humming, she rested her face in the crook of your neck. You smiled.

“You know, I can never get used to this,” you said, your voice having a raspiness that comes after a good night’s sleep. “Waking up next to my gorgeous girlfriend.”

Hermione responded with a kiss to the collarbones. She groaned.

“Can’t we spend the whole day like this?” she said as pulled back, tugging a rather rampant curl behind her ear.

“Hey now, remember what we said about frowning?” you said as Hermione let out a giggle.

“That I don’t want me to die soon just because I wore a sore expression most of the time,” she beamed up at you. Cradling your face, she tugged you closer leaving a peck on your lips.

“Come on, I can make some blueberry pancakes,” you suggested as Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

Getting up lazily, you made your way over to the bathroom. Brushing your teeth and washing your face, you moved towards the small kitchen. Hermione joined you moments later, helping you do your apron. She hated cooking, even more so after she came back from her mission with Harry. Sitting up on the countertop, she watched you combine milk, sugar, and flour together. It was like a bubble. A beautiful bubble you two had created together, the one you didn’t want to escape. Like an unsaid promise, you and Hermione had found your own rhythm.

War had changed people. Even if it was calm, it was a strange one. Hermione still had nightmares just like Harry and Ron. She would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, clutching your hand for support. You wouldn’t go to bed after, because no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the scare out of her head. Getting up and putting on your favorite show, you would watch them with her, laughing and crying until sleep consumed you. Some scars never truly heal. Moments like these reminded you how you could still find happiness amongst your struggles.

Hermione was telling something about her workplace as reality grabbed your attention back.

“Huh?” you asked, disoriented. “I’m sorry, I was just thinking about something.”

Hermione gave you a kind smile.

“Harry came by yesterday,” she started. “He doesn’t want to be an Auror anymore.”

“He doesn’t?”

“Yes, he wants to teach.”

“Didn’t expect that,” you said, surprised. But then again, the DA club was the place where you learned the most.

You poured the batter into the pan, waiting for it to turn golden. Hermione grabbed some plates and glasses for juice. Finishing plating, you moved toward the small round table, digging in. It was mostly silent, except the wind chimes clinking at the window.

“You know,” Hermione started, biting her lip nervously. “Since Harry dropped out, someone would have to take his mission.”

Chewing the pancake slowly, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Okay?”

“And the ministry suggested that since I was the one who tracked do—”

“No,” you said pointedly before she could finish. “Don’t take that mission, Hermione, it's dangerous. Everyone advised Harry to give it up and for valid reasons might I add.”

“But it’s important information, if not me then who?”

“Anyone but you. Hermione please it was torturous enough when you left for the first time.”

Hermione put her hand over yours, squeezing.

“I know, but I came back safely didn’t I?”

“You and I have very different definitions of safe,” you shook your head, gulping and pulling your hand away. Hermione’s face fell further. “I am proud of you Hermione, I really am and I know you can handle yourself. But this? Walking into a death trap? How could you ask me to agree to this?”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth. You looked over at her, realization dropping in on you.

“You already agreed to it, didn’t you?” you inquired as she gave the smallest of nods.

It felt like the air was closing in on you. You blinked away tears. Pushing away your plate, you got up stalking towards the bedroom. Ignoring her pleas, you shut the door behind you. You needed some time to get yourself together. Sitting down on the bed, you looked at the palm of your hands. There was a knock at the door. Hermione came in after a few minutes of no response.

“Hey,” she whispered, kneeling down in front of you. You looked away. “I know it’s dangerous and that’s why we’ll have all kinds of backup. We’ll make sure we are as safe as possible.”

“And I’ll be back in a blink I promise. You won’t even know I was somewhere other than the ministry of magic.”

“Come on, at least look at me.”

“I know you’re not that angry at me, just sad about the situation. Stop acting like that,” she said as you tried your best not to let your expressions waver.

“Hey.”

You heard her take a deep breath.

“You want to play pretend? Well, two can play that game,” she said before holding your face so you could see her. “And right now, all I want is to kiss my lovely partner in crime assuming we just got up from eating a lovely breakfast and are happy about everything.”

Her lips found your forehead, moving down to your nose. A peck on the cheek and a hushed ‘I love you’ followed and you couldn’t help but lean into her touch.

“I love you so much, Hermione,” you said softly. Pressing her mouth against yours, she kissed you slowly making you melt. When you pulled back, it felt like you were in a daze. “I’m just so scared, you know?”

You looked up at her as she rested her forehead along with yours.

“I know,” she said. There was nothing quite simpler.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill ​ which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#hermione granger #hermione #hermione x reader #hermione granger x reader #hermione x you #hermione granger x you #hermione x y/n #hermione granger x y/n #hp #harry potter #from anu's quill #w|w #women of harry potter

[ichorai]

the golden daggers ; j.yh

pairing ; enemy!yunho x princet!reader

summary ; in which your kingdom is destroyed, and you come across a soldier from the enemy realm in the forest.

words ; 1.7k

warnings / includes ; mentions of death and weapons but nothing graphic, yunho being a lil shit but also being a softie </3

a/n ; here's my second drabble for @ficscafe's royalty drabble event !! fyi for those who don't know, princet is a gender-neutral term for prince / princess ! i might be turning this into a full-fledged fic, who knows 👀 special thanks to @minghaofilm and @subways-stuff and @gyukult for reading through and tolerating my onslaught of frustrated rambles <33

The brisk morning air whistled past you, brushing against your skin in a wintry kiss. With muted footsteps, you stepped over the forest foliage, gentle and cautious. You lifted your sleek wooden longbow, keeping the feather-tipped arrow nocked. Just in case.

In times like this, you couldn’t be more careful. There could be traps anywhere.

Your kingdom had only just collapsed yesterday. To be quite frank, you had no idea what you were going to do. Where was a royal princet to go once everything you knew burned to the ground?

The memory of smoke and flames still played vividly in your mind, a staggering mirage of harsh ambers and furious carmines and sooty blacks. The smell of death had filled your nostrils, slowly seeping into you, wrapping its grimy dark fingers around your heart as you sobbed over what you lost.

Death had poisoned you, and you just barely managed to pull away before it could see you choke.

That was last night. Today was going to be different. You had nothing left to lose now.

“Your Highness,” a voice rumbled from behind a nearby tree. With your heart thudding angrily against your ribcage, you swiveled around on your heels, watching the man stride out of the shadows with open arms. “Though, just how high could a princet be without their kingdom, hm?”

This man, evidently, was a soldier of your kingdom’s worst rivals. You could tell by the glimmering silver medallion he bore on his jacket, their intricate insignia etched precariously into the metal. Wars were fought for centuries, and thousands of battles found your nation victorious and proudly arrogant. Until… well, until last night.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you were the last survivor of your kingdom.

Without giving it a second thought, your pinched fingers let go of the arrow’s feather-tip end. It sailed through the short distance between the two of you with a resounding hiss, slicing through the air like a hot knife through butter.

A tumultuous concoction of apprehension and awe roiled about you as you watched the man pull two gold-encrusted daggers out of their scabbards, side-stepping at lightning speed and cutting down your arrow as if it were paper.

You paused for just a millisecond, before reaching behind for your quiver, grappling for another arrow. What a fool you were, thinking you could beat him in a game of speed. In just a blink of an eye, he stood in front of you, the cool metal of his dagger rested gently against your jugular. One wrong move, and you would be dead in a matter of minutes.

“I’m Yunho,” he murmured with a sinister grin, blowing a strand of dark hair away from his narrowed eyes. He practically towered over you, glancing down with a mischievous glint in his gaze.

You didn’t bother to grace him with a response, muscles frozen in place.

“Are you afraid of me, Your Highness?” He attempted once more, leaning down slightly to meet your angry stare. “I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me. Drop your bow.”

With a gentle huff, you slowly moved your hand away from the quiver, coming to slowly wrap around the wrist that held the dagger against you. It pained you to see that your own fingers were trembling uncontrollably. Were you afraid? You couldn’t quite tell. Yunho watched you with a strange look of curiosity, his pupils flitting from your ashen face to your nimble fingers, wondering just what you were planning to do next.

And that was when you jerked your head away, keeping his wrist still with an iron-grip, taking advantage of his momentary surprise. You hooked your leg around his buckling knees, shoving him backwards. Yunho fell onto the damp leaves of the forest floor with a pained groan.

Though he was a giant of a man, you managed to kick the daggers across the damp forest foliage, toeing them farther and farther away from his reach and pinning his hands above him as you situated yourself just above his hips.

“My, my,” Yunho crooned breathlessly, chest rising and falling just centimeters away from yours. “Never thought I’d be in a position like this with a princet of the enemy kingdom. You smell better than I expected. Is that fougère I detect? A hint of honeyed-peach eau, perhaps? Forgive me, it’s hard to tell underneath the stench of burnt fabric, Your Highness.”

“Shut up!” Were the first words you managed to snarl out. “You… you took everything from me.”

“And we had nothing to begin with, princet,” he murmured coolly from beneath you, regarding you with a well-hidden anger broiling in his narrowed gaze. It took all you had in you not to pummel your fists against his perfectly sculpted features. “Are you going to kill me? If so, I ask you to do it quickly. You don’t quite strike me as the torturing type.”

There was a tense pause lingering between the two of you as you huffed out a small breath, hanging your head in shame. It almost physically pained you to let go of his wrists as you clambered off of his larger frame.

“Thank you,” he said.

You remained silent, a frivolous symphony of death wailing into your ears. If you let him go now, you’d be a goner. And despite that, you knew that you hadn’t the courage to end his life.

After all… he had every right to be angry.

You curled your hands up into tight fists, balling up the wet leaves of the forest floor. Yunho watched you with bated breath, arching his eyebrows. “You know I have to take you in, right? You’ll be a prisoner for the rest of your life.” His question was asked softly, tentative. You were no longer the villain he thought you were.

“I know.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

Swallowing around your clogged throat, you bobbed your head once more. “I know.”

The two of you pushed yourselves off the damp floor. After you grabbed your longbow, he snagged his daggers (kicked an impressive distance away), then the two of you proceeded to stride through the forest in unvocalized tandem. Several times, he pried his lips open to say something, but promptly snapped his jaw back shut, a bashful expression gracing his features. You weren’t entirely sure where he was taking you, but you doubted that it’d be anywhere good for you. You could already picture the musty cell they’d throw you in.

Following several tepid seconds, Yunho spoke up to ask with a slight air of curiosity, “you had a chance to be free. Why didn’t you take it?”

You winced slightly, fiddling with the notched wood of your longbow. “I have nothing left, Yunho. What’s the point in running?”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed uneasily. A gentle breeze ran through the trees, tousling the withered foliate hanging on the gnarled branches. Bits of dead canopy fluttered downwards. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted a browning leaf catch against the strands of your hair, a minute frown marring your lips. You reached upwards to pluck out the weather-beaten frond, flicking it away in the midst of your silent brooding.

“Stop,” he commanded after a moment’s hesitation, lifting an arm to your abdomen to halt you mid-step. “I can’t… I can’t do this. You have to go.”

Incredulity seeped into your voice. “What?”

In frustration, the giant of a man carded his hands through his ink-hued locks, screwing his eyes shut.

“Yunho—!”

“I’ll pretend like I never saw you. Please, just go. Get on a boat and sail far away from here.” He paused to unsheath one of his gold-encrusted daggers, glinting almost maliciously against the filtered sunlight. You had to hold in a gasp when he held the hilt out to you, gesturing for you to take it. “I hope to never see you again, princet.”

With nimble hands, you slowly curled your fingers against the handle, the cut-jagged gems cold against your skin. You twirled the blade with surprising agility, and Yunho almost found himself grinning at your natural talent.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you letting me go?” You couldn’t help but be slightly suspicious.

Yunho refused to meet your gaze, shame sitting heavily on his shoulders. “I… I don’t want to hurt you. I wasn’t lying when I said that before. You lost everything, and it’s my Kingdom’s fault. My people are proud, and they don’t want to admit when they’re wrong. For that, Your Highness, I’m sincerely sorry. I just… I don’t want to be the reason you’re rotting away in prison.” One of his hands reached out to grasp yours, laying his warm palm over both the dagger and your knuckles. You almost flinched backwards, eyeing him warily. “If you head far enough east to where no soul knows of ridiculous trivialities like Kingdoms and royalty lines, you can… you can start over. No titles, no responsibilities, no ties. I’m giving you a chance to leave behind your bloody past. You’ll be safe. Or, as safe as one can be in these times.”

When he slipped his hands away from yours, you could almost feel all of his warmth pull away. Reality seemed to sink into your consciousness, and you also staggered backwards, sucking in deep breaths of cold forest air.

“Thank you, Yunho,” you whispered, clutching his dagger and your bow. “I won’t ever forget about this.”

He dipped his head just slightly, the smallest of smiles quirking his lips upward. “Have a safe journey, princet. I know I said I hoped I’d never see you again, but… I don’t think it’d be too awful, would it?”

“Far from awful, soldier.” You were pleasantly surprised to find genuine mirth coloring your words.

You were well aware of Yunho’s gaze piercing holes into the back of your neck. There was a queer concoction of relief and dread roiling about in your stomach. Nonetheless, you swiveled on your heel, thumbing the grooves and bumps of the sleek dagger he had given you, striding away from the enemy who let you go.

#ficscafe #ficscafe royalty drabble event #ateez x reader #yunho x reader #ateez yunho x reader #jung yunho x reader #ateez fanfictions #yunho fanfictions #ateez fanfic #yunho fanfic #ateez royalty au #ateez angst #ateez fantasy au #ateez x you #yunho x you #ateez yunho x you #ateez imagines #ateez drabbles #yunho imagines #yunho drabbles

[hansoulo]

how will I know; walk slow

Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader (gender neutral, no Y/N)

Word Count: a humble 1.4k

Warnings: cursing, light angst, a kiss (sorta), spoilers for chapter 15 of the mandalorian

Gif Credit: (x) by @/bestintheparsec

A/N: hello bros and hoes it is me and i am back with another oneshot this time set right after chapter 15 with a title from this song by james blake

You bounded down the hangar ladder and stood toe-to-toe, heart stuck in your mouth and lodging up in your tonsils until the word came out thick and without eloquence. “Hi.”

“I’m sorry,” the Mandalorian offered. He didn’t really have anything to be sorry for. Sometimes the guy was just polite to a fault.

“It’s alright.” The words left your chest hushed, conscious of the footsteps up and around you that echoed tinny on the walls of Slave 1. Soft assurances. Gentle platitudes. “You’re here now, yeah?”

Mayfeld was “dead” doing Maker knows what. Fennec and Cara were both off in the ship somewhere, probably polishing blasters and trading war secrets with each other as intimidating Outer Rim women tended to do. That or in the communications monitor room below deck, doing far more risque things. Boba was piloting and making sure none of you died. And the Mandalorian was here. Standing in the cold metal cargo hold. In front of you.

His chest, in beskar now, not that shoddy Imperial shit, shook with a sigh. “Yeah,” the helmet rasped. It sounded like he was speaking more to himself. “Yeah.”

Why do you do that?

   Do what?

You’re very… monosyllabic. It’s unsettling.

   Unsettling.

You know you’re just continuing to prove my point, right?

   Mhm.

Maker, you’re infuriating.

   Yes, I am.

Hey that was three words! Progress.

Your throat tightened with a swallow when you realized you still stood only inches apart from him. Feet shuffled backwards in the small hangar until he was left at a larger, more friend-appropriate distance. “That’s good. I’m… I’m glad.”

The air in the ship was thick, with relief and with another heavy thing. Regret, maybe? But what did he have to regret?

“Mando,” you called out as he turned to step up the ladder. Names were sacred things. You didn’t want to use his here. To dirty it by sharing. “Hey,” your hand met the cold metal of his pauldron, urging him to face you again. He was still. Always so still. “Did something happen?”

   I’m fine.

You’re hurt.

   It’s nothing serious.

Let me help. 

   I’ll take care of it.

Or let the kid help. Somebody.

   I said I’ll take care of it.

Let me take care of you. Please. 

His words came almost too quick. He was like that when he tried to convince you of things. “No. No, we… we got the coordinates. Everything went-”

“According to plan,” you finished for him, though your brows were still furrowed.

What’s the plan?

   We get the kid back.

So… what you’re saying is that there is no plan.

   There is a plan.

What’re you gonna do?

   Whatever it takes.

You’re so dramatic.

“Mayfeld wouldn’t tell me anything about what happened before he fucked off, though, which is weird because usually he never shuts up and I just...” you sighed, wiping a hand across your face and letting it drop unceremoniously beside your hip. “Are you sure you’re alright? You look,” and here your voice paused, waiting for the words to fill themselves in. “Rattled.”

You look like shit.

   Thanks.

Welcome. You good?

   You just said I look like shit.

Well yeah, but I’m trying to redeem myself. Throw me a bone.

   Then yeah, I’m good.

You’re a horrible liar.

   Hey, you asked.

Yeah, I guess so. Take it easy for a bit? Can’t have you falling asleep piloting.

   Glad to know your only concern is for your transportation.

Don’t forget the paycheck.

   That too.

Seriously, though. Go get some sleep. I’ll be here.

There was a pregnant pause, only filled in by your quiet expectance and the sounds of beskar shifting on fabric. He moved his weight from one foot to the other. Looked down, then up.

And then, before you could go to actually leave, not wanting to pry a thing open that the man wanted to keep shut and done with having to reach the words out of his mouth, you were picked up and turned around. Like a sack of ration flour. 

In literally any other circumstance this would’ve made you seethe but Din’s hands, although surprising, weren’t unwelcome. The furthest thing from it, actually.

There were two warm palms on your sides and your feet stumbled on top of each other until they both left the floor again, suspended above the metal sheeting as you were lifted up and crushingly close to a man that smelled like blood and sweat and someone else’s clothes but who still held you until your ribs cried out for breathing. 

You were set down after a moment, but not let go. Silent words seemed to fracture in the way his fingers dug into the skin of your hip, almost bruising in their insistence. He couldn’t tell you what happened, but something obviously did. Something ugly and beating loud in the two-inch gap between your chests and really, really bad.

There were only about two things in the galaxy that he was afraid of. Losing the kid was one of them. Breaking his Creed was the other.

So what’s with the helmet?

   What about it?

You can never take it off?

   No.

Like, never? In front of anyone?

   Not unless it’s family.

And what happens if you do? Take it off in front of someone else, I mean.

   You can’t ever put it back on.

Oh, right. Sorry.

   It’s okay.

No, it’s not. I- I shouldn’t have asked. I dunno. It just seems…

   Bad. 

No, not bad! Not if it’s something you believe. Just… different. 

And suddenly you knew why he was holding you the way he was.

The words were hitched, almost keening as your arms wound around his neck, over the thick fabric of his cape until his hands reached around the lower slope of your back to steady your ground. You could feel the indentations of his metal vambraces against your skin. You couldn’t have cared less about it. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. He only let out a breath, the sound so rattled and tremulous you could almost taste the salt dew gathering in his eyes. Eyes that someone else saw.

The muscles of his arms grew firmer around you still and your body sagged, heavy in its aching realizations. “I’m so sorry,” you repeated.

To someone else more ambitious this would probably be a good time to do… a gesture. Of the sentimental variety. Neither of you lacked courage in the traditional definition, but this kind of stuff was messy. Uncharted. 

“Din,” you whispered. His helmet shot up at the monosyllable, nearly knocking you in the chin and you stumbled backwards, shaking off his apologies. So the charting of said uncharted stuff was going swell. “I,” you began, your eyes shifting around the walls and floor instead of meeting his visor. “I care about you. A lot. I hope you know that.”

There was a loud whirring overhead when the ship lurched forward, righting itself with an awkward turn and giving you a good excuse as to why you suddenly felt nauseous. Maybe you overstepped or he didn’t hear you because he hit his head? Holy shit, did he get a concussion? Was that why he was-

“I know.”

Oh.

So no concussion.

You only realized you’d been biting the bottom edge of your lip when a gloved thumb came up towards it, pressing against the soft flesh and pulling it gently out from between your teeth. A breath choked in the bottom of both your lungs. And you waited.

You couldn’t kiss him.

At least, not now. Not here. Not yet.

You were both thinking about it.

So you did something decidedly ambitious. You leaned forward and pressed your mouth to the crest of his helmet.

It wasn’t a kiss, not really. But he still tilted his helmet up to meet it with two broad hands and you still left a smudge of mouthmark where your lips were damp and tender and so somehow this imitation kiss, this substitute in between a moment that was over and a moment that was coming, was real. 

Your bounty hunter echoed his reciprocation after you’d turned away, the rungs of the ship ladder icy in your palms. You always did like to one-up each other.

“I love you.”

#i spent like a half hour googling slave 1 diagram maps and the ship layout is still incomprehensible to me so pls dont hate i am Trying #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian oneshot #din djarin oneshot #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian spoilers #?

[lovetendencies]

GEORGE WEASLEY in WITH OR WITHOUT YOU.

TW / DEATH, MISCARRIAGE!

you’ve hopped out of bed, grabbing a nearby fuzzy cardigan that helped you get warm on most summer days when it was breezy and cold.

george, once again, wasn’t at your side when you woke up. it’s been two years since the war and this has been going on far too long yet you couldn’t confront him, you weren’t going to. he was grieving and mourning and making up the time the day he found out he lost his twin, his other half.

you wish you could do something, anything, but what you did was never enough. your efforts were in vain, he stood where he was looking down at the earth as if it swallowed his other self hole, when in reality — it didn’t. fred, your brother in law, you sensed as he was here with george.

not once leaving his side as you both remembered clearly they promised when you had overheard them one night at the gryffindor common room, when you had first met them, the same two first years that no one would know would become one.

you’ve called in molly, his family, and ask for what you could do. but yet, even they didn’t know what to do either as they lost one of their own twins as well. you didn’t know what to do as well when you had remembered clearly that fred was just as brother to you, nothing more and nothing less, he’s always been behind your back whenever you were upset and felt weak when george wasn’t there to take your place.

to add, he was right beside you once you’ve learned you were pregnant, and had miscarried the baby. he was running to each sides of you and george, patting your back, rubbing up and down in circular motions, kissing your forehead as that’s how close you two were. he’d tend to your needs and george’s as nobody did his. you felt guilty of taking advantage of the kindness and goofiness that he radiated — similar to george, only too much.

george sat on the cherry red sofa, his knees tucked in his chest as he had stood still there for a good minute. the more as time went on, the less tears he shed. you couldn’t do anything about it. even on your wedding day with george, he had kept a spot open, fred’s wand on the ground behind him as his best man, he was still in a large period of depression.

then, as you stood there, you felt and smelled fred’s scent on your shoulder. the way he’d squeeze your shoulder for a second, leaning his chin against his hand, and you heard him whisper in a soft tone. go comfort my brother, please, for he needs you most. and that was last of what you heard of him, his scent washing away into the air of cinnamon from last nights baking molly and the others came over for, a family outing.

he’s vulnerable as we all are. we’re still not over the greatest loss and tragedy and happiness we’ve all experienced. please, take care of my last twin, he loves and needs you the most. you remembered molly speaking to you last night, eyeing down george as he was out in the yard with bill, charlie, ron, percy, ginny, and his in laws as they were setting up the tables as tradition.

for the first time in a long one, you’ve seen george cry in the arms of his parents, brothers and youngest sister, rubbing the back of his nieces and nephews. and, it has been so long, since you’ve seen him smile. the things you’d give up to see him smile again with you, his family.

you fidgeted with the end of your maroon cardigan, slowly inching towards the sofa as you caught his hand, he had attempted to inch away but in time you’ve caught him. you’ve heard, not just that, you’ve felt that your marriage was dying. “you can leave if you really want to, my love,” george whispered, gripping onto your hand, his nails digging as if what he said didn’t mean anything.

“because i’ve felt that i’m dead already, without him by my side, who am i?” he whispered yet he still remained a cold exterior. “am i just the inferior twin that everyone sees as fred now? am i nothing when i’ve already lost what was my entire world?” it ached your heart as you’ve heard him say his entire world but you should’ve known better, his world didn’t evolve around you, it was his twin who was beside him all throughout his life.

now, he had just disappeared; truly, you didn’t know what to say, and slowly you’ve noticed george pulling away from you the more you hadn’t. he was your brother too. you were the only one who had noticed who when you were at hogwarts with them, sharing almost the same classes. it ached your heart.

“tell me, do you think i’m still worthy when i’m just one person? two people we once were.” he had grilled onto your hand longer and harder, hinting that you didn’t have to say anything, as if the silence was the one thing that said everything. “i pray to merlin everyday that i don’t wake up and i’m with him,” he had burst out crying. “but i feel that he doesn’t want me with him. as if he wants me to finish our lives together as one, to continue on without him,”

“even when he’s gone, i still feel him. he’s not. he’s truly not! he’s still here!” he had yelled out. “i’m not going to leave you. i never will. yet i want to leave to be with fred, he must be scared alone in an unknown place, and i want to go,” he finally had the courage to look up from his legs, looking at you with the most swollen and teary eyed george you’ve ever seen since your miscarriage with his baby.

“i’m not going to leave, i promise that. i’ll finish what me and him had always bet against each other, and for once, i think i’d be a better twin than he was,” he chuckled under his shaking and trembling free right hand, a ring he had taken off and put on the nearest coffee table. “i’m just terrified. i don’t want to live without him as long as i’m still alive. i feel like something has been torn out of my chest, that i shouldn’t be here anymore, that i’m nothing more than just trash!”

at that, you’ve forced george into an embrace, whether he wanted it or not. you caressed his red bed hair, kissing his forehead, imitating fred’s actions in hopes he’d notice. you pressed him against your breasts, he had fiddled with his fingers with pure anxiety, no hate had radiated from him even in your guys’ darkest arguments of all.

he was always sad all the time. that’s what he was most of his life — you’ve known he felt like he was a shadow in his very own brother and he had risked all the unhappiness just so fred could be happy, as you’ve felt with your oldest brother by two years but this wasn’t about him or your story, it was all about george who had your attention. all of it. he wasn’t alone.

“i’m sorry, my darling,” you whispered, tears staining through your cardigan and your white classic tshirt george had bought you as a goofy present one christmas day at hogwarts. “i can’t fill that place fred left, i never can and i never will. i’m sorry i’ve been tearing at your heart each time we’ve tried for a child when you hadn’t wanted to,” george, at this time, had wrapped his arms around you. you were on his lap, his head still against your breasts as he had continued to cry on and on as it felt like for hours.

“i really am trying,” he whispered, sniffles and hiccups starting to arise in his chest as a result from crying too much. “i did want a child even if we weren’t old enough. i was hoping, god, i fucking was!” he had held onto you tighter and tighter by the second, feeling a burning sensation in your ribs as if he was about to break them.

it was then until you’ve smelt him again, fred, he stood on his knees at the end of george, his head on his hands. i’m sorry i’ve put too much pain on you. as if his actions were words, george had seemed to felt, heard, and smell him. the same old firework smell, the squeaking in the soles of his shoes each time he walked, and the way he would give a small pinch. i’m doing better now, you can move on.

it still felt as though the past haunted you and george the most since that night.

it took him a year with difficult anxiety, anger and such to finally find himself once again, he wore a happy face that molly, arthur and his family was delighted to see, and you knew too that she was picturing fred and george side by side. as if they never really left each other, you’ve believed as she did, that fred was still here. he hadn’t left. all this time, he stayed to see until his family was happy.

you’ve rubbed your stomach in circular motions, swollen with a baby, that had made your back hurt constantly but you didn’t care. that child, george’s, was going to be so loved as everyone celebrated that gender reveal party. the confetti and cake being split at the same time, the colour pink, his smile had widened into an even bigger one. “nothing is gray anymore, mom, dad!” you’ve heard him fall into the arms of his parents, his hair in their faces as they rubbed his back.

lastly he had allowed you to fall in his hysterically, the large baby bump you’ve carried to the last term. you believed, as well, that your first child with george was with fred all this time. hand in hand, growing older with his uncle, and not knowing whether or not he had parents. that it was up to fred to say every untold story that weren’t from you and george.

“i still miss him, i do, i do, i do, i do!” he buried his face in your neck, turning you around to wrap his hands around your belly, you’ve seen harry with ginny and his children playing along the grass, bill and fleur with their own as well as ron and hermione children playing with their cousins. it made your heart beat and beat faster as george planted a kiss on your neck. “i still can’t live without him. and yet, i’ve got another reason to live on, to continue, that’s you — the woman who i thought would give up on me if i kept mourning and grieving. and lastly, the baby girl, that i’ve hoped would’ve been a boy so i could name him fred but i love either way, born or not,”

ginny and hermione had smiled over to you and george. it was that kind of smile saying i’m proud of you, you’re doing such a good job. and it made you happier in the moment.

you wanted to stay in the moment longer but everyone had gotten ready to leave, fleur had kissed your cheek and wished you, george, and the baby well. as bill, he gave you a smile, that same stupid smile george would flash in his happiest moments and without a hug the weasleys and their children had left (without bills children waving and picking daisies to put behind your ear).

hermione had given you and george a baby present when it was well over-due, and you had realized, it was the same baby sweater you half knitted and thrown away when you two were in the gryffindor common room, relaxing, chatting along with ginny who had shared her own laughs. all along, she had kept it and continued it for you, it had made you want to cry. ron had given you a kiss on the cheek, embracing you tightly as they too with children, had left to their own homes. another set of weasleys gone but never permanently.

it was lastly that ginny had cried into your shoulder, george and harry had inched away as you two could have the moment together. “thank you for taking care of my brother,” she whispered, her embrace hard and firm but it softened a second later once she remembered you were pregnant. “i’ve doubted you before in taking care of him. but i’ve seen what you do to him, you got him completely around your finger, the way he looks at you makes me envious as harry doesn’t do the same,” you two had laughed. “he looks at you with such admiration, tenderness, and as if what was lost hadn’t left after all,” for the last time since your birthing, she had given you a kiss on the forehead, whispering an i love you.

it was now, harry’s turn, after everyone had done you and george. he had tightly hugged george, it felt like cement being crushed on him as he would say. but a hug spoke more than words. i love you, thank you for not giving up. as if it was meant for you and it did the moment he added the extra minute unlike george. the potters had left, their children waving you and george good-bye with their tiny hands, and your heart ached further more for your baby girl to already be born.

“i love you, my daughter,” molly whispered, arthur and george joining in the hug with an expression. one that said that everyone was finally in peace. and for a split second, you’ve thought you seen fred bending down against a tree, and a girl who had red hair playing with a flower. your first baby, you and george’s, was a beautiful girl with long hair. after that, you’ve felt more at peace and happier, that he was with the child you miscarried taking care of one and another, healing. “don’t have that baby just yet, okay?” arthur rubbed your back with a joking smile.

and at that, they all had left.

“what should we do now, my love?” he asked, hovering over you while planting a kiss on your forehead. “interested in going down to the dock to see the sunset more clearly?” you suggested with a smile and he, happier than ever, had agreed.

#george weasley #george weasley angst #george weasley one shot #romance #george weasley imagine #wizarding war #wizarding world #harry potter #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley has a kid lol

[sampologist]

🔞 the games you play - lucifer x reader

has ; VERY minor brat / brat tamer dynamics. gender neutral / you pronouns notes ; this feels like i’m playing dolls with someone and they’re like “lucifer is a brat tamer dom!!” and i’m like “no he’s a soft service top!” and we just play tug of war with the plot. ALSO more sensual than sexual but what can you do you know? // minors DNI!

After a strenuous day, the last thing Lucifer wanted to do was clean up the messes of his brothers, only to find that they managed to rope you into their trouble. His brothers were a lost cause in terms of reformation- his punishments only served to delay the inevitable return to trouble. But you were supposed to be far more reasonable, a beacon of hope in his life where previously only chaos reigned.

(Of course, you would always be the spark of hope that refused to die in his cold, black heart, but the way your face crumpled when you even thought he might be disappointed in you was too cute not to encourage.)

So after you've cleaned up your mess, he makes you stand in his office and wait for him to finish with his brothers. Demonic punishments would be deadly for a human - that's the thing excuse that gets passed between the other inhabitants for the house. But as you shuffle your feet and twiddle your thumbs, doing your best to look desolate, you can't help but remind yourself that nobody is truly fooled by this act.

When Lucifer enters the room, you immediately straighten out your posture, knowing he saw how you were slumped before. He tsks and stands behind you, making sure you can feel his body heat without being able to touch. The only contact you get is a firm hand on your shoulder, keeping you straight when you try to lean back into him. It’s gone all too soon.

“Really,” He says, feigning exasperation. You’ve played this game too many times to think that either of you were particularly convincing actors. “After all that, you can’t even pretend to be a little sorry?”

“What do I have to be sorry for?” You ask, looking unperturbed as he begins circling you slowly, like a predator to prey. Or, more accurately, as if he were trying to examine every angle of a masterpiece. No matter what he liked to think, he was horrible at hiding his utter devotion.

No matter what you liked to think, you were horrible at hiding how eager you were to give him exactly what he wanted.

He lists off your transgressions, but you aren’t listening. You’re distracted by the way his coat moves with his steps, then by its absence when he sheds it and places it carefully on his chair. You wonder if he’s purposely stripping for you or if he’s simply hot. You’re certainly feeling warm, but you know there’s more at play for you than just hellfire. 

“...And you can’t even pay attention when I’m right in front of you. How insolent.”

His fingers are gripping your chin, his face is too close to yours, his breath is ghosting over you - and yet you know you cannot touch. You have an urge to give in, to flip the script and start begging, to give him whatever he wants. Part of you wonders why he puts up with this - he has enough backlash during the day, and no amount of him allowing you to serve him at night will feel like enough.

But, for whatever reason, what he wants is this, so you will give him a fight and hope he finds it worth it in the end.

“If you want it so much, maybe you should just make me sorry,” You say. It’s a cliche, of course, but it’s also a terrific idea. There’s no need to tiptoe around what both of you want, so now that you’ve set the stage, it’s time to start the scene.

Unlike many may think, Lucifer's sadism isn't enacted with whips and bruises and harsh words. He hurts you in the way he rewards you for your troublemaking, indulges you despite how undeserved it may be. His generosity stings when all you've done is take away the little time he has to relax, and yet Lucifer is the devil that keeps on giving. Although he is a demon now, he was an angel first, and traces of the true self do not fade out so easily, no matter the facade one puts forward.

So when he leads you to his room, you whine loud enough for him to demand your silence, and you whine again. When he tells you to lean back and not to touch, the first thing you do is put your hands on his shoulders and grin. When he tells you not to keep your noises to yourself, you bite your lip on purpose. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to convince yourselves that you aren’t entirely devout, enough to pretend that you haven’t lost sight of where one of you ends and the other begins.

His hands run hot trails down your sides, and you lift your hips for him on instinct. He has to pull away from you to smile, and you give your most convincing whine of the night. You don’t have too much time to complain, because suddenly he’s hitting just the right spot, filling you up so nicely and you can think of nothing else but how it’s good and everything you’ve wanted.

“Isn’t this better? Isn’t it better to do as I say and be rewarded?” You mewl and he’s kissing you again, unable to remain separated from you for long but pretending he’s merely stopping any rebuttals before they start. Is it necessary to play this game? Would it hurt his pride too much to admit how deeply he wants you when it’s painfully obvious you feel the same?

It doesn’t matter in the end. You’ll do whatever he wants, whatever it takes to make him happy - even if that means pretending to go against his every word. Any game is worth playing if he’s your prize at the end.

#obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #swd lucifer #swd obey me #nsft #works. #me: so hey are yall into devotion #you: uh sure i guess #me: fantastic. i will put it in every fic #also sorry this isn't graphic i'm feeling Extra Ace recently #but i say a tumblr post and had to write this lol

[zhongliologist]

The Persistence of Time | Zhongli

Pairing: Zhongli x Gender Neutral!Reader

Genre: ANGST!! ANGST!!!!

Words: 3.1k

AN: Sorry this took a while!! I was trying to gather enough lore for this to work;;; I hope it was ok >////<!!! 

Now Playing: How Can I Love the Heartbreak, You’re the One I Love - AKMU; Vocalise, Op.34 - Sergei Rachmaninoff; Pavane pour une infante defunte, M.19 - Maurice Ravel

*

“That era has passed. Nothing that belonged to it exists anymore.”

-Wong Kar-Wai, In the Mood for Love

There was no sadness, no pain,

Just a longing for a moment in my life

Where everything seemed right,

Where happiness was due,

And where you and I existed.

I thought it would encompass infinity;

Towards the recesses of the universe

and the end of time.

Yet it passed us without telling;

It had passed without us knowing.

And I am now alone—

Left with a bleak emptiness,

Knowing what and how it felt to be

Complete.

*

“Please forgive me.”

It was there on that day when the gentle sea breeze became harsh gale, when the serene mountains behind him became tall ominous shadows reflecting the darkness cast upon his face. It was when the monotonous world was painted with vivid hurtful tones of silence and heartbreak; gnashing at his heart as it cut the final slivers of happiness left in him.

On that rather peaceful night, when the layers of dust that covered his heart finally blew away, Zhongli finally unearthed the haunting truth he tried to bury. After thousands of years, after monuments turn into ruins, and monoliths turn into sand, and wash away into the shores of time, he finally felt his heart tremble again.

Please forgive me.

“I am truly grateful to be able to receive your love…”

He could see it. Against the dark void of the cloudless sky, he saw it all in your eyes: the pain he had caused, killing you slowly inside like some torturous mechanism devised only by him. It had also cut him open, bleeding bloodless as he tried to force the words out of his lips.

Please…forgive me…

He didn’t want to say it; he didn’t want to hurt you. If only he could pull you to his embrace, wrap you around his arms so tenderly to ease the woes of your heart. If only he had that choice in the first place. He wished he had at that moment. But this was for the best.

“…and I also have come to realize my feelings for you, but—”

Truly, truly, he loves you. More than you can ever imagine; more than what you were thinking of right now as you stood motionless, awaiting his words. He would move mountains, divide the seas for you. He would do everything for you. And the moment you told him how you felt earlier that night was one of the happiest moments in his life, but even then, the tale must end before it could even begin.

He couldn’t risk it. You who had became so precious to him in a span of a few months, he couldn’t risk it. For you to be with a person like him; you deserved better.

“I have already resigned myself to this loneliness.”

Please forgive me.

Heartbreak is momentary. It will soon disappear, and you will soon forget about him. You will move on and find the happiness that he couldn’t give you in the arms of someone else. It felt like thorns around his throat, poison in his chest when he thought about it, yet it has to be done.

This pain will eventually be forgotten.

As he gazed at you, your eyes stunned and holding back tears he wished he could wipe away, Zhongli felt it pierce through him; more painful than any blade or arrow that ever wounded him. But this was for your own good.

“…why…?” you finally asked, eyes too weak to hold any more tears; leaving him more remorseful than ever before. “Don’t I deserve to know why?”

He grit his teeth, cursing silently at the wind. He always admired how you would never give up despite your gentle nature, but right now, it didn’t make things any easier.

“You and I both know what we feel…” you shouted at him, voice trembling. “So why…? Why can’t we be together?”

It was too much. Clenching his hands into fists, he turned away before he could give in to you; his brows furrowing in pain as he heard your sobs being swept by the wind.

“Zhongli!” you screamed, your chest too tight to be able to breathe as your voice diminished into a plea. “…answer me…please…”

His hand was trembling as he tried to hold the hurt in; to keep it suppressed into a tiny pebble inside his chest. But there will always be a point in time when he had to lose strength, when he was at his weakest—and you perfectly hit that mark when you asked him why with so much vulnerability.

“Not now…” he began, his words finally lost to him. “But if you really wish to know, see me tomorrow. At the Guili Ruins.”

*

If only the weather would also stay true to your feelings, it would’ve been a bit better.

Yet the sun was shining brightly, and the sky a deep cobalt blue with tiny whisps of titanium white clouds as it rolled across the expansive visage of the Guili Plains. Life moved on faster than your heart could ever catch up, even if it got broken just the night before.

And the one who broke it was just a few steps ahead.

Zhongli stood waiting for you just beside the main dirt road, mind always wandering farther than his feet could take him. You always wondered where his thoughts took him, or what was in his mind when he told you he had already ‘resigned to loneliness’.

As you approached him with a dread for the truth, you reminded yourself that this was what you asked for. That night, he seemed like he wouldn’t even give you an explanation if you hadn’t pressed him for it, and you wondered what was the reason for that. Now that you have arrived, it wouldn’t take long for you to finally discover what the answer was.

“…Zhongli,” you called out to him softly, stealing him away from his reveries.

He promptly gazed at you, amber eyes lingering for far too long for it to be just a simple glance. But before you could ask him why, he turned away coldly.

“Follow me.”

It stung you—how easily he could shut you off, how easily he could push you away even though you knew what he actually felt. Your eyes widened briefly, unused to this stone cold Zhongli, but you decided not to dwell on it before it could permanently hurt you. Crying when things had barely begun wouldn’t amount to anything.  

Ruins buried halfway on the ground dotted the green landscape; scattered into miniscule pieces that were no longer discernable. If only you could see how shattered your heart was, it would’ve looked similar to these desolate ruins. As you trailed behind him, unable to look at the same back you once embraced, you once leaned on to; your eyes simply gazed down on the ground just to tame these tumultuous tides of emotions.

If only you knew how much Zhongli tried to contain himself—balling his hands into tight fists, his teeth gritting at the way he kept on hurting you. He once was someone who could wear coldness in the face of carnage, yet right now, as you gazed at him with eyes so hopeful, he could feel the mask crumbling, cracking away piece by piece.

But this is for your own good—he reminded himself for the millionth, billionth, nth time.

Eventually he stopped walking, just standing right before a glowing circle on the ground. You could see a cliff behind him, overlooking a sea of long-forgotten stone ruins.

“The Guili Plains were once home to the Guili Assembly,” Zhongli began as he faced you, expression unreadable. “A precursor to the harbor city of Liyue, the Assembly was once ruled over by the God of Dust, Guizhong, and the Geo Archon Rex Lapis.”

You raised a brow at him.

It was already no surprise that Zhongli is Rex Lapis. You were long suspicious and he eventually told you, but you wondered what was the point of all of this; why he specifically asked to meet at this certain place, telling you a tale that has been buried under the sands of time. All you asked him was why he had to reject you.

“Yet the Archon Wars continued to set the lands of Liyue ablaze, and we struggled to protect the people we vowed to protect,” he continued, eyes holding no semblance of emotion, as if he had left everything behind in the distant past. “In the end, we were not strong enough. I was not strong enough to protect even Guizhong.”

You simply stood there, regarding him silently as the cogs in your head turned. For the first time today, you finally heard his stoic expression crack. Did he deeply regret Guizhong’s death that even after thousands of years, he still hasn’t moved on?

“I was too weak, too powerless,” his said his voice trailing off as he finally gave in to the vulnerability. “There was no reason for her to perish. Guizhong was gentle with her people, more compassionate than I could ever be, yet…yet…I—”

He wished he didn’t have to recall that certain moment which was still etched vividly in his memory to this very day, yet you really had to ask him why. You who had been looking at him so lovingly all this time, harboring no hatred in your heart—Zhongli could no longer conceal any more of these emotions which plague him for millennia.  

As you watched him visibly shake as the stone wall he had set up earlier crumbled into dust, you couldn’t help but feel the pain he had gone through over the years. Your heart ached for him, wondering what he must’ve felt when he lost the people he had once considered close to him. It became clear to you that the one thing he needed the least was loneliness.

Taking the first step, you walked towards him and cupped his cheek; forcing him to face you. It felt like a jab as soon as you noticed the hurt in his eyes, even with words unspoken, you immediately knew how much he had suffered.

“She was precious to you, wasn’t she?” you asked, tracing circles on his skin, your voice soft.

“YN…” Zhongli called out your name, his eyes giving a glimpse of how he truly felt as they gazed into yours. “I…I—”

Finally, he collapsed as you pulled him to your embrace. He held on to you tightly; burying his head on your shoulders, hoping that the pain would at least subside if he was in your arms.

“I…I promised her…back then. I promised…I would become the strength to support her and her people. Yet I could not even fulfill that promise…” he continued as he sobbed into your shoulders. “She was always loving to everyone…yet even I, as an Archon…could not…”

For the first time in a long while, Zhongli allowed tears to pour from his eyes as he continued to embrace you. He was enamored with you at first because of how much you reminded him of Guizhong, yet the more time he spent with you, the more he fell for you, he realized that you were different from her. Yet he still couldn’t deny his feelings. He still fell in love with you.

“I am terrified, YN…if I can’t even protect her, then…how can I even keep you safe…?”

You forced your chest to stop clenching tightly when you heard his words. Of course, there was a pang of jealously—of how much he treasured her that he still carried it with him over the years. But at the same time, you felt sorry for him. Even if he did everything he could, he still blames himself for what had happened.

“If you would die as well because of these hands… then I will never be able to forgive myself. That is why I must push you away before any misfortune shall befall you. This is the only way I could protect you.”

He couldn’t stop. He had to say everything. You had to know.

“Even…even if it pains me to see you leave, to see you love someone else, then I must endure. As long as you are happy, as long as you are alive, then I have nothing to regret.”

Brushing your hands through his long hair, you comforted him the best that you could.

“Zhongli…you blockhead…” you whispered as you rubbed his back gently. “I would never be happier if I couldn’t stay by your side. I would never be happy if you’re in pain. Please don’t carry this burden all by yourself. If I am in your arms, then I will always feel safe. You don’t have to shoulder the responsibility of protecting me all alone, I am fully capable of protecting myself, you know.”

Pulling away, Zhongli gazed into your eyes, as you wiped his tear stained face clean with a ghost of a smile. “What happened to Guizhong was a tragedy that came from a war you had already won. Yet you had led her people safely despite your shortcomings and your mistakes.”

“Look at Liyue now,” you continued. “Do you see how beautiful it is? These majestic plains and pools and mountain tops were sculpted by your very hands. Yes, you may have failed to protect her, but her legacy continues on because of you. Liyue Harbor exists because of both of your efforts, and we would have never met if you had never stumbled and fell. No matter how many mistakes you make, she would’ve already forgiven you, knowing how much you worked hard for Liyue even if you say you’re not suited for it. She’ll be proud of you.”

Again, he felt his heart trembled at your very words; the stone which covered it gradually cracking open. He had never told anyone about his regrets before, and it felt so light, knowing that he had you now, knowing that you would understand him. He wouldn’t have to feel so alone.

“YN…” Zhongli whispered, holding your cheeks between his hands as he stared at you with an evocative gaze.

In a moment’s surprise, he captured your lips in a soft yet vulnerable kiss; pouring everything he felt for you at that moment. You could feel it as he swept pass your lips, the intensity of his emotions and the gentleness of his touch. Whatever happened in the past will stay in the past. Right now, he had you.

Gasping for air, the both of you glanced at each other as words unspoken passed between you. He was grateful to have met you in this lifetime. Considering that he is a god who had lived thousands of years, the chances of meeting someone like you was terrifyingly low. But even then, he felt lucky.

“I know you can’t forgive yourself this easily, but I’m sure that you’ll get there,” you told him as you held on to his hand. “I will always be right beside you; to help you get up if you stumble again. I’ll be your support as you come into terms with your own regrets. It will take time, but we have all the time in the world.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli replied, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing it gently with a smile on his face. “

“Come here,” he told you as he slowly turned and walked towards the cliffside. “I have something yet to show you.”

Curious, you followed him to where he sat; leaning against a stone wall that was once part of a greater structure. Sitting next to him at a ledge, you watched as he produced an intricate cube, floating on the air as he held it closely. It seemed to be made of stone yet the streaks around it were glowing golden.

“This is a dumbbell called Memory of Dust,” he prefaced, turning it around gently. “It was something Guizhong gave to me before I lost her, saying that if I can unlock it then perhaps…”

You turned to him curiously. “Perhaps what?”

He gazed at the object with a sighed. “She was never able to finish what she said, and I was never able to unlock it.”

Humming, you leaned your head to inspect it closely. “She didn’t leave any clues?”

“Unfortunately, not.”

“I wonder what it contains—”

“YN!”

As soon as you touched it however, the sides of the object began moving as Zhongli swiftly moved you away from it, shielding you behind him. The cube continued to move as it floated a little further away and began glowing much brighter than ever before.

In a bright flash of light, the object imploded and the next thing Zhongli noticed was familiar voice that seem to be humming just beside his ear. He stood there, feet frozen to the ground, and simply allowed the moment to happen.

“I see. It seems you had finally understood how to become ‘human’…to be able to connect to someone and empathize, to finally understand love, and how to love whole heartedly, to lay down all your burdens and lean on for support. Now it is time for you to experience it. You have done well.”

“…Guizhong…?”

“Here is the Persistence of Time. It is slow changing and persistent. It will continue to flow like tides and ripples in a vast and never-ending fabric of the universe. Everything will be washed away and buried; tucked away until it decimates into grains of sand. Fragments, memory and meaning—all forgotten as those who remember them had long left this world. Yet as time continues to persist, then so too shall love exist past the constraints of time and memory. I shall continue to watch over you, over Liyue, as the new age of mankind dawns. Live well, my Lord.”

He had never expected to hear a voice he hadn’t heard for such a long time. Yet by the time the presence had disappeared and vanished into the air, he could finally feel some sense of peace; closure.

“Oh? You’re smiling.” Zhongli finally heard your voice as you leaned against him; your eyes seemingly knowing yet refusing to tell.

“Am I?” he asked as he offered you his arm. “I am simply grateful of your love, and of your patience with me. If you had given up that night, I would have never understood.”

You hummed. “There was something in that object after all, but then again, I’m happy. Next time, please don’t just jump into plans that aren’t even well thought out. We have each other now, don’t we?”

In a moment’s notice, Zhongli cupped your cheek; giving your lips a small but gentle peck.

“I shall be counting on you then.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli angst #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact x reader

[jaminjims]

「BRAIN GO BRR」

anon request: Heyyy! Could I request for an imagine for prompt 83? An ot7 platonic bts 8th reader crack / fluff? Like they’re playing around and it gets a wee bit competitive? 😅

prompt: “if you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers.”

pairing: platonic!bts ot7 x gender neutral!reader

genre: crack >:), fluff

warnings: strong language?? should that be a warning?

words: 1.3k

~**~

You looked seriously into Taehyung’s eyes, determined that you would get it right no matter what he did. The stakes were high as your team was only one point away from winning.

Tae meowed.

“Monkey!”

There was a brief pause before several different things happened at once.

“Monkey?! I meow and the first animal you think of is monkey, oh my god. Can I hit you?” Taehyung looked at Jin for permission, “Can I hit Y/n?”

“Yah! I can’t help it if you sound like a monkey all the time; you never evolved past caveman! That’s natural selection Tae! Aish, why couldn’t you just evolve past caveman brain.” You whined and messed with your hair in frustration. Jimin and Jungkook looked on in despair as now the Hyung team was a point closer to winning the game and now the two teams were tied. Hoseok and Jin did all they could not to pass out from laughter while Yoongi just nodded to your exclamation like it was universal knowledge that most people, indeed, did not evolve past caveman brain. Namjoon looked like he would like to end his suffering and was contemplating if it was too late to resign as leader. He should let Yeontan take up the mantle. Or maybe get a lizard. Lizards are patient and wise, right?

Ah yes, the elegance that was animal association; where you make an animal noise and if your partner gets it right then the team gets a point. If your partner gets it wrong, then the other team gets the point. Simple really.

Well, unless it came to you, apparently. There was really a 50/50 chance with you.

It was your birthday and you were all gathered in the dorm living room, having a mini party to celebrate while v-living the event. It seemed like the mass lack of IQ you had spread and lowered the general intelligence of everyone in your vicinity though, as Taehyung exclaimed;

“You never evolved past tadpole brain!” He pointed back at you and you had half a mind to bite his finger.

Before you could act on your biting instincts, Jimin laid a hand on your shoulder with a grim expression on his face. “Even I knew it was a cat, Y/n-ah.”

There was obviously something missing in their brain functions because no, that was definitely a monkey. You lunged for the phone to consult ARMY in the decision but Namjoon had enough sense to pull it away from you before you did something rash. Coincidently, you tripped trying to get up to get it back from the leader, and he just looked down at you with something akin to utter misery for this game in his eyes. Or maybe it was war flashbacks. Probably war flashbacks.

Hoseok couldn’t help it; he was basically wheezing he was laughing so hard and Jin went to help you up, though, he was laughing too and almost fell on you in the process. Yoongi was trying his best not to laugh but he kinda looked like the embodiment of the 👁👄👁 face to you.

“Hey! We can still win this, team! They can still get the next one wrong!” Jungkook exclaimed with determination in his eyes. Jimin nodded along with him as you four sat off to the side and the four eldest got together. It was Jin and Yoongi’s turn and Jin thought of an animal that they haven’t done yet.

He hissed.

There was a tense few seconds before Yoongi, quite confidently, replied with “Hedgehog.”

Jin’s eyes widened as he smiled, that caused Hoseok to whoop in victory because if Jin was acting like that then Yoongi had obviously gotten it right. “Aish, you’re so smart.” Jin complimented. Yoongi smiled and looked at the younger ones with smug victory in his eyes. Namjoon sighed like the long suffering parent he was.

It only goes downhill from here.

Your poor brain struggled to make sense of it. “Hedgehog?! What the fuck?! Do hedgehog’s even hiss!?”

This time Hoseok, Jin, and Yoongi started laughing and celebrating their victory while your other three team members looked at you.

You met Jungkook’s cold stare first, “I am going to defenestrate you.” Then they all lunged at you. You yelled and bolted up, grabbing one of those sticky, stretching rubber hand things you can throw at walls to get them to stick there. (if you know, you know) You had insisted you have them as party favors.

You ran around the couch so there was something between you and the other three maknaes. “But we live on the fourth floor!”

“Exactly!” Jimin added, “Maybe if you hit your head hard enough you can gain some brain function back!” Tae continued.

They ran around one way as you ran around the other. You used your sticky hand to hit them in the face when you could while the Hyung line stood a respectful distance away from the chaos and got it on camera.

“Pause!” You yelled and you all froze. You pointed at them while they pointed back at you. Hoseok started laughing again because it reminded him of the one cartoon spider-man meme.

You smirked at them, “If you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers!” Then you bolted away and the poor hyungs didn’t realize you were running to them before it was too late. You hid behind Namjoon as Jimin, Jungkook, and Tae came at you.

You growled and barked at them like the rapid animal you were and it spoked Namjoon enough to almost drop the phone (that was still running the v-live, by the way).

“Did you just bark?” Yoongi said in disbelief while Hobi and Jin also had a look of confusion mixed with concern mixed with slight horror directed at you. Namjoon quickly moved out of the way so he didn’t contract whatever brain cell eating illness you had. You moved to get behind him again before the other young ones could get to you.

He would would have poked you back with a stick if he had one, “Back! Stay back I say!”

You paled when you realized that you had no cover and bolted down the hallway, Jimin hot on your feet and the other two not to far behind.

The hyung’s followed to wherever you were going to make sure everyone made it out somewhat still intact.

You ran into your room and only paused momentarily when you saw that, huh, when did you open the window?, before regaining your senses and dodgeing the three others as they came barreling into the room.

So, the scene looked like this. You on one side, closest to your closet and desk, while Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung were across from you, backs facing the weirdly opened window. The four oldest were watching on with non concealed laughter and amusement (well three of them were, Namjoon looked a little bit like he wanted a nap.)

With nothing between you and your attackers, you did the last thing you could do; which was throw the sticky green hand at them.

You missed and you all watched as it went falling out the window.

There was a few seconds of nothing before you all jumped at the sound of Hoseok’s phone. He looked at it and then back at the other members.

“It’s Sejin Hyung.” He answered the call and put it on speaker.

“Hoseok-ah, would you like to explain the sticky, green, ... hand thing that just flew out your dorm window and into Y/n’s cake?” That was Bang PD’s voice. Which only meant one thing; their boss was with their manager and they had just witnessed you throwing something out the window and landing in your cake.

Wait, it landed in your cake?!

“Wah! It landed in my cake?!” You whined in misery as Hoseok couldn’t help the incredulous giggle that escaped him. It was quiet on both sides before you heard your manager laugh from the other line.

After that it was a domino effect and you all started laughing, even Bang PD himself. While laughing you still couldn’t help the little whines that escaped you.

“But what about my cake??”

[end]

~**~

end note: PLEASE, i live for crack fics you guys. along with writing angst (which i seem to write the most, for whatever reason) crack is one of my favorite things to write. i feel like i get to really just let my already deteriorating mental stability go and write whatever comes to mind with prompts like these so i had sooo much fun! thank you so so so much for the request anonie! i loved it so much and i hope you like it as much as i did 💜

masterlist

request something!

taglist: @boba-tea1206

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts ot7 x reader #bts x male reader #bts x female reader #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungjook #kim seokjin fanfiction #min yoongi fanfiction #jung hoseok fanfiction #kim namjoon fanfiction #park jimin fanfiction #Kim Taehyung fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts crack #platonic bts #bts 8th member #suga #rm #jhope #jin #v #bangtan sonyeondan

[piratesfromspace]

The Mechanic (Anakin/Reader)

Anakin Skywalker/Reader, Obi-Wan is also here

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Smut 18+, mechanical arm, Anakin is a little shit, dom/sub undertones, humiliation kink if you squint.

AFAB reader but gender-neutral pronouns MASTERLIST

“A… mechanic??”

“Yes, that’s what I am. A mechanic. The best in town. Isn’t it what you’re looking for?”

Obi-Wan scrunches his nose and turns to the poor clone trooper who had introduced you.

“Are you serious?” he asks in a whisper.

“Do you know how hard it is to find a biomechanics surgeon around here, General? That’s the best I could find.” the trooper seems really tired you notice.

Kenobi brings his hand on his chin, silently thinking for a few seconds.

“I guess they’ll do.”

---

And that’s how you’re recruited for a very special task. When you’re led to their temporary base just outside of town, you thought you were going to be asked to repair a secret-weapon, or some military speeder. Oh Maker were you wrong. 

You’re pushed inside of a medical ship, and instead of a speeder, you find yourself face to face with another jedi. He’s sitting on a table, his jedi robe badly torned, already pushed down and bunched on his hips, leaving his muscular torso entirely bare. You would have noticed his perfectly drawn abs if you weren’t distracted by his right arm. From his elbow down, it is entirely made of gold and black metal, with armored panels mimicking the size of his other regular arm, complete with what look like delicate fingers. A mechno-arm. You’ve never seen one quite like it. It must cost a small fortune, and it is definitely custom. But it’s also definitely wrecked.

“So, you’re the biomechanics expert?”

“Mechanic. Just a mechanic. But I know a thing or two about cybernetics.”

“Great.” He says with a cynical tone before making a pause, eyeing you down shamelessly for a tad too long, as you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at his poor manners. He smirks at your reaction, and cocks his chin up before continuing. 

“Well, anyway, I’ll guide you, I know what’s going on with my arm, I just need a helping hand.”

He says that with a lot more confidence than what you would expect from someone his young age, almost condescending - but you can’t really be mad at him, considering the guy has the Force and looks like this. You would be insufferable as well. 

Sometimes life is unfair, you think, too bad he chose to become a warrior monk, because you wouldn’t mind tinkering with more than his arm.

You take a deep breath, and just get on with it, starting to work on his prosthetic, following his instructions. Even if he hasn’t all the correct vocabulary, the man actually knows what’s wrong with his arm, and you’re a little bit annoyed at the fact he was right. You would have gladly taught him a lesson, making his cocksure smirk and patronizing tone go away just for a second. Nonetheless, you listen to what he explains, and after a while, you realize you’re just executing his directions without second guessing him, lulled by his warm voice, scrunched over his mechanical arm, your face just inches away from his very human skin. 

After an hour, you’re done, and his fingers are back to life, the mechanism slightly buzzing while he lifts his hand to his face, watching with an honest smile as his movements resume. You’re watching as well, mesmerized by the way his metal fingers move with such great finesse. It’s almost surreal when you know the inhumane strength he could deploy thanks to the alloy ligaments, a deadly threat just lying under golden fingertips. 

Your gaze switches to his face, and you allow yourself to stare a little. He’s young but the toll of war is already showing, the kindness of his eyes hidden behind a steely veil, a scar running way too close from his right eye. His hair is a mess, long light-brownish locks with a few blond strands. His innocence is long gone, replaced by a mix of fierce resolve and cocky attitude. He’s handsome, you won’t lie to yourself. And his toned body matches his pretty face. Even the mechanical arm adds to his charm. You’re sure some would be repulsed by it, but you’re definitely not. You can’t stop wondering what it’s like for him when he touches something, when he touches someone. And you can’t stop wondering what it’s like to be touched by those fingers, to feel the smooth golden steel on your skin. Would it be warm? Or cold? 

You’re pulled out of your daydreaming by a cough. Anakin is now looking at you, and his knowing gaze is making you doubt if he’s reading your mind. There are many rumors about the powers jedi can have, and you suddenly blush at the realization he might actually be.

“Well, thanks, it works fine again.” he says with a falsely natural tone. “But I think I need to run just a few tests, you know, to make sure the sensation is back. Would you like to help me? I warn you, it can be a bit… overwhelming.” He says that as his mechanical hand grazes at your naked forearm, his self-confident grin back on his face, and you can’t miss the sexual undertone of his proposition. The feeling sends chills in your whole body, the metal of his fingertips is definitely cold — at least, for now. You’re a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting advances from a literal monk, but at the same time you know you’re too curious and too horny already to pass down such an invitation. 

“And how can I help?” you ask not so innocently. 

“Glad you ask.” he answers, as he hops down from the table, an even bigger grin on his face. 

You don’t have the time to realize what’s going on, but he lifts you up and slams you down on the table before climbing back on top of you, resting on his knees, arms caging you. 

He hushes you when you want to protest against his manhandling, but you can’t deny the fact it’s turning you on even more. He watches your face intently as his mechanical hand is caressing your cheek, then shifting lower on your throat. He squeezes gently, just to see how you would react, and he’s pleased to hear you gasp at the tiniest of pressure. It’s making you dizzy, the knowledge he could literally crush you if he wanted to, and you’re being amazed at the control he shows instead. 

His hand doesn’t stay there for long though, and goes even lower, shortly groping your breast before sliding further down until it stops at the waistband of your pants. He waits a second here, scanning you for any form of approval, before resuming when you thrust your hips slightly up against his palm, letting him know you’re looking for more. 

He loses no time, snaking his hand under your pants and in your panties, cupping your cunt. The metal of his fingers is warmer now, thanks to your own body heat, but the feeling is still foreign although not unpleasant. He parts your folds, tracing a finger from your entrance to your clit, spreading your wetness there. The pitiful whine that escapes your lips as he starts circling the bundle of nerves makes him chuckle. He’s visibly enjoying the way you react under his touch. 

The smooth steel of his golden fingertips feels like heaven against your sensitive parts, and you already know you won’t last long. He rises a bit, sitting on his heels so he can use his left arm to pin you down, real fingers made of flesh cruelly biting in your hips to keep you in place for what’s coming next. 

He stops his ministrations and coats two of his metallic fingers in your juices before sinking them slowly inside of you. You stop breathing as you watch his fingers disappear between your legs with awe. You feel every ridges and bumps of the mechanical knuckles as they slide in and out of you, and when his thumb finds your clit again, you’re glad he’s actually pinning you down, because it’s suddenly too much to handle. Your back arches and your head slams down against the unforgivable steel of the medical table. In other circumstances, you would complain, but you just can’t find a good reason to care right now. 

Anakin keeps on moving his fingers, relentlessly bringing you closer to the edge. Your whines are now moans, and he gives you a mean look, mouthing a “shut up”. You almost forgot you were in the middle of a military base, and that anyone could enter the room you were in at any time now. You clamp your hand on your mouth, trying desperately to keep quiet as the bastard is slowing his pace but increasing the pressure of his touch, crooking the fingers inside of you to rub against that perfect spot that makes you see stars. It’s a matter of seconds before you come with a muffled whimper, eyes closed, hips rising up from the table. He doesn’t stop until you push his hand away as the pleasure-pain of overstimulation settles in. 

“It looks all good, thanks for helping.” he says with a cocky little smile, while you try to catch your breath. He wipes his mechanical arm on your pants, like it’s just a random rag, and you’re too shocked by the sheer audacity of the man to think of a retort. 

You barely have the time to get back on your feet, that the door of the room is sliding open, revealing a visibly displeased Obi-Wan. 

“You’ done yet?” 

You open your mouth to answer but Anakin is quicker. 

“Yes, Master. We were just making sure the repair is efficient.” 

He says that with his usual grin and while looking the older jedi dead in the eye. You wonder how he managed to do that when some of his fingers still smell like you. You’re also jealous of the fact his crumpled robe is making a decent job at hiding his hard-on, while the wet patch on your pants where Anakin wiped his fingers is all too visible.

“It seems your hand is working perfectly again, Anakin.” 

The tone of Obi-Wan's voice is half-amused, half-annoyed when he says that, his eyes on you, rather than on his padawan. You wonder if he knows what just happened, causing your face to grow hot under his suspicious gaze. 

“Just ask the trooper outside for your payment” he adds bluntly, before asking Anakin to follow him for a briefing where they’re both needed. 

As they exit the room, the younger jedi turns to you.

“I know I can count on you if I ever need more repairs. I’ll make sure to request you, personally.”

Your face is getting even more red as you mumble a good-bye to the two warriors. 

The paycheck was generous, but honestly? You would be lying to yourself if you would not admit you’d do it all over again for free.

#anakin imagine #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #anakin smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #gender neutral imagine

[rexscyarika]

Ner Jetii

An angsty one shot between Rex and gender neutral Jedi reader. The reader is a Padawan but of age. It’s not stated who the reader’s master is or what battalion they serve with but, they talk of rescue and relief so Plo Koon and the 104th could be implied if you so please.

⚠️Mature audiences recommended⚠️

Warnings: Established romantic relationship between Rex and reader, so much angst, heavy survivor’s guilt and reader blaming themselves, reader losing their company in a seppie trap, descriptions of blood and death, dying words, past torture, ptsd flashbacks, hallucinations, mention of post Umbara trauma, mention of nightmares, reader self-harming in a way (using pain to drive their will and unconsciously punish themselves, self-destructing/over exertion, simile of falling through ice/drowning, implied capture and torture of reader, mention of capture and slavery in the beginning, fluff at the end, reader is so traumatized and paranoid, no y/n just pet names, small kiss at the end, reader needs a hug, reader gets that hug from Rex, comforting! Rex, Rex sings to you in Mando’a cause I’m a slut for that language. I hope that’s all 😭

Mando’a translations:

Cyare/cyar’ika: Darling/beloved/sweetheart

Mesh’la: Beautiful

Mando’ad: Mandalorian (lit “child of Mandalore”)

Vod/vode: brother/sister/comrade

Jetii: Jedi

Ner: My

Ret’urcye mhi: Goodbye (lit “maybe we’ll meet again)

Bal kote, durasuum kote: For glory, eternal glory

The lullaby lines are made up from a phrase of remembrance (translations are included by them)

It was just a relief mission. You were supposed to bring food and medical supplies to a remote outer rim system that had been effected by separatist blockades. An easy and simple mission, one to introduce shinies to life off Kamino. At least that’s what it was supposed to be. That was until you had led your company straight into a Seperatist trap. It turns out there were no citizens to help out, no citizens at all for that matter, those that were there had been captured and sold. It hadn’t been much of a fight, you were severely lacking in firepower and experienced soldiers. Sure as a Jedi you are worth a couple hundred battle droids but you can’t help your men when you’re engaging a highly dangerous Sith Lord. At least they had died fairly quickly with minimal suffering. That’s what you get when you have 10 battle droids for every trooper. They keep firing even after all are down. They don’t take prisoners, well not troopers anyway. Maybe it’s for the best for some of them, though. The shinies won’t have to see firsthand the effects of the war that has plagued the galaxy, or wake up trembling with the sound of blaster fire ringing through their ears at night. They will have died knowing nothing more than training exercises and stories from their vode. The others won’t have to mourn for lost vode anymore, they won’t have to worry about their place in the galaxy after the war. Not gone, merely marching away as the Mando’ad say. Marching away from endless battles and no choices for how they live their lives.

Yeah, it was for the best.

But, if that was the case why do their voices haunt you at night? Cry’s of “You could have saved us.” “We were so young.” “Please General I didn’t want to die this young.” and of course the one that nips at your brain 24/7, like a headache that won’t go away “You led us straight to them.”

You didn’t mean to. You’re loyal to the republic and your men. But you’re a Jedi right? You should’ve sensed it, the fact their was a handful of force signatures on a planet said to have billions of citizens and the presence of a Sith Lord for kriff’s sake. You could’ve sensed it. If only you had been been paying attention instead of laughing at stupid jokes with your men, those men same might still be alive.

The Jedi council had tried to reassure you

“A Padawan you still are and an experienced Sith Lord Dooku is. A fair fight it was not.”

“Dooku can mask his force signature, young one. It wasn’t your fault.”

“We cannot save everyone. We are Jedi not gods.”

But that didn’t stop the nagging at your heart. Nor did it stop the knowledge of why the separatists developed such a complex trap to eliminate such a small number of troopers. It was because of you. You had important separatist codes locked in your head, gathered from previous missions. They knew you would be easiest to get at because you were still a Padawan and worked primarily on rescue and relief missions. Missions with low firepower and minimal expectance for combat. Master Windu knew the same codes, but he is far too experienced for them to go after. If only you had trained more, longer, better. You think back to every night you snuck out to have some fun. If you had stayed and went over your studies maybe you could’ve saved them. You wouldn’t have had to hear the dying words of your Captain. Oh your sweet Captain. So loyal and eager since he was shiny right up until his last choked out battle cry of “Bal kote, darasuum kote. Ret’urcye mhi, vod.”.

Forever glory? Where was the glory in being led to a massacre by your Commanding Officer?

He had called you vod. A title reserved for their brothers and those they respected. You didn’t deserve that respect. You weren’t a comrade that had fought valiantly by their side, you were the person that was supposed to protect them, and you let them down. The Mando’a farewell directly translates to “maybe we’ll meet again.”. If there is an afterlife and if you did, you don’t think you could look them in the eyes.

The trauma supporters the council had directed you to talk to when you got back had told you these thoughts were normal. “Survivors guilt” they had called it. As the only survivor your brain tries to tell you it was your fault. But, you weren’t a trooper that had managed to survive. You were the commanding officer. They told you that didn’t matter, it wasn’t your fault.

You wish everyone would stop telling you that, as far as you’re concerned, it was. So you tried to do everything you could to never let that happen again. You brought experienced men on relief missions, ignoring their complaints of this being a shinies job and a waste of their experience. You spent your time either sleeping, eating, training or researching new strategies. Not that your sleeping actually involved much sleeping. It mostly consisted of tossing and turning, flashes of dead troopers and... him. His sickly grin as you writhed in pain under his tortures, the blood curdling laugh as you tried to escape. You’d heard stories of how sick the former Jedi was, but experiencing it was something else. Not just the torture but his presence. Dark, looming and cold. Like falling through ice into cold water. Trapped and desperate to escape.

Every slightly negative feeling that leaked from your fellow Jedi made you freeze. He’s here, you’d think, or that Jedi has turned. So you walked around on eggshells, constantly wary and vigilant of any potential threats. Even now as you focused on the punching bag in front of you were scanning, reaching out with the force to sense any threats. It was becoming exhausting, so you opted to let pain drive your will. Not even bothering to wrap your hands as you threw punches at the bag. Your fists began to slide off the bag on account of your blood staining it red. But you didn’t stop, truthfully you didn’t even feel the pain at this point. You couldn’t tell if the red on your hands was your own or the memories of fallen troopers’.

“I should’ve fought harder.”

You hit the bag with a powerful right hook.

“They’d still be alive if I had”

You opted for a jab.

“I led them straight into that trap.”

Your cross didn’t consist of much technique, just rage and power.

The same time you heard the door to the training room being opened you felt an icy breath near your ear. “The pain will end if you just give me the codes.”

“Never!” You snarled, whirling around and summoning your lightsaber from your belt. Immediately igniting it and pointing it to face the Sith Lord. I look of poor malice fell across your face, a mask to hide the fear.

You were met by a startled trooper, his wraps falling from his hands and his body moving into an instinctive defensive stance.

It took you a second to realize there was no danger, your eyes raking behind him to ensure of such. You disengaged your lightsaber and dropped to your knees with shaky breaths.

“I thought your were him, Rex, I thought he’d found me.” You sobbed into your hands, flinching as you felt a hand on your back.

“It’s okay Cyare, you’re safe, I’ve got you.”

You let him pull you into his lap. He gently grabbed your hand with his, careful to avoid the raw patches that were still oozing blood. His other hand stayed on your back to rub soothing circles and pull you tight to him. He held you as sobs wracked your body, his lips by your hairline, whispered assurances coming from them.

He started to hum softly before they turned to words. It was a Mando’a lullaby, one sung to grieving vod after a loss. You didn’t know many of the words, your knowledge of the language not extending much past the nicknames Rex would call you. It was still comforting though, his voice soft as he ran a hand through your hair.

“Ni su’cuyi, gar kyr’adyc.”

You realized you recognized what he was singing. You heard it whispered from the lips of troopers as their vode mourned. Rex had told you the meanings of some of the lines. (“I’m still alive, but you are dead.”)

“Ni partayli, gar darasuum” he continued humming. (“I remember you so you are eternal.”)

Your sobs slowly turned to sniffles as you sat there with him. Feeling a small sense of comfort and security for the first time in weeks. Relishing in the feeling of being in his arms.

“Cyar’ika.” He had whispered when you had finally gone silent, your breaths coming even and deep now. He brought the hand from your hair to your cheek, gently encouraging you to look at him. “Are you with me, little one?”

You nodded and blinked up at him with swollen eyes. You whispered a thank you as you searched his face. It was soft yet slightly taught with worry. His eyes were sparkling with held back tears, and his mouth was turned up into a small, comforting smile. He looked so young yet so old at the same time. His soft features having been hardened from war and loss, scars from injuries his helmet couldn’t protect from laying here and there. Yet, even after years as a soldier in a war he had no say in he was still so compassionate. He wasn’t cold and unforgiving like some had become. He sat there with care and worry in his eyes, looking at you like you were his whole world. Even broken and bleeding he stayed with you. If you crumbled then he would pick up the pieces and put you back together, just as you have with him. You had been there for him, calming him down from nightmares of Umbara. You had taken his broken heart and sewed it back together with care.

So, he would do the same for you.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled towards him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Mesh’la.”

“But I do-“

He cut you off by bringing his lips gently to yours and sealing them in a gentle kiss.

He pulled away to rest his forehead in yours.

“No you don’t, ner jetii. Not to me, not to anyone.”

He moved to stand up, still holding onto you to support you as you stood on shaky legs.

“Let’s get you to the medbay.” He gestured to your hands once he deemed you stable enough to be able to walk.

You nodded to him and accepted his arm around your waist, your own moving to seek support on his shoulder. You made your way to the medbay, averting your eyes from curious glances at your state. You knew no one would question or mock you. Not with Rex there, his gaze flaming with warning at anyone that looked your way. You still had a lot to get through. You knew more blood and tears would be shed. That voice would continue nagging in your head and you’d still see your fallen company in your dreams. But, it would get better, you had Rex to talk you down and hold you during those times. You had done that for him and you knew he would do the same for you.

His Jetii.

#Rex x reader #gender neutral reader #no y/n #Rex x reader angst #Rex x reader fluff #I just wanna give that man a hug #also the reader cuase they need it omg #this was gonna be slight angst that led to smut to help reader forget but I got carried away #I’m not projecting ur projecting

[honey-dewey]

Headcanons for when the boys find you the most attractive

Midnight me is apparently a genius and wrote a fair amount of this. Morning me just did the editing. It is exactly what it sounds like, and this is probably my spiciest post (for now.) Not gonna call them drabbles because they’re definitely above 100 words, but they aren’t imagines either. So we’ll say Headcanons and move on. These should all be gender neutral, there’s no overly sensitive content aside from the Spice (so I am using a read more, and I will say which ones have Spice), and I hope you enjoy! 

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin: 

Literally when you have a weapon you know how to use. Any weapon will do, and even hand to hand combat makes him admire you like a deity. But he really likes seeing you with his pulse rifle. Something about the way you look shooting down enemies with his weapons really makes him feel lightheaded. And if you take his spear? He’ll just about pass out because holy shit. Body. Muscles. Spear. Error 404 Please reboot your Mandalorian. You broke him. 

Marcus Moreno: 

(Contains Spice)

When you’re in charge of any situation. He’s got a thing for authority and the strength to your voice makes his knees weak as he carries out your orders. Bonus points for bringing this leadership role to the bedroom and just ruining poor Marcus. He’s a giant switch, and as much as he loves taking charge, he adores letting go and allowing you to take away his control. He’s stressed, please give him a break, and he sounds so good calling you sir/ma’am. 

Max Phillips: 

(Blood warning)

When you’re beneath him and he’s got his fang marks on your neck. Please let this man feed from you, he loves seeing the two punctures in your skin and the blood trickling down your bare chest and the look on your face is the cherry on top of the cake. He’s practically begging you to let him take more and bite you again. He’ll leave vampire bites and love bites on you in equal measure, and honestly, his favorite part is gently wiping your skin down and kissing your bleeding bites before pressing a bandage to your skin.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales: 

(Contains big Spice)

When you’re on top of him, praising him and pulling his hair. (Say it with me now! Frankie Morales gets pegged!) He’s got a praise kink a mile wide and he Loves with a capital L when you’re taking him from behind and you grab his hair and just yank. Ho boy that’ll ruin him. And if you’re praising him while pulling his hair? He’ll do anything you want if it means he gets praise. He also thinks you’re super hot when he’s looking up at you from his knees. (Again, bonus points for grabbing his hair while he’s down there.) 

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels: 

When you’re wearing his hat. Need I say more? Whether he’s putting it on your head while he’s loving up on you or he’s putting it on you while he’s making breakfast, he loves to see you in his hat. And when you steal it, placing it on your head, usually while you’re sitting on his desk? He can’t even get mad at you because you’re so damn pretty. Eventually, he’ll get you one of your own, but it’s not the same as stealing his, y’know?

Ezra: 

When you’re in bed with him in the morning and he can see the sun on your body. He just likes knowing you’ll stay the night, and he loves seeing the sunlight illuminate your bare skin. He says it makes you look like you’re shining, and sometimes he’ll intentionally leave the curtains open at night so the sun can hit you when it rises. He’ll run his hand over your sunlit shoulders and watch how the early morning sun makes your eyes glow. He’ll even call you his sunshine, just because of the way the sun makes you look. 

Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey: 

When you steal his clothes, specifically his jacket, and wear them in public. He likes to watch the coat bunch around your ankles and hands, or if you’re taller, he likes to watch the aged leather hit your body in all the right places. He loves seeing you in shorts with a shirt of his that covers your shorts. If you’re bigger, he’ll buy clothes that are bigger on him so that you can take them from him. If you’re too hesitant to take his clothes? That’s fine, he’ll let you borrow his jewelry. He also likes when you wear clothes that show off marks he gave you, especially if those clothes are his. 

Javier Peña: 

When you’re perched on the edge of his desk, looking over his shoulder as he works. He likes seeing you haloed in his, and yours if you smoke, cigarette smoke and the shitty lamp lights that make his eyes burn. He says it all makes you look angelic, like you’re glowing and radiant. Sometimes, he’ll lend you his button up or coat because the office gets cold, and those moments when you’re working late with him, those are his favorite. 

Maxwell Lord: 

When you’re wearing clothes he bought you. Or better yet, lingerie he bought you. You walking out of the closet or bathroom wrapped in things he picked just for you? He loves it. His favorites are when you and him attend events together, and he gets you something that matches his suit or tie. Bonus points if you wear something sexy underneath that he also bought you. And jewelry he bought you? Yeah he’s all over you whenever you wear that stuff. But his favorite part might be taking it off of you. 

Oberyn Martell: 

(Obviously contains Spice)

Really? Do I even need to do this one? Straight up, we all know it’s when you’re naked beneath him, decorated only by his marks and an ornate golden collar with a Dornish sun charm that sits between your collarbones. He loves seeing you waiting for him, and it’s even better if Ellaria is with you as well. A close second is when you walk around the bedroom in sheer, gauzy fabrics that cover pretty much nothing, but the Dornish colors look so good on you and Oberyn loves to see all of you, even when you’re covered. 

Pero Tovar: 

When you’re cooking. Please feed this man.

#Pedro Pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #we can be heroes #marcus moreno #Bloodsucking bastards #max phillips #Triple Frontier #frankie morales #kingsman #agent whiskey #jack 'whiskey' daniels #prospect (film) #ezra (prospect) #nypd blue #shane 'dio' morrissey #Narcos #Javier Pena #wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lord #game of thrones #Oberyn Martell #the great wall #pero tovar #Dewey's Drabbles

[monkeydlesbian]

# A PROPOSITION.

pairing: keiji akaashi x fem!reader

word count: 1.0k

synopsis: the men your father thinks you are suited to marry pale in comparison to keiji akaashi, the son of your fathers colleague, the man who you’ve grown to love.

warnings: mention of like,,, enforced gender roles ig?? and the concept of arranged marriages/courtships

a/n: shoutout to vivaldi in my study playlist for inspiring this. uhhh this is sorta like a victorian au?? like a period piece?? idk but akaashi is pretty and he just fits the role perfectly i think. anyways i hope u enjoy this <3

The orchestra plays Vivaldi; The Four Seasons, if you recall correctly. Presto: Tempo impetuoso d’Estate. The composition created a little over a century ago, the one your father speaks so highly of, now being played by the orchestra he speaks so highly of. He pays for nothing but the best. You listen as the violin changes in intensity, your chest feeling heavy. With what, you’re not entirely sure.

You meet his gaze from across the room. Cobalt blue. He’d look tired to many, disinterested to most. You know better.

Your heart beats as fast as the strokes of the violin. A breath in, a breath out. In and out like the motions of the bow of the violin against its strings; Erratic yet smooth.

Suddenly he’s moving, away from where his father talks to yours. They speak of war, of women, money, scandal.

Akaashi doesn’t like the things they speak of. The affairs of the military, the aristocracy.

He likes art, literature, music.

He likes the violin, the way the bow moves across the strings like a snowstorm; A flurry of sorts. His heart beats faster, he moves to you.

You walk faster now, faster towards the center of the ballroom.

You meet him there, you can feel the wooden floor creak underneath your feet.

Cobalt blue. The color of his eyes the same as the color of his suit lapels. Gold buttons, decorated with a crawl of ivy.

His cheeks are flushed as he reaches out, grazes his hands over yours. He can’t touch, but he does anyway. A slender finger runs over your knuckle, light as a feather, and he can’t help but embrace your hand fully.

Your eyes widen, “Mr. Akaashi-“

“No need for surnames, Miss Y/N,” He says simply, encasing his hands in yours and pulling you in.

You gasp, widen your eyes as he places a hand on your waist and keeps the other holding yours in between the two of you.

“We mustn’t— m-my father—“

“Is speaking with mine. Down the hall, outside of the ballroom.”

“And what do they speak of?” You ask, relaxing slightly in his hold.

“The usual,” He answers lightly, running a thumb over the silk of your gown, right over your hip. You shiver.

“Military, money, women. You.”

“M-Me? What of me?”

He chuckles at the panic written on your face, “Of how you’re good with a rapier. And how you can’t seem to keep a suitor because you keep using said rapier.”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment as you cast your eyes to the ground, smiling sheepishly. The two of you dance to the violin in silence for a little while, until you speak up.

“It’s not my fault when the men my father think that I am so suited to marry are literal children. I wouldn’t even need a rapier to rid myself of them.”

Akaashi laughs at this, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand and slipping his other hand further around your waist.

“We could always marry each other, you know,” He muses, tilting his chin up in thought with a small smile.

“You’re not serious?”

“As the plague,” He answers as he looks back down at you.

“Do you really think your father would allow it?”

“I think we should be more concerned with your father, Miss Y/N,” He says, earning a sigh in return.

“Perhaps you’re right. It’s funny, you know,” You start, watching as he raises an inquisitive, trimmed brow.

“How our fathers practically want us switched.”

“What do you mean by that?” He asks curiously, tilting his head in confusion.

“You like books, music, art. I like rapiers, Jiu Jitsu. Violence, I suppose.”

“Women aren’t supposed to like fighting,” You say with a sigh.

“Men aren’t supposed to like literature, either,” He counters.

“Men should like whatever they want to like.”

“So should women.”

Silence now fills the few inches of space between the two of you. The violin has slowed into something more softer. The bow is less intense on the strings, just barely brushing across the surface.

Cobalt blue meets Y/E/C.

Suddenly, his grip on your hand tightens as he pulls you away from the center of the ballroom and into the hallway.

Your gown flutters behind you and your heels click across the cold, tiled floor as you let Akaashi lead you to—

“Keiji, where are we going?”

“To find our fathers,” He answers simply, glancing at you over his shoulder with a barely-there smile. Despite the speed at which you’re both walking and the adrenaline running through your veins, he’s not out of breath in the slightest.

“How do you know where they are?” You ask, panting slightly as you tighten your grip on his hand.

“When I was with them earlier, they mentioned discussing an... aristocratic issue. In an office of sorts.”

“My fathers office,” You breathe, a smile growing as you become giddy.

“Your father’s office,” He repeats, smiling fully at you from over his shoulder now.

He leads the two of you to a pair of massive, dark oak doors that make way to the office of one of the most powerful men on the planet, in both military and economic affairs.

Before you open the door to your fathers office, you lean up to whisper in Akaashi’s ear.

“If this doesn’t go the way we’d like, I have my rapier underneath my gown. Perhaps we can persuade them with other methods.”

He whips his head to look at you with wide eyes, before he laughs in disbelief.

“Let’s work on persuading them using the first method we had in mind, yes?” He says with a smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You mirror him, nodding eagerly.

The two of you then grab the steel handles of the large door, pushing it open and stepping in the doorway hand in hand.

“Father,” You greet yours, sitting in the cushioned chair behind his desk.

“Father,” Akaashi greets his, who had halted his previous pacing across the patterned carpet to look at the intruders.

Both of their eyes widen at the sight of your hands clasped together, before they look up to meet your gazes. The sound of the orchestra has faded; The bow of the violin is heavier against its strings, faster.

“We have a proposition.”

#RARARARAARRS GOIJG FERAL FOR THIS #watch this get zero notes #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagine #akaashi keji x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji imagine #akaashi smut #keiji akaashi imagine #fukurodani #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #hq x reader #hq imagine #bokuto x reader

[sweetygirl90]

If you don’t like chasriel then DON’T READ THIS. Okay? Okay.

I apologize in advance if there are any grammatical errors or typing errors that make the text poorly understood. English is not my first language and although I am learning it I still have a long way to go. I would appreciate if anyone would notify me of any errors that you find.

So... Chara here are a female-born non-binary gender (They/Them pronouns)

____________________________________________________________

Ever since he was conscious of life, Asriel could tell how much his father loved his garden.

Asriel watched him work on it all day when he wasn’t busy with his family or attending to royal duties, always smiling peacefully as he did his work watering flowers or cutting brush. It was something simple, but the adult took the time in the world to do it with impeccable care and neatness. Asriel could even tell that Asgore was more into it than his paperwork.

Rarely could he observe the affliction in his father eyes when he occasionally discovered some plague damaging his precious flowers, or how some of them turned out to be withered.

Fresh in his memory was the scene of the king sighing heavily when it was time to cut the blackened flowers before they ended up affecting the rest. According to him, although it was for the good of the rest of the garden, he didn’t like to get rid of them. It must have been a disappointment to see those flowers that he worked so hard on diying.

Asriel thought that if the garden were a person, perhaps it would be one of the most loved by the monarch of the underground, perhaps becoming just as loved as he and his mother.

It was a bit difficult for him to understand it at first, perhaps because he hadn’t found something similar to consider his garden, but he assumed by common sense that when you spend so much time on something you end up loving even a little, or not? For a long time he wondered what it would be like to come to love something or someone so much.

Was the answer worth knowing after all?

Asriel lifted his gaze from the sheets to return to the human who lay on the bed, sick and tired as usual. Or at least that's how it was a few days ago.

Their breath slowly raised their chest, their pale face that was barely rosy on their cheeks reflected full calm as if they were in a long, peaceful sleep that wanted to engulf them in the dark forever. A damp towel rested on their forehead to reduce the fever, and some brown hair clung to it while others lay on their shoulders and the pillow.

Even bedridden by illness it was amazing how they could look so pretty, and they wasn't even trying.

“Chara…”

Asriel called their name in a broken whisper. They moved their hand close to his, to show him that they was awake and that they could hear him perfectly.

"I don't like this plan anymore, Chara." He said, and he leaned over the bed, resting his face close to his friend's arm.

Warm tears began to emerge from the young prince's eyes, releasing that overwhelming feeling that consumed him from within and that he hadn't had a chance to release until now. Doing so didn't feel better if they asked, because that didn't solve anything that was happening.

Chara was dying, he knew it.

No matter how much the adults wanted to convince him otherwise or how much they insisted that his best friend would recover, he knew with certainty what the end was that awaited the human in how much their body could not tolerate it anymore. He was aware of how Chara was withering day after day, and how medicines and care were not able to save them.

He could feel it. He felt their life slip through his fingers like sand.

Worst of all is that in the midst of his naivety he was responsible for this. How could he be so stupid to allow it? How come he didn't stop them? He thought that refusing to find out what it implied would be enough, but he was wrong to underestimate Chara and he knew it as soon as he saw them lying on the ground with the rest of the golden flowers that they could not swallow surrounding them.

This he no longer liked. This is not how things should be. Chara was not born to be bedridden in pain and slowly deteriorate. No! Chara had must to re-bloom like they did every day.

His friend was not this frail sick child. They was a mischievous laugh that echoed through the castle when they both committed a mischief, they was the energy that lifted him from his bed every morning to start the day, they was that genuine smile that amazed him, they was those hands that could be gentle to pet him or be aggressive for when they both played pillow wars. Chara was that lively, ruby-crimson gaze that glowed, the one he longed for with all his soul, the one they had lost and turned opaque.

Chara was everything and more, and Asriel wasn't ready to give it all up.

“Azzy.”

Their raspy, weak voice lifted him with the same gentleness with which they began to pet his head. Asriel opened his eyes to find Chara smiling at him, they had a look of indulgence devoid of pity.

“Don’t go.” He implored. His friend's hand felt warm cradling his cheek and he couldn't help but want to hold it right there using his. He needed to feel that the warmth that overflowed from Chara's soul had not yet left them, that they had not yet left.

Chara allowed him to do so and kept petting him with their thumb on that trail of tears, thinking that Asriel looked like a helpless puppy taking shelter from the rain and cold. In a way they made sense of it when they looked at his fluffy ears and couldn't help but imagine a dog saddened by its owner's usual departure to work.

Chara wanted to try to see him the same way to deny the truth.

"I'm not going anywhere. Everything will be fine.”  They promised, but the monster could see clearly that it was more to convince themself than him. "Everything will go as we planned."

"Chara, please." He begged them again, holding his face closer as soon as he stopped feeling their caresses and was aware of the typical tremor that he noticed in them when they began to feel weak. “I don't care going to the surface anymore, I don't care breaking the barrier. I'm already happy here with you, I don't need more than that.”

He didn't want to let his garden die, didn't want to see his flower wither.

Chara still spoke as if they were unchanging, but long ago their smile and their gaze became unstable. Asriel didn't need to see them to know it, he just felt their pulse. "Seven…  Just seven human souls and you will free everyone, Asriel."

They repeated the plan that they both already knew, and with it they hoped to scare away that fear that still overwhelmed them with death on the horizon. They hoped it would comfort their poor friend, but instead they only made his suffering worse.

“We will free them all from this prison to which the selfish humans unjustly condemned you all. I want you to be free, I want you to see the sun as I promised you.”

Chara never had an attachment to their own kind and Asriel knew it from the start, for they didn't bother to hide it. Asriel many times came to wonder if the love that Chara claimed to profess to him, their friends and family was as big as they swore it to be. He was distressed that they was lying when they said that the love they  was given in one day was a thousand times greater than that given to them by humans on the surface. Right now he regretted having doubted, that the human strictly demonstrated how much they loved them by giving their own life in exchange for the freedom of the monsters.

It was a pure and real love, one that no one underground would want to lose. Asriel more than anyone.

"I can't... I-I can't, I can't. No like this. We will find another way, but not this one.”

“I will not leave. Once I die you will have my soul forever. I will continue to be with you but… Differently.”

“I don't want it to be different, I want everything to continue as it is. Please.”

“Azzy… I won't let you stay here forever.”

Chara cradled the face of their sobbing friend, who, drowning in his own tears, threw himself into hugging them as if clinging to a wooden plank in the middle of the ocean. He hugged them gently for fear of hurting them, but with the strength necessary for them to feel his despair and the tears wetting their shoulder.

"And I won't let you die. I don't want to. I can't imagine a world without you. I don’t want let you go!”

He heard Charas laugh softly before hugging him back. At first they had surprised him how calm they was, until he too felt his shoulder getting wet with tears.

They both knew that this was a destiny from which they could not escape. No matter how much this hurt them, no matter what happened next, no matter how many times Asriel implored… Chara was already determined to sacrifice themself for monsters.

The most beautiful flower in the garden gave their vitality to the others. The flower that he loved the most died and he could do nothing to prevent it.

His flower...

Chara...

They was already withered.

#undertale #chasriel #chara x asriel #asriel x chara #oneshot #this is platonic maybe? #I'm not sure at all #sweetgirl90 #my drawings #chara dreemurr #chara #chara undertale #asriel #asriel dreemurr

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me- Chapter 3

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 5.7K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: Cannibalism (thanks Terminus), reference to past major character death, detailed gore, canon typical violence, canon divergence, reference to past child death, angry Daryl (if that counts), Daryl being mean about religion( IG?)

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: I will warn you, I kind of got carried away with Chapter 4, so get ready for that tomorrow. This one felt a little rushed, but the ending is worth it (I hope!) Enjoy!

For once, Daryl was cursing himself for being right. Terminus had been too fucking good to be true. Ask too many questions, and apparently, you get eaten. He was lined up, with Glenn, Bob and Rick, and apparently, he was the only one fighting against them. They just sat there and let them tie them up for fucks sake. He couldn't die, not like this. He wouldn't die just to be someones damn meal. Daryl got shoved in front of a trough-like bowl that stretched before the other men who were on either side of him. One look from Rick and Glenn made him pause, and he glared right back, breathing heavily, but he stopped fighting. The room was deadly still as two people dressed in butchers outfit came in, and he went cold. Fuck. They walked to the opposite end, grabbing the hair of a blonde guy at the end and one smacked him with a baseball bat. Once he was out, the other slit his throat, and immediately panic arose, and Glenn started panicking beside him. This continued down the line until it got to Glenn, and Daryl felt the dread building and building in his stomach, watching the blood run through the trough. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Glenn's hair got pulled back, and Daryl could tell the younger man was already apologising to Maggie in his head. The first butcher raised the bat above his head but was stopped when the leader, Gareth walked through.

"Hey, guys, what were your shot counts?" He asked, looking up from the clipboard in his hand. The first guy answered almost instantly with "38" but the guy with the knife hesitated "Hey! Your shot count"

"Crap, man, I'm sorry. It was my first roundup," He sighed. Daryl had to resist making a face of disgust. How could they discuss these things so casually as if they weren't killing people for food right in front of them?

"After you're done here, go back to your point and count the shells. Kaylee won't be gathering them until tomorrow. Oh, and also, did you both register your reports on that girl who tried to escape the other day?" Gareth questioned, raising an eyebrow. Rick narrowed his eyes at the man, while Bob started wriggling, and making small noises to get his attention. Both butchers gave responses of yes simultaneously "Great."

"What happened to her?" One asked, but Daryl couldn't determine which. Didn't fucking care at this point.

"Kaylee's got her. She's a fighter, I'll give her that. She'll break eventually. Don't worry about it," Gareth shrugged.

God these guys really were another level of asshole. If eating people didn't qualify that enough.

"Hey, let me talk to you for a minute! Let me talk to you for a minute. Let me talk to you for a minute!"Bob exclaimed, muffled through the gag. What the hell was he doing? Gareth turned back with an exasperated sigh, crouching down in front of him and yanking the gag out.

"What?"

"Don't do this. We can fix this," Bob tried to reason.

"No, you can't," Gareth rolled his eyes and moved to put the gag back in Bob's mouth.

"You don't have to do this. We told you there's a way out of all this. You just have to take a chance. We have a man who knows how to stop it. He has a cure. We just have to get him to Washington. You don't have to do this, man. We can put the world back to how it was," Now he was being stupid. Gareth was clearly a psychopath, there was no reasoning with a man like him. Daryl was, however, becoming increasingly aware of how long the guy at the end had been dead. He'd turn soon if they didn't deal with it.

"Can't go back, Bob," Gareth put the gag back in. Bob's eyes widened as he kept begging.

"We can! You don't have to do this!" Gareth rolled his eyes, turning to look at Rick instead. Daryl saw him stiffen, eyes hardening as he looked to the man who threatened his son. Gareth pulled the gag out and Rick held back a snarl, clutching the chunk of wood tighter

"We saw you go into the woods with a bag and come out without it. Had to pull my spotters back before we could go look for it. What was in it? You hid it, right? In case things went bad? Smart. Still, we'll find it. But it's too dangerous to go out there right now.," He suddenly grabbed Bob by the back of the neck and held a knife to his eye., but Rick didn't say anything. "What was in it? I'm curious. And it was a big bag. You really gonna let me do this?

"Well, let me take you out there I'll show you," Daryl watched the exchange carefully. Rick had started to go full Shane recently, and Gareth was messing with the wrong fucking guy.

"Not gonna happen. This might," Gareth moved the knife closer to Bob's eye, and he could see him trying not to flinch.

"There's guns in it. AK-47. .44 Magnum. Automatic weapons. Nightscope. There's a compound bow and a machete with a red handle. That's what I'm gonna use to kill you," Rick growled, glaring. The sharpened piece of wood he was holding was starting to make his hand bleed he was holding it so tightly.

Gareth only laughed, putting the gag back in "Thanks," He stood up and began walking back, calling to the two butchers "You have two hours to get them on the driers. I'm gonna go back to public face. Now's the time we can get messy, but we need to dial it all in by sundown."

The butchers nodded, pulling their goggles and gloves back on, but just when they were about to get back to work, they heard gunshots ring out from outside. Gareth looked at the window puzzled before pulling the radio from his side. Glenn's breathing was getting rapid as the panic built back up. One of the butchers raised the bat again slowly.

"Hey, Chuck?" Another gunshot sounded, stopping the butcher. Daryl looked around, meeting Rick's gaze briefly before a loud explosion shook the ground, knocking them to the floor, so Daryl was on the back of Glenn's legs. He could see black smoke through the window, and he already knew that there would be a herd of walkers following through.

"Hey, what the hell was that? Do you copy?"Someone on the radio asked, sounding slightly scared.

"You stay here," Gareth commanded, beginning to walk out.

"Gareth these guys aren't going anywhere-"

"Stay here until I know what's happening!" Gareth screamed, running out. The butchers exchanged a frustrated look, but stayed put, rising from the ground. Daryl and Glenn had started rubbing their wrists together hoping to break the zip ties holding them down, and Glenn let out a noise of pain.

"So we just sit here?" Knife guy asked

"Got a job to do," the Baseball guy replied, nonchalantly. They stood there for a minute, not even noticing Daryl and Glenns escape attempt, but the knife guy started pacing as they heard more and more gunshots. They started bickering. Daryl didn't even fucking care anymore. He had to get out of these restraints and get his family out of this shit hole. But apparently, while the butchers had failed to notice him, he'd failed to notice Rick, as he came behind one of them and stabbed him in the temple, then moved and stabbed the other in the neck. Except he stabbed the guy in the neck over and over and over, showing that Rick style homicidal rage, that stopped Daryl in his tracks. Rick rushed over and used the stake to tear his and Glenn's bindings, eyes frantic. Daryl stood up, tugging the gag from his mouth in relief.

"Sounds like a damn war," He huffed, picking up one of the knives from the table while Rick cut Bob free.

"What the hell are these people?" Bob asked, scrambling to his feet.

"They ain't people," Daryl remarked, and for a split second, his mind flickered to his girl. That was something she'd say. Maybe she'd rubbed off on him. But he couldn't think about that right now. He had to get out. Had to get them out. Bob went to stab one of the butchers in the head but Rick stopped him immediately.

"Don't. Let him turn."

The four men made their way out of the room, further into the slaughterhouse. They entered a room, where there were bodies hung up like animals, dried and headless. Daryl had never been someone with a weak stomach. Hell, all his years of hunting and the apocalypse had stopped that. But seeing the bodies made his stomach churn in disgust. Rick clearly had the same thought in mind.

"You cross any of these people, you kill them. Don't hesitate," He walked further in the room, Daryl following behind. He tucked the machete into his belt and picked up another knife and Rick looked over to him. "They won't."

Gunfire kept roaring from outside, and Daryl used his elbow to break off a chunk of metal from a machine. He didn't even want to know what it did. They reached the door and saw walkers crowded around a container, where some people were screaming for help inside, possibly some of Terminus' other hostages.

"If we run, we can get by them. They're distracted," Rick stated but Glenn shook his head.

"We got to let those people out. That's still who we are. It's got to be," Glenn replied, determined. Daryl didn't take his eyes off the walkers, knife out and ready to kill if he had to. There was a short pause, and Rick nodded, opening the door. All the noise from outside rose to an insane volume and it almost made Daryl's ears ache as he rushed out first, stabbing walkers, the rest of his boys right behind. It turned out the guy in the container was not only a member of Terminus but also absolutely batshit. They didn't have to worry about him long though - a walker took quick care of him, tearing out the muscles of his shoulder, as the guy screamed.

The place was overrun. There were walkers everywhere, and they weren't entirely sure how they were going to get out of this one. Daryl was more focused on keeping Glenn in place so he didn't do anything rash to get back to Maggie. He couldn't blame him. If (Y/N) were in that container still, he'd do something stupid to get back to her. Rick suddenly sprinted off, ignoring the groups' calls of his name. They watched as some of Terminus shot down a bunch of walkers, Rick crouched out of view behind a car. Daryl let out an annoyed growl. The damn fool was gonna get himself killed doing this. So, he followed after him, watching his back as Rick killed one of the Terminus men and stole his gun, using it to shoot walkers and Terminus alike. The walkers were helping to take out some of Terminus, but it was getting too full, and even Rick could see they wouldn't be able to get past all the walkers. He and Daryl ran back to Bob and Glenn, who looked pissed off that he'd run off again.

"We're gonna have to double back."

They made it back to the container their family was in and they pried the doors open. Daryl, Glenn and Bob were watching Rick's back as he instructed everyone, Abraham, Sasha, Michonne, Carl, Tara, Rosita, Eugene and Maggie, out of the box. But the annoying bastards just kept coming and coming. They were running out of time. Out of the corner of his eye, Glenn saw someone fighting a ginger woman. One of Terminus. The other woman was covered in walker's guts, using the disguising trick but he could see (H/C) hair. But he didn't think anything of it. She was probably just another hostage who was taking advantage of the situation. He couldn't worry about her now, he had to worry about his family. Daryl saw Carl and Rick talking for a split second before the chaos resumed, and they were fighting their way out, guts and blood spilling everywhere.

Anywhere you looked, there was a walker or a Terminus person. Daryl was leading, keeping his people safe from the front, and Rick was a the back. They were storming ahead, so so close to the fence. But Rick and Carl were slowing, from exhaustion and panic. Rick heard an awful yell from his son and spun around to see a walker gripping his sleeve and trying to pull his arm to its mouth. Rick went to rush forward, but the walker was suddenly dead, crumbling to the ground. Carls fearful eyes looked over and saw a woman, covered in guts, (H/C) sticking to her face and (E/C) eyes looking at him almost tenderly. Rick ran to his son, and pulled him away, staring the woman down. But she only narrowed her eyes and yelled "Go!" before disappearing into the crowd of walkers. Within seconds, she was gone. They didn't have time to dwell on it now. Gareth and the few members of Terminus that remained started shooting at them from the rooftop. They rushed through the rest of the walkers, ducking bullets and stabbing walkers and met their group at the fence. Daryl climbed over first, then Abraham lifted Eugene over, then Carl and the rest of the group, leaving himself for last.

When they were back at the bag, Daryl crouched down, taking a deep breath. Shit, that was way too close. They'd gotten lucky. Whoever had caused an explosion had saved their damn lives. And he didn't even know who it was. Maybe one of the idiots at Terminus had fucked something up and caused it. Or maybe someone was looking out for them. Hell if he knew. Hell if he cared anymore. His family was safe and that's all the mattered now. Rick started digging out the guns, mumbling out a plan as the rest of the group caught their breath, letting what just happened finally sink in. That is until Rick started talking about back to Terminus. They'd barely gotten out the first time! Some of the group started arguing back, but Daryl didn't give a shit anymore. He just leant against a tree, watching, listening.

A rustle of branches made him turn around and he froze, as the rest of the group did. They stared wide-eyed as Carol came out of the trees. They watched in amazement as Daryl sprinted over and dragged her into a tight hug, grasping onto her desperately and lifting her off her feet. She laughed lightly, grinning when he pulled back. Holy shit. She was alive. She was alive. She'd saved them. If anyone saw the tears running down his cheeks, no one said anything.

Daryl's feet were aching. The roads seemed to stretch on for miles. But the pain in his feet was nothing compared to the anger and undealt with grief. The losses were building up and up and he didn't know how much more he could take. Half the camp, Sophia, Dale, Shane (but no one really missed him), Patricia and Jimmy (though admittedly he didn't know them that well), Lori, T-Dog, Merle, Andrea, almost everyone who'd come to stay at the prison, Hershel, Bob, Tyreese... Beth. The only thing he was holding out hope for was his girl. Her ma lived in South Carolina, and with them being en route to Washington, he had to pray that maybe she made her way up there. Carl, Little Ass-Kicker and the hope of his girl were the only things keeping him going.

He'd started losing hope in his girl. Beth had died, and he'd been right fucking there. He was a hundred and more miles away from (Y/N). Now, she was strong, but he doubted she could live in a world like this. It'd destroy her. While he wanted to hold out hope and go looking for her, where would he even start? She could be anywhere by now, and there's no guarantee he'd even find her. An awful part of him wished she was dead. A disgusting, horrifying part of him, deep deep down, hoped she was dead so she didn't have to live a life like this. Didn't have to suffer like this. Deep down, Daryl knew she would hate the person he'd become. Probably hate him for what happened to Merle, too. He couldn't face that. He couldn't. Carol could see the way his eyes had drained. She could see what was happening. She was exhausted and hungry, but she wasn't blind.

She'd been hovering. Watching over him like a damn mother hen. He was getting sick and fucking tired of her constant gaze. He knew she only wanted what was best but god if he wasn't getting frustrated. Daryl could practically hear his girl's voice in his head, lecturing him about not being so cold to her, since Carol had done everything to protect him, and was his best friend. He snorted quietly at the thought of his girl standing there lecturing him, and being worried more about him and Carol than finding supplies. Sounded like her.

It was quiet now. No one spoke unless they had to. They were too weak. They hadn't had proper food in months, living off the little amount of food Daryl could hunt down, and the water was so scarce, some people were starting to get dizzy. Most of the food and water went to Judith and Carl now anyway. Everyone was hoping. Some, for the few that still believed in that shit, were even praying that we'd get some rain. But apparently, someone had seen them first and left them some water. Daryl and Rick eyed it suspiciously. Nowadays you could never be too careful. Abraham was still angry, but that wasn't anything new. That man was filled with more rage than anyone Daryl had ever met, except perhaps Merle. Shit, he missed that son of a bitch. Abraham was so angry that he smacked the bottle out of Eugene's hands when he went to take a sip. The atmosphere bristled, and Daryl could already tell an argument was about to start, and he shook his head, readjusting the bag and his crossbow. But it was all cut short when there were a few claps of thunder. Everyone looked up, hopeful glances being exchanged when the skies opened, and rain began pouring. Tara and Rosita started laughing, lying down on the floor, and some people opened their mouths to drink it before Rick ordered people to get out any bottles they had and filling them with the water. Daryl couldn't smile. He couldn't find enjoyment in it, and by the looks of it, neither could Sasha or Maggie. Every day it got harder or harder to meet her eyes. There was no blame on him, so he had no reason for guilt, but he couldn't help it. And it was eating away at him. Had been for the past three weeks.

The group were sat around a tiny fire, lightning flashing every so often and illuminating the room. Maggie was laying alone on the opposite end of the barn, and Carl was curled up behind Rick, clutching Judith to his chest. Carol walked over and plopped herself next to Daryl. Glenn was sat on his other side, engaging in an entirely different conversation. Daryl gave her a glance. She was staring at him, eyes narrowed like she was trying to read his mind, and it was starting to freak him out.

"You can't give up on her," Carol muttered, after a long moment of her staring him down. He scoffed, looking away. The hell did she know anyway. "You haven't given up yet, why give up now?"

"It's been nearly two years Carol. She's probably dead by now," He grumbled, watching the glint of his ring in the light of the fire. She shoved him lightly, her eyes moving to a glare.

"Don't talk like that," She snapped, quietly. Daryl kept his eyes on his ring, but he could feel the irritation starting to radiate off her. "You still wear your ring. You still carry that recorder. You've nearly broken a man's arm to get it back for god's sake. You can't give up on her. I won't let you."

For some reason, that got under his skin, and he could feel anger pouring in. It bubbled and boiled and his cold stare fixed on her so suddenly that Carol almost jumped.

"The hell ya gonna do to stop me?" He snarled. She didn't know shit about (Y/N) who the fuck was she to talk about his girl "You've never even met her. Ya don't know what she's like."

"No, I don't, but I know how much you love her. How much you're relying on her. And I can see how guilty you feel about Beth," Daryl was glaring now, and Carol understood she was walking into dangerous territory. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could have done. But you can't start separating yourself from us, from (Y/N). You'll get yourself killed."

"What do you care? I ain't your responsibility," He growled before picking up his crossbow before walking to a corner of the barn. Carol watched him leave and made no move to stop him. Glenn gave her an alarmed look, only having heard the tail end of the conversation. Who the hell was (Y/N)? Carol shook her head, telling him not to push it and he reluctantly looked back to the others, who were still deep in conversation. She then noticed the little recorder where Daryl had been sitting. It had a few chips, and it was dirty as hell, but Daryl had gone through hell to keep it safe. Carol picked it up and spun it in her hands, before opening Daryl's bag, wrapping it in a bit of cloth and tucking it away.

How they'd managed to convince Rick, he had no idea. Though, in honesty, Daryl thought he would have jumped at the opportunity to be somewhere where Carl and Judith would be safe. But after Terminus, he couldn't blame the man for being sceptical. This guy, Aaron, there was something off about him. He couldn't put his finger on what. Either way, part of him was relieved to be out of that damn barn. Stunk of horse shit. But getting holed up in a car service place tucked into a wall with a guy with a broken ankle, wasn't exactly that much better. Daryl's family was safe. Rick's family was safe. That's what mattered. When dawn rolled around, he was startled to find himself actually hoping for this place to work. They didn't have many other choices if it didn't. They couldn't have another Terminus situation. They were all piled into the small RV and an even smaller car, and it was definitely too close quarters for Daryl to be comfortable. As usual, it went to shit when the battery went flat. Glenn was quick to use the skills that Dale had taught him to fix it up, but Daryl had taken refuge on the roof, looking out for walkers. He could feel Carol and Glenn's eyes on his back. He'd much prefer it if that could just fuck off rather than giving those annoying ass pity looks.

When they pulled up, they heard a noise they hadn't heard in a long time. Children laughing. It felt almost alien to them, and maybe this place could work out. There were no kids at Terminus. Barely any at Woodbury. If kids were having fun here, maybe they had a chance. Collectively, the group sucked in a breath as the gate started to pull back. When it opened, a ton of pristine houses were revealed down long roads, children running in the street. Aaron helped Eric limp inside and someone took him and started leading him off, presumably to the infirmary. A bristle in the bushes made the group snap over, and Daryl didn't hesitate on pressing the trigger and picking up the possum, presenting it to the man behind the gate.

"We brought dinner!"He declared, and he heard some of the group stifle chuckles and smiles. The man behind the gate looked at them warily.

"It's okay, Nicholas," Aaron reassured, placing his hand out "C'mon in guys."

Gradually, the group started wandering in, Glenn and Daryl in the lead, as Rick held Judith tightly.

"Before we take this any further, I need you all the hand over your weapons," Nicholas stated, eyeing Daryl carefully, who still held the possums tail "Stay, you hand them over."

"We don't know if we want to stay," Rick responded instantly, somehow still looking threatening even with a baby at his hip "If we were gonna use them, we would have started already."

"Let them talk to Deanna, first," Aaron turned his head to Nicholas but was turned back by Abraham, who had his shoulders squared.

"Who's Deanna?"

"She knows everything you wanna know about this place. Rick, why don't you start?" Aaron advised, and Rick tilted his head. Daryl observed him, noticing the suspicion behind his eyes. Rick turned around at the sound of a walker snarling and signalled Sasha to take care of it. Headshot. Daryl tried to hide his smirk and the astounded look on Nicholas' face. Guy seemed like a jackass. He wanted to keep his eye on him.

The group were forced to sit outside on someone's porch (a house! what the fuck) while Rick was lead inside by a short, blonde-haired woman. She seemed innocent but she was hiding something. Daryl and Michonne could see it. In the way she held herself, the way she talked, the way she looked at them. When Rick came out about fifteen minutes later, Daryl was next to go in. He was still holding the possum, crossbow on his back as he was lead into the living room. It was nice. Untouched, as if the world hadn't ended outside the gates. He hadn't been in somewhere like this since before the apocalypse. Since (Y/N). He kept messing with random shit he could find. Pacing, restlessly. Deanna just sat on the couch opposite, her eyes following where he went. Acting like a damn hawk. She already pissed him off, and she hadn't even done anything. There was a video camera set up, recording everything. He had to thank Carol later for putting his back in his bag.

"You're welcome to sit, Daryl. I won't bite," Deanna finally said, and he looked up at her through long greasy hair, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm alrigh'" He replied quietly, turning to look at the bookshelf behind him. He didn't really know what he was doing, he just didn't want to have this awkward conversation and was trying to avoid it as long as possible.

"Daryl, do you want to be here?"She questioned, a touch of impatience in her voice but Daryl still didn't look at her.

"The boy and the baby. They deserve a roof. I guess," He answered, turning his ring with his thumb as it dangled by his side. Apparently, she didn't miss the motion.

"You're married?"

"Does it matter?" He shot back, voice becoming icy and there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"You'd be surprised," Deana smiled slightly and he glared back at her, his suspicion only raising further.

"The hell does that mean?" Daryl challenged, getting closer. She shook her head, smile dropping, before standing up and moving to turn the video recorder off.

"You're free to go."

"You okay?" Carl asked, making Daryl jump a little as he appeared at his side. Daryl knocked the brim of his hat, making Carl chuckle.

"That woman asks some weird questions," Was his reply, before he sat down, waiting for the others to finish their 'interviews'.

Rick looked between the two houses in amazement. He and Carl had left after Carl had finished talking, trusting Glenn and Maggie to look after his daughter. Aaron has whisked the pair away presenting them with the two houses they were giving the large group. He'd since walked away, walking down the road towards his house to look for Eric. Rick looked at his son, who had a grin on his face at the promise of being in a house again. Carl looked out after Aaron. A woman, maybe a little younger than Rick rushed out as Aaron neared, and wrapped her arms around him. Even from the distance, he could see the relief on her face and Aaron laughed lightly before leading her back inside. He was sure he'd find out who that was later.

Rick had insisted on staying in one house for the time being, just for safety, but Daryl wasn't complaining. He'd rather his family be together if they couldn't have their weapons. He felt almost naked without his crossbow. And he'd made very good work of pretending not to see Carl's knife. Smart kid. Daryl was sat next to Little Ass Kickers crib, peering over it protectively as Michonne came back through from the bathroom. She and Rick exchanged a hushed conversation when a knock at the door sounded, and Deanna walked in. She started talking but paused when she saw everyone huddled together rather than being separated. She gave some bullshit speech on family and how amazing it was, and Daryl rolled his eyes. He couldn't help it.

"Everybody said you gave them jobs," Rick said, but it sounded more like a question and Deana made a hum of agreement.

"It's part of this place. Looks like the Communists won after all," God if someone didn't put a bolt through her brain soon Daryl swore to whatever was up there he would. Rick gave a polite smile but it was strained.

"Well, you didn't give me one," He stated

"I have. I just haven't told you yet. Same with Michonne. I'm closing in on something for Sasha. And I'm just trying to figure Mr Dixon out, but I will," Daryl scoffed at that. Yeah, it took his group two years and they still haven't. Good luck with that. Deanna gave Daryl a smile, but it felt condescending. She looked back up at Rick "You look good."

And she was gone.

The group took off the next morning, going to explore, but Daryl stayed on the porch. Rick exited, raising his eyebrows at the redneck.

"They said explore. Let's explore," He almost commanded but he was smiling. First time in a long time.

"Naw, I'll stay," Daryl said, shifting. Deanna had dropped by earlier this morning and handed him his crossbow. He was still extremely confused as to why but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about it. Rick sighed, closing the door behind him.

"C'mon brother. Just come with us for a few minutes. Then you can come back here and brood all you like. Just pretend for a few minutes," Rick teased. Daryl scowled but Rick could see the playfulness in his eyes. It was nice, seeing Daryl slightly more at ease even if he was struggling to settle.

There was a long pause before Daryl gave a grunt of agreement, grudgingly picking up his crossbow and shoving it on his back. The pair jogged to catch up with the others, soon falling into the crowd of their family. They saw Aaron coming out of his house and Maggie raised a hand in a small greeting. He stepped over and the group started chatting. Daryl could tell the recruiter was hoping to clear the water a little bit. He didn't seem like a bad guy but Daryl couldn't let his guard down. But then someone followed out of Aaron's house, walking out onto the road and looking over to the family with a gleeful smile. Carl waved at her, recognising her from yesterday and she waved back. But the smile dropped, and Daryl froze in place like a statue. Carol noticed how stiff he'd gone beside her and followed his eyes and she froze too. A small smile climbed onto her lips. He couldn't breathe. He could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real.

"Daryl?"

But it was, she was right there. (H/C) hair blowing in the slight breeze and her eyes sparkling with building tears. Holy shit.

(Y/N).

His (Y/N).

Carol watched as the crossbow fell from his shoulder and Daryl shoved past his group and sprinted. He didn't think he'd moved so fast in his whole damn life because he blinked and all of a sudden, she was stood right before her. She stood there, taking him in. He couldn't breathe. She was there. She was right there. And he lunged for her, pulling her into him tightly, and placing a hand on the back of her head protectively. He could feel her fingers digging into his skin through his jacket, and he knew he couldn't let her go even if he wanted to. She was alive. She was here! Daryl wasn't a crier, that was for sure, but hell, he couldn't stop the relieved sobs he was letting out into her neck. She was whispering to him, though a trembling voice, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He just felt her, her breath on his neck, his fingers on his back, her hair tickling his nose, her tears on his chest.

"Holy shit, "Was all he could get out, and (Y/N) let out a weepy laugh, pulling back just enough so she could see his face. Her hands moved to hold his face, running her thumbs over his cheeks.

"If you haven't brushed your teeth, I am going to kill you, Dixon," she grinned, before pulling him into a hard kiss. He held onto her, even as the outside world started coming back to him. As he heard the confused voices of his family and Aaron. As he heard the joyful, but the slightly teary voice of Carol.

He just held onto her.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace​

#the walking dead #twd #Daryl Dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #phoebe writes #blame #daryl dixon #merle dixon #carol peletier #sophia peletier #rick grimes #carl grimes #lori grimes #beth greene #hershel greene #maggie greene #maggie rhee #glenn rhee #andrea twd #dale twd #Negan twd #negan #lucille twd #lucille #michonne #aaron #aaron twd #daryl x y/n #terminus #alexandria

[vampiresuns]

picrew credit

It’s Nana’s parents!!! [Insert Screaming Cat meme] Louisa is on the right, and Vlad on the left. Here’s a short bio and some fun facts under the cut:

🫀 Louisa De Silva 🫀

Name: Louisa Aureliana De Silva Lascal.

Meaning of the name: ‘Louisa’ means famous battle, ‘Aureliana’ means golden, gilded. She is named after her paternal grandmother (Louisa) and her mother (Aureliana).

Nicknames: Lulu, Lu, Lucha, Luchita (Lucha is the spanish diminutive for ‘Luisa’, it is, also a pun on ‘fight’, which in spanish is also “lucha”).

Family: Joaquín De Silva (father), Aureliana Lascal (Mother), Paris De Silva (younger sister, owns the Moonstone and Jasmine, the magic shop), Alma De Silva (younger sister), Aelius Anatole (son).

Place of birth: City of Altazor, Altazor, Antiqulla region (the westernmost end of the Bulan range)

Favourite Food: Pollo arvejado, with a side of rice and fries.

Favourite Drink: Chicha, with a lot of ice.

Favourite Flower: Dandelions

Birthday: Feb 22nd

Age: Mid to late fifties

Height: 5′7

Zodiac: Aquarius sun, Sagittarius moon, Pisces rising.

Patron Arcana: The Lovers, and Knight of Wands

Upright: partnerships, duality, union, Reversed: loss of balance, one-sidedness, disharmony  

Upright: action, adventure, fearlessness, Reversed: anger, impulsiveness, recklessness     

Gender & Orientation: Cis woman, bisexual.

Languages spoken: Alzor, Venterrean, Vesuvian Common Tongue, Balkovian, some Zadithi.

Magic: N/A, though Vlad has taught her a significant amount of alchemy, she is no magician.

Familiar: N/A

Occupation: Doctor

🥀 Vlad Radošević 🥀

Name: Vladislav Elyseo Radošević-Cassano

Meaning of the name: ‘Vlad’ means rule, and ‘slav’ means glory. ‘Elyseo’ comes from Elysium and means blissful. His middle name is after Elysian Juriša-Radošević, his grandmother.

Nicknames: Vlad, Eli (used exclusively by Valerian), Moj Mali (used exclusively by Mircea, means ‘my little one’)

Family: Matilda Cassano (biological mother, deceased), Krešmir Radošević (biological father, deceased), Mircea Radoševic (uncle and adoptive father), Florentino Cassano (uncle and adoptive father), Valeriy ‘Valerius’ Radoševic-Cassano (younger brother), Aelius Anatole (son).

Place of birth: Vesuvia — he considers himself Balkovian, however.

Favourite Food: Seafood peka.

Favourite Drink: The Blood Of His Enemies Coffee and Grapefruit soda, not together.

Favourite Flower: Heather, Tansy.

Birthday: October 25th

Age: Late fifties to 60.

Height: 6′5

Zodiac: Scorpio sun, Aries moon, Virgo rising.

Patron Arcana: The Lovers and King of Cups

Upright: partnerships, duality, union, Reversed: loss of balance, one-sidedness, disharmony  

Upright: compassion, control, balance, Reversed: coldness, moodiness, bad advice

Gender & Orientation: Cis man, bisexual.

Languages spoken: Balkovian, Vesuvian Common Tongue, Venterrean, Zadithi, Alzor, Nevivic, Hesperian. His Prakran is abysmal, but he can read it.

Magic: Alchemy.

Familiar: Cyrila ‘Kiki’ and Cecilia ‘Keke’, two Somali cats. You tell them apart because Kiki looks like she’s never produced a single thought in her life, and Keke because she looks like she thinks you’re a humongous idiot.

Occupation: Alchemist, researcher. 

Fun facts 🫀🥀

Vlad’s rapier (all the R-C have one) is called ‘Beheaded Voivode’. He can set the blade aflame through Alchemy.

Louisa was exiled from Altazor at the age of 20, then lived in Venterre and Zadith, were she finished her medical studies. She moved to Balkovia for what was supposed to be a 6 months programme and scientific coven, but then she met Vlad and she ended up staying. She was exiled for opposing the dictatorial regime existing in the country.

While Louisa knows alchemy —which she learnt to become a better doctor— she doesn’t consider herself a magic user. She, however, can lend her life force to Vlad if the need arises. This creates a unity of energy between them which Vlad can channel into more powerful alchemy. This is because they’re beneficiaries of The Lovers.

Thematically both of them are about breaking bad parenting cycles. Vlad’s parents were notoriously irresponsible, neglectful and despondent parents, with Matilda being even cruel and purposefully hurtful. Louisa’s were extremely unaccommodating, strict to the point of traumatising and extremely hypocritical. Neither of them wished to have children until they realised they could do it together.

Vlad and Louisa did not marry until the war in Balkovia ended. It began months before Anatole was born, and it ended when he was around the ages of three/four.

Vlad calls Anatole ‘Lilu’ and ‘Lily’, it comes from little.

Vlad’s monocle is functional. It’s made of alchemy altered glass and it’s the design of a group of fellow alchemists and Vlad himself. He has very little vision on his left eye due to almost blowing up a room trying to stabilise fireroot. He was successful, making him the first person to ever stabilise the compound through a stable, long-lasting method. In the future, Anatole uses his father’s alchemic breakthrough to provide public lighting to the streets of Vesuvia. This method is currently used in Balkovia for public buildings, since it requires very little money to run.

Both of them are quick tempered, but understanding with people they love. It’s if they don’t like you the problem.

Originally, Vlad thought Louisa was an alchemist because she was describing the process of lightening up a Molotov.

Louisa knows how to use firearms. She learnt in Altazor, when she began getting involved in the fight and protest against the dictatorship in it. She still has good aim, but is out of practice and prefers it that way. She prefers to focus in ways to help those affected.

Her best medicine is ER medicine and field medicine. She is trained to be a war doctor and was a volunteer when time permitted in the Balkovian war.

While Louisa’s relationship with her parents eased with time, it is not good. She prefers to keep them at a distance.

Originally, Aureliana and Joaquín opposed Louisa marrying Vlad. They even tried to make her go back to Altazor or at least Venterre when the war began, but Louisa told them she would rather take out her own femur and eat it. She, clearly, harboured a lot of resentment for them, as they were key to her exile. 

Louisa’s favourite Radošević outside of her husband was Elysian. It was the first time she had a positive role model whose politics were the same as hers, and didn’t punish her for it.

Vlad’s biggest personality trait is ‘I Love My Wife, I Love My Son’.

Louisa was one of the few doctors to treat poor people in Vesuvia who caught the Plague.

Vlad can only draw objects (for invention designs) and buildings.

Both of them read a lot. It’s not weird to find them having reading dates.

Vlad has a series of Alchemic symbols tattooed around his wrist. He uses them as magic on-the-go.

When raising Anatole, they privileged communication, autonomy, self-expression and support more than anything else. Even through his argumentative teenager phase.

Speaking of their son, Anatole takes after Louisa in terms of politics, moral compass, and determination to see things done and to do what is right.

Vlad’s politics can be summarised in “If you’re told not to tamper with the shelf, and you do, and it falls on your head, then that was your own damn fault”.

Whenever Vlad began brooding because he was “sure” Louisa didn’t like him, his cats bit him.

Louisa housed and protected her sister Paris when she ran away from Altazor looking for her, upon discovering the real reason why her sister was sent away. Paris showed up out of the blue at her doorstep. Their other sister, Alma, helped her orchestrate the escape.

Louisa gets ready in 30 minutes, tops. Vlad in 2 hours.

While Valerius acts like he can’t stand her, he actually loves and respects Louisa a ridiculous amount.

Vlad is more emotional than Louisa but has more trouble showing it. He’s gotten better with time.

Vlad sails. Louisa always makes fun of him for being insanely competitive, but joke’s on her because she’s just as bad. As a true Aquarius sun and a Sag moon, she hates being told what to do. Whenever she gets like that, Vlad just looks at her with heart eyes.

Vlad is closest to Violeta Radošević, Milenko’s mother, out of his generation of cousins. 

Except for formal occasions, Louisa doesn’t wear shirts or dresses that go past her ankles. Prefers them to the calf, as she needs to be able to move freely (she moves a lot).

It’s very likely Louisa is the one with undiagnosed ADHD out of the two of them, hence where Nana gets it from. She’s never checked. 

Louisa loves dancing (so does Vlad but he hates admitting it), and she taught Anatole most of what she knew. As she grew up, she was constantly in dancing lessons, inspired by her own mother’s love of ballroom dancing. It’s one of the few things she’s fully grateful about.

This is more of a language fun fact than anything else, but Alzor and Nopali are extremely similar languages, and are almost virtually interchangeable.

They both stand by ‘one child is enough’ but end up adopting all of Anatole’s friends on accident, sometimes, even his partners a little, depending on the verse we are in.

Finally, out of the Arcana canon characters, Vlad would get along the best with Nadia, Salim and Aisha. Louisa would get along the best with Nadia, Julian and Portia.

#the radosevic-cassano #vlad radosevic #louisa de silva #vlad and louisa #the arcana #the arcana oc