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remlionheart · 3 months

Note

Can you do a Chuuya x fem reader where her bra can be shown from her white shirt?

pov: you request a simple spicy lil fic from me, but my manic brain is physically incapable of not giving it an entire backstory and plot and making it at least 4k+ words (thank you so much for this idea tho, it was super fun to write! ღ)

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦˚ *

Sex, Money, Feelings, Die

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ My first attempt at Chuuya smut (and goddamn, do I love that angry lil man ★~(◡‿◡✿). New to the city, you're coerced into working for the PM after a drunken night out. Scared and now in the heart of one of Japan's most notorious criminal organization's headquarters, you decide to reclaim some of your power by ~*teasing the absolute fuck out of Chuuya Nakahara~*. 4.8k words. Porn with a plot. I can't even lie, this shit had me giggling and kicking my feet while writing, lemme know whatcha think. luv u ღ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

When you'd first moved to Yokohama 2 months ago, you had promised your parents that you'd be safe. That you'd find yourself a decent office job to afford you a lofty apartment and that you'd be settled in relatively quickly. You'd pictured yourself walking amongst tall buildings on your days off. Exploring the city with your coworkers on the weekends. Living instead of just existing in your small hometown.

You thought you had your future all mapped out and maybe you did, but those dreams of normalcy were all but destroyed the night you crossed paths with Koyo Ozaki.

She had noticed you from across the bar, quietly observing the way you'd been drinking by yourself all night. It was odd to see a girl with your beauty and lack of abilities so confidently roaming downtown alone. She wasn't sure if you were brave or naive, but the moment you took a seat next to her to thank her for the whiskey and coke she had ordered you, she realized you were the perfect blend of both.

She'd spent the next hour chatting you up, effortlessly coaxing information out of you without you realizing it. She'd offered you an administrative assistant role for the group she worked for, describing it as a "lucrative" and "underground" organization. You were in no position to say no, especially after spending the last month relentlessly applying to jobs with little to no luck.

You woke up the next day musing about silly things like fate and serendipity as you raided your closet for the perfect first day outfit. You felt like this was your big break. The first stop on the roadmap of adulthood that you'd created for yourself. You ironed a pair all black slacks, pairing it with a white-button up quarter-sleeve shirt, and your favorite suede Mary-Janes. Optimism swirled through your head as you eyed yourself in your bedroom mirror that night. You were determined to be so good at this job.

You showed up freshly showered and prepared when you arrived at the sleek, high-rise building. Ozaki waited for you out front with a rather intimidating dark-haired man who introduced himself as Mori, head of the fucking Port Mafia.

Your anxiety rose with each step you took behind them, quickly realizing that this was not the run-of-the-mill clerical job you had envisioned while hazily chatting with Ozaki over whiskey-neats. This was an underground criminal organization full of some of the strongest ability users in the world. You had absolutely no idea why you were here. Why you'd been selected, let alone trusted, to work alongside these people.

You were given your own small office, equipped with a bare desk and landline phone. Mori told you to stay put, explaining that you were to stay out of sight until further notice. You were essentially there as a cover-up.

Apparently, they'd been scouting for girls like you. New to town and completely clueless. They wanted to bring in a handful of these 'administrative assistants' to help keep up the illusion that this was just another ordinary building in the business district of Yokohama and nothing more.

Mori left you with a curt warning about the temperament of the other Mafia members and a haunting, "Welcome to the team." as he closed the door to your office and disappeared down the long corridor. Your heart was slamming into your chest, your anxiety growing the longer you sat. You were angry. Disappointed in yourself for being such an easy target.

You sat for at least an hour staring at the wall in existential dread, wondering what you'd done to end up here. Wondering what you were going to have to do to get out now that you were here. Even if it wasn't necessarily a "job", it still didn't seem like something you could just casually walk away from.

You were in the middle of the Port Mafia's headquarters and you were rightfully, terrified.

The sound of two muffled voices pulled you away from your thoughts while you froze in your chair, realizing that they were right outside your door.

"You're fuckin' with me, right?"

"No, that's really where they're keeping her. She's going to be a fulltime member."

"A member?" it was the first man again, his voice full of shameless snark and volume as he laughed at the idea. "A Mafia member with no ability? C'mon, Akutagawa. Even Mori isn't that stupid."

"There's going to be more, she's just the first to show up."

Tension crept along your spine when both voices came to a curious stop, one quietly scolding the other before the heavy wooden door began to creak open.

A pair of azure eyes stared back at you, disheveled shoulder-length red hair draping off of one shoulder as he mumbled, "Holy shit."

The taller of the two, draped in a long black coat, tried to pry him away, but he shrugged him off with an irritated. "Chill out, I just wanna introduce myself to her."

The dark-haired man scoffed and continued down the hallway while his ginger companion closed the door behind him, leaving just the two of you looking back at each other skeptically.

Despite his height, he had a powerful demeanor. A blend of apathy and cockiness that exuded off of him as he carefully made his way towards you. "So, you're the new girl, huh?"

Your eyebrows furrowed when you looked back at him, your words suddenly stuck in your throat as his foot made contact with your desk.

You managed a nod, remembering the way Mori had advised you not to engage with the other Mafia members, but what were you supposed to do when you were suddenly locked in a room with one?

"God, we really can't just have one normal day around here, can we?" He sighed, almost seeming embarrassed as his shoulders dropped and he leaned against your desk in the spot next to you. "Stealin' girls out of bars? Tch, the hell are they thinkin'?"

His opposition to his boss' plan made you relax a bit. It was the first time all day that you thought you might make it out of here okay.

He picked up on your apprehension rather quickly, taking his hat off and setting it down before extending a gloved hand out to you. "Chuuya." He said simply.

You stared at him for another moment or two before introducing yourself, trying but failing to mimic his nonchalant tone.

"Hey," He said, lightly nudging your foot with his, "You're gonna be alright. I'm sure this gig will only last for a couple of weeks until they move on to their next big, idiotic idea."

"You think so?" It was the first time all day that you felt like you could breathe.

"Trust me, Mori's plans are always changing. He'll probably cut you a fat check for hush money and then send you on your way sooner than later. Just lay low in the meantime, yeah?"

Your eyes were still locked as you nodded at him again, giving him a feeble, "Okay... Yeah, I can do that."

"Good." He smirked, pulling himself away from your desk.

You watched him pause just before exiting the room. He turned around to face you again, his gaze landing a bit lower than your eyes this time.

"And maybe uh -" If you didn't know any better, you'd swear that you saw a flash of red flare across his cheeks. "Maybe don't wear that bra with a white shirt next time."

Out of all of the anxiety and fear that you'd been drowning in over the last few hours, your choice of outfit had been the very last thing you'd considered worrying about until just now.

You looked down, noticing what he meant as you saw the dark, lacy fabric of your Victoria's not-so-secret peeking through the white of your blouse. Your tits were pushed perfectly together, nearly on full display through the sheerness of your shirt.

He flashed you another faint smirk before clicking the door shut, once again leaving you to your own crippling thoughts as your head dropped into your hands.

What an absolutely mortifying first day.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few shifts were a blur.

You'd clock in. Sit for what felt like an eternity in your bleak little office. Leave mid-day to grab lunch at a cafe across the street. And then head home 9 hours later despite the fact that you’d hardly done anything.

You'd learned to bring in books and cross-stich patterns to keep yourself busy throughout the day instead of rotting away at your desk. It wasn't an ideal situation, but if Chuuya was right and there really was a big check waiting for you around the corner, you'd decided that it was worth it to see this through. Because no matter how nervous you got each morning, the painful truth was that you couldn’t afford to turn down easy money.

By the end of the week, you found yourself doing more than just sneaking in romance mangas to make the job more bearable though. You were doing everything you could to gain back even a semblance of power.

If you had to be here, you had decided that you were going to make it everyone's problem.

With the ginger's words still fresh in your mind, you made it a point to wear darker bras. Tighter blouses. Shorter skirts that barely covered your ass. It had almost become an inside joke with yourself at what a distraction you'd become to the Port Mafia. Maybe couldn’t make these men fear you, but you could certainly make them trip all over themselves any time you entered the building.

You'd hardly been able to keep a straight face yesterday afternoon when Akutagawa's coffee fell from his hands and cascaded around him after he saw you walking down the hall in black knee-high stockings. You'd finally managed to make everyone here as uncomfortable as they'd made you and it felt good.

You were half-way through the iced matcha you'd picked up on lunch, sitting with your feet propped up on your desk as you continued to embroider the word "fuck" in pretty, cursive letters next to a pink and yellow flower when a knock arrived at your door.

You quickly stashed the circular cross-stitch pad in one of the desk drawers and straightened your back as Tachihara poked his head into your office. "Yo, new girl. Nakahara wants to see you."

Your brows knitted together as you looked back at him in quiet confusion.

No one had ever requested to see you in the time that you'd been here. Even in your attempts to disrupt their daily tasks, they'd still not bothered to learn your name. But now... you were expected to go see Chuuya... in his office?

"Why?" It was the only question you could think to ask.

"Dunno," Tachihara shrugged. "but I wouldn't keep him waiting. He's kind of an asshole." And with that, you were once again left alone and anxious.

You took a breath, standing up to smooth down the fabric of your skirt before venturing down the hallway.

You did your best to push Tachihara's warning out of your head, reminding yourself of the kindness Chuuya had shown you on your first day while your heels clicked across the marbled floor.

Maybe he wanted to tell you that he'd talked to Mori and that your time with Port Mafia was finally up. Maybe he wanted to hand deliver the check you'd so desperately been waiting for. Maybe he just wanted to see how you were doing. Whatever it was, you were holding onto hope that there wouldn't be any more bad news.

You let out a sharp exhale as you rounded the corner and found yourself standing in front of his office. You gave the door a light tap, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve when he finally appeared.

His eyes traced over you slowly, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as he counted not one, not two, but three undone buttons along your blouse that revealed the deep-purple push-up bra decorating your chest.

"Get in here."

His tone was clipped, dripping with what felt like vexation as he closed the door behind you.

His office was much bigger than yours, adorned with high-rise windows that overlooked the city and pristine black marble flooring that matched his leather furniture. The room was dark, just barely lit by a lamp on his desk. You wondered how it was possible for him to get any paperwork done in here but then promptly realized that with his ranking, paperwork was probably far beneath his paygrade.

Still not entirely sure how to approach the situation, you hesitantly took a seat on the over-sized armchair across from his desk.

"Quick question," he said, standing in front of you with his arms folded over his chest, his voice still riddled with irritation. "What does the phrase 'lay low' mean to you? Because I can tell you right now, this ain't fuckin' it."

Your pupils widened, his words hanging heavily in the space between you.

Your mouth opened and then closed again, too focused on the way he was staring at you to form a proper response.

"Is it -" you wavered, mustering up all the courage you had to try and play this off as innocent confusion rather than what it actually was: sarcasm. "Is it my outfit?"

If looks could kill, you would've been 6 feet under.

Chuuya's eyes darkened, a flustered hand rubbing feverishly over his face as he struggled to keep his composure. He wasn't sure if you were trying to piss him off or if you were just genuinely the dumbest girl he'd ever come in contact with.

"Yes," He said with all the restraint he could possibly manage, his teeth nearly grinding together with each syllable. “The outfits are getting out of hand. You've gotta stop."

You were playing a dangerous game, but you were slowly starting to realize that you were... winning.

"What's wrong with them?" you asked, pretending to cover your chest in embarrassment.

You wanted to hear him explain it. Hear him tell you in his own words that you couldn't wear short skirts anymore because it was causing too many unexpected erections around headquarters.

"I -" The poor redhead looked as though he was going to have an aneurysm if you kept this up much longer.

He snapped his eyes shut and let out a frustrated exhale, his hand now bawled into a fist at his side. "Listen, a lot of the guys around here have... noticed you, okay? And I can't take one more day of hearin' those fuckin' assholes talk about how they caught a glimpse of your ass in the break room. Got it? I'll buy you some new clothes if I have to. Just please, no more shirts like this, alright?"

He was actually bargaining with you. Entering the third stage of grief as he tried so hard to keep his cool. To keep his eyes locked with yours and nowhere else. To explain all of this in the nicest way he could.

It was in that moment that you realized where the real source of his trepidation was coming from.

Hearing his coworkers ogle over you was probably annoying for sure, but the more damning, infuriating fact of the matter was that he was ogling over you too. And he was fucking tired of not being able to get any work done when he knew that you were right down the hall. He was pissed that he had to come into his office every morning and lock the door just so he could jerk himself off to the idea of you.

He was in so many words begging you to stop because he wasn't sure how much longer he could take seeing so much of your body without being able bend you over his desk like he did in his mid-morning daydreams.

He was losing - both his resolve and this game at an alarming rate.

"Hmm," you hummed, toying with a pen you'd found wedged between the cushion of his chair. "Well, I'm sorry. I just like feeling pretty before I come in. I didn't know it was creating such a problem for everyone."

The wheels in Chuuya's head were spinning.

Emotions weren't his strong suit and doing these mental gymnastics with you was making him need a cigarette.

"It's -" he sighed, groaning as he forced himself to backpedal. "It's not your fault. I mean, you do look pretty, y'know. It's just... distracting, is all."

It was hard to hide your smirk.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't think he was a bit distracting himself, but he didn't need to know that. Not yet anyway.

"Okay, well," you conceded as you began to stand up. "I’ll wear a turtleneck or something tomorrow then.” You shot him a small smile as you got to your feet, "Promise."

He looked marginally relieved by your understanding. "Sounds good." He huffed, rubbing at the back of his neck while following behind you as you made your way out of his office.

But just before you reached the door, you accidentally dropped the pen you'd been fidgeting with. Bending over without warning so that your ass was right in front of him, peaking out of your skirt as he walked straight into you, his hips suddenly meeting yours.

You thought he might actually kill you this time with the guttural noise of frustration that escaped him.

He grabbed you by your shoulders the second you were upright again, spinning you around so that you were forced to face him.

“Okay, seriously." He said between gritted teeth. "Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath hitching in your throat as you watched the unfettered anger flicker through his blue eyes.

It was a stupid move, you knew that before you did it, but you didn't expect it to draw this much of reaction out of him. His restraint was lost. Composure long gone while he waited for you to say something with his face mere inches away from yours.

"Sorry," You lied, "It slipped out of my hand so I -"

"Bullshit." He snarled. "Enough with this innocent act. What do you want out of this, huh? For every guy in Port Mafia to want to fuck you? Is that what you're gettin' at here?"

"No." Your head shook before you even had time to think about what you were about to say. "Not everyone..." Your eyes were still glued to his. "Just you."

You didn't know what you were doing anymore or where all of this recent shamelessness had come from, but there was something about being here that made you feel like you could do anything. Be anyone. You weren't sure if it was the power or the crime or the ungodly amount of money that Port Mafia was raking in, but the collective feeling of chaos that these walls housed was finally latching onto you too.

You didn't even flinch when you said it, instead continued to stare at him unapologetically, noting the way his grip had tightened around your shoulder the longer he looked back at you.

"What?"

If the wheels in his head had been spinning before, they were now fully off the ground, exploding into the air as his gaze drifted along your face. Searching intently to make sure you were actually being serious this time before he went any further.

"You really want me to fuck you that bad?" he asked, the warmth of his mouth now ghosting yours.

The question went straight to your center, wetness seeping between your legs as you nodded back at him.

Truth be told, your midmorning fantasies while cross-stitching the last few days hadn't been much different than his.

The gravity manipulator's fingers were suddenly tangled into your hair, his body forcing your back against the door while his lips collided with yours.

"Y'know you could've just asked instead of doin' all this bratty shit, right?"

His mouth was warm, his movements somehow urgent and careful at the same time as his hands wandered along your curves.

You smiled against his lips, letting out a breathy, "I'm sorry." as his palm began to graze the inside of your thigh.

"No, you're not." He smirked, sucking your bottom lip in between his teeth before biting down with just the right amount of pressure. "But you will be."

You let out a small whimper as he placed his free hand under your chin, moving your head to the side so that he could continue his descendent down your neck.

His leg wedged itself between yours, brushing against your clit while his mouth worked along your collarbone.

You were too lost in the feeling of it all to realize that he'd been leaving a trail of meticulously placed bites down the nape of your neck. Bruises in the shape of his mouth that he knew everyone would see.

"Chuuya -" you tried to protest, but it was more of a moan than an objection. "You - fuck, you can't -" You grinded helplessly against the firmness of his leg. Hips rocking back and forth, desperately trying to gain friction while he kept on nipping away at you.

"What's wrong, babe?" he purred against your sensitive skin. "You're wearin' a turtleneck tomorrow anyway, remember?" his breath fanned across your chest as he ripped the remaining buttons off of your shirt. A gloved hand palming at your chest, sliding your bra down so that your tits were fully exposed for him before you felt his tongue glide across your nipple.

Tachihara was right, he was kind of an asshole. But for some terrible reason, you were living for it. Almost embarrassed by how bad you wanted him. Wriggling against him and riding his leg. Whining while you let him leave visible marks on you and destroy the only clothing you had.

"C'mere." He pulled his head away from your chest, swiftly grabbing you by the arm and leading you back to his desk. He picked you up with ease, shoving a binder aside to sit you down in front of him.

"Spread your legs for me." His voice was heady, eyes glossed over with lust as you complied with his demands.

He held his hand up to his mouth, removing his black glove with his teeth before pushing your skirt up and sliding your underwear to the side. He bent over slightly, running two rough fingers along your clit as he watched your nails dig into the edge of his desk.

"Fuck," he groaned, still not taking his eyes off of you. He'd barely done anything and you were already soaked, your pussy practically throbbing for him. “You really do want me that bad, huh?"

“T - told you.” You whimpered, your head tilting back as he drew slow, blissful circles around you.

He kept up the same pace, basking in the way you were so easily falling apart for him.

“Chuuya, please.”

A smirk tugged viciously at the corner of his mouth, slipping a finger into you this time as your walls swallowed him. "Please what, baby?"

You may have had him in the first half, but you were now on the losing end of this game. Forgetting how to speak altogether as you watched him part your legs even further, bending all the way down to rest his head between your thighs.

You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressing against you. The heavenly lines he was drawing uppp and downnn your center with his middle finger still sliding in and out of you. He was generous in the way he handled you, making sure he didn't miss a single spot. Lapping and slurping up every bit of cum he could as he added in another finger. Groaning against you the louder you got for him.

The only word you seemed to be able to remember was his name, repeating it over and over while your nails lodged deeper into his mahogany desk and your body shamelessly grinded against the warmth of his mouth.

You were in a delirious daze, losing yourself completely to the way he was devouring you.

He could feel you getting close too, noting the frantic rhythm of your hips. The gorgeous, fucked-out noises you were making for him. The death grip your walls suddenly had on him. He knew you were right there, right where he wanted you.

"Chuuya, 'm - I -"

Your legs were locking around his head, shaking uncontrollably as your hand ran through his hair.

He'd never admit it, but he almost could've came at the sounds you were making alone. The pouty way that you called out his name each time his fingers plunged into you was almost enough to drive him over the edge. You were so pathetic and adorable and he was determined to make everyone in Port Mafia hear just how needy you were for him.

As much as he wanted to edge you for what you'd done to him, as much as he wanted to make you beg and plead for him to let you cum, he couldn't fucking pull himself away from you. He was just as lost as you were, drowning in your cunt and not at all wanting to be saved.

His tongue didn’t leave you until he was absolutely sure that you'd ridden out every last wave of your orgasm, still pumping his digits in and out of you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He came up for air with an exhausted smile, wordlessly coaxing your lips apart with his thumb before bringing the two fingers he had fucked you with into your mouth. Letting you clean off the blend of slick and salvia the two of you had created together.

"See how fucking good you taste?" he panted. "I think this is gonna be a real problem for both of us."

An enamored shade of pink brushed across your cheeks as he dropped down onto the chair across from you, running a tired hand through his hair.

"At least I won't be here much longer, right?" You said, playfully kicking his leg with your foot.

"Oh yeah," he smirked. "That actually reminds me..." Your eyes widened as he shifted around to dig an envelope out of his pocket. "Mori wanted me to give this to you."

Your hands trembled, opening it as delicately as you could to make sure you didn't rip anything when a check for 1,490,200 yen fell into your lap.

"Think that'll be enough to buy yourself a shirt that fits?"

Your eyes snapped towards him in disbelief, your pulse ringing through your ears as you tried to process that you'd somehow made this amount of money in a little over a week.

"Is this -" You stammered, thinking back to what he had told you when you first met. "Is this like a severance check then? ...Hush money or whatever?"

"Tragically, no. Mori wants you to stay."

Your hand instinctively flew up to your neck, covering the love-bites that the redhead had left you with, horrified at the realization that everyone was going to see them. Even more horrified at the fact that they had probably heard how you’d gotten them.

"What?"

"Yeah, he said somethin' about you how you've been 'boosting the morale' around here."

Your head felt like it was going to explode.

You had not only been marked by Chuuya Nakahara, but you were now being asked to stay in Port Mafia.

You couldn't decide which was worse.

"So... that means..."

"Yep. We'll be seein' a lot more of each other." He confirmed while checking his watch. "But hey, you better get outta here, Rando and I have a meeting in 10 minutes."

You looked down at your lack of clothing, the spit and cum that was still stuck to your skirt, the obscenely noticeable bruises that he'd so proudly gifted you with.

"Give me your shirt." you demanded.

"Nah."

The grin he shot you was so cocky, so vile, so... hot.

"Chuuya." You whisper-shouted, biting back your own stupid smile. "Be so fucking for real right now, I can’t go out there like this.”

“Shoulda thought about that before you put on that skimpy-ass outfit I guess.” He shrugged.

You hopped off his desk, straddling him in his chair as you forcefully began to undo the buttons along his collar.

The room filled with suppressed laughter, neither one of you able to contain it anymore as he finally conceded, wrestling you off of him. "Alright, alright, chill. I have extras in here, hang on."

You both stood up, your eyes locked on him while he walked over to an expensive looking armoire in the corner of the room.

He pulled a white shirt that resembled the one you were wearing earlier off of a hanger and brought it over to you, guiding your arms up so that he could put it on.

His movements were calculated, almost thoughtful as he dressed you, adjusting it so that it covered up most of the damage he'd done.

"There." He said, double-checking his work. "Now get out of here before I decide to rip that one off of you too.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Part 2! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #bsd smut #soukoku #bsd x you #bsd chuuya #remwrites #skk #someone please take my laptop away #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara bsd #nakahara chuuya #bsd x female reader

642 notes · View notes

meanbossart · 3 months

Note

I've been loving the DU Drow as a companio asks, so I've got my own. I was wondering what kind of interactions he would have with the other companions.

More specifically, we know Astarion flirts with almost anyone (for his own reasons) and even sleeps with Bae'zel at the tiefling party if you turn him down as a player. So, since the Drow is in the group now, what would his interaction with Astarion be? Would Astarion assume him to be the strongest and best chance of survival if manipulated? Would Astarion try to sleep with the Drow the same way he would with Lae'zel?

(Regarding the companions in general) Oh I can easily see him and Shadowheart having some cute party banter, they'd poke light fun at each other and have a similarly "darkly dramatic" reaction to things. He'd easily be the most talkative with her, often initiating mundane conversations about stuff you find. I can see some dialogue between them triggering upon finding one of the many drink-stashes you come across where they discuss what they like best when it comes to wine - or what they think they like, at least, considering the state of their memories.

Gale would be eager to inquire him about drow and the underdark, and where he got his fighting prowess from, which would visibly annoy DU drow since he can't fucking remember anything LOL he'd comment about how he always thought male drow were supposed to be a little… Flimsier, prompting a response along the lines of "I suppose my mother must have fed me well. I do have quite the appetite for loud-mouths."

Gale's like :U my goodness. Point taken.

He might talk to Karlach about Avernus, being fond of the savage nature of it. He'd also ask her if "something's bothering her" and when she asks why he's asking, he comments on how she can never seem to be still for long LOL

If Jaheira joins the party later she takes an interest in him (I WONDER WHY) and they could also share a little friendly banter. DU drow ends up asking her things about Baldur's Gate and herself to fill the gaps in his memory, as well as her children. He expresses how, if he thought himself more fit for a father, he'd have some of his own. Jaheira tells him it's probably better this way.

The banter with Astarion would be pretty par for the course - a mix between being flirtatious in nature and a little passive-aggressive all at once. At some point he says he can't keep quiet about how he stinks of carrion - DU calmly tells him that it can't be helped, due to their circunstances, and that he has a pretty cadaveric perfume himself. Astarion gets offended and tells him he knows for a fact that he smells lovely - DU drow tells him those statements need not be mutually exclusive.

He'd also ask Wyll about Mizora and what it's like to be in her servitute, claiming that he "wouldn't mind doing her a few favors himself" and Wyll tries his darn best to brush that off.

Lae'zel picks on him about his, erm, unreliable state of mind and accuses DU drow of basically being a ticking-time-bomb. DU responds that he feels less like a bomb and more like a vent releasing a steady flow of noxious fumes - if that helps her sleep better at night.

He also snorts at Minthara's "jokes".

(Onto the second part of this already far-too-long reply:)

And I THINK SO, I think Astarion would take him for being more easily manipulated than Lae'zel and try his luck there instead.

Small detour: you know, I always thought it'd be neat if some of the companions formed relationships with each other if you didn't pursue them. We see friendships form but romances would be fun too - like Karlach and Shadowheart could get together if you didn't pair with either of them, and Ascended Astarion and Minthara if you happened to have that party configuration in act 3. I don't really see many of the others having that kind of chemistry, but I wouldn't want the whole camp to be in love with each other anyway lol just 1 or 2 other couples would make the party feel more autonomous.

So, in a world where that's a part of the game, I obviously would say they get together if you don't romance either (from a mechanic standpoint player still gets first dibs LOL) and that unlocks unique party banter and dialogue where you can ask them about it once per act and reveal the "status" of the relationship. In act 2 you get to comment about how they seem to "steal away" together often. Astarion implies they're obviously having sex, and that he's always wanted to "try a little drow - but a big one is even better". If you ask DU drow about it he keeps details and motivations to himself, but acknowledges that they have something going on. You can then tell him that you believe he's being used, and DU drow very nonchalantly says that "he's well aware", but that he isn't worried about it.

In Act 3, when you ask again, Astarion somewhat bashfully reveals that the drow grew on him, and if you press on about the topic he reveals that they haven't even had sex since act 1, they just do a lot of talking, as he sheepishly puts it. If you ask DU drow about it he's much more upfront in saying that they've become an item, and that he's very happy in Astarion's company.

#ask #companion DU drow #will start using that tag in case I ever wanna look back at these

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daistea · 5 days

Note

If you ever have the time, would you ever feel like taking a request with mithrun x an elf reader who's been taking care of him for a while? I've been thinking that they'd know of each other pre-demon, but weren't well acquainted (different circles, and reader is more introverted (like misril)) at the time until post-demon where they help nurse him to health and mayhaps join the canaries as a healer/support for the group.

If that's too specific, that's fine! You can take liberties.

If youre like "yeah that plain just won't happen with mithrun/hes not like that", that's fine! You don't need to write it if you don't want to

I don't want to force you or anything; it's just something that's been floating in my mind, recently!

Of course my friend! You asked so nicely <3

I think I’ll use she/her pronouns for the reader with this one if that’s cool!

Sooooo I’m assuming Mithrun was one of the Wardens in his squad. I don’t recall if it ever mentioned if he was in the first squad or the second. If it’s the second, then Milsiril might’ve been the Vice-Captain of his specific squad at the time, and Mithrun was her second in command like Pattadol is to him now. Cus u know Pattadol is second in command because she’s nobility, and Mithrun is nobility.. Yadda yadda. Let’s just go with that for simplicity’s sake. And since there’s only two Wardens to a squad, I’ve taken the liberty of making the reader a criminal, but it’s for something stupid like… jaywalking lol. Jaywalking using black magic. Or uh maybe using black magic to heal. Both? Two criminal charges, you rebel you

anywho..

tw suicide, mental illness, self harm, blood

Dungeon Meshi Spoilers ahead!

4500ish words

"Vignettes of a 40 Year Old Desire" - Mithrun x elf/healer female reader

●・○・●・○・●

Getting started was the hardest part.

You took a deep breath, your hands hovering over the wound. The slice in Mithrun’s arm was clean, with no brutal ridges. It would scar, but it would be a straight, neat white line on his skin when it was over. Even Mithrun’s wounds were perfect.

“Are you okay?” He asked. His voice was soft, and it reminded you of warm blankets on winter days. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and he offered a smile.

“Yeah,” you said. You sat beside him with your legs curled up beneath you. He sat with his legs criss-crossed, casual as if his bicep hadn’t just been nearly sliced open by the sword of a living armor. He had to be in pain, it was a deep wound. You’d managed to stop the excessive bleeding, but the paleness of his cheeks betrayed that he was feeling weak.

Still, starting was the hardest part.

You summoned your stores of mana, connecting to the spirits that made up the world. They were all around you, willing to obey, willing to lay upon Mithrun’s wound and graft his skin back together. A soft light glowed from beneath your palm as you ran your fingers around the edges of the wound. You weren’t sure why getting started was difficult for you, perhaps it was the feeling of magic pulsing through your veins that startled you, or the very fact that you had the ability to defy nature in this way. And there was that little bell that rang in the back of your mind, that urge to go further, deeper, darker.

That damn bell and its ringing had gotten your ears clipped.

You pulled back from Mithrun, letting your hands drop into your lap. “Done,” was all you said.

He blinked in surprise, then lifted his arm to inspect the spot where he’d been sliced. There was a faint scar, but it would probably fade if he got some sun. His lips twitched into a frown at the sight, but that expression immediately died, pushed aside and replaced with a smile. Mithrun didn’t need the sun, actually, he carried enough shine in his smiles…. Is what someone stupid would say.

“Thank you,” his voice was soft, polite. He pushed down the sleeve of his canary uniform and rolled his shoulders. Nearby, the rest of the team was setting up camp for the night. They laughed and passed around a wineskin. There was a spot on the ground between two of your peers, saved for Mithrun. Milsiril was a distance away with her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled up to her chest. She had a sewing needle that she meticulously threaded through the body of a ragdoll.

You expected Mithrun to stand up and cross the room to join the others. Yet, he didn’t. He stared at you, two silver eyes filled with curiosity. You returned the look and raised a brow as if to silently ask what he needed.

Finally, Mithrun offered a slightly bashful smile, “You don’t really socialize much, do you? Oh,” he perked up, eyes widening, “I don’t mean that in a bad way, of course. I mean, you’re shy, right? I just don’t know that much about you.”

And that drove him mad.

You were entirely too aware of Mithrun’s true nature. The others were too busy basking in his light, caught up in his orbit, trapped in his web. Even Milsiril deigned to notice. She could’ve if she wanted, she simply didn’t want to— it would be like looking in the sun, and once you got past the blinding light and actually looked, you would already be burnt.

You saw the looks on his face when nobody was looking. You didn’t mean to see them, you didn’t mean to stare, but it had become a habit to watch his reactions. There was a flicker of irritation in his eyes sometimes, the hint of a frown when someone didn’t play his game exactly how he planned. There were moments when his shoulders would tense and his smile would turn tight. There were moments he’d avoid answering questions about himself and turn the subject around on the inquirer to keep his history and feelings and thoughts hidden behind a very sturdy, well-guarded wall.

You were more interested in him than you’d like to admit. You’d drawn several conclusions: Mithrun genuinely enjoyed the company of others, but he couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t help but scowl when they weren’t looking and judge their decisions and look down on everything they said and did. He even did it to you.

Which was precisely why you avoided him for the most part. You didn’t want him to know more about you, to provide more ammunition so he could reload his weapon and fire it straight into your back.

So, all you had to say was, “Yeah, we don’t really talk much.” And you smiled as innocently as you could before standing up and wandering to a corner near Milsiril.

Mithrun’s eyes lingered on your back. He was probably making that face he made when displeased that his charm didn’t work; analytical, a hint of darkness, one could practically see the red-inked assumptions scribbling onto parchment in his head, destined to be filed under a wildly critical and exaggerated category and kept there until the end of time.

You only wished you understood why he was like that.

Mithrun disappeared without warning. The squad had been dispatched to the Central Observation Tower because yet another person had disappeared in the area. Mithrun offered to take his friend’s scouting duty into a dark tunnel because she was afraid of spiders and was convinced that there were millions of them in that specific dark tunnel. Milsiril offered to send you along with him, but at that time you were trying to heal a sprained ankle of another squad member. Mithrun waved a dismissive hand and smiled, “It’s no problem. I’ll be fine on my own, but thanks!”

That was the last you saw of him.

Milsiril had someone slumped on her arm. She held them up, breathing heavily and covered in dirt and blood and dirty blood. You rushed toward the scene. The person had silver hair caked with quickly drying streaks of red. His head lolled. But he was breathing. Thank goodness, he was breathing.

Milsiril gently laid Mithrun on the ground. Immediately, you sat beside him, your hands on his cheeks and forcing open his eyes— eye. Singular. The right one was a mess. There was no time to question that, though. You summoned a light spell and opened his eyelid and black irises greeted you. Weren’t his eyes silver before? It was dim, too. Yet, his chest moved up and down and his heart was still beating. You let go of his face and he closed his eyes again, head lolling to the side as he let out a soft exhale.

“So, this is where he’s been?” You asked Milsiril.

She nodded, “He became the dungeon lord. This place…” she glanced up at the twisted walls and long corridors that led to nowhere. There were monster corpses nearby. So many monsters, strong ones, weird ones with horrific teeth and eyes. “It’s a representation of him. I never knew…”

You knew, sort of. You just didn’t think it would get to this level. You didn’t think he’d fall to the demon. You didn’t think—

There was no time for thinking. You had to get started on healing him. For once, getting started wasn’t so hard, not when your heart raced, not when you were desperate for someone to live.

When Mithrun was conscious again, you offered your hand to help him stand.

He didn’t take it.

Of one thing you were certain: Mithrun of the house of Kerensil had no desire to live.

“You should’ve let me die.”

You perked up at the sound of his voice. It was the first time Mithrun had spoken in perhaps a month, and his vocal cords betrayed that fact. His voice was scratchy with disuse, and it was a struggle for him to speak. As you glanced over your shoulder to look at him, he didn’t bother meeting your eyes. His gaze was on the window near his bed, but he wasn’t looking at anything, not really.

“I should’ve let you die?” You echoed. You could hear the anger in your own voice. Mithrun didn’t care, you knew.

He simply nodded. A lock of silver fell over his bony shoulder. His collarbones were too pronounced. The sight made a fire start in your chest.

“Mithrun?” You asked.

He turned his head to look at you. One eye, as black as an endless pit, landed on your face. The other was covered by bandages.

And he waited. He didn’t actually care about what you had to say, you knew. But you had to say it.

“Don’t ever say those words to me again.”

Mithrun only stared, “Alright.”

Then he returned his attention to the window that he was not looking out of.

You don’t know when or why you started to care so much.

You’d always cared about people. You’d always wanted to help. But you didn’t even really like Mithrun before the dungeon incident. Now, his recovery was all you could focus on. And you were absolutely obsessed with the state of things.

“I don’t know what to do,” his brother whispered, desperate, “I’ve hired so many caretakers but they just don’t do anything for him. I mean, they do things, but he’s not getting any better.”

Someone had to break the news to him. “I don’t think anything we do is going to make him any better.”

“I want him to be better,” his brother furrowed his brows and took a deep breath.

You wanted the same. But for now, all you could do was keep Mithrun alive. As long as he ate and slept and breathed, that was good enough for now. That was all he could manage.

You visited the Kerensil family home more often these days. You weren’t sure why, but you cared. When he screamed at night and scratched himself to the point of bleeding, you healed him without a word. When he got ahold of a kitchen knife and put it to his throat, you wrestled it away from him, then helped his brother install locks on all the cabinets and drawers. When Mithrun snuck out at night to go slaughter every goat within a 50 mile radius, you cleaned the blood from his hair and hands.

You’d basically moved in. The captain had given you permission to dedicate time to Mithrun’s healing, since they would’ve liked to have him join again once he was better. To the other Canaries, this was part of your sentence. To you, this was part of your purpose.

You and Mithrun talked a lot. You talked the most. He stayed quiet, so you weren’t sure if you could consider it as actually holding a conversation. You weren’t sure if he was even listening. But once, when you were softly explaining the importance of getting rune shapes exactly right, you stopped and stared at your hands. You’d begun to enter dark territory, the study of black magic that had brought you to this place in life.

The silence stretched on for a minute or two before Mithrun tilted his head. His hair was splayed out on his pillow and his good eye was open, blinking, slightly alert.

“Continue,” he said.

So you continued. And he stared at the ceiling. And you knew that he was listening. He didn’t care, of course, but he was listening.

One night, Mithrun nearly hit a vital organ with a piece of glass from the bathroom mirror that he’d shattered.

You healed it, the light from your hands growing brighter than usual. Your shoulders were tense and you couldn’t help but scowl and growl and mutter.

Mithrun just looked at you, “You know this isn’t what I want.”

“I don’t care,” you answered immediately.

He grit his teeth, “I don’t want to live.”

“I want you to live!” You exploded. He flinched backward, but no emotion passed over his face. He simply stared. You gulped down your feelings and continued healing him.

Maybe that was selfish of you. You didn’t care.

Milsiril was a mother. Milsiril was a caretaker. Milsiril was a toymaker and she knew how to wind them up and set them on the path again.

“I’m ready to go back into the dungeon,” Mithrun said. His voice was still scratchy, but he was sitting up on his bed for once. He’d gained a few pounds and his shoulders weren’t sharp as knives anymore.

Milsiril only shook her head, “Not yet, I’m sorry.”

Mithrun looked at you as if he expected you to ally with him. You knew him the best, you knew what he wanted in life. You even knew what his secret desire was, the one he couldn’t admit to himself.

You shook your head as well, “You’re still underweight and you haven’t quite gotten the hang of taking care of yourself yet.”

Mithrun’s expression only darkened, “Then let’s keep practicing.”

Where Milsiril was more concerned with making Mithrun socially acceptable enough to rejoin society, you were much more concerned about his living conditions, health, and dignity. It was a relief that he’d stopped trying to pick the locks on the knife drawer. It was not a relief that Mithrun was planning for his inevitable death against the demon— not that he’d admit that.

He wanted different things now. No longer was his goal to die from withering away, but rather to die at the hands of the god who once served him. Still, it involved him dying. There was this feeling you had inside, comparable to the feeling you had when you were first being hunted by the Canaries. You knew it was inevitable that they would find you and jail you or make you join them. Anticipation rose in your chest until it finally burst when they tied up your wrists and clipped your ears.

Now, anticipation was rising again. It had been rising for the last twenty or so years that you’d spent at Mithrun’s side. You could only wonder when it would burst, and when you’d end up as scraps on the floor like the shreds of a popped balloon. You could only wonder.

When Mithrun rejoined the Canaries, you went with him. He said nothing about that. You were the one who cut his hair shorter for functionality reasons. You were the one who delivered his new uniform and made sure it fit. You were the one who sat on his back as he did push ups for training— which was actually the most fun with him you’d had in the last twenty years. It was kind of silly, but it was good to see him willing to do things like exercise and challenge himself, even if his end goal was just to reach the demon.

There was a lot of teasing involved when you two returned to the Canaries.

“Are you in love with him or something?” Helki asked behind his hand. He cast a glance at Mithrun, who was sitting nearby and silently staring out the window.

You made a face, “With Mithrun? No. I love him, but not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He snorted, “You’ve been like his little wife for the last few decades.”

“I don’t think I would consider all that as wife-like,” you retorted.

“Why do you do it, then?”

Was it truly so impossible for someone to comprehend caring for another individual without expecting something in return? Or not having a motive? You supposed there was a motive, but it wasn’t romance. You just… cared. You wanted him to stay alive and get better. And he was relatively better, now. Relatively.

You patted Helki’s shoulder, “Because he’s my friend. Nothing more.”

You didn’t notice, but Mithrun’s head tilted. He always listened to you, even when you didn’t think so.

“Can you help her?” Flamela jutted a thumb toward where you and Mithrun sat. Her voice, louder than everybody else’s in the Canary’s headquarters, caught your attention. Mithrun kept his arms crossed and his gaze on the recruits training outside.

Cithis blinked in surprise. Her eyes landed on you and you returned the look with a hesitant smile.

“It’s a lot to explain,” Flamela continued, “but Captain Mithrun needs help and [name] needs a break.”

Your brows furrowed. You hadn’t expressed needing a break before. You were fine. You liked taking care of Mithrun. Yet before you could protest, Flamela was already walking away. And Cithis stood there with her hands folded and her eyes curious, analyzing.

Dread settled into your chest.

“You’re not some helpless baby, Mithrun,” you didn’t mean to yell, nor pace, nor gesture so wildly with your hands, but you couldn’t help it. “You’re not a dog, not a slave, not someone who can be exploited for entertainment! You’re a person and you deserve respect!”

Mithrun only raised a brow, “So, you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you snapped, sounding quite mad at him. Yet you pulled yourself together and took a deep breath, “No, Mithrun, I’m not mad at you. It’s not your fault. I just wish people saw you as more than what you’re going through. You’re the damn Captain of the Canaries now, you’ve risen above some really tough shit and you’re capable and strong and—”

Lord.

The realization hit you like a slap to the face.

You froze, mouth hanging open, eyes on Mithrun. He only stared, as he tended to do, waiting for you to say something. But you couldn’t. You’d been slapped in the face by reality and now everything ached.

“I’ve got to go,” you managed to squeak out before running toward the door. You left his bedroom behind and darted down the hallway of the Canaries Headquarters. You shared a room with a few other criminals, but they weren’t there when you burst inside and collapsed onto your bed. You were in your late 100’s yet there you were, screaming into your pillow like a 60 year old.

You’re in love.

“I’m in love,” you said out loud, which you immediately regretted because that made things real.

You’re in love. You’re in love. You’re in love and it hurts so much because Mithrun could never love you back. Were you a masochist? Probably. Your heart hurt. You suddenly understood the concept of heartbreak, it felt as if your heart was about to physically fall apart. Realizing that you’re in love should be a happy moment. It shouldn’t hurt so much.

Alright, you decided. You’re going to ignore it like an adult. You’re going to take this secret to the grave.

Captain Mithrun’s team was a mess.

But they were fun.

“Hey,” Lycion elbowed you one night at the dinner table. He leaned down to whisper while you were mid-bite of a piece of chicken. “Do you think the Captain would let me check out the fighting scene on that island? Like, we could put off the whole negotiations thing for a day so I can go see it?”

Mithrun personally wouldn’t care, you knew, but he would refuse Lycion’s request for the sake of getting into the dungeon faster. You swallowed your food and sent him a glance, “Why’re you asking me? Pattadol’s the one that does all the decision stuff with Mithru— the Captain.”

“But you know him best.”

True enough. Still, you were just the healer, still a criminal sentenced to another 40 or so years of Canary service. You sent Lycion an apologetic smile, “Sorry. I don’t think he would.”

“Can you ask him?” Lycion used that purring voice he always utilized on certain targets unwilling to obey.

You remained unaffected, “I don’t see why you think me asking him would make a difference.”

“The Captain would do anything you asked!” He explained, “Within reason, of course. You’re his girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you forced the satisfaction down. “I’m not his girl. And he pretty much does whatever anyone tells him to do as long as it doesn’t interfere with his goals, so I’m not any different.”

“You’re blind,” Lycion muttered, “so blind.”

Mithrun had been pulled into the stupid pit thing or whatever with that stupid Kabru guy. You were going to pull your hair out.

When he reunited with the Canaries, he actually looked rather well-taken care of. You begrudgingly admitted that Kabru may not be as stupid as you thought, but you couldn’t let go of your anger at the entire situation. You still wanted to pull your hair out, mostly because you were resisting the urge to wrap your arms around the Captain and squeeze until your bodies melted together.

Mithrun noticed your stress and slowly approached you. He patted your head, “I’m fine,” he said.

He could be shot in the chest and he’d still claim to be fine.

“When this is all over,” you managed to say through the fog of anger and worry and adoration and fury, “we’re taking a holiday. We’ll go to the Eastern Archipelago and we’re sitting on the beach and we’re going to do very safe things like build sandcastles or take naps.”

Mithrun looked down at you. He stared, as was his tendency. Then he raised both brows and you thought that just for a second, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. An affectionate smile. Perhaps it was hopeful thinking, an illusion brought forth by stress. You weren’t sure.

His hand that was on your head slowly ran down the side of your cheek and to your chin, lifting your face so you’d look at him. He didn’t hold you for long, though, letting his arm drop to his side when he had your attention. “When we have time, I will go where you go,” he said.

You wanted to smack him in his stupid beautiful face for being so sweet. What was wrong with him? Was he in a good mood? You could only narrow your eyes in suspicion.

Of course, Mithrun walked away after that, back to the mission at hand. Yet his words echoed. I will go where you go.

That was more like something you would say to him. You’ve made the decision to be at his side for the last 40 years. You would follow him to the ends of the earth.

Surely, he didn’t mean it.

But then again, Mithrun wasn’t in the habit of lying unless it served his purpose. And he wouldn’t lie to you, of all people. Surely not.

The demon was gone and Mithrun had lost his purpose in life.

How scary, you thought. How terrifying to lose your one reason for living. You’d most likely be on the ground, slumped up against a tree and expecting to wither away just like him. But unlike you, Mithrun had people who cared for him, who wouldn’t accept that fate for him, who loved him.

Senshi and Kabru said their pieces. The Canaries all agreed with a chorus of encouragement and opinions and friendship.

You offered your hand, like you always did, like you’d been doing for the last four decades.

He took it.

Mithrun placed his hand in yours. And the anticipation bubble that had been building in your chest for so long finally popped. But you were okay. It was okay. He was okay.

Mithrun pardoned you, surprisingly. You told him that wasn’t necessary and that he should use his pardon on someone else who had a longer sentence. There were only 40 years left for you. Surely they wouldn’t be as long as the last 40 years had been.

“No, it's you I want,” Mithrun said rather casually, “you’re staying with me in Melini.”

He wanted something. He wanted you.

You forced yourself to stay upright, “Alright. If you insist.”

Living with Mithrun in this state was very different. It was fun, heartbreaking, difficult, easy, calm, chaotic. Some days, he laid in bed and stared at the wall. Other days, he made noodles and walked through the forest and sat on the beach with you, doing very safe things like building sandcastles and taking naps. Many people in town assumed you two were married. You always corrected them, Mithrun never did.

He observed monsters and would need healing sometimes. You would push up the sleeve of his tunic and trace your fingers along old scars, none of them perfect. Then, heal him, as you tend to do.

“Are you sure you want this?” Mithrun asked one day.

You looked up to meet his eyes. Ink black, your favorite color. “What?”

“You can spend your life any way you want now,” he explained, his voice flat, “you’re free. I’m not your burden anymore.”

Your heart clenched in your chest. “You have never been a burden to me.”

“I used to hate you for keeping me alive.”

“I know.”

“And you never hated me?”

“I sometimes did,” you admitted softly, fingers tracing over his skin. You recalled this certain scar, from a pair of scissors you wrestled out of his hands at two in the morning years ago. “But it was the kind of hate that only stems from love.”

“You have always treated me like a human,” Mithrun murmured. His free hand went to your chin and lifted your face, “Like someone that deserves to live. You loved me despite my inability to give you anything in return. But I’m able now,” he leaned closer, “so allow me this.”

Damn. That had to be the first time you’d ever heard Mithrun say anything like tha—

He was kissing you.

It took you a moment to realize what was happening. His lips were on yours and your heart felt as if it might explode. Your hands shook as you raised them, eventually finding their way to his hair. That felt right. This was right. He deepened the kiss, slowly pushing forward. It was slow and careful and calm. It held so many words that neither of you were able to say. As he gently ran his hand up your thigh and to your hips, you couldn’t help but shiver.

40 years of longing accumulated into this moment. In a dark house in a new kingdom in a demon-free world, you started something new, and for once it wasn’t difficult at all.

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fernlessbastard · 1 month

Note

ok so as a tntduoer i aggressively defend ctntduo to haters that rhey absolutely could have a healthy relationship and i dont need to explain y to U ofc but i also acknowledge that they were bad for each other in canon and it would take a lot of time for things to work

basically imo i see that quackity would be the "vampire" in the duo for sucking the relationship dry initially. quackity had the worst most bloodsucking relationship with schlatt and then felt like karlnap didn't care and think and remember abt him enough.

with his rivalry with wilbur he'd absolutely lash out at any chemistry and infatuation they have initially, bc he'd want any new attempt at a relationship (especially with wilbur) to have the other person prove themselves worthy by being willing to sacrifice everything for cq like quackity had in his past relationships (see: cquackity proposing wilbur becomes his vice president, a mirror to his relationship with schlatt) he'd repeat patterns by schlatt repeatedly convincing himself that it's a defense bc wilbur was a man of power like schlatt too- who rlly did spit at the mere suggestion of being a vice president- i know it's canon that he's a mimicry of all those who have harmed him n the server in the past but god is the reflection with his relationship with wilbur neat.

oh there's definitely lots of parallels between tnt duo and Q's past relationship

both these bitches need constant reassurance ngl they're very mentally ill - Q would definitely push Wilbur to see if he actually cares about him (not just his ass/hj), but also Wilbur definitely would "act out" and be insufferable as a desperate, silent cry for reassurance that he is in fact loved and he isn't too much

idk i think there's a case to be made for either of them initially being a "vampire" in the relationship, so I'd say it's probably mutual, fluctuating depending on the day or hour

THAT BEING SAID they have a type of relationship where they definitely would stick together despite all that - they're like, literally obsessed with each other, and they're the closest to a safe space for one another - and i do think they'd just almost accidentally end up developing a pretty healthy (if you ignore codependency lmao) relationship over time purely cause they just cling to each other and actually care

#ask #asks #ask fern #quackbur headcanons #tntblr #tntduo #tnt duo #quackbur #dsmp #dream smp #quackity #c!tnt duo #c!tntduo #revivebur #revivedbur #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot #c!quackity

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tezuze · 13 days

Text

A hero Hiro and his party

My cringe rambles below the cut- because I can never be short winded!

Hi welcome to the cringe rambles

Okay okay, stupid things I headcannoned:

Hiro

Class: Paladin

Weapon: Gamma sword

Stats: Balanced

Magic: Fire, wind, electric, light, dark (mid level spells)

I want some cool way to incorporate the whole Gammamon thing. Was thinking his sword at least would be cursed and be something only he can control. Maybe the sword can have different modes like the Monado to represent the other evolutions? There's some clever way to incorporate the Gamma gimmick, I just can't fully think of it....

Ruli

Class: Theif/Assassin if that's not too dark

Weapon: Dual daggers

Stats: High attack and speed, low sp. attack and HP

Magic: Wind (low level spells)

The mysterious masked Lirurun!

I know typically the theif class has terrible defense but while I was making these designs I kept going between if she should be a berserker tank like Lamortmon or be a speed type attacker like SymbareAngoramon and Diarbbitmon. Ultimately, I think it'd be cool if she was kind of a blend between the two classes

Kiyoshiro

Class: Cleric

Weapon: Staff (not pictured)

Stats: High sp. attack and HP, low attack and defense

Magic: Healing, electric (high level spells)

Church of Thetis' youngest priest!

Yes this is a fantasy setting, but his wrapped hand still has to hold no significance

His silly little integer overflow/limit break is perfect for an rpg gimmick, but I wouldn't want him to have a special gauge or anything if the others don't. Maybe he can have high healing/low spells initially and then flip to low healing/high spells if his HP is half or less to represent that? Oh that'd be so annoying.... (Also Ruli needs a gimmick)

Digimon-wise, I initially liked the idea of the partners also joining the party for a full team of 6 but I think they'd be too similar to the humans, plus I borrowed too much of the digimon's design for the overall aesthetic of the party not to look boring with digimon included.

My friend came up with the idea that the Digimon could be like spirits, that only certain humans have the ability to perceive, kinda like....

Ghosts.

Ha.

Anyway, if I go with that idea, the digimon could either bless their human with power or they could just be silly little guys that accompany the party.

Wouldn't it be funny if the digimon were the ones that sit back while the humans fight? Okay moving on...

I think Airdramon would be the first form of travel, then Ginryumon to get to other locations. (Then, maybe possibly HoverEspimon for the final form of travel, if I must incorporate them)

Also, clearly Blacktailmon Uver. Acts as a traveling merchant for items and such

And there's gotta be sidequests to add more members of the digimon gang (which means Labramon sidequest!!)

OKAY I'LL ACTUALLY SHUT UP NOW

I'm sorry to put you through that ^^" would love to hear if others have any neat ideas of incorporating stuff from the show into an rpg setting, I am s u c h a sucker for that kinda thing

#alt title: Digimon Ghost Game the Game #Also I've been fixating over GG for like a year and this is somehow the first time I've drawn Hiro???#His hair is dumb #tezuze scribbles #digimon #digimon ghost game #ghost game #GG sort #ruli tsukiyono #hiro amanokawa #kiyoshiro higashimitarai #digimon fanart #digimon art #fantasy au

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darlingsfandom · 8 months

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hii idk if u write dark fics but could you do a yandere!emmett where he kidnaps the reader, you don’t have to write it if it makes u uncomfortable!!

hi!! I've never wrote dark fics before but hey! First time for everything right! Also thank you for asking ✨

WARNINGS: kidnapping, fingering, slight breeding kink! Swearing ...

No, it wasn't Emmett's fault. It couldn't have been his fault that you were alone. You were alone in your room at least you had thought. Emmett wasn't really anything to you, just another guy in the village. He was older than you by a good twenty maybe even thirty years, but you can't lie his eyes were a very pretty shade of blue and the scruff wasn't too bad but he's just another guy.

Emmett had wanted you since the day you were found out in the woods. Lee had found you alone and scared but brought you to the village and helped you get on your feet. Emmett watched your every move since then. It wasn't creepy too him because if you didn't know how he watched you when you went to bed or how you'd cook dinner for one, it's not creepy just merely observing his favorite person.

You were laid out on your bed flipping through some magazine about the hottest new Hollywood couple when the sound of foot steps perked you up. You set the magazine down and then the steps stopped. Your fingers wrapped around the bat you had next to your bed before you got up and slowly approached your bedroom door. With a quick open you jumped back and swung the bat only to realize you were swinging at nothing. You rubbed your forehead with your freehand. "For fucks sake!" You whispered yelled to yourself making yourself try to calm down again but because you let your guard down Emmett took his chance. His leather gloved hand wrapped around your mouth and the other around your waist. Your body instantly went into fight mode, your legs trying to kick and arms trying to flee, but they couldn't. Emmett might be older than you but he's sure as hell a lot stronger.

"Shh!" He whispered into your ear before biting down onto the lobe. Emmett used his strength to drag you down the hallway, out the back door and into his old pickup truck. He made sure to keep everything neat as possible just in case anyone decided they'd stop to see you. You should've ran when he had you the truck but you didn't know Emmett like that. He was crazy enough to kidnap you from your own home, he could kill you right there. Emmett got his truck going and drove in silence as you sat there with your hands tied poorly in some old rope.

Your eyes stung from the tears as Emmett pulled into the dark part of the woods. "Oh my god!" You whispered to yourself as he circled the truck, yanked you out by your arm and dragged you through the wet ground until you were shoved inside a little shack. "Please don't kill me!" You blurted out as he pulled the string on the light.

"Kill ya? Why on earth would I kill ya? You've seen too many movies my dear. I'm not gonna kill ya." He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head before pulling out the pocket knife , cut the rope and tossed it aside before shoving you into the work bench. "I would never kill ya. Ya might be pretty but ya sure are stupid to think I'd hurt ya doll. Ya see, yer ma girl and I'd never let anyone hurt you so that's why I had to bring ya here. Gotta protect ya!" Emmetts beard tickled against your cheek when he leaned in and kissed you. It took you by surprise and as much as you wanted to push him off and run, your legs wouldn't let you. Emmett's hands ran over your hips before yanking down your pajama shorts. A small gasp left your lips as the cool breeze blew across your wet spot on your panties.

Emmett had the pocket knife in his hand as he held it against your throat. "Now I know ya ain't the brightest star baby , but please don't try anything stupid. I'd had for ya to get hurt. Just let me do what I want to ya because yer mine ! And I will play with ya however I please." The blade ran across your pressure point, down between your breasts, over your stomach and finally ripped open your panties.

"So wet already. It shouldn't turn ya on that I've kidnapped ya and am holding your life in my hands and wet yer soaked." He teased you as his index finger toyed over your folds slowly while his lips attached to the pressure points on your neck biting gently until you snapped back into reality when he pulled away and the feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of you going faster with each second made your knees buckle while your hands gripped the work bench behind you. Emmett licked over the bite as he pumped his fingers harder. "What a freak you are sweetheart! Getting off on my fingers . " He couldn't handle it anymore and yanked his fingers out leaving a you feeling empty but only for a few seconds because once reality washed over you again that you were in fact getting fucked by your kidnapper, Emmett was already thrusting his fat cock into your tight pussy.

"Ya got a tight little pussy baby! It's mine!" He growled into your ear while snapping his hips into yours harder and harder. "Ya wanted this! Ya NEEDED this! Needed me to take care of ya. No one was ever satisfying enough for ya! " tears streamed down your face as Emmett took no mercy on you.

"Don't ya dare cry baby! Yer already so wet and your thighs are shaking! Can't believe yer going to cum because ya getting fucked by yer kidnapper and lover! So fucked up! Ya dirty slut! My! DIRTY! SLUT!" With each snap Emmett got closer to his own orgasm making you cry harder until the own feeling in your belly fired up.

"That's it pretty baby, cum on my cock while I fill you up and knock ya up! Look so good carrying my baby in ya belly!" His eyes rolled back into his head as he filled you to the brim with his cum which made your own orgasm hit you hard. You cried loudly while dragging your nails down his back.

"Aww see baby, ya really were meant to be mine and only mine." Emmett smirked down at you before giving the most loving kiss you've ever felt.

#emmet #a quiet place emmett #a quiet place smut #a quiet place Emmett smut #cillian smut #Cillian Murphy #cillian murphy smut #emsblurbs

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wickjump · 24 days

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hey.

would you like to hear an xtale siblings thought?

rhetorical question.

(abuse mention bc its the fucking xtale siblings)

so. according to jakei (via cornmayors twitter), xpapyrus is "the kind of person who would harvest his own food", which is pretty cute i think. ik corn has a comic abt xasriel being into gardening, and i think theres some canon stuff that might support that, too? so yeah neat, papyrus and asriel/flowey friendship prevails!! they have a common interest/hobby, thats pretty cute, yknow?

but like. i was thinking, right? what would make xpap want to garden? not that he necessarily needs a reason, but..

and i mean the (possible) explanation is pretty damn clear. its been shown before that xgaster doesnt care abt his kids and doesnt seem to provide for them most of the time. im guessing they went hungry a lot as kids.

and like xpap has been shown to be more outspoken, defying orders and/or talking back on multiple occasions (sometimes making cross step in to "correct" him to avoid or at least soften xgasters wrath), so i think if he was hungry hed just say it, and depending on his mood xgaster would either tell him thats not his problem or begrudgingly give them something (or make xalphys go buy food or cook or whatever)

but cross? cross wouldnt say a fucking word. he could be dying of starvation and hed say hes just fine to avoid the potential punishment of "inconveniencing" xgaster

so like. im thinking. what if xpap started growing his own food because he didnt want to be so dependent on someone who couldnt be assed to provide for them? because he was tired of going hungry and being punished for trying to get the only person who could do something abt that to actually... do something? because he was tired of seeing his brother suffer in silence because he was too scared to say anything?

i can see him finding some like.. tomato seeds or something. maybe just planting a slice from food xgaster finally brought them in the hope that it grows into a plant eventually. cross would definitely help him care for the plants. maybe xalphys would occasionally bring him books about gardening or new seeds or just tell him general knowledge so he could more successfully grow things.

idk like. we see a lot of cross caring for xpap (bc of course he would, hes his older brother), but xpap explicitly caring for and providing for cross in return makes me bash my head into the wall /pos like ik thats normal. to yknow. care for and provide for your family. but god damn.

they make me violently ill.

(this was very xpap centric bc im very normal abt him (lie) hope youre ok w that)

vomits glitter everywhere youre soright..!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also dont worry ily xpapyrus ilysm..... xpapyrus u deserved better... i love any characters from any au theyre all so cool....

UGHHHHHHHHHH i love it when younger siblings take care of the older ones,,, ugh.. .., i mean xalphys is the youngest of the three, meaning papyrus would technically be the middle sibling but yk what. that makes it better actully imo. middle sibling takes ccare of the other two.

ANYWAY yes. xpap is the most outspoken, as you said, out of them all about xgaster's mistreatment. while cross is silent and alphys is indifferent (outwardly) towards xgaster, xpapyrus is the one with the strongest sense of justice. cross is anxious, xalphys pretty much had her will to fight stripped away from her, but xpapyrus still has that spark in him, and that spark remains despite everything. he'd tell xgaster that he's hungry, because he's hungry, dammit, and if xgaster doesn't feed him, he'll take matters into his own hands. i can imagine xgaster picking a burger up for him after hours of nagging, and xpapyrus plants the whole tomato slice in a bunch of dirt in a tupperware bowl for later.

xpapyrus would defend those plants with his life if he had to because to him, as a child, i think they'd be synonymous with 'he doesn't have complete power over us. look, this is something i did on my own, something he doesn't control'. it would be the first bit of independence he's ever really had. xasriel probably helped as well because he thought it was just a fun hobby of xpapyrus' and not a means to not starve. this also probably helped cement xpapyrus and cross' loyalty to the dreemurr family,,

im ill about them too UGH.... the xtale siblings (+ chara/frisk) are my favorites ever and i just...man!!! the way xgaster abused them all in so many different ways is SO overlooked in this fandom and its my number one duty to make sure eveyrone knows how terrible xgaster is,,.!!! hes a child beater!!!!!!! cross, xpapyrus, xchara, xfrisk, and probably xalphys were beaten children!!!!!!

#rambling again #its my favorite au... xtale..wow...#xtale papyrus #xpapyrus #xalphys #xtale alphys #cross sans #xtale #underverse #utmv #undertale #xgaster #cw neglect #cw child abuse #cw child neglect

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barblaz-arts · 9 months

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OMG ITS SO COOL THAT ONE OF PUGSLEY’S KIDS IS A MANANANGGAL !! and a boy ??? mananaggal ?? (unless im completely misunderstanding that)

anyways as a filipino its just so cool to see stuff with my culture in it (those posts abt the wenclair fam going to jollibee made me so happy!!!)

btw, what made u decide to create those characters as pugsley’s kids?

Something that I'll give the show props for is subverting what would usually be represented genderwise for monsters. Gorgons are usually women, but they had a boy be one(the only thing I like about him--). And there isn't a lot of female werewolves out there in media. And I'm not talking about stories that are about werewolves. Cuz yknow. Duh of course there'd be female werewolves. But I'm talking about stories about monsters. If you have a show about different monsters or fantasy characters and there's a werewolf, they'd usually give you an angsty and/or wild dude as the main werewolf.

But Wednesday's(the show) main werewolf is a happy girly girl. The only other similar instance I can think of at the top of my head is Ruby from Once Upon A Time. That's probably why the twist in Ruby's episode was so shocking. You expect the dude to be the werewolf. Not the femme girl who dyes the tips of her hair and would probably cry if she ruins her manicure.

Anyways. Monsters that are always majorly represented by one gender is boooorrriiiiiing. Let's mix it up a little.

Sorry that got long.

So! About Pugsley's kids!

I'm not sure about the B&W series, but in the animated movies, Pugsley's a bit of a hopeless romantic. So growing up, I like to think he got around. The problem is he also has terrible luck with women, so none of them lasted, not because he's fickle -- he would fall in love deeply every single time -- but because he just has dog shit luck. He is Fester's nephew after all. So all three kids are Pugsley's from different baby mommas. I'll talk more about em later.

As for what made me choose em

Dante - I've previously mentioned that I headcanon Pugsley as a pyrokinetic because of his love for explosives. I think it'd be neat if he had a girlfriend who came from literal hell and had a baby demon with her

Jasper - some time back when the fandom was still super active, people making their nevermore sona was a trend on twitter. I actually wanted to join and have mine be a manananggal, but I couldn't because I was both busy and was never really a fan of drawing myself(not cuz of like self esteem issues. im pretty darn cute actually! i just prefer to draw other people). but i still wanted to draw a manananggal in Nevermore, and I figured just having it be an OC for Pugsley's child is the perfect opportunity

Briar - those faceless students are sooo damn cool. I love them a lot. I wanted more from them in the show. So I'm just making the content I craved for. Also a faceless little girl whose aunt is Wednesday, pokerface queen, and looks up to her for it? Too funny and cute of a thought to me.

#asks #next gen nevermore au

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saintbleeding · 4 months

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what was that about Danny and Gerry? 👁👁I'm Intrigued

HAHAHA WELL.

“So, um, well done. Um… I sort of didn’t have a neat button to—to put on this, because you’re the writer, and I didn’t get you to proofread, because I didn’t want to risk you trying to get me to take out the line about your wife being hot, so…” Danny lifts his glass and gestures around the room. Everyone follows. “So I thought I’d just say, er, I hope I’m…” His voice cracks. “I hope I’m just like you when I grow up, and… and I probably speak for everyone when I say—we love you, and, um. Congratulations.” It’s hardly ‘to your health’, but everyone gets the idea. Melanie frowns warningly as she taps her glass to Jon’s. Gerry takes the microphone back and moves towards the centre of the dance floor. “Wow, everyone! Beautiful man, and a beautiful mind. What’s not to love?” It occurs to Jon that there’s a distinct possibility that Gerry is not, as they say, doing a bit.

(this is from neither sad, nor sick, nor merry, nor well) (the sixth chapter)

honestly the Bit started just as the fact that i thought it might be a little bit cute if gerry was being a menace and not respecting the context of a big wedding (at which he is MCing) (with gertrude) (they'd be good at it i think), and then i realised he could be. flirtatious with danny. who. i have to be honest if i do not have strong feelings in a certain direction, everyone is bi to me (bi person), so this applied to danny as well and i was like oh. cute if. he was into gerry's flirting.

and in that fic it's mostly just a background thing that occurs but honestly tbh to be honest it sort of stuck in my head afterwards bc like... yes u might think danny is Pure Jock but also he is clearly a nerd who develops weird intense niche interests,,, u might think gerry is Pure Goth but he went to italy on holiday,,,,,,,,,, he has diverse interests,,,,,,,,,,,,,, i'm not going to lie i also am soft for the idea that they've both canonically been underground or in a tunnel in a moderately-to-very-significant context and i was like wow. what if we did urbex in obscure underground locations... and we were both boys..................

i just think they could challenge one another and support one another in fun weird ways and also like. i think this is inherent to the fact that they are both tma characters. but i also think they would have fantastic banter together and it would be cute and this is sort of made up from whole cloth but i like the idea of theyre hanging out in a hammock on a beach and gerry is playing a guitar. SUE ME!!!

#is this utterly incoherent? yes.#tldr. i think. they would be cute. and would do adrenaline junkie shit together!!!#there's a line in a later chapter about they couldnt come to an event bc theyre skydiving somewhere #this is such nonsense but theyd be cute that's the sum of it i think #asks #fox-guardian #gerrydanny #MILK IM SORRY I SAW UR ASK WHEN I WAS ALREADY WRITING THIS ONE... ILY <3

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ya-boi-haru · 2 years

Text

You know what, you seem cool...

*dumps all of my Seduce Me Headcannons/theories*

~Contains Spoilers~

• The only reason the boys were back in the Chicago area to begin with was for Harold's funeral. They heard about it on the news and all went into shock.

• Getting their Human names went one of 4 ways: 1) They picked them themselves 2) Harold had the names on IDs ready to go, and let them pick a card - he just had to add the persons photo 3) Harold gave them the names persoanlly 4) Damien picked them all out beforehand while he was learning about the Human World

• The reason Sam didn't get to pick - or they didnt have time to do his choice - where they went on for trips was cause he kept losing at rock - paper - scissors (or coin tosses etc) so he never got to pick

• Since Sam and Damien can't read, if they were left on their own to order something they'd just point at something and hope it was good

• It took a bunch of Trial and error to learn that Matthew likes sweeter Coffee

• Damien Is Demisexual - or Graysexual, somewhere on that spectrum (im prepared to die on this hill)

• I could also see Erik being Demi

• Sam was super nervous to tell Carrie he was a Demon and was working himself up, but she already knew

• Damien can get overstimulated with sound sometimes due to his mind-reading. Even when he's human he can still get it from time to time in stressful situations.

• Damien would get frequent panic attacks and the others got really good at learning how to ground him and calm him down. When Mika gets stressed or panics about school or work stuff they use similar techniques.

• Sam does the most abbreviated texts (eg; c u 2nite) James uses proper grammar, Matthew uses Emojis and gifs, Erik knows all the flirty lingo, Damien also abbreviates but not as bad as Sam and he likes using the occasional Emoji😊☺️

• Matthew has fun ringtones while James uses default ones.

• Matthew has Sam saved as "Jackass" and Sam has Matthew saved as "Pipsqueak" (or something similar)

• Erik & Matthew are the type that get sick/pass out when their blood gets taken. Sam sometimes does too, but he will never admit it

• (In the Anderson mansion) James & Erik's rooms were neat and tidy - Erik would decorate. Damiens and Mattgews were stuffed with plushness- clean but not tidy. Sams is the messiest

• They let Matthew try an energy drink once... they never let him again.

• If nights were really bad, Damien would go stay with one of his brothers (mainly either Matthew or Sam since the older ones were always busy and they weren't allowed near) They would stay up with him and talk or try to think of other things to drown out the rest of it all. In the human world if he had a bad nightmare or anything, he'd still get up and go and talk to one of his brothers.

• (this one's based off an old video I made + I'll be using Sam for this one, cause Cannon route)

After the party the boys saw what Mikas dad was like and how tense Mika was during the event. So after the party Sam approached Mika to ask if she was okay. She thought he was talking about Malix for a moment but then he says that She was tense and acting not like herself during the party; that he knows a thing or two about a shitty dad and that he's here if she wants to talk.

• During the party the boys would give Mika small encouragements/ comfort throughout the night whenever they saw the opportunity. Matthew would come to her with extra snacks, or they would distract guests when she needed a break from questions.

• Micheala explained "Soul Marks" and I joked that they're a magic equivalent of a Hickey. So after Mika and [one of the brothers] did it - or they fed off her - they knewww and teased the brother about it.

• Erik wasn't prepared for Mika to flirt back

• The tags that Sam through away ultimately went into the Anderson Mansion. Mika found them (she was younger at this time) and gave them to Harold. They had demon magic energy on it, which Harold could sence. He dropped Mika off early to investigate it more

• One night, Sam and Mika hung out on the roof until the stars came out. Mika pointed out the constellations she knew

• James and Erik had to help the other 3 with their ties (+ the MC if they're played as male)

• Whenever the boys would pine for Mika, Damien had to sit and suffer in silence as he heard their nervous thoughts

• Since Mika was one of the boys first they probably did most of their 'exploring' with her.

• When the incubrothers learned they could never really tell her dad about what they were, they were a little upset - especially Sam. (Damien didn't have much of a problem with it since he wants to be human - and turns - anway)

• The Brothers quickly made Monopoly a forbidden game

• Damien adores his hair being played with and has fallen sleep because of it multiple times

•Matthew and Damiens hair gets frizzy/Curly in humid/rain weather

⚠️The next lot of headcannons are based on the more heavier topics of the game and involve Trigger Warnings such as abuse and assault, please proceed with caution:

• After James asked Mika how she got the bruise on her cheek and she brushed it off, no way he didn't know. James knew immediately and knew not to push further. Damien also knew - due to mind reading.

- Damien also dissociated a little after "seeing/hearing" what had happened to Mika.

• In the first flashback In the first game it notes that Damien hid behind Sam... I headcannon that Sam defended Damien from their father a lot. It would normally end in violence since Sam "defyed" his father. But he would also take blame for something that Damien did so he wouldn't get hurt getting in trouble. Sam would also beat up any imps that messed with him.

• Sometimes after being forced to mentally hear his mother and father, Damien go into sever panic attacks and didn't want to be touched and lashed out at imps that tried to 'control' him. These were the worst of them but the brothers knew how to handle it.

#seduce me the otome headcannons #can you tell Sam is my favourite?#part 2? maybe #seduce me the otome #seduce me demon war #seduce me the complete story #seduce me damien #seduce me diana #seduce me james #seduce me erik #seduce me sam #seduce me matthew

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