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sunandflame · 10 months

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Hey there :) I hope you’re having a great day :) if it’s okay please could I request a fic of muzan. Where the reader comes from a troubled family, and she’s always kind to muzan every time he comes through town and he’s very fond of her but one day when he visits he finds her on the brink of death so he turns her into a demon and she quickly becomes an upper moon. I hope this isn’t too much information 💙💙

Hi there! I actually never ever wrote something for Muzan, but I do like challenges! And there is never too much information. I hope it's the way you want it and please let me know if not, since I am always looking for a way to improve myself ❤️

Beguiling voice

Warnings: angst, violence, ra.pe attempt

Word Count: 966

Pairing: Muzan x Fem!Reader

Again you had to dry your tears and hide it behind a mask of smiles. Again you had to hide the bruises under your kimono and had to act like nothing happened. It was embarrassing and it became a habit to tug at the sleeve of your own kimono, so nobody saw the evidence of your troubled household. And yet you smiled, remained friendly, because that was your nature. You believed in the good of people even though it's been faltering lately.

You bowed to the pale man in the western suit and white fedora, gave him your friendliest smile. You often saw him here in the tea house and even if he didn't really order anything, you always tried to have a conversation with him as his voice was so beguiling to you and it was always a friendly exchange. He too seemed to be enjoying the conversations. That's how it seemed. Because if it hadn't been like that, he wouldn't be showing up again and again, right? He wasn't always there but as soon he was in the town, he made sure to visit you at least once. His soothing voice and manner were always a blessing on your battered soul and there were often times when you sought for the simplicity in your conversations. He was even in your daydreams when you tried to escape the unpleasant moments with your family. It was your escape of the reality, but the reality can hit hard.

You already had a queasy feeling since you made your way home from work. It was much later than expected and you quickly hurried to get back into your own four walls. You just wanted to be home as soon as possible, but that was denied to you.

With a jerk you were grabbed from behind and pulled into a dark alley and before you even knew what was happening to you your head banged against the wall and you lost consciousness for a moment and something wet flowed down your neck. You heard several male voices

"Fuck, she doesn't have anything valuable on her! Not even worth to rob her."

"Just leave the bitch here"

"Are you sure we shouldn't even have some fun with her? She's quite the beauty, isn't she?"

You opened your eyes in shock and began to whimper and fight. If they try something on you, they shouldn't have it easy at least. You clawed, bit and kicked around, but it only seemed to make the attackers more aggressive until eventually they got tired and just kicked you to the ground. Your consciousness wavered between fainting and trying to suppress the pain.

At some point the pain stopped and you knew that it was not only because they stopped kicking you and went away, but because you felt that you were close to death. It really was like most people said. The pain was gone for the moment and the good memories will flash in front of your eyes. Only that they weren't memories of your family, just the ones you shared with this beautiful pale stranger with the fedora.

You felt movement and someone was gently rocking you in their arms. "Drink this..." A bitter tear ran down your blemished face. You didn't want him to see you like this and yet you were overjoyed in your inner that he was the one to keep you company in your final minutes. You allowed yourself to nuzzle yourself to him or was it him who held you tighter? You couldn't tell "Y/n, drink that" This time the voice was more demanding, not allowing you to resist even as you lay dying.

With your last strength you drank what he gave you and the peaceful death you wished for was undone. Agony tortured you and you twitched in his arms, but he had been so strong that he still had no trouble holding you. Your fingers dug into his shoulder, leaving marks on his perfect jacket. You didn't know what was happening to you, but you knew there was a change and suddenly everything went black around you.

It's been some time, but it was relative for you anyway. You had become a different person. No longer a human, but you were a Demon now. And you became one of the Upper Moon Six after Gyutaro and Daki fell victim to the Demon Slayer Corps. But that wasn't the main cause. Muzan was fond of you and your strength and he regularly enriched you with his potent blood. He wanted to see you strong at his side and in his inner circle. But even so, you had shown an outstanding strength that put a smile on Muzan.

"Y/n..." His beguiling voice reached you as he brought you into the infinity castle.

"Yes, my lord..." Immediately you were on your knees to demonstrate your devotion. You didn't remember your previous life or how you came to 'death'. You knew you owed everything to him. And his voice was always something that caused a pleasant tingle in you. You knew you owed everything to him.

"Come here my beautiful." He gave you his hand and asked you to stand up. His cool hand stroked your cheek and an inner longing spread through you. If only he... You didn't finish the sentence in your head, his lips were on yours, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip while he looked down at you with his red plum eyes. "I thought I would show you how fond I am actually of you... My dear y/n" His fingers rested on your chin as he stole another kiss from you and even if it took you by surprise, you were not complaining as it was exactly what you always wished for.

#divider by firefly-graphics #sunnys work #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny fanfic #demon slayer drabble #kimetsu no yaiba drabble #kny drabble #muzan x y/n #muzan x you #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji #kibutsuji muzan #muzan kibutsuji x you #muzan kibutsuji x reader #muzan kibutsuji x y/n

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alphabetatoes · 2 months

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fantasies come true (n. kento x reader)

a.n.: hello everyone 👁️👁️ alr ✨ l i s t e n ✨ gamers, i was listening my musicals playlist on spotify and "fantasies come true" came on so i thought to myself 'hARK! what a great fic idea!' and here we are. also realized i hadn't posted anything in almost a month oops :)

feeling: evil :)

summary: you confess your love to nanami in your sleep (or do you?)

having kento nanami as a roommate seemed to only have one real drawback: your work lives were a hurdle neither one of you could quite get over. these conflicting schedules leave little overlapping breaks with your best friend. but that doesn’t mean you don’t try to carve out time for each other. one day, you’re able to leave the highschool early for what feels like the first time in forever. kento is still confined to his office, tidying up his last few pieces of business during overtime.

the two of you decided to go for a movie night, as it wasn’t too energy intensive and you’d still be able to enjoy each other's presence. kento watches as you eventually fall victim to sleep, making yourself cozy on his side. he admires your ability to find serenity, not quite ready to succumb to his own tiredness. he’d been looking forward to seeing you all day and didn’t want to waste a moment of it.

the movie progresses on; a cheesy boy-meets-girl romcom. yet the plot feels a little close to home. and kento laughs to himself as you scrunch his shirt, anchoring yourself down to reality during whatever fantastical dream you seem to be having.

you start to babble in your sleep. it’s nothing coherent, but kento finds it endearing nonetheless. “…love you, kento.”

his ears perk up in record time at the comment.

you yawn into him and repeat the sentiment once more. kento can feel the tips of his ears getting warm as you double down on your confession. he’s at a crossroads. does he acknowledge your comment? pretend like it doesn’t light a fire in his stomach, yearning to cross the line from friends to something more? kento weighs the options but settles on one. he pulls your frame closer and whispers a sweet “love you too, sweetheart.” in your ear. for now, he can revel in your confession.

for now, he can finally be content.

“ken?” you lightly poke him awake, careful not to startle him. as he comes to, kento lets out a confused “hm?” sleep stricken eyes meet you in a daze, confused by his surroundings. you give him a sweet smile, the one that always makes him melt into a million tiny pieces, and brush his hair out of his eyes.

“you practically passed out as soon as you sat down.” just as he does, the reality of kento’s situation awakens as well. “thought you were the one asleep.” “seemed like you were having a nice dream though.”

“too good to be true.” those sweet brown eyes pour into yours, hoping you might just know what it was about. but kento knows that’s not how it works. yet he takes it in stride. “so how was it? what great triumphs and tribulations did i miss?” kento sinks back into the couch. he watches as you give an animated retelling of the film plot (including voices), and a little part of his heart breaks. it’s bittersweet, but for now he would accept the platonic nature of your relationship. kento already had it in his mind that you would need to be the one to raise the topic of a more romantic dynamic. yet there was no doubt about it. he was smitten by you.

even for a moment- even if it was just a dream, he was able to have his own wishes feel like reality. and he’d wait patiently for the day you’d reciprocate. the day his fantasies come true.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #divider by firefly-graphics

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

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𝘣𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘺 𝘈𝘜 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

it's exactly what the title says; a masterlist consisting of all the stories and drabbles set in the royalty AU that includes our beloved (and sometimes very badly-behaved) general!kiba. BRAU for short.

18+ / fem!princess!reader // every work is properly tagged and includes the appropriate content warnings at the top of each post. most of it is smut!!

#biscuit's royalty au

the ask that started it all

wedding night

warming up

splish splash; i was taking a bath

taking initiative

table manners

comfort

hide and seek

#i might change the title later on but for now it's this lol #ik very original sdjkfhdsjkfh #biscuit's royalty au #kiba x reader #kiba smut #naruto smut #divider by firefly-graphics

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astroels · 11 months

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Making Ellie wear a leash, handcuffs and be on her knees while you make her eat you out because she’s been teasing you and neglecting you for a week- something like that PLEASE

mdni !!

i love ur thinking anon <3

"You're so pretty like this"

You held Ellie's face by her jaw with your non-dominant hand, as your dominant one occupied the chains that connected to the collar on her neck. Her eyes were dreamy while looking up to you between your legs, waiting for your permission to eat you out. About half your ass was sitting on the bed, just at the edge, so Ellie'd have full access soon enough. As if it couldn't get worse for her, you made sure she couldn't touch, her hands secured behind her back. She could've avoided most of this if only she hadn't teased, hadn't deprived you of what you needed most.

Every moment she touched you, but not close enough and told you how bad she wanted to fuck you, but never did, made you anticipate this very punishment further. All the ways you could make her beg and prolong the sight before you had your stomach twisting, ready for her mouth to be on you.

You watched as Ellie's eyes flickered between you and your cunt. Your previous dirty thoughts were interrupted by Ellie's whiny voice. "Can I?" You felt her growing impatient, needy. "Can you what?" You purred, tilting her face as teasement. Her eyes faltered, looking away from your intimidating gaze. "taste you." She bit her bottom lip unconsciously, waiting for your response. The only response you gave her was a hum, obviously not satisfied with her effort.

"I'll make you feel good, 'm promise, baby." She kissed the side of your knee, trying to make her way to your inner thigh. Her kisses immediately stopped at the tug she felt from her neck, instead looking at you curiously. You leaned in close to her face. "Really?" You whispered, your breath tickling her lips. "Mhm." She responded, leaning in to close the distance. But before she could, you turned your face so her lips brushed your cheeks. A sad whimper escaped from her throat in obvious disappointment.

You smiled at her eagerness, "'m just kidding, babe." You used the leash to your advantage, crashing your lips with hers. Her lips felt plush and chapped against yours. As soon she could, she slipped her tounge in, rolling it sweetly against yours. It lasted a few moments before you pulled back and stared at her messy hair, her flushed face, her pink lips that you wanted to use to get off so badly.

Ellie looked at you feverishly, and with a simple look in your eyes and a subtle nod, she was attacking your thighs in sloppy kisses. You needed her, but you enjoyed being in power more; it brought its own pleasure. Even in her vulnerable state, Ellie still teased. She made her way to the top of your inner thigh, kissing around, sucking on your skin. She left your skin wet and warm but cold when her mouth moved onto another spot. When she moved to your next thigh, she grazed her nose on your clit, just enough pressure for you to feel the pleasure. You craved the sensation of her saliva and touch else where, growing needy.

In attempt to get her on your cunt faster, you tugged her. "Hurry." You demanded promptly. She felt the tension of your demeanor and placed kisses on your pussy teasingly. It was a tease until she started working with her tounge. She used her tounge to lick your folds up and down, causing you to spread your legs further, your full cunt on display for her. Your free hand made its way to her head with your hand following her motions. She made sure to pass over your clit frequently, making the pressure feel special. With her tounge circling around your entrance, you felt your breaths hitch. It wasn't till she finally focused all her attention to your sensitive bud that you started moaning.

Ellie's attentive to what draw more noise, which motion makes you tighten your grasp on her hair. She tries out sucking it while using her tounge which earns her your breathy moans. "Oh fuck -- don't stop." You cursed softly, begging for her to continue. You could feel the way your pussy clenched for her. Ellie continued to explore the dips of your cunt and back to your clit with her mouth effortlessly. You felt the wave of pleasure peaking in your stomach as she continued. Your legs wanted to squeeze shut around her head, your eyes shut and going blurry from how fast and hard your orgasm was crashing. Even through the liquid dripping out, Ellie was quick to clean it up and continue riding out every second of your orgasm.

She cleaned you up well, drunk on your taste. Once you recovered from the lingering pleasure, you tugged her back forward. "You did so well, such a good girl." Your voice tickled her ear, making her shiver under the words. You kissed her, deepening it with intentions of making the night last longer.

#╰┈➤mich writes⭑#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #tlou 2 #ellie x reader #tlou ellie #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x you #ellie williams fic #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfic #divider by firefly-graphics

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avocado-writing · 1 year

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not your fault, but mine

tangerine x single mother!reader (with tangerine being paternal, I know y’all love that)

2.1k words

cw: kidnapping, brief child endangerment, a lot of swears for the wordcount

tag list: @honestlywtfisgoingon @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty @piechans @apieceoffabulousshit @4ng3l-0n-34rth @minjaz @starl1g4t @earth-elemental18 @luhvbot @underratedboogeyman @july-is-summer @vocalvixen20cp @northerngalxy @tangerinesgf @chaoticroaddreamerpasta @rxcently @skrrten @nightmarefeast @lost-lila @hardcore-flower @mrsdanieljackson

a/n: thank you to @lady-jane3 for being my beta! if you enjoy this fic you will probably enjoy this one by @whatstruthgottodowithit!

Tangerine has been a little bit in love with you since the two of you first met.

Sometimes it’s pertinent for handlers to be sent on missions with their agents in the field. Insider intel and all that jazz, overseeing what’s going on. When he saw you in the hotel lobby waiting for him and his brother he was smitten with the smart black dress and look of professional interest you wore; but he was fucked when he heard you laugh at one of his jokes.

It was enchanting. You were enchanting.

You wriggled your way into his affections without even meaning to. You worked well with them both, and you were easy on the eyes and on the soul. Strong and capable in your own right, too. The job was easy because you were there; and when you all went out to celebrate that night it didn’t hurt that you were so receptive to Tangerine’s advances you’d ended up shagging him by the recycling bins round the back of the pub.

The fact that you’d exchanged private numbers afterwards was a welcome surprise though. Tangerine isn’t usually the sort of bloke people are interested in having a long term relationship with, so he’d expected it to be a one-and-done sort of night. But then there you were the next week, getting coffee back in London. Like the two of you were civilised people, not involved in the business of murder for hire.

It became a weekly thing. No more fucking, not yet anyway; just sitting there and chatting. He found himself looking forward to it each Friday. Seeing your smile, hearing your laugh again. It was a few macchiatos later you dropped the bomb.

“If this is going to be a thing, you’d better know I have a daughter.”

He peered at you from over the ceramic rim of his coffee cup.

“Right.”

“If it’s a problem, we call it here. She’s the most important thing to me. I like you a lot, Tangerine, but if a single parent is too much for you to handle I need to know now. So you don’t break my heart.”

You were upfront about it and he respected that. Maybe if you were anyone else he’d turn tail and run at that announcement.

But you weren’t anyone else. You were you. Gorgeous, wonderful you.

“That’s alright with me.”

The grin you gave him made him know he’d made the right choice.

Then the moment he’d been bricking it over came. After a few evening dates and a couple of dalliances with you in local hotels, he was introduced to your daughter. She was a shy, quiet girl of six, who hid behind you and peeked out at him from the safety of her mum as a shield.

“This is my friend Tangerine, love. Are you going to say hello?”

When she shook her head and hid her face in your shirt, Tangerine knew he was in for an uphill battle. But he’d fight it, for you.

It was like trying to dig a tunnel through an iceberg with a spoon. The process was long and tiring. But he always made sure to be thankful whenever he was invited along to one of your days out with your daughter, to be given a chance to be part of the family.

Your daughter is cautious. It sounds like you had a nasty breakup with her dad, and you never discuss it much - but your little one has trouble trusting new men because of it, it seems. But as the ice starts to melt around her he finds himself loving her as much as he loves you.

He knows he can’t buy someone’s affections. But when he shells out an eye-watering amount for a stuffed dinosaur at the Natural History Museum and your daughter beams at him, he thinks it might be alright to cheat a bit.

She might be quiet, but she’s concise when she speaks; pithy and never using more words than she needs to. Still she has that same intensity many young children do. She reminds him of Lemon, actually, back when they were kids: sincere to a fault, but affectionate in her own way.

When she first held his hand in a crowd out in public, Tangerine grinned harder than when he heard West Ham got into the FA Cup final (didn’t win though, did they? Fucking Liverpool). Maybe he didn’t sign on to have a kid in his life, but he can’t help but feel incredibly lucky it ended up happening. And sitting with you cozied up on one side of him and your daughter falling asleep on his arm on the other, he’s even more surprised that he’s genuinely happy.

He heads to your house with a bouquet of flowers for you and a toy in garish packaging for your daughter. Oh, he’s going to earn points for this one - she never asked for it outright, but he’s seen the way she lights up whenever the advert comes on the telly. He’s not Lemon, but he’s still smart enough to pick up on these things.

And you’ll be pleased she’s happy, of course. And when you’re pleased it usually leads to him being pleased later that night.

But the blood in Tangerine’s veins freezes when he sees your door is ajar. You don’t leave it open, ever, and he can hear his heartbeat thunder when he nudges it and sees broken glass behind.

He drops the toy, and the flowers burst into petals on the concrete as he runs inside.

It’s a mess. The coffee table is shattered, furniture has been overturned - and, fuck, there’s blood on the carpet. Signs of a struggle.

He shouts for you at the top of his lungs, for your daughter, sweeping the house and checking anywhere someone could be hiding. He comes up empty. Fuck. Fuck! How could he let this happen?

Dazed, he heads into your bedroom. Sits on the bed. Fishes his phone out of his pocket, numbly taps your number to dial it.

He doesn’t hear your phone go in the house. It rings off to voicemail.

Right. Okay. Right. You must have it with you. That’s something.

Adrenaline surging through his body, he checks to see if your location is turned on. It is. Whatever happened, you made sure to know you could be found.

He stands up, clenches his fist so hard his knuckles turn white, and starts to call Lemon as he leaves.

You wake up to the taste of metal in your mouth. Christ, your head hurts. It’s a sharp ache that reverberates around your skull. Something sticky is running down from your forehead and has gummed your left eye shut, but you look around with your right the best that you can.

Some sort of warehouse. Of course. How original. Things begin to come back to you: the men smashing your door in, the couple you managed to deal with before you were overwhelmed. Your hand still hurts from the punch you delivered to someone’s nose, and you remember the satisfying crunch it made. Oh, god - and your daughter trying to run away but getting caught -

You call her name and you feel a shuffling against your back; you try to move before you realise you’ve been restrained. Hands bound behind you, ankles tied to chair legs. With a groan you crane your neck as far as it will go to take a look.

Your daughter comes to, groggy. You can just about make out her familiar shape in your periphery. If they’ve harmed a single hair on her head, you’re going to set this fucking building alight with every cunt who did this still inside.

“Love?”

She lets out a little sob of terror.

“Mum, what happened?”

“I’m not sure, sweetheart. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

She takes a moment to answer, her voice shaking.

“I’m… I’m okay, I think.”

You hope she’s telling the truth, and not just lying to seem brave for you. It’s not like you can turn around and check, is it?

Alright, one thing at a time. You test the restraints. No luck, shit. They’re done tight. With multiple zip ties it feels like. It’s a chore to steady your breathing but you manage to do it, and talk yourself through what you remember.

They burst in, attacked you mostly in silence, but they were talking as they choked you out - about what? Focus, focus.

Oh, fuck. A sentence comes back to you.

‘Let’s see how he likes it when he finds out we have his bird.’

Tangerine. This is all about Tangerine.

You hold back stupid tears. Crying isn’t going to solve anything, is it? But you want to, though. You want to cry over being weak enough to get fucking kidnapped, at being enough of a vulnerability to Tangerine that they’d take you to hurt him, that you got your daughter mixed up in all of this.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The door at the end of the warehouse space swings open. A man crosses over, a balaclava obscuring his face. Despite it all you can’t help but let out a little laugh - how fucking old school, you half expect him to whip out an Anonymous mask.

“Not sure what you’re having a giggle at, love. Seems to me there’s not anything funny about the situation you’re in.”

“Oh, what do you fucking want?” you snap, squaring up the best you can under the circumstances. Keep a brave face for her. The man rolls his eyes.

“Well, darling, a very nasty man likes to get his end away with you. So we figured you’d be a useful bargaining chip when dealing with him. See, he’s pissed off the wrong person, and they’re interested in making sure he pays dearly for it. And the fact you arrange his little missions means this is a two-for-the-price-of-one deal.”

Your daughter whimpers. You bare your teeth at him.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do for me, but let her go. She didn’t do anything, she’s a child.”

The man rolls his eyes.

“What, so she can go running straight to him to tell him where you are? Don’t think so, sweetheart. No, much better to make sure she’s here. Safe. With us.”

He grins and it makes you feel sick. You open your mouth to lay into him, but a beeping from the walkie-talkie at his belt stops you. He grabs it and turns his back to you.

“What?”

There’s the unmistakable sound of gunfire on the other end.

“Oh, fuck, they’re -” is as far as the speaker gets, before he’s cut off with a bloody gargle. The man freezes for a moment, but he’s been distracted long enough - you’ve managed to wiggle one foot free from your restraints and you bring it up as hard as you can between his legs. The man screeches in agony and drops to the floor.

You call for your daughter and tell her to work on her bindings. You feel her struggle behind you. She’s small, maybe she’ll be nimble enough to get free…

The man gets back up all too quickly.

“You bitch,” he spits, and pulls out a knife from around his back. You feel the blood leave you.

Please don’t kill me in front of my daughter.

Any further action he was going to take, however, is somewhat interrupted by the fact a quarter of his head explodes all over you as a bullet flies through it. He looks shocked for a moment before collapsing for the last time.

They’re here. Tangerine and Lemon are dishevelled, covered in blood, and looking worse for wear - but they’re here. Tangerine lowers his gun and runs over to you, dropping to his knees to check you over.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, get her!” you say, motioning back towards your daughter. Tangerine doesn’t need telling twice. He picks up the abandoned knife and starts working on freeing the little girl behind you, as Lemon finishes closing the distance to help you.

You hear your daughter sob in relief and see Tangerine stagger back as she launches herself into his arms.

“Dad!” she cries, burying her little face in his neck. Tangerine doesn’t have an answer to that. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him properly dumbstruck: standing there, covered in blood and holding your child with wide eyes.

“That’s a lot to unpack,” Lemon mutters with a smile as he finishes letting you go. You stand up and give him a tight hug.

“Am I glad to see your ugly mugs,” you sigh.

“Oi, easy! If you want to keep kissing this ugly mug,” Tangerine says, and it makes your daughter giggle even if she doesn’t loosen her grip.

A bubble of laughter escapes from your lips. Pure relief. Oh, fuck, this could have been bad. It wasn’t though.

Not when you’ve got your boys around to watch your back.

#tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #yes its a mumfield and sons lyric and uhhhh i will NOT be taking my music taste into question thank you xoxox #divider by firefly-graphics

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spidervee · 1 year

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hi friend (can I call you that i’m sort i’m horrible with talking to people) i had an idea for your requests for our very own hangman! i was thinking it could be jake loving women who are mean to him 😂 and in this case the only thing I could think about was jake going to a school when he goes with javy to pick up his niece and for when he sees navy’s niece’s teacher, jake openly flirting with her and she just shuts him down and he falls in love with her

- @jake-seresin

uhm yes absolutely we are friends! besties, loves, amores, peas in a cute lil pod! 🌻💛 for you, @jake-seresin and of course, I’d be remiss not to mention that my absolute favourite Jake x reader who is a little bit mean to him writers @withahappyrefrain and @tongue-like-a-razor who absolutely crush this trope

I adore the idea of Jake being with a snarky reader and he’d totally become smitten with an elementary school teacher who has paint in her hair and she’s wearing pyjamas on the day that Jake shows up because it’s pyjama day of course, but they’re the ones with the unicorns on them that she bought specifically for school days like this and maybe a little bit of her snark is mortification that a living Ken doll who looks way too good in service khakis is outside her classroom

Javy’s niece calls him Uncle Jake because he’s practically family and Javy always calls Jake his brother anyways. Javy is fake insulted when his niece (Theresa, but Tessie for short) runs straight to Jake. You and Javy share a laugh about it but when you turn away to chat with another pair of moms picking up their son, you completely miss the silent conversation Jake and Javy have with their eyes and some pointed facial expressions

Mostly Jake raising his eyebrows to ask what your situation is and Javy shaking his head as in “don’t you dare, man” and Jake scrunching up his face like “why not? and why didn’t you say she was so cute?” and Javy giving him the “so help me, Jake” look

But then you’re turning back around and their faces go slack and Javy is saying goodbye and Tessie is running back for one last hug and then “C’mon Uncle Jake, can you come over to watch tv?”

Javy’s like “Yeah, c’mon Uncle Jake.”

Jake nods, but there’s no other parents in the room and only a few kids so why not shoot his shot? He lingers as Javy and Tessie start walking out of the room, but just as he opens his mouth, you hold up your hand and shake your head. Quietly, you tell him that you don’t date students’ family members.

Jake grins and is all like “I just wanted to compliment your outfit, Teach.”

And you’re furious but also furiously warm inside and you scowl at him, but it’s adorable because there’s a little blue paint smeared under your chin and Jake has to resist the urge to brush his thumb against your skin to swipe at it.

“It’s not my normal choice,” you defend yourself. And Jake’s grin only grows, damn him and his stupidly perfect smile.

“I’d like to see you in something else,” he mutters, the innuendo obvious but not lewd. You roll your eyes. “Charming,” you reply. “But I already…”

Jake interrupts—the asshat. “That rule can’t apply to handsome family friends.”

“Oh, especially to them. But in that case, I guess I could let you take me out to dinner.”

Jake is so smug at having secured a date that it takes him a solid ten seconds to realize you just insulted him and he thinks he might be in love.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #divider by firefly-graphics

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seaside-lovers · 3 months

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Hi all. I'm Kate and I'm looking for more ficto/self ship mutuals.

My lovely partners are Jotaro from JJBA (pictured above) and Hank from Madness Combat. I am not comfortable sharing them at all. My F/Os can be seen at this link; I don't mind sharing but I would rather not discuss the fact that we share an F/O(s).

Outside of self shipping, I really love animals (especially birds!!), reading, and Madness Combat. You can see my non-self ship sideblog here: @valentine-madness.

No proship or romantic Jotaro/Hank doubles.

#self ship promo #ficto promo #self ship community #self shipper #self ship #divider by firefly-graphics

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mandosaur · 1 year

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Dance of the Mythosaur and Dragon (0/?)

Fandom: The Mandalorian, House of the Dragon

Pairing: Din Djarin/OC

Summary: In an effort to gain powerful allies in the upcoming civil war, the Blacks decide to seek out the cosmos and wed their princess to a distant planet renown for its warriors. Princess Daenys Targaryen II is wed off Mandalore’s new Mand’alor Din Djarin for her dragon blood and dragon in exchange for their aid in the upcoming war.

Warning: Allusions to incest.

Word Count: 1,476 Words

Estimated Reading Time: 5:22

Chapter: Prologue

(A/N: Finally, here is the idea of a cross over between House of the Dragon and the Mandalorian which I’ve been flirting with since October of last year!

This is being cross posted to AO3)

The letter had been sent many moons ago. It had left in a small, concealed ship bound for the stars in its maiden voyage. Daemon Targaryen had personally signed it himself and stamped it with the Targaryen crest.

Now, more time later, a response has arrived with a new transport.

The paper is written in a set of letters he did not recognize, but an enclosed sheet of paper provides a key for translating it into Common. However, even without deciphering each letter, he knows what the message says.

They have accepted his proposal. He has provided them an offer no one could refuse. Access to an ancient bloodline, the beasts of old they alone controlled, and a beautiful bride who could provide them many heirs…

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth to give access to what was so closely guarded in Westeros to a foreign planet, but he knows it is necessary. War looms in the distance. He can almost hear the roars of dragons as they dance in the skies, see fires envelop every corner of the Red Keep, and taste the acrid tang of blood in the air already. Everyone knows a war is brewing.

His letter across the galaxy had been a strategic move. It was not uncommon for families to wed off their daughters in search of fighters and supplies. His own Bronze Bitch had been promised to him for politics. His niece would not be the first Targaryen to marry a foreigner for her homeland and certainly not the last.

Taking a seat at his desk, he begins to pen another letter in response in the common tongue. He refuses to use the bizarre symbols on the page given to him. He will not give the galaxy anymore than what he has already sacrificed in search of his soon to be wife’s throne. Let the galaxy have their blood and their dragons, he thinks, but he will not concede any more than is necessary.

It takes him more than he likes to finish the letter. Diplomacy isn’t his strong suit, always preferring to use blades and dragon fire in place of words and formality, but he manages fine. The letter is brief and to the point. A simple review of what they have already agreed on.

His nice and sister in law, Daenys Targaryen II shall wed the new Mand’alor to unify Westeros and Mandalore in a treaty. Through her, Mandalore will gain access to Targaryen blood, descended from the very dragons they keep, and Daenys’ own dragon, the Cannibal. In exchange, Mandalore shall provide aid in the civil war which will surely be descending upon the shores of Westeros soon.

He stares at the words across the paper before signing his name across the parchment. Another strike of his wrist forges the signature of Viserys on the page. As King, it is his word alone that can wed off his daughter, but the King is back at the palace and will not hear of their plans until after a ship has departed for the cosmos. Daemon has always preferred to seek forgiveness rather than permission.

Sealing the letter with wax, he presses the royal signet into the stamp and calls for a servant. There is another secret ship which will depart for the galaxy at night. It will leave hidden from prying eyes and will not stop until it arrives in Mandalore.

As soon as the servant disappears with the envelope, he stands from his chair and stares across the window. The stars wink in the distance almost as if waiting. Waiting for Westeros to join their star wars and cosmic games.

With a grit of his teeth, he turns around.

He hates it, he decides, hates the world past the edges of what the Targaryen dynasty controls. If it were up to him, he’d marry his niece to another Westerosi house and let his planet stand alone free from the burden of others, but he has no choice. A war will come eventually and he intends to make as many powerful allies as he can before it begins.

Thus, with a resigned press of his lips, he stalks off from his office in search of another servant. He must pen another letter to the Red Keep. It is time his niece departs for Pentos.

———————————————

Somewhere across the galaxy, Din clenches his jaw underneath his helmet. The letter from a planet he had never heard of rests in Bo Katan’s hand. It feels like a death sentence has descended upon his shoulders.

Bo Katan paces the length of the council room as she reads the letter out loud. She has painfully translated every letter in their bizarre tongue into Aurebesh. The paper is full of her small translations in the margins. Every so often, she has to pause her reading to squint at a new sentence with tired eyes.

By the time she finishes, the rest of the council is divided.

Half of the Mandalorians from Bo’s faction are in agreement. It was their idea to wed their Mand’alor off. They had sent out missives searching for Din’s future wife without Din’s consent. It was high time, they claimed, he settle down and strengthen his claim to his throne through the marriage of another royal family.

The other half of the Mandalorians are from his covert. They are a group used to isolation and hiding. The idea of letting yet another outsider in is met with hesitation and the shaking of heads. They are opposed to the marriage.

Din echoes them. When he agreed to take the Darksaber and assume the mantle of Mand’alor, he knew there would come a time where what was left of his freedom was stripped away from him. Bo Katan had told him an arranged marriage would one day be decided for him, so he knew the day would one day come. He just hadn’t realized it would be so soon.

He knows nothing of this new planet other than the fact that it’s primitive. They don’t engage in trade with other planets preferring to stay within their own lands. Its people rely on archaic methods of medicine, shun others with a different world view, and likely know nothing about the galaxy past what their eyes can see in their night sky. He doubts those outside the royal family even know life outside of their planet exists.

He also knows even less of his new wife. She’s a Princess second born. Her older sister is heir to the throne, which has caused quite a stir in their patriarchal society, and is much younger than him. The paintings her planet has provided, yes paintings because the basted planet hasn’t discovered the art of electricity yet, show a beautiful girl with Targaryen features and a dragon that extends past the limits of the canvas in the background.

But that is all he knows. He has not been provided more than that. He rolls his eyes and is thankful his helmet hides his face from view.

He has no interest in marrying a spoiled royal brat from another planet even if Mandalore wants her giant lizard. He has already vehemently denied the marriage contract and been outvoted by his council. He curses the blasted day the first letter arrived to their planet with an offer he would have loved to refuse.

Still, the sword at his hip is not a crown. His leadership is reliant on the words of his council and the choices of the other Mandalorians. He accepted the title of Mand’alor when his covert demanded he represent them in their former planet’s affairs and promised he would keep the throne for them. He also took an oath in the living waters when he became Mand’alor that he would obey the creed and place the planet over his own wants and needs. Thus, as much as it burns him to go through with a farce, he can do nothing more than agree.

The paper is passed to him after more debates and arguments. The council is still undecided, but their battles are merely for show. Everyone knows the marriage treaty has already been agreed to.

Din picks up the pen offered to him by another Mandalorian and hesitates. The paper in front of him is a mess of the bizarre writings of Westeros and Bo’s own Aurebesh scrawl.

Wishing he could go back to the moment before he took the damn blade from Gideon and became Mand’alor, he resigns himself to his fate.

Slowly, he signs his name on the dotted line at the bottom of the parchment. The room falls silent.

Let the songs be written, he thinks bitterly to himself, that he, Mand’alor Din Djarin of the Mudhorn Clan, has just agreed to marry Princess Daenys II Targaryen of Westeros.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #house of the dragon #star wars #din djarin x original character #din djarin x reader #divider by firefly-graphics

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milky-aeons · 2 months

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𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋

౨ৎ . . . in which a demon realises he can, in fact, love after all.

warnings: female reader, ballerina!reader, pregnancy, childhood, estranged/separated parents, w.c 1.4k

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who was granted the alias demon from his enemies. A man capable of staring death directly in the eye and laughing, inviting him for a cordial game of chess. Such a monster had no plans to procreate. It was a miscalculation — that night he had spent with one of the ballet dancers from the Bolshoi Theatre when he was barely but a man. Even at eighteen, Fyodor Dostoevsky knew he was a heavenly messenger sent to carry out God's will. What was a little fun to be had before he did?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, three years later, halfway across the sea in a foreign country standing at the Yokohama Portside. In his gloved hands was a page, a single page, worn from weathering the onslaught of its travel to him. His eyes had already scanned the Russian cursive once, twice, a hundred times over. There were very few things that left the Demon Fyodor speechless in this world. But those words, those four little words;

𝐹𝓎𝑜𝒹𝑜𝓇, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝑜𝓃. 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝐼 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓀𝑒𝓅𝓉 𝒾𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who was initially going to write this surprise off as just that — a surprise. A miscalculation. For they were always probable in every endeavour; were what made the grand game so very fun, indeed. He had much larger ambitions to conquer. So it was a shock, when the lead members of the Decay of Angels could not locate him at their hideout the very next day. He had said he would be there. Instead, there was a note speared into the concrete wall in his stead — one that announced his impromptu travels to Russia, with no date of when he would return.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who didn't really expect anything from this world so foul and dull. To carry out God's will meant removing oneself from their species, casting your emotions aside, your humanity. And yet, as he approached the same ballet house he had met you in three years into the past, his breath was coming out a little quicker. Impatient, expectant? He was not attached to anyone — he couldn't be. But to have a son, to be a father?

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who looked just as beautiful as the first night he had met you. Your eyes were no longer haunted with the pressures of other's expectations. Now, they were clear. And there were also two identical pairs of them. Fyodor stared at the little creature who blinked owlishly up at him from where he sat on the floor — his hands balled around a stuffed animal, chewing at its' ear. This thing; it had the same jet-black hair as his in wild little tufts about his crown. He had Fyodor's eyebrows, the almond shape of his eyes. He took one look at the child that was meant to be his and felt something shift inside him, and also, something break.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who was nervous but apprehensive to allow your son near the man who stole your heart so easily in the past. The streets didn't lie — you had heard about his criminal activities, even this far into the continent, people spoke of his name in rushed, fearful whispers — as if the walls were his messengers. But every time you looked at your son, you were reminded of him. And staring at him now, the resemblance was uncanny. Your boy continued to gawp at his father with wonder, with not so much as a shred of fear for this so called Demon.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who took some time to hold his son in his arms. To hold him meant to accept this truth, to feel his warm little body and know that indeed, he had a son. And the first time, it was by complete accident. The little boy had an awful penitence for mischief, just like his father. In one moment, Fyodor had noticed him wobbling on the top of a rickety set of bookshelves. In the next, there was a snap, a cry, and his entire body had moved by itself. He caught the small bundle in his outstretched arms. To thank him, the boy reached up to tug on one of his long hairs.

"Such a little trouble riser, you are." He had scorned, but the corners of his lips had curved into a smile.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who watched a change in Fyodor Dostoevsky over the next coming weeks. He became softer around the edges. He stuck around. His eyes weren't as impenetrable and distant. You would wake up at sunrise with the intent to prepare some breakfast for your little boy, only to find him already there, sitting cross-legged with his son in the living room and sharing some roughly cut apple. Or during the night when you must put him down for bed — Fyodor was already there, capable of telling when exactly his son wished for sleep. Sometimes, you'd hang around the doorframe and watch as he placed the boy into his bed. So gently, so unlike him, as if he knew he held the entire world in his hands.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who entertained his son through slight-of-hand. Whether it be by hiding small candies underneath three cups and shuffling them around, pulling a coin from behind his ear, making his favourite stuffed animal disappear only to reappear on his bed right before sleep. There was a certain unique reaction he'd get from the boy — like he was always seeing the same tricks for the very first time. Fyodor did not feel amused, nor did he feel typical paternal love, but he did wait for the day where his son grew older so he could teach him all his little tricks, too.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who chose an isolated canopy in the ballet house to play a long-forgotten cello — perhaps once belonging to a choir that performed here. He'd glide the bow across its strings, producing a melancholy tune. But then, the door would creak open, and in the little creature would crawl. Fyodor would stop playing when he noticed his sudden audience — eyes similar to his staring up at him in wonder. And, completely unbidden, Fyodor found himself composing a different piece. Lighter, chipper beats that took inspiration from my little sunshine. His son would laugh and clap his hands, singing his own song in broken words and sounds. Fyodor would reply;

"My, it shall not be long before you're up on the stage, too. Right beside your mother."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who invited Fyodor on a walk with just the three of you. Your son in the middle, you and your parted lover on either side. It had snowed that day in Russia — and your son took great delight in stomping big, messy holes wherever he walked.

"Won't you stay?"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who hadn't meant to say those words. You knew, deep down you knew this man could never be the father you wanted him to be. You stood on two different planes of the universe; orbiting this little boy that kept you both still connected. But you had seen something in him these past few weeks. Perhaps it was just a fabrication of your own desires. But for those few little days, Fyodor Dostoevsky had come back to you, he had been a constant, he had been a father.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who didn't say anything right away when you spoke those words tinged with such hope. He kept his eyes distant towards the snowfall. His attention, however, could not be distracted for long. There was a tugging at his long coat's edge, a face smaller than his own but no less similar peering up at him.

"Stay, Dada," The little boy said. "Stay and play in snow!"

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who's lips softened into a small little smile. He couldn't stay, not yet. But maybe one day he could have this. When his work was done, when he could finally turn away from the weight on his shoulders of such humanly sin. The Demon, however, was reminded that in moments such as these, humanity could also be quite beautiful.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑, who bent down to pick his son up under the arms and hoisted him into the air. The child shrieked in glee, and Fyodor said;

"I'm afraid I can't stay to play in the snow this time. But one day, I will. I'll come back to you and watch how you've learned to fly, moy malenki angel."

➸ мой маленький ангел/moy malenki angel : Russian, to mean 'my little angel'.

✎ . . . requested by lovely nonnie!

WRITING REQUESTS

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bsd fanfiction #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor bsd #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #🎋 — writing requests #dividers by firefly graphics!!

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kakujis · 5 months

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✧ 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍. ✧

synopsis: the sano royal family is almighty, all-powerful, unrelenting. royalty must be, it comes with the territory. you must consume to survive. and what are you but a lowly maid within their palace walls?

i. serenato - prince kakucho’s been gone for months without a single letter back home, you wonder if he’s even coming back.

ii. oblivious - prince mikey can’t help but feel that something’s wrong with his closest friends, especially baji, head of the royal guard.

iii. fairytale - an arranged marriage won’t stop prince izana from reaching his dream.

iv. aria - when shinichiro becomes king, the two of you come to terms with the death of your forever.

✩ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐍. ✩

synopsis: these stories focus on non-prince members, such as the royal guard. (more info soon!)

i. sandpiper - baji used to be the head of the royal guard, and your mind always wonders why he defected to valhalla, leaving you behind.

ii. snow falling - if there is solace in one thing, it's your moonlit meetings with chifuyu.

iii. story loading...

iv. story loading...

NOTES: hi! this is an au i've had in the back of my brain for a while, and i sort of delved into it last year when i wrote a couple of those prince!headcanons and that one izana scenario. each story will come with a link to the kalafina song that inspired them! ♡ the y/n in each story is a separate character, but there will be no names and will stay x reader. each story will come with their individual warnings, make sure to read them. some will be sfw and some will be nsfw. please keep in mind, everything here is subject to change and stories will be uploaded sporadically. also, i'll try my best to write them in order, but we'll see! also, if there's enough interest i'll open a taglist. ♡

ETA: i will ask if you are a minor/ageless blog to please refrain from interacting with the nsfw stories, there will be a few.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #tokrev fluff #royal au #tokrev #kakucho x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #manjiro sano x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #baji keisuke x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #tr prince miniseries #dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics #pibby writing

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sunandflame · 10 months

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Hi :) I’m sorry but my request isn’t there so it may have not sent properly. Please could I request headcanons of the hashira reacting to their crush being very kind and loving to their sibling/siblings :)

Aaah yes! This is such a cute request and I loved doing that! Please forgive me if it took longer than you expected. I hope it is to your liking and if not please let me know through an anon ask.❤️

Hashira's reacting to their crush being kind to their sibling(s)

Warnings: maybe a super tiny nsfwish? mention of trauma and abuse in the past

Word Count: 955

Pairing: Hashira's x Fem!Reader

crossposted on AO3

Kyojuro Rengoku

Listen to me. This man would blush. And you know why? Because of his crush he got on you.

And now he sees how kind and loving you act towards Senjuro?

This of course leaves him with the question of whether you are so loving with small babies.

Of course you would, what a stupid question from him.

But now he just can't stop imagining you with a baby. A baby from you two, because this man definitely wants children later.

He later needed a cold shower to calm his flushing down, since he recalled how babies were made. 😉

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He would watch you silently and while he does an inner image would appear in front of him.

That of his mother's.

And that would confuse the Wind Hashira very much.

Especially when he sees how warm and kind you act towards Genya and other younger people?

He can't stop thinking that Sumi, Hiroshi, Teiko, Koto, Shuya and Sanehiro would adore you.

And that brings a comforting inner warmth that he had always felt towards his mother back then.

You remind him so much of his mother that he got flashbacks of how she protected her children from their brutal father like a lioness.

That spoiled his mood in the usual way and the gentle smile that briefly reflected on his lips disappeared.

He swore to protect you from everything and everyone, because such a kind soul had to survive in this world and not the murderous scum that he saw in himself.

Giyuu Tomioka

He too would be very subtle in his observation.

You probably wouldn't even know that he saw you.

But he did. And it had definitely triggered something in him.

And it was rare smile, but he kept turning away so quickly so that nobody would be able to see it.

The first time he wants to start a conversation with someone. And then with you of all people.

But he is so awkward and shy in it because he had never done anything like that, especially not with someone who he has a crush on. So double awkwardness.

So he keeps watching you, this time a little more obviously, hoping that you might start a conversation with him.

And while he was watching you a soft smile would play on his lips and this time he wouldn't turn away and look directly at you.

Tengen Uzui

The man had 9 siblings and they all died before he was 15

Then seeing you treating a younger one with kindness and love he wished he had felt when he was younger?

Yeah, this man is gonna come to you and lay the world at your feet together with his 3 wives.

But firstly, he would come alone, take your hand and gently kiss your knuckles.

"Be my 4th wife and have my babies. I know you would be a great mother!"

Mitsuri Kanroji

Our beloved love Hashira

She would probably hear it first from her siblings, before seeing it herself.

"Mitsuri neechaaan! Can we (y/n) see again? She was so nice and kind to us! She even brought us sweets!"

Those would be the words of her little siblings as they are all stand very close to each other.

This made her curious.

And if she then sees with her own eyes?

She would squeal in happiness, seeing how loving you are to them.

And would come up to you and hug you. Her breasts press against your shoulder. "Y/n you are so adorable!"

This time it's you who's blushing.

Obanai Iguro

He and Kaguramaru would watch you from afar.

The man didn't have a good experience with women as they were all terrible to him.

But you? You were the opposite and showed him with your gesture that there was also kindness in this world.

And that was one of the reasons why he had a huge crush on you.

And your gesture would make him fall even more for you.

He would sneak gifts to you.

(I am sorry. I feel like I am describing Obanai x Mitsuri as I always see them as canon and his type.)

Gyomei Himejima

He is already a big soft teddy bear

So expect it to grow into an even bigger one.

The first time he noticed tha, he wouldn't think anything of it.

But he sees that it's your nature and that you do it not for yourself.

And he would be touched by your kindness that he would shed tears (as he often does)

Gyomei eventually coming to you and while he towers over you with his height (man is huge) he would ask you.

"Do you want to talk about cats?"

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu witnessed your kindness towards the younger ones in the butterfly mansion.

And she thinks you are downright adorable.

And she wants to tease you about that.

Which she will certainly do. (Nothing is going to stop her anyway) And oh she loves to tease you.

But on the other hand she will praise you. Telling you how admirable your kindness and love is.

"This reminds me of someone..." And for the first time her smile turned sad.

You could help but hug her and comfort her, as you did with the younglings.

Muichiro Tokito

Empty eyes would clear at that moment and would look at you in surprise.

It is not about how you look, but the way you treat other the younger ones. It would bring back certain memory he thought it was long gone.

He would look at you with wide big eyes.

"Y/n..." That he remembered your name would make you turn in surprise, but there would be a smile. "Yes, what is it Tokito-san?"

And then he would remember and he would hold your hand and smile. "Your kindness... It made me remember something very dearly to me. Of my father and mother... Thank you so much for that"

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prophecyprompts · 5 months

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#PHYSICAL. for when muses need some extra support & self-esteem lifts. all terms are gender-neutral.

hi, pretty.

good morning, handsome.

well, aren't you a beauty?

your eyes are so lovely…

i wish you could see what i see.

please smile more, it's beautiful.

you're pretty even when you cry.

you are the most attractive person in this room. maybe this building. maybe this area, actually.

your body is beautiful because it's yours. don't forget that.

may i touch you? i want to see if you're truly real.

you look like a dream.

my pretty girl / boy / (muse's name).

your hands are nice… n-not like that! i mean, uh..

you don't need makeup or fancy jewelry or fancy clothes. you're perfect, okay?

#this was requested so i hope it's okay <33 #divider by firefly graphics!#rp memes #sentence starters #rp meme #NON-POETRY.

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faetreides · 3 months

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RASPBERRY - CORIOLANUS SNOW

summary: the apparent end of an era

cw: implication of infant death, canon typical violence and canon major character death (if that’s how you read it), unnecessary oc children (mention of pregnancy), reader’s in lucy grays place (chosen to be in the games and etc. not as a substitute for coryo) but if she went back to capitol with him, old man snow loses his marbles, open to interpretation ending, canon typical district citizens slander (and katniss slander but it’s snow’s pov), og timeline reader in this story died in between thg and catching fire, treating this as dark content due to vagueness regarding how willing the reader is

wc: 1.3k

requests are open (read the rules first <3)

block & move on if uncomfortable

do not repost or translate!!

“Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me.”

- Work Song // Hozier

Caecilia Snow can hardly stomach what she is about to witness. Her oldest sister, Iovita, stands stoned faced behind her. One of her svelte hands clasped around her left shoulder. A mask, she’s sure. Vita always did have troubles with expressing her emotions. The middle sister, Agrippina, is a complicated mix of both. Her hand is warmer on Caecilia’s right shoulder, but the blisters make it uncomfortable. Cato, the steadfast and tough oldest son, does not look at all. One can only wonder how he felt about that tribute from two, poor souls. Little Ignacius (she will always see him as such even though he's grown a head taller than her) brow is furrowed so terribly, she fears it might get stuck.

And strange Silvanus, the second son, he isn’t even on the balcony with his beloved siblings. Perhaps he is lost in his thoughts again. He wonders now if when his father smells the wood of the gallows, he thinks of a forest out in twelve that he haunted decades ago. The handkercheif he uses to hastily wipe his tears before he can gather the courage to join his family possess drops of blood every time he pulls it away. From his nose or drug up from his lungs, who can say? The wall outside the library his father had made especially for their mother on their wedding anniversary takes several blows from his aching clenched fist. So much blood, like father like son. Silvanus feels comforted by the persistent thought.

Ignacius eyes his brother with open concern as he saunters into view beside him. He barely manages to hide his wobble and his rush to stuff a stained cloth into his pocket does nothing to ease Ignacius’s worries. Silvanus has been one of the more sensitive ones in their parade, though that has never meant that he has not fought for his family. It is because of that that when Silvanus relents to the beseeching stare of his younger brother, Ignacius nods with utmost determination. The second son softens minutely and eventually returns it.

“Snow lands on top.” Six voices whisper in chorus.

Somewhere in an alabaster mausoleum, resides an ornate urn containing what would have been a seventh voice.

At the end of it all, President Coriolanus Snow smiles and he laughs with his entire chest like you’ve told him your funniest joke. Blood pours from his mouth like hot wax. His forked tongue doggy paddles in the little sea of crimson. A weathered hand with hard to spot cracks in the skin and light purple spots clasps itself firmly around the rose pinned to his suit. The wind seems to circle around Coriolanus Snow and he heaves a hearty chuckle when it ruffles through his hair. You’re with him even now as the foundations of your dynasty crumble and scatter over a stormy cliffside. A most welcomed and yearned for torment. His dearest specter.

Finally.

It seems even a Mockingjay’s tiny brain can manage.

It brings to mind the memory of another unfortunate like her. An Angel of Death from 11, tall and hunkered over. A flag being ripped from its rightful place and being pulled over rotting corpses. They were laid so closely together, they might as well have been a pack of sardines. There was ample meaning in his rustic burial, and there were snakes that suffocated it in their multicolored den. A precious rainbow after a great flood.

He’s not the only boy she reminds him of, but he’s unable to recall the second one’s name. A ghost that hovers on the edge of his mind.

Nevermind how useless her brief moment of assumed triumph will be. The games may be locked in a box in the minds of Panem and shoved away so they can be blissfully ignorant, but there will always be those in favor of them. What they represent will remain just as their purpose will prove itself once again when the people are governed by the rabid cannibals that ate them. Dogs can’t be trusted to be left to their own devices and off their leashes. Such deranged creatures were far better suited for being submerged in the violence of their own making.

Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever.

The soft dulcet tones of silenced voices ring out, something he once knew about a man who murdered three. The white fog fades away and Coriolanus wakes with a muffled shout to find himself in a raggedy bunk in an all too familiar building. his hands tremble but they look no different. with a disbelieving laugh he realizes that nothing has changed yet, that he has been rewarded for decades of dedication and devotion to Panem. That his herculean task others once thought of as sisyphean had been irrevocably realized.

3 daughters, 3 sons. Countless grandchildren. A legacy that will no doubt be remembered no matter the connotations associated with it.

Coryo’s heart is thundering like it did back then on that fateful day, and it does not slow by the time he’s shoved his things into a sack and hidden in the back of a truck. He could sway from the dizziness of deja vu. The truck soon comes to a stop and he clamors out of it, jumping out and racing however many yards he has to until he can spot his heart doing a terrible job of hiding behind a pillar. Anyone with a working set of eyes could discern the scarlet edges of your skirt swishing from side to side. They would have an unchallenging time seeing you suppress the urge to pick at the skin around your nails.

For the first time in over a year, Coriolanus Snow is utterly consumed by the urge to burst into tears. His beautiful beautiful dryad. The blood red dress he had ran himself ragged to buy clung to you like a lover as you twirled around nervously looking for him. Never in his life had a decision been so easy, so with a grateful chuckle and an embarrassingly giddy grin he bounds over to you. The light splintered through the trees nearby, the way it raked through your eyes and made them sparkle brought him fantastic grief. To him, they have never once lost that illustrious shine.

“I thought you’d never show up, Coryo. I was startin’ to worry a bit.”

Your hand feels like a delicious brand when it slips into his, impossibly soft and his cock throbs in his pants at the countless memories it elicits. In an apparent recreation of Pygmalion gazing upon the stone turned flesh form of Galatea, his love spills from him like a reopened wound. his Aphrodite on earth, his goddess with a never-ending number of rose petals in her hair.

“Not even a bullet in my back could keep me from you, dove.”

A garter snake slithers by between the two of you and before you can notice, Coryo swiftly crushes its head under the heel of his boot. The forest is blessedly silent. His world is kept from cleaving in two by the invisible string you’ve looped around his neck.

The putrid smell of the woods around you forces you to attempt to hide yourself gagging behind your hand. His lips twitch but he suppresses the urge to smile in that smug but infuriatingly hot way he knows you secretly love.

You’d better make quick work of getting over the mountains, you’re pregnant after all.

a/n: I’m sick and on bed rest (the cold is kicking my immune system’s ass) so wip progress has stopped but I had this in the drafts. call me Suzanne Collins because I tried with the naming symbolism. Please reblog if you liked it and yell at me about him if you want <3

#dividers by pommecita cafekitsune and firefly-graphics #this is more experimental but #coriolanus snow x reader #dark fic #⚰️.deaddove #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #tbosas #coriolanus snow x you #snow x reader #snow x you #x reader #x you #tw dark content

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gl1tteryzebra · 2 months

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I had a very pleasant interaction with a cute blonde-headed mechanic recently, now all I can think about is mechanic!jj...

the patchy sliver of shade provided by a low hanging loblolly offered a small reprieve from the heat. jj's signature collared shirt was now hanging open as he tinkered away beneath the bonnet of your car – that was how you knew it was truly sweltering.

it was a miracle you'd been able to rummage that half torn napkin from the depths of your centre console. after your engine stuttered to a stop on the side of some desolate road you were certain you were screwed– 6pm on a sunday night, even if you did manage to coax someone out to wherever you were, the rates would surely plummet your bank account into a state of despair– and then you remembered.

a few months back when you last had car trouble, the blonde slid a crumby piece of tissue across the till at his workshop with a wink, a number scribbled in blotchy red ink.

"you should really invest in a business card." you'd said with a grimace as remnants of whatever he'd been eating drifted down like heavy snowflakes.

" uh–well actually," he reached into his breast pocket, removing a wad of neatly stacked cards bound together by an elastic band. "we're one step ahead of you, sugar."

he passed one of the sleek black cards over as well, albeit a little reluctantly."what's this for then?" you inquired with furrowed brows and he laughed at that, genuinely tickled.

"oh that— that's just in case you're ever in need of my personal assistance."

and it was almost as though today was his manifestation coming too fruition.

off in the distance, through the thicket and beyond the marsh, remnants of daylight peeked over the horizon like a fragile yolk ready to spill into darkness at any moment. you wanted nothing more than to be tucked into bed with a warm cup of tea and your favourite book, but whatever was wrong with your car seemed to not be a simple fix.

patting down the pleats of your skirt, you paced leisurely back and forth before eventually clearing your throat. "how's she looking?"

"she?" his blonde head peeked out from behind the hunk of metal, interest glistening in those pale blue orbs.

"yeah, pinkie. are you telling me you don't name your beloved vehicle?" (the vehicle in question: his beaten up honda CRF 230 which currently laid discarded in a pothole with an open tool box spilling its content onto the side of the road.)

he snickered, removing his cap to wipe the sweat from his brow. "guess you got me there– that's bessie, the finest lass on the road."

you scoffed, "why bessie of all things?"

"oh-kay, there's no way I'll be judged by someone who named their car pinkie...and its not even pink."

"it wasn't available at the time!"

his lips tugged into a downward crescent, mocking your face as it contoured into an earnest pout. "now that's a true tragedy– oh, 'n you happen to go through a car wash recently?"

"uh–yeah. today actually, why?"

"welllll you got water stuck in the engine cylinders, blocking up the emission control system. it got real stinky in the cabin right?"

"yeah it did, almost as bad as a guys locker room."

"ha! sounds 'bout right," his ring clad fingers reached above his head to pull the bonnet down. your eyes naturally drifted to his exposed midriff; lean muscles stretching taut, flecks of sun damage marring his pale skin, a defined v dipping below his waistline...

snapping out of your stupor, your gaze lifted to be met with a knowing smirk– shit. you were surprised when he didn't comment on the fact that you'd so shamelessly checked him out, but even more so as he rushed to pack up his tool box almost bashfully. "uh–so fancy this, I don't actually have the tools I need to fix it on me."

"really? I thought you said you kept everything you ever need on hand."

"huh–oh yeah, well one of the boys must've stolen my shit, bloody typical."

"right...what should I do then?" he flicked his grimy hair from his forehead, regarding you with an impish grin.

"come back to the shop. I'll get my guy to tow your pinkie in tonight, get 'er fixed up bright an' early in the mornin' so you can be on your merry way."

"it's not exactly close to my house–"

he shrugged, persistent as ever, "that's cool, no worries, we've got a couch and some blankets if you wanna stay the night."

"what about you?"

"well I can't risk a thief in the night, can I? best if I stay too."

you resisted the urge to snort, what an idiot. "how am I supposed to get back to your shop now though?"

his eyes spoke for themself, gesturing to his bike as is if that was a stupid question. "oh–no, no no no no no, no way." your hands wildly gesticulated. no, absolutely not. you knew enough about jj's reckless and impulsive nature to guess how this would present itself in other areas of his life– most of a concern to you in this moment, his driving.

"hey, there's need to be scared sugar, I always drive extra careful with precious cargo." he cut himself off with a boyish chuckle as your face morphed into something deeply unimpressed. "c'mon, it's not exactly like you have any other choice...so whadd'ya say?"

you settled onto the back of his bike with a grumble, hands shooting up to adjust the helmet he loaned you (his only helmet). the engine revved to an obnoxious start and with a shriek you hurried cling onto his waist– heart thumping erratically behind your ribs.

"comfy?"

"shut up."

"holdin' me a bit tight, sweetheart. sure you're not enjoying this?"

"shut. up."

his chest rumbled with laughter as he took off into the sunset.

couldn't be bothered to get down and dirty with this one tonight, think I might just make a pt.2

🎀 @seabunni 🎀

#jj maybank drabble #jj maybank prompt #divider by @firefly-graphics #mechanic!jj #jj maybank x reader #want to write more about this #so if you have prompts send em in!!#especially smutty ones hehe #obx x reader

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toxins-very-gay-thoughts · 5 months

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"My wish has been granted. There's no way I'll ever regret it"

"I can't even remember what I thought was so important, so worth protecting..."

#divider by firefly graphics #pmmm #madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #pmmm sayaka #sayaka miki #anime #anime angst #angst

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the-moon-devi · 1 year

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Devi's De'Luxe

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒍𝒖𝒙𝒙𝒆 (𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕). 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒅 & 𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆 & 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅. 𝑰 𝒈𝒐 𝒃𝒚 𝑷𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒂'𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝑻𝒚𝒍𝒂𝒉! 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 16 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔. 𝑰'𝒎 19 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚. 𝑰 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝑽𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄 & 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒅𝒔. (𝑽𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒄 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒐) 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔. 𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒄𝒐-𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔/ 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 & 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆. 😭 𝑯𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈! 𝑰'𝒎 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍, 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒅 & 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒈𝒐𝒅 , 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒔/𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒔. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈! 𝑰 𝒂𝒎 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒉𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒎 𝒐𝒇 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔! 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈! 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒏 & 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔! ~𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓵 🌊🐚💙💋