#brainrotting hours strikes again

[leafiebeanie]

thinking about rntn upstairs and downstairs neighbors

kyo lives on the floor above tan, where the wind picks up very easily

the poor man's gaudy flame undies always end up falling into tan's balcony—kyo used to just climb down from his balcony to retrieve his fallen laundry

bc it was empty, but he cant do that anymore bc tan has moved in now, so he has to go through the mortifying ordeal of knocking on tan's door to get his laundry back

at this point, kyo might as well just buy newer and stronger clothes pegs, but it keeps slipping his mind

tan doesnt mind keeping kyo's laundry aside for him, secretly enjoying these little interactions between them

back when kyo didnt know tan had moved in, their first interaction was tan staring at him wide eyed with his unpacked boxes while kyo hung from the upper balcony

as time passes, tan doesnt wait for kyo to come knocking on his door anymore, having already taken kyo's work schedule to heart

he'll drop by kyo's apartment with some home-cooked food and the laundry, and kyo will invite tan in so they can share a meal together

tan has an embarrassing secret though—he knows its bad, invading kyo's privacy, but he cant resist bringing kyo's freshly laundered boxers to his nose and taking a deep whiff of it 🤭🤭

and he berates himself mentally over it, but the devil on his shoulder tells him its alright as long as kyo doesnt know

but kyo /does/ know—he's seen tan picking up his laundry when he came home from work slightly earlier one day, with some cake he wanted to share with tan

was about to greet tan with a wave of his hand from down on the streets, quietly bringing his hand back to his side

watching as the boy stared at the piece of fabric in his hands for a good long while, seemingly unaware of his surroundings, before bringing it to his face

is barely aware of the quiet rustle of the plastic bag as he clenches his fist around it, his breath catching in his throat

he stands behind a lamp post, hiding from tan's view, watching until the boy walks back into the apartment

when he comes back to his senses, kyo pointedly turns around and walks away to the nearest cafe, ordering himself a latte to cool his head

he comes home late that day, finding a plastic bag hanging on his doorknob with dinner, a note, and that very pair of godforsaken boxers that tan has sniffed earlier

kyo brings them inside and sets the now warm cakebox down on the table, opting to wash his face first

he spends far too long in the bathroom with the waters running, unable to get the sight of tan sniffing his underwear out of his head

kyo finds that theres a pool of desire burning in him, and his cheeks flush when he feels his length straining against his pants

it was undeniably hot, and kyo would be lying if he said he never once saw tan in that sort of light, but he had chided himself then

now, he wasnt sure if he had enough self control to stop himself, knowing that the boy shared a naughty little secret like his

ashamed, kyo unbuckles his belt slowly, hoping that his boner would go away on its own

when it becomes evident that its not going away anytime soon, he grits his teeth and brushes a few fingers against his length gingerly

it feels so unabashedly good

and he cums to the mental image of tan's blushing face buried deep im his flaming boxers

he takes a moment to bask in the afterglow before glancing down at his cum stained hand

oh, he's done it now, he thinks

theres no way he can look at tan the same way anymore

#rentan #kyotan #brainrotting hours strikes again #leafiewrites #kyoutan

[sungbeam]

am i... supposed to... be fine...?

no ,,, , i suppose not 😔 goddamn (i can't decide what my fav hair color on san is lol skxndkd)

#sungbeam strikes again #chip 🎶 #moot ❧ #nana brainrot #jeno simp hours #choi san !!!

[crystalflygeo]

Sinful voice. ft "Morax" + fem!reader (modern AU)

cw/tags: Voice kink, daddy kink, dirty talk, female masturbation, uuhh fantasizing? petnames (sweetheart, sweetie, babygirl, darling).

notes: I literally had this sudden brainrot idea today at work (rip) and as soon as I came home I typed all this in a rush and bOI. That man's voice is just...... no words. Drives me insane, wild, crazy, feral.

To say you were nervous was an understatement.

You were starting a new chapter of your life, fresh into college, moving to a whole other city to dedicate to your studies and enter the “adult world”

You’d arrived a few weeks early to move in and start settling on your little space, it was barely a small room in a house you’d share with other new students. You’d even share a kitchen but hey, at least each one had a tiny individual bathroom for yourselves.

Tomorrow was the big day. Your first day. And although you’d heard many people say they would just take it easy or even skip the first few days (because “they were not that important” as schedules and teachers were still being organized) you’d heard just as many stories about how college was difficult and important and you gotta make good first impressions and familiarize and meet new people and blablabla…

It was pretty nerve-wracking.

So here you are, way past midnight, rolling over in bed unable to calm down.

You sigh and start messing around with your phone, bored. Maybe you can just skip tomorrow?

Or maybe…

You bite your lip. There’s a little something you can do to… relax.

Before you can even think, your fingers are already typing the familiar webpage name on the phone, already smiling mischievously.

In your search for a little “spice” for your solo pleasure sessions you often went for audios and ASMR content. The sounds and voices were much hotter than excessively raunchy lame crude run-of-the-mill videos in your honest opinion. All you had to do was get comfy, close your eyes, and immerse on the fantasy. It was bliss.

And so, a few months ago you had found him.

Morax.

Oh, that man had a voice to die for, deep and rich like syrup, making you shiver and whine every time. His content was absolutely top-notch and you’d been instantly drawn like a moth to a flame ever since you’d managed to drag out one of your best orgasms ever after listening and playing along for a few minutes.

And when you dug around and found his subscription page? Oh boy, you were a goner.

You can only imagine what your parents would say if they knew you spend money on something like this but hey, financial independence means you can spend your money (from part time-jobs and whatnot) on whatever you want.

And damn you want this sexy voice murmuring dirty praise on your ear.

You scramble out of bed, grabbing your earphones and getting rid of some of your clothes before settling down again comfortably, pillow propped against the headboard, almost giggling excitedly as you scroll around the page’s contents.

Morax was obviously an experienced dom. His content covered a myriad of different kinks and scenarios, many of which you had even only started to explore because of him. And though his voice was always calm and refined, with this sweetness and dominant tilt to it, his growls and groans could be just as wild. Morax sounded downright sinful when angry, scolding or degrading the listener. And his moans and soft chuckles? Oh, you could just faint with those.

Or come, probably. Yeah.

“Daddy fucks you in his lap” “Overstimulating my pet’s little clit” “Grind your sweet pussy on Master’s leg” “Waking you up with my big cock” “Making you my good girl” “Cum until you cry and beg”

You blush as you look at the titles, skimming around tags and descriptions looking for whatever strikes your mood tonight. Heck, anything would be fine if it was him though, you swore you weren’t even into the whole daddy kink before you heard Morax but now…

Oh.

Well lucky you, he’d just uploaded something new a few hours ago, you were one of the first views… ever the fangirl, huh? You click on it as you subconsciously lick your lips. Gods, your body feels hot and needy already, knowing what’s to come.

“Daddy spoils your little pussy” reads the caption, and you place your phone by your side, lying down, propping your legs and closing your eyes.

Oh, oh my god. Your breath catches as the audio starts off right away with some lewd wet noises. Usually, Morax would sweet talk for a bit first to set the scene and mood, but you sure weren’t complaining!

Your heartbeat speeds up as your hands start rubbing at your legs and over your panties, just trying to get your body up to speed.

“Hmmm… oh, there you are sweetheart.” Gods. Morax’s voice. You already wanted to moan at the deep baritone vibrating in your ears. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”

How ironic that you couldn’t sleep yourself.

His voice drags, sounds a little tired and hoarse, it just adds to it and you picture him kissing and dragging his tongue along your skin “You like that don’t you baby? Feeling my lips… tracing your hipbone like this. I can feel the goosebumps blooming along your skin.”

Oh goosebumps alright, you shiver as you rub at your skin a little impatient, how you wish you really had his lips worshipping you right now.

“You don’t even have to do anything, you can even just go back to sleep, if you’d like.” He chuckles. “But daddy just needed you, he needed his… hmm… sweet babygirl.”

“Hng Morax yes… need you too, daddy.” You whisper softly, already shifting on the sheets.

He continues to kiss and whisper sweet nothings about how he wants to make you feel good, kiss you and pamper you and make you relax, and you melt. His soft breathing and wet sucking and kissing noises turning you on instantly.

“Alright sweetie let’s take these panties off.” There’s a slight rustle of fabric in the audio as you quickly strip off your own underwear along. “That’s a good girl. Hmm… look at your sweet little pussy, already wet and swollen for me.” He groans and you whimper and buck your hips.

“Oh god please…” You’re so keyed up already. Morax simply has that effect on you, and you wish he would hurry so you can start touching where you most need it.

“Hmm… just relax sweetheart. Lie down and let daddy take care of you… of your cute little pussy.” More erotic noises follow as you picture him slowly going down and down until he kisses and licks at your folds. “Oh, that tickles sweetie?” Another sinful chuckle.

His voice, his voice was just so good. You’d wondered many times what kind of man would have such a deep hypnotizing voice. Surely he was older, but maybe not quite a silver fox. Dark hair, maybe? A large frame, broad shoulders, lean muscles but still elegant, a proper gentleman to go with his personality.

You knew he had golden eyes, that was a fact. Well, at least what he’d mentioned in a couple of scenes, it could very well be a lie but you wanted to believe in that mysterious domineering golden glow, staring up at you like molten heat from above you or between your legs.

Morax’s voice keeps feeding your fantasy, commenting how wet you are, how your body twitches, how he drags, slow and languid around your hole and oh, it’s like your body responds exactly the way he wants, guided by him.

“Darling, let me just… hmm… suck on your cute little clit like this.”

“Ah!”

A shock of pleasure runs trough your veins as you start rubbing on the little nub. His voice muffled, moaning as he sucks and licks and sighs deeply, clearly enjoying this.

“So sweet, so good for me. Oh, it makes daddy just ache for you sweetheart.”  

You want Morax’s cock in you yesterday.

His voice turns breathy and strained, the noises and tension intensifying as you rub faster, legs shaking, your breath coming out in gasps to match his, back arching off the bed. It’s all so good, his praise, his dirty words, his gasps, his moans.

“Come on sweetie, I know you want my big cock but first… hng… first daddy wants you to cum hah… do that for me princess? Come for daddy, come on.”

“F-fuck… fuck… hnnng” You mewl. “M-Morax…”

“I got you darling I’m right here, you can cum baby I want to taste you.”

“Ah A-Ah!” Your mouth parts into a silent scream and your whole body tenses and shudders, pleasure buzzing in your veins and under your flushed sweaty skin. Your juices spill against your hand but you imagine them wetting his chin as his voice groans and moans in your ears. You picture those half-lidded sultry golden eyes glowering at you.

“That’s a very good girl…” He chuckles, and your hazy mind can picture him nuzzling at your inner thighs. “Now, now get ready babygirl, give me your legs like this.” A noise of sheets shifting registers in your brain “Around my shoulder and let me just… hng… stroke my big cock ready for you.”

Oh you were floating, your head was spinning, you parted your legs, following his every command, fingers still rubbing at your oversensitive folds to simulate whatever he was doing. You moan at the slick jerking sound and vaguely lament not having something to fill you up as he would.

“Hmm… we’re just getting started, my dear.” He hisses.

The night was long and the audio not even halfway…

———————————————————–

Even though you ended up going to sleep way past any reasonable time you didn’t really feel tired. In fact, you slept wonderfully, warm and sated. And so, you headed up to class with a carefree skip and bright smile, excited to see what this new day and new year would bring you.

The classroom was rather big but looked pretty empty even though the professor was already there, you slid into one of the front seats and quickly checked the time. You weren’t late or anything, he was just… punctual and early, it seems. Which is more than can be said by the majority of the students… if they are even coming to the class.

Some general studies were mandatory classes, though you’d only had to take a couple courses before moving to subjects more in line with your chosen career. But for now, seems like you had to deal with… history.

The professor was, well… handsome, to be quite honest. And you found yourself quietly admiring him from afar. Prim and proper with long silky dark hair in a low ponytail, a perfectly neat and brown suit, and thin elegant glasses that only drew more attention to his striking gold eyes. Not a crease in sight, not a hair out of place.

He was rather meticulous it seems, with the way he organized his material, checking the time before starting the class on the dot.

“Greetings everyone, my name is Zhongli.” He smiles warmly. “I believe a welcome in is order as this is your first day of college, a new stage of your life.”

No way.

Absolutely no fucking way.

His voice…

“Seems like you’re stuck with me for your very first class.” He chuckles.

Low and deep and velvet.

Oh, you know that exact same sound.

Your eyes widen.

Oh shit.

Mr. Zhongli is Morax…

“Let’s hope this year shall be a good and prosperous one, hm?”

#genshin smut #zhongli smut #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #crys writes #fem reader #professor zhongli #SIKE did you like that lil plot twist at the end??? #lmao it was hella obvious but I still didn't wanna ruin it from the start by putting it in the title #idk how to tag cw #LISTEN #ZHONGLI'S VOICE IS PURE SIN I CANNOT #SCREAMING AT MY OWN WRITING #MIGHT HAVE AN IDEA FOR A FOLLOW UP ALREADY HMMMMMM

[galazry]

please don't ignore me...

pairing: kabukimono x gn!reader [established relationship] genre: modern!au, fluff(?), definately not angst tho content: kabukimono is a clumsy guy and you finally got upset at him words: 496 a/n: based on this brainrot! i just love how kabukimono is this sweet guy, always seeing the best in others... all in all, don't give anyone the silent treatment :(

Everyone knows Kabukimono, and not for a good reason. He was infamous for being the clumsy guy; always tripping over stuff, accidentally bumping into things, and even misplacing and forgetting the things that he had just placed. At first, you weren't too bothered by it. In fact, you actually find his clumsiness rather adorable. Though, it was always worrying to see fresh new bruises from him bumping into the table.... However, as time passed by, what was once seen as something adorable was now... mildly infuriating.

As always, he was being his clumsy self— bumping into a glass door, tripping over the last flight of stairs, and the sorts. Although today, in your eyes, he had done the worst crime possible; Kabukimono had misplaced your pen and it was now currently missing. It wasn't any other ordinary pen, it was your favourite one; one that you firmly believe brought lady luck to your side whenever you do your exams. You're upset, but you didn't exactly want to yell at him, as you were too tired to do so. So, you did the next "best" thing...

Give Kabukimono the silent treatment.

Even after he had apologized, your boyfriend knows you're still upset— with the way your eyebrows furrowed and with how you were exhaling loudly— Kabukimono was ready for any harsh words coming from you, a raise in voice, anything. Instead he was met with silence. Confusion was written all over his face as you kept ignoring him, not even giving him a single glance. He thought maybe you needed time to regulate your emotions out, after all, it was your favourite pen. Therefore, he gave you some space for a bit, waiting for you to strike a conversation with him first.

One hour pass...

Three hours pass...

Eight hours pass...

The once lively apartment was still, as if no one had been living inside of it. Poor Kabukimono was getting anxious as his thoughts began to spiral. Do you not love him anymore? Are you going to break up with him? Have you finally gotten tired of him? He finally gathered up what little courage he had to go to you.

Just as he had expected, you were in the living room, still giving him the silent treatment. To be fair, you knew what you were doing was childish considering that Kabukimono had misplaced your pen by accident, and he had already apologized for his actions. You decided to finally talk the problem out with your boyfriend before you felt a pair of arms embracing you from behind. A quite sniffle breaks the lingering silence as you felt Kabukimono's face burying into the back of your neck.

"[Y/N]... I'm sorry... I'm really sorry... Please... Please forgive me... I promise I won't do it again... I'll try harder to not be clumsy... So please don't ignore me like this... You can get upset at me, call me names, yell at me, anything... But please..."

"Don't ignore me..."

#gala writes #kabukimono #kabukimono x y/n #kabukimono x you #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono fluff #kabukimono x reader fluff #kabukimono x y/n fluff #kabukimono x you fluff #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche fluff #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer fluff

[neocitybooty]

Honey, I'm home. [M]

Summary: Your husband is constantly away but he makes up for it once he returns.

Genre: Smut, Aged up (early 30s)

Characters: Mark Lee, femme reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex, bodily fluids

A/N: Just some more Mark brainrot. This is also a treat because I've been so busy with life. I'm going to continue with my ongoing fics after this :)

You felt movement from the other side of the bed and a pair of arms wrapping around your waist, shortly after. You slowly blinked out of your sleep and stirred as you were greeted by the moonlight.

It was late.

You waited until midnight, but your husband, Mark…He didn’t show.

Disappointment was no foreign concept to you and it seemed to be a recurring theme in your marriage. You knew it wasn’t Mark's fault and you were well aware of what marrying him would mean for you. The kind of life you would live. Wealthy and pampered… but hidden.

No public posts. No public dates. Lonely birthdays. Lonely holidays.

At least for the time being.

But you loved him. And you knew he loved you too. Some things just couldn’t be helped.

“Babe..” Mark whispered softly in your ear. The familiar and innocent tone was enough to cause your lips to tug upward. You turned your body to wrap your arms and leg around him.

He chuckled and squeezed you tighter as you both buried your faces into each other’s neck.

“Yeah, I missed you too.” Mark said into your neck as he slid his hand into your shorts and softly rubbed your bare ass cheek. He gave it a firm squeeze before finally kissing you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt the warm flesh against your own. He pulled away but you immediately kissed him again.

He looked at you with a puzzled look on his face and you couldn’t help but caress his cheek as the cheekbone rose at a slant and his amused eyes twinkled underneath the moonlight.

“You want to do this right now?” Mark asked you. His voice was low and raspy. Taunting. He knew what you wanted. Because he wanted it too.

You didn’t get a chance to answer. Mark was already pulling off your shorts before you could process your thoughts.

A few hours prior, you were upset. You were complaining to your sister about missing out on yet another holiday because your husband wasn’t in town. You would be going to bed alone, with nothing but an “I love you” to keep you from reaching the brink of insanity. It was reassuring, but it just wasn’t enough. His physical presence was what you truly longed for.

Mark told you…. He told you….you wouldn’t spend Valentine’s day alone this year.

And yet...

You did. But in this moment, you believed a strike against him wouldn’t be fair. In the end, you would be falling asleep in his arms.

“I’m sorry I got back so late, baby. I rushed here as fast as I could.” He softly said into your ear, his tone genuinely apologetic.

You moaned in response as he slipped your lace underwear off of you. A trail of warm kisses decorated your neck as his fingers found his way between your legs. You kept your arms wrapped around his neck and shifted your head so you could kiss him deeply. You were now on your side and draped your leg over him once again.

You gasped and went stiff when you felt Mark’s fingers intrude your wet hole, his thumb gently rubbing your nub. The both of you could hear the squelching of your fluids as he found a steady rhythm. You let out a loud moan as your hips started to gyrate against his fingers.

“Shh, baby. You’re going to wake up the neighbors.” Mark kissed behind your ear and muttered a curse underneath his breath. “Just focus on me.”

Oh how you've missed this.

He brought his lips back to your's and you grew more aroused as your hips and tongue moved along with Mark’s fingers as he continued to slowly move his digits inside of you. You could feel his smile against your lips each time your body would tense up and you would clench around his fingers. But your mind was preoccupied with the taste of his hungry lips.

His kisses were urgent. Needy. Every kiss was as passionate as the last and you only wanted more.

He finally removed his fingers and you felt as though you were breathing for the first time. You heavily exhaled and moaned softly as your hips rolled, the feeling of emptiness becoming unbearable.

“Shiit.” Mark examined his glistening fingers. In awe at the amount of fluid that transferred. “You missed me this much? I can’t wait to show you how much I've missed you.” He bit his lip and gently pulled you onto him, slowly moving his hips as you straddled him.

You felt his hard cock underneath you and it finally dawned on you that Mark had been naked the entire time. He moaned softly when his tip made contact with your wet opening and you reacted by grabbing it and squatting right above it.

Mark reached over to the nightstand and turned on the dim lamp. You smiled at him once the light revealed his features. He responded with a warm smile that reached his eyes and gave you a nod. He did always love to watch.

You held eye contact with him as you slowly lowered yourself, letting his member disappear into your wet core. You gasped as you felt yourself stretching to accommodate his size after months of using alternatives that just didn’t measure up.

Mark whimpered underneath you and slid a hand up into your shirt to fondle a breast. You put your hand over his and started to ride him. Mark let out a breath as his eyes rolled back and he sank even lower into his pillow. You lifted yourself again and lowered slowly enough for you to savor the feeling. You let out a soft moan as you felt yourself getting wetter as the movement grew easier.

“Fuckkk.” Mark shook his head softly and bit his lip again. "Baby, I'm going insane…." Mark could barely finish the sentence before a quiet moan took over. His eyes shut tighter as his fingers dug deeper into your flesh. You yelped when he suddenly started fucking into you. You leaned forward, eventually switching from your feet to your knees, and rested your hand on his chest, a familiar sensation forming in your lower region.

“Are you close, baby? Wait for me. Let’s finish together, yeah?” Mark breathed out as he continued pounding into you. He pulled you into his chest and held your hands behind your back, by the wrists. His eyebrows scrunched together as he began to concentrate so he could last longer- but you began to shake.

“Oh babe no, wait.” Mark whined and gently flipped you over so he was on top. You moaned as he repositioned himself while still inside of you. He filled you up in ways you never thought possible,

You squirmed underneath him as months of pent up sexual frustration surged through Mark’s body. He plunged deeper into you with a long grunt and you instinctively held onto him.

“You take it so well.” He grunted into your ear as he pinned each hand to the sides of your head. He nuzzled his chin into your neck and exhaled as your entire body moved in unison with his thrusts. “I’m so close, baby. Oh fuck..”

You wrapped your legs around him as he stiffened and groaned. You felt the warmth of his seed spill into you as Mark rested on you.

He sighed and propped himself up to look at you with a smile.

“I didn’t finish…” You said softly.

“I've gathered….give me a few minutes and I’ll take care of it.” Mark said as he held eye contact with you. A small smile formed on his lips as he started to caress your cheek.

“Can you do that thing that I like?” You asked him shyly.

Mark let out a small laugh and kissed you. “We’re gonna need a towel.”

#nct smut #kpop fanfic #nct fanfic #kpop au #nct 127 smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #mark lee smut #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios

[lorebite]

             𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒

             𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: six years ago, in the harrowing outbreak that swallowed Raccoon City, you were a young promising scientist who happened to stand on the wrong side of history as it unraveled. But alas, fate brought you to Leon Kennedy who was just as terrified as you amidst the horrors that took place. Today, you find yourself in a similar position, bound by the conditions of your environment and in dire need of help. It just so happens that Leon is there to share it with you again. But the thing is - you're supposed to be dead.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ minors dni. cursing. fem reader. a bit of slowburn in the beginning. explicit sexual material: cunnilingus, handjob, cum eating and finger sucking, a bit of hair pulling, desperate touch starved subby Leon cos 😩. slight angst; mentions of reader being infected and nearly dying in the past. mentions of a previous sexual relationship between Leon and reader. pet names used: honey, sweetheart, big boy (just once cos I couldn't fucking resist). probably very ooc for Leon. beware, this is the result of my brainrot for this man so I got super carried away with the descriptions!

Your temples pulsated with every throbbing heartbeat, whipping pain striking through your skull as pressure culminated behind your eyes. Everything hurt. Your body felt like a slaughter on a hook, weighted and burdened, swaying heavily against the gravity. 

You listlessly opened your eyes, fingers twisting rigidly as you drank in your surroundings though not much you could see through the fog blanketing your mind. You heaved a grunt and willed yourself to move, the soles of your feet skidding along the ground. 

The room swam before your vision; the memories of hours past a vague impression lurking in the back of your mind as you struggled to recall them. It was impossible to tell how long you’ve been out but a small glance down at yourself told you that your captors hadn’t been so generous with your belongings; your sole pistol absent from its usual place in your holster. 

In a feat of panic, you shifted your boot to feel for the combat knife hiding just inside and when you felt its bulge press into your skin, you breathed a sigh of relief. Though that solace was short lived when you became aware of the presence in the room.

There was movement behind you. Your arms twitched unwittingly in their restraints, tugging you higher on your toes. You spun to face its source, wide eyed and alarmed, assuming the plain worst of it. You expected to see the unwelcoming blade of a Ganado invading your face but the sight of the man before you made the breath hitch in your chest. 

Leon. Oh, Leon. It had been so long. You recognized him instantly despite the many years of change to his physic. His once vibrant eyes were fixated in a glare; his silken hair danced like threads of ribbon around his face and his large arms flexed as he fought with the chains that bound him to you. You couldn’t believe it. It was really truly him. 

Fate was a twisted game bringing you back to him after so many years, forcing you to face the one thing you feared the most. Not the near collapse into nothingness of that vicious outbreak; and not the ceaseless hours of quarantine you spent in that wretched facility, the unabating dread of falling through the claws of inhumanity – now that you were here, almost neither could amount to this moment. 

“The chains don’t break like that, you know.” Your voice came much more hoarsely than you had anticipated, your throat constricting dryly. “You’re only gonna hurt us both.”

Leon merely spared a narrow-eyed stare over his shoulder before he yanked intentionally harder at the restraints, his muscles rippling from the pressure. You reeled on your toes, wrists tugging painfully against the rust. You laughed through a grimace.

“Cheap shot, Leon. Not all of us are made like you.” 

“That’s rich coming from someone who should be dead.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re happy to see me.”

Another feat of laughter tore through your teeth before it quickly waned into a sharp gasp as he hurled you forward again, making you nearly collide with his broad chest.

“Christ. Easy with that.” You winced, skin protesting under the harsh assault of iron.

“Didn’t think to let me know you haven’t kicked the bucket, yet?”

You grinned. “I didn’t know you cared so much.” His eyes narrowed into slits, brows drawn in a deep frown; evident signs that he didn’t particularly enjoy your unnervingly carefree attitude. “Oh, wait—of course, you do. I was welcomed very warmly by your little friends. They seemed to have a harder time letting go.” 

Leon’s lips fell agape though he quickly collected himself. The miniscule reaction; however, didn’t slip from your attention. You scoffed a laugh in realization. 

“Let me guess. They didn’t tell you, did they?”

He opened his mouth to speak but his eyes quickly trailed away from your face. They pinned to an indefinite point over your head, briefly widening with alarm before he forced himself past you, making you lurch to the ground shoulder first.

A strained groan rumbled in your throat as you struggled to shift to your side. Your eyes shot to the villager slinking into the room with an axe reared for assault and they broadened in panic. Leon – as he pulled down more urgently on the iron chains – kicked at his chest and sent him staggering back. Though it didn’t take long for him to recover and come rushing back towards you growling.

You stumbled back to your feet as Leon freed your shared link from the ceiling, circling the space and seizing the unoccupied corner behind the Ganado where he swung his arm blindly, neck now wrung within the chains. 

“Good thinking,” you praised breathlessly, letting a crooked smile to your lips. 

Leon hardly acknowledged the sentiment, his eyes only momentarily flickering to yours through the flailing axe and gurgling stood in between you. 

Soon, the villager has gone limp on his feet, neck twisting with a sickening sound before his lifeless body thudded the ground unceremoniously. Your gaze shifted from Leon to the shy glint of a key on the floor. You leapt for it immediately, wasting no more time to free yourself. 

Leon loomed with a scowl. His large build set your blood alight, making you almost cower back. But you brandished your pocket knife from your boot and held it up threateningly, making the man stop dead in his tracks. 

“Don’t you dare, Leon.” You warned, voice low and smooth.  

“Good to see you grew some backbone after all this time.” The chains rattled as he raised his fists to point at your extended arm. “You really think I can’t take you with that?”

You gave him a sharp look, lips pulled into a rogue smile. Waving the key tauntingly by your head, you said, “you’re free to have a go but I won’t promise to hold back.”

He lunged at you like a loose cannon, his frame crowding your vision before you hurried a few steps back. A grin spread across your face when the twisted chains curbed his attack, keeping him a safe distance back and away from you. 

“What are you up to, (Y/N)?” He growled, eyes ablaze. 

“I’m only here looking for someone. Nothing for you to worry about.” You cocked your head, your gaze lining the jagged ceiling as if pondering an unspoken suggestion. “Unless you happen to have seen a certain Spanish chatterbox.” Leon stared quietly; his dirty look ever fixed on your face when you returned your eyes to him. “Long hair. Cheeky smile. Can’t miss him.”

“Should I be worried about him?”

You very well understood his attempt at trying to gouge more information out of you. With the key still in your grasp, he had to play his cards right if he didn’t want to be left here stranded at the mercy of the torches and pitchforks waiting just outside the door.

You smiled. “He’s been a little naughty recently so who knows?”

“What are you really doing here?” He asked again, forcing a step in your space. You remained rooted to your spot, knife still held in front of you but that ceased to deter him anymore. “I see you – alive – after all these years and you’re not even gonna tell me how you made it out?”

You grew suddenly solemn, the spirit slipping from your gaze. The memories came rushing back to take hold of your mind; the endless agony, the burning stench of blood, the crippling terror of loss. You began to tremble as you sank into their unwelcoming familiarity. 

Your lips flickered wordlessly. You wanted to tell him about everything you did and not. You had shared the horrors of Raccoon City together, stood shoulder to shoulder on the same bloody streets and fought as one. But what happened after that – you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. It was all too much. Too damn much. But he deserved this much, at least. You knew that.

“You want to know how I didn’t die? Well, I was supposed to. My heart stopped after… after you shot me. But as it turned out, the virus had already taken root and it revived me soon after I passed out. Then I got the vaccine before I turned.” You pulled up the hem of your sweater to reveal the old gunshot scar on your stomach. “I still have this to remind me of it.” 

Talking about it made everything real again; how your body gripped with pain as the bullet pierced your flesh, Leon’s misty eyes, his fingers trembling around his pistol – they all began racing through your head. 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Leon—” You released a sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “You need to stop sticking your nose in shit that doesn’t concern you.”

“I will report you. Pretty sure they’re still looking for you out there.” You glared at him but his face remained unchanged. He wasn’t being vexatious, the seriousness in his tone cutting enough to ring honest. “And I will make sure you’re back where you belong this time.”   

“I’d be stupid to believe that,” you objected calmly. “Six years ago – you’d rather have killed me than put me in government custody.” A sly smirk curled the corner of your mouth. “That was the most selfish thing you’ve done, wasn’t it?”

Leon swallowed, refusing to speak anymore. His gaze wavered from yours for the first time, falling to his bound, tightly curled fists. You slowly walked back towards him, your knife still out. The steel glinted dangerously in the lone source of light in the room, catching his eyes as it drew closer and closer. But he made no attempt to stop you. 

You touched the tip of the blade to his chin and lifted his face, making his gaze cross yours again. “Or was it what we did before that – right. Yeah. That was the most selfish thing you did for yourself. When I said I wanted you—”

“(Y/N),” he interrupted hoarsely, tone deep and urgent.

“—you couldn’t resist it,” you continued, ignoring the sharp erratic breaths rattling in his chest. “You wanted me just as bad. So, don’t try to convince me it’s any different now. Cos I won’t believe it even for a second.”

You couldn’t remember much of the time you spent in quarantine but you remembered, most especially, all that happened before it. The short few hours that Leon had also been there to witness the effects of the infection slowly consume you. The faded mental images began churning in your head and flood your body with heat.

He remained silent. Wet lips fallen slack, his gaze shifted coyly from your eyes to your mouth. The memories seemed to have made a shameless resurgence in his mind as well if that sweet blush on his cheeks was any telling. 

Leon was thinking about you again – fantasizing. Just like he did on that night when your skin was hot as burning coal against his; when his name had become a litany on your lips under the flickering ceiling lights and the heft of the city falling apart over your heads. Right before he took you deeply believing it was going to be his first and final time. 

Little did he know what the future had in store for him.

“What’s wrong? Cat’s got your tongue, big boy?”

When his eyes met yours in response, they were soft and lidded. His lip rolled back between his teeth, his head dipped to press closer against your knife almost as if leaning into a lover’s caress. 

“Tell me I’m wrong, sweetheart. I dare you.” You challenged him again, knowing very well of his one vice – his one true weakness that was you. 

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” He confessed at last. 

You lowered the hand bearing the knife to hold his face instead, your thumb sitting on his lip. Leon’s eyes grew round as if he didn’t expect this gentleness from you. But quickly, he melted into your touch with a content sigh, his lips pressing a kiss to the pad of your digit.

“I missed you so much.” He muttered. “God—you have no idea.”

A delicate smile ghosted over your face as you threaded your fingers through his soft hair. He closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth of your touch and the pleasant tug on his roots. He gave a grunt when your grip tightened and his eyes shot open again, peering into yours much more heatedly.

The gap between you was so small now; Leon’s breaths fanning over your lips, quivering and uneven in rhythm. His fists were trapped between your bodies, his fingers just brushing shyly over the collar of your sweater. You could tell he was aching to close that remaining distance. His lips, his body, his everything pleaded for you. Years of repressed need begging to be released.

You held the back of his neck and pulled his face in, your lips finding his to unravel a soft moan from him. It was so sweet how he immediately softened within your embrace, his shoulders sinking under the weight of your arms as you twisted them around him. This gorgeous stoic man who abandoned his resolve only for you. It made your heart swell with adoration.

Leon’s gloves squeaked as his fists tightened against your chest, fingers longing to rove your skin freely but they remained twitching aimlessly above the shackles. Though, at last, they hooked onto your collar in covert desperation and tugged you as close as he could to himself, a soft groan vibrating in the back of his throat.

A smile pulled at your lips as you slipped from his mouth to map out the length of his neck, kisses warm and wet against his skin. He moaned shakily, his head lolling back as your teeth took to him greedily, marking the delicate territory. Your palm enveloped the growing firmness over his pants and he gasped, his body already beginning to quiver. 

“Fuck—honey.” He whimpered, breath sharp and trembling. “Please touch me. I need you so bad.”

You hummed your acknowledgement, carefully starting to finger the top of his pants, one by one undoing the straps and buckles in the way. Leon’s breath hitched with anticipation, his head tilting down to watch your hand slowly unveil him. A breathless moan ripped through his parted lips when your fingers slipped inside and cupped around him.

“Shhh,” you urged with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to the ridge of his clenched jaw. 

A low piercing noise quavered on his lips before he hooked them between his teeth in an attempt to quiet himself, his fists tightening even more against your shoulder. 

His desperation amused you. The way he writhed ever so slightly and leaned his head back against the hand gripping his neck. He moaned at every brush of your skin upon his, twitching and throbbing within your grasp. He was already leaking through your fingers; you could hear the muffled slick noises as you stroked him. The delicious sounds on his tongue were an ember kindling into a flame in your core.

“God, I can’t get enough of you.” You growled under his ear. “I missed when you were mine.”

“I’ve always been yours. Every inch of me. So, please… please use me like you’ve always had me.” 

He was getting so close. His moans had risen; shrill and breathless, they fell in succession from his lips as pleasure built to a peak inside him. Your mouth continued to caress and wander his neck, your tongue soothing the raw, blossoming purples across his skin where your teeth had sunken into just moments ago.  

His fingers dug into your shoulder, the chains clinking with urgency and pressing painfully into your skin. A sharp gasp tore through his lips when you sucked his soft earlobe between your teeth. 

“Kiss me.” He ordered, breath labored. You were quick to satisfy the request. 

Your lips were firm upon his once they were back. Much less forgiving. Leon whimpered into your bruising kisses, hardly able to return the same passion as yours as he sped towards his orgasm. All he managed were his moans – rising louder and louder in pitch – that muffled against your mouth, the noises loud enough to reverberate in the room.

He let his head back and mewled freely into the balmy air – that was when he spilled himself in your hand, his warm cum gushing through your fingers as you continued to stroke him. He began to whine and push at your hand until you finally stopped, letting the man catch his breath.

“Look what a mess you made.” You drew your hand out of his pants, twisting your glistening fingers before his eyes. Leon swallowed thickly, his gaze following the deliberate movement before it found the mischievous smile on your lips. “I can’t just go out there like this, can I?”

No more needed to be said for Leon to take your fingers into his mouth, his tongue making quick to lap up his own spill eagerly. He sucked showily, sliding his lips farther up your digits until they were full and drool began dripping down his chin. 

You hummed, delighted. “That’s better.” Then you pulled your fingers free.

Your thumb brushed over the corner of his mouth as you eyed his face. He was your Leon again; the same doe eyed and sweetly mannered boy you’ve come to find a place for in your heart. He pressed deeper into your caress as your palm sat on the side of his face, chasing the touch of your hand like a purring kitten.  

Leon watched you, awaiting the next course of action; his charmingly round eyes searched your face, seeking the demands from your lips. You pushed down on his shackles and urged him to his knees. He sunk to the ground without objection, his head immediately tilting back to hold your gaze.

“Are you gonna let me taste you?” He sounded hopeful, his eyes flickering down to your hand where it sat idly against your hip.

Leon would hold your thighs if he could; bury his face in their familiar softness. He would pull you to his mouth and sip out of that grail between your legs and only leave it once he was fully quenched. But his hands only allowed him to tug at your belt, offering you the mere suggestion of it and hoping you would be generous enough to let him.

You were surely teasing him with your prolonged silence. A ghost of a smile on your lips. The harsh, thorny bubble of existence that was this village lain hidden behind a veil of nonchalance where seconds hurried by while you pondered the seemingly obvious decision to let him have you for a time.

But at last, you allowed it, unbuttoning your pants and pushing the fabric down enough to reveal your dripping sex. Leon wet his lip, eyes bearing a look of urgency as he peered up at you that made you chuckle. So eager to please. You buried your fingers in his hair and pushed him gently forward – enough a clue for the man to press his mouth to your swollen clit.

You reined in the first heated moans though your body hardly managed to contain itself. Your hips jerked and pushed into his face, fingers coiling firmly in his soft locks. He growled into your wet heat, the noise churning deep within you, stoking the fury of desire. 

Leon dearly missed swallowing your warmth down his throat, claiming that lovely pinpoint of pleasure upon his tongue. Each mouthful made the recollection of that darling flavor leap forth in his mind, rendering more and more haste into his movements to coax you over the breaking point and receive it once more. To feel it smear all over his face again in all its sweetness. 

Please, please, please – he began to plead against you. Pride downed long ago. Indifference a distant, faded thought. He yearned for all you were willing to offer. Now that he knew where you’ve been all this time, the pang of neglect struck in his chest. He needed you to fill the gaping mouth of hunger that reared its ugly head and snapped its teeth.

“Cum on my face, honey.” His resolution was nothing more than a speck of an existence now, long given way for a startling openness he never knew he was capable of. But if anything, the shaking legs of vulnerability only further eroded his inhibition. “I need to taste you. I need to remember.”

A shrill gasp slipped past your lips as the lashing heat of pleasure turned sharp and persistent. Your nails grazed Leon’s head, digging in without mercy; your legs trembled as did your shallow breaths, heart pattering like a fluttering hummingbird. 

Arousal ascended into crescendo, filling your mind with a blinding cloud until you came apart with one final cry, drowning out Leon’s fervent moans following you beyond the line. 

The black slowly cleared from your vision, the sight of the dully lit room seizing your vision once more as you came down from your high, bated breaths growing calmer.

You looked down at Leon, his hair still clutched between your fingers. You loosened your grip and he leaned back to meet your gaze with a small, timid quirk of his lips, eyes dazed as if he’d spent the climax through you. 

His face glistened with the aftermath of your orgasm; kiss-swollen lips wet and panting, face flushed red. You skimmed your thumb over his cheek and he closed his eyes again. The chains sounding as he raised both hands to hold onto yours, pressing a chaste kiss to the heel of your palm.     

Your gaze moved over your shoulder at the torn dark fabric hiding the entrance. Its frayed edges had picked up in a slow wind; and soon, a cold waft flitted inside and the smell of damp earth pinched your nose. It was long overdue for you to go.

You pulled away from Leon, raising the key you were still holding onto by the side of your head. His frown – that new quirk that seemed to be a permanent feature of his face – slowly returned to pull at his brows again. He caught the object midair when you tossed it at him.

“Listen, I won’t cause any problems if you don’t. Deal?”

Your cold, biting tone was back. That calculated attitude Leon knew could only belong to you. Threads of panic began weaving around his heart again, remembering how the events of six years ago unfolded on that very cursed night; when he agreed – after your ceaseless begging – to put you out of your misery before you turned.

“So, that’s it – you’re gonna disappear after all that? Again?”

A dejected smile twisted your lips. “It’s nothing personal, Leon. Things have changed. We’re just – we’re not those people anymore.” You sighed, eyes downcast. “My hopes are bigger than just my own life now. And since you’re here, too – I think you know what I’m talking about.”

Leon refused to look at you as he unlocked his shackles. Almost as if he didn’t want to have this conversation with you. But you knew he had to agree. As painful as it was. Perhaps in a perfect world, you would be sitting in a cell waiting to be discarded after your DNA was drained of all it could offer; and Leon would continue to fester in the belief that you were dead.

But this was the world you had chosen and you did all you could to protect it. Leon’s position was a threat to yours. Regardless of the emotions in between. 

You sighed again, striding back towards him. He gave you a brief forlorn glance before you took hold of his face and forced his lips upon yours. With his arms now free, they were quick to wrap around you and pull you tightly against himself. His hands exploring every inch of you that he could, knowing very well that this moment – as soon as it ended – might as well be the last time he could have you this close.

He was so welcomingly warm and you wanted nothing more than to spend enough hours in his arms until you were sick of it. And you lingered as long as that gnawing voice in the back of your mind remained silent and once it piped up again, you knew it was only for the best of you both to let go.

Leon chased after your lips once you pulled away and you pressed a finger to his mouth to hold him back. He closed his eyes, his grip barely loosening from your body.

“I’ll be in touch.” You whispered and he nodded wordlessly; at long last releasing you.

Pocketing your knife back inside your boot, you offered him another smile before you disappeared out in the cold, leaving a vacant iciness in your wake. Leon heaved a short sigh.

“I’ll... catch you later.” 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil fic #resident evil x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy #re4 #resident evil #resident evil 4 remake #re4remake #leon kennedy imagine #leon scott kennedy #resident evil 4 #re4 leon

[viburnt]

request: hcs for lingerie shopping with dabi, plus the post shopping try on! largely sfw, light nsfw please :)

Hope you like these, Anon!!

Lingerie with Dabi

Dabi doesn't like the idea of shopping, it's not something he's ever done to begin with. If he needs something, he just takes it, why bother with all the ruckus of searching for hours just for a dumb shirt or boxers.

You tell him it's not that bad, and that he'll find it more than exciting if he gives it a chance! So after some convincing, you managed to bring him with you. Touya is skeptical about the whole thing, thinking he'd spend hours waiting for you to pick between two different shades of the same color or hearing you yap about the latest trends. He quickly discovers the kind of shopping you want to do.

His eyes are flashed once he steps into the store. Dabi swears he had never seen so much underwear in the same place! Pastel colors, nude ones, black and white... the forms, shapes and styles were vast. You can see his cheeks turn slightly pink until a sly mischievous grin appears on his lips.

He spends a good moment checking out the clothes and whispering things into your ear, making your body shiver with every chosen outfit. Touya is so excited about seeing you wear all of the lingerie he chose.

The kind that draws attention from the employees in there because of how much noise he does when he finds something you'd look good on. He has a particular taste for black, but he also has a thing for more soft/cutesy colors and designs (like a fancy dessert he's about to eat).

He is also a clown and will allow some foolery like "pretending to try som of the clothes". The laughter between the two during that shopping spree wasn't absent.

NSFW ahead

Dabi is impatient to see you try all of those outfits, grabbing and touching your body on the way home. He teases, sliding his hand under your shirt, grinding against you, biting here and there. He could feel himself going wild, imagining the videos and photos the two of you could take with your new wardrobe.

You walk around the room dressed in nothing but the tiny piece of clothing, striking seductive poses as Dabi holds the camera out to focus in your body. He feels his pants grow uncomfortably tighter, shamelessly telling you how much he wants to fuck you with that lingerie on.

He rams inside you on missionary just for the sake of watching in full display how pretty you look wearing something he picked specifically for you. The camera lens slowly makes its way from your face to where your bodies connected.

He can't wait to go lingerie shopping again!

Tags: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @imaginationmess @trickster-kat @shionancientsblog

#my hero academia #*cough* dabi #dabi headcanons #mha dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader

[golden-afternoon]

Whoa okay hi another one hit me like a freight train unexpectedly. What can I say? I needed to make him cry.

Warnings - gn!reader, dacryphilia, chair bondage, trying to not get caught, again this was a possession that overtook me so this is all straight from brainrot to page. This is becoming more frequent. Should I be concerned? ...nah I'm sure its fine

He’s always been beautiful. But right now, you were certain he couldn’t possibly become anymore perfect.

The most striking carnelian eyes staring up at you, coated in a delicate gloss from tears that haven’t quite fallen yet. Lashes long enough to make any woman envious clump and cling together, lined with pretty little dew drops of tears that shine in the low light of his room. Another tear slips from his eye to slowly trail down his cheek, disappearing in a still damp track where dozens of tears had been rolling not long before.

Gritting his teeth, he draws in a hitching, shaky breath, his exposed chest visibly stuttering with the effort to remain silent so as not to alert his roommate to his predicament. Not that he wanted it to stop, though one may have easily assumed as much, what with how tightly he was tied to his desk chair, rendering him almost entirely immobile besides his hips and head, completely at your mercy.

Poor thing, he did his best to remain quiet even with the intense feelings no doubt gripping him after having been teased mercilessly by your gentle hand for the better part of an hour. He counted at least three ruined orgasms, but honestly with how much of a mess his mind was at this point, he couldn’t be entirely sure. Hips thrusting meekly at the air, limited by the bindings he had oh so eagerly suggested you use, he sunk his teeth into his plush bottom lip, tasting the familiar flavor of iron run across his tongue from the force.

You however, merely chuckle innocently at his misery, placing both of your hands on the back of the chair behind him. The most sugary sweet of smiles forms on your lips as you lower yourself to his eye level, giving you an even better view of those pretty eyes.

“Hmm? What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Your soft teasing voice seems to spark a fire behind his eyes, a fire you are all too familiar with. His mouth opens with clear intent to offer a biting word back at you, but anything he may have thought up dies instantly in his throat when he feels your hand curl around his flushed, leaking cock once more. His head drops at once at the sudden rush of feeling against his aching length, he can feel it throb against your palm with joy at the sensation. All he can muster is a cracked little whimper that sounded far more pathetic than he ever cared to be in front of you, much to his growing shame. He had expected to be able to hold out longer than he was, fully going into this with his head held high that he would never crack, yet here he was, biting back needy whines as he rocks his hips with his limited range of motion, desperately craving every bit of friction he can get.

And yet… as much as his helplessness was causing him pain right now, something about the way you looked at him like this made him know full well he was going to ask you for this kind of stress relief again in the future. Probably even sooner than he cared to admit.

Slowly, he lifted his head to face you once more, gazing up at you from under his uncharacteristically messy blonde bangs. His expression was so pitifully needy that it sent a shiver down your spine, the heat of his look going straight to your core in an instant. He blinks and it sends more of those crystalline tears down his face.

Truly, he couldn’t be any more beautiful than he is right now.

#sunny brainrots #a little bit of spice #genshin posting #kaveh #kaveh smut #kaveh x reader #yeah don't know what happened here #wore his earrings this morning and then he possessed me demanding this #shrug sorry i dont make the rules ig

[bokettochild]

Febuwhump Day 25: (alt) "I Love You"

What's this? Day 25 when I haven't even posted previous days? Yes. Warriors was giving me brainrot and this thing sort of just spit itself out last night after a pot of coffee and rotting on my couch for hours.

Heads up, this story is set in the TBBU universe, so yes, we have an original character here: Sablya. My apologies if you hate OCs, she's actually pretty prominent in this story and yes, in a relationship with a Link, so DLDR if that bothers you at all <3

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 4,626

Summary: Hit with a dark curse, the boys must seek out a user of shadow magic in order to help them. Luckily for them, Warriors knows someone. Unluckily for him, it's his ex-wife.

-

There's a particular brand of hurt that comes from words. 

Simple words, words that once meant something precious, can turn into a knife that wrenches at the heart, and even when they’re meant with love, with care, with every amount of innocence, they still have the ability to plunge deep and strike a vein, severing sanity in their wake. 

Warriors knows this, has known this. Since his mother’s first “I’m proud of the man you’ve become” had sounded, the very day when he most dreaded speaking to her to admit what he’d done; what he’d done for her and the girls; he’s known that words full of love can cause pain. 

Words spoken in ire, somehow, cause less. 

Given the choice between the two, the captain doesn’t know what he wants to receive when he enters the house. With his brothers behind him, in need, struggling under the burden of a dark curse that’s wound its way, tight, about them, he knows the need to hurry, to not linger. There’s only person in all Hyrule who can assist them at this moment, but that doesn’t make facing her any easier than all the other times he’s dared to try and do so. 

The very concept of courage, when he stands at the doors of his own house, is a dart of pain to his pride, given how he, the hero, lacks it so just to walk through a door. 

Does he want the screams, the pain and tears, the agonized look in warm amber eyes, or does he want something warm that will pierce and burn at a heart still in pieces from when last he faced her? He’s not sure. He’s not sure which would hurt more. He’s not sure which would be easier to survive. 

“Are we almost there?” The desperation that colors words that should be annoyed, should be spoken with that signature put upon tone that’s nearly permanent from their vet, only further drives how his own hesitation is itself causing harm. The boys are all dragging, all pained, but to add the pain of their newly acquired curse to pain that already made function a struggle- he needs to get the help, and soon. 

“Just a bit further, vet, I promise.” He tries to sound confident, assuring, warm, but he falls short.  

Castletown really does bring out the worst in him, doesn’t it? He can’t even manage to be a comfort to the others while they’re here. 

Eyes follow their weary forms curiously, although some skirt away, wary of the eaten down men and boys, armed to the teeth and clearly desperate, although for what, it’s doubtful the townsfolk know. It's a sharp contrast to their usual warmth towards him in the wake of the war, but then again, his scarf is absent. 

 The blue fabric hangs from Twilight’s shoulders, supporting the weight of their smithy who, for reasons none can name, has been affected the most, and thus is worst off of all of them. In the wake of the wizzrobes attack, what must have been a week ago now, the smithy has been listless, fevered, and in enough agony that walking seems entirely outside of his ability for the moment. 

They need only last a bit longer though. They wander the streets at his tail, the boys leaning on each other heavily. Some had taken worse to the dark spell, others are still coping, and some, like the vet, are pushing their every limit to keep going. Goddesses, he can’t afford to hesitate, not with the like this. 

Still, when the door looms ahead of him, his feet stutter and falter all the same, and though likely, he could excuse it as the curse, he knows the reason his mouth goes dry and stomach lurches has nothing to do with magic at all. 

“Cap?” Sky’s looking back at him, past the blonde head resting on his shoulder, the sailor likewise struggling to keep pace having resulted in the skyloftian offering aid. Concern shines in crystal eyes, and it takes more effort than he’s got in him to try to smile back. 

“I’m fine.”  

He doesn’t even care that they all clearly don’t believe him. None of them have it in them to call him out though, and honestly, he’s a little thankful for that as he forces his feet to move again. 

“We’re here.” 

His hand stalls at the door. 

Hyrule knocks, dark eyes dim as they turn up to him, worry the only thing still shining in them. 

Goddesses, he needs to get over himself. These boys need him, need him to pull himself up by his bootstraps and ask his wife for help. For them. For their sakes. 

The door opens with a familiar creaking, and despite his every attempt to steal himself for it, the sight of her still makes his breath catch in his throat. 

Sablya is not so afflicted, and for a terrible moment, he half thinks the door will fly shut in his face, only... 

Only, Hyrule’s hand has caught onto him for support. Only, Four and Wind are hanging from their older brothers’ shoulders. Only, Legend is swaying on his feet, even with the support of a cane to keep him upright. Cold though she’s turned to him, Sablya’s always had a bleeding heart, and whatever hurts he’s caused won’t stop her from seeing kids in need of help. 

“What do you want?” 

“Help. Please.” It’s a struggle to meet her eyes, to hold her gaze knowing full well what he’ll find. For them though, he manages. “They’re cursed, it’s-” 

“Dark magic,” the words roll, accented and thick, like a cold wave over him. The door creaks again, just like it did the last time he made it inside; has she not had it fixed? “Come. Enter.” 

With what strength he can muster, he scoops the traveler up and into the house, passing her by even as she darts towards the rest, offering a weak smile and steady hands to guide the rest inside. He doesn’t watch, even though he wants to, wants to see her warmth, even if it’s not turned on him. He doesn’t though, he pushes down the narrow hall and into the main room, and there he stops. 

It’s almost like he never left. 

There are no toys scattered on the floor, but the box still remains, tucked in one corner. Pictures, books, all the same, have only moved as much as needed for cleaning. The furniture is still in its place and muscle memory urges him to wind around it to his own chair before the fire. 

He doesn’t. He settles Hyrule down on the couch, soothing curly hair absently, thoughtlessly, before dragging his aching body back towards the door. He passes her on the way, Wild curled in her arms. They don’t exchange even a look, but his heart still stutters at the ease she carries the younger hero, the familiar worried crease between her brows. 

Twilight and Sky are the least effected so far, and they follow behind his wife, bringing the smallest two after. Time though is struggling, and while the weight of him is different from only a year ago, it still feels natural somehow to loop an arm over his shoulders and whisper encouragement to the man as they follow Legend’s limping figure into the house. 

“Armor off,” is the order once they’ve made it in, door shut and the group of them gathered in the family room. It’s cramped, for ten people, but at least with the furniture as it is, but it doesn’t matter. “Tell me what happened.” 

She’s already looking over Wind, dark hands cradling his ashen face like she used to with their son when he’d fallen and give himself a bloody nose or some other such injury. 

“A curse,” Legend explains. “It was a wizzrobe. Don’t know what kind.” His breath is short, even as he’s crumpled down to sit at Hyrule’s feet, head leant against the couch arm. “None of our magic is any good and it’s- it’s affecting us physically as well.” 

Amber eyes fall to stare at the lad, brows kitting together again. “How so?” 

“Shortness of breath-” as though it wasn’t apparent “-pain-” 

“Where?” 

A shudder. “Everywhere.” 

Her skirts rustle as she sinks down to be level with the scholar, hand lifted. “Where is it worst?” 

Pink hair flies. “It’s not like that.” 

“Explain then.” Her tone is soft, but firm. 

Legend explains. He explains with words Warriors has seen in books on magic, but which he doesn’t know for himself. Sablya understands though, despite her hylian apparently still not being strong, and with prompting and feedback from the vet, she seems to get an idea of what it is that’s plaguing them. In the meantime, he leans at the couch’s back, hands mindlessly sinking to stroke curly heads and assure, as best he can, his little brothers. 

“I think I understand,” the words have relief flooding over them, some of the boys even shedding a tear or two at the sound, “may I try something?” 

“Go nuts.” Legend answers through a weary, pained smile. 

It startles them, he supposes, to see the way darkness coalesces at her command, but when her hand rests against the vet’s chest, her voice low with the command to match his breath to her own, he sees tension bleed from the lad’s shoulders, resulting in something like a soft sob. 

“Got it.” She moves to Wind next, although she orders, again, for the rest to remove their armor. “I cannot help you if there is a barrier. Take off the armor, I will help the children.” 

It’s a struggle, in their weakened state, to get it off. Getting it on had been the same, but the risk of going without was too high considering the condition they’ve been in. It takes them all helping, or at least, those who wear it help each other, the vet’s hands joining after he sees to catch a breath. 

Wind sags in relief when dark hands lift from him, and the vet moves to his side, gathering the younger up and waiting until Sablya has finished with Hyrule as well before pullng the traveler close as well. Both lads sink into him, nestling together, no longer in pain but fully drained from it’s effects. 

Four is next, and then, because it is Twilight beside him, she quickly attends the rancher, although it’s only a second before she’s done. For reasons they can’t be certain of, but which the scholar had speculated might be in relation to magic exposure, the ranch hand had been least affected. While there’s still a sag to his shoulders as the hands of the captain’s wife lift from him, it’s not so much as to stop him pulling Four close with a soft hum, supporting the weight of the slumbering hero while their savior moves on to Wild next. 

He tries not to watch, he does. He can’t help it though. He's missed her, even if thoughts of returning here have left him ill at ease and fumbling for ages. He can almost pretend, as he watches her drift between his brothers, that nothing happened. He’s home, she’s there, and save the lacking presence of a small child running about at their feet or tucked onto a hip or against a chest, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. 

When all eight of the other heroes have been tended, she pauses. He sees her eyes drift to him, has to drop his gaze when it does, but she doesn’t step his way with that brisk step, with the determination that was turned on the rest. No, she lingers a moment. 

“There are rooms upstairs. You are welcome to rest there.” 

“Are you sure?” Twilight’s the only one with it left in him to speak, but the wide eyed stares of the rest convey their doubt and wariness. 

Red hair swings free with her nod, drifting from where she’d hurriedly tucked it back while tending them. “You are guests, and you need rest. The children need to sleep, you all do, if you want to recover.” 

“Thank you.” 

“It is nothing.” Her smile is tight. “Please, make yourselves at home.” 

Eyes turn to him, but he nods. He motions them along and, while the weight of magic still hangs from his shoulders, wrapping tight and making everything a pain, he just motions towards the doorway. “Stairs are at the end of the hall. Take any room that isn’t the first one on the right.” 

The rancher’s brows raise, and the stares of the rest turn confused, but neither he nor his wife give answer. No, instead, she scoops Wind into her arms and, with a warning look nobody would dare disobey, not even Mask, she orders the rest of the younger boys to stay put. 

“No straining yourself. I will get you.” 

Such orders are not turned to Twilight and Sky, and the two men follow her out of the room, Four and Hyrule in their arms to be settled down. Usually, he’d demand they eat something before turning in for the night, but between the nausea and the exhaustion, he sees no reason to even try and suggest it. They need their sleep. They can eat when they don’t feel near ready to drop. 

 His wife is back a minute or so later, sweeping past him to gather Legend, only to be redirected to their champion. “I can last,” the teen vet assures, “get him first.” 

She tuts at that, but listens. She doesn’t fight it, likely because she’s learned through experience with him that it’s pointless. It's only a short while later though that she’s back for the vet, and by then Time has mustered the strength to stand and follow. 

 Briefly, on his way out, their leader’s good eye falls on him, silent question hanging heavy, but he just grips the shoulder of the other in assurance. “I’ll be fine, just go rest.” 

“Who is-” 

“Someone we can trust,” and they are words that, from him at least, the others have all learned are never spoken lightly, can themselves be trusted. “Just go, sap. She and I need to talk anyway.” 

There’s lingering curiosity there, but Time obeys. The man is too worn down, too tired from the last week, to likely even last through the long mess that would be answering all his questions. Time heads from the room, and while the house is a sturdy one, steps are heard overhead soon enough, signifying the motions of the boys to the rooms kept ready, at least while this house was still his home, for the presence of sisters, friends, and visiting family. 

It leaves him alone. 

Alone in a familiar room that’s his, but which feels wrong to linger in. The urge to wander, to stare, to take in the husk of the past, battles with the intense guilt of intrusion that he feels, even in his own home. Does he stay, waiting about for her to return? Does he wander freely, go where he will? He’s not been back since his first day returned from the war, and even then, he never made it past the hall. Is he okay to go to the kitchen and brew some tea for what will, no doubt, end up being a very tense night? Is he even allowed upstairs into their bedroom? Is he sleeping down here? With one of the boys? 

He drags a hand through his hair and, for lack of anything better to do with himself, sits on the couch. Here, he’s least likely to cross the boundaries he can’t see, and here is where she’s most likely to look for him once she’s satisfied that young heroes are safely abed and no longer suffering. 

Briefly, he hears steps pass. Briefly, he hears the familiar clatter in the kitchen. For a moment, the steps creak, skirts swishing up them with the brisque pace she always sets when worried or tense.  It’s a moment later when the same sounds return again, getting louder as she returns to the main floor. She’s stalling, he thinks. Tending her guests by providing medicine for pain, blankets for warmth, and no doubt water for drinking and washing both. He’s glad the boys will have it, but every time her feet pass by the door, he finds himself tensing, panicking for a moment that now is the time he has to face her, and now he won’t have them here to act as a distraction for either of them. She just heads back up though, and he’s breathing in relief only to sigh it all out again in frustration with himself. 

He needs to man up. She’s his wife for the love of Hylia! Yet even so, facing her is as daunting as walking up to face Cia, although his reasons are different. Against Cia, he was afraid for himself, afraid of her. Against Sablya, he’s afraid to shatter further what’s already so broken, afraid that somehow, he will cross the line of no return. It's not about failing with her, it’s the fact that he already has, and the question of how much worse he’ll make it. 

“Your breath is bad enough, do not make it worse with a panic.” 

Despite her words, his breath catches in his throat at the sound of her voice.  

Her feet tap on the floor as she walks, but there’s a certain hesitance to each step. There's not the usual confidence in her pace, even if she crosses the room at the same speed as she would any other time, as she did just moments before when tending their guests. He risks a glance when the steps stop, and she’s standing in the middle of the room, facing him. He can’t manage to meet her eyes though. 

“Armor off, I said. How do I fix the curse if you have it on?” She clucks her tongue, hands settling on her hips and, no doubt, golden eyes are staring down at him. He can feel their weight, but he can’t meet them. “Tch, come now, will you make this hard?” 

The urge to remind her that the phrase in Hylian is “being difficult” rises in his mind, but he doesn’t say it. If anything, her attempts at the language are still endearing, even if her tongue is sharp as she says them. 

He shifts, moving to shed the offensive attire. He’d forgotten, in the midst of aiding Time with removing his plate, that the mail he wears like a second skin these days was still on him. It’s heavy, yes, but it’s also familiar and grounding after so long wearing it for every waking moment. It’s almost a part of him these days, and shedding it is strange. 

It’s strange to be without. 

It’s strange having her eyes on him while he does so, even despite the fact that they’re married, that she’s seen him with much, much less. It’s different now though. They’re different. They haven’t been the young, happy couple- the one that stares back from pictures around the room; that smiles, arms around each other- in a very long time. Not since the war started. 

He fumbles. Between the uncertainty and the curse that still lingers over him, his hands struggle with the buckles, the straps, never mind getting at the chain mail beneath it all. His hands tremble worse than normal, and even when he stops to master his breath, to try and calm himself, it only makes it worse. 

Sablya clucks her tongue at him, and he can hear her hair swish over her shoulders with the shaking of her head, even as her feet tap across the distance between them. She’s moving closer, but that doesn’t change the fact that when she reaches out, hands brushing his arm, he still surges back. 

She’s not Cia, she’s not, she’s nothing like. Still, he didn’t expect the contact, the hands, and all over again he must fight to re-steady his breath. 

“You will not do this. You are weak; struggling.” He needs help, he hears, and his heart bleeds for it. Despite all, this woman will still stand there and offer aid, after everything he’s put her through, made her lose, all the hurt he’s brought to her life. “Let me.” She sighs. 

So, he does. He drops his hands and only moves as she tells him, lifting his arm to let her get at the buckles beneath. In the back of his mind, a memory of her strapping those buckles herself, helping him gird himself for departure, for the war, plays in his head. Then, as now, her eyes had held a certain determination, one mixing with a sadness she refused to speak aloud.  

“How you do these things to yourself, I do not know.” She murmurs. It’s not addressed to him specifically as far as he can tell, but he can’t help wincing at it anyway. 

Does he answer? Apologize? Does he laugh it off as he might once have done to try and earn one of those wry smiles she would turn on him when they were young? Gods, he speaks like a man long aged, but the years spent courting, teasing, laughing and cheerful, they seem a lifetime ago. 

Her hands are steady as they work the buckles, pulling belts free and finally lifting his pauldron away. He doesn’t need the help with his vambraces as badly, but she still moves on to them; his arm rested on her knees as she settles beside him, knee brushing his own and skirts folding over to drape over his legs as well as her own. She doesn’t move, he’s not sure if she notices, but he does. He can’t help but notice. 

“Thank you.” He still can’t meet her eyes, and he doubts they will lift from where they work at leather straps. His own linger on her hands, moving deftly through their work. “For helping them.” 

“It is the right thing.” She states simply, pulling free the vambrace and reaching for his other hand. She catches him by the wrist, grip fleeting, gone the moment he is where she wants him. “They do not deserve to suffer.” 

He, who still sits with the curse heavy on him, perhaps does. 

“They are heroes?” 

He nods. She would know. He’s not sure how, but this woman isn’t the sort he could hide anything from, not ever. “Across time, yes.” 

A nod, sharp. Her eyes remain lowered, but long hair falls over them. The urge to push it back, tuck it behind her ear, wells up within, but he stomps it down again. Chances are, she would welcome his touch as freely as he had hers just moments before, and the risk of it, of her potential rejection... he’s too much a coward to face it. 

Silence hangs heavy between them as she removes the vambrace, setting it aside before moving, without stuttering, for his belt. It makes him pause, but he allows it. Lets her work the buckle of the baldric, his great belt, pulling them free and lying them aside. She’s methodic as she moves to aid him with his over tunic, and he lets her pull it free, shifting as he must to accommodate. 

The mail is so much harder. He has to stand for that, and she follows after, both working to lift it free in an awkward tangle that would, at one time, have made them laugh together, at each other, at themselves. He would, maybe, have joked something, he can’t remember what, but he can’t. Words catch in his throat with her standing oh so close, determined stare fixed on him, on getting him free from the heavy shirt, and despite all else changing, the way she makes him breathless has not. At last though, it is free, and he’s standing there, defenseless, unarmed, unguarded, before piercing eyes that linger for a moment, hands that, by habit, smooth the shoulders of his shirt before starting away. 

He wants to say something. Wants a word to come to him, to pierce the silence that hangs heavy between them. Nothing comes to mind though, only the urge to apologize, again, and again after, for everything. For himself, for his failures, for...until she tells him to stop. 

“Sit.” She huffs, pushing back against him with the hand not holding his shed armor. “I will put it away.” 

He obeys, sinking back onto the couch, now without the weight the mail brings to weigh him down. Somehow, he feels heavier without it. 

She doesn’t take long with the armor. Really, it’s a matter of moving across the room to set it down beside everyone else’s; a mess for the morning once they’ve got the energy and strength to tackle it, or, more likely, do it again to depart and return to their work. He can’t imagine them being welcome past what’s necessary for them to recover, and his house or no, it’s hers as well. He doesn’t want her stuck with them just because they need somewhere to rest, not when the castle isn’t far at all, and he has rooms there already. 

Her steps are slow this time as she returns, motions more hesitant as she reclaims the seat at his side. She’s more conscious, he thinks, of how she settles herself, and there is no brushing against each other save as is necessary; only her hand settling over his chest. Her breath is slow, controlled, but it trembles slightly. “Match me.” 

It’s hard. It’s so hard. She’s leaning so close, all dark eyes and long lashes and fine features he could look at for an eternity. The slope of her nose, her cheeks, the way red hair curls so softly at the ends to caress dappled skin, the spots of pale flesh interspersed over the dark, it’s got his full focus, and his breath catches repeatedly for it. 

“Focus.” She hisses, wincing the words, hand lifting for a moment from where it presses, warm, against his chest. 

He tries. 

Her chest swells, shoulders tensing, and he draws breath in. Her hair flutters, drawn lines loosening, and he exhales. In and out, matching to her and feeling the familiar weight of her magic ease around him, slipping beneath the curse’s bonds and lifting free, like a small blade cutting away awry stitching, working slowly, pulling, lifting and prying until the weight of it is gone and he’s left sagging back into the cushions, breath heavy despite no effort being required on his part. 

Her hands slips away, dragging slightly over fabric. 

He should say something. 

“You are fixed. Rest now.” She doesn’t say his name. She won’t, he thinks, and golden eyes dart away as she stands, brushing hands down her skirt and moving for the stairs. 

He should say something. 

“Goodnight.” She says to the darkness in the hall, tone clipped, yet hesitant before she slips away. 

His gaze is trapped on the walls, unable to turn to follow her. He needs to answer. 

Her feet tap away. 

 “I love you.”  

A stumble, a hitching of breath and then- the creak of the steps, the swish of a skirt, hands that fall heavy on the banister and then a shutting door.  

Blonde hair hits the old couch, worn hands dragging through. The weight of the curse was almost better than that of the silence that answers his treacherous words. Words hurt, those that love, but silence pierces ever sharper in answer to them, and devested of his armor, he is but a man before it’s blow. 

#sablya #lu warriors #linked universe #linkeduniverse #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump #don't come for me #writing this was a fever dream #they are in control #i cannot control the warriors #or apparently sablya #link x oc

[teabutmakeitazure]

His Way

>Yan! Childe x Fem! Reader

a/n: My favourite ginger man strikes again. I don't know where and how this came from but hey! It did! And it's here! I hope I did the warnings properly oof

Also, tagging a lovely moot @theinnerunderrain whose babysitter Childe gave me some brainrot to write gingerbread again. Thank you for your services to the community <3

Warnings: unwanted letters, creepy letter (?), breaking in, coercion, slight physical assault

Word count: 1.8k

*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*.✧*

"Are you okay? You seem quite out of it."

Childe's voice snaps you out of your daze, and you look up from your mug of hot chocolate. Blue eyes bore into yours as you're forced to stare into the dull colour. You open your mouth to utter a thoroughly practised reply.

"I'm fine. Why? Does something seem wrong?"

He raises a brow at your monotone voice, clearly not buying your answer. "A lot does actually. However, I won't pry. If you're not comfortable sharing your business with me, I won't push you."

The sincerity in his tone makes you feel bad, but you brush off the feeling. It's not like he can do anything about your homesickness. He soon changes the topic and before you know it, your meeting with your friend is over and you leave for the market for groceries.

You later get back home, closing the door behind you but find the kitchen window open. You live in a third storey apartment so it shouldn't be an issue, but the open windows are becoming more and more frequent. You're starting to think you need better locks to combat the harsh winds of Snezhnaya.

A look at the calendar and you cancel out another day towards your return back home. Not getting accepted anywhere else, you chose to study further in Snezhnaya. Not the best decision but this is home to the most advanced technology of Teyvat so why not?

You quickly get to making dinner, excited at the prospect of being home in a week.

-

There was something in the mail again: a debt letter. You've never taken a loan from the Northland Bank, let alone any bank, so why are letters being sent to you? Whoever it is keeps asking you to pay your dues really needs to check the address they sent it to. It's been keeping you on edge.

When you open the letter, deciding to take it to the bank this time, you find something else entirely.

"Compensation for theft. Meet me, and we can work things out smoothly. No one will be hurt, especially not you. However, if you fail to arrive at the given place at the given time, I won't be responsible for you not going back home."

Compensation for theft? The only thing you've ever stolen are your siblings' clothes. So who sent this? You take a look at the address given at the bottom. It's a five minute walk away from your apartment but there's no way in hell you're to go. It's either a prank or they got the address wrong.

-

"Ma'am, I understand your concern, but we cannot look for the sender. We do not have a history of it being posted."

You take a deep annoyed breath, obviously on the brink of yelling at the poor guy. "It was mailed to my house. As the local post office, you're responsible for mailing letters and such so you of all people should know."

"It could be that someone dropped it off there on their own. We did not post anything of the like. There are no records. I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

With a fleeting glance around the busy office, you turn on your heel and walk away. It's best to go to a Fatui station to file a report. Whoever it is knows about your plans to go back home and considering that the designated meeting time is two hours away, you hurry.

Unexpectedly, you were immediately prompted to a higher ranking official as soon as you got there. You didn't have to wait for the official to come either and for some reason, you felt as though one of the recruits recognised you. The way he flinched when he saw you gave away his nervousness.

It was unsettling to say the least.

The official wasn't wearing a mask but looked like just any other Snezhnayan middle aged man. He said that he'll assign someone to walk you home and increase the security in the area while they investigate, but he also said that it might take a few days.

You didn't like how he was stuttering and kept looking behind you.

-

The recruit left as soon as you got back to your building. You sprinted up the stairs, not wanting to be out in the open, especially since it's dark now.

When you open the door and turn back to lock it, you're immediately greeted with cold air from a nearby window. It's hanging completely open and you rush to close it. After reaching the window, you see someone seated on your couch in your peripheral vision. You freeze, absolutely petrified.

"Hi."

You ran back to the door trying to unlock it but the person present in the room had beat you to it.

"Woah! It's just me."

"Childe…?"

"Mhm?"

You don't remember giving him your address. He casually leans on the wall beside the door, stealthily eyeing you up and down. You didn't take off your coat so you're glad he can't see much but you didn't miss the way his pupils dilated.

"How did you get in?"

He perks up, eyes widening a bit. "The door obviously."

"You don't have a key."

Ever so subtly, you grasp the lock a bit tighter, ready to twist it at the slightest movement from his side.

"You've known me for almost a year. I know you keep a spare with the ground floor family, so I asked them to lend it to me. You weren't home and I wanted to drop something off so…"

Trying to find any trace of a lie, you don't release your grip on the door's lock, ready to rush out. You trust him, you really do, but a man is a man and you would rather not take any risks.

"Okay… so why were you just sitting there? Scared the life out of me, jeez."

He laughs, shaking his head. "I hadn't seen you all day. Thought I'ld at least say hello."

"I saw you yesterday."

"So?"

"Don't you have a job to be doing? Go and do some town hall paperwork, collect public opinion or something. Anything that doesn't involve scaring the daylights out of me."

"Yeah yeah, work can be boring. Which reminds me, how many days to go till you leave for home?"

Heading over to the calendar on the wall, you show him how you've crossed out the days. "In less than a week. I only need to pack, a friend said she'ld take care of selling the furniture for me."

"Ah, I see."

He stays quiet, staring at you. Those dead blue irises decreased in size again as his pupils dilated. It creates a nauseating feeling in your stomach, making you feel sick. He suddenly takes a step closer to you, then another.

"Childe?"

"Have I ever told you that you're one of the most interesting people I've ever met?"

"What?"

"You're made up of all these idiosyncrasies and it's just so adorable at times that I can't stop myself."

He takes another step and slams his hands on the wall either side of your head.

"I sent you a letter but you never showed up."

"What letter?"

"Think harder. You're smart."

"You… you sent that?"

"There we go!"

With a gasp, you try ducking under his arms to get to the door but he just grabs your shoulders and slams you back onto the wall.

"We have a date to get to. I know you're late but we can still make it."

"Wha- what's gotten into you!"

"There's no need to scream. You'll disturb the neighbours."

"Let me go!"

"Yeah… no."

He grabs both of your wrists and holds them above your head. Being at the mercy of someone else is terrifying. When you feel something creeping around them, you try and pry them apart but Childe just holds them together.

"Come on. You'll ruin the fun."

"Let me go!"

"Listen. You stop screaming and writhing and I'll go easy on you."

"W-what're you going to do to me?"

"Nothing, just stay calm, okay?"

He removes one hand and brings it down to your neck. Your eyes are fixed on his face while he's staring at your collarbone, licking his lips. The hand unbuttons your coat, exposing your shirt's neckline. A finger traces a circle right under your collarbone on the visible skin.

"Now that that's there, everyone will know that you belong to the eleventh Fatui Harbinger."

Your eyes widen at his words, but before you can ask, he answers your question himself.

"Ah, I forgot I hadn't told you yet. I'm Tartaglia, number eleven of the Fatui Harbingers, also known as Childe."

"Y-you said you were a civil servant-"

"I am. A harbinger is an utmost loyal servant of the Tsarista. Same thing, no?"

Shaking your head, you couldn't help the tears that fell down your face. His grip is tight and whatever is on your hand is tighter and it's hurting. It feels cool though. Does that mean he has a vision? How come he never told you?

"Hey hey, don't cry. Here." He lets go of your wrists, bringing them to his face and kisses the knuckles. "I won't hurt you."

"Then what do you want from me?" Hiccups start leaving your throat so he pets your hair in an attempt at consolation.

"You. That's all. An eye for an eye, a heart for a heart. You've stolen my heart and so, I'm going to steal yours. Just be mine and you'll know nothing but happiness."

"Let me go."

"I'm afraid I can't."

You try struggling against his grip on your wrists but it doesn't budge. "I said let me go," you seethe out in between tears.

"And I said I'm afraid I can't. I don't want to hurt you, so be a little more understanding."

With harsh movements, you try to pry him off but he slams you against the wall hard. It feels like your brain just moved inside your skull and you let out a cry, prompting Childe to kiss your forehead.

"Like I said, an eye for an eye. You behave and I won't hurt you. I wouldn't want to hurt you anyway. Come on now, let's go."

"No!"

"[Name]."

"Let me go!"

"So you want me to knock you out and kidnap you? Is that why you're being difficult?"

With a scoff, you try and wriggle your wrists out of his grip. "You're a liar. How could you-"

"How could I what? Like you? Want you? You're forgetting that you were the one who initiated this relationship. Don't you think you need to take responsibility for what you've done to me?"

"I did nothing."

He sighs loudly, pressing his forehead against your own. "Get your bag. We're leaving." With that, he lets you go. Out of instinct, you immediately run for the door but before you can even get there, everything goes dark.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #childe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere genshin x reader #genshin x you

[leafiebeanie]

its a hot day today...

so what about rntn sharing an ice cream together

🔥🎴🍦❤️‍🔥

kyo's having a sweet treat to cool off from the weather, and tan bounces up to him, grabbing his arm and hugging it close to his chest

tan tilts his head and bats his eyes at kyo cutely, asking if he could have a bite

its an innocent question, but tan's wandering hands are anything but

his eyelashes flutter, and kyo's heart skips a beat

the next thing he knew, the ice cream has melted, dripping onto his hand

tan takes his momentary hesitation as his answer, pulling the hand holding the ice cream to his mouth, the red tip of his tongue sticking out—kyo's eyes widen—

and tan licks him, lapping up the sticky residue of kyo's vanilla ice cream

the white color on his soft tongue reminds kyo of something else entirely, and it takes all of his determination to keep his grip on his ice cream

the sweltering heat be damned, kyo so desperately wants to see tan writhing beneath him—now

kyo watches with bated breath as tan's plush lips pucker around his fingers, glistening

sensually, tan cleans up all of the melted sweetness on his hand, giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek when he's done

kyo snaps out of his daze when he sees the coy look in the boys eyes

#rentan #kyotan #brainrotting hours strikes again #leafiewrites #kyoutan

[finn-m-corvex]

Trust

Started this yesterday, only got a hundred words in and wrote the rest today in the span of an hour and a half. Me and Whumptober could never.

My first fic in the Dad Jay AU! Featuring best sis duo Tessa and Kaida (from @taddymason) because I'm having brainrot and it's great. Will probably be making more of these but I need to finish Whumptober stuff first (pray for me guys)

Words: 1.8k

TWs: child abuse mentions (kinda graphic but also kinda not), scars n stuff like that

“Again!”

Tessa quickly threw up her arms to block Kaida’s incoming strike, well-placed but still too slow. Kaida tried to catch her around the back of her knee but Tessa anticipated it, buckling just before Kaida made contact so that the hit did nothing. Whipping around, Tessa caught the other girl’s arm and twisted, sweeping Kaida’s leg out and doing her best to make sure that the other girl didn’t crash onto the stone floor as hard as Dad would’ve let Tessa go down. She ignored the scowl sent her way as she pulled back, instead fixing her gloves and giving Kaida a second to recompose herself.

Kaida ran her hands through her hair, frustrated. “This is fucking pointless!”

“Not pointless,” Tessa said, taking her hair down and tying it back up. She was pretty sure that Kaida was about to quit for the day, “that time was better. You just need to be a bit quicker, but your techniques are spot-on.”

Kaida was actually adapting to Ninja techniques pretty well, all things considered. Tessa knew that it would only be strengthened by her previous experience with combat.

“Stop trying to make me feel better,” Kaida snarled, and if Tessa wasn’t already accustomed to the younger’s outbursts she may have felt offended. “I don’t want your pity. I suck, you’re better than me, and that’s that. Nothing more and nothing less.”

“I’m not better, I just had a harsher teacher,” Tessa plopped herself down on the Monastery steps, watching as Kaida threw her own gloves on the ground in frustration.

“Then be harsher or whatever! I need to get better!”

Something crawled under Tessa’s skin at the thought of being more strict with Kaida then she was now. It wasn’t something that she was ever going to let happen. There was no way in hell she was going to start taking cues from Dad, even if Kaida might technically improve quicker. No improvement was worth what Dad had done to her and Noah, and Tessa was old enough now to understand that. “No.”

“So you think I’m weak? That I couldn’t handle it? Is that it?”

“No,” Tessa said, and she waited until Kaida was sitting next to her. There was still a good foot of distance between them, and she wasn’t going to try and close it, “the opposite, actually. You’re too stubborn and you have a good head on your shoulders, Kaida. You wouldn’t grow if I was too harsh with you.”

It took her and Noah starting to spar together for both of them to show improvement, mostly because Dad just treated their spars as life or death fights rather than practice. When she was younger, Jay always said that she was going to be putting her life on the line, that she would have to be ready to face death at any moment, that every battle could end in tragedy.

And yet, the only life or death situation she found herself in at the time was training. So where was the justification?

“I hate this,” Kaida said, hugging her knees and refusing the water bottle that Tessa had passed over. And Tessa knew the feeling.

“I know.”

“I hate that you and Noah keep treating me like I’m made of glass,” Kaida growled, “you do the same thing to Jenna and Ethan. And then you’re going to go and look at Jay like he did something to you when you didn’t even meet him until recently. That’s fucked up.”

There weren’t a lot of things that could get Tessa riled up (it just came with being an older sister) but she could feel herself starting to bristle. Kaida was stepping too close to her toes. “You don’t understand anything about my relationship with Da—Jay.”

“And I don’t want to if you’re going to treat my dad like he’s the fucking devil!”

Logically, she knew that Kaida was lashing out the same way she would’ve done when she was younger, because there was a point in time when she would’ve defended her dad. Cole or one of her other uncles would say something and Tessa would growl in response; but she knew better now. And she knew what she would’ve wanted to hear from anyone listening to her vent, but Tessa was surprised by the burning anger that flared up inside. “Good! Becaise he was never a dad to me!”

Everything went quiet. Tessa looked away, focusing on the small cracks between the stones, noticing the shadows bending as the sun went down over the horizon. She was mulling over what she had said, lost in her head, when Kaida whispered, “you’re not lying.”

Tessa turned her head, and Kaida was staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re not lying,” she repeated, almost as if she couldn’t believe it. “You haven’t been lying this whole time. Why aren’t you lying?”

“Jay was…different,” Tessa started. Patience. Patience was key here. Kaida had grown up with a version of her father that only wanted the best for her, so it was hard to understand that there was a version with only ill intent against his children. “In my timeline, Jay wasn’t the same person he is here. He was distant, and cruel, and I-I don’t think he wanted me and Noah. I’m pretty sure that if he had an option to trade us for Nya, he would’ve done it in a heartbeat.”

Kaida’s face twisted into an expression that Tessa couldn’t quite place. “Jay isn’t like that. He would never do that.”

“Yours wouldn’t,” Tessa agreed, “but mine would, without a second thought. My dad was broken, Kaida, and the only person that could’ve fixed him was gone.”

Broken like the beer bottles that she and Noah would find on the floor after Jay had a bad night. Even as a small child she could see the cracks spider webbing through her father, and he made less and less of an effort to hide them as the twins gew older. Dad turned colder, nastier, more violent with every birthday candle that the two blew out, because it was a reminder of how much time had passed since he was whole.

Time was supposed to heal all wounds, but it only wounded Jay’s heels as he kept stepping over the shattered glass time and time again.

She shrugged her t-shirt off, for once uncaring of who saw the small red scars snaking up and down her arms and across her shoulders. It was just her and Kaida, and she trusted her younger sister more than she probably should considering they had only known each other for a couple weeks. Kaida stared, unsure of what to make of the situation and the fact that the girl she was supposed to be looking up to as an older sister wasn’t lying about Jay. Her dad.

“C-Can I—”

“Yeah,” Tessa said quickly, before she could overthink it, “go ahead. Just be gentle.”

Tessa didn’t even know if it was in Kaida’s nature to be gentle, and yet that was the only way she could describe the way Kaida’s hand touched her arm. The younger girl’s fingers traced along the scars’ paths, and Tessa waited for her to say anything about the ones that clearly weren’t from the lightning.

“Some of these are like Dad’s,” Kaida said, and Tessa hummed in response, “but the others…did someone hurt you?”

“My dad did, Kaida,” Tessa said gently, “I got those during training, and that’s why I don’t want to be more harsh with you. I wouldn’t trust myself not to turn into him.”

“But Dad would never. And you would never—”

“I know, trust me, and I’m so grateful that he doesn’t. The last thing I want is for any of you to grow up like how me and Noah did. But me? I don’t exactly trust me, so I’m not surprised that you don’t either.”

“He did this to Noah too?” Kaida said disbelievingly, but Tessa was telling the truth, and she hated it. She hated it. Biting her lip, Kaida took a deep breath. “W-When I was younger, someone hurt me, and didn’t treat me the way that I should’ve been treated.”

Her head whipped around with the speed of lightning, and Kaida was surprised to see a snarl on Tessa’s face. “Was it Jay? I swear to the First Master—”

“No! No,” Kaida said quickly, “he’s the one who got me away from the people who were hurting me. He’s never laid a hand on me, I promise.”

Tessa relaxed, and she smiled a bit when Kaida scooted closer, finally taking the water bottle and hiding it in her lap. Even if she wasn’t drinking out of it, it was still nice to see the younger girl take something that Tessa had given her; maybe they could make this work. “I’m sorry I’ve been treating you like that, and that it’s been upsetting you—”

“I’m not upset over it!”

“Sure, kiddo. But yeah, I’m sorry. Having three new siblings, and they’re all younger than me, and my dad who isn't an absolute asshole and the mom who I never got to meet…it’s a lot. For me and Noah. And I’m sure it’s a lot for you too.”

“I, uh,” Kaida paused, and Tessa watched as she started to twist her fingers, a nervous habit that she probably picked up from Jay. “Shit, I’m not good at these. I’m sorry too. And Tessa?”

“Yeah?”

Looking away, Kaida bit her lip again. “I-I do trust you. I don’t think that you would hurt me, and I know that Jay wouldn’t hurt you. He’s always been a good dad to me, and I know he wants to be one for you too.”

Grinning, Tessa bumped shoulders with her younger sister, making sure that Kaida saw it coming and that she could pull away if she wanted to. But to her surprise, Kaida didn’t, instead taking it as a challenge and shoving back even harder. “Thank you, Kaida. But let me tell you now: you’ll have to learn how to apologize pretty quick when you have siblings. And you’ll learn that approximately seventy percent of the time you don’t mean a damn thing when you do say sorry.”

“You say that like I’m going to start apologizing for anything,” Kaida said, and Tessa laughed.

“You’re right, you wouldn’t be you if you started apologizing,” Tessa stood up off of the monastery stairs, dusting her pants off and noting the sun setting. “Come on, we should be getting inside. I think I still have some chocolate stashed away somewhere.”

Kaida gasped, scrambling up and after her older sister. “You have a candy stash and didn’t tell me?!”

“How else do you think I keep it hidden from Noah?”

#ninjago #finn's writing #taddy tag #dad jay au #tessa walker #kaida walker #trust #that's her older sister your honor

[funficwriter]

UUUUGH I love Tartaglia and many of his x reader dynamics, but you wanna know a God tier one that deserves more attention?

Tartaglia, the 11th harbinger x Reader, his top underling who wants to keep that privilege.

Like MY BRAINROT-

Childe who notices a cadet fatui outshining their classmates and overhears their interest to serve under a harbinger.

Childe who enjoys just how antsy, how desperate to please you are when you two meet in person. Like the shaky body, the attempt at confidence and the excited yet nervous look? Better than Mora, especially when he remembers that you don't act like this around your friends. Just him and the other harbingers but shhhh let him enjoy the moment

Enjoys your stupefied look when he offers: "You're graduating soon, you're top of your class and I'm short on fresh recruits. How about I take you under my wing?".

Childe wakes you up at an unholy hour of the morning to spar, under the pretense of staying strong. You wanna go back to bed, you gotta earn it!

Even if you do get hurt, he won't stop the fight. You can groan in pain all you want, you'll still look up to see him ready to attack again: "Well? Will you sit there wailing, or get up and prove that you're worthy of being by the side of the 11th?".

The way you strike back when he expects you to be down never fails to excite him. In the flicker of a second in that attack, his eyes are wide and he's grinning with full teeth (predator vibes lol).

Childe who, during his pep talk to his 10 (?) or so legion of recruits, can't help but smirk a bit at the little head nod from you, accompanying his words.

Childe insists on training your cold tolerance by standing outside. Cue you shivering like mad in your boots while he's as solid as a pillar: "So a little cold is all it takes to take down this year's high promiser. Oh, you can handle it? Show me.".

He will also wake you up at early hours for expeditions to kill and I quote "really huge, dangerous beings so greater war trophies".

Prepare; He will talk your head off about combat should you assist him with paperwork in his office. It's his least favorite task so it's only natural that he muses over his favorite. Good luck focusing on both though.

Speaking of his office, Childe insists, after a while, that you knock it off with the formality in such a setting: "Mister this, Lord that, you're making me sound like an old man! Come on, we're cool and it's just the two of us!".

For now imma have to stop here due to work (nooo) but man, Childe as a superior...

#can we talk about this #cause it's just... #UGH #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact brainrot #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #brainrot fanfic

[busy-baker]

So what happens when Astarion’s parents get a divorce on Astarion’s own divorce court show? Chaos, absolute chaos. Special thanks to @kalmiaphlox for every ounce of help in this silly little one shot. It’s basically our brainrot baby. It’s been a blast

Elera and Syllar Ancunín go to divorce court to settle their case before the formidle Judge Ancunín. Drama will ensue but it makes for wonderful television.

Word Count: 1.9k

Your keys hit the counter with a clash before sliding off onto the tile of your kitchen floor. You groaned and stomped over to swipe them up, slamming them back in their right place.

You shrugged off your jacket, throwing it over a barstool and made your way over to your worn in couch.

The apartment you rent was nothing much. It was enough for yourself and you made it into a comfortable living space. The hustle and bustle of the city life was not what you saw for yourself at first but now you wouldn’t trade it for a thing.

What a day, you thought, grabbing the remote and clicking on the television.

You had the next two days off and you were hoping to get lost in a sea of trashy shows and junk food. It had been a very long time since you let go and enjoyed yourself.

Quickly, throwing in a bag of microwaveable popcorn and dumping it into a large bowl, you plopped back into your seat and started flicking through the channels.

A tiefling and githyanki were in some weightlifting competition. Their faces were straining as they hoisted the barbells above their heads but it was quite impressive. Not really your cup of tea though.

The next channel had a wizard with multiple mage hands helping him put together an extravagant meal for a dinner party. The table setting was perfect but all it did was make you hungry for a gourmet meal and your paycheck couldn’t afford more than simple takeout.

You pressed the channel up button once again and you were met with loud, authoritative music blaring from the television. Large letters popped up on the screen in a very obnoxious gold.

DIVORCE COURT WITH JUDGE ANCUNÍN

With a sigh, you tossed the remote to the next cushion. This would have to do. It reminded you of the days when you were younger and there was absolutely nothing else to watch.

You sat back, kicking your feet up on your coffee table and began munching on your snack. The narrator started talking and you lost yourself in the show.

“They say love conquers all, but for the case of Syllar and Elera Ancunín, love couldn’t conquer everything. Elera claims the former Lord was leading a hidden life, smelling of soot, hiding away until late hours of the night, and even bargaining away the life of their unborn grandchild.”

“Syllar, on the other hand, insists it was all for the greater good of their lives. Can they overcome their differences and settle this or will it be a battle of devastating blows? That will be for Judge Ancunín to decide.”

Two elves stroll into the courtroom glaring at each other and taking their places at their respective table. The one is striking with her long waves of silver hair and pale skin. She is accompanied by a dark skinned devil. He has two very different eyes but seems friendly enough towards her.

The other elf is quite handsome with the darkest black hair and piercing eyes. He stood tall next to his lawyer, who immediately gave you the “ick.” The man had the the slimiest grin plastered on his face and there was just something off about him but you weren’t quite sure what.

The camera panned to a towering figure with blonde hair shaved on one side and golden cracks illuminating her white skin. She wasn’t someone you wanted to be on the wrong side of a knife fight with.

“Court is now in session. All rise for the honorable Judge Ancunín,” the woman’s voice boomed through the room.

“Is this even allowed? He’s our son!” The elf, you presumed Syllar, whisper yelled to his lawyer, camera drawing near to his face. They seemed unaware.

“He’s the only one available this side of Balder’s Gate. It’s all show biz, little lord,” the lawyer laughed him off with a wave and then turned in shock to see the camera in his face, straightening his suit jacket with a clearing of his throat.

The side door opened and in walked the judge donning his black robes. He had perfectly coiffed silver curls and the most beautiful face you had ever seen. It was as if the Gods had taken their time carving it.

His jawline was sharp and lips were plush. You were practically drooling, but his eyes were hypnotizing in the bloodiest red. They drew you in and they were complimented by a perfect set of glasses that framed his face so well.

Fucking hells, he’s hot. I need to watch this more often, you thought, shoving a handful of popcorn in, coughing on a piece.

The bailiff walked over and handed Judge Ancunín a folder as he sat and returned to her spot. The judge flitted through the pages and then peered over his glasses at the two elves before him. His eyes softened ever so slightly at the female elf before looking back down at the papers and slamming the folder shut and sighing.

“So, Lady Ancunín, you state you are tired of the constant lies and betrayal and want to end this relationship and seek ownership of the home,” he stated, and looked to his father, with considerable more disdain, “Lord Ancunín, you say you sought better for you family by seeking a deal with a devil.” He paused, glancing at the man beside Syllar.

“I knew it!” You yelled at the screen. Something was definitely off about that guy.

“You pawned off your first born grandchild, my child, and seek to remain in the house as one unit.” Ancunín finished.

The camera panned to where an elven woman sat in the public benches holding a smiling baby on her lap with a head full of silver curls. Her chubby fist had a handful of her mother’s hair and tugged at it while the other held onto a small stuffed toy. She was definitely the child the judge spoke of. You were disgusted anyone would wanted to bargain her away.

“Elera, Wyll,” the shot focuses back on the handsome judge, “tell me in your own words what you seek from this. What’s finally broke the camel’s back, hm?”

Wyll, Elera’s lawyer, stepped forward, “Your honor, Lady Ancunín has dealt with terrible hardship at the hands of Syllar. He’s caused her nothing but distraught and it seems the former lord seeks to overpower the Sword Coast.”

“Objection, your honor! That’s mere speculation on the faux devil’s part,” the other devil spoke up, sneering at Wyll.

Ancunín rolled his eyes but conceded. “Sustained. Raphael, you and my father may plead your case,” he said, “Not that I care for it.”

Raphael, devil and Lord Ancunín’s lawyer, sauntered forward towards the front of the room. He leaned one elbow on the judge’s stand and smirked up at the annoyed judge.

“Gods, this guy,” you groaned, “Who let him in here?”

Ancunín’s eyes darted down to his watch and back up to Raphael. He tapped on it to signal the time.

“Half hour show. Get on with it,” the judge warned.

Raphael let out a dissatisfied noise but his face morphed into one with charm. He had definitely done this before. Plenty of times. He continued leaning as he launched into his spiel.

“Your honorable and dear Judge Astarion Ancunín,” he began, laying it on thick, “I present to you a man, broken, worn, hardened by his years and years of fighting to strive for perfection for his wonderful wife and,” he looked to Astarion, “darling boy.”

“Had he signed a contract with an, albeit fair, devil? Yes, but to take away his livelihood would be such a harsh and cruel punishment. Especially when that man is your own father, little vampling.”

Ah, that explains the eyes. His wife is so lucky.

A quick gleam flashed in the devil’s fingers and landed on the judge’s stand. The judge’s lips pursed and he raised an eyebrow, eyeing the sneakily placed gold piece. His hand twitched for just a second.

“Astarion! Honestly, right now?” Elera whispered up to him, appalled.

“What? I’m a man of means, mother,” Ancunín returned, although leaving the gold piece where it was.

“Your father tried to sell your child!” Elera reminded him.

Syllar clearly did not take that well. His face was losing that well maintained composure and turning a bright shade of red. His body spun in his wife’s direction and his finger pointed towards her.

“Uh oh, the bastard’s going to blow a gasket,” you muttered, leaning forward in your seat. This was about to get good.

“If you hadn’t coddled the boy, this wouldn’t have ended up like this!” The lord started stepping forward. “I knew what was best! You both need to listen to me!”

Wyll shielded Elera from her angry husband while Raphael shifted to his true cambion form in the courtroom. Syllar continued on in his tirade with the intimidating bailiff having to step in, holding him back.

Raphael almost made it to her but Wyll let loose an Eldritch blast, knocking the elf and cambion to their sorry asses.

Judge Ancunín was standing on his feet, banging his gavel to no end, angrily glaring at the display in his courtroom.

You sat staring at your television screen, waiting for some kind of off air sound to come on. You couldn’t believe your eyes. You reached into your bowl for another bite but found it empty. A snack would have to wait. There was no way you were missing any of this show to make more.

Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting slowly back down in his chair. He shook his head and adjusted his glasses while scribbling something onto the documents in front of him.

“If my mind wasn’t already made up before, father,” he spat towards Syllar, “It is now. Lady Ancunín, you will be awarded all assets, including the Ancunín estate. You will be granted separation from Lord Ancunín and if you seek an order of protection from him, such will also be granted. Your title will also remain.”

“But-” Syllar began but was cut off by Astarion’s hand being held up.

“Tav, would you please bring the darling Juniper forth?” Judge Ancunín asked.

Tav, the elven woman from the benches, carried the bouncing baby forward to the judge’s stand and lifted her over to her father. The silver hair babe reached for him and he gently smiled as he sat her on his lap.

“Would you do me the honors, little one?” He questioned, placing the gavel in her tiny hand and guiding it to bang down several times as she squealed.

He kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear before handing her back to her mother. He repeated the process with the gavel in a more formal manner and stood, taking the folder underneath his arm and walking out the exit.

“Court is adjourned,” the bailiff said, following out the door behind him.

The narrator’s voice started up again as the defendant and plaintiff left the courtroom following their case. Elera looked as if a weight was lifted off her shoulders, beaming through the long corridor. Syllar wouldn’t even glance at the camera with his sneer and disheveled hair.

The credits rolled and you flung back in your seat, dizzied from the wild ride of the show.

You picked up your remote, opening up a streaming app.

There’s gotta be more of that on here, you thought.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #thicker than water #dadstarion #magistrate astarion #one shot #bg3 au

[saturnskyline]

"vegasporsche brainrot hours" YES PLEASE

porsche was blind to vegas betraying him (well, it wasn't about vegas betraying porsche but vegas going against his family that porsche didn't expect), but porsche also saw something in vegas that kinn and others didn't. he knew what vegas had done to him and main family, but when pete came back, and porsche did the math of what happened to pete, he didn't freak out or said: "vegas is doing to you what he did to tawan, ken and me". when vegas made the deal in ep13, porsche didn't question why would vegas want to see pete, and he trusted that vegas would do his part of the deal (which he did). when vegas warned him about the coup and said he will take care of pete, porsche knew it was not a lie and sort of gave his blessing. and vegas called him the second time about the coup, even though he didn't have to. ANYWAY, I AM RAMBLING, but what i wanted to say is that porsche saw something in vegas, and i can totally imagine another universe in which porsche would chip away some of vegas's armor, like, look, there is real flesh and blood underneath, you're a human, vegas, how does it feel to have someone see through your tough mafia guy bullshit? (also, unrelated to my ramblings, au where vegas and porsche have hot sex in that alley of hum bar, it's a bit rough, and porsche can feel all the places where he will have bruises and hickeys, so when vegas leaves, porsche texts his bestie pete with 'i think i just fucked your future husband, his name is vegas and here is his number')

*jason mendoza voice* oh nonnie. we're really in it now 🥺🥺

there really is so much to unpack with these two. i definitely agree with you; i think porsche sees vegas in a way that's pretty uncomfortable for both of them. the brainrot for their little meeting in ep 13 is especially strong, since there are so many possible interpretations. is porsche using pete as a bargaining chip, signaling how he's adjusting to mafia life? does he leave the ball in vegas' court, truly believing that vegas won't harm pete? i'm dizzy just thinking about it 🥲

one thing that does strike me as interesting is the "i don't trust you" bit. i believe porsche's statement on a surface level – i don't think what they have could be properly described as trust – but there is a unique kind of camaraderie that they share nonetheless. their dynamic in the last few episodes REALLY gets me... porsche needing to ask vegas for help (working around kinn 🤨), vegas calling porsche about the coup (bc yes! he really did not have to!), vegas threatening porsche to get to kinn!!! (probably wasn't personal, just. the cousin rivalry lol) like. there's LAYERS here and they make me crazyyy

and then there's another question: what next? post-canon, there are even more possibilities. i can't imagine that vegas wouldn't feel any resentment at his birthright being snatched up by his cousin's boyfriend of all people, but i like to imagine they develop a tentative bond again eventually. (personal headcanon: as much as porsche being the minor family head has rocked vegas' world, he can't help but be strangely relieved. it's the life he was trained for, but he doesn't feel the loss as keenly as he expected.) could them getting along just be wishful thinking on my part?? yes, very likely. but hey, i loved that motorcycle scene, what can i say 😭

oh. oh! and the idea of porsche telling vegas that he sees him, the "i know about all the walls you put up, and you're not as heartless as you pretend to be". yeah THAT'S the good stuff right there. i love it when vegas gets Perceived, and aside from pete, the only person that i think could truly pull that off would be porsche. sure, he hasn't seen everything, and the manipulation was no joke. but in order to sell all the lies, vegas has to add truth to an excruciating degree, probably more than he realizes. again, wishful thinking? possibly. but there are so many moments along the way where his concern and affection for porsche seem genuine. and hey, maybe all that means is that the manipulation is working on me. In that case, i will gladly be brainwashed :)

anyway i'm not sure that any of this makes sense, but thanks for fueling my unhinged ted talk! (OUR unhinged ted talk? 👀) and i love the au concept hehe, any scenario that even remotely involves vegas/pete/porsche has me bouncing off the walls 🙏🙏

#good soup good soup #shaking hands with anon bc they just Get Me #on that note. i should probably go to bed lol #vegas theerapanyakul #porsche kittisawasd #kinnporsche #seems kinda generous but eh whatever i'll go ahead and tag #kp meta #anonymous #asks