#and all i never wanted anything from you except everything you had and what was left after that too

[mishellii]

♢ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ♢

ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ, ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ, ᴋɪʙᴀ, ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ, ɴᴇᴊɪ & ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ

a/n: sooo my first headcanons yeiih!! this just came flowing out of me while watching boruto tbh because i'm delusional lmao,,,, anyway, very self indulgent as always :) ignore typos pls i cant spell aaaand enjoy xx

likes & reblogs appreciated <3

warnings: none! SFW :) not proofread

masterlist

♢ɴᴀʀᴜᴛᴏ ᴜᴢᴜᴍᴀᴋɪ♢

✿sUCH a messy sleeper

❀he'd toss and turn throughout the whole night, ending up somewhere completely different than where he fell asleep on the bed

❀matching pyjama sets !!!

✿especially seasonal ones, he adores them

✿BLANKET HOGGER !!!

❀but not on purpose really, he just pulls it with him due to all his movements

✿u always wake up with it either on the floor or him laying atop of it

❀sometimes he hits u with his elbow or his feet, but pls don't tell him he WILL cry

✿just push him away, boy will not wake up under any circumstances

❀the both of u alWAYS cuddle when falling asleep

✿the usual position is with his arms around your waist, legs thrown over ur own and his face resting next to ur shoulder

❀for that exact reason he's a BIG SPOON !!

❀so so quick to fall asleep, and wakes up after u as well

✿but not at all groggy in the morning !! he's energetic from the second he opens his eyes and sees u preparing breakfast

❀overall just the softest boyfriend ever

♢ꜱᴀꜱᴜᴋᴇ ᴜᴄʜɪʜᴀ♢

❀now thIS dude sleeps like a corpse

✿he's not particularly prone on cuddling u, but he fairly enjoys having ur head on his chest and feeling ur fingertips draw circles against his skin

❀he'd never admit it tho obviously

✿mostly wears a black lose t-shirt and some short sweats or sumn 

❀just comfortable all around

✿i'm a firm believer in the back position

❀laying flat on the mattress, one arm either around u, or both resting on his belly

✿light sleeper, if i may

❀takes him pretty long to fall asleep as well, but counting ur breath usually calms him and makes it easier

✿u make everything easier for him actually

❀doesn't really care about a blanket, it all really depends on what u prefer while sleeping

✿often awoken by nightmares, but won't ever wake u up or tell u the next day because he thinks it's embarrassing

❀refuses to leave the bed in the morning, but isn't moody at all just very quiet

✿always helps u make breakfast and makes the bed without having to ask him to

❀overall just a calm lover

♢ᴋɪʙᴀ ɪɴᴜᴢᴜᴋᴀ♢

❀without a doubt, a snorer

✿like IM SORRY LADIES but c'mon

❀but not annoyingly loud, just breathy lil snores

✿the problem with it is: he won't move an INCH away from u ever, he's all up in ur business while sleeping

❀doesn't matter how, he's always got to feel u next to him somehow

✿i take him as a sleep talker too, mumbling incoherent words against your neck which only make u laugh tbh

❀akamaru's got his own bed next to the two of u, but some nights he crawls in between ur bodies, practically suffocating u

✿you really don't mind on colder nights, but in summer kiba makes him get off, due to having such a high body temperature already and he doesn't want u to complain even more

❀wore a shirt and pants at the beginning of ur relationship

✿but now??? u'd have to FORCE him to wear anything more than boxers

❀hates when u don't want to cuddle :(( might as well kill him fr

✿why need a blanket when he has you??

❀doesn't leave the bed AT ALL in the morning, u literally have to grab him by the feet and drag him out of it

✿he's a sweetheart, really

♢ꜱʜɪᴋᴀᴍᴀʀᴜ ɴᴀʀᴀ♢

❀dude HATES cuddling at the beginning of ur relationship, me thinks

✿but fear not, it just takes a bit of convincing from ur side and he's in on it

❀but it's subtle touches really, like holding his hand or having ur feet intertwined

✿if u've had a bad day, he'd definitely play with your hair to make u fall asleep, he's not a diCK

❀grey sweats all the way !!!!!

✿rarely ever wears a shirt, except for when it's cold of course

❀he seems much more like a light sleeper than not, but he's so grouchy when something wakes him up it's a drag really 

✿has to be completely dark and quiet in his room or he won't be able to close one eye

❀always sleeps on the side closest to the door

✿big on talking about both ur days at night because he's a very private person and loves spending time with u ALONE

❀deep talk at 2am?? u can bet on it

✿forehead kisses!!! once u wake up and neither of u want to get up and start ur day

❀he's such an attentive lover in general, i'm actually going insane 

♢ɴᴇᴊɪ ʜʏᴜɢᴀ♢

❀oh my lovely boy

✿i feel like he wouldn't move a MUSCLE while sleeping

❀sometimes you have to poke him to make sure he's still alive

✿AHEM

❀a light sleeper foshou

✿also ????

❀he would 100% wait for u to fall asleep first

✿would always run his fingertips over your back to make you tired

❀unfortunately, the closest to cuddling u two do, is ur head on his chest

✿he gets sweaty quickly, so he'll often sleep without a shirt (which u don't complain about obviously) and that's the reason why he doesn't necessarily NEED body contact (in this situation only!!)

❀but HUGE PLUS he'll sweet talk you to sleep almost every night 

✿asking about ur day from begin to end

❀he wants to know it ALL

✿in general, he's really big on making you as comfortable as possible before bed

❀would even wait till the morning to go pee because you look so peaceful laying on his chest

✿don't mind him watching u he just thinks ur so pretty ok

❀u wake up to the smell of coffee almost every morning

✿overall, as we been knew, the gentlest gentlemen to perhaps ever gentleman goodbye

♢ᴋᴀᴋᴀꜱʜɪ ʜᴀᴛᴀᴋᴇ♢

❀poor baby's the king of light sleepers

✿always ready to jump into battle and protect u if he has to, even if u convince him that ur safe and nothing's going to happen :(

❀casually wears a black tanktop and some sweats, mask and shinobi headband easily reachable on the bedside table at his right side

✿definitely enjoys u playing with his hair too much

❀he prefers to fall asleep with his head either on your chest or tugged just under your chin so he can hear you breathe and ur heart beat

✿he's so tragic oh my days

❀anYWAY light snores but only when he's REALLY gone and u rarely ever see him in this state so,,,,,

✿loves listening to ur stories before falling asleep

❀legs & arms intertwined and allathat 

✿you will never lay in bed without him picking up one of his books at least ONCE

❀it really calms him down u know

✿but start a conversation with him, and he's all urs, book long forgotten next to his mask and headband.

❀always wakes up earlier than u, preparing breakfast with said book between his fingers 

✿(he swears he'll close it once ur awake tho)

❀((he does))

a/n: AHEM i hope u liked it ???? pls tell me ??? AAAA i will see u beans next time bye bye xx

devider by @enchanthings

#it's 3am i should sleep #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto headcanons #naruto fanfiction #sasuke uchiha #sasuke #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha fanfiction #kiba inuzuka #kiba #kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka x reader #kiba inuzuka fanfiction #shikamaru #shikamaru nara #my MAN perhaps #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru nara x reader #neji hyuga #neji hyuuga #neji x reader #neji hyuuga x reader #neji hyuga x reader #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Megumi falling in love for the first time?

Attempts at Friendship are Unappreciated

Synopsis: Megumi doesn’t have a need for friends, let alone a lover. But upon getting his first crush, he learns some new things about himself, like maybe he cares more than he thinks.

pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x GN!Reader

content warning: SFW, potential friends to lovers, Megumi sorting out his feelings sort of stuff because cynical, overthinker Megumi is my favorite Megumi.

If you were to ask Megumi, he didn’t have any need for friends. And he has been asked before by people like Gojo and his sister. The answer was always the same. He prefers being alone. People were too complicated. Too selfish. Too good. Too everything, really. And he was, well, himself.

Even after arriving at Jujutsu High, it’s still unnerving to him to have someone talk to him so earnestly, like his eyes weren’t permanently fixed with irritation, like he wasn’t constantly avoiding others, like he didn’t wear indifference like a new fur coat in the height of winter.

Itadori was an unexpected exception. An outburst of emotion intravenously linked him to the other boy, the golden strings of their destinies twined and knotted together on Fate’s spinning wheel.

You, on the other hand, have no reason to befriend him. He’s never had anything to offer others in return for their company, which never bothered him until he met you.

Megumi questioned what it was about you that allows you to get so close. So, he lets you talk, chattering his ear off in the covered walkway hosting the vending machines.

He studies you inch by inch, searching for something in the bright expression on your face and the crinkle of your eyes when you smile; he still doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking for. Your motive – the reason for wanting to talk to someone like him?

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask.

“I don’t have one.”

It may sound like a rude dismissal of your question but it's the truth, the painfully boring truth. He’s never put much thought into trivial things like that. The fact settles heavily in his stomach and rings hollow in his chest like when his sister said he’d never learn to make friends if he didn’t put himself out there.

Back then, Megumi pretended not to have heard her. In truth, it bothered him when she said it, only for the feeling to quickly fade away before he even left school that day. That strange void he felt back then always seems to resurface at the worst of times.

“Would you say that you like black or silver better? How about blue?”

Megumi looks down and plays with the tab on his orange juice can, avoiding the thing about you that makes him want to hear you talk. Megumi has no need for friends. Attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

“They’re all fine,” he grumbles out. It’s the maximum he allows.

Megumi doesn’t have a type. It’s another one of those trivial things he’s never bothered to think about until his head was literally cracked through the pavement.

He knows all about types though, and he knows as much as he cares about romance from the bad to the good. Sweaty palms, blushing faces, pounding hearts were all reoccuring themes in his books.

Megumi never thought he’d have romantic feelings for anyone, no matter how fleeting. He reckons he isn’t capable of it. He just isn’t wired that way.

It’s comforting in a sense. It means he didn’t have to worry about attachments. Sure, he loves his sister, and Gojo, well, he cares for his benefactor, but he’s never considered the older man someone he felt okay investing all his feelings into. People his own age were complicated enough; adults were worse, his father was worse; the little he remembers anyway.

When he thinks about the way he met Gojo who too conveniently saved him from the Zen’in clan in exchange for becoming his student, it’s hard for him to let his trust flow purely even after all this time; even when Gojo took it upon himself to do Megumi favors like putting Itadori's room right next door (another thing Megumi didn't appreciate).

Megumi blames his long-seated resentment for the reason his heart starts to work overtime the day you present friendship bracelets to everyone. They’re fancy; many steps above the cheap kind that you’d find at some discount convenience store with plastic alphabets and random beads and symbols. He assumes a couple of the pieces might be real.

Kugisaki’s is green, shining on her wrist like emeralds. Megumi thinks it suits someone like Kugisaki, who would undoubtedly love to be covered in jewels. Itadori has a similar one, rotating with a pattern of red and opaque white pieces.

Standing in that hall, drowning out the conversation between Kugisaki and Itadori about who has the prettier bracelet, Megumi realizes he’s next.

It starts when you step in front of him; there’s a cautious tone to your voice when you say his name because you already know: attempts at friendship aren’t appreciated.

It's with a roll of anxiousness, the one that always comes with the mystery of whether his exchange with someone will be positive or negative and the skeptic thought in his head that reminds him most people always want something in return, that makes him throw up a wall.

“These probably aren’t your thing but I made one for you too,” you preface. “I hope you like it. I wasn’t really sure what to put on it so I made some guesses.”

You’re right. Friendship bracelets aren’t his thing; needing a token like a bracelet to prove your relationship to someone is asinine. It’s against what is supposed to make a friendship special. Strong friendships should need no words, right?

Most importantly, he doesn’t need it, and there’s no reason for you to give him one.

“You keep it,” he starts. However, it’s already too late as you grab his arm and slide the trinket over his hand.

“I don’t—” he starts again; there’s a bit of surprise in the way you look at him, the way everyone stops and looks at him actually. This quickly becomes one of those times where it’d be easier to go with the flow than to fight the current. “Fine.” He clears his throat. “Only because you already made it,” he explains more fully, stifling the embarrassment that wants to bubble from his chest with so much attention.

Like before, he finds himself too focused on watching you, the way your eyes soften from surprise and rejection to shining stars. He thinks this must be how the protagonists in those books feel when heat creeps up their neck. Those books also left him sorely unprepared that it would go past neck to his face and ears.

He breaks away from the situation, finding a way to retreat into the background to shield himself from the gooey feeling permeating the air. He drops his gaze to his arm, focusing on the bracelet with his name accompanied by a repetition of blue and silver, connecting the two—four—of you together.

Megumi fixes his sleeve over the bracelet, but he can’t hide how painfully aware he is of the charms rolling against his skin.

It was both a pleasant feeling and completely alien.

It broke.

Megumi was a bit reckless against a low-level curse, and it broke. He didn’t even realize it until after the battle was over and one of the silver charms were rolling under his foot.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal. It was bound to happen eventually considering this line of work. Yet, he still picked up the few pieces he could separate from the gravel, and the entire ride home his wrist feels unreasonably bare.

Thinking about how he messed up makes him annoyed at himself, especially when he wonders what you’d think if you noticed he wasn’t wearing it. You’d probably think he tossed it somewhere; that he didn’t like it. He liked it. The same way he likes to listen to you talk on car rides home after missions or when you ask him to hang out with you and the others or when you read all the books he recommends with the protagonists that are quickly becoming too relatable with every skipped heartbeat and tongue-tied word. He’s frustrated to acknowledge why that’s the case.

It’s only been three months since the start of the school year, he thinks. It took only three months for his thoughts to start drifting to his classmates, with you almost always center stage in them.

When he arrives back at the school, he finds your room and knocks on your door. He shows you what little remains of the gift you gave him, as if he needs to immediately absolve himself of any wrongdoing.

“Do you want me to make you another one?” you ask cautiously.

Megumi can guess why you’re hesitant considering he only accepted your gift because of peer pressure. He still believes gifts like this are silly and unnecessary.

But…

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

He wants it.

So, he goes into your room where he watches you begin the process of making him another bracelet. You ask him which accessories he would prefer, and like always he doesn’t have much preference other than what you think is best. As long as it isn’t too silly, of course.

He gives his undivided attention to how your fingertips pour over your work kit and the many square boxes filled with different miniature shapes before you carefully pick out one with a little dog face.

“I think this one is good,” you whisper to yourself before continuing your search for another complementing bead.

You smile as you work. It’s nice. Cute even as you bite down on your lip in concentration; and right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with that information other than note the way it makes his palms feel clammy especially when he notices your eyes lift back up to his.

Megumi notices a lot about you actually. He notices how you always go out your way to get his, well, everyone’s opinion on everything. He notices that whenever you share your snacks with everyone that you always save ginger for him. He notices how your gaze lingers on him when you ask if everyone is in one piece after difficult missions. He also notices how your finger stops over a silver square, one with a little black heart carved in each side. He wonders, perhaps too hopefully, if the charm is just one you think he’d like or if it means more than that.

“Why do you always keep trying to talk to me?” he asks, fighting the urge to beg you to stop getting stuck in his mind so much.

Your head snaps up from what you’re doing.

“What do you mean? We’re teammates,” you answer simply.

“Aren’t missions enough? We don’t need to interact aside from that.”

You pinch your eyebrows at him, and there’s a frown on your face. “Sure we do.”

“There’s no reason.”

It’s not like he ever saved your life, not like Itadori. It’s not like he has a somewhat familial relationship with you, like Gojo. You’re not his sibling or his parent; he’s not the friendlist either so there’s no reason to try to get closer any more than necessary, and there’s no reason for him to be feeling so nervous right now.

“How about because I like talking to you? I think you’re pretty funny, and you’re a kind person.” You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t know. I just like being friends with you.”

Megumi doesn’t know what he was expecting. Some deep explanation why you keep trying to get close to him? Some selfish excuse from you that he could use to warrant pushing you away. A reason to justify why he likes you so much? A reason to hope you like him just as much?

Maybe.

There doesn’t need to be some special reason for you wanting to be his friend, which means he doesn’t really need a reason either.

“I see.”

“Finished,” you say, holding out his newly made bracelet to him. “I poured some of my cursed energy into it, so it won’t break so easily next time.”

Megumi feels calm once again when he feels the weight and roll of the beads on his skin again; the aura of your curse energy humming through it makes the connection back to you much more noticeable.

“What about me?” you ask, drawing his attention. “Do you like being friends with me?”

Megumi can’t answer that, not because he doesn’t have an answer, but because he feels like his tongue weighs more than lead as you lean closer into him.

His eyes find your lips, soft and parted. This is the first time he’s gotten the urge to kiss someone. It makes his stomach whirlwind, and he quickly finds a way to answer you without having to look at you as he picks at one of the charms.

“Can I make you one?”

The next morning, Megumi decides to go out with you and the others for breakfast, which in hindsight was a mistake as Itadori points out the new accesory you’re wearing on your wrist.

“Hey, you got one too now.”

You smile, holding it up proudly. “Megumi made it for me!”

“Megumi?!” Itadori blurts out.

“Made it for you?” Nobara asks with raised eyebrows and a hand on her hip.

“He did a really good job.”

It’s like the time before when you first gave them their gifts, and everyone is looking at him again. “I didn’t do anything special; a monkey could do it,” he mumbles out.

Itadori is the first to crack a laugh followed by Kugisaki. Then, the two of them start muttering and teasing him in unison.

“He’s so modest,” Itadori points out.

“Loverboy,” Kugisaki whispers.

“Can we call you Megumi too?” Itadori asks.

Megumi doesn’t have the patience to consider whether the other boy is being genuine or not as he grits his teeth and growls out a quick “shut up” before konking Itadori on the head to prove his point. It’s enough to make them leave him alone for now as Itadori accidentally trips into Kugisaki from the force.

“That was completely unnecessary, Fushiguro,” Kugisaki grumbles as she pushes Itadori off and stands back to her feet.

Megumi sighs.

This is why he doesn’t want friends.

“Did you just sigh at me!”

“If that’s what you heard,” he tells her.

“You better sleep with both eyes open!”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

Yet if it’s those two then he guesses having friends isn’t completely unbareable.

Suddenly, Megumi loses focus at the timbre of your laugh.

“You guys are starting early today.”

You’re still laughing at them, harder now actually, and it’s precious. He throws his gaze to the wall as if he’s ignoring Kugisaki and not trying to hide the heat blooming on his cheeks when you glance at him, making him aware that he’s the reason for your laughter.

Megumi shoves his hands in his pockets and rolls his thumb over the bracelet and the heart you left behind there.

Friendship is something he’s coming around to. Having a crush for the first time, well, he still needs work on figuring that out. 

#megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[freelancearsonist]

so scarlet, it was...

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader - 1.3k

➔ “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

➔ Rated MA for dark fic kinda, a/b/o themes (alpha joel, omega reader), established... situationship? i guess, pregnancy/contemplation of termination, contemplation of self harm, reader is not in a good headspace. one instance of vomiting, joel is not very nice, this fic in general is not very nice. takes place three years post outbreak. [please let me know if i missed any warnings so i can add them in :)]

➔ thank you so much to my darling @bitchwitch1981 for the prompt, i'm so sorry this is probably very much not what you wanted 🤣 extra special thank you to @perotovar for making this wonderful joel gif for me, if ur reading this ily <3

You’ve never actually used one of these things before. You’ve only read about them in books or seen them in movies from years ago, and they’ve only ever been an object of abject horror.

You understand why now, looking down at those two little lines on the stick cradled in your hand. You’ve never been quite so terrified in your life.

You never should’ve pocketed this test when you found it in that miraculously untouched drug store. You could’ve stayed blissfully unaware. Better yet, you should’ve been more careful. Three years of living like this has been more than enough to make you firm in your decision to never bring life into this broken world. This isn’t a place for a child, this is barely even a place for you. Every day is a fight, every waking moment is a nightmare. But you’ve been so careless with him and now it’s all crashing down, this blissful bubble where you can pretend that everything might be okay because you have the pack and, more importantly, him. 

You won’t have him for much longer when he finds out about this.

You wonder what it’ll take to right this wrong before he finds out about it. It must be pretty early, so maybe it won’t take much to reverse it. Maybe all you’ll have to do is bump into something just right, or trip over the right log.

The thought makes you sick–more stomach bile than anything else coming up because you’ve hardly had more to eat than stale beef jerky and some precarious berries in the past few days. Resources have been so slim; another reason this can’t be happening. You hardly have enough to tide you over, much less a child. And it’ll be even worse once the pack abandons you.

You bury yourself into the haphazard nest of blankets and his worn clothes, letting the heavy, musky scent of him soothe your wracking sobs. 

Maybe you should just accept your fate now, sacrifice yourself for the good of the pack. Everyone is going to die eventually, after all–sooner rather than later in this world. You’ve only been postponing the inevitable. They never have to know why you do it, and it’ll be one less mouth to feed. Two, technically, but they’ll never have to know that. He won’t even really miss you, it’ll be one less burden on his hands. On all of their hands.

You don’t hear them return early from scavenging–maybe because the volume of your own sobs drowns out any other noise. Or maybe because he can sense something is wrong as he enters the run-down little shack you’ve been holed up in for the past few weeks, and he softens his approach because of it.

Joel has never been quite as tender as he is when he takes you into his arms, pulling your face out of the pile of fabric to wipe at your tear-streaked cheeks.

“My omega, shhhh, I’m here. It’s okay,” he murmurs, wrapping you into his big, strong, safe arms. He doesn’t know. Maybe he thinks you had a nightmare, or you just missed him, or a million other things except the truth. But he doesn’t know, and you know he doesn’t know because you feel the moment he connects the dots. His eyes drop to the little white stick clutched tightly in your fist and his entire body stiffens like a board. Suddenly there’s no more warmth or comfort to his touch, nothing soothing about the pheromones drifting from him. He pulls away like you’re infected, and maybe you are. Maybe the thing that’s taken root in you is worse than cordyceps could ever hope to be.

You’ve never been terrified of him before. Joel is dark and brooding and imposing, but he’s only ever fought to protect you. His omega, who wormed their way under his skin despite him fighting it every step of the way. His omega, who’s been the only source of anything remotely close to comfort he’s had since outbreak day. His omega, who’s given him purpose in this dark world.

His omega, who’s betrayed him in such an unforgivable way.

“What the fuck.” There’s nothing but venom in his tone–he looks at you with pure disgust and your resolve crumbles.

Maybe there was a little, tiny, miniscule part of you that hoped it would be different. That he would be excited to be a father, or at least be understanding. But that hope dies so suddenly when you look up into his scowling face. He towers over you, dark eyes flashing with anger, and for the first time since you met him two long years ago you’re scared.

“You were supposed to be careful.” His voice rises further and further with each syllable, as if this isn’t partially his fault too. As if he wasn’t the one in such an uncontrollable rut last month that he kept you in bed all week, losing the willpower required to pull out with each powerful thrust of his hips. As if it isn’t his seed blooming in your womb as you speak.

“What do we do now, huh?” He growls, eyes darkening, fists clenching at his sides. “I’ve fucking marked you, I can’t turn you loose! And we barely make it by as we are! How the fuck are we supposed to handle this?”

He rants for what seems like hours and you flinch with every booming word, curling tighter around yourself in a desperate attempt to simply disappear; to not have to deal with this any more because your heart shatters with each irreversible word he throws at you. You shrink and shrink and shrink in hopes of vanishing because this is undoable. No matter what happens, nothing will ever go back to the way it was and that’s the knowledge that crushes you completely.

Your voice is so small when he finally quiets enough for you to speak. “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

Joel stops in his tracks, white knuckles unclenching for the first time in minutes. He sees the fear and regret in your eyes, and he almost lets it soften him. He loathes himself for this look on your face–for making you scared of him.

His omega. So small and fragile, curled in a pile of his clothes because his scent brings you comfort. He’s dedicated two years of his time and effort to keeping you safe and comfortable, if not happy. He’s supposed to protect you, not hurt you. He’s supposed to give you children and raise them with you, be a family with you. That’s what being your alpha means, and he has so sorely failed you. 

But he knows he can never do that again. That’s never what this was supposed to be. He didn’t mark you out of anything but necessity–if he had let your uncontrolled scent waft every time you went into heat, every alpha in the country would be targeting your little pack of four. You’re his omega out of biological necessity–a warm hole to fill when his rut threatens to tear already strenuous ties with his brother and Tess. That’s what he tells himself because the alternative is so startlingly incomprehensible that he won’t allow himself to even consider the fact that he might care about you; that the urge to care for you and protect you is more than primal, biological instinct; that you mean more to him than anyone ever has.

Not just his omega now, but his mate. His unborn child is growing and growing and growing with each passing second inside your womb and he’s powerless to stop it.

“We’re thirty-seven miles from the Boston QZ,” he growls from somewhere deep in his chest. “We leave at first light.”

You don’t get a chance to argue or plead your case before the door slams shut behind him. 

➔ beta: @beskarandblasters and @fhatbhabie; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #alpha!joel miller #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #dark fic #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #cece writes

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make you love me

for @subeddieweek day three with the prompts brat eddie and wet and choking

rated e | 2,978 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

He’s left on his knees, blindfolded.

There’s no sound in the room, nothing to give away what’s coming next.

Fingers in his hair. Hand around his throat. Lips against his ear.

“You’re helpless like this, aren’t you?”

Eddie whined.

Whining never got him anywhere except in more trouble, and sometimes Eddie really liked being in trouble.

And because Steve was always honest after a scene, he admitted that he loved when Eddie was a brat, loved to see him subtly ignore Steve’s directions and make little noises even when he was supposed to be quiet. Eddie played into it sometimes, but it came naturally for him to ignore orders, even when he was floating away in his head.

The hand around his throat tightened for a moment, barely enough to actually cut off his air, and then disappeared completely.

“I know what you want, but if you can’t be my good boy, you don’t get to have it. You know better,” Steve said from behind him.

Eddie’s hands weren’t tied, they hardly ever were if he was blindfolded. The only time he’d had to safeword was when he’d been tied up in bed and blindfolded with a gag in. He felt too helpless, past the point of enjoying whatever control Steve had and into dangerous territory. But he knew not to move them.

Moving them would mean punishment, and never the kind he actually wanted.

Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging at his scalp until he had no choice but to let his head fall backwards. He rested it against Steve’s thigh, a smug smile making its way across his face.

“You want me to be your good boy?” Eddie rasped out. “Maybe I don’t feel like being good.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, not even letting out a breath.

“I’m not spanking you.”

Eddie immediately pouted. It’s not that he thought he’d get what he wanted immediately, but that tone was definite, final.

“Not even one time?” Eddie hated not being able to see the look on Steve’s face. “Even if I promise to cry?”

Steve snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be crying soon enough, but it won’t be from my hand on your ass.”

Steve’s leg disappeared from behind him so quickly he nearly fell backwards. He managed to right himself just as Steve’s laugh hit his ears.

“Take away your sight and it’s like you can’t do anything, huh?” Steve teased. “I’ll just wait right here and you let me know when you wanna be good.”

“Hope you’re comfy. Could be a while,” Eddie responded, ignoring the heat on his cheeks at his mild embarrassment. Steve knew exactly what buttons to push and when, but Eddie knew exactly how hard to fight back to get what he wanted.

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet.

Everything was still.

Eventually, Eddie sighed. “Are you really gonna try to be more stubborn than me, a brat?”

“You’re barely a brat, Eddie. Just need to learn lessons the hard way, don’t you?” Steve sounded like he was sitting on his bed, but it was hard to know for sure. “I have all night. I’ve got a drink and a comfy bed. I’ll be fine.”

“You know I like being on my knees. I’ll be fine, too.”

Except he wasn’t. Already, all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch Steve, to be touched by Steve. His knees were sore, his arms were sore, his ass was sore from sitting on his feet this long. He was already close to giving in when the sound of Steve’s belt coming off distracted him.

He’d had plenty of thoughts about how that belt could be used before, and wouldn’t really be opposed to any of those options now.

But the belt hit the floor and the bed creaked.

Steve wasn’t using the belt on him. Steve was relaxing in his bed. Probably not even paying any attention to Eddie or his hard and leaking cock.

Fucking rude.

Eddie’s fingers tapped against each other behind his back, maybe a song or maybe just impatience. Probably impatience. His head wasn’t full of anything except irritation at being ignored.

He knew that’s what Steve wanted, for the irritation to win and he would give in to whatever Steve desired. He’d crawl on his hands and knees over to the bed, apologizing for being a brat and begging to be touched, to get his mouth on Steve’s cock, anything.

Eddie would be lying if he didn’t want that, too.

But more than that, he wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t give in for once, if Steve finally got tired of the attitude and did something about it.

Maybe he’d actually, finally fuck him.

Everything they’d done until now had been hands and mouths only, which was amazing and better than anything Eddie could have expected from anyone, let alone Steve.

After a hard day at school, coming back home and knowing that Steve would be over after his shift at Family Video to take care of him or to bring him back to his house to let him get loud would turn his entire day around. It happened often enough that he knew he was becoming somewhat dependent on it. But with nearly two months of this under their belt, Eddie was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one with feelings far beyond the trust between friends.

Steve let out a groan.

And then Eddie heard it: the slick noise of him stripping his own cock, probably using the lube from his bedside table. Or his own spit.

God, that made Eddie see red.

It was his job to spit on Steve’s cock, his job to let his hand or mouth be used by Steve so he could get off.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized this was Steve’s punishment for him, making him listen to him get off without him.

“Wish that was my hand,” Eddie said with a smirk.

If he played this right, maybe Steve would get desperate enough to give in.

“I bet you do, baby,” Steve replied, breathless, like he was already close to the edge. How long had he been worked up? How had he been so quiet before?

“Or my mouth,” Eddie supplied, feeling a little less confident that Steve would give in.

“Mhm,” Steve said before moaning, his hand speeding up on his cock.

Eddie wanted to watch. He wanted his mouth around him. He wanted Steve’s hands in his hair, pushing him down until he was choking, spit making a mess under them. He wanted to rip this blindfold off and let the image of Steve getting himself off be burned permanently into his brain, used for the nights when Steve was busy shuffling kids around or hanging out with Robin or working a closing shift.

“Can I please watch?” Eddie was desperate, okay? Being a brat came second to seeing Steve’s thick cock leaking precum while he fucked his own hand.

“Oh, I dunno,” Steve’s hand stopped. “I think you should have to listen to me get off since you decided to touch yourself without permission.”

That was how all of this started.

—

Steve had told him not to touch himself last night when he left the trailer, wanted to see if he could go a few days without it and said he had a plan to make it worth his while.

Of course, Eddie, still wrung out from two back-to-back orgasms from Steve’s mouth, had agreed with no argument.

It didn’t occur to him how difficult that would be until he woke up humping his mattress and whimpering Steve’s name.

He’d done okay the first part of the day, despite the rough start, because he’d overslept and had to rush to school. He made it all the way through his band practice with the guys, skipping the song he wrote about Steve so he wouldn’t face any unexplainable challenges. Made it through dinner with Wayne, though he started to feel a bit jittery when he realized it was nearly seven and Steve hadn’t called to let him know he was leaving work yet.

Those jitters got worse when Wayne left for his night shift, now officially a permanent change to his schedule. It was great for having Steve over, but kinda sucked for the nights when he’d be alone.

He paced the floor, tried playing his guitar, tried smoking.

When the phone rang, Eddie rushed to grab it, only to be told by Steve that he was running a bit late and wouldn’t be able to stay long.

Something in Eddie snapped when he hung up.

His hand immediately went to the button on his jeans, popping it open and shoving his hand down the front of his pants.

Nothing except getting off was on his mind.

That’s how Steve found him: pants at his knees while he fisted his own cock while sitting on the couch waiting for him.

At first, he hadn’t said anything, just stared at him until Eddie stopped moving, chest heaving as he tried to find his breath.

“Get in my car.”

Not even a hello, not even a wave.

He didn’t even stay inside to see if Eddie was listening. He left the trailer and got in his car.

Eddie followed. Of course, he did.

The ride to Steve’s house was silent, radio turned off to add to Eddie’s stress.

He was still rock hard in his pants, and the longer he went without any relief, the more painful it got.

When they got to Steve’s house, he got out, not waiting for Eddie as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. Eddie stumbled out of the car and into the house, feeling just a bit on edge in more ways than one.

“So I ask you not to touch yourself less than 24 hours ago. I even tell you there’s a reward in it for you if you can do it. And what do you do?” Steve’s arms are folded across his chest as he stands at the foot of the stairs.

“Um. Touch myself?”

“You wanna explain?”

Eddie hated that tone. It sounded like every time a teacher found one of his papers lacking despite all his efforts, or when a cop caught him dealing in the woods last year. It was different when it was Steve, but it still annoyed him, put him on edge.

So he responded as he always did.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

And now he was suffering.

–

Not actually. Like, he wasn’t in pain. He was probably going to come untouched soon just from the combination of everything happening, and the embarrassment of that would probably be emotionally painful, but he’d been through worse.

It was just hard to know he was missing a good show and probably wouldn’t even get to have Steve’s hands on him because he was impatient.

So maybe the punishment was working.

Eddie felt himself whimper.

“Color?” Steve asked, because he was always paying attention, even when Eddie deserved this treatment. He was always more concerned about Eddie being okay.

Eddie evaluated himself. Mentally, he was okay, other than being frustrated. But physically, his legs were starting to actually hurt to a point beyond the kind he enjoyed. He was losing feeling in his feet and hated the pins and needles that came with feeling coming back.

“Yellow.”

Steve was in front of him within seconds, hand on his head, loosening the blindfold.

The blindfold wasn’t a problem. Maybe he could convince him to put it back once he was sitting somewhere more comfortable.

“What do you need, Eds?” Steve’s voice was soft, tender compared to where it had been all night.

“Maybe a chair? Or the bed. My legs hurt.” Eddie blinked up at him, feeling overwhelmed by seeing Steve’s completely naked body in front of him so suddenly.

“Alright. Come up to the bed,” Steve lifted him under his arms, taking most of his weight when Eddie nearly crumbled back to the floor.

His legs were maybe a bit more numb than he realized.

“Shit, baby, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Steve asked as he half-carried him to his bed. “I’m trying to punish you in a sexy way, not an actual painful way.”

Eddie snorted. “I didn’t realize it was this bad. I was kinda lost in my thoughts.”

“You weren’t in space yet, though.”

“No, just thinking about how I’m an idiot and how good you are at knowing exactly what type of punishment gets to me,” Eddie grimaced as he sat back, flexing his knees and ankles to get feeling back in them.

“Well, you like attention and you like being able to touch me, so taking those two things away will definitely get to you.”

“You’re right, but it hurt my feelings, Stevie,” Eddie smiled at him to let him know it didn’t actually hurt him.

“You need anything else?” Steve asked, massaging his legs to get blood flowing again. “Water? Do you need to stop?”

“No, no. I’m good. Maybe just another minute.”

Steve nodded, lifting his leg and kissing his knee.

Eddie watched, swallowed back the words he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t.

This was all he’d have. Just this friendship, this trust, and the care required for a BDSM relationship.

He could keep being okay with that.

“No blindfold though,” Steve said. “You’re gonna watch me take care of myself.”

“But-”

“Nope.” Steve’s hand circled his own cock, not moving, just making it obvious that he was planning on it. “You know what you can do for me, though?”

“What?” Eddie didn’t like the tone of his voice or the growing smile on his face.

“You could spit on my cock, make sure it’s nice and wet for me to get myself off.”

Eddie groaned. He absolutely hated Steve. Hated that Steve was still pushing him in just the right ways. Hated that he actually loved it, never wanted him to stop.

“And if I don’t?” Eddie dared to ask.

“Then I stop now and drive you home.”

Shit. Eddie knew he wasn’t bluffing.

Eddie leaned over, making sure to keep his hands in his own lap, gathered spit in his mouth, and let it drip down onto Steve’s cock.

Steve moaned as it happened, keeping his eyes locked on Eddie’s as he let it pool against his fingers before sliding his hand up and down his length.

Eddie spit again, letting his gaze drop to the way it glistened on Steve’s cock. Mesmerized, Eddie kept his mouth open, letting whatever spit that gathered fall from his mouth.

“Such a good boy for me. Love it when you’re good.” Steve’s other hand nudged Eddie’s face up, eyes piercing him with a hungry look. “Kinda love it when you’re bad, too.”

If Eddie hadn’t already been rock hard for hours, practically edging himself with his own hand and thoughts, then maybe those words wouldn’t have been enough to make him come.

Steve froze, looking down at Eddie’s still twitching cock, the mess he made across his own stomach and thighs. “Holy shit. C’mere,” Steve’s hands grabbed him, tugging him roughly into his lap and spreading the mess of Eddie across both of them and the sheets.

Steve’s lips were hot against his, bruising, rough, unyielding.

Eddie’d never been kissed like that, not even by Steve.

If he could get hard this second from it, he would.

“That was so fucking hot,” Steve gasped against his lips, barely breaking the kiss to speak.

Eddie whimpered, rutting his ass against Steve’s still slick cock, hoping to add to the mess between them.

Steve’s hand ran up his chest, squeezing a nipple between his fingers as he bucked up, seeking more friction. He didn’t need to say anything for Eddie to know he was close.

His hand inched closer to Eddie’s throat, and for a moment, just one, Eddie panicked.

They’d talked about this. Eddie said he wouldn’t trust anyone but Steve, Steve admitted he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for anyone but Eddie, they agreed on what to do if Eddie couldn’t talk and needed to safeword out.

But the moment Steve’s fingers wrapped around his throat, Eddie melted.

Steve barely applied any pressure, just let the weight of his hand rest on his skin, holding him with a silent threat and a strength he never used except when he wanted to throw Eddie around and make him feel good.

“Can’t believe how lucky I am,” Steve said against his jaw, frantically chasing his own orgasm while Eddie was barely holding himself up in his lap. “Get to have you like this. All to myself.”

Steve’s breathy whine gave way to his hand falling from Eddie’s neck.

Warmth hit Eddie’s ass and thighs and he realized the angle of Steve’s cock was almost perfect to slide inside him, if he were loose, if he were wet in the right spot. He closed his eyes at the thought of Steve just slipping into him now, no prep. It was nearly enough to have his cock filling again.

“Fuck,” Steve laughed against Eddie’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Eddie tensed.

Steve tensed.

Steve pulled away, panic all over his face.

Eddie didn’t-

He couldn’t-

He got off of Steve’s lap, crashing down to earth.

“Eddie-”

Eddie stood and ran.

He could handle not being loved.

He was used to not being loved the way he needed and wanted to be.

But he couldn’t handle the small flicker of hope being dashed in his chest. He couldn’t handle the pity Steve would show, apologizing for saying something he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.

He couldn’t handle how much he wanted it to be true.

Day four: ao3 | tumblr

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #brat eddie munson

[sanguineterrain]

Your writing is so damn good, you execute every request perfectly 😭

Could you maybe write something where Dick's insecure partner wants to break up with him because their self-image is getting worse cause they feel they can't catch up to the Golden Boy reputation, superheroes, billionaires and so on?

hi, thanks for the request! I hope I did it justice :) a brief interlude from jaytodd before we return to our regularly scheduled program lol

dick grayson x gn!reader. low self esteem, an almost breakup, reader feeling insecure, threatened, sad. happy ending! 2.1k words

****

You've been tugging at your outfit for ten minutes. At this rate, you'll have to concede that this is as good as it's going to get.

"My love, you almost ready?"

You sigh and watch your reflection fold its arms.

"Yeah," you say softly. "'M ready."

The door opens. Your heart swoops.

Dick is beautiful, as usual. Your boyfriend can do a lot, including fill a suit. Both your and his outfits were tailor-made because that's one of the perks of being the son of a billionaire.

Over and over, you'd insisted you could wear off-the-rack, and over and over, Dick had said that was silly, that Bruce wouldn't mind.

And it's true that what you're wearing flatters you better than anything from Macy's or Marshall's would've. But you know it won't help tonight. Not in a room full of Gotham's elite.

"Just as I suspected," Dick says, immediately draping his arms over your hips. "You're gonna steal the show tonight."

He's lying.

That voice in your head has gotten louder recently, and you don't know how to turn it off.

You kiss him instead of responding. Dick enthusiastically reciprocates, always delighted when you touch him. You used to think it would be enough.

But ever since you found out that not only are you dating a billionaire philanthropist with a face that makes angels weep, but that said guy is also arguably the most beloved hero in Gotham, maybe second only to the Batman (who's his freaking dad?!), you've begun to have doubts.

You pull back. Dick's tie perfectly sets off his eyes. They're bright as they look at you.

"Everything okay?" he asks, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

"Uh-huh," you say, trying to smile. "Just nervous."

“Hey, it's alright. I'll be by your side all night. I'll save you from any and all small talk, promise." He winks. "And we can duck out early, get hot chocolate from that place you like. They won't care."

Dick's always doing that. Always catering to you. You're just some nobody who happened to stumble into the best relationship you’ve ever had with a golden god.

Dick never reminds you of that. That he could do better. He doesn't have to—you know it all on your own.

You swallow. “Okay. If you're sure. I... I would like to leave early, Gray."

“‘Course, baby,” Dick says, attaching his cuff links. "Anything you want."

You turn back to the mirror, wondering if you can reinvent your personality before you go and remind everyone what a mistake Dick Grayson has made in choosing you. 

****

The party is tasteful, though a little stuffy. You're only here because Dick is going to give a speech, and he asked you to come support him. And while you know it's better for him to go without you so you won't dull his shine, it seems Dick hasn't quite figured that out.  

You hold onto Dick’s arm as he makes his usual rounds. Dick doesn't enjoy these events, you know that, but he's fluid in his interactions. There is no doubt he’s Bruce Wayne’s prodigy. With his suit, his hair, his easy posture, Dick is almost unrecognizable from when you woke up with him this morning. 

He's in his element. All you can do is peer in and watch. 

Dick leans in and slips a hand around your waist after the fourth interaction with a donor. A donor who, again, acted like Dick may as well have been dragging around a coat rack with how intently they ignored you. Not that you give a shit about what the one percent have to say about you, except sometimes they say a lot of mean things, things you're pretty sure they don't let Dick overhear, and sometimes you start wondering if Dick is the only person who can't see truth in what they say, and sometimes—

“Hey.” Dick leans in to talk in your ear. He's warm and solid. You wish that was a comfort. “You okay?”

You're exhausted. 

“Uh-hmm.”

He is going to wake up one of these days and realize he can have it so much better. 

Dick moves like he's about to say more, pull your closer and permeate your senses with his gold.

“Dickie!” 

Sweet, tinkling laughter echoes across the room. The crowd parts for this new woman, an obvious socialite, dressed to the nines and gorgeous. 

Her dress matches Dick's tie. You feel sick.

When she reaches you two, she wastes no time grabbing Dick and kissing his cheek. He extricates himself from her, like he's done a million times before with everyone else who thinks they're entitled to a piece of Dick Grayson. He shoots you an apologetic look. You look away.

“My God, it’s been what, ten years?” she says. Then she sees you. “Oh! Where are my manners? I’m Caroline Banesbury, Duchess of Middlesworth. I heard the Dickie Grayson was going to be here, and I had to come.”

“Been a while,” Dick says, smiling blandly. “How are you, Caroline?”

“Spectacular! Father just bought another castle. You should come and see it sometime.” She plucks a flute of champagne off of a passing tray and smiles behind the rim of the glass. 

“Dick and I go way back,” she says, gaze roving over him. “I hear you're transforming Blüdhaven. Taking a page out of Bruce's book, hm? You always had a big heart, Dickie.” 

She grabs his arm and links it with hers. You sigh and take a sip of your own drink. You half-wish Poison Ivy would come in and gas the room or something.

Dick clears his throat and maneuvers out of her grip once more, letting go of her with a light pat. He returns to you, snugly holding your shoulders.

"This is my partner," he says about you.

Caroline hums, looking over you. "I see. Pleasure."

You nod. She turns back to Dick.

“If I can be of any help to your project, you let me know,” she adds, glancing down at where her empty arm now hangs at her side. “Anything.” 

“That's generous of you, Carrie.” 

Dick and I go way back.

Oh. Right. You're stupid. They've dated. 

“We should have dinner,” she continues. “Catch up. I'm dying to know what Gotham's darling has been up to.”

“I feel sick,” you announce. 

Dick and Caroline turn to you. Caroline looks perplexed, like you've just said you like to chew concrete. 

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that,” she says, hardly sparing you a glance. "Perhaps you ought to lie down."

You feel Dick's eyes on you. If you don't leave soon, he'll know you're lying. Possibly the worst part about dating Batman's protégé.

Suddenly, leaving this hall is the most important thing you've ever had to do. You feel like you'll die if you don't.

Your feet start moving.

"Baby—"

Anyway, this is Caroline's chance. She can swoop in with her trust fund and while you think Dick can do way better than her—he can always do better—anyone is better than you. For Dick Grayson, who has been a master acrobat since he was a child, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, indubitably intelligent, capable, beautiful, the best goddamn guy you'll ever know—

You've lost your way. You're out of the gala, away from duchesses and doom. And you meant to get your coat but this hall that Bruce rented is enormous. You've no idea where you are. But you're alone.

Bruce must've known too, how unfit you are for his son. And why wouldn't he tell Dick? Unless Dick ignored him, because Dick, for all his smarts, is stupidly in love with you, thinks you're where he should put his heart, is certain you won't fumble and drop it.

Warm, callused fingers catch your wrist and you remember, suddenly, Dick telling you once, after you'd nearly stumbled into the street, that he'd never let you fall.

You meet his eyes. Why does he look at you like that? Who gave him the right to look at you like-like you—as if you could ever deserve—

"Hey," he says, squeezes your hand. "Hey, hey. What's going on?"

Dick Grayson is not a trusting man but he trusts you and good God, you're about to break him.

"I need to break up with you," you blurt.

"What?" he breathes. "What—why would you say that?"

You wish he'd give you the slip he gave everyone in that room, gently separate your arm from his hand. You never learned how to evade Dick's touch.

"Because it's true. Dick, please understand—"

"No, I'm trying to understand. Because yesterday—no, tonight, you were fine—"

"No, Dick, I wasn't fine! I haven't been fine in months!"

You wrench your arm away. He looks like you slapped him.

"You know anybody I talk to in there means nothing, right? You know that, honey." He's pleading.

You curl your fist into your eye. "It's more than that, Gray."

"Then tell me what the problem is," he says desperately. "Tell me and we'll fix it. I promise we can fix it."

"You can't!" you say, voice cracking. "You can't fix me."

Dick shakes his head. "I don't—"

"Why can't you let me break up with you with a little bit of dignity?" you ask. "Do you have to be better at this too?"

"I don't want to break up," he says, tugging at a handful of his hair. "This doesn't make sense. We're happy. You're happy, aren't you? Don't I make you happy?"

"Of course," you choke out. "Of course you make me happy. But you don't see I'm bad for you. You're wonderful and perfect and golden, Dick. And I'm a stain. I need to be scrubbed away."

"Wh—that's not true!"

"Everywhere we go, people see me with you and are immediately confused. I'm not a superhero, I'm not royalty, I'm not a socialite, and yet somehow I've managed to snag Gotham's darling. This is a mistake. I'm trying to do you a favor and wake you up!"

Dick's face is hard with anger. How could you have thought this would be easy?

"I don't need to be woken up! What is it that makes you think I have no agency over the people I choose to spend time with? Everyone I meet thinks they're entitled to touch me, demand me. Everyone but you. You, the person I chose to love, who I love everyday. Do you think you pulled the wool over my eyes and you're snapping me out of it? Is that what you really think?"

And isn't this the most puzzling thing? That he's not sad or gently accepting; Dick is mad.

"I just—" He runs a hand through his hair. "I don't mean to yell, but really, I can't bear it if you see me as some god on a pedestal, unattainable and inhuman, like everyone else sees me. I love you on purpose."

"You're so accomplished, though," you say weakly. "You're..." You wave your hand over him. "You're fucking Nightwing, D. You were Robin, you have superheroes for friends, Batman for a parent, you're beloved by, like, all of Jersey—"

"My love, you know those are just parts of me. You see all of me. You know me. And that's not a one-way privilege, okay? I'm so damn lucky to know you, to love you, to be with you, to fight with you. To fight for you. Knowing you isn't something I take for granted."

"But I'm boring," you say, tears spilling over. "Jesus Christ, Dick, I'm plain and untalented, barely a dime to my name, so painfully ordinary that—"

"Listen to me," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Flying around or shooting lasers out of your eyes, sure, it's cool, and it's helpful for taking down an alien dictator. But I don't need you to do any of that, honey. I don't need nor want you to be anyone but you. I wasn't tricked or swindled into loving you. We caught each other halfway, just like we were meant to."

You let him pull you into his arms, let him press your tear stains to his silk pocket square, let his hair fall around you.

His embrace is solid, firm, but when he inhales, his shoulders shake.

"Do you—" He swallows, throat against yours. "Do you still want to break up?"

His heart beats against your cheek.

"I'm just afraid you'll get tired of me," you whisper. "Bored. Annoyed."

"I won't," he whispers. "You're the least boring person ever. It's never boring to be loved."

You squeeze your eyes shut. Dick's warmth encloses you.

"No, I don't want to break up. I'm sorry."

He holds you tighter, and you realize you never had to match Dick's tie. Not when you've got his heart.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #richard grayson x reader #Nightwing x reader #Nightwing x you #Nightwing fanfiction #dick Grayson fanfiction #dick Grayson imagine #Nightwing imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

[koolades-world]

got a request via comment for a part two with the undatables for this mangled wings prompt! been working at trying to incorporate raph into my works so this will be my first post with him in it! part one can be found here

if you haven't done lesson 76-19 (yes i did have to look up the exact lesson haha) there are spoilers below for simeon

enjoy!

Mc with mangled wings p.2

Diavolo

he's always been very empathetic, and he immediately tries to help you in any way he can

he offers you all the moral and emotional support he can offer

he also tries to help you work through it and may know the right people to help you restore what you once had

whatever you need, he will help you as best as he can

Barbatos

when he learns, you're not so sure about how he feels since his expression remains exactly the same

but inside, he's filled with a seething rage that he rarely feels and is something only few can recognize

suddenly, all those that hurt you are begging for forgiveness

when you ask him, he says nothing and offers you a tea party with all your favorite things at it

Simeon

he's very open about how

however, something he'll never tell you is how afraid he was of suffering a similar fate

he's grateful he didn't fall like the brothers did, but now he's just floating in a weird in between

it's an odd bonding moment between the two of you, being outcasted, but part of him feels like you could connect more with the brothers than him

Luke

he's so horrified that people that you once trusted could do that to you

he hugged you and almost started crying while apologizing

after he learns what happened to you, you suddenly find a lot more specialty treats left on your bed that are always right up your alley

while he thinks it might bother you to bring it up directly, he's always asking how you are and how you're feeling

Solomon

he's seen a lot during his lifetime, so while this doesn't phase him too much, that doesn't take away how upset it makes him

he hates seeing you in pain, and as a human, he's known a lot of that

even though you're not, he feels as if the two of you can bond over understanding each other when nobody else does

he hasn't suggested it to you yet, but he's been trying to create something that may help you to restore what you once lost...

Mephisto

you've never seen him act more sympathetic

his facade drops and you can see how much he actually cares about you

with his heart on his sleeve, he shares everything

he lets you know you're welcome in his arms anytime if you need anything, and while he won't admit he had the conversation with you, his actions change

Thirteen

at first she's outraged, but eventually calms down once she sees that you're not as upset

don't give her any names or she might accidently knock over their candle while working

when it comes to be their time naturally! she emphasis naturally, you can come help if you want

reaping is something she does respectfully and this is no exception, but she'd do anything for you

Raphael

he's very serious as usual when he offers to hunt down who did that to you

he wants to seek vengeance on your behalf

even if you tell him not to, part of him will always be thinking about doing it anyways and is always listening for details about them

from then on, anything you ask for, he's getting it done 100% if not already

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me mephisto #obey me raphael #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #omswd

[sgiandubh]

OMG! I can practically see her pulling at her pearls in indignation and fury! I wonder how many wet dreams he rejected her to result in this anger 🙃🙄😜 https://www.tumblr.com/maximumwobblerbanditdonut/747779411400671232/public-intoxication-sh-was-invited-to-the-landcon?source=share

Dear Pearl Clutching Anon,

This woman is the worst mythomaniac and the most pathetic know-it-all of the entire fandom. Mark me: probably a sock account of one of the Mordor sopranos, who'd like to play it cool otherwise. She is an impostor, pretending to be a Scot. But her grammar and spelling recurrent mistakes point to anything else but an English native speaker.

Prized and praised as she is by the dim-witted, she is living proof of the fact that you cannot reasonably and endlessly pretend to be an expert in hair implants, cocktails/bartending, audiovisual production, copyright, alcohol sales and pretty much everything in between. To me, she is at her most pathetic when she pretends to analyze the legal intricacies of the French regulations applicable to public alcohol tasting events.

What happened, in fact, at the Landcon 6 whisky tasting?

Ok. So, this was announced by the French organizers on March 5th and presented as a limited audience event, priced at 350 euros.

This idiot's comment is absolutely priceless:

She would be surprised to find out that, unlike the US, there has never been any Prohibition decreed in France (Hell would have frozen). Even more interestingly, the only venues where French law specifically prohibits alcohol tastings and sales are enumerated very clearly in regulations far above her intellectual abilities:

The main idea is that you cannot sell/organize alcohol tastings in public health venues (hospitals, clinics, etc), rehabilitation clinics (d'oh!) - both for alcohol and drug addictions -, schools, youth summer camps, sports arenas, swimming pools or any other public or private sports venues.

(Source: French Public Health Code, https://www.dalloz.fr/documentation/Document?id=CODE_CSPU_ARTI_D3335-1&scrll=CSPU022225&FromId=CODES_SECS_CSPU_TALPHA)

To these limitations, the French national professional organizations add, as best practice, the following: churches, cemeteries, prisons, military barracks, railway/public transport facilities (including depots).

(Source: Vin & Société's Guide juridique de la dégustation/Tasting Legal Guide - https://www.syndicat-cotesdurhone.com/upload/article/file/202103guidejuridiquedeladegustation-60658bb9468b4.pdf)

To my knowledge, Landcon's venue was neither a cemetery, nor a church (the latter could be, however discussed: wee & lame joke, btw). And for that poor woman's information, you would not need an exemption, but a permit, or licence. In current French law, there are four such sale permits, ranked from I (soft drinks, such as Orangina) to IV (all drinks, including spirits). The fabled Licence IV (also the name of a beloved 90s French kitschy music group, LOL) is now impossible to obtain and if you want to have one, you have to buy the venue (cafe, nightclub, bar, bistro, restaurant or buvette) that had it issued first, many moons ago.

That problem solved, we would have to further analyze the type of event hosted by the Landcon. Was it a tasting or a sale, according to French regulations?

If it was a tasting, no licence is needed. If it was a sale, you might need a temporary licence, granted by the Mayor, provided you have notified them at least 3 months before the event. These are also famously hard to get and very sparingly granted, too.

Because tastings are an exception, they are strictly defined by French regulations as 'free alcohol consumption' and their regulations are excruciatingly detailed. Procedures and limitations vary according to the type of event: sports, tourism promotion, markets and fairs, public gatherings or cultural events (which is the one that seemed the closest to our situation). But a cultural event-cum-tasting would have to be completely free of charge (no paying access tickets), in order to be exempt from any legal obligation. This was not the case, as we know there was a rather steep, 350 euros fee, to be able to attend it:

(Source: Vin & Société's Guide juridique de la dégustation/Tasting Legal Guide - https://www.syndicat-cotesdurhone.com/upload/article/file/202103guidejuridiquedeladegustation-60658bb9468b4.pdf)

That new activity was certainly not a tasting, as defined by French law. An amateur could then conclude, that S's event was, in fact, a disguised sale and that he is either a sinister fool or a filthy conman.

The trouble is, French legislation tolerates one single, overruling exception to everything I wrote above: sale by the producer of said alcohol. It is to be found (or rather interpreted - and it has been so by myself AND the French professional organizations), in the Code Général des Impôts/ French Tax Code:

To avoid a tedious legal translation, the idea is that if you do not sell your own produced booze, you are automatically considered as a stockist/trader and as such, subject to alcohol sales' regulations. If the Landcon organizers would have sold/promoted Laphroaig, for example, they would have needed the permit. But hosting a paying tasting event organized by SRH, promoting SRH's whisky and which profits entirely belonged to SRH is a sale by the producer, as defined by French law, not needing a permit:

(Source: Vin & Société's Guide juridique de la vente/Sales Legal Guide - https://fgvb.fr/wp-content/uploads/2021/04/Vin-et-Societe-Guide-juridique-de-la-vente-19042021.pdf)

So: even if the tasting event was, in fact, a sale, French law allows a producer to sell his own alcohol, for promotion purposes as a side event, with no further need to obtain a permit. And this is exactly what their legal team rightfully advised them to do and completely what I would advised them to do, too.

That woman is so often and in so many ways completely wrong, that she is absolutely ridiculous. She (and also her other Big Friend) should perhaps stop pretending to be whatever they are not. Infantilizing, bullying and snarling at people does not help with their credibility.

Such women are genuine Frauds and absolutely despicable. People spend years fucking their eyesight in law school and we do not joke about interpreting and reading legalese. Ever. But to see idiots pretending to know just because they fucking used Google for ten minutes is just infuriating: it took me two hours to find the exception and another two to write this comment.

I hope this long, tedious answer was helpful, Anon.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

[captainremmington-13]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖊𝖓

show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building except for Brio.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, mentions of scars, death, and pain, injury, kissing, overall angst

A/N: fun fact: the beginning part (which is a dream) is based off a dream i had the other day where i was chasing Luke thru the woods lmaooo

“This isn’t fair!” you yelled, your legs screaming in protest as you picked up your pace.

Luke laughed loudly, also increasing his speed. The dirt trail meant that with each step, he kicked up dust, effectively making your eyes water. 

“I thought you said you could catch me, angel,” he called out tauntingly. “What happened to all your confidence?”

“Fuck you!” you said with a fake angry tone. “You’re going too fast, you know you’re better at running than me, can you at least slow down a little?”

This just made Luke laugh harder, and he glanced over his shoulder to give you a grin. 

Gods, he made you feel so many things.

“What, you can’t handle the challenge and need me to make it easier for you so you can win?” he asked teasingly. 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” you huffed, trying to hide the fact that you were completely winded.

“Sure, whatever you say, baby,” Luke said, clearly not convinced. You rolled your eyes at his sarcasm, but couldn’t prevent yourself from smiling. You really did love playfully bantering with him.

Channeling all of your remaining energy, you charged towards your boyfriend. You leapt onto his back, making him yelp in surprise. 

“What in Hades?” he asked, bewildered. You just smiled, resting your chin on his shoulder as he hooked his arms under your thighs. “Has my lovely girlfriend been possessed by a gremlin or something?” 

You gasped dramatically. “How dare you assume such an awful thing, Castellan?” You slung your arms around his neck, enjoying the feeling of your bare skin on his. 

Luke turned his head to peck you on the cheek. “I know, I know, I’m the worst, aren’t I?”

You giggled, holding onto him tighter. “Yeah, you are.”

He set you down gently, and turned to face you. His cheeks were slightly flushed from being relentlessly chased by you through the woods, but other than that, he didn’t seem tired at all. Perks of being the son of the messenger god, apparently.

You sighed, looking up at him adoringly. “This isn’t fair,” you said once again.

Luke’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been running for so long and you still look perfect. In comparison, I probably look about as good as Medusa with a bad case of bead-head.”

Luke scoffed. “That’s so far from true. You look as pretty as ever.”

Before you could protest, he wrapped one of his large hands around the back of your neck gently, connecting his lips with yours. You melted into the kiss, reaching up to grip his strong shoulders. Thankfully, you were deep enough in the woods that it was unlikely that any other campers would see your intimate moment. You never did anything quite this intense while in the presence of others, as you didn’t want to get lectured by Chiron and Mr. D.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the moment. You were completely at peace…

Until Luke let out a blood-curling scream.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him being dragged away by Ladon, the dragon’s claws creating gruesome wounds in his skin. 

“No!” you shrieked, immediately flying after him. But before you could get close enough, one of Ladon’s heads opened its mouth and released a gust of fire, setting your body ablaze. 

You plummeted to the ground, helpless as you watched your boyfriend be ripped to pieces by a monster.

You kept falling for what seemed like an eternity, bracing yourself for the bone-shattering impact that you knew was to come. 

When your body finally hit the ground, everything faded all at once.  

.

.

.

“She’s waking up! Someone get Brio or Will, quickly!”

“Keep your voice down, you’re gonna scare her! You know how dangerous startling her can be!“

“You keep your voice down, you’re the one shouting-“

“Everyone, shut up!”

You groaned quietly, the noises surrounding you immediately giving you a headache. As you slowly regained consciousness, a searing pain bloomed in your abdomen, making you cry out. Your eyes snapped open, and you saw Brio Olarei, a son of Apollo, standing over you with bandages in his hand.

“Hey,” he said softly. “I need to lift up your shirt to re-wrap your stomach. You got a pretty nasty cut, and your ribs were cracked.”

“Great,” you muttered. “What else?”

“Well,” Brio began slowly. “You’ve been out for almost four days.”

You blinked. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“No, I’m not,” Brio said, removing the old bandages from your torso. “Teleporting all the way from the west coast to the east drained you enormously.”

You suddenly felt a wave of nausea overtake you, realizing that your encounter with Ladon and the Hesperides hadn’t been a dream. 

You began to sob, not caring that you were in the presence of the others who worked in the infirmary.

You had failed your mission.

But even worse, you had failed Luke.

Brio did his best to calm you down, but nothing really worked. Tears kept spilling down your cheeks, and you didn’t even try to stop them. He applied a salve to your wounds that helped ease the pain, and re-wrapped them quickly. 

“I’ll do anything I can to help you with your recovery,” the healer said warmly. “You’ll need to stay in the infirmary for another few days to make sure your injuries don’t get worse.”

You avoided his gaze, not caring to respond to his words. Instead, you asked,

“Where’s my boyfriend?” 

Brio swallowed. “He’s fine. He was in rough shape when we found you two at the border, but he made a quicker recovery than expected. He got released from the infirmary last night, but he refused to leave. We had to have him forcibly removed because it’s really busy in here, and even then, he still insisted on waiting outside of the building-“

As if on cue, none other than Luke Castellan burst through the wooden doors of the building. Nobody really tried to stop him as he rushed over to you, kneeling at your beside. His pretty brown eyes swarmed with tears, and you could tell he hadn’t been sleeping at all.

But the most startling thing you observed was the angry red scar on the right side of his face. 

“Oh, Luke…” you whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek. Luke cringed slightly, but allowed you to touch him regardless. 

“I’m fine,” he said quickly. “It’ll heal up. But it won’t ever fully fade.”

“Oh, Luke, I am so sorry-“

“It’s not your fault, angel. What’s important is that we’re both okay.”

You took his hand, rubbing circles on his palm with your thumb. “For a moment, I was worried that you…you were dea-“

“I know,” he cut in. “I was worried sick about you too. Fuck, I even prayed to Apollo, begging him to aid you in your recovery.”

You sighed. You knew that if Luke went as far as praying to the gods, he really was concerned. 

“Brio said that I’ll be fine. I just…need more recovery time than you did. Not only did I sustain injuries from the fight, but the teleportation also did quite a number on my body.“

Luke ran a hand through your hair, caressing the top of your head. “I wish it hadn’t affected you so badly, but I’m eternally grateful that you did what you did. You saved our lives.” He stood up, to lean down and place a kiss on your forehead. “You’re my hero.”

You smiled weakly. “You’re more of a hero than I’ll ever be.” 

“Nonsense,” Luke said, shaking his head. “You were so brave, taking on Ladon like that while you were seriously injured.”

“I wouldn’t call it bravery,” you replied. “I’d call it determination to keep you safe.”

He sighed. “Either way, I’m just so relieved you’re gonna be okay.” He took a deep breath, looking down. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had lost you…”

You reached up to wipe a stray tear that began running down his cheek. “I have no doubt that you would tear the world apart. You probably would’ve marched down to the Underworld and demanded Hades to give me back, just like Orpheus.”

Luke laughed quietly. “I would’ve moved mountains to reunite with you, my angel.”

You hummed appreciatively, closing your eyes once more. You felt drained, despite only having been awake for a handful of minutes. 

Luke called Brio over, who handed you a bottle of water and a small pill. 

“This will help you sleep,” Brio explained, helping you sit up slowly. You whimpered as your ribs screamed in protest at the movement. Luke squeezed your hand reassuringly, promising that the searing pain would subside soon.

You swallowed the pill and took a few sips of water. The son of Apollo turned to look at Luke.

“If you want to stay at her bedside, that’s fine. Just don’t get in the way of any of the healers and-“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Luke said impatiently. “I won’t cause any trouble, I swear.”

A son of Hermes promising he wouldn’t cause trouble would normally raise some red flags, but in a situation as serious as this, he clearly meant what he’d said.

Brio gave you one last look before walking away, and you swore you could see pity in his eyes. You despised pity, it made you feel weak and stupid, which you knew you weren’t. 

Luke pulled up a chair and sat next to your bed. He immediately laced his fingers with yours. “Is there anything I can get you, angel?” 

You thought for a moment. “Yeah. Can you get me my stuffed bat from Cabin 11?”

Luke smiled. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

When he returned a couple minutes later, you were barely awake. The medicine had kicked in, and all you wanted was sleep.

Luke placed the stuffie in your arms, and draped the infirmary bed’s comforter over your body. “I’m not leaving your side until you’re fully healed.”

You frowned. “But you have duties as head counselor.”

“Fuck that,” Luke said dismissively. “You’re more important. Chris can take over for me.” 

You sighed. “Where are you gonna sleep?” 

“Right here.”

“Luke-“

“I’m not leaving,” he said firmly. “After what happened at the Garden, I swore to myself that I’d never let you out of my sight ever again.”

Knowing you couldn’t persuade him to change his mind, you nodded. Clutching your stuffed animal to your chest, you let your eyes fall shut. Luke still had a tight hold on your hand. It seemed like he believed if he let go of you, he’d lose you forever.

With your beloved by your side and the medicine in your bloodstream, you were able to drift off into a peaceful state of rest.

________________________________________________

After three long days, Brio finally deemed you recovered. Well, at least recovered enough to leave the infirmary and start sleeping in Cabin 11 again.

You were instructed to take it extremely easy. No sparring, no archery, nothing that was even remotely physically taxing. You were also told to apply a healing salve nightly on the long cut Ladon had given you. You didn’t even remember getting scratched by him, but you figured it had happened right as you teleported away. 

At least the poison hadn’t spread too far throughout your skin. Otherwise, you probably wouldn’t have survived.

The scar, which was still an angry shade of red, went from your left hip across your torso to the right side of your neck. It was ugly and quite gruesome, and every time you looked in a mirror, you almost burst into tears. 

You felt like you’d taken several steps backwards in your progression as a person. You felt depressed and angry, your hatred for the Olympians growing with every day that passed.  

And being so fragile frustrated you greatly. Not being able to participate in the daily camp activities or practice your fighting put you on edge. The pitiful glances the other campers constantly threw your way made it even worse. It became so hard for you to control your temper that at some point, you stopped leaving Cabin 11 except for meals and to shower. Whenever you were out and about, you had to refrain from snapping at every person who tried to talk to you. Even your closer friends, like Chris and Annabeth, seemed nervous around you, not wanting to get on your nerves.

Luke was the only one you let your guard down with. There were even times where you refused to speak to anyone else but him. 

You suspected that you were trauma-bonded to each other. Every time Luke wasn’t by your side, you felt terrified. You worried that he’d suddenly be ripped away from you, and you’d be powerless to stop it, just like the nightmare you’d had just before waking up in the infirmary.

If you thought Luke was protective of you before, you had no words to describe what he was now. 

At times, he felt like your personal bodyguard. If someone even looked at you funny, he’d place a hand on the hilt of his sword and glare at them until they practically ran away. He almost always had a strong arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders, guiding you to wherever you needed or wanted to go. He doted on you as if you were a princess, opening doors for you and taking over any chores you were assigned. 

“Let me handle it, angel,” he would say, giving you an affectionate pat on the head. 

But even though he was sweet and gentle with you, he became more withdrawn with everyone else. 

You always knew he had some anger issues, but had managed to keep them suppressed most of the time. However, ever since he’d been released from the infirmary, it didn’t seem like he cared about keeping them at bay.

Just like you, he was furious at all of the gods, especially Hermes.

He was still polite, but he had adopted a cold, less-than-friendly demeanor. He followed through with his duties as a camp counselor, but was much less patient with the other demigods. His voice always seemed to have a hint of bitterness in it. The scar that ran down the right side of his handsome face made him even more intimidating.

Sometimes, he seemed like a completely different person.

But with you, he was still Luke. Your Luke.

And you hoped more than anything that he’d stay that way.

taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @have-a-nice-day-k

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments!!!

The next chapter will take place months after the quest occurred…

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #pjo series #rick riordan #thanatos #demigods #angst #riordanverse

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 13

chapter 24:

1. sirius 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 james being codependent af

2. ooo reg you’re so close babes. think about that just a little more. he realizes he cares about how james treats him and feels about him. reg just almost gets it

3. “He thinks the arena makes everyone a bad person while they're here. The only exception to the rule is James. He's the only person who could drag himself through all of this filth and cruelty and still hold onto his shine.”

4. ☺️ this “without hesitation” line is gonna bite us in the ass, isn’t it?

5. they’re talking about what their life without tragedy would have looked like. and damn. i’m not okay. their life would have been so beautiful

6. “"In that life, I do," Regulus whispers. "I let you do whatever you want, and when you want to dance, we dance."”

i’m NASTY sobbing over this line. like, snot coming out of my nose sobbing

7. “Regulus said James was his first love, didn't he? James would give anything to be his last.” 😀😀😀 holy shit that hurts

8. that nightmare was VILE

9. god, reg was practically sobbing to hold james’ hand. why is the world cruel to them??

10. 😐 i am unamused. another fucking spider

11. “"Have a go at me. Don't thank me or anything. It's always you're so stupid, James; it's never you looked so sexy and heroic while saving everyone from the murderous spider, James."” PFFFFFTTTT

12. it hurts to read it, but i also have always known that if reg wasn’t called into the hunger games, james would have died for someone else. like he said, either peter or vanity

13. god, peter’s story line and character fucking hurts. his family was mathias, irene, vanity, james, and even reg. this hurts like hell

14. NOOO PETER!!!!!

15. THEY MADE IT!!! THEY SURVIVED! THE GAMES ARE OVER!! THANK GOD!!

16. 😀😧 the rule change is REVOKED??? IM ABOUT TO LOSE MY FUCKING SHIT!! IF I WAS IN THIS UNIVERSE, ID PERSONALLY BE THROWING HANDS WITH SLUGHORN!! I BET SIRIUS HAS TO BE PHYSICALLY RESTRAINED!!

17. “"You're hesitating, love," James says softly.”

SCREEEEEEEEEEECHH

18. “"Axus got me on their way into the water. At least it was your dagger, I suppose," James says with a weary chuckle, his throat bobbing on a harsh swallow. His mouth quirks up a bit at the corner, gentle and lovely. "Maybe this makes me insane, but if I'm honest, I wish it had been you."”

oh no, make no mistake james. this very much does make you insane

19. and james is compared to the fucking sun going down again. i- i’m not okay

20. i need therapy for my trust issues. i trusted my ex best freind who outed me. i trusted my old roommate who i recently found out had a notes app list of everything she didn’t like about me this year. and most importantly, i trusted zar. i trusted that this fic wouldn’t do this to me.

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #fanfic #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #crimson rivers

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.102 Negotiations

I thought about the whole money tree argument all night, and while I understood Sophia's concerns, it still didn't sit well with me. Dub's words from his note echoed in my head. "Financial freedom to pursue your dreams," he said. I knew she preferred to live a simple life, but didn't she have bigger dreams than just being married to me and raising our children? I heard the TV on, so I got up to address the topic again. My goal wasn't to change her mind—though I hoped she would—but to present my case coherently. I was blinded by the simoleons I didn't even have yet and failed to put a counteroffer on the table. If she could hear my thoughts, maybe she could see it in a different light.

"Good morning," I said.

"Have you ever seen this show? It's so fun!"

"Uhh...no. Can we talk?"

"Of course," she said, turning off the TV. "What's on your mind so early?"

"I want to revisit the money tree situation."

"Okay. Sure."

"You presented your reasons for limiting its use, but I don't think I did a good job explaining why I think we shouldn't, and I'd like you to hear what I think."

"Okay," she said slowly. "So, what's up?"

"You said it would be an insult to return the gift, but I think it would be an insult to ignore Dub's wishes."

Her eyebrow went up a little bit, but she was still tracking with me, so I went on.

"I understand your hesitation, but we don't have to let the money change anything about us. We can be ourselves, but with peace of mind and more opportunities. I think maybe your childhood is influencing how you're seeing this, but so is mine. I'm gonna tell you a different part of my story so you can see where I'm coming from."

"Sure."

"Okay..."

I took a deep breath and hoped my story would work some magic.

"You've been around my parents enough to know my mom is the one with the money."

"Yeah. That's obvious."

"Right. She spoiled us...she still does, heh. But we weren't spoiled brats. We had everything we needed, and a few things we wanted, but we didn't live extravagantly. We went to public school, wore regular clothes, and lived in a middle class neighborhood. For a long time, my mom had an office job. And even now, she still works her candle business. We weren't rich by any means. We were comfortable. I know this because when we went to my dad's house, it was not comfortable. He came home tired every day and didn't have the energy to spend time with us. He never took us anywhere, and there was nothing to do at his house-"

"But that's not what-"

"Wait. Let me finish. I haven't made my point yet."

"Okay. Sorry."

"My grandparents bought my mom a little house and gave her a chunk of money when she moved out so she could have peace of mind and time to explore the world and figure out what she wanted to do without the pressure of bills and working a job she hated."

Sophia nodded and smiled, giving me hope that my story already inspired her to change her mind.

"When we moved out, she did the same thing for us…except for the house, of course. It wasn't a ton of money, but I could have gotten a cheap apartment if I wanted to."

"Or a tiny house," she said, gesturing vaguely.

"Ha! Yeah, I could have afforded this. She's still taking care of us. I keep telling her she doesn't need to keep doing things for us, but all she says is when I have a child, I'll understand."

Sophia nodded.

"Yeah...I remember hearing her say that in Tartosa."

"Yeah... I may not have a child yet, but I do want to give it every opportunity I had and then some. I don't want it to worry and feel how we felt at my dad's house."

"I get that. I don't want that either."

"And what you said about your parents. They were older when they adopted you because it took forever to save the money. If we want to send off our children with a little something, we have to start saving now. We can't wait until a week before they're gone to start harvesting the tree. Maybe we don't take from it every day. Maybe just once or twice a week, or whenever we think about it. But just leaving the tree alone until we need it? That's not gonna give our children the kind of future I want them to have. I want to continue what my grandparents started. I don't think we should waste this opportunity."

She sat there, nodding and staring at me like she didn't realize I was done. But then she turned away, stared at the floor, and sighed.

"Wow... Your family history is filled with so much love and support."

I grabbed her hands, hoping to seal the deal and provide a little comfort.

"Yes. And you're part of that family now. I just want to continue the cycle. That's all. I don't want to start wearing labels and buy a big house in Del Sol. I just want to spend time with my family without consequence."

"I can't argue with that. I'm still not letting you give up on yoga, though."

I laughed. "I didn't expect you would."

"And to be clear," I continued, "I'm not gonna give up. I just don't want to be in a position where I'm still hustling and missing everything going on at home. You'll be here, so I know everything will be fine, but I want to be here too. I want our children to have all the benefits of living in a two-parent house."

"That's beautiful, Luca. I see the whole picture now. I've just decided I'm definitely not to going back to work."

I beamed at her.

"Really?? That's awesome! I love that for you."

"So, what do you think you'll do?"

"I don't know yet. I don't want to give up on teaching just yet, but I'll probably spend more time on SimTube. I have time to figure it out, though. Speaking of the hustle...I gotta go. I love you, Sophia. I love our life, and I can't wait to see how it turns out."

"I love you more!"

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar

[deadbydangit]

Since today is mine.

Celebrating your birthday with them: Trickster, Mastermind, Trapper

Trickster

When it comes to his birthday, it's not just a day.

He celebrates for a full week.

All about him getting everything he wants.

He expects everyone to shower him in gifts and praise.

But you?

He's never celebrated anyone else's birthday before.

"So... It's the same... But opposite?"

Ji-Woon can be a little selfish.

He's never had a reason to celebrate someone else's birthday before.

Well, there was Yun-Jin but...

"Ugh, everything she wanted to do was like, the opposite of what I wanted to do. So I didn't do it."

Again, kind of selfish.

It's going to take some time to wrap around his head that today isn't about him.

So, he'll suck it up and do everything you want to do for a day.

Within reason that is.

If it brings any harm to himself or you, he's out.

No exceptions.

Or anything that could wreck his appearance.

Other than that, he'll make sure you have a great day no matter what.

Your favorite foods?

Done.

A piece of jewelry you've been eyeing?

Yours.

That restaurant you've always wanted to go to?

He doesn't even need reservations.

He's got you covered.

But if you think they're going to sing Happy Birthday to you at the restaurant, you're wrong.

The only one singing is going to be him.

And he won't do it out in public.

This is a special occasion for someone special like you.

So it's only going to be heard by your ears and your ears alone.

Mastermind

Birthdays aren't that big a thing for Wesker.

It isn't that he doesn't care about you or your special day.

It's just something he's not used to.

He never actually celebrated his birthday until he met you.

So forgive him if he's a little clueless or insensitive about the subject.

To him, simply wishing you a happy birthday should suffice.

He was just raised differently.

If it really bothers you, say something. Because he won't figure it out otherwise.

He'll make an effort to make it special for you then.

It still won't be extravagant, but he'll make it nice.

He'll let you sleep in, which is something he'd never let you do otherwise.

He'll even make you breakfast.

When it comes to gifts, he prefers practical things.

Clothing, wallets, things you actually get use out of.

However, if you hint hard enough that you want something, he'll surprise you and get it.

As long as it's not something like a video game that will cause you to be lazy.

He'd prefer to take you somewhere rather than get you something.

He finds experiences are more impactful than material objects.

He won't exactly spoil you, but he will do his very best to make the day enjoyable for you.

He'll try to accommodate himself to doing the things you enjoy.

Even if he finds them trivial or ridiculous.

If it's something that makes you happy, he'll join in for you.

He'll even try and be more positive and less cynical for the day, just for you.

Only for you.

Trapper

Evan grew up in luxury.

However, he never really celebrated his birthday.

If anything, it was a day of sorrow for him.

His mother died while giving birth to him, so he almost feels guilty for being born sometimes.

And his father wasn't one to show affection, let alone celebrate anything Evan did unless it was work related.

So he doesn't necessarily know how to celebrate someone's birthday either.

All the knowledge she has on birthday celebrations is from what he's observed and what he's read about.

However, what he knows about our children's celebrations. Not adults.

So he's still rather lost.

Of course, he'll wish you a happy birthday.

But other than that, he doesn't know what to do.

He's too prideful to ask for help for something like this, so he's going to try and wing it.

And, when that ultimately doesn't work out, he'll ask you.

And he'll ask you awkwardly.

"So... What do you do for your birthday?"

He's trying.

Give him a break.

But really, he wants to make this day special for you.

So you just tell him whatever you want to do.

And he'll do it, no questions asked.

Favorite food?

Done.

Want something? Anything?

It's yours.

Make sure to thank him with extra hugs and kisses.

It makes him feel like he's doing something right for once in his life.

#dbd imagines #dbd ask blog #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd mastermind #dbd trickster #dbd trapper

[theokusgallery]

The problem with my art right now is that 1) the little drawing time I have goes to @daily-basil ; 2) I have phases, and am currently deeply unmotivated ; and 3) when I do draw what this blog is currently about (Arsenic) I draw him in a gay way (because I love him deeply) and not like the unhinged person he actually is. I'm sorry I'm so soft about him right now. Yes I want Sunny and him to tear each other apart but they also need to love each other so so so much first

#siiiiiiigh... #im sorry i need him to hold sunny gently and tells him he loves him and yes he'll say it in horrible unhinged ways BUT #poor man who does not know how to love and does not know he can be loved. he is convinced he needs to manipulate people to make them stay #writing down arsenic lore for tosteur like two days ago made me so emotional about him. shaking and crying #there's not even like An Event it's just that his whole childhood sucks and he's never been accepted by anyone and he's so lonely and #(starts crying) #he does horrible horrible things but all he does to sunny truly comes from love. deeply inhumane and twisted love but love nonetheless #(except when he's being a selfish ass who doesn't have any sort of morals and generally doesn't give a shit about other people. of course) #god he's such a horrible person (/simplification) i love him #he does not care about hurting other people and only cares about his own selfish desires #he thinks he can do anything he wants and if other people get hurt by his actions it's not his problem #don't you DARE touch a single hair on sunny's head. not in a 'i care about my bf' way btw. #but because if sunny gets hurt. he has to deal with that and 1) it's boring unless it brings him something and 2) that's *his* plaything. #even when he does nice things for sunny he doesn't make it just to make sunny happy #he does it so that sunny will associate happiness with him and stay. #that's what he thinks consciously at least. he always had ulterior motives for everything he does #it doesn't really make him calculating because it's automatic at this point. it just makes him deeply selfish #my poor little boy who has never had anyone genuinely care about him before... #which doesn't excuse shit of course but hhhh i love him so much. #(D if you see this. this is about the OC not the guy. of course) #arsenic #rant #sometimes i think about nick like a normal person ('he's so awful and interesting') and sometimes i just slhrflfbfb. (cries)

[malkaviian]

random oc facts, of the "they have problems" flavor

#oc talk #1- luca developed claustrophobia from the time he was locked in the school's bathroom by her bullies #2- chase got his depression from his mom; who also has it; except she goes to therapy and has meds so its now somewhat controlled #he was quite the spoiled kid by both his parents but his mom was the one who would always agree with him and give him everything #even if he was in the wrong and the worst piece of shit he could be. she felt guilty about him getting clinical depression for 'her fault' #so she wanted to 'compensate him' for 'ruining his life'. he was still pretty harsh with both of them so. #one day he told her to kill herself and go to hell over a minor thing; that same night he went to see finnley #so he never knew his mom actually tried to kill herself if thats what he wanted. his dad was kinda bitter for a few days #but eventually forgave him. and as i said none of them told him anything so he never knew. #3- maverick still gets nervous when he sees cops or hears police sirens - hes always on the edge #whether theyre going to actually arrest him some day. he doesnt know if zachary's body was ever found as he avoided tv for that reason #like he hid it in an abandoned house. it was a horrible hiding place but it was the closest he had and he was panicking with a dead body #so its not like he could do the smartest things in that state. also of course he left his dna everywhere- finding him would be really easy #but it never happened since zachary came back before anyone noticed his disappearance. and with a new appearance #its was like the old zachary people knew just stopped existing entirely. you cant do a murder case without a body #so it was just labeled as a sudden disappearance. however mav is paranoid over it when in his non-empty state #and when hes empty hes so focused in finding someone new to obsess over he stops caring- maybe he could even find someone on prison! #4- rafael doesnt talks to his family due to charlotte manipulating him into believing theyre all horrible people who hate her #and in fact they hate her! mostly his sister. they hate what she did to their son/brother but hes so blind and easy to manipulate #they stopped trying to knock some common sense into him. his sister was afraid this would happen eventually bc he was always gullible #SPECIALLY when hes in love. and well guess what happened!! #5- on the topic of charlotte; she has both tried to kill herself AND kill someone. well; her 'suicide attempt' was more likely #wanted to get hospitalized but not *actually* ending her life. in her mind that would make her parents notice how much they hurt her #with their 'favoritism' towards raven. girl they literally never had a favoritism YOU are the one who think so!!! #she never got what she wanted though-- she ended up vomiting the pills and suddenly got too embarrassed to talk about it #and guess who she wanted to kill? exactly; raven! they would sometimes see each other on family reunions and it was weird #she bought anti-freezer and brought it to a reunion-- she has been on a barista course so technically no one would think anything #if she made drinks for everyone. but raven was just so insistent on seeing the process-- due to actual curiosity-- that she couldnt do it #so she came home with an anti-freezer and incredible frustrated lmao. she was 17 though so its not like it was thoroughly planned #but you know. the intention was there.

[calamitydaze]

okay i’m gonna go to sleep cause it’s late iiiiii hope i don’t wake up to nuclear bombs dropped on us

#tag ramble to try and unpack my feelings don’t take this too srs i’m just saying words: #i’m so so incredibly sad and disappointed #i never went into much detail on my feelings on the drama before this but my stance was that from q’s perspective he has a right to #be pissed (at least initially) and i don’t think he Had to say anything supportive of u.smp itself although it would’ve been nice #but once his fanbase started getting out of control (and now knowing to the extent it got) man that’s on you that’s your responsibility #ESPECIALLY if they had just previously been friends behind the scenes and dream was still under the impression that they were #i can’t fathom leaving a friend to the wolves like that #and when dream talked about things like trying desperately to reach out and getting nothing + the confusion of being friends one day and #ignored the next #and when he did things like alternating between cracking jokes about the ‘feud’ and being kinda shady— that all hit home for me personally #and if being in a similar situation hurt Me i can’t even imagine what he was feeling with his and his family’s safety in danger #and through it all he’s still being more gracious than i think i could be. i’m so so sad for him he’s always treated with such vitriol #and people don’t even think about it because it’s okay because it’s dream #and more than anything i guess i’m thinking about how it didn’t have to be this way #from dream’s perspective at least it seems like he was doing everything in his power to smooth it over and help both of them #(and he still is by changing his concept. which he shouldn’t have to do) #and one party wasn’t willing to cooperate. and i can’t wrap my head around that #if it was just dream not getting a response i could say Oh well maybe it was just a mistake maybe another horrible coincidence #but if what he says is true nobody was getting any feedback except to say they couldn’t be on both servers #and like i said i always want to hear both sides and i really hope q is willing to give his (to dream personally if nothing else) #but as someone who cares a lot for both of them and thinks they’re both great creators it just breaks my heart a bit #i’m trying to avoid being negative from the jump but i can’t pretend i haven’t lost respect for q over this #anyway. christ i wrote war and peace over here goodnignt i hope it all looks better in the morning #much love to you all #bella talks

[rainswings]

Favorite type of science?

I'm so sorry I'm allergic to smart things and don't really enjoy science generally. Um, maybe zoology? I think animals are cool :)

#i love you so much anon thanks for asking!! #i hope you have a lovely day :) #answered #asks #rains talks #about me #look away science enjoyers its time for a dumb bitch to rant in the tags #but like. i just never felt anything for science classes except frustration and disinterest #its up there with history in least favorite subject mode at least i understood math most od the time #but chemistry is boring as shit all just adding but its electrons n shit #same with physics and like. everything else. theyre all so unbearably boring #theyre all too smart for me. my brain could never figure out the sciences #stem has never been a dream of mine and im glad bevause im the worst at it #yknow what okay maybe astrophysics is cool i did enjoy that class and did kinda enjoy learnign about stars #it kicked off my nrw worldbuildong quirk of gotta makke the solar system first #tho i dotn remember anything from class and just have to watch through artifexian vids instead #but yeah. sciencd sucks for me #i suck at science and i hate it because i never felt like i had a chance because my brain just isnt wired for it #and it makes things so gross and uncomfortable !!! i never want to know about the little bugs all over everything #i hate knowing what a parasite is. i dont care that rainbows are light refraction shut up im here just for colors #i dont care about that shit i dont want to hear it i just want to taste yummy things and leave a pretty corpse one day #and istg if you come in my inbox about 'food is science too' im blocking you

[ozzgin]

Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.

-Doll

This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)

Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader

As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)

[Part 2]

You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.

A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.

Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.

This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.

You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.

"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.

He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.

Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.

The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.

You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.

His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."

Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.

What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #yandere demon king #yandere male x reader #gender neutral reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere oc