what kind of companion are you if you're not even one of my crushes

anonymous asked:

If you're still taking prompts, how about natsume and natori + 37. "Do you think they could have loved me?”

writing prompts
37. “do you think they could have loved me?”


It’s a sunny spring afternoon, and Shuuichi is alive and in one piece after another misadventure concerning a handful of aggressive yokai and a certain extremely taboo book in his young friend’s possession – and more importantly, Natsume, sitting beside him and bickering with the fat cat in his lap, is alive and in one piece, too.

They’re dirty and disheveled and Natsume seems to have a personal vendetta against allowing Shuuichi to buy him food, but they have certainly had worse days than this.

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anonymous asked:

Hey this may be kind of a weird ask but please humor me lol. My request is Soldier, Reinhardt, and Hanzo with a person who they see as a child/the yandere as the parental or guiding figure? With a focus on wanting to protect/care for the one they think of as almost a child? I know that sounds weird but I just had this idea lol Thanks! You're an awesome writer 💞💞💞💞

Soldier: 76 never thought he could ever be capable of being an actual father. He was far too busy as Strike Commander and the poster boy for Overwatch to even consider settling down to start a family. Now, it was far too late for him as he was too old and constantly roaming the world as a vigilante. Not that he particularly minded, he was just suited to be alone. At least that’s what he thought until he met you. You didn’t particularly catch his eye but he found himself wanting to protect you as if you were his own flesh and blood. Everywhere you went he followed to ensure your safety. The world was harsh and cruel and you were soft and kind. Given the chance anyone would tarnish you but he wouldn’t let that happen to you. For now, all he could do was watch from the sidelines.

You were a tourist in Germany and hardly knew the language. You were so, so lost and it was getting late and you still couldn’t find the directions to your hotel. You squeaked when a large, burly man approached you. You were relieved when he spoke fluent English and you quickly asked him for help. He called himself Reinhardt and gladly gave you directions to the hotel. The German man escorted you to your hotel as dusk began to set in and he wouldn’t want anyone taking advantage of a tourist who didn’t even know their language. You talked a great deal of many things such as your travels, you friends and family, and all the sites you wanted to see while you stayed in Germany. Reinhardt himself had a traveling companion named Bridgette and apparently the two of them would visit Eichenwalde castle the same day you wanted to go. Upon hearing this he requested that you join them and you happily accepted.

When you finally arrive at the hotel you waved him goodbye and thank him tremendously for his kindness in leading you here. He simply smiles and pats your shoulder, “It’s no problem, mein kleines kind.”

In his entire life Hanzo never saw anyone as family unless they were actually his blood relatives. Even then he hardly showed any interest in them but did pay his respects. When he first interacts with you he thinks of you as naive and foolish for seeing the world in such bright and vibrant colors. You were disillusioned with reality, he thought. The more time he spent with you the more he began to see the world less as dull grays and more as soft colors. His view of the world was slowly changing and he wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew there was good in the world but not in his world. You didn’t belong by his side and for that he blamed himself, scared of tainting your world black. As if sensing his inner turmoil you always smiled up at him and for a second the world was bright yellow as if your smile alone could light up the universe. As a man, you changed him and he vowed to protect you for the rest of his life. He won’t let anyone bully you and he certainly won’t stand for anyone aside from himself taking care of you properly. You were Hanzo’s salvation and he wouldn’t let the world he saw and knew to be true crush you like it did him.

silicon-warlock  asked:

Hiya Carrie, I've been having a terrible time recently due to the evils of infected cysts under wisdom teeth... And I've been craving a super sweet, fluffy Sterek fic with kissing; since I can't do any myself! It would be lovely if you could whip up something (please and thank you). I hope you're well :)

Oh no! I hope you’re doing better and that this cheers you up! /hugs/

“Grmmwwhu,” Stiles says around his swollen cheeks.

“You can’t eat yet, your mouth is still numb,” Derek says, giving him an exasperated look, closing the refrigerator door. He shoos Stiles away from the kitchen and back towards the couch. “Look, I have applesauce and stuff for you when you’re hungry, but the dentist said you can’t have solid food for three days.” 

Stiles whines. He feels awful. His mouth is throbbing, his head hurts, everything is woozy, and his dad is working this epic case out in San Francisco, and Scott was going to be home this weekend but then he got called last minute because there were seats open at the Greater Pacific Northwest Werewolf Symposium. And while their pack was originally going to not go at all (there was a troll invasion during registration week, and they missed out), this was an opportunity in a lifetime for Scott, and Stiles wasn’t going to make him miss out on that just to.. babysit him.

Eurgh. Four day weekend home from college, and he thought it was a great idea to schedule that wisdom teeth extraction he’d been putting off.

Stiles flops on Derek’s couch listlessly, angrily putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Tslurbpkkk,” he says.

“I know it sucks,” Derek says, sitting next to him. 

Stiles blinks and draws a pillow to his chest, stealing a glance at Derek. Okay, maybe it’s not all terrible. He’s still surprised Derek is here for Stiles-watch when he’s pretty sure he would have been fine on his own. But he guesses Scott asked everyone to keep Stiles company or something and Derek… volunteered?

“Here– can I?” 

Stiles nods, and Derek takes his hand. Black streaks start to run up his arm, and Stiles can feel the pain ebbing away, leaving his mind blissfully clear to appreciate that Derek’s pretty much just holding his hand.

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