#& YOU ALWAYS HAVE A CHOICE. YOU CAN EITHER ROLL OVER AND DIE OR YOU CAN KEEP FIGHTING. ( d. winchester: images )

[teabutmakeitazure]

Roll a Die, Roll a Poison - A Game

>Yan! Aventurine x Fem! Reader

>Word count: 1.7k

>a/n: very subtle yan themes in this one. might expand on this soon. i love a man going through trust issues and self depreciation. plus points if he's pretty

Part 2

To say you found the sound of a die rolling to be annoying would be an understatement. No, it scratches your auditory canal as it works its way through to your eardrums, wreaking havoc on your hearing before you even register the sound. What’s worse is the voice that follows after it and the insufferable smile accompanying it.

“Care for a game?”

Asking for your participation is a charade. In the occurrence that you do decline, you are simply pestered to the point that you give in like how an older sibling acquiesces to the younger’s demands. Except you two aren’t family, not yet at least, and he is nowhere near a cute younger brother or a cute younger anything.

The fur lined coat is shrugged off, and Aventurine plops down on the other end of the sofa. You have half a mind to get up and relocate, but considering his pettiness and the very high possibility that he would simply follow you, you decide to let things be. A single die is placed onto the dark oak centre table in front of you both, and when you look at him questioningly, he simply rests his back against the sofa with a smile. The dark teal green velvet of the sofa sometimes seems like a deliberate choice to you.

He is wearing a similar colour after all. Like he almost always is.

“No bets,” Aventurine clarifies. “Just a game.”

You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to accept so readily. “What kind of game?”

When he speaks, his voice slightly reverberates through the empty apartment. It reminds you of how empty it is and how he is the only other here. “Oh, it’s just a simple game, to get to know each other better. Each of us will take turns rolling the die. If the number is 1 to 3, you have to answer a question I ask. If the number is 4 to 6, I have to answer a question you ask.”

“No constraints on the questions? I have an idea of what might be brewing in your mind, and I frankly do not like it.”

He laughs, eyes closing as he recomposes himself. “Ah, as much as I would love to enact upon that, I’m afraid I won’t. It’s just a simple game, dear. Won’t you humour me?”

You glance between him and the die innocently lying on the table, the number 2 staring back at you. His coat is hanging over the backrest and he’s wearing his usual work clothes. Something must have happened at work. Something that ticked him off, and now he’s looking for an excuse to bask in your company because he’s aware you won’t humour him without something like this.

Fine then. You’ll accept on your own accord. Maybe you might end up with an answer or two.

“Alright,” you answer. “Any other thing I should know?”

He blinks, those devastatingly beautiful yet incriminating eyes blink at you. “Alright~ The first person to score a total point of 30 wins. Their prize? The other person has to do whatever they want.”

“I thought you said there’s no bet.”

“This isn’t a bet, sweetheart. It’s a game. There are winners and losers in games.”

Something’s up. 30 isn’t a high number. The game will be over not too long after it starts and the winner gets a prize that’s too good to be true. “Are you sure?” You eye him wearily as you speak, the smile never leaving his face. “What if I win and ask for you to never see me again? Isn’t that too big of a price to pay over a silly game?”

Aventurine hums. There is either something cooking in his head or he’s overly confident that he would win. The latter you would not put against him. He has insane luck. So much so that you worry over him someday shooting himself while playing roulette with a revolver, but it hasn’t happened yet.

“Well,” he drawls, “you can ask for anything you want if you win. However, it’s imperative for you to remember that there is a way to work around everything. So then, let’s begin, shall we?”

He reaches for the die, and asks for your hand. When you extend your palm to him, he grabs it gently with one hand, the leather rubbing against your skin as his thumb rubs your wrist, and the other places the die on your hand. “Ladies first,” he chuckles. You waste no time in rolling, the sound of the die falling onto the empty table making you cringe.

When it stops, the number 3 stares back at you. What a great start.

“Oh! It’s my turn to ask. How lovely.” When you give him a sad look, he’s quick to conceal the excitement he just displayed. “Ah, I’m not sure what I should ask. Give me a second.”

You know he must have prepared at least 10 questions beforehand, so purposely dragging it out is just rude.

“I know,” Aventurine exclaims, “Tell me one thing you like about me.”

You deadpan. “That isn’t a question.”

“What’s one thing you like about me?”

Okay now this is tricky. The temptation to reply ‘your money’ is strong, but you both know it’s not true. You could care less about his riches simply because you do not let him win you over with them. There are another few answers that you could use to your advantage to potentially playfully dodge the question, but you suppose that wouldn’t be a very noble thing to do.

Thus, you break eye contact and direct your attention to the die on the table. “Your attention to detail,” you mumble out. “It’s… interesting.”

Aventurine makes a satisfied hum, and you can almost hear the upward curls of his lips in his voice. “I’ll take it. Now then…”

A gloved hand grabs the die and rolls. The number he rolls is 5, and you mentally cuss him out. “My turn again!” He asks you to face him, that sweet, buttery voice of his leaving those perfectly moisturised lips and-

“My question is… what would be the perfect date you ever went on?”

This time, you blink at him. Interacting with Aventurine is usually like a game of chess. Both of you move your pieces in your respective turns, and every sentence that leaves either of your mouths counts as a move. The pieces represent the strength of either party. However, it is imperative to reiterate that you aren’t good at chess and you’re pretty sure he’s either eating or hiding your pieces when you’re not looking.

“Nothing,” you reply. “I would rather not be on a date. Ever.”

He tuts. “You were the one who asked me out the first time. Or are you forgetting?”

“I was not.”

“You asked me out for coffee, remember?”

You choke on your words for a moment. The audacity of this man! “Asking to have coffee together is not a date!”

“Is it,” he chuckles. “We were alone together, and we talked for way more than an hour. I specifically cancelled any appointments I had that day, and I even paid the bill. That’s a date. Not a simple outing.” You part your lips to speak but are cut off. “So, what’s the ideal date for you?”

“I frankly have no clue.” He raises a brow at your admittal, but makes no move to question it. “My romantic experiences aren’t exactly plentiful, but I suppose anything would do as long as it isn’t in a casino or the like.”

“Hm. Noted. Your turn.”

The accursed die is taken into your hands, yet you do not roll it immediately. It is given a harsh glare and a mental warning before flung to the table carelessly. Surprisingly, you score a 6.

Aventurine whistles at that appreciatively. “Hope you’re keeping count of your points.”

“I am. No need to worry your hat off.” A mischievous smile stretches on your lips. Retribution has come, although in a small dose, and you would be an utter fool to waste it. “Riddle me this, my personal annoying, chirping bird. Why do you torment me so?”

He feigns innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Do not play dull. Why do you remain adamant on making my life so difficult?”

“Difficult?” Aventurine acts offended, as though he’s been told he doesn’t love you. “Why, I cherish you, my dear. Regardless, I never caged you. You simply make things difficult for yourself.”

You click your tongue. What a roundabout way of saying he sabotages things deliberately for you. “I would beg to differ.”

“Nevertheless, I cherish you. We’re in love. And before you say something like not liking me back, I’d like to remind you of all the things we did before going into this ‘arrangement’.”

You bite back instantly. The mere mention reminds you of the evening you spent sobbing locked in the bedroom’s attached bathroom. “Do not downplay your actions. You know you hurt me. Playing innocent just makes you look worse.”

“I took a gamble with your emotions as the wager. Sure, I lost a few chips, but I did win. And viola. Here you are.”

A glare full of bittersweet betrayal is directed his way, yet he simply looks tired. “Don’t look at me like that…”

You avert your gaze at that. Life has turned into a series of sought out opportunities to gain the upper hand, something he is unwilling to relinquish. It’s maddening at times, but it is your reality. Even if you wish it weren’t, you don’t hold the power to change it.

“To answer your question,” he says, voice low, “I don’t want to, but I currently don’t have any other choice.” And just like that, in the blink of an eye, he’s grinning again.

“My turn!” Aventurine grabs the die, eyeing it as it sits in his leather palm. “Your 9 points versus my 5 points. Let’s see who wins in the end.”

The sentence makes a chill run down your spine. He’s insanely good at games like this. Just what would he ask of you?

As you watch him roll a 6, you only continue to lose hope for a win. Just like the countless times before.

a/n: he asked you for a kiss on the cheek everyday for a week straight that's it

#yandere honkai star rail x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere aventurine #yandere aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader

[chappelroan]

GET TO KNOW ME ♡ Favorite Characters ↳ Dean Winchester “That’s crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die or you can keep fighting, no matter what.”

#dean winchester #supernatural #deanwinchesteredit #supernaturaledit #spnedit #cowboycoven #inacatastrophicmind #becauseofthebowties #captainchilly #dailyspngifs #canonspngifs #* #gtkm #this didnt show in the tags the 1st time. so. lets do this again. plus one of the text was fucked up

[belphieslavenderscentedpillow]

Obey me brothers finding out that YOU have decided to match clothes with MAMMON

My first headcannon! So excited 😆 hope you enjoy!

Lucifer

Wait you‘ve decided to match clothes with Mammon?

How peculiar… well it definitely is an interesting fashion choice..

Does he like it? Oh it‘s fine.

No it’s not.

Why did you choose to match clothes with him?! I mean he’s a perfectly fine partner to match with!

Will try to show you how pissed he is but would rather die than actually tell you that he’s upset

He‘ll be more upset at Mammon too

He‘ll lash out on him more often

Would probably do it less if Mammon would stop gloating

He‘ll try to interfere subtly, like pointing out flaws in the outfit even though his fit isn’t really fashionable either

Oh you picked it out?

Well then the outfit is amazing!

Don’t you dare roll your eyes at him MC.

Since that doesn’t work he just strings Mammon on the ceiling

After that’s done he‘ll try to subtly hint that he wants to match outfits with you too..

Mammon

You wanna match outfits with him? Really?

This man is over the god damn moon

He would literally wear a frilly pink dress to school if it meant that he could match with you

Will show you his entire closet of outfits to let you pick out something

Would also clean his room if you asked him too

When you guys match he will literally be smug about it for the whole week

Like; my human matched with me, what about your suck ass love life

Will NOT shut up about it and will talk to literally anyone about how much you like him and how awesome he is and about how cute you are

When he senses his brothers envy he literally smirks with a face like; „you wish that was you huh“

He rubs it in so bad

But he is genuinely so happy that you wanted to match with him

Like even though Lucifer strung him upside down he was still smiling like a lovesick fool

when you walked in RAD together with your cute matching outfits he literally shined with confidence

His smile never left his face for the whole day

He even asked someone to take a picture of you two so he could always remember today

He has the picture as a print framed in his room and as his lockscreen

This outfit is his new all time favourite now and he wears it whenever he needs a confidence boost

Would 100% want to do matching outfits again

Leviathan

You matched outfits with Mammon?!?

That is literally so unfair

When you guys walked down together he literally whined

he knows you wouldn’t match with him, but Mammon?!?

Mammon‘s not even that fashionable!

Will literally say everything wrong with the outfit even pointing out irrelevant details

„The sowing is uneven and the button should be slightly more to the left oh and-!“

Wha- you picked it out! Oh shit

He didn’t mean it like that! Honest🤨

Will sulk

Everywhere.

Maybe if you feel enough pity you‘ll wear something else!

And maybe you might match with him..!?

Oh it’s hopeless, he‘ll just sit in his bathtub watching romance animes wondering why you didn’t pick him

More importantly why you chose MAMMON over him

Please match with this poor boy I don’t think he can take it

Satan

Huh..?

HUH?!

Why did you match with him?!?

What do you mean because you wanted to?!?

Unlike other people *cough cough* he doesn’t criticise your outfits

Instead he compliments it, being all sly like:

„Wow you have a great sense of fashion. Maybe you could style me next time?“

Will literally turn this little ‚inconvenience‘ into a way to get you to match with HIM

And you being all sweet will be like; sure Satan!

He‘s one sly mf I‘ll give him that..

Asmodeus

You should’ve matched with him sweetie

I mean he‘s wayyy more fashion forward than Mammon! Besides he won’t force you to match with him 🤨

Besides that outfit is atrocious!

What do you mean you chose the fit?!

What do you mean you WILLINGLY wanted to match with Mammon?!?!

Panics

He only meant it if it was Mammons selection!

Wait don’t be upset!

Is genuinely confused as to why you matched with Mammon

Tries to prove to you that he’s worthy of matching with you

When that doesn’t work he‘ll try to make you jealous

Yes MC look at me! I‘m matching with this random demon, don’t you wanna match with me now?!?!

What d‘you mean ,good‘ for me?!?

You‘re supposed to be jealous damnit!😩

Beelzebub

Isn‘t actually that disturbed by you matching with Mammon because he thinks it’s an accident

Typical sweet Beel

He just doesn’t understand the hype around two people wearing the same outfit on the same day

Then Asmo told him you guys matched purposefully

So you wanted to look like Mammon?

Why you look beautiful on your own?

He still doesn’t get it

Oh well

Maybe it’s better this way

You don’t need more people to hate on your outfit choice for no reason anyway

Belphegor

Absolutely despises it

And is very open about it too

“MC why did you match with Mammon, you could do so much better like matching with me”

Will try to convince you to change

Please MC!

You can’t cuddle with that outfit on..

When you don’t comply he sulks

Him and Levi= sulking buddies

Unlike Levi, will try to find a way to get Mammons or your outfit wet aka ruined so you have to change

When you get upset at his antics he will apologise and tell you how he wants to match with you as well

You feel bad and agree

He grins a happy smile

That doesn’t mean he won’t not be upset about you matching with Mammon till you match with him

All credits go to @belphieslavenderscentedpillow

#obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #levi x reader #om! leviathan #om! mammon #om! swd #om! lucifer #om! asmodeus #om! satan #om! mc #om! belphegor #om! beelzebub

[webslingingslasher]

ughhhh peter always being so oblivious. can’t even listen to his girlfriend when she’s right in front of him, practically begging him 😡 loved your most recent story 🩷🩷 (still can’t believe there’s finally a pink heart emoji)

was this supposed to be angsty? too bad, it's smutty.

*suggestive behavior and words, no real depictions of sex, sorry kiddos.

‘How do you tell someone you want them?’ No, no, wait… ‘How do you tell your boyfriend you want him?’ 

Wiki-how says to flirt with them, been there done that, message not received. 

Teen Vogue just wants to give you ways to say ‘I love you,’ you’ve tried that too, you just get a declaration back. 

Cosmopolitan says to be bold, ‘I want you inside of me,’ is a direct quote. Bold, sure. But with Peter? You’d think he’d collapse. 

On Quora someone took the bullet, ‘how do I let my boyfriend know I want him to touch me?’ Ah, there it was, someone had to have a good answer. A man in his forties says dirty talk, your nose wrinkles. A young mom says, ‘just like that!’ An anonymous reply said to initiate fist, touch them where you want to be touched, but you can’t exactly squeeze Peter’s boobs. 

You wonder if you told Ned he’d tell Peter, you can imagine that conversation. 

‘Bro, Y/N just told me she wants you to like… use her body as a wonderland.” 

“A what?” 

Yeah, not a good idea either. 

Even with a boyfriend, a super hot, charming, smart boyfriend, you were going to die a virgin. 

Every attempt has fallen short, no matter how close you think you are from him finally getting the hint. Last week you had him between your legs, wrapped tight around his hips as you grinded up towards him, mouths refusing to break. And then, right when he finally, finally, moved his hips with yours and you moaned he pulled away and rolled off of you. That quick too, talk about a cold shower. 

“Do you want me to show you how to do that thing now?” He was panting still, he looked over you flushed out and almost pulled himself back in, too dangerous, he had to use self control. Peter uses what strength he had to get off the bed, he’s already going to his computer, you didn’t get a choice, he chose for you, if he had asked you would’ve asked to ride his thigh. 

“I’d rather you show me what your hands could do,” you mumble under your breath, you want to scream into his pillow and then hump it, does he not feel how frustrated you are? Peter hears you, he gives a chuckle, “they can help you is what, come watch,” he pats his arm rest on the chair. 

You follow his instructions, still grumpy. “I’d rather they help me in a different way,” Peter flashes you a nervous smile, you make him lose his grip on reality. He makes sure you're watching as he clicks around, he’s giving you instruction but all you can think about is his hard thigh underneath you, his grip is tight around your waist, his palm that rests over your shirt radiates heat to the skin underneath. He’s driving you crazy. 

You can’t help it anymore, you have to be blunt, it will be awkward for a second but so, so worth it in the end. “Peter, I want to-” A squeeze, an apology when his phone rings. Only three people call him, Ned, May and you, seeing as you’re on his lap that leaves two options. 

“Hey, May. Oh yeah, no I don’t think so. Um, sure. Well, he didn’t say much but he did want, no, go ahead.” You look at the ceiling and curse, Peter’s thumb brushes your hip, he’s giving teasing touches and doesn’t even know it. “I dunno, hold on let me ask,” he pulls the phone from his ear, “baby?” You look at him, “staying for dinner?” You nod, he grins, “yeah she will… okay, yes ma’am, no problem. Okay, okay, okay, alright, okay, love you too, bye.” 

“Is she at the store?” 

“Yeah, think of anything you need?” 

He clicks at the screen, “yeah, condoms.” 

You jolt at his laugh, his chest pressed tight against your back, Peter snorts, “why would you need those?” 

You stay silent and instead look at the screen and wait for him to continue his lesson, the bubble of want simmering.

—-------------------------------------

“Are you okay?” 

Peter has to literally hold you back by your shoulders, he’s gasping for air, his curls frizzy and pulled around, his shirt unbuttoned three down from the top. You attacked him the second you got into his room, nearly throwing him onto the bed before straddling him and marking your territory. 

You had been at it for a half hour, everytime he tried to stop you’d follow his movements and continue, he had no idea how you were keeping your breath. The only time he remembers you pulling away was to tug your shirt over your head before you immediately unbuttoned his collar and kissed down his neck. 

“‘M great, are you?” you’re just as breathless as him. 

He nods, “‘M good.” 

You smile, “great!” Then go to meet his mouth, Peter turns his head at the last second, you connect with his jaw, you frown but accept any skin, you trail sideways and down, sucking at a spot near his collarbone. One hand grips your hip, one settles on your ribcage. He grunts and you skim your lips back to his mouth, he’s slower this time, like he’s trying to edge you down carefully, you don’t accept the change of rules and open into his mouth, he wont talk the bait. 

You try again, you swipe at his bottom lip, he stays closed. Frustrated you grind down on him, he buckles but refuses to open his own mouth, last resort you bite down on his lip. 

Peter pushes you off, “fuck, you’re insatiable.” 

You look down on him, “why won’t you make out with me?” 

His cheeks are pink, his lips are red and swollen, his pupils are blown out. 

“You’re killin me, smalls.” Peter’s hands come to a rest on his stomach, they rise and fall with his breaths, “no matter what I do you want more.” 

You nod enthusiastically, he’s starting to understand. 

“Yes, so yes. What can you give me?” 

His eyebrows furrow, he doesn’t know what you want. 

“I don’t… what do you want?” 

You grind down on his belt line, his hands shoot to your hips, this was new territory. You’ve just started to grind on him the past week and he still can’t fully process it, he’s never had a feeling like it before and he knows that he’s gonna get a hard on if you keep doing that, and that’s really new territory. 

“Baby,” he groans the word but it’s a warning. 

“This, can I have this?” You try to move again but his hold stops you, he’s using too much strength. 

Peter doesn’t want to rush you, not at all. But these last few weeks have been hard, you’ve been much more open with your words and touches and god it kills him. He’s been thinking about sex, how could he not with you all over him, but he needs to hold out strength for the both of you, and god damn if you don’t make that difficult. 

“If you keep doing that do you know what will happen?” 

Are you okay with this, is what he means, because if you go down this path there’s no coming back, it’s a whole new step, he’s okay with that but are you? 

You tilt your head at him, “I’ll cum?” 

Peter exhales through his nose harshly, his voice pinchy, “jesus christ.” 

“Is it okay if I take my bra off?” Your fingers were already behind your back, he’s been lucky enough to see them a few times but not in a situation like this one where he could get to inspect them and enjoy it. “If you want, but you don’t-” he stops speaking when you toss your bra to the ground. 

“Wanna take your pants off?” 

He looks at you, he’s fully clothed almost while you’re now sitting on top of him with only panties on, how did he get here? No pants means no more barriers, you wanted to feel him, all of him, when you dry humped him. 

“Do you want my pants off?” 

How does he not get it? You’re more than half naked on his lap begging for his touch, what did he think you wanted, a milkshake? 

“Peter, where’s your mind at?” 

“With what?” 

You rub your eyes, frustration would do no good here. “I need to know where you’re at with this, cause i’ve tried everything to make it known you make me really fucking horny.” His eyes widened, it was like he had a revelation of ‘girls can be horny too?’ and yeah, he did know that they could but he never imagined he could make someone horny, even if it was his girlfriend. And maybe he did understand a little of what you wanted but he also thought you were joking, that you were hinting at a hookup teasingly but, no you were serious. 

“I do?” 

Well that didn’t sound good, did he not share the same feelings? 

“I… Peter, do I even turn you on?”

The room spins, you’re on your back in a second, Peter holds your forearms to the bed. You couldn’t even take a breath in, that’s how quick he pinned you. He didn’t want you to think, for even a second, you didn’t turn him on. 

“Don’t ever ask that again, you turn me on more than you could even begin to imagine.” 

You giggle, “oh, do I? How much?” 

He kisses your cheek, “cold shower every time you leave.” 

“Then how come I never feel you get hard?” 

Peter takes his turn kissing down your neck, he nibbles a matching mark to his on your collarbone. “Threw you off before you could.” 

You hum when he nuzzles into your neck, he places a kiss to your cheek, you look at him over you. 

“Does that mean you’ll take off your pants?” 

He laughs, “yeah, baby. I’ll take off my pants.” 

Peter sits back to pull his shirt off, you take a moment to appreciate his body. You always feel like you don’t compliment him enough, “you’re pretty,” the words fall from your lips and he grins shyly, his hands working at pants button, he’s about to shimmy them off but you stop him. 

“Wait!” 

Peter’s hands freeze, you nod at his hands, “can I do it?” 

His hands fall away and you reach forward, tension thick the second you start to undress him. You never knew how heavy a moment could be until you had your hands in your boyfriend's waistline tugging them down, knowing it was so you could sit pretty on top of him and rock on his lap. 

You rope a leg over his waist and take mount, already pressing into him further than you’ve ever been, you give a teasing roll of your hips, your eyes shoot open and Peter throws his head back with a groan. 

You whisper at the same time, minds blown. “Woah.” 

#peter parker x reader #peter parker blurb #tasm! peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #my writing

[teojira]

[Caesar and Proximus' day to day life] [headcanons]

Summary: You're a human companion to the two apes, this is little things to expect as you live with them and in addition, the rest of the apes.

Word count: 900+

Warnings: None that I can think of! This is mostly platonic, some romance in Caesars if you squint.

Pronouns: Not specified.

A/N: first Planet of the apes request!! I'm so excited, shoutout to the other writers on ao3 I've looked up to for years. I hope this is okay anon! I couldn't reference back to your ask since I lost it and I hope this is the general idea you were hoping for 💀🙏

[Caesar]

For the sake of this, Caesar did NOT die at the end of war, and you're immune to the disease! (Nova is also fine here bc fuck you that's my daughter)

Truth be told it was very very very fortunate for you that you appealed to his good side after all this time, He's tired.

Tired of being hurt, tired of losing family, but he has no choice but to push on, when you offered at first to help him with any injuries or issues that arise in the colony, it's a firm no.

Despite everything he's been through, Caesar does love humans, he think a part of him always will, so just keep trying and you will crack his shell.

Once you two finally have something akin to friendship, is when he finally learns that he can rely on you.

It isn't uncommon to see you holding Cornelius and walking to and from different parts of the colony, Caesar trying in vain to tell you to let the boy down, saying you'll start to spoil him (it's too late, Cornelius will start to go to you for when his dad tells him no.)

Caesar doesn't really think he'd ever find another mate, but without his notice, you start to fill in that role.

Spending the most time with him, helping him make decisions, taking care of Cornelius, helping the other apes learn and sign, you take on the role fairly well.

It isn't uncommon for you to tend to his wounds, he prefers to go to you versus the others, he acts akin to a child when in your care though, hissing dramatically when you rub a salve on his forearm. It results in you slapping his shoulder and it makes him laugh.

Speaking of laughing, he never thought having you around would lighten the weight of the world he constantly holds over his shoulders, you make him feel young again. Before all of this.

He grows fonder of you when he sees some aspects of Caroline in you, noting just how loving and caring you are not only to him, but to everyone, Maurice, Rocket, even Bad ape with how much of an odd ball he is.

Caesar may be the leader (and old, you remind him. He ignores you.) but it doesn't mean he can stay at the colony all day, he goes out to hunt with the others, and when he does, he'll come to you and do a palms up, waiting for your permission.

He doesn't need it, but it makes you feel better when you see him off.

Maybe this is me projecting but he is SO possessive of you, he's lost so much, he lost Buck, Luca, Blue eyes, Cornelia, Koba, Will, his grandfather.

It puts him on the defense, never wanting you to go anywhere without at least one ape to protect you. It'll lead to arguments you Will not win.

Sorry if you just want to go to the river to wash up, either he's coming with you or Rocket is. Too Bad so sad.

Other apes come to you to ask you to ask Caesar if they can do something they Know he would never approve of, it's because they know out of everyone here, with the exception of a handful of apes, you're his soft spot.

Many apes were concerned with you joining them, but you've earned your spot among them, you are loved and trusted.

Koba would be rolling in his grave, seeing you work alongside Caesar, being a genuinely good person and a loving companion.

[Proximus]

It's canon that Proximus has a fondness for humans, but it's so severely different than Caesars, no matter how much he claims to be like the former.

You're more so of a toy to him, similar to Trevathan, but while he reads the Bonobo literature and teaches him things, you're like a pet. You keep him entertained.

This isn't to say he treats you cruelly though, all things considered, you're taken care of fairly well with a lot of luxuries the other apes under his rule are not privy to.

You wear a collar, which is demeaning, but it is better than having a chain connected to it, so everyone knows you're his.

Poor Sylva being forced to be your guard when you ask if you can go walking alone the beach, he doesn't want to do it but he WILL (he becomes fond of you begrudgingly, partially out of respect for Proximus but you're too nice for your own good, asking him how his day is going and whatnot. He hates you.)

Proximus calls you pet, btw. He knows your name but will only use it when it's the two of you or for special occasions.

Brings you out into the colony to show you all the progress being made, he's looking for his ego to be inflated, go ahead and do it so you two can head back inside and get out of the heat.

He likes to show you off while he does, telling his subjects that you're special, like Nova was to Caesar. He's delusional and Caesar would be fucking pissed to be compared.

He doesn't need you to do much honestly, you're meant to sit there and look pretty and make him feel important. Maybe help him out with grooming and taking care of his belongings. He trusts you to mend and keep his crown and his attire in good condition.

Likes to play with your hair, the texture is different than apes, and he finds it soothing to run his fingers through it or just pet your head. Once again, it is very demeaning, but it could be worse.

Like Caesar, he is possessive and will try and limit your contact with the others in fear you'll like them more. Your little trio consists of you, himself, and Sylva. He lets you interact with Trevathan, but it's not an everyday thing.

He does care for you more than he'd ever admit, but it doesn't mean he'll particularly change for your sake, at least not intentionally. He's kinda insane and kinda a piece of shit, and you're aware of this.

Makes you sit next to him when he hosts dinners, making sure to pat your head and coo at you (When Noa first sees you at the table getting treated like how he'd treat an eagle, he gives you one of his signature side eyes bc lmao what the fuck is going on)

When it comes down to the ending of the movie when he dies, you're at a loss, Mae frankly thinks you're too far gone, and Noa is not willing to take a chance to offer you a home.

All you have really left to do is to go back to the colony and what's left of it, back to the remaining apes and humans still left unattended. Telling them they're free to go.

At some point among the years of being the closest to Proximus, you do care for him, and it's hard to think he's gone, he offered you a sense of security and belonging, but it's gone now.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴏɴ!

#heres the apes post lets see if anyone unfollows me /j #i dont care i warned on the pin LMAO #teddy loves apes ☆ #planet of the apes x reader #planet of the apes #pota #kotpota #planet of the apes caesar #kingdom of the planet of the apes Proximus Caesar #Proximus Caesar #Caesar

[laviefantasie]

When Emma Falls In Love…

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Summary: If there was one thing Satoru was thankful for, it was you.

| Masterlist |

They say it is incredibly rare to find someone that cares about you without another agenda. One that wants to see you achieves your hopes and dreams. One that encourages you to grow and is right by your side throughout each and every mess. One who does not define love with an ‘if’ or a ‘because’, but with an ‘in spite for’ and an ‘even though’. One that is brave enough to love unconditionally, without ever expecting anything in return; one that just gives.

The world has approximately 8 billion people in it and yet, to love or be loved unconditionally is a once in a blue moon occurrence.

Y/L/N Y/N knew this.

She has always known that love is a serendipity. Something fortuitous. She has always known that it is the greatest curse of all; that loving is giving the other person a gun and have them point it at you, allowing them to decide if you live or die.

Yet, she has also always known that everything that can be considered a curse can be considered a blessing, all depends on the point of view.

So, Y/N has never closed herself off to the idea of love. But she has never looked for it either.

To be honest, even if she wanted to look for it (which she doesn’t) she wouldn’t have the opportunity (nor the choice) to do so. Not when she was a Jujutsu Sorcerer from the Y/L/N clan. Not when she was the heiress of said clan.

She didn’t have choices when it came to trivial things like love. She was set to marry as soon as she graduates to start producing another heir, to make sure to pass her family’s curse technique. She had always known this. She had always been taught about it.

So… why was this happening now?

Why was she ignoring Yaga-sensei’s lesson to stare at her white-haired doofus childhood friend/classmate?

And why was her heart beating so loud?

A paper ball hits the back of her head, startling her. Turning in her seat, Y/N meets the nonchalant eyes of her best friend, Ieiri Shoko. Said girl gestures with her eyes to the paper on the floor, so with a fleeting glance at her teacher Y/N bends to pick it up.

[ Why are you staring at Tweedledee over there? ]

Y/N winces slightly as soon as she reads the message. Hurrying to hide it in her notebook, even if there was no one close enough to read it.

Damn Shoko and her intuition.

Deciding to ignore her best friend, Y/N stares straight ahead at her teacher. Physically restraining herself every single time her eyes dared to try to gaze at her white-haired friend.

When class finally ends, Y/N tries to pick her stuff up as soon as possible, hoping to be able to outrun her curious best friend.

But, of course, she was naive for thinking she could.

“Someone’s in a hurry” Shoko’s unbothered sweet voice states from her side, “Wonder why”

Y/N closed her eyes in defeat before opening them to look at the amused eyes of her best friend.

“Now, will you answer my—?”

“Y/N!”

The loud and excited voice of the boy Y/N had spend most of the class staring at startled them both. And soon they are joined by their two other classmates.

The problematic duo. The strongest boys: Tweedledum and Tweedledee, known also as Geto Suguru and Gojo Satoru.

The white-haired beauty rests his arm on Y/N’s shoulder as soon as he comes to her side, Geto mimicking his actions with Shoko. Both of them smirking.

“What are you girls whispering about?” Satoru asks with amusement, “Is it about me?”

Shoko scoffs, “In your dreams”

“How’d you know?”

Geto rolls his eyes, “Ignore him. We wanted to ask you both if you wanted to go to Tokyo, there’s this cafe we want to try”

“Sure” Y/N nods, “We should ask Nanami and Haibara if they want to join us”

Satoru groans loudly as soon as the words leave her mouth, and pushes most of his body weight onto her, making her almost lose her balance.

“I refuse”

Suguru lets out a big laugh after his best friend’s words while Shoko only looks totally amused, as if she had already expected that.

Y/N, on the other hand, looks at Satoru with a frown.

“You refuse? Why would you refuse?”

“Because”

“What do you mean ‘because’?”

“Because”

Y/N narrows her eyes before looking at her other friends for answers, but both of them just smile at her, totally amused by the scene happening in front of them.

“One reason. Give me one reason and I’ll agree”

Satoru shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t like sharing”

“Huh?”

Satoru doesn’t wait for her to try to decipher his statement, instead he grabs her bag before pushing her so she starts walking.

“You said to give you a reason, there it is” he pushes her once more “Now, move”

She does as told, even when her mind still works to try to understand what he said. Either way, as soon as they are all out of their school’s barrier said statement is forgotten. After-all, Satoru had always said vague things like that to her ever since they met, nothing worth frying her brain for.

Okay, something was really wrong with her. Not only had she spent all of last month staring at Gojo Satoru every single day whenever he was close, but now she was glaring at said boy while he flirted with a non-sorcerer.

Why the hell was she glaring? Why was she even looking at them? Satoru flirting wasn’t a new occurrence, on the contrary, it was a daily event. For Satoru flirting was as natural and as necessary as breathing, so why was she so bothered by it right now? It’s not as if she had never witnessed it before, so why did it mattered now?

Why was her chest aching so annoyingly? Why did she feel so nauseous when she had barely touched her food? Why couldn’t she drift her gaze away from them?

Y/N clenched her hands shut, forcing herself to look at her food. Why was it so hard to do something as simple as that? Why did her chest hurt enough that she had to remind herself to do something as natural as breathing?

“Not hungry?”

She moves her gaze from her food to the reason behind her inner turmoil who had finally seemed to remember he came here with her, not with the pretty blonde non-sorcerer he was just speaking to.

“Uh…” she fleetingly looks at her untouched full plate, “Not really”

Satoru frowns, “Do you feel okay?”

Breathe in. Breathe out, she reminds herself.

Why was it that she suddenly felt like crying? Was it because he was looking at her with such sincere worry? Or was it because he had lowered his round sunglasses to really look at her with those mesmerizing blue eyes so he could make sure she was okay?

What was wrong with her?

"Uh—I…Jus—Can we go back?" she stammers, "I don't feel really good"

Satoru’s frown deepens, but he nods and soon both of them are making their way back to their school. In complete silence.

As soon as Y/N makes it back to the security of her dorm, she doesn’t waste a single second. She hurries to lock her door and to close her blinds, grabbing her phone as fast as possibly and dialing her mother’s number.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

She needed answers or she would lose her mind, and the only person who she knew could give her those was the one she trusted the most: her mom.

“Honey?” She hears her mom’s sweet and soft voice as she answers, “You good? You never call”

“I…”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Something is wrong” she whispers.

“What’s going on?”

What was going on? That was a hard question. And so she explained, as best as she could. And her mom listened, silently and patiently. Never interrupting her, even when she was stammering and rambling all over the place.

As the words leave her lips in hurried whispers, her feet pace around her room anxiously.

“Oh, honey”

Maybe it was the understanding in her mother’s voice or maybe the softness in her pet name, but it was then that she understood.

“I’m not in love”

But, oh, how ironic. It was the moment the words left her mouth, the moment she tried to convince her mom (or maybe herself) of it, that she understood it.

She was in love with one of her best friends.

Her feet stop pacing. Her heart stops beating. Her breath slows down and her knees tremble. All adrenaline leaving her abruptly.

She has to force herself to move to her bed so she can sit before her body gives up on her.

“Oh” she whispers, “Oh”

“Yeah, oh” her mom responds, “So, the one blessed with the six eyes?”

“Satoru” she whispers as a reflex, used to having to remind a lot of sorcerers around them that Satoru is more than just that.

“Satoru” her mom repeats, “What is he like now? I haven’t seen him in a long time”

“Uh, well… he is something else, definitely” she whispers softly, “He is kind and loyal. Also funny. Although, he has a huge ego… uh, he—kinda a womanizer”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“He is a womanizer” she repeats, as if reminding herself, “Never one to settle down. Gets bored pretty easily of people. Things he’s above all that—romance, I mean. He’s not really serious about anything, so commitment is out of the question. Doesn’t really trust people with his feelings, so that’d be a problem, right? And—”

“Honey,” her mom interrupts, “sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself about how this could end up going wrong without even trying first”

Huh.

So that’s what she’s doing.

Everything changed after the call with her mom. Everything changed once she finally understood what was truly going on with her. How could it not when she was never one to hide her feelings? Always wearing her heart on her sleeve, never knowing how to hide the light in her e/c eyes.

Everyone noticed and she constantly scolded herself for it. Yet, she couldn’t help it.

She couldn’t stop herself from looking at Satoru as if he hung in the air like the stars in outer space, brighter than the moon itself. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling every time their eyes met nor the way her eyes lit up.

But just as she couldn’t stop herself from expressing how she felt, Satoru couldn’t force himself to reciprocate her feelings.

Satoru had never been one to believe in love. He, as she did, believed love to be the worst curse of them all. But, contrary to her belief, he could never even think of the possibility of it being a blessing. So, even when his attitude towards her never change, there was this new wall built between them that kept her far enough to never reach his heart.

She didn’t need to confess for him to know her feelings.

He didn’t need to reject her for her to know his.

They had always been close, since the moment they met when they were six. They had always understood each other without the need to explain themselves, and maybe it was because of the way their cursed techniques were interlaced but it didn’t matter to them.

Both always knew where the other stood.

Y/N knew Satoru wasn’t ready for the love she felt for him. Didn’t even know if he’d ever be ready for it. But she had no intention of falling in love with anyone else, at least not at the moment. So, whenever he’s ready, she’d be there.

He was her first love. He had forever changed her and she knew no matter how hard she tried, that wouldn’t go away.

So, for now, she was content with how little he gave her. She was content with how careful he was with her feelings even when he had no intention of reciprocating them.

So, when did everything change?

There were only four known special grade sorcerers so far in Japan: Tsukumo Yuki, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, and Y/L/N Y/N. Although Tsukumo is not associated with Jujutsu High, so the only sorcerers that Yaga would entrust a mission as important as the one of the Star Plasma Vessel are the three special grades in his care.

“Escort the vessel and erase her?” Satoru asks.

Geto and Y/N share a look before focusing once again on their teacher, who confirms the mission. Not even a second later, Suguru and Satoru start whispering about Yaga losing his mind making the only girl present roll her eyes.

By the end of the conversation, the three best friends were on babysitting duty of the girl meant to reset master Tengen’s cursed technique.

Y/N receives her cold black tea from Satoru’s hands before they start making their way once again to the location of the Star Plasma Vessel, all while Suguru tries to answer each of Satoru’s questions.

“Anyways, it should be okay” Satoru shrugs, “We’re the strongest”

Y/N scoffs a laugh, while Suguru sighs and tries to explain to Satoru how he should start dialing down his narcissistic tendencies.

“Sheesh, give me a break” Satoru groans, “Y/N likes me the way I am, right?”

Her eyes widen and a blush soon makes home in her cheeks, making her turn her face away from him to avoid his amused smile.

“Uh—I…”

An explosion saves her from answering, although she isn’t sure she’d rather deal with that. Maybe that’s when everything started truly going downhill.

It didn’t take long for the three of them to take action and defeat the Q workers, saving the girl they learned was Amanai Riko. The young girl was a firecracker that had made Y/N laugh after she slapped Satoru and insulted Suguru. Maybe things would’ve been better if she hadn’t been so innocent and likable; if she hadn’t been so young and pure.

But things hadn’t been better. Honestly, things couldn’t have gone more wrong.

She wishes they’d stayed in Okinawa. All of them had been so at peace there. All of them had so much fun. They had gone to the beach after rescuing Amanai’s caretaker, where Satoru had run to the water with Y/N on his grasps while ignoring her screams. They had eaten and joked around before going to the aquarium.

Maybe she should’ve stopped Satoru from staying awake that night, maybe she should’ve made him rest for some time instead of deciding to make him company before falling asleep on his shoulder. Maybe then things would’ve been different.

But Y/N had done none of that and now she was staring at the consequences.

Satoru was just stabbed in front of her, just after they crossed the barrier around Jujutsu High that protected them.

Y/N had never wanted more to fully dominate her cursed technique. Never had she ever wanted to understand the depth behind the intricate time manipulation cursed technique her family possessed that made them the Gojo clan’s greatest ally. She possessed one of the most powerful known cursed techniques, one that could make her an equal to Satoru, yet she had never truly bothered with anything below the surface.

Not even when her father had explained to her the greatness she was destined to achieve. Not when, like Satoru, her birth had change the world.

She had never wanted to be exceptional, she had always just wanted to be strong enough to protect those she loved. Acquiring her cursed techniques full depth came with a great sacrifice. One she had never been willing to pay.

But now?

Now she’d pay the price without a second thought. What did it matter if she’d have to suffer through the pain of her eyes bleeding until her irises and pupils turned completely white? What did it matter if her lifetime shall shorten with every time she fooled destiny? What would it matter if she’d have to live with the possibility of losing her mind at any moment, never distinguishing the difference between the past, the present or the future again?

She would do it. She would do it without a second thought if that meant not staring at Satoru in the eyes as he orders her to follow Suguru, to leave him behind, as he bleeds.

She shakes her head.

She wasn’t leaving him, not with whoever that man was. She could feel he was dangerous, she didn’t know how she knew it but she did.

Y/N would never forgive herself if she left him behind.

“You have to trust me, Y/N” Satoru’s smile softens, “Trust me”

She shouldn’t have turned around, but she did. She trusted him with her life, so she had to trust him with his own.

She’d never trust him like that again.

Blood flows from her mouth as she lays face down on the floor, wounds all over her body as Fushiguro Toji stares down at her.

“So this is the Y/L/N pride” he murmurs, “Aren’t you supposed to be strong? The Gojo’s Six Eyes biggest ally or something like that? That’s the story, isn’t it? The space and time techniques are supposed to coexist with one another according to the legend of the Six Eyes and the Blind One, am I wrong?”

Y/N coughs out blood, her gaze blurring.

“At least he put up a fight” he scoffs, “You were doing so well until I told you I killed him”

She flinched at the reminder, making him scoff once again.

“The Blind One that sees all” he scoffs in disbelief, “What a joke. Let’s end this here, agree?”

He stabs her once more, forcing her to cough out even more blood before forcing the blade to go from her lower back to the back of her neck.

“You’re no threat with how little control you have over your cursed technique” he murmurs, “but waiting for you to become one is not an option. It was to meet you, let’s never do this again”

She tried to stay awake, tried to remember everything Shoko had ever taught her about reverse cursed technique, but her mind was too out of it to form any coherent thought. Maybe that was how she was meant to die, after all her life had always been intertwined in a way with Satoru’s, so if he was gone what was the point of her being there at all?

Her eyes closed, yet she kept breathing.

Her mind was fuzzy, yet like a mantra the names of every single person she loved repeated themselves over and over again.

That’s when she felt it happen.

Her eyes open wide and a painful scream, strong enough to tear her vocal cords, left her body. Blood started pouring out of her eyes as the e/c and black in them starts being burnt away as if the water in her eyelids was acid.

She had never felt pain like this. It felt as if her eyes were being stabbed by a hundred needles over and over again. And when it finally stopped, and her body started healing herself once again, she understood every word her father had ever uttered to her about their powerful cursed technique.

So this is what it means to be blessed and cursed. To give more time as you lose your own. She had felt herself dying, yet her own cursed technique sent her body back in time, to when she hadn’t yet been hurt. Even as hours of her future self were taken from her for cheating death, she could still see it. It was crystal clear in her mind, as if it was a scene she had seen in a movie.

So that’s what her father meant when he told her she could lose herself to the past, the present, the future, and all its endless possibilities?

That was meant to be her world from now on.

“Y/N”

She blinks once. Twice. Thrice. Before pushing herself to a kneeling position so she could move her gaze to the source. It wasn’t real, it couldn’t be.

Yet it was. She knew it. It wasn’t one of the possibilities on the multiverses she could see.

Even with her eyesight lost, she could sense his cursed technique. He could visualize him by the way his cursed technique lit up his body shape.

He was here. He was alive.

“Stand up” he tells her, “ Amanai is dead. We failed”

Her knees tremble as she forces herself to stand. How could he be so calm? How could his voice sound so devoid of emotion? She wishes she could truly see him, she always used to know what he was feeling with just one look.

Things were gonna be different now.

It started with little changes. First, Y/N had to return to her clan immediately to train her technique. She had to learn to control what she saw before frying her brain. She had to also learn to dominate reverse curse technique.

She wasn’t just a normal time cursed user like the rest of her clan, it wasn’t just freezing or slowing your opponent anymore. A touch from her could now age, could kill. A touch from her could now rebirth, could save.

She was now a weapon. A shield. More importantly, she was the strongest right hand. Space and time always cohabiting with each other.

When she finally came back to school, everything had already changed too much and she couldn’t even bother herself with adapting to the changes, too trouble by the different dreams of the different future outcomes. Of all the choices that hadn’t yet been made but could be, of all their consequences.

She didn’t remember the last time she had spent some time with her best friends, the only person she spent time with lately being Satoru. Satoru, who for some reason she didn’t bother to analyze, always seek her when he finally had time off from a mission. Never leaving her side unless he really had to.

All of them had forever been changed after their failed mission. So, when was it enough?

She hadn’t been there to see Suguru slowly start to lose himself, too focused on Satoru and herself to notice the little clues laid in front of her of the future she had seen yet refused to believed.

Then, she had seen Haibara’s dead body.

She tried to stop it then. Hoping, wishing, it wasn’t too late. She had run to him that night, meeting him on the courtyard of their school as he smoked the night away.

“Please don’t”

He didn’t look at her. Barely inhaled a smoke before letting his gaze fall from the moon, as if its light was too much for him.

“I don’t know what you’ve seen, but I’m not planning anything”

“I know you’re not” she whispers “but I also know what you’ll see. Please don’t leave us behind”

His dark saddened eyes turn to look at her, really look at her and her breath hitches. One of the things she loathes about being able to see the past is the new perspectives she has of those around her. She had always been living her life as the Earth, always rotating around her sun. Never bothering to look at the moon, that always rotated around her.

Satoru was her sun, but Suguru had quietly always been her moon. And she had never once noticed before.

While she was too busy staring lovestruck at Satoru, Suguru had stared at her. But he had always been selfless, and he has always been happy with just gazing from afar, just like she was always happy only staring at Satoru.

This new depth in her technique made it painfully obvious for her the softness in which he gazed at her, even with all the sadness and conflict he carried in them he could still gaze at her with that particular softness. It made her heart ache.

“I would never leave you behind”

It sounded like a promise to anybody else, but to her it was like a blade to her heart. It was one more step to the future she so wanted to avoid.

She sat by his side that night, giving him the comfort of her presence.

On September, he went on the mission to exorcise a spirit to blame for the mysterious deaths and disappearances on a village.

That day he killed 112 villagers. On that day, he was sentenced to execution on sight as a curse user.

She was the first one to arrive when Shoko called, and the smile he gave her was all she needed to confirm her greatest fear. Her heart bled once she saw the soften in his gaze as he saw her, never wavering.

“I’m sorry I have to leave you behind” he whispered once they were far enough from Shoko, “I don’t want to, but I know you won’t follow me”

“We can fix this. I can fix this”

She could. She had the power to. She would do it if he asked, even if it cost her half of her lifetime.

“I don’t want you to” he whispered softly, “I want you to live a long and full life, not to sacrifice it for my own choices”

“You promised…”

“I know, that’s my only regret” he smiled, “You look beautiful. You are beautiful, I’m sorry I never said it before”

“Suguru…”

Both of them stopped as soon as they felt the curse energy of the only one missing from their group.

“Explain yourself, Suguru”

His smile faltered. He looked at her one last time, softly and full of adoration.

“Don’t let him hurt you” he whispered, “Thank you for everything”

And then, Suguru turned around to face his best friend before leaving them all behind. Before leaving everything he once believed in behind.

“What are you doing here?”

It was around 2 am when a knock on your door had woken you up, the last thing you had expected was to see Satoru’s aura on the other side. Since Suguru’s departure your best friend had started going to even more missions then before, making it impossible for you to actually see him for more than a few minutes.

You hadn’t really expected to see him soon, much less at the current time.

“May I come in?”

His tone is low, with no hint of a joke in it, which makes you open your door wide enough for him to cross without hesitating in the slightest.

Honestly, he could ask anything from you and you’d give it to him. No questions asked.

She feels him move to the middle of her room as she closes the door, his feet drawing circles on the floor showing the anxiety he must be feeling.

“I didn’t know you were back”

“I just came” he murmurs, “I’m sorry for barging in, I just—I needed to see you”

Y/N’s breath hitches and her heart throbs loudly in her chest. It was weird, the feeling of drowning that she had become so familiar with was slowly disappearing, as if just the sound of his voice was enough to remind her how to swim. Enough to help her breathe again.

She had been alone all this time. Shoko had been dealing with the abandonment in her own way by herself, only coming to her when the loneliness became too much. When that happened, Y/N had to ignore her own broken pieces to help hold those of her best friend. And once she was sure Shoko was well enough to go back to her own cave, she was left alone to take on both of their pain to bear it all by herself.

She wasn’t one to walk away, not unless she absolutely had to leave. But all she had needed all this time was to hear Satoru’s voice to remember the strength she possessed.

“You wanna lay down?”

He sees his aura move towards her bed, making her know he agreed to her suggestion.

With a deep breath, Y/N moves to join him. It wasn’t the first time they had ever slept on the same bed, they had tons of sleepovers as kids.

But this was different. They were older and wiser. They knew pain firsthand now. They also knew what the other really meant to one another, and how precious each moment together truly was. How ephemeral everything could be.

So as Satoru pulled her closer to him as he hugged her from behind, both of them felt the tension they had been carrying leave their bodies.

After so long, Satoru finally felt at peace once again. The void that had been his heart all this time felt completed. He could finally breathe without feeling something pushing against his chest.

That was the first time in a while he truly slept.

There truly was no reason for Y/N to love him, so Satoru didn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky. After Haibara’s death and Suguru’s betrayal, after Nanami’s abandonment, Satoru truly didn’t think he was someone worth staying for.

But Y/N never once left his side. Never even thought about it. It didn’t matter that she had spent ten years loving him without even a glimpse of him reciprocating said feelings, she had stayed.

He loved her, he truly did. He just didn’t know what being in love meant or felt like, so he couldn’t say he was in love with her. All he knew, as he stared at her right now while she said her goodbye to Yuta, was that knowing her had changed his whole world.

He had once asked her a few years back why she loved him. She had stayed quiet for a few minutes before finally answering in her soft voice that she reserved just for him.

“You just know. There doesn’t have to be a particular reason. I don’t think you need a reason to love someone, your heart chooses them before your mind even has a say. It’s something you can’t really control, it just takes over you. It hits you when you least expect it. You feel alive, you feel better; I don’t think it’s something anybody will truly understand, and they don’t have to. It’s not something meant to be understood by others, only by your heart”

He hadn’t said anything after her. Hadn’t even smiled or nodded. All he had done was stare at her and repeat every single word in his mind over and over again, until they had been engraved in his memory.

Those words were repeated like a mantra whenever he needed something to give him hope, something to fight for.

Those words along with the memories of the hundreds of nights they looked for refugee in each other’s arms were the inhaler that helped him breathe. He had never truly known what a real home felt like until she had held him with so much care, care he hadn’t ever truly known; care that made him feel like a kid needing to be cared for instead of the strongest everybody expected him to be.

He was grateful for her. For every time she made him feel loved and appreciated. For every moment she stared at him as if he was the moon and the stars and the whole galaxy. For helping him raise Tsumiki and Megumi without ever complaining about it. For helping him mend his broken heart even when the broken pieces scarred her hands until they bled.

He didn’t know if he was in love with her, he just knew that he did love her with all his heart and soul.

And as she finally started walking towards him after letting go of Yuta, with her bright smile that made her whitened eyes crinkle, it finally hit him. She was the person he wanted to come home to every night. The person he wants to tell about his day. The person to share his happiness, his sadness, his success and his failures with.

Everything was better with her. Everything had been better since her, because of her.

She who had loved the parts of him that were not easy to love. For turning the pages in his book gently, and helping him rewrite a happy ending to his tragic narrative.

Y/N was like a book the you couldn’t put down once you pick it up. The kind of girl that would make every bad boy turn good. A shelter for his heart when it rained. A breath of fresh air whenever he felt like drowning.

She was everything and so much more and he truly didn’t know how to tell her. He was never good at expressing how he felt, he was of an acts of service guy. So how could he show you how much you truly meant to him? How much he really needed you? How much he loved you?

“…ru. Satoru. Satoru!” His gaze snaps towards you, seeing you look at him with amusement, “I’ve been calling you nonstop. A penny for your thoughts?”

Don’t ever stop smiling at me. Don’t ever stop looking at me. Don’t ever leave me.

“Ready to go home?”

He can see the confused frown on her face, but her smile is never wiped and that gives him hope of her understanding the underlying message on his words.

Home was wherever she was. So wherever she went, he would follow. He wanted to go home with her, because he wanted to hold her and never let her go. He wanted to be the reason for her smiles and the ones she chose to share her laughs with.

He wanted everything.

“Let’s go home, ‘toru”

He may have been cursed since birth, but it was all worth it if he had you.

[[ Really not my best work but my first Gojo One-Shot. Hope you all like it! I’m open to requests. Thank you for reading!!]]

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x oc #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader

[darylbae]

hi new tumblr writer :3

I would give anything for vampire daryl (perhaps gender neutral pronouns)

smut, angst, fluff, idc. just give me vampire daryl (please)

pretty little thing — daryl dixon 🩰

in which vamp!daryl finds you in the woods, but doesn't have it in him to feed on you

note: im new to vamp!daryl so this will be very short, however if you like it i can make more!!

Daryl has had urges. Urges to feed, urges that are biologically something he can't help. He's always had these urges, since before the world fell apart, however it was easier to maintain back then. Now, with resources being limited, it was harder. It was even harder to keep this from the people around him. Nothing tasted like human blood. No deer, squirrel, or rabbit would ever taste as good as a human.

Daryl would wake up early to feed, and go to bed later than the rest of the group. He'd managed to hide it well, nobody had questioned him yet. Even when the people they'd butt heads with would disappear and no longer be an issue. Blood on him, on anyone, wasn't out of the ordinary anymore. It was another early morning, Daryl had his crossbow slung on his arm. He walked with purpose, not having fed on any human in a while was making him ravenous. His boots crunched on the leaves as he left the rest of the group, finally getting into the woods to look for something filling. With his heightened hearing, he couldn't hear much. Couldn't smell anything close by. So it would be a long journey ahead of him.

He'd trekked through almost half the woods now, after picking up a sound a while ago, he believed to be getting closer to it. He growled to himself, just wanting the metallic taste sat on his tongue again. It had been so long. There it was again. That sound. That faint whimper in the distance. He'd picked up speed, trying to be light on his feet, but it was no use. He needed it. Now. There you were, clutching a tree with tears rolling down your face. You were a treat. He'd approached you, and of course you were apprehensive, like all smart girls were. But you were so desperate, that you'd reached out for him. "Please..." You yelped, putting all of your weight onto him, "my leg, it hurts." Daryl held your waist, looking down at the blood sliding down your leg. Like a warm chocolate drizzle on a cake, you looked good enough to feast on. Daryl noticed you had only shorts on, not entirely practical for the world you live in, and a jacket with a utility vest wrapped around you. Boots too, great choice. He could smell you, so sickly sweet. "Aren't you a pretty, little thing?" You looked up at him, brows tilted upwards and pure innocence in your eyes. "What happened?" He asked, pushing you backwards gently to lean on the tree behind you. He'd brushed some hair away from your face, before slowly bending down to be level with your wound. A gash on your thigh, not deep enough to be fatal, but needed to be wrapped up. The smell of you, of your blood, was getting to him. He needed it, more than he needed air in his lungs. But he couldn't. Usually his impulses were impossible to control, he'd be onto a human before he could even blink, but you... He wanted to enjoy you, he didn't have the heart to hear you cry again, because of him. He'd dragged his thumb up a line of blood that had trailed down your leg, bringing it to his mouth to enjoy. You were so out of it from blood loss that you hadn't even picked up on it. And if you did, you were past caring. You were still crying, as he'd stood back up, his height very much towering over you. "I need t'wrap it up," he stated, his eyes trained on the curve of your neck. The perfect space to have a little taste. "Ya gonna to have t'come back with me." You just nodded. You were probably going to bleed out, so either way you'd die. So you were betting on this man being good. "Want me to carry ya?" He asked, and you nodded, unable to put any pressure on your leg. Smirk plastered to his face, he inched closer to you. He was breathing you in, slowly feeling himself becoming addicted to your scent. He wanted to have you around, to enjoy you more. He'd have to feed another way.

#vamp!daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagines #twd daryl dixon

[queenie-ofthe-void]

S2.5 AU || ~2k words || rating: teen || cws: mentions of past homophobic slurs, childhood neglect

AU where Max and her Mom move to the trailer park immediately following the events of S2. It's part of a long-term WIP, but this chapter got off course so I'm posting it as a stand-alone for now.

“Fucking, Christ,” Eddie mumbles as he drags himself from his warm bed. It’s almost four in the morning, much too early on a Saturday for someone to be bothering him. Yet the knocking’s persistent, the noise growing louder and impatient as he throws a sweatshirt on. Wayne had warned him it’d be a cold night– because yeah Wayne, it’s December– but not a goddamned ice age. The space heaters are barely cutting it. He can’t imagine anyone being out in this weather unless they didn’t have a choice.

Eddie yanks the door open to find the Mayfield girl, fist hitting him in the stomach mid-knock. It doesn’t hurt but he still makes a show of it. He’s nothing if not a patron saint of the arts. “Oof Little Red, I think you left a bruise,” he grunts as he crumples forward onto the door frame. 

“Right, sure,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes. Now that Eddie’s closer, he can see the pale tint to her skin and the red flush on her nose and cheeks. She’s layered in multiple sweatshirts with a Hawkins Middle knit cap covering her ears, grey Hawkins Tigersharks sweatpants, and a stuffed backpack slung over one shoulder. Red doesn’t really look like the school-spirit kind of kid. But she does look cold.

“Want to come in?” Eddie asks. She’s barreling past him before he can finish, plopping herself down on the living room floor in front of the space heater. He moves to take the chair next to her before reconsidering. Instead, Eddie sits on the floor too, leaning up against the couch opposite her.

“The power’s out– heat too,” Red mumbles. 

“Yeah, windows are pretty shit in the trailers. It’s why we got space heaters this year.”

“Must be nice, being able to afford space heaters,” she says with a smirk, taking her mittens off and rubbing her hands back and forth in front of the heater. Eddie’s more than familiar with the self-deprecating poor jokes, so it’s no sweat off his back. “I’m Max, by the way. Not Little Red.”

“Well when newbies move into the lot across the way and don’t introduce themselves, you’ve left me no choice but to resort to outlandish nicknames.” A ghost of a smile passes her features before it’s lost to a full-body shiver. Eddie realizes that this is their first-ever conversation, despite her living in the Park for almost four weeks now. “Mama Red and Little Red: The unfriendly neighbors across the way,” he finishes the dramatics with a wide smile.

Max scoffs out a laugh “well you haven’t been exactly friendly either.” And well, she’s got him there. He’s not exactly baking cookies as a neighborly welcome.

He decides he likes her. She seems witty, quick to defend herself, and bold enough to call out bullshit. Eddie’s always been a sucker for lost sheep and Little Red is quite literally a shivering child huddled up to his hearth with no parent in sight. Like sees like and he’s almost desperate to help her.

“You know, I know the heaters are shit in the trailers-”

“That’s an understatement,” Max interrupts with another huff.

“– but if you or your mom ever need help with anything, Wayne and I are always happy to come over to check on stuff for you,” he offers. 

He watches the offer die in the air between them. Her face shutters back to the cold neutrality he’s used to seeing her wear and she moves to stand.

“Yeah, of course,” she says. There’s no warmth or meaning behind the words. Just typical middle America niceties. “Speaking of help, can I use your phone?”

Eddie nods, leading her to the kitchen. He can’t help but replay the moment over in his head, regretting that his mistake was so painfully obvious in hindsight. Offering kids like Gareth and Jeff help meant soft smiles and adoration. For a kid like Max– a kid like him– an offer of help only reminds them they’re a burden. Help is just a way of reminding them that they can’t take care of themselves. Help means weak.

How could it have been so long that he’s forgotten? He supposes he has Wayne to thank for that newfound privilege.

“Hey it’s me,” Max says in hushed tones over the receiver. She looks at Eddie and turns her back to him. He meanders over to the other side of the counter, pretending not to listen.

“Can you come pick me up?” she asks. Eddie can’t hear the response on the other end, but Max exasperatedly sighs. 

“Yes I’m fine. No, it’s not Billy, it’s just the heater.” 

She pauses, shoulders hunched, and Eddie wonders who Billy could be. The only Billy he knows is Hargrove, and he’s never seen him around here before. Thank fuck for that.

“No she’s not home. No, jeez will you listen I just need– yeah I’ve got a bag. Ten minutes? Ok yeah I’ll– wait no. I’m not home.”

She turns to glance at Eddie, and he’s too slow to look nonchalant if her scowl means something. 

“I’m at the Munson’s. Yeah– no, it’s just Eddie. Umm,” she hesitates, scanning him up and down before responding, “no he’s good. Yeah I’ll wait here.”

She hangs the phone back on the wall, crossing her arms as she looks anywhere but Eddie’s direction. He knows he fucked up, knows where he went wrong, but doesn’t know how to fix it. He isn’t Wayne. 

“My ride will be here soon,” she says to her shoes.

“Ok yeah, no big deal,” Eddie replies. “We can wait in the living room?”

Little Red shrugs, but heads back to sit in front of the space heater. It’s silent and awkward, neither of them knowing how to move past the tension. Eddie laments himself again at losing a lost sheep. Although if she has a ride, maybe she isn’t as lost as he thought.

Ten minutes feels like an eternity, but eventually headlights flash through the front windows. Max practically tips over from the weight of her backpack with how quickly she’s scrambling toward the door. And yeah, Eddie thinks she must’ve felt the same about the wait.

“Uhh, hey, thanks,” Max says, her hand already on the door handle. “You know, for letting me use the phone.”

He can fix this. He can recover. Eddie doesn’t want to acknowledge why it’s so important that Little Red feels safe here, but he’s desperate for her to know. That he’s ok and he gets it. He gets her and she isn’t alone here, like Eddie was before Wayne. He wants to help. 

What would he have wanted to hear?

“Whelp,” he says loudly, standing up from the floor, “you’re always welcome to come over and entertain me with more scintillating conversations. Perchance, on our next meeting, we could engage in the classic game of Go Fish?” He plasters on a too-wide grin, removing an imaginary top-hat and falls forward into a deep bow. An actual offer of help disguised as his own boredom, wrapped in a thick layer of sarcasm and extravagance. He’s really pulling out all the stops here.

And it works, mostly. Her mouth ticks up at the ends, matching the little spark that’s returned to her eyes. Eddie thinks that maybe for Little Red, a smirk and an eye roll is as good as it gets. He’ll take it as a win.

“Oh my god,” she laments, yet the smirk is still there. “You sound just as dorky as the boys.”

She opens the door and Eddie stands behind her, holding it open as she makes her way out. He’s not sure why he’s surprised– knows he really, really shouldn’t be at this point– to see the maroon beemer parked in front of his trailer. But here he is, standing in front of the King himself, wearing Wayne’s black and tattered Johnny Cash sweatshirt, blue buffalo check wool pajama bottoms, and his red and green Christmas fuzzy socks. He feels too visible, the headlights shining on all of Eddie’s insecurities.

But before his hackles come out, Harrington jumps out of his car and half jogs up to the front step. He takes Max’s backpack and ruffles the pom on her knit hat before she’s bounding to the car, saying something under her breath which sounds a little like “ok mom” if Eddie’s not mistaken.

“Hey Munson,” Harrington says. He’s standing at the bottom of the front porch, looking up at Eddie through the glow of the headlights. And Eddie’s pretty sure the only plebeians who have ever seen the King look this disgruntled are his many midnight conquests. Harrington’s still got a thick, red sleep indent across his left cheek. His normally styled hair is pointing in all directions, standing completely vertical on the same side as the indent. He must’ve left in a hurry too, only clad in grey Hawkins Tigershark sweatpants– same as Red, though his fit him properly– and an oversized green crewneck sweatshirt.

And no, Eddie thinks, maybe even Harrington’s midnight conquests haven’t seen him like this. The King looks less like royalty and more like the normal boy Eddie supposes he really is, underneath the All-American highschool bully varnish he must slather himself in every morning. Or at least did, before Byers and Wheeler and Hargrove got to him. 

He realizes too late that he’s been staring, caught up in the softness of a pretty face. Harrington’s shuffling his feet, blowing on his hands as he rubs them together fiercely. There’s a strong red tinge to his cheeks, almost like a blush. Almost.

“I uhh,” Harrington stutters, looking up at Eddie. “I just wanted to say thank you, for letting her hang here until I could get here.”

“It’s no problem, man,” Eddie says, “don’t worry about it.” Eddie means to sound casual, he does. Because he’s seen Harrington around. Watched him help move boxes into Red’s trailer. Watched him pick her up and drop her off everyday of the week, including most weekends. Hell, sometimes Eddie’s even witnessed an entire gaggle of children spill from the luxury car’s back seats, the lot of them yelling while Harrington tries to herd them around like an exhausted sheep dog. 

But Harrington is still The Hair, The King of Hawkins High, even if it’s not the same as it used to be. So Eddie’s voice sounds more cold and hollow than casual. Harrington might not have ever shoved him into lockers, but he brandished sharp names like weapons against kids like Eddie. He’s a freak. A fag and a queer. A loser.

Harrington cringes, almost like he can hear Eddie’s thoughts. Eddie steps back to close the door, but Harrington calls out.

“If you ever need help with anything,” Harrington calls out, “or if Max is here and needs something, just like, ask me. Call me, you can get my number from Max.” 

Help. 

Eddie bites back his instinctual reaction to tell Harrington to fuck off. Of course some hoity-toity rich prick thinks someone like Eddie needs help. 

Hypocrite he lambashes himself, before taking a slow breath in and out.

He stiffly nods, unable to actually respond without worry of snapping. 

Harrington seems to understand, nodding in return, jogging back to the car and sending a small, awkward wave from behind the steering wheel as he and Red pull out of the drive. 

Eddie crawls back into the warmth of his bed, blankets pulled tight around him. He thinks he recovered with Red rather well, in the end. Like he hasn’t lost her faith completely, which is all he could hope for. And even though he doesn’t like Harrington, he also can’t help but wonder how different his own childhood would’ve been if he’d had someone like Steve, who would’ve picked him up at a moment’s notice at four a.m. on the coldest day of winter. 

He might not have adopted a new sheep into his growing flock, but he can sleep a little better knowing she isn’t alone. Knowing Steve Harrington, of all people, seems more than willing to go out of his way for her. Almost as desperate to help a lost kid as Eddie feels, and isn’t that a thought. The Freak and the King might have something in common after all.  

#this fic can fit so much childhood neglect in it #steddie if you squint *really* hard #it's coming though I swear #all my babies in one story #max and eddie and steve #steve & max #max mayfield #eddie munson #pre steddie #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #max mayfield fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #QueenieWritesStories #It's midnight so if you see errors THINK AGAIN

[samsrowena]

DEAN WINCHESTER | SUPERNATURAL "You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die or you can keep fighting, no matter what."

↓ tag list (ask to be added/removed!)

@passengerseatcas @waldrea @canadiandutchiefangirl @maybenextjuneillgettoloveyou @raytoroinmybackpack @saintedcastiel @universalcas @magdaclaire @my-people-skills-are-rusty @here-for-thee-gay-shit @wartyfrogfish @carveredlund @johnwatersbongwater @bloodydeanwinchester @deanabean @free-birdies @petrichoravellichor @amaranthhiding @angelsdean @castiellesbian @thigholstercas @cosmosinfinity23 @hammyletto @rainsongdean @germicidal-99 @the-randomest-ofthe-fandomest @toobusytobebored

#deansbirthdaybash #spnedit #deanedit #dean winchester #anztag #becauseofthebowties #klinejack #spxcekya #greatcometcas #userda #chapeldean #feathersforcas #deanncastiel #tusersana #bebecas #deancaskiss #LATE AF but it's still dean's birthday somewhere right??? #altarofedits

[theblue6ook]

Our Stupid Smart Kids

Summary: Y/N’s interview didn’t exactly go as planned, but don’t worry John and Alfred have got it all figured out. [B (23) & Y/N (21)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Well hello there. If you liked this story, it’s a part of my “Out of My League” series. There will be more to come ;)

Alfred had known John a long time. He’d known him since Bruce’s Gotham Academy graduation gala, which he pleaded not to attend. The florist had a mishap, and John and his wife Dorthie picked up the slack and had several arrangements sent over to the manor for free as a way to introduce their new business. Alfred reimbursed them, of course, but he also highly respected them.

They’d often catch up during lunch or get coffee. They’d been meeting up more frequently since Dorthie passed away, and Alfred was happy he could be there for John. Currently, they sit at The Little Cafe, a French-styled coffee emporium only a block away from his Flower Shop. Alfred's choice, of course.

“I just don’t get it, Pennyworth,” John started, mouth half full of a chocolate croissant. “She’s so god damn smart, and I’m not kidding either, but she just can’t - ugh, I don’t know.”

“I don’t know what to do with these bloody kids either,” Alfred shook his head, sipping his tea. They’d often do this, talk about the respective people in their lives. Alfred would pick John’s brain now and then about what to do with Bruce without going into too much detail, and John would do the same about Y/N and Carrie.

John swallowed hard and went in for another bite, "She is stubborn as hell. I know something's up, but it's like she would rather die than tell me. She's such a pill. It's ridiculous." 

He inhaled deeply, shaking his head as he looked out the window. 

"Don't get me started on stubborn," Alfred rolled his eyes. "Trying to get Bruce into the office is like playing a game you can never win. He'd rather faff around."

They sat in silence for a moment. John finished the rest of his croissant and didn't take his eyes off the road. Alfred could tell John was in deep thought. He appeared to be doing some sort of mental calculation. Eventually, John sat his coffee down in a serious manner, leaning back into his chair. He finally looked over at Alfred.

"How long have we known each other?"

"Does it matter?" Alfred leaned forward and chuckled. 

"I know, but let's say it's been about seven years, give or take," he grinned, "In all that time, I've grown to trust you as you have to me."

"What is this about-"

"Now," he interrupted. "I know we have a silent agreement not to pry, but I think we could help each other here."

“What do you have in mind?”

"Well, Y/N has way too much on her plate to be worrying about bills, and she's great at bossing people around," he smiled. "Your Bruce clearly needs someone to tell him what to do and has more money than he knows what to do with. You see where I'm going with this?"

"You want me to give her the assistant's job," Alfred grinned. "If she needs help with money, I could always cut her a check-"

"Oh god no," he laughed. "She's too stubborn for that, but she would get him working."

"You would think," Alfred looked tiredly down at his tea. "They all end up quitting eventually."

“You don’t understand,” John smiled. “After Dorthie died, I was a mess. Didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. The store was in shambles. Then, Y/N came back from school. She put my ass into gear. She a fixer.”

Alfred looked hesitant, “I’m not sure, John. Master Bruce can be persistent, to say the least.”

“Alfred, all I’m saying is if the Mister Wayne needs to get his shit together,” he grinned confidently, “she can do it.”

#bruce wayne x reader #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batboys x reader #batmom #batman #batfam #slow burn

[scarasimplysimping]

All In

Part 1 (might be two parts idk)

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Summary: A bet is placed to see if you can get the Summa Cum Laude to fall in love with you. (Scaramouche x Reader) (College au)

Contains: Idk. So it's one of those love stories where there's a bet. Hu Tao and Childe are kind of assholes for the sake of this fic, I am SORRY. Reader is also kind of an ass. Ooc. Some plot holes because I don't go to college or drink or smoke. Just roll with it.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

2,822 words 15,518 characters

What a stuck-up prick.

That's what you thought of him anyway. He was *the* Summa Cum Laude of your year. He was snobby, self-centered, friendless, and to top it all off, he just so happened to be your partner for your big thesis.

It was not by choice but he had no partner because people were afraid of him and you had no partner because well... people hated you. It wasn't a project that could be done individually either, lest you wanted to die before you graduate.

"He's such a bore." You complain to your friends on the lunch table, Hu Tao, Childe, and Xiao. "I tried to make plans with him, really. I asked if he was free, and you know what he said?" You slammed your hands on the table for dramatic effect.

Hu Tao leaned in closer, strands of her hair falling onto the table, and alarmingly close to Xiao's food, making him scowl as he moved his tray.

"He said," you began, putting up a silly impression of him with a snobby expression. "I don't need bottom feeders like you dragging down my work. I'll handle everything. Pay me if you want."

Childe snorted. Hu Tao doubled over in laughter, mainly because you're impression was so on point.

"God, what a freak." Hu Tao mused as she wiped her tears from her face, she never passed on the opportunity to talk shit about someone she didn't like. Childe agreed with her but he was partly not paying attention. He jabbed his fork into Xiao's food.

"Fucker." Xiao muttered under his breath.

Your silly clique was a ragtag bunch of misfits in their own ways. Hu Tao was your childhood friend who always had something vindictive to say or some storm to stir up. She lived for the drama.

Childe started tagging along around highschool. He was a charming, silver-tongued ginger ball of sunshine, he started developing a negative reputation over time as as somewhat of a satyr, though.

Xiao was above all the petty and immature antics whichever one of you had the gall to cook up. In all honesty, he was only there because his older brother, Zhongli had asked Childe to help him settle in to the college life. Childe owed the man a favor so he dragged the poor emo wherever you guys went and you kind of just got used to his company.

Then there was you, there was one thing that set you far apart from them all.

Money.

They were filthy rich and you, an independent college student, had not a penny to your name after you decided to up and leave your family to follow Hu Tao to college. You didn't really have to work though, your friends pretty much covered most of your college expense as casually as a friend would by you lunch.

"I know I can't really help him, I mean, my grades are dogshit right now but like I don't know how to pay him either," You said, burying your face into your palms.

Childe scoffed. "I don't even think he means it. Plus, it's nothing to worry about. We've got you covered if that greedy little nerd actually demands shit from you."

"Yeah, just let him do everything by himself," He continued "Watch him or something, in case your professor wants updates.."

A small smirk formed upon his lips. "I bet he's not that hard to watch anyway."

You playfully punched him on the shoulder "Gross!"

"You gotta admit he is kinda cute," Hu Tao chided in. "Right, Xiao?"

Xiao shrugged, far too focused on actually having lunch.

Childe snaked an arm over you. "Tell you what, (Y/N). If you can somehow bed the prudish bastard before the end of this semester, I'll fork over some money for this month's rent."

"Hu Tao pays rent."

"I'll fork over some money for anything you want."

"Hmm... I want VIP tickets to La Signora's concert."

"Done~"

"Oh my archons! Like actually?" Hu Tao couldn't tell if you both were serious. "(Y/N), your charm is above average but I don't even know if you can pull this one off."

You roll your eyes." Have faith in me. I bet he's easy."

Hu Tao leans back thoughtfully, a mischievous smirk playing on her face. "Alright, (Y/N). If you manage to pull this off I'll give you a grand.

You gape at her. "Seriously?

"Absolutely."

You know were only entertaining the idea because they had no actual faith you'd pull it off, but to you. This was easy money.

You slowly turn to the brooding emo on the table. "What about you, Xiao?"

His eyes narrowed at you. "What about me?"

"You gonna offer anything?"

He scoffs, groaning internally and being the only one with a moral compass. "Only an asshole would find bets such as these any type of fun."

Childe flicks his wrist dismissevly. "We are assholes."

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

It was hard enough convincing Scaramouche to work on the project and your (and Hu Tao's) place but now you had to deal with the emanating silence from you both. You've barely ever talked to him but the tension in your room could be cut with a knife, or maybe that was just your imagination.

He was sitting cross legged on your bed, typing away at his laptop with several papers surrounding him. You were sat across from him in the same position, nursing a cigarette in between your fingers.

"Do you want something to eat?" You finally break the silence.

He doesn't look up from the screen as he responds. "What do you have?"

You look to the ceiling, trying to recall what you and Hu Tao had last shoved into the fridge. "Uh... Pesto... Pizza... Dumplings. Probably some leftover vegetables."

"Bring me them all." Talk about shame.

"Alright." You say, putting out the cigarette on your nightstand. You couldn't help but notice the tiny scowl on Scaramouche's face as he glanced at the ashtray.

You come back balancing a bowl of pesto, a bowl of dumplings, and a bowl of salad on a box of pizza. Scaramouche pats on the side of your bed, indicating for you to drop the offerings there.

You light another cigarette as you take your previous seat in front of him.

"The weather is pretty nice today.." A sad attempt at conversation on your end.

Silence

"So... Childe's hosting a party tomorrow night, would you like to come?" You try once more.

Scaramouche still doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look up from the screen.

You blow a puff of smoke on his face. He coughs a bit before glaring at you with cold judging eyes. At least he was actually looking at you now. "I have no time to indulge in that crap."

"You have plenty of time. That thesis isn't due for another month."

"Well not exactly, since I'll be doing the work for both of us."

"Do you have a problem with me?"

"I have a problem with people like you." He glowers.

"People like me?" You raise your eyebrows.

"People who just have everything spoon fed to them by luck or by birthright and take that as a reason to slack off for the rest of their life since everything just magically works out for them." Scaramouche wasn't wrong, you really fucked around and never found out but still, what right did he have to judge you?

"Didn't know you knew me so well." You say, blowing out another puff of smoke but this time it's to the side.

Scaramouche opens his mouth to respond, then closes it once more. You had a point. It was hypocritical of him to listen to judge you based on gossip.

Finally, he speaks after a few minutes of silence.

"I was out of line." It's an apology although he doesn't outright apologize.

"Yeah." You decide to take advantage of his momentary guilt as you inquire about what he's working on. "So, do you mind telling me what you're doing?"

"Well, I'm looking online for research papers related to the topic were studying. I'm taking snippets I find interesting and I'll save them for later to expand on them in our thesis."

Scaramouche speaks a bit more but you're hardly listening. You take this time to really observe his physical appearance. Hu Tao was right; the man was cute. His eyes, his mouth, his lips. If you took a meat cleaver to the center of his skull, you'd have matching halves.

Even his hair looked softer than unicorn fur.

"(Y/N)?" He snaps you out, a displeased expression creeps upon his face upon noticing that you aren't even paying attention.

"Your hair looks softer than unicorn fur," you blurt out.

His eyes widen slightly, and you could've sworn he turned a shade pink before he feigned a disgusted look to save his dignity. "What the hell?"

You caught on immediately. There it was. Scaramouche had a weakness. The Summa Cum Laude, the bridge troll with a big brain and purple hair (as Hu Tao once described him) is someone who gets easily flustered .

"You're kind of cute." You push on.

"Shut the fuck up." His head lowers, he dares not look into your eyes.

"Come to Childe's party with me?" You ask once more.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Scaramouche hated you. He hated your face and your voice and your personality. He hated every single atom you were made up of, but most of all he hated the way you were able to persuade him to come to this stupid party. And for what? Just because you were the first person to ever call him cute? He'd curse you and all your descendants to come.

Childe's party was just a gathering of drunks and trouble makers. His house was practically a mansion that could fit 60% of the university's student population.

He hated the blaring lights and unbelievably loud, repetitive, and distasteful music.

"I hate this!" He has to shout for you to hear.

"I know!"

"I'm going home!"

"You can't! You're my ride home!"

"We walked here, dumbass!" Scaramouche wanted to leave you truly he did but something, wasn't letting him. His moral compass or his growing fondness of you?

Childe finds you, placing an arm around your shoulder. "Hey!" He hands you a shot glass which you graciously accept and down in a couple of seconds, much to Scaramouche's dismay.

Childe pays no attention to your companion until he does a double take and realize it's Scaramouche.

"Holy shit! Is that Scara!?" Childe grins hazily. He was drunk drunk.

Scaramouche does not respond. He is frowning while Childe handed you half a bottle of gin.

You drink it within a couple minutes as you chat with Childe.

Scaramouche stands there, awkward, cranky, and out of place as the only person he's aquatinted with in this party is getting absolutely inebriated.

At some point you don't know when or from where but you get your hands on another shot glass.

"You're not drinking that," Scaramouche states firmly.

"I am." You bring the cup to your lips but Scaramouche is faster, he snatches it from you and lets it fall to the ground.

"What gives!?"

"I'm not carrying your drunk ass home just because you drank away the capability to walk!" He shouts at you.

People are staring now. Is it because of the commotion or because Scaramouche was the last person anyone would expect to see at a party?

Scaramouche didn't like the staring or the attention. "I'm going fucking home." He says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you past the crowd. "So are you."

Childe is left there, impressed. He takes out his cellphone.

To: Hu Tao

She's actually gonna pull it off. Wtf

From: Childe

You stumble and trip as Scaramouche drags you through the night. It was a miracle you could keep up. (It wasn't, he slowed his pace on purpose to match yours but it still wasn't slow enough for your drunken ass.)

"Scara, slow dooown~"

He ignores you until he feels you slip from his grasp, landing with a thud. "What the fuck is wrong with you!? Do you not have the smarts to walk!?" The boy scolds.

You decide to rest your knees a bit as you stay on the ground.

You hear him sigh sharply before crouching in front of you. "Get on."

"What? Like piggyback style?"

"Yes, damnit just get on." His face wasn't facing you and it was dark. Scaramouche was eternally grateful to the archons that you couldn't see the way his ears reddened.

He carries you like that until you're at the front door of your place. Scaramouche gently drops you off. Miraculously not panting. (He wasn't that athletic.)

"Can I trust you enough to tuck yourself in?" The boy asks, his tone was calm this time.

You nod in response.

"Alright." Scaramouche turns his heel to leave.

"Scaramouche." You call out.

He turns back to you, a little too quickly.

You try to take a step towards him except you "accidentally" trip on air and crash onto his chest. He barely moves an inch but his hands instinctively wrap around you. You can see the exact moment he scrunches his nose as well as the moment before that where his cheeks flush.

You'll blame this on alcohol later. You'll also blame alcohol for when you pulled his collar to place a quick peck on his lips.

This was the night Scaramouche nearly passed away.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Scara paced around his room. What the fuck was that? Why the fuck would you do that? His heart still raced as fast as it did when you kissed him.

He replayed the kiss over and over in his mind. Why? Just why? He mussed his hair in frustration as he plopped himself on the bed. If Scaramouche focused enough, he could still feel their lips on his, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

Why had a drunken asshole decided to take his first kiss? Why was he reacting so weirdly?

And why did he just tuck tail speed walk away right after it happened without saying shit about it?

(Y/N) will probably tell their friends. They'll gossip and laugh at how the smartest person in their program was turned into a blushing, sputtering mess at the mere kiss of some drunk. Some overly confident, obnoxious, attractive drunk who's lips were soft as velvet.

The thought has him reeling. Rolling to the side, Scaramouche pulled a pillow over his head and groaned into it.

"I'm done guessing. What's wrong with you?" His inner monologue was broken by his cyan haired roommate.

"Nothing. Fuck off, Dottore." His words still muffled by the pillow.

"All your ceaseless brooding is keeping me distracted. I suggest you stop whining if you don't want me to give you more reasons to whine."

Silence.

That came out wrong, but it got Scaramouche to shut up so who would complain?

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

It was a crush. That's what Dottore had said to him. It made jackshit sense though. Why would he like you? You were just someone he perceived as a slacker. It's possibly because you were the only one who ever showed interest in him. He'll probably get over it when he finds someone else to adore, but he couldn't.

Scaramouche was once again working on the thesis, on your bed. He didn't bring up the kiss. Maybe you'd forgotten about it? A small part of him hoped that you didn't though.

Finally, he decides to speak up. "I demand compensation."

You shoot him a confused look.

"What? Don't you remember?" Scaramouche scowls.

"You kissed me..."

"Did I?" You feign innocence.

"Do not make me repeat myself." He orders. "That was my first kiss. I demand some kind of compensation." His cheeks were heating up as it became harder and harder for him to look you in the eyes.

"Oh?" You bring your index finger below your lips in an expression of mock thoughtfulness.

Scaramouche's scowl deepens at your mocking finger below your lips. "Do not toy with me," he warns. "You took something and I want fair repayment."

You chuckle, enjoying his ruffled feathers. " And what is a first kiss worth these days?" Leaning back on your hands, you look him over appraisingly. "I'm not convinced it was really your first. You seemed to know what you were doing..."

His cheeks redden as he scrunches his nose at your audacity. "You're insufferable."

"And yet you enjoyed kissing me." You smirk. "Perhaps you even want more?"

Scaramouche's embarrassment only grows at your bold insinuation. "You presume too much, fool," he bites back, though his resolve seems weakened.

You shrug. "Suit yourself. I was just about to offer a date."

He narrows his eyes at you, as if trying to ascertain if this is some sort of trick. "A date?"

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi

[dee-morris]

I Think We Moved on Too Quickly from Coffee Theory

Yeah yeah I know. But hear me out.

When I watched the season two finale the first time, I felt blindsided by it. From a narrative perspective it made sense, bc Neil Gaiman said that he needed to set up the situation that would make season three possible and okay yeah, that probably meant putting Crowley and Aziraphale in weird and different places. I got that. But from a character perspective it felt like a huge reversal from Aziraphale's behavior throughout season two, and of course that led me to look for outside factors that could have caused it.

After talking about it with Internet friends, reading lots of metas, thinking and discussing and watching the season over again, I decided that it wasn't necessary to believe that Aziraphale had been drugged. Most of what he said and did could be explained by careful study and analysis. Once you realize that Metabitch's presence in the bookshop is a veiled threat, everything else falls into place.

Nevertheless.

I definitely DO NOT Believe that Aziraphale was brainwashed or mind controlled by the coffee. His behavior during the Final Fifteen was frenetic, desperate, little bit manic. Definitely not the behavior of a mindless zombie. But nevertheless.

I still think that there was too much emphasis on the coffee for it to be a simple prop. Is it a literal macguffin or a symbolic one, that I'm not sure. I could see it either way. It might be just a symbol of the Sophie's Choice that Aziraphale had been presented with, or... There might have actually been something in the coffee.

The show makes a point of telling us that celestials can be affected by human poison. Almonds are symbolic in the Bible, and cyanide smells like almonds. Again, Aziraphale's behavior at the breakup scene was not that of a brainwashed person, but what if the Metatron TRIED something like that and it didn't completely work?

Aziraphale didn't want to follow the Metatron until after he drank the coffee. And even then he turned and looked at Crowley, and he didn't move until Crowley told him to go ahead. (Cue the Breaking Bad Walter Screaming in the Car meme) What if whatever the Metatron tried on Aziraphale only kind of worked? Just enough to make Aziraphale a bit dizzy and suggestible, but being close to Crowley mitigated the worst of it. That's why Metatrash needed to separate them.

Aziraphale is very clever, and if he knew he'd been drugged he would also know better than to let on that it hadn't worked completely. Cue the weird off-key phrases that are ALMOST in character but still pretty damn weird. "Heaven is the side of goodness, of light" my dude has NEVER said anything like that. He's said that about God, yes, but he's always held a distinction between God and heaven. Or "you're the bad guys" that's just WEIRD, that's a weird thing for him to say, and I will die on this hill. Even during their worst fights Aziraphale has made distinctions been himself and Crowley in terms of their job descriptions, but he's never made a moral judgement like that before, nor has he ever lumped Crowley in with the rest of hell. "They're the bad guys," now that would have made sense, and if it were anyone but Neil Gaiman running this shit I would think that it was a simple scripting error. But Neil doesn't make mistakes like that.

So Aziraphale plays along and tried desperately to communicate with Crowley that something IS VERY WRONG but our favorite disaster demon picks NOW to get in his feelings and ignore the clear and present danger standing outside the bookshop and staring at them. I'm pretty sure "I forgive you" is Aziraphalese for ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??

Again, I don't need my version of Coffee Theory to be real to understand what happened in the Final Fifteen, but it's just an interesting little toy to roll around in my head. There's so much emphasis on that coffee in the show and even in the episode synopsis, I still think there's something about it that we haven't been told.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #aziraphale my beloved #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #good omens s2 #coffee theory #the final fifteen

[eksvaized]

Simon ’Ghost’ Riley x fem!reader render by: @661ave

part FIVE

[ Previous 〡 Next ]

You tell Ghost your address. He pulls out his phone and checks something - probably just looking at a map to make sure he knows where to drive you to - before he turns on the engine. You don’t bother with a seatbelt. He doesn’t either.

Your body sinks into the seat as your arms snake around your waist, and you lean your pounding head against the window. You press your cheek against the cool glass and close your eyes. The silence is deafening. Neither of you is speaking, however, once or twice, you exchange a few furtive glances and your eyes lock for a second before each of you turns away.

The pulsating pain in your head feels like someone is attempting to wring out your brain. You make a list in your mind, thinking of everything you need to do once you get home: find some painkillers, take a cold shower, get a snack, and then go straight to bed.

Your lips part and you take a deep breath in, trying to ignore the saliva that has started to collect in your mouth. The sensation of nausea intensifies, making you believe you might vomit once more, but concentrating on something else briefly soothes the queasiness.

Another five minutes pass.

Even though not a single word has been said yet, the ride isn’t as awkward as you expected it to be. Although your eyes are closed, you can feel Ghost’s gaze boring into you. And you can sense that he wants to say something by the way his fingertips tap the wheel and because he clicks his teeth every two seconds. However, he continues to bite his tongue and remains mute.

You don’t inquire as to what’s on his mind; you swallow hard, suppressing the urge to ask the questions that linger on your tongue. But your mind still wanders, and your thoughts creep into the hidden crevices of your head, where you've stashed away all your unwanted emotions and feelings.

As your gaze travels down his arms, tracing the black ink on his skin, you remember how it felt to have his hands caressing your body. His fingers digging into your hips as he drew you even closer. His lips assaulting your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys on your collarbone, ensuring that you won’t be able to forget that night.

Ghost senses you gazing at him, and when you peer at his face, you can tell that he’s trying to hold back a sly smirk.

When he looks at you again, there's a mischievous gleam in his eyes that hints at his confidence, making you feel bashful. And no matter how much you want to make a comment about it, tell him to stop staring, you find yourself swallowing your words and looking away instead.

“I expected you to be a lousy driver.“ You confess, breaking the stillness.

You watch the gravel road through the front window, then glance at the rear-view mirror, hypnotised by the swirling dust following a truck. This is not the typical route you would take to and from the base. But you assume Ghost knows a shortcut.

He turns his head to you and knits his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation because he thought that so far he was doing a great job at driving. You press your palm to his cheek. As you make him divert his gaze away, the black fabric tickles your skin; you wish he wouldn’t always wear that stupid mask.

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

“Roger that, love.“

“…And I say this because I’ve heard rumours that the only time anyone should get into a car with you is if they have a death wish.”

Ghost rolls his eyes, but doesn’t disagree. You continue talking.

“But you still got in.” He points out.

“True, but only because I had no other choice.” You reply and lock your eyes with him for a moment. “And I don’t want to die, so keep your hands on the wheel and eyes on the road.”

You continue to chat — there are no profound topics or deep confessions. But the friendly banter, some jokes and a few sarcastic remarks here and there are enough for you.

A wave of sickness rushes over you causing you to grip Ghost’s shoulder. Your eyes widen as you bury your nails in his flesh and basically yell at him to stop the truck. You wobble out through the door, barely keeping your balance. As your stomach cramps intensify, the act of vomiting becomes excruciating, causing you to moan and whimper in pain.

You didn't hear the truck door open or the footsteps approaching, so you’re startled when Ghost starts softly rubbing your back as his other hand sweeps up your hair. You wish he would leave you alone. You’re anxious about him seeing you like this, but there’s not much you can do.

After you empty your stomach, he helps you to get back into a truck because your head is dizzy and your vision is fuzzy. The rest of the ride was quiet. You’re too embarrassed to speak, and he doesn’t bother you, even though you suspect he has plenty to say.

“Thank you… for tonight.” You muster the courage to speak when the truck comes to a halt.

He nods. You then mumble a muted goodbye and get out.

When you step into your apartment and lock the door, a sinking feeling washes over you - your phone is nowhere to be found. As you got out of the truck, it must have fallen out of your pocket and now lies on the seat in Ghost’s truck.

#cod #simon riley x reader #writing #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #call of duty #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #blackmailghost

[niobiumao3]

Okay but here's my main narrative issue with CX-2 as Tech within the canon context: it utterly undermines Crosshair's plot and goes in the face of the entire TBB throughline of agency and choosing to do and be the right thing even if it's hard.

Crosshair's plot--and the plot of all the regs--is one of agency after moral injury. The chip made them do horrible shit, but then its influence fades (or it's removed) and they're left with the reality of having done something they thought was right but know, deep down, was not. And this is horrifying, and breaks all of them in various ways. There's a series of contrasts being laid out in this, which Tech as a CX simply doesn't work with.

Those who made it out:

Cody, Howzer, and Crosshair all save themselves from it over the course of their personal plots. Rex is saved by Ahsoka but left with the emotional scars and determination to save others from it.

Those who are trapped:

Wolffe, a good man convinced he's doing the right thing. Other regs like Wolffe. And then we have the CXes.

The CXes being magically brainwashed, unlike Wolffe and the other regs who are caught by the moral injury of their chips, clashes with this and simply doesn't fit. But what does fit is the type of cult indoctrination and brainwashing we see in our own world. People who are highly vulnerable being targeted by such groups and recruited. That is a similar trap that Wolffe is in, he's just (in effect) recruited himself.

Why 'Scifi Brainwashing' the CXes is a Bad Plot

Scifi-magic-brainwashing is no different than a fully active control chip. It's the same thing, and the whole POINT of S2 was how those were failing or wearing off (or being removed). Why would the plot just roll back on that? 'Well now it's some torture horror method and not a biotech chip'. Okay why not just say Hemlock figured out how to make the chips work again? Hemlock's entire elevator pitch in The Summit was that he'd found a way to NOT NEED fancy biotech brainwashing. That was his point, that he'd found a way to 'convince' them instead. So Scifi-magic-brainwashing doesn't make sense here plot wise, and while Bad Writing is always an option, much of the season has been top tier. I don't think they'd negate their own plot so thoroughly.

What IS CX Conditioning

What Hemlock seems to be doing is more traditional cult indoctrination and brainwashing. You put people in a Situation--this probably does involve torture but that's not the same as mindflayers and control chips--and now you're testing their resilience (emotional AND physical). Conforming becomes a choice, and is once again about agency and deciding to do the right thing. This kind of decision is a common theme in TBB, and is undermined by magically forcing people to be something they're not. I grant you, the choice might be 'convert or die', but since Cross was resisting and still alive and not even completely physically wrecked we can assume it's survivable. Awful, but you can get through it.

And a traditional conditioning would fail on Crosshair precisely because he saved himself from the aftermath of his chip already. He slowly realized what was happening, what he was part of. He finally broke free by killing Nolan, a sort of reverse of the situation with Caleb/Kanan. The regs being conditioned, though, they've not already had this breakthrough, they're much more vulnerable to choosing the CX route. Crosshair has been through this rodeo, he knows it's all bullshit.

What about Tech?

Tech, IMO, wouldn't be susceptible to it either; I guess you can argue he might, but I think that gets into some ugly stereotypes about autistic people being amoral and morally gray and etc. Simply put, there's no reason for Tech to be vulnerable to cult brainwashing just because he didn't have to fight it off the first time. I know some people have tried to push back on this with 'anyone CAN be brainwashed' but like...okay we're back to, why would Tech choose that. That's the thing here--what motivation would Tech have for falling to that beyond 'make the torture stop'? Our mans walked on a busted femur for HOW long, defeated 3 clones with one? And this person would fall to traditional cult mentality? I don't know that I can agree on that.

Then there's the added narrative complications:

Tech would have revealed Pabu the second Omega escaped if he was a CX

...unless he had amnesia, which would fit with him being vulnerable to CX conditioning but now we have CX and amnesiac Tech??

How is this being resolved in 4 episodes, given we know the earliest they can reclaim him is ep 10/11 because we see CX-2 as part of the Pabu invasion?

Sure, they can magically fix him somehow (feel free to choose your preferred method) but now we're back to, this flies in the face of the TBB plot of choice and living with what you actually chose to do, as well as what you were forced to do. It negates Cross' plot, which was a 3 season journey of repairing himself. Now we'd repair Tech from the same thing in one episode? I don't see that happening.

Anyways. This is a perfectly fun plot for fics and the like, where we can fudge bits of the story, stretch it out like taffey, imagine different options. But the canon has severe runtime constraints which would hamper this kind of plot without hurting other narrative threads they've established. You'd need a good season to really lay out a Tech-CX-2 plot which wouldn't conflict with Cross's own plot. They don't have a season, they have 6 episodes max, probably less.

#star wars #spoilers #the bad batch #tbb tech #I like it for fanfic #but for canon I just don't see it working #tech tbb #tech the bad batch

[streamat4am]

Writing prompt if you will, when ever you got time.

For t&t au Enid being possessive of Wednesdays time during the day. Hating the time spent away from her, hating the people surrounding Wednesday the usual. And maybe she takes care of that possessiveness during the night 🫣 by making sure that Wednesday knows that she’s hers and hers alone?

Also congrats on making the new blog 🎉 I can’t wait to see everyone’s ask/reactions!

I gotchu!

Tags: fluff but don't be fooled bc Enid is still a possessive freak, usual smut NSFW things, over stimulation. Slight ooc Wednesday etc

Think of this as when they're finally something in the au

No beta bc we die like Enid's morals in this au

-

Wednesday is beautiful, that's a fact.

Others would describe her as a lovely poison that they think they can handle. Most of the time, she is a prize they can never have.

Wednesday is intoxicating, so Enid understands why so many are attracted. It's hardly surprising with the amount of attention she grabbed with evacuating the students and slaying a pilgrim. Her lil hero, she teases and Wednesday will roll her eyes yet still relax in Enid's hold.

She's pliant like that.

Besides, Wednesday is gorgeous and anyone with two working eyes can see that.

Her dearly roomie is such a pretty lady when walking with Enid to class. Always so prim and proper with her uniform and back so straight. She's beauty, she's grace and she always makes the cutest of faces when Enid sneaks in a peck or two when it's the two of them.

The lovely dear never fails to freeze for a moment, like a rabbit caught by its ears and oh it tempts. Then Wednesday's eyes soften in a way that it makes Enid sheath her claws and she gets pulled into a peck of her own.

It never fails to be sweet, knowing that she has everything she ever needed in arms distance.

But sometimes, people don't know when to keep their hands to themself.

It wasn't exactly shouted to the world that they were a thing but Enid thought it was quite obvious. The jacket Wednesday wears is still soaked with her scent, the mark that showcases that she's Enid is still a raw red so what is she doing wrong?

Ah.

It clicks and the answer is so obvious it has her face palming.

They aren't werewolves so clearly they wouldn't know better. They can't see the way they're bonded either, not with the way the nevermore collar shielded it from sight.

It's standard procedure to stay clear of a recent mated pair. The relationship is too raw, studies say. Don't want to risk a feral werewolf doing something it might regret simply because a threat came walking in, others joke.

Except, no one knew that they were a mated pair. Werewolves mate with werewolves after all but there were rumors and people in nevermore knew better than to get in Enid's way.

But there were a few exceptions, one of them being Wednesday's childhood friend and transfer student for past two weeks; Joel.

Enid frankly stopped caring about him the moment her teeth sunk into that pretty skin. She forgot he even existed until he walked up to the table this morning actually.

He was practically a normie boy, what harm could he do? She thinks. Thinking back on it now, maybe she got a bit carried away with the way she treated him. Maybe he was in the same boat as Eugene?

Tyler was practically a normie boy too, it whispers. Didn't stop him from getting close to Wednesday, did it?

The image has Enid pausing.

She's better now, she cannot just go ahead and throttle a guy because he had too much resemblance to her mate's ex.

She isn't so insecure.

But then Enid turns to say hi, because she's a new person now and everything is better because she is the one with Wednesday not hi-

Joel is leaning too close.

Close enough that she has no choice but to be assaulted by the bitter taste of medicine and alchohol. So a noise builds up from her chest in retaliation.

A growl.

The two of them pause in their conversation and Enid? Shes aware that this is the loudest and most vocal she has ever been about Joel. Because Wednesday is her own person, she can have her own friends and Enid doesn't have the right to dictate that.

But that's not true is it? Wednesday is hers.

She gave herself that night.

Her mate bared her throat with the loviest of gasps escaping those lips and Enid knew very well what such actions meant.

Enid isnt a pup.

She doesn't throw her hands all willy nilly nor does she shout, instead she coughs and plays it off because she's supposed to be caring. Their relationship is too new, too raw and Wednesday enjoys her independence.

Enid doesn't want to think of what will happen if Wednesday thinks of her as a cage instead of a den.

Wednesday is gorgeous, Enid knows this. Wednesday is hers and Enid knows that too. Ofcourse other people will notice something they can't have, ofcourse they'll still try to reach over and take but this is why she is here.

She's there to make sure that they know who belongs to who.

Enid is there to remind Wednesday that even with all the people she dares let in to her life, her wolf will be right there no matter what.

Besides, they can bask in the image Wednesday puts out in the day because at night? When it's simply the two of them?

Enid smiles, curling her fingers inside the heat inbetween Wednesday's legs.

Only she can have this.

Her pretty thing gasps onto the pillow, her eyes drooping into something thats half awake and something else.

"Enid," Wednesday tries to speak but it's hard to talk when a palm grinds against her clit and those fingers sink deeper and deeper. Her darling has always been so sensitive and the wolf can't help a pleased sigh from leaving her lips when Wednesday grips at her wrist, those blunt nails digging onto her skin.

"Enid." it sounds like a warning or maybe she's begging, the line blurs when she sounds so intoxicating either way.

But Enid slows because her dear simply hints it so. Wednesday is warm in her hold, positively overheating and when she lays her head onto her sweet's shoulder from behind, Enid sees the way her dear tries to compose herself. It's adorable, the fact that she squeezes her eyes and thighs shut at the same time. Absolutely lovely to know that only Enid has seen those flushed cheeks and messed hair.

She did this, no one else.

Enid kisses at mating mark, it stopped bleeding long ago but she is tempted to open it once again, drunk on the memory on how Wednesday siezed in her hold. It seems like her beau remembers too because her grip turned lovely when the wolf noses at the wound, the choked noise that spills out of Wednesday's lips tempting Enid to simply sink her teeth in once again.

"finish what you started," she says, her voice cool as a cucumber but enid feels her hand tracing down to push the wolf's own deeper. "Or is this all you can give?"

Enid huffs, aware that she's being egged on as she nipped at the skin on Wednesday's neck. Her dear hums, pushing herself deeper into Enid's hold. Cute, but a part of her stings at the implication of not giving enough.

It's a reminder that despite being such a lovely exception, she's a mortal like the rest.

So like any good hunt, Enid slowly shifts what's hers into a better position. As always, her needy lovely whines when Enid pulls her hands away but after soft reassurances and promises, Wednesday watches with lidded eyes as she's nudged to lay on her back.

Enid places her hands on the band of Wednesday's pants and with one smooth motion, rips it in two.

Wednesday stares, not quite expecting that and before she knows it, she's pulled into a kiss that has her gasping when her wolf's fingers trace lower.

She's going to regret taunting her like that.

-

"Enid, Enid wait-" Wednesday sobs and gosh, she must be doing this on purpose because the way she says it has the wolf salivating. Her dear lies like a lovely doll without it's strings, shivering with hair sticking to her face. What was once such determined eyes were glazed over and oh? Is that a tear, she sees?

Enid smiles. She bent down, uncaring of the way that even the slight brush of her skin against Wednesday has the girl tensing as she ran her tongue over the salty tear.

Yes, this is the Wednesday no one else can see.

This is hers, unequivocally.

She is the first to leave her in this state and she will be the last.

"it's okay," Enid whispers and Wednesday couldn't help but arch into the wolf's soaked fingers, pressing her clit closer and the desperate action has Enid laughing. She really said wait and yet here she is, absolutely impatient.

"just let it out, 'Nes. " a strangled noise escapes Wednesday lips when Enid kisses at the newly bitten wound on her shoulder, running her tongue over left over blood.

"Enid-" Wednesday groans and she jerks her head away, baring more of her throat as the wolf kisses up to her jaw.

"Wednesday," Enid teases, sated yet still craving more as she pushes herself up to admire the sight below her.

It's the first time they've ever gotten this far, the first time Enid has ever seen Wednesday cry actually. If she keeps this up, Enid will get addicted to seeing those eyes wet with tears and nobody wants that.

Unless..?

"this is what you wanted right?" Enid wonders, unbothered by the way Wednesday tried to buck away because when she presses her hand harder against that slick heat, her dearest would grind onto it like some bitch in need in turn. "I need words dear," she coos, watching how Wednesday tries to breath and form words while jerking herself off at the same time.

Enid didnt even need to move a finger and the blond decides that Wednesday looks lovely like this. Desperate, clingy, Needy.

"mm," is the half ass attempt that sighs out of Wednesday's mouth and her hands tighten from it's spot on Enid's forearm.

Enid clicks her tongue, disappointed and begins to pull away.

The reaction is immediate and a whine pulls from her dear's lips when Enid slips her finger out.

"yes!" Wednesday gasps, doing her best to nod her head as she pulls herself into the wolf, her legs trembling. "I want more, Enid please-"

The wolf humms, tracing that lovely marked skin with her free hand. What was once pale clear skin was a canvas filled with blotches of red and more. It would ache for days, Enid made sure of it. Which meant that Wednesday wouldn't allow anyone other than her to be too close.

Good, she counted on that too.

Wednesday jerked at the touch, gasping at the way too light touches and squirming for more.

"like a fish out of water," Enid murmurs and immediately, her nails grew and dug into a thin pressure against that lovely skin. Wednesday threw her head back with a choked moan, coming on Enid's hand once again. She really should've kept count, but the way the bed beneath was absolutely soaked was enough of a counter in her mind.

Enid watches with a curiosity as her dear seemingly came into reality. Those hands that wished and clung for more was now pushing her away. Can you blame enid for pouting and palming that pussy? It was soaked, pulsing so fast that Enid knew that she could handle one more.

Wednesday squeaked, her eyes rolling to the back when Enid pressed her palm against that swollen clit.

"come now Wednesday, what's wrong?" Enid coos, dripping with fake sincerity as those eyes looked up at her. "do you want me to stop? Here I thought you wanted more, dearest. You were begging just a few moments before after all."

"No, I do, just-"

Enid kissed at the tears forming at the corners of Wednesday's eyes. Her roomie's fingers dug deeper into her arm yet they relaxed as Enid began peppering kisses all over her face.

"it's okay, weds. You've been doing so well for me," she murmurs because as much as Enid loves to play with her food, what matters is whether Wednesday had her fun too. "we can stop right now."

They stay like that for a moment, enough for wednesday to try and breathe.

"i," she starts before her hips began to roll against the hand still cupping her core. Her hands move from her arm to up Enid's chest and onto her shoulders. "one more?" Wednesday whispers against Enid's lips, her fingers tightening like she was trying to grab onto the railing that can keep her from crashing into the ocean.

The wolf huffs at that, making sure to bring Wednesday into a kiss that has Enid smiling as she pulled back her hand and brought it down with a muffled smack. The moan that's gasped into her mouth has Enid delighted.

Wednesday trembles and her hands stay digging onto Enid's shoulder when she slips her fingers in. Wednesday seemed better now, more lucid as her eyes drifted from looking at the obscene things Enid was doing to her to the sweat that lines her girlfriend's throat.

She was aiming to give a kiss on her neck, maybe a similar mark to what Enid gave her until she felt a rough palm grind against her clit as the embarrassing sign of what they've been doing grew louder.

Wednesday bit down, pulling Enid into her arms until they were chest to chest and her nails dug deep into her beloathed back.

Her clit was tingling with too much pleasure, and it was hot to the touch. How she wasn't crying more than she already was was a mystery to her.

Wednesday notes the way Enid tenses at her bite, letting out a pleased sigh before looking down at the way she takes her fingers.

Wednesday whined because well, it's embarrassing before reaching her end with a jerk of her hips. It's enough to snap Enid out of her trance. "Enid… Mmm, can't n'emore.. "

Enid pulls out, watching with fascination at the way her hand is absolutely soaked before using her other to rub circles along Wednesday's hip. The wolf licks her hand clean before smiling at the way Wednesday looked away, her skin still a lovely flushed red.

"you taste amazing, dear," Enid teases.

Wednesday made a sound. "pleaser," her rough voice says before relaxing into Enid's hold when the wolf grasps at her face and pulls her into a kiss.

"you did just as good, Wednesday," Enid assures and Wednesday sinks into her arms as the blond flipped them over. She can clean the sheets in the morning.

Now? She'll bask in Wednesday lying on her.

-

First time doing this so idk wtf am I doing so uhhhhh

Enjoy?

Might delete actually bc Jhdakwka I went way too overboard but do tell me your thoughts

#Tongues & teeth au #Writing #Smut #Taser dude #Wenclair #Enid Sinclair #Wednesday addams

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬 ~ 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧ { 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 }

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟔𝟓𝟎

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐭𝐨 “𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐰𝐬”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞?

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢’𝐦 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐢’𝐦 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝐚𝐦

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

You stood there, completely dumbfounded at the man standing in front of you. Had he grown taller since you last saw him? Was it possible that he’d gotten even more handsome? You shook the thoughts from your head, trying to find the right words to say.

“Sirius. What’re you doing here?” You questioned, your gaze falling to the small gift box in his hand.

“Can I come in?” He didn’t wait for your response, stepping right past you and into your home.

“Oh, sure, make yourself at home.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes and shutting the front door.

“We need to talk.”

“Do we really? Cause I was having a good day, and I didn’t need this to ruin it.” You said, crossing your arms across your chest.

“We should sit.” He spoke, ignoring your comment. He pulled out a chair from your kitchen table, sitting down.

You sighed, reluctantly going over and sitting across from him. “What’s this about?”

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you didn’t expect this.” He set the box down on the table, settling into his seat.

“What, expect you to barge into my home unannounced?”

“Your birthday is only a few days away.” He said, slightly quieter than his previous words.

“Yeah, and? Are you upset that you weren’t invited?”

“You’re turning twenty-five.”

“I know that. What’s so important about that?”.

He picked the box up, opening it to reveal an engagement ring. You couldn’t deny that it was beautiful; the hexagonal onyx stone in the middle paired perfectly with the silver band. You could tell that he had picked it himself, as it was absolutely his style.

“We have to get married.” He responded, offering you the box.

“Excuse me?”

“We made a promise, Y/n. We said that if we both weren’t in relationships by this time, we’d marry each other.”

“That was a stupid thing we agreed on as teenagers! I don’t even know you anymore.” You said, pushing the ring box away.

“We made an unbreakable vow. Don’t you remember?” He ignored the hurt that he felt, realising that you had forgotten all about it. He hadn’t gone a single day without thinking about it, or you.

The awareness hit you. You had always tried your best to forget your memories with Sirius, and it had been successful in many ways. You hadn’t remembered your vow until just now, and a chill ran down your spine as you recalled the events from that night years ago.

He spoke again, this time softer than before. “Look, I understand that this isn’t what you want, but we don’t have a choice. It has to be done. And trust me, I don’t want this either.”

You glanced between the ring box and him, nodding slowly. “I suppose marrying you is better than death.”

He couldn’t help but smile slightly, taking the ring out of the box. He took your hand, gently slipping it onto your ring finger. “I know this is a bit tough, but we can make it work.”

“I hope so.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The next day, Remus came over for your weekly movie night and you immediately bombarded him with information about last night’s events.

“…I’m sorry, Y/n. I know this must be so weird for you.”

You nodded, sighing and rubbing your temples. “I don’t want to marry him, Remus.”

“You loved each other once, who says you can’t do it again?” He spoke, looking at you uncertainly. “You know, he asks about you everyday. He never stopped loving you, even after everything that happened. I know that it must pain him to have to reunite with you on such tense terms, considering the fact that he’s been trying to find the courage to speak with you for years.”

“He doesn’t love me, Remus. He just doesn’t want to die.”’

“We’ll see about that.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

✧･ﾟ: *✧���ﾟ:* 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

│𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 │ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 │𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 │ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 │𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 │𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱 │(𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞)

#marauders #harry potter #hp #maraudersera #padfoot #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius orion black #sirius x reader #sirius x y/n #sirius black x y/n #sirius black au