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alastor🎙!!

first time drawing him, there might be alot inaccuracy;;

Reblog to kill it faster

I'm such a big Junpei girly i have a whole cardboard cutout an的everything but HIS LOVE LANGUAGE IS SO GIFT GIVING. LIKE omfg. He doesn't really keep up with trends so he's always a little confused when he's getting you gifts, but hey i mean he's got the spirit and thats all that matters because at the end of the day the best thing about dating him is seeing the same stupidly awkward grin he gives you as he offers you the gift and the way he lights up when he realises it was indeed something you liked.

I have something else coming out soon, but i had this stuck in my brain for a while since i got hospitalised again and i was imagining what different characters would bring as get well soon gifts. Maybe i'll write something separate about that too LOL

the simplicity of his love.

Softie!Megumi x Reader

summary: everyday life with Megumi

WARNINGS: downbad Megumi ꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱꒰ᐢ. ̫ .ᐢ꒱

Word count : 500 (I.... somehow wrote exactly 500 words...? I think essay writing's been starting to have it's toll on me (╥﹏╥)....)

a/n: I haven't posted in a few months, so please take this that i scrapped together in an hour as a apology. It somehow feels so much better than the one I spent hours on, though.....

I've been diagnosed with a few blood issues, so I've been in and out of the hospital for a while. I'm on more meds, but I'm now back to writing again....!!!! Thank you for your patience!!!!!

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Despite the fact that he’s almost always busy, he still goes to the florists’ every month. He’s been there so much, in fact, that to make it easier for him, the old lady that worked there would always leave the flowers he always bought outside, so he wouldn’t need to trudge all over the store, trying to find those damned pink flowers you liked so much. 

He bids farewell to the old lady again with a curt nod, making sure to leave an extra big tip this time.

He gently plucks a single flower out from the bouquet and makes sure to drop it into a vase by his bed once he gets home so that he knows to buy you new flowers once the one in his vase starts to wilt. 

He won’t admit it, but whenever he starts to miss you, he gazes upon that singular stalk sitting in his blue vase. It starts to remind him more and more of you, the way that the flowers bloomed and even the way the flower smelled - you’re constantly plaguing his mind. 

He loves you, and he loves you so much.

You’re the only flower he cares for, the most beautiful, the most delicate,the most precious, your touch is like a heavenly blessing to him and your eyes have that soft feel to them.

He’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t starting to affect him. Your scent is starting to linger in his house, in his living room, on that book you’d grabbed absentmindedly while he was in the shower, on his pillows and sheets you had insisted “felt way softer”. He looks at you with that same soft gaze, one that was filled with love and respect.

He didn’t appear to others as a softie, because that was only for you to see. A special side of him that he had kept behind closed doors, doors that only you can open.

Period pain? He’s already shown up to your door, drenched from the rain, bags of painkillers, snacks and heating pads in hand. 

You’ve called him at 1am again, muttering something incomprehensible about your nightly cravings of mac and cheese? I know, he says over the phone, voice still groggy. He tells you about a whole bowl he left in the fridge while he was at your house. 

You got sick? He leaves behind everything that he had been doing, and rushes to your apartment with medicine from the pharmacy and homemade chicken noodle soup. He raises a spoonful of the soup and you swallow it all, nuzzling your face into his hand. He sighs, feeling how warm you are, but doesn’t protest. Everything is silent as he gently runs his fingers through your hair, watching it ripple like a waterfall. No words were being exchanged, but the concern in his eyes spoke more than words could’ve ever.

“Ughh. I love you so much.”

“....you’re just trying to stall from taking your medicine again, aren’t you…..?”

Sunlight.

DEAD!Megumi x Grieving! Reader

summary: In the wake of Megumi's death, you're left haunted by the quiet moments you've shared, the unspoken words, and the last goodbye that never came. Clinging to the memories of a love that felt unfinished, replaying the moments you wish you could have held onto forever. Grief, in all its silence, becomes a space you learn to inhabit, where the echoes of your lost connection linger just out of reach.

WARNINGS: (mentioned) character death, depression, ANGST!!!!!!!, heartbreak

Word count : 1134 words (I thought it would be short, but i just kept going with it and here we are....)

a/n: First time writing something super angsty!!! I hope you all enjoyed it... I think I did really well! (˶˃ᆺ˂˶) ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You didn’t say much that morning. But that wasn’t unusual. You never did.

You stood by the door for a second longer than usual. Glanced back at me. And in your eyes—just for a moment— there was something soft. Something final.

I should’ve noticed. Should’ve asked why you weren’t wearing that fake bored look you always put on before missions. Should’ve stopped pretending I was too busy to get up and kiss you goodbye.

But I didn’t. I waved. Lazy. Distracted. Said, “Don’t die, dumbass.”

And you huffed a laugh. That almost-smile. Then turned and left.

No last words. No “I love you.” Not even a real look.

Just the soft click of the door closing.

And now I keep replaying that moment, over and over, like if I stare at it long enough, I’ll see something I missed.

A message. A sign. A warning.

But there’s nothing. Just you, fading into the morning light, shoulders squared like always, like you were walking into something you’d already accepted.

You always were like that— quiet, distant,

I know now— you were protecting me. Not just from the mission. From the goodbye.

Because if you had said anything real, anything final, I would’ve shattered right there.

But you knew me. Knew I needed to believe you'd be back. So you gave me silence. And left all the words unspoken.

Now I cling to them. The ones you never said. The look you gave me like it might’ve been enough. The quiet care folded into every goodbye you never made a big deal of.

I never got to say it back. But I hope you knew. Hope my half-wave meant please come back, and my lazy grin meant I need you, and my stupid parting words meant I love you more than I know how to say.

I hope you carried that with you. To wherever you are. Wherever you went.

Because I still carry you— in the silence. In the warmth that lingers. In the things we never said but always meant.

Some days, I still set a place for you. Not a real one. Not forks and plates. But a space—next to me, in the quiet. In the pauses between songs. In the second half of a sentence I never finish anymore.

I don’t think people vanish. Not really. You’ve just… sunk beneath the surface of everything.

You’re in the smell of summer pavement after rain. In the echo of a laugh I hear once and never again. In the way I turn, sometimes, too fast—thinking you're there. And the second after, when I remember.

You would’ve hated how soft I am now. How small I’ve gotten. I used to be louder around you. Stranger. Braver. Real.

Now I just exist. Sleep. Wake. Float.

Some days I still wonder what you were thinking. Before. When the silence started pressing too hard, when the light got too far away.

Did you know I would miss you like this? Like a phantom limb? Like an entire future collapsing in slow motion?

I still dream of you. Not as a ghost. Not as someone gone. But as you were—messy, warm, your sharp eyes, good with the dogs, awkward.

You always knew how to ruin me with a smile.

And when I wake up— when the dream folds shut like a book I never finished— there’s that moment. Where the air remembers you.

Where the world almost feels like it did before.

And I just lie there. Quiet. Staring at the ceiling like maybe you’ll come back with the morning light.

You don’t.

But I keep waking up anyway.

If I could stay in a moment… Yeah. I think I would.

But only that one. The one that slipped past like sunlight on water— brief, warm, gone before I could hold it.

It wasn’t anything special. Just your laugh, maybe. The way your voice stumbled when you were too tired to filter your thoughts. The way we both said nothing, and it still meant everything.

I replay it sometimes. That soft little second in the blur of days. You looked at me as if I were made of light. Me pretending I didn’t notice.

But I did. God, I did.

And now it’s fading.

Like all beautiful things do—too fast, too quiet, too soon.

I try to keep it. Bottle it up, hide it away, memorize the sound of it. But it slips. It always slips.

And maybe I was never meant to keep you. Maybe we were always going to be this—just a blink between lifetimes. Something bright and impossible and almost.

But still, I find myself reaching— in dreams, in quiet hours, in the soft hush of early morning— hoping, maybe, you’re doing the same.

Just for a moment. Just one.

You and me. Caught between the seconds. Still turning, still drifting, Still almost real.

I woke up like usual,

flipping to my side, and you’re still not there.

If I could’ve said something that mattered… Yeah. I think I would have.

But it all happened so fast. Too fast to hold. Too fast to save.

One minute, you were laughing like the world couldn’t touch you. And then— just air. Just a silence too big to fill.

People said it was peaceful. That you didn’t feel a thing. But I think they said that for me, not for you. Because I felt it. The echo where your voice should’ve been. The coldness in places you once warmed.

You were gone, and the sky didn’t change.

I hate that.

I hate that the world kept spinning, like you were never here at all.

But I remember.

I remember the exact shape of your presence— the way time curved when you smiled, the way your fingertips lingered a second too long, like you were always about to say goodbye but never quite did.

Maybe you knew. Maybe you knew.

And maybe I didn’t want to believe it.

Now, I go back to where you still exist— the songs we shared, the notes you left, the way your name looks written in my handwriting. 

Your jacket still lingered of your scent.

Your toothbrush is still hanging in my bathroom cabinet.

It’s like you’re going to be back, but I promised myself.

I can’t keep deceiving myself with lies like those. 

You’re not going to be back. Not to collect your toiletries,

And even more so not to collect the memories we’ve shared together. 

And so I replay it— the moment before you left. The last laugh. The last word. The last time you looked at me like I was something worth staying for.

The world spins, but I stay still. In the memory of you. In the breath before the end. In the place where I almost kept you.

SUGAR DADDY Wriothesley 😍

Like let's say you came from a poor family but you wanted to go to a prestigious school in Fontaine but no matter how many jobs you took or how many hours you spent, you still could not afford the tuition. As the only daughter and the only child, you had to think of something fast. Let's say by chance you and him were both walking in the streets of Fontaine, Wriothesley hears your pleas. He proposes to be your "sponsor" or as you yourself call it a...sugar daddy. Of course, this alliance stays a secret between the both of you. The people of Fontaine are noisy after all. With him as your "sponsor", you're able to afford school AND lift your family out of poverty. In return, you just have to do some...favors for him.

[This is maybe ooc but idc]

-girlie anon

ooo girlie anon i love me some sugar daddies🤭❤️ he'd be a sweet sugar daddy. one that spoils you often but of course he does expect some love in exchange. he's a busy man so it's hard for him to find a s/o in the very little free time he has. so when he found you, it's like an angel fell into his lap *wink wink*

You usually do it at his place. It's a secluded place where people can't see you coming and going as you please.

Quickies in his office. You surprise him sometimes by dropping by his office unexpectedly, helping him take a little break ;)

Besides giving you money for school and your family, he sometimes likes to gift you things like jewelry, clothes, etc. He tries to not go overboard where people start to question where you're getting these things, but sometimes he can't help himself.

After a while into your arrangement, he surprised you with a pendant choker that has his initials on it. You thanked him for the present by riding him all night. Little do you know, it's his way to claim you. He loves seeing it as he pounds into you. Makes him feral.

I would say he's a bit possessive but not too much. Like he usually marks you with hickeys.

He helps you study not really you sit on his lap while doing your homework. While focused on reading, you can't help but notice the wandering hands exploring your body."I thought you were gonna help me study," you asked him. "Just helping you relax, you seem tense," he said as he spreads your legs apart. Studying slipped your mind for the rest of the night.

When he does actually help you study, he plays the game where if you get a question right, he 'rewards' you. You make extra sure to know the correct answers.

He makes sure you're both satisfied when you do your meet ups.

I see this as the classic 'develop no feelings but end up falling in love' trope.

He's the first one to fall.

When he sees you talking to other fellow male classmates on the streets of Fontaine, he gets a little bit jealous. He's usually a pretty chill guy and has never experienced jealousy over a person. This is when he realizes his feelings for you.

You realize your feelings for him one night when you celebrate getting an A+ on an important paper. He treats you to a candlelight dinner, a beautiful gift, and amazing sex. While he was busy rearranging your insides, he tells you that he's proud of you which catches you off guard. It makes you think back to all the sweet things he does for you and how he treats you so nicely. You realize that you have deeper feelings for him. You cup his face, causing him to still his movements. You look into each others' eyes. You smile and pull him down towards you and meet for a passionate kiss. This helps him understand your feelings. You break the kiss, barely moving away from each other. "I love you." He says as he searches your eyes. You smile wider. "I love you too." You share another kiss which turn into more kisses as he goes back to rearranging your insides. It felt different this time though. It felt more intimate. He leaves hickies on your neck while his hand goes down to rub circles on your clit. This pushes you over the edge. You tighten around him, edging him closer to his climax. "Fuck. I'm close." He prepares to pull out until you wrap your arms and legs tightly around him. "Inside. Cum inside me." Those words make him feral. He goes faster. He cums deep inside you, making you fall over the edge again as well. You both breathe heavily as you come down from your highs. He turns you both on your sides, staying snug inside you as he holds you close. You trace his scars as you share kisses. No further words are exchanged that night except for your moans and screams of pleasure.

~a/n: i'm sorry this took me so long to finish. I might have gone overboard near the end lol

i just went to check, and my first ever piece of writing got 30 likes, and I currently have 9 followers. Thank you all very much, I will be working hard to improve...

Neuvi wanna go for a ride?

wish a ghost was violating me in public and there was nothing I could do about it.

when I’m in the fitting room, disembodied hands pass through my panties, fingering my cunt and playing with my clit until i soak the material, forcing me to buy it.

at work, hands groping my tits, massaging and pinching my nipples, forcing me to hold back tears and moans.

on my way home, shoved into an alley, pants pulled down and spanked without mercy until i’m crying.

in a public restroom, taking my panties away, ripping them to shreds or carrying them far far away, so i’m forced to walk around with the knowledge that my cunt is bare

never letting me cum unless i’m in public. only giving me enough time to hide behind a bush before it’s pounding my cunt until im in tears, shoving disembodied fingers in my mouth, spanking my ass with every thrust.

just..violate when i can’t do anything about it

Who needs a aesthetic theme when i can be mentally insane instead