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i think im a lot less intimidated by dark souls now tht i like. understand the weapon stats n all tht stuff. when i first tried playing i think i was so confused tht everything terrified me so all i did was fuckin die

Y/N : What? I'm not aggressive!

Stephen : Last Tuesday, you wacked me with a pair of crocs and stole my chocolate chips?

Y/N : Survival of the fittest, bitch

The Fallen — AU Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Cursing, abuse, slapping, amnesia, hospitals, medical terms, broken arm, drug use, death, etc.

Words: 1.4k

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @tspice283 @threadofdestiny @praisehoes-and-runovervirgins @price-is-not-right @saucysuazo @bakugous-mamas @iamsorrypapi @shinsouscatpisssmell @ebiharachan @bakusquadtingz

Chapter One | Chapter Three

Chapter Two: Angel On Your Side

Y/N eyes peeled open to an unfamiliar setting. Her head pounded, her left arm was in discomfort, and she was hooked up to quite a few uncomfortable wires. “What the hell?” She questioned aloud in the vacant hospital room.

Questions ran through her mind. First, why is she here? And second, how? Y/N is not the type to make frequent hospital visitations due to the lack of income her family holds. So, this is very out of the ordinary. All she wanted was to be removed from these wires and back to normalcy.

Only to make matters worse, Y/N’s mother barges in the room, slapping her unsuspecting daughter across the face. “Hello to you, too.” Y/N groaned in pain, her left cheek burning from the impact.

“What the hell were you doing out that late, Y/N?” Her mother interrogated, bags present under her restless eyes. “You were supposed to be home, in bed, not in the back of some stranger's van!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, digesting this new inquiry. “Van?” She repeated, confirming what she heard was correct. “I was in the back of a stranger’s van?”

Your mother’s nostrils flared, her scowl growing immensely. She is never one to believe you even when you are telling the truth. “Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N. None of this shit would have happened if you would’ve stayed home!” Y/N’s mother scolded, an accusing index finger pointing in your direction. You released an exaggerated sigh. This is nothing new to you.

“Whatever mom.” Y/N grumbled with the roll of your exhausted eyes. Another slap is delivered to your face. You put your right hand on your cheek, a small whimper crawling out before you could contain it. At this point, Y/N should be used to this treatment. One wrong move and your mother is ready to hit you for it. Just this occasion, you cannot run or defend yourself. All you can do is take the abuse.

“I am your mother. Show some Goddamn respect.” Your mother nagged through gritted teeth. She then proceeds to dig through her maroon leather purse, digging out a bottle of prescription pain pills — from a surgery she had many moons ago — and popping a couple in her mouth. She is already downing a water bottle full of fresh water. Her orbs meet yours.

“What?”

“Are you really poppin’ pills at a time like this?” Y/N questioned in clear distress. Y/N hated witnessing this, but she hated how much more temperamental her mother seemed to be without the medication. Plus, the poor girl had no fight left in her. She still has unanswered questions that her mother clearly will never answer nor will your mother have the correct information to give you.

Y/N studied her mother closely, her face getting warm from the embarrassment seeping in. Though no one is around to see her mother do these actions it still gets under the young one’s skin.

“Are you judging me? Jesus, Y/N! Have you ever thought that I wouldn’t pop pills if you didn’t stress me out all the damn time?” Your mother exclaimed, defensive as always. This mechanism always belittled any strength Y/N possessed.

Swallowing what is left of her defeated pride, Y/N decided to apologize. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” She breathed, unsure if she truly meant it. Anger still boils deep inside her intestines along with shame. Her mother is not an easy person to love, by any means, but she used to be. She used to be Y/N’s best friend; now she is her worst enemy.

“You should be.” Your mother scoffed, folding her arms across her breast. Silence fell over you two, the room’s oxygen supply becoming thick and suffocating. Y/N is used to the lack of breathing room. Her mother knows how to do this to her.

A settle knock on your hospital room door brings both of your attention towards it. A male doctor welcomes himself in. “Oh good, you’re awake.” He grinned. “I am doctor Halcon.”

“Why am I here, doc?” Y/N questioned, not caring for any introductions.

The doctor scans over your charts on a clipboard in his hands. The anticipation ate away at Y/N, her anxiety forcing her resting limbs to rattle. He gazes up at the girl, her nervousness not going unnoticed.

“What do you remember?” He quizzes.

Y/N’s brain wiring went into overdrive, trying to collect and put pieces together for a puzzle she cannot clearly envision. Her mother’s overwhelming presence did not help her either. The last thing Y/N wanted was a repeat of an earlier episode in front of the health professional. Still, all of it is a blur. That whole night was a blur.

“I-I don’t remember much, sir.” You admit, honestly present in your tone. “I went and visited my father’s grave and—“

“You what?” Your mother seethed, one hand resting on her hip while the other one pinched the bridge of her nose. She deeply inhaled then exhaled a few seconds later. Tears welled in her tear ducts. “Let your father Rest In Peace, dammit!” She cried.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, with all due respect, I need Y/N’s honesty. If you cannot keep your personal feelings out of this, I respectfully ask you to leave the room until I am finished conversing with Y/N.” The doctor politely informs, gesturing towards the door. Your mother gasped.

“I am her mother! I have every right to know what is going on with my daughter!”

“Yes, you do, but I am her doctor and I need to make sure she is mentally stable. Let me do my job so you can do yours.”

Your mother pondered the doctor’s words for a moment. She wanted to stay and indulge herself in her daughter’s personal matters, but for the sake of your health, she decided to swallow her pride for once and let the doctor do his job.

“Fine,” she exhaled, “I’ll be right outside this door. If either of you need me just holler.”

“Thank you, Ms. Y/L/N.” Doctor Halcon nodded, watching as your mother left the two of you alone. Once the door shut, your tense posture turned relaxed. You sank into the hospital bed, your hands gripping the blanket as you tried to block out your mother’s tantrums.

“Go ahead and continue, Y/N. You’re doing great.” He encouraged, hoping you did not shut down due to your mother’s outburst.

“I-I don’t know what happened after that.” You stammered, still attempting to connect the dots that seem to fade away. “All I know is that I was visiting my father’s grave a-and..”

“Hey,” you gaze up at the man who rested his hand on your covered knee, “this is a safe space. Give me your honesty so I know how to help you.”

Y/N offered a soft smile, her anxious nerves calming down enough for her to concentrate. You released a heavy breath, no longer wanting to meet the doctor’s understanding pupils. “I went to sell some pills for some cash. Then I woke up here.”

The professional nodded. “Did you know the people?”

You shrugged, unsure of the answer. Even if your memory was fully attained, you do not keep up with names and faces. A sale is a sale. Someone has to fulfill your nicotine addiction and stealing your mother’s cigarettes only goes so far.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. Well, good news is that you’re alright and you’re only suffering with minor amnesia. You hit your head quite hard in the crash that you went into a coma. Your head scans show your head is fine, though. No internal bleeding or hemorrhaging. The bad news is you have a broken arm and will be wearing that cast for about six to eight weeks.” Doctor Halcon explains.

Y/N’s orbs rolled down to her arm. She is not sure what hurt worse: her arm or her cheek? Regardless, Y/N is happy that is the minimum damage.

“When can I leave?”

“Since it has taken you three days to wake up out of your coma, we are keeping you overnight just to be sure you are alright.”

Y/N nodded in response. Doctor Halcon softly smiled. “I’ll leave you to rest.”

Doctor Halcon began making his way out towards the door when he stopped, turning his focus back to Y/N.

“Oh, and Y/N?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Yes, doc?”

“You definitely have an angel on your side, watching over you.”

Y/N stared out the large rectangular hospital windows, overlooking the small city in which she lived. She could not see him, of course, but she grinned at the thought of her father protecting her.

“I guess so.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved — I don’t give anyone permission to repost, distribute, copy or re use my works in any way. 

any other witches use the crystal gun charms for luck or that just me

Distractions (George Weasley)

Word Count: 0.8k

Summary: Doing homework isn’t an easy task when George is involved A/N: No warnings, just fluff! No reader pronouns. My requests are open!!

“George, you’re distracting me.”

“That’s the point, love.”

Every year, the students of Hogwarts seemed to follow the same routine: models of willpower, studious in their autumn endeavors, followed by laggard effort in the winter, resulting in rushed attempts to prepare for their end of year exams. It was almost a ritual, at this point, for the library to be full of students from every house as they made last-minute reparations to their neglected grades. 

You, like most of your classmates, had an open textbook in your lap at all times as the year came to an end. With just under a month left before you were due to take your exams, you were content in your sacrifice of free time, choosing to read up on anything that you might have missed throughout the school year. 

Your boyfriend, George, did not agree with your current fixation on spells and charms that you rattled off throughout the day. 

“You should be studying too, Georgie,” you had told him one morning as you ate your breakfast from behind a transfiguration book.

“Why would I do that, when I could be enjoying my day with you, love?” he had replied, hoping that you would take the hint and abandon your reading. 

You hadn’t complied with his request, instead offering to help him finish the year’s last bout of homework, knowing that he wouldn’t complete it without your supervision. 

The two of you had wondered to the open courtyard, making a compromise to study in an enjoyable atmosphere instead of the gloomy, crowded library. A few students were scattered across the grass, enjoying the warmth of the upcoming season while frantically scribbling across their yards of parchment paper. 

You and George settled on the ground just beside the building, hidden away from the chatter and distractions of your classmates. An open textbook was placed in front of your bodies as you sat beside the redhead, his arm pressed against yours and his parchment falling into your lap.

“Alright, George. We’re starting with potions.”

He nodded fervently, feigning his enthusiasm for the workload that he had disregarded for the better half of the year. With a quill in hand, you began reading the ingredients of a potion to George. 

You glanced over at him after every few words, knowing that you would have to keep a close eye on him. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the topic – he experimented with potions and charms everyday – but you knew that George’s clever mind tended to drift when it came to his schoolwork. 

After reading the instructions of the potion, you helped George fill out his homework correctly, your own work finished and turned in days ago. This process of reciting and scrawling meaningful information onto the paper continued for a while before George began to grow restless. 

George bounced his leg ardently, his knee bumping against yours and jolting you in your place. His hands fidgeting while you read, prodding at the material of your shirt and fiddling with the worn edges of the textbook. 

Eventually, George’s small distractions turned into interrupting speech and deliberate disturbances. He pulled blades of grass from the earth, shredding them between his fingers as he struggled to listen to the seemingly endless information that you spouted off. 

He plucked newly sprouted dandelions from the ground, offering them to you as if they were the sweetest show of affection. 

“This is for you, darling,” he spoke, raising his cupped hands to show the distinct weeds to you, roots still intact and speckled with dirt.  

You fought back a grin as you accepted his gift, placing it to your side and continuing with your lessons. Even though he was purposefully derailing your study session, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of affection for your mischievous boyfriend.

The hours seemed to tick by at a loitering pace as you worked through the small mountain of textbooks that you had brought to the courtyard. Potions, charms, DADA, transfiguration; the subjects had started to blend together in a haze of figures and phrases that you couldn’t untangle in your mind. 

Your last assignment sat halfway finished in your lap as you referenced your reading once again. While your eyes flitted across the pages, you could feel George’s gaze fall onto you. You glanced in his direction to see him studying your visage, a glint of admiration in his eyes. 

“Thank you for helping me today, love. I’m really grateful that you took the day to help me with my work. It means a lot to me, you know.”

Your lips pulled into a small grin at his heartfelt confession. You knew that George appreciated your support, and you would give anything to help him succeed. Whether it was a few hours of your time, or something more demanding, any sacrifice was worth the utterances of love that George shared with you. 

“You’re welcome, George. I’m proud of you for working so hard today. D’you wanna do this again next week?”

George hummed in contemplation, his hand coming to rest on your knee and his eyes meeting yours in a look of sincerity. 

“Never again, love.”

Taglist: @just-a-smol-spoon @ughgclden @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @im-constantly-fangirling @msfandomfreak @leviosa-moon @slycassini @prismarts @mjoubertt-1 @laceycallisto @itsmentalillness @ohnoitsmekc @616films @alohastitch0626 @oh-dionys @nottherealslimshady @abbott27 @onlyfreds @eeniemeenienini @mydelicategirl2000 @mrs-brekker15 @rons-whore @simp-for-cedric-diggory @thestral-queen-rules @pepper-up-potion @eccentricbookworm @mollysolo @pottahishotasf @ginnysbabymama @word-addict-lisette

Daisy's masterlist

(dividers by @firefly-graphics)

Five Silvers | finan x reader

summary: You work in the whorehouse in the roughest part of Wessex. Visiting the whorehouse for the first time is Finan, an Irish warrior. Your madam offers you up and you take him back to your room where things get hot and heavy.

a/n: I have absolutely no idea why I've written this ;) honestly, I feel like I read something somewhere ages back where Sihtric meets a whore, falls in love and they get married and then a few nights ago I ended up dreaming about something similar to this but with Finan and I just had to write it :)

warnings: pure smut, NSFW!! smutty smut smut all the way

word count: 2700+ words

The whorehouse in the lowest, roughest part of Wessex was filled with women trying to make a coin. Each had a story to tell, much the same sadness and to the same ending. Some women had sold their hair for coin, some their teeth, each along with their body and dignity. While you were from that same line of business, you hadn't given anything away other than your body. Sure, it was degrading but you had no choice. You'd never been able to make any silver any way other than selling yourself to men for pleasure.

Most men had been out with King Alfred to aid in the rescuing of his daughter, Aethelflaed, after being taking by two Dane brothers as a hostage to Beamfleot. So business had been slow recently and, considering your prices were a little higher than the others since you still had your teeth and hair, some men didn't like to pay for you. It meant you had to ration your food and you, although you hated to admit it, had resorted to stealing and picking pockets when needed. You'd tried to save your coin for times such as this only to have had it stolen. You had given up trying after the fourth time.

It was getting late in the evening when you'd heard the news that the lady Aethelflaed was safe, which you were happy to hear, and that Alfred's men were back in Wessex. That obviously meant that business was going to be drummed up again and you'd go hungry no more with a bit of luck. Most of the whores were down by the alehouse as the men filled their bellies with warm ale and their laps with a missed weight. Some men had made their way to the whorehouse first, eager to plunge into their favourite activity. You had stayed at the house and had already taken two paying men to bed. You'd earned yourself four silver coins for your time and you figured that one more couldn't hurt before you retired for the night.

After cleaning yourself and changing your sheets, you'd replaced your low-hanging dress over your shoulders and made your way down the wooden stairs and into the large oval room that everyone was greeted with when they entered through the front doors. Further down the hall was more rooms, these being mostly open and available for those who liked to pay to watch. You preferred to be behind closed doors and you preferred your own room. There were women walking around, pushing themselves onto men before leading them to their rooms and the men sampling breasts before choosing their prey.

You noticed one man who you'd seen plenty of times before in the alehouse but never in the whorehouse. He was always in the company of a Dane, a boy-monk who was the bastard child of Alfred and the Saxon-Dane who called himself Uhtred Ragnarsson, the rightful Lord of Bebbanburg. He usually picked up his whores in the alehouse when drunk and he gave a preference to yellow-haired, or what he thought were yellow-haired.

"What kind you looking for tonight, pretty?" Leofwen, the madam of the whorehouse questioned the man. He gently swished his head and glanced up at her. She was round and well looked after, wearing rich red with raven black hair. "We've got them all. Dark-skin, light-skin..." she said, gesturing to two girls with a deep contrast in colour to their skin, "big tits, small tits..." she said, groping the bare breast of one girl. She then spotted you, "And this one. Only red-haired whore in Wessex. She's five silvers a ride, Lord."

You swallowed and did what you always did. You sashayed forwards, allowing the light pink strap of your dress to fall down your shoulder on one side and lightly show your left breast to him. Your long red hair was loose in it's waves down your back as you batted your (colour) eyes at the man. You felt nothing as his eyes wandered up and down your body, just another customer and the last of the night you hoped.

"Five silvers? For a whore?" he questioned, surprising you with a thick Irish accent from his lips.

Before Leofwen could respond, you made your way forward. "Most men dream of my red hair. They can't seem to settle for yellow hair or black hair after they've had me, and why would they?" you started to say. You were so closer to him now, you could see him twitching. You put your lips close to his ear, close enough for him to feel your hot breath against his skin as you spoke. "I'm worth five silvers if you've got the balls to take me."

When you drew back, his lips were contorted into a smirk. You knew the type and you were sure he loved a challenge. His dark eyes looked you up and down, taking in the proportions and sizes of your body and then he raised his hand up, rubbing the red strands of your hair between his fingers. "What is your name?" he asked.

"(name), Lord." you muttered as you smiled at him. Within a few seconds, he had accepted this and accepted to take you for his pleasures. Leofwen tried to use you as much as possible as it brought it the most income for her, and with you getting two silvers out of five meant you didn't turn down the offers. With his looks, you knew the Irishman got all the women he wanted but in this environment, he looked a little uncomfortable and at a loss of what to do now. You reached out your hand and tightly pressed your fingers into his. "This way, my Lord."

You pulled him up the stairs and along the corridor until you reached the shut door of your room. Opening the door, you pulled him inside and you shut the door behind you, placing the block of wood leaning against the wall into place to bar the door from anyone entering.

He stood in the same position you left him in. Men didn't usually want to talk before or after, they didn't want to play or kiss or cuddle, they just wanted what they paid for. You didn't think he would be much different if at all. "What do they call you, Lord?"

"I am Finan." he answered.

You usually did everything you were meant to and what was asked of you, but the men you'd ridden were old and fat and ugly. Finan was young enough, pleasing to the eye and you were sure that under all his armour, his body would have been perfectly adequate too. You didn't enjoy your sessions with these men but you thought you could enjoy riding Finan.

Making your way over to him, you started to pull at his belt. He watched you as your nimble fingers pulled it from him and then worked on his leather vest. You began lifting up the hard brown leather, him having to assist you in order to get it over his head. Within minutes, he was standing in front of you with a bare chest. His abdomen was just as impressive as his arms had been and he looked extremely healthy in his body. You ran the tip of your index finger down the middle of his chest to the top of his belly button, feeling how hard his body was.

His breathing was regular, something you were glad for. He knew what he was getting himself in for, you thought, because he didn't seem fazed by someone else undressing him. You unlaced the leather cuffs around his wrists and threw them into the same pile you had put his belt and vest into. "Do you do this often, Finan? Because I don't think I have ever seen you in this establishment before."

You weren't sure if he would speak back but you gave it a shot. You were sure that he would have picked up plenty of whores before and you usually saw him in the alehouse when you visited. "This is my first visit here, aye." he said.

You smiled, knowing you were right. Instead of talking, you placed your arms on his and pulled him in for a kiss. You didn't do this for other men as, like you said most just wanted to get straight into it, you wanted to get those over and done with as quick as possible. But with Finan, you wanted to feel your highs, you wanted to feel some pleasure in it. His lips were rough but you thought they felt good against yours. It wasn't a quick peck but it kept going which shocked you. He placed a bare hand on the back of your neck, tugging you towards him, while the other arm wove around your waist.

Though you were the one who was meant to be working, he was the one sweeping you off your feet. His grip on you was firm but gentle, satisfying all the same. You allowed your hands to roam up his arms and one tangled in his dark hair while the other rested against his chest. You allowed your tongue to poke from your lips and slowly run along his bottom lip before he returned the action with his own. He was a good kisser so you assumed he had had plenty of practice with girls.

All of a sudden, you felt something hard pressing in to your stomach and you smiled into the kiss. You moved the hand laid against Finan's chest downwards slowly until you pressed your hand against the bulge in his pants. A small, whispered groan left his lips and vibrated against your mouth. It made you feel good to know you could make him feel pleasured. You palmed above his clothing as the kiss deepened.

He stepped forward and continued to do so, forcing you backwards until your back hit the wooden door. He held one arm around your neck and the other gripped your thigh, pulling your leg up until it wrapped around his waist. His fingers reached under your thigh and began working away at the folds between your legs. You let out a whimper.

"Fuck, (name)." he spoke against your lips.

Within moments of beginning to play, his fingers, one by one, began dipping into you until three fingers were working away at you steadily. At one point, he pulled his hand out and up to his lips, licking his fingers and lapping your juices before diving back in again. How the hell was he pleasuring you when he had paid for you to that to him? Perhaps you should have been paying him. He enjoyed hearing the whimpers leaving your mouth, especially when you pressed your lips to his skin.

His fingers worked faster, hitting that sweet spot inside you and building up and up and up until you were begging for release. "Fin..." you murmured against him as you peppered kisses against his neck and shoulder. That spurred him on. He loved that little name you had just given him. "Please..." you moaned.

But just as you were about to allow that release to wash over you, Finan retracted his fingers. "Turn for me."

You obliged with his demands and lowered your leg from around him, spinning on the spot, allowing the wood to come into contact with your cheek. You felt his fingers unlacing your dress, the fabric falling from your body with ease. Without any warning, he had undone his pants because he was rubbing his cock against your entrance. You couldn't remember a time when you'd been the one to receive all the attention. He slowly pushed himself inside of you, all the way he possibly could, hearing the soft noise you made when you breathed in through your mouth.

"(Name)?" he whispered.

You chuckled at the fact that his voice sounded like he cared. You were a whore for one and you had never met him before for two. The fact that he sounded like he hoped you were okay was funny to you. "I'm not accustomed to large packages with my regular customers." you said.

Finan let out a shy laugh as he slowly pulled himself out, making sure his tip did not. He stopped laughing suddenly when he thrusted himself back in, hard and fully and making you gasp loudly. He pressed his lips to your bare shoulder while reaching one hand around to grip your breast and massage gently. He began building up speed and rhythm but you wanted to be able to put your lips on him. When he started to pull back out again, you took the opportunity to turn and face him.

He looked surprised but he was smirking. You started walking forwards and forcing him to step backwards until he hit the bed and fell onto it. His large, throbbing member stood upright and hard, and you knew he needed to enter you again. You allowed him to position himself on the bed as you slowly crawled on top of him, your legs sitting either side of his legs and supporting your bum over his body. He made a sound like a low growl as he placed his hands on your hips.

You pushed your body down onto his, burying your face into his neck and peppering kisses along his jawline. He was a warrior, a fighter, but he was a terrific lover. His hands began roaming up your bare back, his extremely short nails leaving light red trails across your skin. You rolled your hips over his crotch and you heard him groan. It made you smile to know that such a man wanted to feel you clenched around him. You pulled your body up, reaching around to grasp his length and pushing yourself over him.

Once again, you sucked in a deep breath as he filled you. You rocked yourself on him, moaning as the pleasure built up inside you. "Finan... Fin..." you exclaimed. His movement matched yours as he moved with you. You were almost synchronised. It was hot and sweet and wonderful. Your sounds became louder and incoherent as you felt your climax bubbling away, rising between you until your body became rigid and your walls clenched around his member, and you finally felt relief wash over you.

You kept your movements fast for Finan until he leaned forward, surprising you. His arms gathered under your bum and around your back and he rolled you over, still inside you. Your thighs were wrapped around his waist while your back was against the softness of your bed.

As a whore, you'd had pretty much experienced sex every way, until today happened. He was a giver, a pleaser, he was the one to make a whore like yourself feel good. Could this be your reward for giving to all those others? You weren't sure but what was apparent to you was that Finan was sent from God to make you happy tonight, if another night was never to come.

His pace slowed down and he stopped kissing you, like he was focused on something. You took a few seconds to finally understand that what he was thinking about was what to do when he was about to cum. Before you could say anything, Finan pressed his weight on his arm and Bega to pull himself out but you gripped him, nails digging into his flesh. "Don't." you instructed, pushing your body up towards him.

He looked down at you, a strange expression against his face. You couldn't tell if he was smiling, smirking, worried, or confused. Though he carried on with his slow pace, pushing in and pulling out halfway, each thrust tipping you towards a second high. And just as you were thinking of it, you felt yourself release once again just seconds before you felt his warmth spreading through you like fire as he came to an abrupt ending.

Your breaths heavy, he dropped your legs and slumped down to the bed. You moved your leg and twisted your body to allow him room, but he put his head down on your chest. You could feel your chest riding and falling rapidly but he was content listening to your heart beating. Finan lay there as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Usually, customers were made to pull out of you and then they pulled on their clothes and tossed you their coins before leaving the room, you sat naked on your bed. This was different. He stayed with you, resting a hand over your tummy. This was the most happiest you'd been in your job in a long time.

characters: scaramouche (genshin impact) , you

song: mac demarco - chamber of reflection

it's that fleeting feeling of loneliness, and a little bit of desperation that connects the road you've been walking with his.

and even from a simple glance, before knowing of him, his rank or titles, you could tell that Scaramouche is a difficult man.

and as difficult as he may be, any less couldn't be expected of the 6th harbinger of fatui.

taking a side glance at him as the never changing thoughts fill your mind and you tilt your head slightly, in an effort to try and shake off the thoughts without presenting a distracted image.

a calm and silent night as many, it's only the occasional music you make that fills the air.

he never repeats the same thing when you're brought along, save for the exception that is work, papers scattered all around, his muttering chants inside the chambers, never going past the walls.

yet tonight, he seems to be resting. lying down, at least.

head resting on his arms and his gaze focused on the ceiling window that allows a peek at the night sky; he seems to be drowning in his own head.

taking notice of this, you almost smile.

and try as much as you want, you cannot help but wonder, especially in his presence, why does he even want you around?

in a way, it has been so long that the 'how' of your first encounter doesn't matter, and it certainly grants you no answers.

still, scaramouche keeps you around, makes you accompany him, though it's mostly in private and certainly as far away from the other harbingers as possible.

it doesn't make sense, if it's music he wishes, he could've hired the greatest of artists from all over tevyat, not a mediocre like you; and although you appreciate the high paycheck that comes with the easy work, the 'why' of it never leaves.

Scaramouche isn't an easy person to be around, let around working together, no matter the distance he puts and the cold, emotionless treatment he gives you– nothing good but nothing bad, in the end, isn't this what the two of you are to one another?

indifferent, irrelevant, just two seperate people happening to strike a deal.

the song ends before you realize, has it been that long already? there is no need for a peek at the tracklist however, he always requests for the same songs to be played in a specific order.

"hey," his voice snaps you out of your head, again and you turn to meet his gaze. the 'yes master?' and 'yes sir?'s on the tip of your tongue, for some reason, he has asked you to stop addressing him as such, you wait for him to continue.

"the song you were murmuring today."

it takes you a second to register the words. "would you like me to play it next?"

"why else would i be bringing it up now?" he scoffs and redirects his gaze back on the ceiling, but the tone of his voice doesn't escape your ears.

without the commanding tone, it is, surprisingly, quite gentle– or perhaps you've been spending a little too much by his side.

and in that moment, as your finger finds the first key to press, it hits you.

as lonely as you are, he is too.

the music, the constant requests for you to accompany him, no matter the location, the region; isn't that all that is, in the end?

it must be, else, how could he notice that the next song was your least favorite to play?

having been read so easily doesn't bother you as much as it should, too busy trying to figure out a way to improvise the rest of the song is all that matters to you.

in that moment, under the immovable sky, in the bare chambers where words are barely ever exchanged, it feels a little less lonely and a little more bright.

Can everyone go look at my dear friends tumble page @lokiskitten , she is phenomenal with her writing and really goes in depth with how the characters behave and speak. She does tomhiddleston/loki/bucky/Sebastian fanfiction, so please go request. Request anything!! Even if it’s from soft moments with loki in the Asgard library or getting your guts rearranged by brainwashed bucky

She’s also writing me a whole David 8 book 😏 bouts get POUNDED by a droid

yk its rlly funny in my acting 2 class in college my professor was like

okay class we are gonna be learning how to flesh out a character from a script who may only have like three lines of dialogue and build a character and make them real and believable as an actual person

and i was sitting in my seat vibrating like

you can throw a single monologue across the room and I guarantee you I will flesh their entire background before it fucking lands-

N/S/F/W James/Kojiro headcanons

• power bottom/sub top no arguments

• toy addicted

• probably has an extensive personal collection that he’s always begging you to use on him

• probably into exhibitionism

• quickies in public places drive him crazy

• he has a preference for under the desk head

• not subtle at all though so it’s always obvious something is happening just from the look on his face and the little sounds he lets slip

• INSANELY vocal, usually praise and petnames but sometimes slurred curses will fall from his lips when he’s practically gooning

• when he’s too worked up to speak full words he just lets out delicious little grunts and moans that get longer and whinier the closer he is

• more of a receiver than a giver by nature but doesn’t mind returning the favour

• a bit of a people pleaser so when he’s touching you he’ll give it his all to make you feel good

• vanilla when it comes to positions, he likes when his partner rides him or they fuck doggy style

• probably into mirror sex, gets off a little to seeing his own O-face and watching himself slide into his partner or seeing himself being fucked from behind

• gets super clingy after sex, he’ll be attached to you at the hip and showering you in little pecks while slurring tired sweet nothings into your nape

• into lingerie but prefers to take it off before actually doing anything to preserve it

• probably gets matching sets for you both

• likes the idea of taking pics or videos during sex

• has a folder of photos of your hand or mouth around his member probably followed by some pics of you donning his seed across your body or curled up next to him asleep after

• usually sweet but can be teasing in an almost bitchy way at times

• will nudge his tip against your entrance and push in slightly only to pull out and grin down at you smugly

• “tell me exactly how much you want me inside darling or i’ll have to finish without you”

• gets extremely whiny and demanding when he’s on the receiving end

• it’s like his vocabulary is reduced to just some weak pleas and “right there! there!”

• his O-face is truly a sight to behold

• his lids flutter as his eyes unfocus, sometimes his jaw will drop open enough for a bit of drool to escape him, his brows furrowed so hard it seems almost painful

• probably has a cum kink, either shooting it on you somewhere or coming inside

• “gonna fill you up so good” “you’ll be filled with me for weeks” “look how pretty you look all covered in my cum darling” “i almost want to take a picture”

• extremely jealous and when he is it shows

• will not settle for bottoming when he’s jealous and he’ll insist you fuck in front of the mirror so you can “see how good i fuck you, how perfectly i fit inside, how you’re made for me”

• if not infront of a mirror you’ll definitely be fucking face to face and he’ll be leaving passionate kisses against you even as he makes his speeches about how he’s the only one who could ever fill you so well

• probably cries sometimes when you have slow or lovey sex because he’s a sentimental doof at heart

• the king of aftercare… for himself, other than being extremely clingy towards you after sex most of his aftercare is aimed at himself, he’ll run himself baths with special soaps or make himself a refreshing snack, though of course he’d share or extend the invite if he thought you were interested

• overall amazing lay

I feel like horrortale!sans is actually very smart and very clever. I think, as far as like ‘post-game we’re on the surface now’, personality wise, he would be pretty reserved simply because he’s lost any reason to fight for respect or power (also mmm ptsd). But that doesn’t make him any less cunning like he is in the original horrortale comics.

I want him to find a y/n who is absolutely just stupid. The Definition of a Blonde Bimbo, who knows nothing, who goes like “I read where NASA said the sun is going to explode!!!!” and HT!Sans is so confused and blown away by their stupidity he has to correct them. And y/n is absolutely enthralled. They sit there and they’re like

“wow sans you’re so smart (╹◡╹）♡. What else can the sun do?”

Sans sits there, explaining in full scientific detail, how photosynthesis works while on a date with y/n because by god they might be dumb as hell, but they sure are kind. And they love listening to sans not because they know what’s going on, but because they like sans.

Eventually sans tells them all about the underground and about what Undyne did. Y/n’s reaction just captures his cold hungry heart. They go: “(◞‸◟) thats so mean. Why would your friend do that?” And all sans can do is look at them and think: “yes. Why would my friend do that. Someone finally understands…”