#bc they knew people really cared about that dog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr is available in 18 languages.

#bc they knew people really cared about that dog

ink-the-artist · 9 months

Text

Love the contrast between the Americans’ “Apollo” and the Soviets’ “Sputnik.” You got the Americans naming their rocket after a Greek god trying to communicate the grandness and importance of this rocket. And you got the Soviets naming their rocket “fellow traveler.” Like a friend you go on an adventure with together. This rocket is our little friend lol

#i think its cute #they took the mars rover approach #humanizing the space craft making it cute making us (me) project emotions onto it #the soviets also used imagery of laika in propaganda a lot #which is pretty fucked up imo #but if i grew up in the soviet union that shit wouldve definetly worked on me lmao #the narrative of a heroic little dog going to space and being honored by the whole country #as cruely wrong as it is its very appealing #the soviets knew what they were doing man they didnt reveal how laika really died until like. the 2000s #bc they knew people really cared about that dog #they liked the narrative around her

78K notes · View notes

nyx-is-missing · 4 months

Note

Could u write one for clarisse where she's impressed with femR bc of how good she is at fighting and all and clarisse finds her incredibly attractive bc no one has challenged her the way R does?

And like a bit of pining until the two confess

Thank you!!

Breathtaking or taken

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

Summary: when Clarisse finds a opponent worth of her, she is breathtaken.

Warnings: none really, just fluff, not a descriptive fight scene on sight cause mama dont know how to write that, so just fluff fluff, and mutual pining fluff

(Do i need to say its not proofread? No? Thank you)

Here is one of the main benefits of being a daughter of Athena, you'll know.

DIfferent from other gods, Athena will let your parent know it is her who they are talking to.

And if letting them know beforehand isnt enough, she will let them know when the baby is brought to them, and if your parent is smart enough to live up to her choice, you'll have time to learn a thing or two before being thrown into this world.

If your parent cares enough about you, you'll have time.

And sure as hell my mom cared.

Always the intelectual woman, historian, researcher, writter, my mom knew many things about ancient greece, she knew all the stories by heart, and she, of all people, knew what she needed to do, to preserve her only daughter, her sacred gift.

She teached me all i needed to learn without compromising myself, stories, languages, art...and fight.

Little girls my age were doing dance classes, were trying to be good enough for drama club, were playing tea party with their dolls or making a mess with their mom's make up.

Well...i.. i was doing martial arts, i was fencing, i had my face in a book every free time i got.

I always asked her about it, why was she so strict about never missing a fight leasson, her answer always made sense, there and now.

"The world is cruel, especially for little girls, someday i might not be all the time with you, someday, you'll fight your own battles, you need to be ready"

Every word, every single word is true.

And that is how i ended up here, in a arena of camp half blood, sparring with Clarisse, and winnig, by two points, yes, but winning.

It is clear nobody expected that from me, neither did she actually, i can see in her eyes.

Understandable, they expect Athena kids to be calm, find a solution, not fight her way out.

Honestly their looks dont bother me, i dont even think much of it, but Clarisse's looks, they got something more to them, like a kid who finally got the dog she really wanted.

"Aaand break time Clarrise, we'll continue this tomorrow, id like to enjoy the rest of my afternoon thank you"

I dropped the sword down and started to undo my armor while walking close to the exit.

"Wait wait wait, now? Already? C'mon i didnt even had time to figure out how do you do that... all of that"

She stood next to me, still holding her sword and honestly.. she was beautiful, yes she was sweaty now and yes she was mean to everyone but.. now...right now, she was beautiful, shining, in her element really, flushed cheeks and a smile she only had when with a sword in hand.

"I practice, ever since i was a kid, everyday, well expect in weekends but yeah, almost everyday... how do you do all that? You are good...-want some water?"

I offered her my bottle also motioning for her to walk with me, both wich she gladly accepted.

"I practice too...and i never said this to anyone but, you are good, great even, and look breathtaking"

We stop walking, we stop all actually.

"I look what, Clarisse?"

"Breathtaken- you look out of breath, do you want the water back?"

Ah.

Weeks later i found myself in the same scenario, sparring with Clarisse again, actually that is all i do when it comes to training, be with Clarisse

"C'mon curls, thats the best you've got? No need to go easy on me"

"Im not going easy, i already told you, you caught me distracted thats all- GIRL WIll YOU SUSH?"

She tried to block you with her sword, thankfully for her, a succeded attempt.

"How could i? You're so fun to mess with, gets all red n all"

"Oh you want to talk about getting red?"

In a moment i was on the floor, Clarisse on top of me, and i couldnt speak, all i could do was stare into her big brown eyes, who looked right into my soul.

"Cant speak anymore huh? Oh if you could see the red im seeing-"

Now this my ladies and gentlemen, this is what i call a shot of faith.

I raised my head a little and just..i kissed her, it was quick but I did it, and her face went blank.

"Now you are breathtaken Curls, how about that?"

"And you are still breathtaking"

Still?

Oh.

"You...like me Clarisse?"

"You didnt knew?"

Oh.

"....no..?"

"Would you walk away if i kissed you this time?"

"....no."

#fanfic #lesbian #clarisse pjo #pjo tv show #pjo series #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue

395 notes · View notes

fadeintoyou1993 · 2 years

Photo

sometimes all i can think about is how max went looking for nancy after she looked for lucas and how nancy is literally like max's emergency contact bc i KNOW max holds nancy at a high regard because nancy is so fucking cool and how the hell is she related to mike because when they needed help in s3 nancy was already looking into it all and nobody wanted to believe her. bc people are always thinking that nancy is just obsessive and paranoid at first when she's literally FUCKING RIGHT all the time. and how in st4 when max thought that it might all be happening again her first thought after finding lucas - her on and off boyfriend - was to find nancy bc she knew that nancy would believe her and nancy would help bc nancy always knows what to do and if she doesn't she'll figure it out. like nancy wheeler really is max's role model i'm sorry she just IS like. the way max looks at her when nancy is sawing off that gun she really is like god nancy wheeler is so fucking cool i dont know how she's related to mike. bc u know that max always thinks like what would nancy do in this situation and she holds nancy's opinions to high regards - like her asking nancy to settle her argument with mike over el in s3 and nancy immediately siding with max. and it's not one sided bc nancy does care about max and she knows about the grief max is going through bc she has lived it and keeps living it and they're both so haunted by people who were close to them - even though the relationships nancy had with barb and fred were different from the one max had with billy - and so they just. get each other. and all nancy wants to do is protect max because she knows what grief can do to someone and she doesn't want that to happen to max. and i think that is just so neat.... and also they both pet stray dogs and bully mike and talk about their cute autistic lesbian gfs together bc i said so:) and mike is so annoyed bc he's like u piss me off with ur lil obsession w my sister and robin is like shut up michael u don't get it. el is like yeah mike. and max is like u will never break apart nancy wheeler stannies club founded by max mayfield sorry mike xoxo

3K notes · View notes

despairots · 10 months

Text

━━━━━━━━ the ballerina dancing in the rain.

pairings ━━━━━━━━ scaramouche x gender neutral! ballerina! reader. reader is a puppet and apart of the fatui, working underneath scara. takes place where scara is apart of the fatui. for story purposes, reader has short hair sorry long hair royalties :( reader has an anemo vision and uses a sword. reader has protective issues over scaramouche and hates dottore

content warning ━━━━━━━━ has some suggestive things at the end (only bc km on my period and hormones have been acting up), most likely angst at some point, murder, mentions of abuse, mentions of being totured and being tested on, may be ooc.

do you walk in the shadows of men who sold their lives for a dream? most people thought you were weird due to being restrained from emotions and body stitches, they didn’t know what was the reason.

and working under scaramouche, the balladeer, you were bound to be scolded and yelled at him but you were prepared, already experiencing this type of behaviour before in your past.

he thought you were weird, doing everything you were ordered too and did everything perfectly right, and no matter how many times you were scolded, yelled at, slapped, you didn’t react, almost have done this before.

it intrigued him also due to the fact you popped into the files in thin air, no records of your past nor origins.

but no matter how many times he said he didn’t care for you at all, he still followed you around when dottore called for you as you trailed behind him like a stray dog.

he didn’t know what brought himself to do that, he said he didn’t care… does he care? he couldn’t possibly. you were just a mere fatui agent that some what was important to the harbingers.

“seems like your joints have been fainting.” scaramouche watched dottore glide his finger’s against your nude arms, tilting your fingers to his liking to examine you whilst you sat there, staring down and sitting still.

scaramouche listened, like he usually does to ensure your safety— safety? since when does he care about your safety? a mere human that worked under him?

he heard dottore sigh and drop your arms to your side, “you’re lucky you’re important to the tsaritsa or else i would’ve experimented on you like the harbinger you work under.” he commented which was a bad move on his part.

scaramouche gritted his teeth and frowned, knowing that comment was directed to him, “what’d you say?” you sneered with venom, glaring up at him due to the comment he made.

dottore laughed at you, knowing your undying loyalty and protectiveness towards the balladeer. “gets angered at the mention towards the harbinger their working under!” even if scaramouche couldn’t see it, he knew you were fuming.

his laughter quieted down, watching you pull your coat over your body to hide his gaze even though his seen your body a million times because of searching for your disappearing joints and being experimented on.

“are you done? or are you gonna continue your experiments?” experiments? scaramouche peeked through his hiding spot, surprised by your amount of chatter and the sudden mention of experiments.

“oh, right! but it seems like we have a guest.” the two of you looked over at scaramouche who interrupted with a frown, “sir?” your body tensed at the sight of him before looking down in shame.

his gaze flickered to your figure before dottore, “what are you doing to them?” he walked up to you two, glaring up at him, “you’ll see.” he paused and looked down at you, taking notice of you putting your boots back on.

“[name], wanna tell him what you really are and what your purpose is?”

“i’d rather not.” you quickly replied to get out of the position you are, ignoring the fact that you were just saved from being tortured, “oh? why not? wouldn’t your dear harbinger like to know?”

you looked at scaramouche and looked back down, hands clutched onto your coat before dottore grabbed your wrist and pulled you over to his desk of files, mostly filled with you.

he gave the files to scaramouche who quickly opened it after dodging your attempts on taking them away from him, “wait!— sir, please don’t read them!” your pleads fell upon deaf ears, dottore holding you in place.

[name] ━━━━━━━━ the ballerina dancing in the rain.

his eyes scanned through your files, eyes slightly widening every time he read what dottore had written down. he closed it and handed towards dottore and glared at you, who wanted to shiver up and die.

“[name]’s a puppet, specifically a puppet for the hydro archon. they’re exactly like you.” dottore stated, grinning evilly down at you who frowned.

that was when scaramouche realized, you were exactly like him, but instead of being discarded, you were kept but ran away due to outliving your loved ones and being abused over and over again.

that was why he felt a weird feeling towards you, a feeling of similarity. you felt that same feeling towards him, that’s why you decided you to perfect everything just the way he wanted.

you were important because you were just a replacement for scaramouche, a new test subject.

“let go of them, dottore.” dottore quickly let go with a smirk as you rushed to scaramouche’s side, who took your wrist and left the place to his office.

it was quiet, enough to your liking but scared of what scaramouche wanted from you due to the fact that he just rushed you both away from the doctor.

“sir?” he pushed open his office door and shoved your shoulders against it, head against your collarbone, flustering you as you stood still, waiting for his sudden outburst he’ll have if you moved.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“hm?” he lifted his head up, hands now on your neck with care that he didn’t hurt you, “that you were a puppet.” you looked down, “i didn’t think it was important.” shrugging, you felt his grip tightened.

“why?” “what am i supposed to say? oh, i’m a puppet for the hydro archon but i ran away due to restatement towards her. was i supposed to say that?” you scoffed with an eye roll, probably a bad idea but who knows.

“you can’t blame me for not wanting to tell you.”

“you brat.” he dragged you into a rough kiss, stopping you from ranting on and on, suddenly feeling comfortable to show your real personality towards him.

you jumped, hands reacting fast, reaching to his wrist but not pulling away. it was like your body resisted, like your body enjoyed having his lips on yours.

he shoved you back harshly on the door again to which you didn’t mind when you relaxed and wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning slightly into his mouth.

all what was heard last night was the slight sound of moaning and grunting to which you woke up to the marks on your neck and the balladeers body pressing against yours.

#kaz. ��#genshin impact smut #scaramouche #the balladeer #kunikuzushi #kabukimono #wanderer #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #dottore #fatui harbingers #harbingers x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #smut

461 notes · View notes

vall-the-pen · 7 days

Text

We Become We

Synopsis: you’re arranged to marry the one and only yashiro commissioner, Kamisato Ayato

Content: Ayato x fem!reader, arranged marriage, one-sided love (Ayato) not proofread

Note: titled and inspired by the song ‘We Become We’ from Journey to Bethlehem (this is a little bit messy bc i tried making it shorter than my usual stuff😭)

—

“Do you like dogs?” Ayato guided you away from a puddle of rain. He has been asking you questions since you began your walk in the garden.

Still down in the dumps, you asnwered dryly, uninterested. “I’m fond of them.”

Your father had arranged a wedding for you and Lord Kamisato sooner than you had thought. You weren’t able to let everything sink in when he announced the date, there was still a little bit of aftershock left until now.

Lord Kamisato was ever such a gentleman—as he should. Flattery and friendly statements have accompanied you since he arrived at your clan’s estate. Nonetheless, you felt nothing for him. His chivalry was all for show. You knew this was just an arrangement, a sacrifice to make for your clan—for your father.

You were sure he felt the same, and that you would live in your separate houses as you tended to your duties, unbothered and concentrated. But the way he spoke to you made you think otherwise.

“Is that so? Then maybe I could show you my friend’s dog? His name is Taroumaru—the dog, not my friend.” Normally, Ayato wouldn’t speak so freely and childish around a person, but he felt safe enough in your presence to loosen his tongue. You nodded dryly, again.

He began to tire of your meekly responses. He sighed, “I’m sorry. You’re clearly upset about this whole… situation.”

After what felt like an eternity of silence, you looked at him for the very first time. Now he could properly see your monotonous eyes. “What gave it away?” You finally spoke in a more sincere tone.

“Well,” Ayato hesitated. “I won’t go into detail, but I’m no novice at taking hints.” You shyly laugh at this—a step in the right direction, he thought.

“I suppose I have to be careful next time.” Your gaze glued to the ground once more. “I wouldn’t want to offend you, Commissioner.”

“You don’t have to hide a thing, Y/N.” He leaned down slightly for you to see him. “It’s gonna take more than a secret to offend me. Oh, and you can call me Ayato; we are getting married, after all.”

You looked at him strangely, “I don’t understand how you’re so calm right now. Aren’t you disappointed that you’ve got your freedom taken away now that you’re engaged?”

“I’ll be honest here, I haven’t had that much freedom even before getting engaged!” He laughs, “If anything, choosing you as my wife is the only freedom I’ll ever have.”

“Only freedom?”

“When you become a leader, especially at a young age, you make it a habit to decide for the development of your clan. Your duties, fortunes, you should always think if it would benefit your people. There’s hardly any time to think for yourself.”

All of the sudden you felt pity for the man, with empathy lingering over. “Then you became the commissioner,” you draw out, to which he sighed. It seems like he’s unbothered by it now, like he’s gotten used to this overwhelming lifestyle. “Do you ever wonder about retirement?”

“As long as there’s no heir, I believe retirement isn’t an option for me.”

Ah, another reason for your engagement—producing an heir. Archons, you pray your children will have a much better life than you and your groom-to-be. “What about Miss Ayaka?”

You see a small grin on Ayato’s lips. “She’ll want to explore the world, meet new friends and what not. Best not to trouble her.” You both sit on a small bench with an overlooking view of the sunset, purple and red-colored leaves matching the tall sky.

“You really care for her, don’t you?”

“Of course, she is my sister, after all.” Ayato found you leering your head near his shoulder. A warm feeling buzzes in his chest as he nudged closer to you. Oh, he’s been talking all this time! You haven’t said a word about yourself since you met him, he realizes. To correct his mistake, he asks, “What about you? How are you feeling?”

“Well,” you uttered, unsure where to start. You lean against him. “I find it charming that you care for your sister so much.”

“I meant with the marriage.” His voice wasn’t judgmental, but more like a friend lending comfort and safety. It lures you to open up to him.

“This was all just an arrangement,” you confess. Ayato couldn’t help but feel disappointed, yet he doesn’t speak a word of it. Maybe there will be a small rainbow after a drizzle of rain. “That was how I felt at first. But now I’m slowly growing more fond of you, my lord.

If you think of me as easily-caught, then I claim to be fond of you as a friend. At least, for now.”

“For now,” he repeats. “I’ll take that as a good sign. In truth, I fear I’m falling for you sooner than I thought.”

His confession makes you rise from your comfortable place, shock and sudden nervousness pulsing through your veins. “Pardon?”

Ever such a lady, he thought, even when shocked you still hold face. When he looked at you, he saw how you got antsy. Fearing for your comfort, he said, “I’m only joking, miss Y/N! I feel the same as you; a friend.”

You let out a breath, slightly relieved. You were flattered, but love at first sight just felt ridiculous to you—that was just physical attraction. True love takes time and understanding. With Ayato saying he was falling for you, you feared it was only for your looks and not for your soul. Though, you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea of loving him.

“I do admire your elegance, though,” he added.

“Thank you.”

Ayato couldn’t be happier that he was about to be your husband and you, his wife.

It was the way his name seemed to echo in songs from the loveliness that is your voice. It was the way you nodded when people passed by despite not knowing them. It was this sense of perfection he saw in you, and it only took him a smile to tell.

But the question in his head paralyzed him, anxious and, he wouldn’t lie, a little embarrassed. His feelings would be null and void if you didn’t—or wouldn’t—feel the same. “Will this always be just an arrangement to you?”

The stars peeked through the violet sky like fireflies by the time you walked back. The smell of the nearby sea and the woodlands blew with the air. You looked straight, watching your step in case you trip, while Ayato had looked at you like you were… everything. “I don’t really know you that well, Ayato. It can be difficult to tell.”

“But do you think, with time, this blossom of ours will grow into a beautiful flower?”

You appreciate his metaphor. “Maybe, someday.”

Someday.

—the end.—

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #kamisato ayato #genshin ayato #ayato x reader #arranged marriage #fem!reader #ayato x fem!reader #one sided love

96 notes · View notes

bhaalsdeepbat · 3 months

Text

Little Wyll/Karlach/Astarion things

Astarion introducing people all, "This is my girlfriend, Karlach. This is her boyfriend, Wyll." gives him a little narrow eyed look, but Wyll is just like...buddy, my star, you were literally sleeping on my chest last night wtf are you on today.

UGH AND THEN the sun, moon, and stars embroidery. IMAGINE OK. Imagine that being for these three. Karlach and Wyll are the light of his day, and he is their light in the darkness of night. He makes a matching one for Wyll while the three are in Avernus together, but time feels less pressing as it did before. It feels like they suddenly have ALL the time in the world, despite Wyll and Karlach still being mortals. The end to their finite time is just not suddenly there on the horizon, waiting to cruelly separate them when they've had so little time together.

Karlach giving Ulder a piece of her mind and having Astarion drag her off bc he can tell Wyll does NOT want this confrontation happening. She's overheated, he can't even touch her bare skin without getting singed, and Wyll just is like. so struck by the fact that she cares so much about him that she refuses to let Ulder act like he didn't abandon his son. It wouldn't be anything bad, but it would be scathing, and end with how happy she is that Ulder and Wyll have been reunited bc Wyll's a REALLY great guy and if you abandon him like that again you'll be talking to me (and she pauses when she feels Astarion poke her to give her a look, and she can just read it) AND fangs

Astarion just crosses his arms and tries to look menacing...which, to his credit, the red eyes and teeth are creepy af, but mostly he just looks bitchy and like he might eat Ulder.

wyll practicing his dancing and inviting them both one night to dance around the campfire. Astarion sits off to the side, content to watch them. Karlach likes to dance, but not in the way Wyll does, so it's awkward at first, then after a few times where her big feet stomp on his toes, he decides to follow her lead instead. He's never danced like that before, but enjoyed every second of it. Before the evening ends, Astarion allows him one single dance just so he can show Karlach what he had been practicing. None of them talk about Astarion dancing with Wyll again. It's a treasured memory, but the two know that's a barred teasing topic (they bust his balls a lot and he just. begrudgingly accepts it, but some topics they KNOW to avoid)

wyll feeling suffocated by mizora one night and just. he's calm as hell, but Astarion notices him sulking first (I hc our resident vamp as the most perceptive at the camp bc of all i think he was doing for Caz). He tries to talk to wyll, but astarion isn't good at not bristling and it's one of those times where wyll just. he's being scathing. he's meeting astarion at astarion's petty level, and astarion is downright impressed.

he's like ????? like he's not even mad. he's just all "who knew the famed blade of frontiers had this nasty side" and he's smirking and it isn't a sexual comment at all but it accidentally does. and him being impressed rather than bristling is what leads to Astarion being the one to be like "ok now that we've had our dick measuring contest, just tell me wtf is going on"

Every time Mizora shows up, Astarion starts running his mouth like an attack chihuahua. Insults, barks, bared teeth, he does NOT like her. Karlach joins him, they play off each other a lot, actually. Like Karlach IS the attack dog, which makes Astarion feel a little more ballsy when he's mouthing off bc he knows any fight he cause WILL be ended with his beautiful gf knocking their ass out.

Wyll spends that night just. completely distraught. he can't even be with karlach and astarion, he asks for time alone to deal with his thoughts, and they respect it. Astarion keeps an eye from a distance, but he and Karlach allow him the space until he's ready for them, then they both move in to comfort him.

Karlach is great at hugs. She holds him and it's so comforting that Wyll finds himself believing it when Astarion is PROMISING that they'll figure it out. Astarion isn't soft in this moment, he certainly isn't kind while comforting Wyll, but he's genuine. Wyll knows Astarion means it when he promises that him and Karlach will be at Wyll's side to help him fight his battles, because like it or not, his battles are theirs to fight as well.

They'd go after Cazador first after Astarion is nearly (or successfully is) kidnapped. Karlach is PISSED, she's raging, ready to burn down the entire palace just to smoke Caz out. Wyll, equally angry, but actually comes up with a really, really good idea. Like he sits everyone down, goes through the battle plan, and Astarion is just so silent the entire time bc he cannot believe these two would rally so hard around him.

This is the point where every time someone is the least bit mean to Wyll, it is ON SIGHT for Astarion. Before, he'd butt in if someone crossed a line he felt shouldn't be crossed, or if it was Ulder or Mizora, but now it's ANYONE. Only he gets to insult his beloved Wyllyam.

Karlach on the docks, saying her goodbyes, holding her heart, her eyes welling with tears as she sees Wyll and Astarion look at her with just. the amount of grief in their eyes. She can't take it. it's the first chip in her resolve that allows them to swoop in and convince her to keep going.

Wyll moves first. Tells her she doesn't have to be alone, she'll have him AND astarion to watch her back. this isn't a convo any of them have had. astarion and wyll both know she'd rather die than go to avernus, but wyll KNOWS Astarion would go there in a heartbeat, and vise versa. they just know each other very very well at this point

So, Wyll is talking to her, Astarion is hiding under his cloak AND Wyll's bc the sun is threatening to burn him alive, but he can't leave Karlach alone. His own skin is cracking with the threat of turning to ash. Wyll holds onto Karlachs' hands, stares into her scared eyes, and she can SEE that he means the promise he makes to her. He will NOT let her be alone in Avernus, if she chooses to return.

Astarion, despite trying to hide from his own imminent death, gives his points. they're quick, not as nicely said as when he has a one on one with her bc he's also trying not to die, but he's more worried about her than he is himself.

Karlach, assured that the two men who vowed to love her to her dying breath, agrees to go to Avernus with them. They have one hell of a bloody time together. It's one of the best chapters in their life stories, after they get Karlach's heart fixed and they're all able to leave Avernus.

All three of them finally free of the bonds of servitude, they're able to explore the world. They're free to go where they wish, free to love who they wish, and free to finally choose their own paths and futures, though their choices will always involve being together.

#bat writes #fic idea #astarion #karlach #wyll #bg3 #wyllach #wyllachstarion #wyllstarion #bloodpact #hellspawn #this is actually what the whole doublet thing was tied into when i initially was thinking abt it #bc i'm fascinated by the idea of a dynamic between these three

126 notes · View notes

d0g0r0t · 6 months

Note

Bc Toby is literally my bbg you should totally write him with an s/o who takes care of him and is just super nice to him and, it can be sfw or nsfw I don't really mind either

(I'll give you a cookie pls I'm not normal abt him༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ)

Toby x caring reader

TW: NSFW

He wasn't really sure how to process your kindness at first. He couldn't tell if you were faking it or not

But over time when he realized you were true his heart melt

He would be supper shy and awkward around you cause you were so sweet and kind

You would do the littlest things for him and he would look at you like an angle while your doing it

Asking you for things was so easy yet so hard. He knew he could ask you for anything but he was so nervous around you.

You were just so... nice..

He didn't deserve you.. all the things he's done and he gets you? You were to good for him

He's never experienced someone like you. You reminded him of his sister and your kind nature. It made him dizzy with emotions

Even your name sounded so sweet

He would try his best to keep his tics under control PRAYING he doesn't hurt you and bruise your beautiful skin

Sometimes when you two are alone he gets really sappy. Leaning into you, digging his face in your chest, wrapping himself completely around you as your fingers run threw his thick curls

He feels bad when you do simple things for him that any human should do. Brush his hair, help him remember to take a shower or brush his teeth, cook for him

He feels like he's almost using you and he just sinks into himself but after you told him you want to he felt a little better

The moment he sees anyone get even a little rude with you he's on them like a dog, screaming and barking at them. Stepping in between you guys and growling like a protective hound.

The moment their delt with he's getting on your level and using the softest tone asking if your ok and if you need anything

He pushes his emotions back alot until he blows up. But he never snaps at you, he just can't. He'll get really needy if he does show you a bit of aggression. He's at your knees and whimpering how sorry he is for just feeling the wrong thing even tho you have no idea what he's on about

He gets really jealous when he sees you being nice to other people but doesn't step in knowing your nature and your need to care for others

___________________________________________

NSFW

The first time you two got intimate he was literally TREMBLING.

He was scared he might get to rough and accidentally go to far

When you guys were in bed he just stared at you for a few moments trying to process a girl like you under him like this

When he started up he was already whining and whimpering. He was shaking trying not to grip at you to harshly

But over time he has himself wrapped around you moaning in your ear as he pounds himself into you

He's fucks you at a steady pace not going to fast or to slow unless you tell him to

His hips would buck every now and again as he feels your heat squeeze his member letting out desperate whimpers

He rips the sheets from how hard his gripping them as he watches you ride him because he would rather tare the sheets then your skin

Watching you do such acts on him makes him completely red in the face and his body flush and heat up like crazy.

After he finishes he let's out a little gasped and apologizes for cumming so soon and not letting you finish

He will DESTROY his body until you cum to

He's not letting you go unsatisfied after what you've done for him

___________________________________________

IM SORRY IM GETTING THESE OUT SO SLOW ONFG!(#;@[*$[!%

#creepypasta #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #slenderman #toby rogers #x reader #crp

175 notes · View notes

x-liv25-jamieswife · 6 days

Note

For the release of ttpd, can a girl get some sad Grayson hcs 😔✊ <3

sad grayson head canons

of course<3. i eat up sad tig hcs so i might make some for the rest of the brothers and avery (probably will). hope you like them! this one is going to be kinda dark (i like making my favorite tig characters suffer) so trigger warning for self-harm and suicidal thoughts/attempts. take care of yourselves, and try to talk to someone if you can. as someone who's been through a lot of shit last year, i can promise you things, at some point, start looking up (this might be corny, but i felt the need to say it) (i may be projecting in some of these cause i love making myself see myself in my fav characters if that makes sense).

grayson used to go out (like to the park or smth) and watch all of the kids playing with each other wishing he could be like them.

sometimes he gets so self-destructive he doesn't eat or drink water. he just lies in bed wishing he could magically die.

grayson heard the prochecy, the black dog, loml, and down bad from ttpd for the first time and started sobbing uncontrollably (so many other songs but yk, im not gonna write all of them down)

when he gets in those self destructive moods, he tends to piss people off/make people sad on purpose so that they'll get made and leave him (he secretly wishes that someone can see through all of his pain and be there for him)

very dark so trigger warning (even though i gave one at the beginning. you can never be too sure), grayson used to have scars on his ribs bc he would hurt himself. he never cut deep enough for it to actually scar permanently bc he 'has an image to uphold' according to tobias.

although swimming is a coping mechanism, it's also a form of self-harm for him sometimes. he swims until he can't feel his legs anymore, and sticks his head underwater for extended periods of time until he feels like he's about to drown.

i actually saw this in a conan gray interview, but he used to cross the street without looking left and right hoping a car would hit him.

he hears emily's voice in his head more often than he lets on. whenever he hears her voice, he'll press his nails so hard into his palms, they start to bleed.

he somehow managed to get his hands on some anti-depressant behind tobias' back and started taking them, but, sometimes, when he was especially suicidal, he would try to overdose on the pills. it never worked.

he's convinced himself that he deserves the pain he causes himself/the people cause him.

tobias knew about his unhealthy coping mechanisms but didn't do shit to help him bc didn't want him to 'soften up' making grayson think his grandfather thought he deserved the pain.

grayson will purposely make himself stay awake for days on end bc he doesn't think he deserves to get sleep sometimes (he needs to work. in his head, everything will go to shit if he doesn't)

sometimes he'll go swing on this swing they have in blackwood forest to feel like a kid again (it sometimes works)

he has this stuffed teddy bear nash gave him when he was a baby that he sometimes sleeps with when he feels alone (even though he'd grown now).

this one is extremely dark, probably the darkest one yet so tw for suicide attempt(ish its not really one).......... at the age of fifteen, he actually bought pills to overdose on and set a date (the 14th of may (really random)). he was going to off himself that day but didn't end up doing it bc his brothers dragged him out to play chess (idk, anything works). he said he'd do it some other day but never go to it. every year, on that day, he celebrates not offing himself bc he wouldn't have met the people he met and wouldn't have gotten to feel the happiness he now feels if he had.

he's convinced himself he isn't worthy of love (this one also applies to jamie, a lot of these actually do in my opinion, they're quite similar when you think about it. probably will make a post about this)

when he was a baby, he'd imagine his stuffed teddy was actually his mom when he felt the need to be held by a parental figure. it almost never worked, but he would always try again hoping it would magically start working.

he has panic attacks on a regular basis. ones where he starts pulling at his hair and stuff. he thinks he's going crazy after these, but avery reassures him he isn't (or nash, but i like the idea of avery being there for him as a friend/sister figure)

when he was younger, he used to ask people if they wanted to come to his house and play with him. they said yes but only bc he was rich. the second they'd step foot into his house, they'd leave him and start exploring.

this sort of goes with the hc i made that he denies himself food and stuff, but, when he gets cold at night and wants to lower the temperature, he'll force himself to stay in bed and take the blankets off to let himself suffer.

he secretly wishes people weren't so scared of him bc then he might have friends.

sometimes, he starts feeling so numb with everything he goes back to the cliff where emily died just to feel smth.

he's such a perfectionist he would cry whenever he got lower than a 90% at school.

it might not look like it, but he really cares about people's opinions of him and will do everything in his power to 'fix' what these people think is wrong with him.

whenever he gets mad at the world or at himself, he'll go to one of those places where you smash and break everything. when he's done, he makes himself sit in the mess and look at all of the destruction he caused (he sees this as him destroying everything in his life (like his relationships, etc))

to end on a brighter note, here's a happy grayson hc :)

when he was younger and wanted smth, he would jump with his hands clasped together begging for it with the cutest puppy eyes ever (i find this one really adorable and can literally picture it in my head).

not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, there are resources you can use if you ever need help. if you can, try to get a therapist, and, if you can't, talk to a friend/family member or call a helpline. things can get better. sending everyone lots of love.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne

61 notes · View notes

00-hawkboi-00 · 7 months

Text

Make a Mercy Out of Me

Part Three

Pairing; König x m!reader

Word Count; ~7.66k

Warnings; kinda sorta graphic depiction of stitching up wounds near the end. So if you don't like needles.. be careful.

A/n; König is a sergeant bc I said so and it fits my narrative. There's also plans in work for why he's a part of 141 & background knowledge on him. Lore. Eventually.

(we need more clips of this man istg-)

You were a frustrating man to work with. You had hardly said much of anything during that sad excuse of an interrogation, at least nothing of much use. All they knew now was that there was someone out there who held your leash. Or, well, used to. You were a wildcard now, without someone to keep you on lock and key, and there was no way in the deepest pits of hell they could set you loose on the world with what they knew–which wasn't much. Not unless you were hanging off their every word or buried six feet under an unmarked grave.

--- "babysitting duty" ---

"You talk about him like he's some sort of lab experiment."

"Mm." Well… "maybe he is. Who knows."

"He isn't some feral dog, König."

He didn't like it. As much as your words had ignited a–often ignored–spark in him, there was something itching at the back of his mind telling him you weren't trustworthy. That you'd stab him and the rest of the task force in the back the moment you were left to your own devices.

"We should keep him."

"He's a person."

"Not a good one."

"Neither are we."

They had to keep you, if at least for society's sake, on that straining lead. As any slack would surely be the catalyst of his very own demise.

I could make the world bleed.

The words were stuck on replay in König's mind, as well as the man who had spoken them. It was a horrible thought to have–but he couldn't help but find it.. intriguing. The idea made his heart skip a beat and the corner of his scarred mouth curl.

"He said he'd make the world bleed, König. That's fuckin' creepy as shite!" Ghost spat, arms crossed over his chest, as the two made the journey back to the rest of the team.

"You have said much stranger things, Ghost."

"You can't really be considerin' this." A few beats of silence from the larger man was all the confirmation Ghost needed. "Price would never agree to it."

"He said he could help."

"Help." Ghost huffed. "Right. Help with what exactly? He has no idea what we've been working on."

"Ja, he doesn't know. But what about that bomber? Could it be relevant?" Besides Mouse, the team had been tracking a much more persistent threat. Something that left behind more than just breadcrumbs in the form of mutilated bodies.

"...are you sayin' he could be involved in this?"

"He has been showing up right after every hit."

"Right." Ghost pauses in his tracks, turning his head slightly to look up at the other man. "So you think he's with them? Or.. maybe one of their targets?"

König comes to a stop too and takes a moment to mull it over. Could you have been a part of the group they'd been hunting these past few months? It was a little.. suspicious that you'd show up and take out another high-profile figure right after every strike made. Were you cleaning up their mess? Or your own?

"That's all the more reason to keep him, no? To find out? We know he has someone he reports to." There was also the fact that the explosion had gone off practically right under your own two feet. That had to mean something.

Just following orders?

"It's a little concerning when I of all people have to remind you that he is a very real, living, breathing, capable-of complex-thought person." König brushes off Ghost's concerns with a noncommittal shrug.

If they took the route of you having been just another victim of the explosion, that left many unexplained variables. Such as why you were a target–wouldn't one terrorist organization blend well with another? Why would they be at odds? It also leaves the question that, if you had really been abandoned by your crew, why had "she"–the woman who you'd mentioned–left you for dead? Was it legitimate? Or a ploy of some kind?

Then there was the more believable scenario that would tell it as; you hadn't really been betrayed by your group, or whoever held your metaphorical leash. And the explosion was some kind of distraction, a way to get their attention. Maybe–if one applies the theory that you were in cahoots with the people they'd been hunting–you had wanted to get caught. Or, maybe not you specifically, but whoever "she" was. Maybe you were sent as bait and they'd fallen right into that mouse trap–heh.

Maybe you didn't even know this was all a farce. That would make it all the more believable, no?

Either way, they need you here. For information. And if they played their cards right, if they burrowed their way under your skin and into your heart–like a damn parasite–you would give them exactly what they wanted. Lead them right to both the core of your organization and the group behind the bombing. And if the people or persons behind the bombing were by some miracle connected to who they had been tracking…

"He can help." His words help a certain air of finality to them, a small grin making an appearance under his hood.

Another sigh, but not a no.

Price wasn't as thrilled by König's proposal as Ghost begrudgingly was.

"You want to what." König wasn't a fearful man–unless he was ordering from a drive-thru, that shit was terrifying–but when the Captain looked at him like that. Let's just say he was forever grateful for the cloth that obscured almost the entirety of his face.

"Keep him." And if his voice comes out a little smaller than normal… no one mentions it.

To his right, König hears Ghost let out another heavy sigh. For a man who used to take a blowtorch to a hostage's skin and quite literally wears a skull stitched onto his face every day- if you'd asked König, he'd tell you the Lieutenant had grown soft. Or, well, soft-ish. He would still slit a man's throat without question.

"Why'd you wanna do that?" Gaz pipes up, giving König a blank, indecipherable expression. Coupled with his tone, König couldn't tell which side of the fence he was leaning towards. He knew Gaz, out of all of them, was the one with a more strict moral compass–something König both admired and thought of as foolish–but he also already didn't like their current hostage. So, discerning whether the other man would be for or against his proposition was a complex feat. König would have to walk that fine line, choose his words carefully, to sway Gaz's opinion in his favor.

"We could use his help." Is what König finally lands on. Not leaning too far into what Ghost had described as treating you like a tool, but not dipping into friendly territory either. An even middle ground.

"From what Ghost and I managed to gather," well, König had gathered. Ghost more or less just stood in the background as a silent spectator. "He claims he's been abandoned by someone he'd only refer to as "she". That this woman brought him here from wherever he came from to follow some lead- but that lead seems to have been a dead end."

"A dead end?" If Gaz's thing was compassion and strict morals, Soap's was intrigue. Puzzles and demolitions, that's all it took to draw in their resident impulse-driven pyromaniac.

"A dead end," König repeats, now switching his attention to the Scotsman. "Turns out there was no target, not really. Or, at least, that is what it appears like at first glance."

Soap's eyes light up when König moves to reach into his pocket, fishing for the blank note. Bingo.

"At first, when we pulled this off him, we had assumed it to be blank," he unfolds the crinkled-up paper, mud, water stains and all. König reaches his hand out to pass the note to Price, keeping the others on the edge of their seats. "But if you take another look.."

Price inspects it with a deep frown, then passes it to Gaz, who looks at it with a skeptical raise of his brow, next is Soap then Ghost, and finally back around to König. Upon closer inspection, past all the grime and stains, there was a faint red scribble.

"It is like there was something here," he mutters, smoothing a gloved thumb over the worn parchment as if that will somehow make the faded words clearer.

"But someone must've purposefully scrubbed it away." Ghost adds, seeming much more interested than he had earlier.

Any other person would probably have brushed the now-pinkish, washed-out markings as blood. And König almost had; after all, you were practically swimming in your own blood right now. Clothes stained with it far past recognition.

Even so, he knew that wasn't it.

The paper had a slew of things it was coated in–some recognizable, some not–, but blood was, surprisingly, not one of them.

"Dae ya think 'e knows?" Two.

"Maybe he was the one who erased it?" Three.

"We won't know unless we ask him. But,"

They all look over to Price, waiting for the man's next words with bated breaths.

"We can't jus' do it outright." Price's steely gaze lands on König and he subconsciously stands a little taller.

"König's got the right idea. We can't jus' kill 'im. Not yet." Four. "Not until we know everything he does."

"Aye, Captain." Soap grins, pushing up from where he'd been resting against a wall. He tilts his head in the direction Ghost and König had come from. "Let's go wear 'im down then, yeah?"

"Preferably before he bleeds out." Ghost reluctantly grumbles. "Bastard already looks to be halfway through death's door."

Price looks to König, cocking his head slightly to the right.

"You said he believes he was abandoned, right?"

"That is correct, sir." The corner of Price's mouth ticks up.

"So no one's coming for 'im then?"

A sick twist of anticipation began to swell in König's chest, and suddenly he was a lot more confident than he was a few seconds ago.

"Precisely."

The last thing you were expecting after those two giants left was for them to return with the whole damn crew. You'd be lying if you said the leader didn't make every inch of your being tense up. There was just something in his eyes; that cool blue, warmer than König's but still so cold, gave off a deceiving "I'm not a threat" while simultaneously saying "flinch and I'll kill you".

The dark-skinned man and the baby-faced one stood a little ways behind you, and closer to the door. The leader took a seat in the chair König had been sitting in–assuming the same position the Austrian had. Skull-face stood in the same place and König took his place on your right-hand side. Standing just far enough behind you to barely graze your peripheral but close enough where you could feel his presence looming near you. Invading your personal little space bubble with his, so close if he leaned any closer he'd be brushing up right against you.

The leader tried his hand at interrogating you again. It went a little something like this;

"Do you know why she left you?'

"Probably had something to do with my bad attitude."

He gives you an unimpressed look. You simply raise your eyebrows in question. You had broken your vow of silence, but that didn't mean you were going to make it easy on them.

"König said you could help us. Mind tellin' me what exactly you could do to help?"

"I have connections. People who owe me a favor or two." Or five. Hey, in your defense, you had been in the game for a while.

"Are these connections… legal?"

"I highly doubt you care about legalities if you are conversing with me still," Then, just to be a little shit, you add a snide, "sir."

You swear you hear a small huff behind you and you brush it off as a figment of your imagination. After all, you had lost a ton of blood.. It was a miracle you hadn't passed out again from blood loss. At this rate, you should probably be dead. Or, at the very least, comatose or something. Not back-talking the man who was very literally your golden ticket to freedom.

You blamed it on the blood loss. Made you say stupid shit.

"What else can you offer us?" In other words; why should we keep you?

"One less Brit in your ranks?"

"..what?"

"You all could really use some diversity."

There's a pregnant pause before,

"Is making jokes all you're good for?" Skull-face speaks up from behind the leader.

"What can I say? It is part of my charm."

The bearded man in front of you lets out a heavy sigh. Something about that sigh told you this type of thing wasn't new to him. A small part of you perked up with curiosity. You then proceed to beat that part of you back down into a bloody pulp.

"Are you goin' to take this seriously or not, Mouse?" The leader captures your attention again and you shrug. You really should take this more seriously… but the lack of vital, life-supporting fluid in your system was making you loopy.

And stupid.

"König?"

Very stupid.

A small grunt from behind you.

"Hast du darüber nachgedacht, was ich gesagt habe?" (Have you thought about what I said?)

The man in front of you frowns, looking from you to König, to you again. But he doesn't stop you. Someone probably should.

There's a terse silence before König replies.

"Deshalb sind sie hier." (That's why they're here.)

Despite your slightly dazed state, you smile a little to yourself.

"Did you tell him?" Now the leader looks even more confused, if not a little more frustrated. Good.

"Tell me what?" His glare is now trained on König, and you know you've gotten the giant into deep shit now. Even better.

"Nein."

And just like that you, very foolishly, let out a small puff of what was obviously an attempt at laughter. Though a poor one.

At this is rate, you'd sooner get yourself killed than cut loose, but your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. It also seemed to be keen on digging you into deeper shit.

"It is a good deal.." you trail off, narrowing your eyes a little at the leader. It would be great if you knew their names. But no one seemed interested in filling you in on that, so you continue, "you all could really use the help. After all, the only reason you lot even caught me was 'cause I was having a bit of a bad day."

"A bit of a bad day?" Leader asks.

"Aye," you drawl. Your heart thudded a few times in your chest, slowed, then picked back up again. Really, you should be dead, slumped over in your chair, by now. "Got blown up. Stabbed a few times.. broke a few bones.."

You give a sloppy grin beneath your mask. Yeah, definitely shouldn't be awake right now. "Bit of a bad day."

"He's useless like this, Cap'." One of the men from somewhere by the roll-up door pipes up.

"Agreed." Skull-face huffs. "Poor guy's all hopped up on adrenaline. He's not much use to us now."

The leader–Captain?–scrutinizes you for a few more moments before exhaling heavily.

"Alright." He grumbles, standing up from the chair.

"König," the Brit calls on the man beside you but keeps his stare trained on you, as if daring you to utter another smart-assed quip. "You were so damn adamant about keeping 'im, yeah?"

It's obviously a rhetorical question and the atmosphere shifts, the tension in the air palpable.

The leader, or, you guess, Captain–these men and their pretentious titles..–adjusts the beige-colored, boonie hat on top of his head and signals something to the two men by the door. You hear the telltale clanking of the metal being rolled up.

"You're on babysitting duty, Sergeant," he says in that displeased rumble–one you had become very familiar with during the first attempt at interrogation–as he makes his way for the door. "So get his arse back in the van, we're moving to someplace more permanent."

The other three men proceed to file out after their Captain, leaving you alone with the, now fuming, Austrian.

Annnnnnd…

"Maus." He grits out from behind you. You proceed to, very smartly, not respond.

Shit.

Instead, you stay stock still even as König leans over you and unsheathes a knife from someplace on his person. One heavy hand gripping your, thankfully, non-injured shoulder and the other reaching around to rest the blade beneath your chin. He urges your head up with the tip of it until your eyes–oh, yeah, he was definitely pissed–lock with his. In the short time you'd known him you had almost forgotten how downright intimidating only being able to see those pale, glowing blues staring through your very soul was.

"Sie werden es bereuen." (literal; you will regret it. Contextual; you're going to regret this.)

He, while maintaining eye contact, removes the knife and brings it down to hover just above your waist. Your own gaze can't help but flick between his and his weapon-welding hand. Self-preservation, you call it. König, after all, has that sharp metal alarmingly close to your dick.

You choose to ignore the thrill that causes your breath to hitch, an unfamiliar feeling stirring somewhere in the deepest pits of your hindbrain.

You watch as he–in a strange show of caution–places the gloved hand that had been on your shoulder beneath the coarse rope, thumb and fourth finger keeping the binding in place, and swiftly slices through the thickly twined fibers. He then makes quick work of doing the same to the rope wrapped around your thighs and ankles. The barest hints of warmth emitting from him easily seep through the thin, ruined cloth of your pants. But before you can think too much about how long it's been since you last felt the touch of another not-currently-dying human being, König pulls back.

When you look back up to search out his gaze you find he is no longer staring you down, his own focus entirely on freeing you from the bindings. The lack of pressure on your worn body is a relief and the next breath that leaves you is shakier than the last–you choose to believe it's just your body coming down from its adrenaline high.

The last of the rope that had been keeping your lower half bound to the chair falls away to the floor with a soft thump and König retreats completely to move onto your hands. Thank fuck for your own fabric-clad hands, you aren't sure how much more of this non-threatening touch you could take before you fucking imploded or something. All you can feel is the slight graze of his deft fingers against your concealed wrists, and even that is muted. Courtesy of the current lack of decent blood circulation to your bound extremities.

After that final piece of rope is removed, you're being yanked to your feet. Off-balanced and stumbling as blood rushes back to every limb, you nearly come crashing straight back down. König's firm hold on your forearm is the only thing that keeps you from taking an embarrassing nosedive into hard concrete.

Panting heavily behind the fabric of your mask, you groan as the world swims around you. König only spares you a few seconds to steady yourself and then he's making a sudden appearance in front of you and trading out his grip on your forearm to engulf your wrist–and subsequently almost your entire hand–in one large hand. He wastes no time in tugging you forward to follow in his footsteps.

You realize quickly that the time between the rest of the group leaving and König's undoing of your bindings hadn't really been more than a few moments–half a minute at most–, as the other members of König's team were just now turning a corner and leaving your field of vision.

How embarrassing, you think, it felt like a fucking eternity.

König easily uses his tight grasp on your wrist to lift you up just enough so you don't have to make the small hop off of the elevated ledge and out of the storage unit–thank fuck it wasn't your injured arm. You aren't sure whether to be annoyed at his blatant show of strength–seriously, the movement seemed entirely effortless on his part–or grateful you didn't have to make the jump. Your depth perception wasn't exactly the best right now and you probably would've just fallen right over. You doubted you would have even had the energy to catch yourself.

The walk out of this seemingly abandoned facility and back out into the scalding heat–huh, they must not have taken you very far–was surprisingly quick. Your barely lucid brain blocked out the majority of the dizzying twists and turns it took to find the exit. And soon enough you find yourself back in the loading space of that damn van.

This time you are mostly conscious, so you're granted the wonderful opportunity of bearing witness to the burning glares of the three other men seated on the opposite bench. König takes his place beside you and actively decides to not even glance in your direction. Instead silently communicates something to the other passive-aggressive passengers. Well, skull-face was definitely more on the aggressive side of the spectrum, but you were mostly certain he couldn't do anything. Or so you hoped.

The baby-faced one was looking at you with more curiosity than anything, a minor hint of defense hidden somewhere in those–why the hell does everyone here have the same eyes??–vivid blues. That barely concealed interest was more terrifying than skull-face's obvious death stare.

The Captain turned his attention to the Austrian beside you, nonverbally communicating his displeasure with a hard glare and deep frown. Ah, the dark-skinned man must've been the one driving the damn thing.

After a few more painstaking minutes of having a half-assed staring contest with the two men across from you, you give up and let your eyelids fall half-shut. Still nauseous with blood loss and possible infection, you pant lightly within the confines of your mask. Heat continues to build in the suffocating cloth and you let out another soft groan, unable to help yourself when you slump backward against the metal wall of the vehicle.

The ground moving beneath you does nothing to aid your current lightheadedness and you find yourself focusing most of your limited attention span on not vomiting in your mask. That would be a hellscape on its own to clean, and the humiliation would probably kill you off before the budding infection had the chance.

It doesn't take much time before you can no longer fight off the exhaustion weighing down the big ball of throbbing pain that is your entire body and your eyelids finally slip shut. Before you have the chance to force your eyes open again–this is definitely not an ideal place to fall asleep–a sudden heavy thwack against your mutilated shoulder does the job for you.

Your eyes snap back open, fully alert as you search out the culprit. You find König giving you a blank, deadpan stare and the venomous words sprouting on the tip of your tongue quickly fizzle out when you notice the van has stopped moving. In fact, you two are the only ones remaining inside. The other four are piling up just out of earshot, the backdoors wide open and showing off- well, nothing. It's dark and all you can make out are vague shapes in the background.

You huff and go to stand but König beats you to it. Still holding onto your wrist, he gives a sharp tug and you stagger out of your seat. You send him a seething glare but find that his attention is no longer on you.

König pulls you out the same way he had the storage unit; efficiently lifting you by your arm and out of the vehicle. You barely manage to keep your balance when your boots touch solid ground again and just that little bit of exertion has you sucking in ragged gulps of air.

When the Captain glances over to you two, König makes a show of lifting your arm into the air as if to say got it and the Captain gives a small nod in acknowledgment. You don't have the wherewithal to give a shit about being treated more like an object than a person, brushing it off and trading it out to take in your surroundings instead. Besides, it wasn't something you were exactly.. unfamiliar with.

Surrounding you is another compound. More well-kept than the storage facility you had previously been in, but still obviously worn. The stark white walls were practically glowing in contrast to the pitch-black, starless night sky. Besides some crumbling and scuff marks here and there–most likely from environmental weathering over time–the cinder block walls were almost pristine.

Your fuzzy, mush of a brain briefly considers asking König where the hell they had brought you, but your tongue is like lead in your mouth. Not that it really mattered, you highly doubt he would've told you anyway. You were a prisoner, after all. A prisoner who they were only keeping alive on the off-chance you could help.

Help with what exactly? You had not a clue. Hopefully, they'd soon get their shit together and tell you sooner rather than later. Then again.. what would they do with you once your use to them came to an end? Would they just end up killing you anyway?

Floodlights abruptly make an unwelcome appearance, bathing the courtyard in a blindingly white light and knocking that train of thought right out of your head. You cringe away from the sudden brightness, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily before blinking a few times in rapid succession to adjust.

You only have the time to register the sheer size of the compound before you are being tugged forward again and into the said building. As usual, you silently curse König's unfairly long legs and subsequent far longer strides as you try your damnedest to keep up. The nausea, burning full body ache, and pounding against your skull have yet to lessen. If anything it's become more of an issue now that you're not running on pure adrenaline.

You find yourself fumbling over your own miscalculated steps more often than you make a successful one, König having to more or less drag the majority of your dead weight along with him. The behemoth of a man doesn't even have the decency to make it look like doing so is any struggle. Bastard.

The interior lighting of the compound is somehow far much worse than the blaring exterior. You squint against the harsh brightness and it takes a few seconds for your pulpy mess of a brain to make out the shapes and colors in front of you. Or, well, the astonishing lack of colors. Dull shades of grey coupled with a blinding light. Perfect.

Someone's talking. Multiple someone's, really. But your ears are too stuffed full of cotton to make any sense of what's being said. The most you can do is try to read their lips–which proves to be futile–and try to gauge the emotional state of the men in the room.

The plainly, uniform-dressed men standing guard seem to not at all have a problem with the crew that had brought you in. Though obviously holding a subordinate position in comparison to the team, they shared easy smiles and small laughs with the group. The Captain appears to be keeping up a polite kind of façade–was this not his base?–as he converses with the two newbies. Skull-face, mohawk guy, and the Captain's obvious favorite all stand behind the Captain in an organized order. With skull-face standing the closest–was he some kind of right-hand man?–babyface and the third man stood at a respectful distance. Not too close, but just near enough to assist if needed.

König kept you a little more ways away from the others, a firmer grip on your wrist than before. It would probably hurt if the remainder of your body wasn't currently one giant sore spot. You realize why when one of the guards spares a glance at you and, spotting your eyes on him, immediately shrinks back and averts his gaze.

Ah, this definitely wasn't their base. Made sense. They all were clearly European and unfamiliar with the normalities of wherever the fuck you all were right now. Faintly, you remember the dark-skinned man complaining about how weird it was driving on the right-hand side of the road.

You're snapped out of your own musings by a harsh pull on your arm. A small noise of surprise escapes you and, before you know it, the guards are moving out of the way and you are being escorted further into the building.

Going off the darkness you had awakened to, it is obviously late at night, maybe even well into the morning by now, and the only people you all pass are all exhausted-looking security personnel.

König follows behind the other four down corridor after corridor, dragging you along behind him. Eventually, you all make it out into what appears like a sort of gathering place or common room. For a split second you think they're going to stop there, but, no, they keep going. Down more confusing hallways and through nonsense doors.

Then finally, finally, it all comes to a stop at an unremarkable metal door. Nothing on it, not even a little window, with the exception of the room number plastered next to it.

You squint at the numbers, trying to make sense of the blurry shapes. There's a small tugging in the back of your mind and, if you were any more aware, you'd almost say it was familiar. Huh.

The Captain unlocks and pushes open the door, then, before you even have the opportunity to protest, König yanks you close and shoves you forward. You stumble–again, seriously, did they think you were made of fucking steel??–through the doorway and only barely manage to break your fall on the closet wall. You stand there for a moment, panting and bracing against hard concrete, while the others file in.

If it wasn't for the unnecessarily heavy thunk you probably wouldn't have realized that the door had been shut. Your vision blurs then blacks out for a split second while you catch your breath, and the only thing on your mind is; how the hell am I not dead yet?

You're only given a few more moments of rest then you're being pulled by the wrist again. Unable to even really feel your legs anymore, the sudden brushing of something solid against the backs of your knees is all you have to tell you you've even moved. You don't have to be told twice to sit, hell, you probably wouldn't have been able to hear them if they had given the order.

You drop your weight instantly, unable to hold yourself up any longer. You can't feel much through the fabric separating your fingertips from what's below, but from the slight give when you press down, if you had to guess, you'd say you were seated on a cot of some kind. It's not the most comfortable, but it's the best thing you've had in a long, long while.

Lifting your gaze at the sound of someone's voice, you blink rapidly in a vain attempt at refocusing your vision.

"Hm?"

All four men standing in the room give you vaguely concerned grimaces. Well, you assume König and skull-face do, judging by the crinkling of their limited expression.

"I said-" the Captain begins. Not that you hear any of what comes after that. Head full of cotton and feeling simultaneously like you're both floating and being weighed down by a ship's anchor, you're left futilely trying to read his lips. But that only makes the pounding in your head worsen and you screw your eyes shut again.

Cradling your head in your hands you lean down, elbows propped up on your knees. You suck in shallow, shaky breaths, fruitlessly trying to get the proper amount of oxygen to the lump of mass that is your brain.

When your eyes flutter open again the lights have been dimmed just enough to take the edge off, reducing the strain on your eyes, and you immediately slump in relief. You think you mutter your gratitude under your breath, but, really, you're far too out of it to be certain.

A few more muffled words and the soft thumping of footsteps later and the door opens then shuts one last time. You look up expecting to see nothing but an empty room, a little caught off guard when that behemoth of a man is still looming near the door.

"We should really get you checked out," König says, giving a brief once-over at your disheveled appearance. Giving a noncommittal hum, you take a look down at yourself.

You had not bothered to take full stock of your person since the initial confrontation–and even that was a laughable inspection at best.

Every inch of your exposed skin–which, truthfully, wasn't much–was coated in a layer of mud and your own blood. Your thin civilian outfit was in a similar state of disrepair; caked in blood, more mud, and bits of stuck-on foliage as well. Accompanied with the occasional tear and hole here and there, of course.

"I'll get a medi-" Before he even gets the word out you're launching yourself up and off the bed. Charging at him despite how unsafe that currently is and reaching up to slam your grimy, gloved hand over where you assume his mouth is.

König quickly and easily peels your hand away by the wrist, staring down at you with less anger and more of a really, what are you doing? kind of look.

"Nie." (No.) You breathe as your only explanation. You had had enough of fucking medical staff in your time before your years-long solo operation began. Unknown injections, emotionless stares, and needles. Needles, needles, needles. So many fucking needles. You didn't visit those sterile, frigid laboratories often these days–though you were still required to come in every now and again for a routine 'checkup'.

"No?" König finally breaks through your suddenly hazy headspace–this time said fuzziness wasn't the result of excessive blood loss. You'd rather it were.

"Nie." You repeat again, and there must be something in your voice–something unlike yourself, something a bit too human–because König relents without further question and drops your arm.

"I can't really let you die on us, Maus." He points out with a deadpan stare. Then, probably realizing that phrasing sounded a bit too worried, he adds, "What use would you be to us then?"

"Let me do it."

"You can barely stand up straight and you expect me to hand you a needle?"

"I would rather me than you or some pea-brained white-coat." You huff, narrowing your still very unfocused gaze up at him. You hope it lands, you can't really see clearly right now.

König holds your stare for a few seconds longer before letting out a resigned sigh and looking away. "Fine."

He gives your uninjured shoulder a nudge with a gloved finger and rumbles a low, "Sit down."

You're about to bite back with some witty retort but the words get stuck in your throat when you realize just how close you two are. In your rush to cut off the words spewing from his mouth, you had somehow ended up crowding into his space in a very.. unprofessional way. Chest puffed up in a show of defiance and, subsequently, pressed right up against the other man.

That same, unfamiliar twinge in the furthest recesses of your mind from back in that god-awful storage unit begins to stir and you jolt away sharply. Jumping back and scurrying over to the cot at a faster rate than really necessary, as if that simple touch had burnt you. And, to be frank, it had. Indirectly.

König cocks his head, analyzing you for a brief moment, then shakes it off. Thank fuck. Having quickly averted your gaze, all you hear is some faint rustling and then his legs appear in your line of sight. A small first-aid box materializes from his hand and you lift your own trembling one to take it.

"Thanks." You mumble. You were a monster, not impolite.

König makes a light huff and retreats. Grateful for the, mostly likely unintended, room to breathe, you fumble with the kit before finally managing to wrench the damn thing open. Placing the box beside you on the bed you ungracefully free your first victim from its confines; your thigh.

Stab wound number one, thankfully, has stopped bleeding. On the other, far less favorable, hand, the injury is already a burning, angry red. A light poke at the inflamed skin with your finger has you hissing against the sharp sting.

Deciding keeping up appearances was much less important than your health, you make efficient work of removing both gloves. Also soaked with mud and blood, they would do no more than worsen what was already the beginnings of a very, very serious infection.

There's a bottle of saline solution in the kit and you uncap that first. Folding the bled-through, makeshift bandage in half, you use it to catch the liquid rather than letting the filthy solution drip onto the floor. After flushing out the wound as much as you can–without running the bottle dry, you've still got another to clean–the next step is the worst of them all. Stitches.

If you had it your way, you wouldn't use them at all. You had a tendency to forgo using a needle and thread whenever you could–only stooping to that level when it was absolutely vital. Like right now.

Even then, you only knew one form of sewing; intermittent sutures.

Tearing open a sterile needle packet you, surprisingly enough, make easy work of threading the surgical cotton through the eye of it. Pinching the slice shut with your non-dominant hand, you position the end of the curved metal about a centimeter from where the damn thing starts.

The first pierce of the needle into your tender flesh forces a strained whine from your throat, eyes beginning to water. You blink away the budding tears, exhale a shaky breath, and tie the thread off.

One suture down, an ungodly amount remaining.

Your hand only gets more unsteady as time goes on. Making each stitch more lopsided than the last.

Your vision swims for a brief moment and you swallow back the growing lump in your throat. Come on now, you can do this. You've done this so, so many times before. What was so different this time around?

Just a few more to go. That's all. Then you will be done.. well, then onto the puncture in your shoulder. The shoulder that also happened to be connected to your dominant hand. Great.

"Maus."

You can do this- just stab, push through- wait no, not like that. Pull it out again. Now, do it properly this time-

"Maus." Black gloves invade your sight and you grunt, trying to look around them.

The next time the needle pierces your skin it goes in just short of perfectly–success!–but it's good enough. Will keep your blood in, at least. Then comes tying it off and- come on, don't be difficult now.

Just toss over- like tha- wait, no. Just lift and- fuck.

A low rumble is all you hear and then those gloved fingers are wrapping around your wrist once more and effectively halting your progress. You huff, looking up to glare at him only to find his own hardened gaze staring down at you.

"-keep trying, you are only going to hurt yourself." Wait, had he been talking this whole time? "Then what use would you be then, hm? You would be of no help if you died because of your own damn stubbornness."

You feebly try to tug your hand back, but he doesn't budge, simply using his other hand to pluck the needle from your hand. Narrowing your eyes, you do the only thing you can do; throwing hundreds of imaginary knives at that stupid smug look in his eyes and internally cursing him out.

After your two's little staring contest goes on long enough for your captured hand to start going numb, you relent. Letting out a heavy sigh and dropping your gaze.

König makes a small noise of approval and releases your wrist. You don't watch as he finishes up the mess of stitches sewn into your thigh, nausea returning with a vengeance and forcing you to shut your eyes again.

He finishes up relatively quickly, faster than you probably could have in this state, and rinses the wound again before pasting a bandage over it.

"I need you to look up."

"Hm?" Light pressure under your chin causes your eyelids to flutter back open and you frown.

"Wha-?"

"Up." He reasserts, using his guiding touch to urge your head up and out of the way. Forcing you to straighten out your shrimp-like posture and provide König with access to your injured shoulder.

Said shoulder that was more bruises and blood than it was untouched flesh; able to get a decent look at it now that König had removed the sloppy work that was your mess of torn fabric and duct tape.

He repeats the same steps you had to clean the wound and this time you watch. Less so keeping an eye on the weeping wound and more so on the hand sticking the–new, he had discarded the one used on your thigh–thin metal through your skin. He's surprisingly delicate with it, despite his size he is far more precise with his sutures than you had been. Carefully inserting the needle and tying off every knot with practiced ease. Unlike you, he hadn't foregone his gloves, and that's why you notice it when you do. Having been so attuned to his busy hands.

His gloves are still stained with your blood.

Coated in a thick, dried layer of it. Dark against the already black fabric, flakes of crimson chipping off and drawing your eye.

It was the only part of him that showed any hint of wear from the morning's efforts. Every other inch of his uniform was speck-free, not a single item out of place, scuff mark, or splatter of blood.

It didn't make much sense for you to be fixated on such a minor facet after the laborious events of today. There were so many other things to draw your attention. Like the repeated motions of the curved metal puncturing your skin over and over again, for example. Or maybe his close proximity–accompanied by that weird feeling again.

But, no. Every last bit of your remaining attention span was focused solely on your own blood marking his hands. You sounded insane, even to yourself and that was an entire feat of its own.

You release a small breath of relief when he pulls away, slapping on another thick bandage over your second, freshly stitched injury. Then comes a sudden sting right above your eyebrow and you jolt away with a hiss.

Refocusing back into reality, König is still standing above you. Only this time he's welding an antiseptic-soaked cotton ball, also tarnished with your blood.

"Cut is deep." Is the vague explanation you get, coupled with a small gesture to your face. "No stitches will be needed. But,"

He reaches down to rifle through the first aid kit and makes a soft sound of victory when he finds whatever he's looking for. Holding your face still in one hand, he dabs at the cut a few more times before switching sides and drying it off. König throws the dirtied cotton along with wherever he'd discarded the scraps of your clothes and other miscellaneous trash.

Next comes another burning sting as he presses something over the wound. A few 'something's.

"A few pieces of tape should do the trick." He muses as he smoothes the sterile strips against your skin, the faint metallic scent of your own blood flooding your senses. Gross.

You really needed some sleep, or maybe it was finally time to check yourself into some kind of mental reform. Seriously, this was getting out of hand.

"Now," König pulls away for the final time, doing a brief scan of your exhausted form and nodding to himself. "Sleep."

You half expected König to leave it at that, to exit the room like the other four had. And probably lock the door behind him. Your hopes are crushed when he takes a seat a few feet away from your cot, settling into an uncomfortable-looking chair you hadn't noticed beforehand.

Oh, right. The Captain had assigned him as your personal babysitter. How fucking lovely.

Scooting back to slump against the wall furthest away from the other man, you send him a weak glare. Wanting nothing more than to argue that you can't sleep like this–not with him watching over you like some damn stalker–you find that when you try, you can't.

For what feels like the millionth time today, your eyelids droop until you cannot resist any longer. Falling completely shut and likely not going to open for a while, you give in. Unable to find it in yourself to give a damn right now.

Besides, you could.. moderately trust König wouldn't murder you in your slumber. He hasn't yet. And that seems to be enough for your sleep-deprived brain, as sweet unconsciousness soon drags you under.

___

One | Two | Masterlist | Next

___

(finally figured out how to tag y'all properly! Sorry bout that. Thought I was doing it right this whole time 😞)

@cptg00s3 @ruthgrimxiao @20nerd04-blog @gloma08 @mikahrh @in-down @hauntedapplefarm @mello-life69 @unkn0wnd3ad @tayaisback @starre-eyes @ravage-reposts @suhmie

If you want to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments!

#call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #könig cod #könig x male reader #reader insert #gay #mlm

158 notes · View notes

justsomefunshit · 11 months

Text

About the Roy and Jamie fight:

I think people forget Jamie used to be a real prick. He’s done a real 180, but people who have actually worked on the really bad parts of themselves know that those parts of us don’t just leave. For a character that was introduced as The Prince Prick of All Pricks, his first instinct being lashing out and putting people down, to change so much after so much turmoil in his life (going to Richmond, leaving Richmond, doing the reality show and coming back to Richmond) is beautiful to see. But even after he came back we see a little bit of that instinct coming back. When the team gives him the signal, he starts by saying “I’m no doing it wrong, you’re doing it wrong”. He’s frustrated, but there no need for him to say that. He could just start by explaining. To part of him LIKES being a prick. Because is part of who he is.

Roy was introduced as a rude and angry captain in the end of his legendary career whose response to the world is rage and violence. He’s watching his career end in a mediocre team and doesn’t have any connections with his teammates. The closest relationship he has within the team is with Jamie. The asshole who’s rude to everyone, who has a funny and kind girlfriend, the one who he already knows is going to be a legend. Roy’s change comes later, slower, because, just like Zava could, legends can get away with things other people can’t. Nobody asked Roy to change. Richmond didn’t care that Roy was an absent captain. That he was violent. Sky sports didn’t care that he swore on live tv. Ted didn’t ask him to change when he asked him to come back. It was only in the middle of this season that Rebecca gave him a real talk.

And then we come to their interactions this episode. Roy sees jamie and keeley hugging and assumes the worst. He asks jamie out for a beer, something we know never happened bc jamie hasn’t had beer in months. We have the callback of the fist bumps, now offered by Roy. In the bar, Roy is obviously sincere when he says that he’s proud of jamie (but I honestly think he was going for a compliment sandwich), but he immediately segways into the subject of keeley. He’s so insecure in his relationship with keeley (and probably with Jamie) that it comes of possessive and dismissive of Jamie. We can see in his face that he means it as a competition, as if HE won. And Jamie responds in kind, reaching for the prince pricks of all pricks that lives in him, and that Roy can access easier then anyone. They have more equal ground now, they both like and respect each other. But they are both also highly competitive, both insecure, both known for lashing out when cornered, Jamie with his words and Roy with his fists. Jamie knew what he was doing when he talked about the video. He WANTED to hurt Roy. And roy responded how he used to, because Jamie acted like he used to.

And that is the nail on the coffin to Roy. The next morning he asks to be a diamond dog. Because he baited Jamie and he knew it. And when jamie baited him back, he fell for it. He asked for everything that happened the night before, and I can bet you that it was jamie that suggested they go talk to keeley. And it was jamie that offered dinner. Because jamie HAD to change, and Roy witnessed him doing it. He knows is possible, he’s seen it, and he finally realized he can’t do it alone, bc he’s been trying and fell back as soon as his insecurities hit a little harder. And he brought his best friend down with him, even after seeing and experiencing his change. He asked for help because he doesn’t know how to deal with having a best friend, someone who knows you, who challenges you, who makes you feel like you can do better.

Because that’s what happens when you have real and vulnerable relationships. No one can hurt you more then your best friend, because they know you better then anyone. The people who know you are the ones that can bring the worst out of you. And you cans also bring the worst out of them. Roy already knows Jamie tries very hard not to do this. The least he can do is try to learn too.

(This is not a defense of the behaviour, it’s just been driving me insane that people are saying it out of character. It’s not. It’s a natural response and a callback and a demonstration of HOW MUCH their relationship changed that they stop fighting to come to a “better”conclusion (it’s not), and then get dinner together. No hard feelings.)

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #jamie tartt #roy kent #I’m sorry for this rant #but I’ve been going crazy with this #with a lot of other reactions too #but Jamie is my bbgirl and I’m not standing by with people dragging him #the whole point of the show and SAID in this episode is that no one is perfect #I’m sorry if this doesn’t makes sense I just had to get it out of me

290 notes · View notes

kiralisa · 2 months

Text

BABYSIT GONE WRONG??

probably two parts, sukuna being sukuna. You gotta an attitude, masochist if you squint, not proofread bc I’m silly like that. MDNI

Abt: you’re a special grade sorcerer, second to Gojo. Ofc you had an ego and a bit of an attitude but who would’ve guessed it would be you watching the king of curses…and who would’ve guess it would be him fixing ur attitude.

You wouldn’t say you’re a brat. You’re more like a sarcastic smartass that’s all…you’re a special grade sorcerer, second to the Gojo satoru. So of course your ego would be a bit high for someone who’s had all the odd against them. After yuji itadori was able to abstract sukuna and his soul apart from eachother, sukuna was placed in confinement and his new cage was being isolated with wraps and wraps of talisman. Of course someone would have to “babysit” him to make sure he didn’t cause any mess people wouldn’t be able to clean up and of course…that would be you.

“B…babysit?!!” You yelled clearly shocked and annoyed, you turned to Satoru while grabbing his clothes (your curse technique allows you to disable any curse technique or any attack that has curse energy, enabled in it.) “Look we need someone to keep him on a leash…if you do it I’ll let you use my black card to buy whatever you want.” Ur eyes soon shine with excitement. “Perfect!!! Show me where the ancient grandpa is!!!” You said clearly excited that you’ll be maxing Satoru’s card (which is impossible.)

Skipping your way to the locked door with what looks like a thousand talisman but you didn’t have a care in the world. You simply opened the door easily before pushing the two doors making a loud shoosh almost confusing you because of how easy they were to open from the outside. you soon saw the four armed monster who blankly stared at you making it almost impossible to read his expression. “Great another brat.” He stated before deeply sighing. “Oh calm ur tits babes, I’m only here to ‘babysit’ you~” you said in a sarcastic tone. He turned to look at you clearly pissed off, if Satoru was gonna make you watch him you’ll do it your own way…

“So….why are you uh….that.” You said trying to make small talk. “What do you mean woman.” He said in a deep voice, you couldn’t tell if he was deepening it on personal. “Well I mean you have 2 arms…4 eyes…hey do you have 2 di-“ You were quickly cut off when Sukuna slammed into the cage full of talisman. “Oh..?” You said a little shocked clearly off guard. “You speak to much.” He said while grabbing the cage to were his knuckles turned white. “Aww what are you gonna do about it~” you said clearly laughing because he isn’t able to do anything to you because he’s stuck in the cage.

“If I got out of this…hellhole of a cage you would regret every word you said to me.” Sukuna stated with a scowl on his face. “Awww is Suki flirting with sweet lil me~~~” you said tapping his nose…big mistake. He quickly grabbed ur arm and dragged it in his cage making your body hit the cage with a loud bang. “O..ow asshole..” you yelped trying to get up before he stepped on your arm making you stream in pain.

Sukuna smiles before grabbing ur arm and dragging you even closer into the cage. You quickly tried to get away from Sukuna. “Hah…you can’t even get me in that cage….weak bastard..” you said weakly getting up trying to wipe your bloody nose. “You know…you act all tough but I know the only thing you’re good for is babysitting.” He said in a deep chuckle, of course your ego couldn’t let him say that. “Oh really bitch?! Try me asshole.” You said while angrily walking towards him. He watches you weakly stand while looking at him through the cage.

“Heh…and the only good thing for us being in a cage like the dog you are.” You said before walking away from him. You knew he was getting under your skin on purpose, you were doing the same but it’s only ok when you do it. You turn around and smirk sarcastically at him while he was still deadpanning you due to your comment. It make you chuckle. “So sukuna. Still being pissy?” You questioned with a laugh. “Keep laughing until I actually break your arm.” He stared deep into your eyes.

“What’s the matter old fossil, are you done being a big baby?” You couldn’t help but chuckle, after all the king of curses. Sukuna was helpless against you. You enjoyed his attitude although he almost broke his arm and made you bleed you still couldn’t help but be intrigued by the curse. “Hm..woman I need to tell you something.” He said before getting up walking towards the cage again. “Ugh what could it be king of curses.” You scoffed, 8 more minutes and you could finally leave, you soon heard a jingle of a lock. “Did anyone ever tell you…” you quickly turned to look behind you before u felt a large hand roughly grab you. “There’s a reason why the doors were locked. Because after all…you didn’t think a tiny cage would be able to keep me in?”

Should I make a part 2…?😍😈

Please do not copy, plagiarize, or steal my work!!

But please be inspired by this fanfic and make ur own!

#jujutsu fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna fanfic #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna jujutsu kaisen

74 notes · View notes

ranhaitanisgf · 4 months

Note

Hi! Headcanons of “delinquent and class president” with Senju and “stolen bag”. Someone steals your bag and Senju helps get in back for you. You decide to treat her for some bubble tea to thank her. Thank you.

— senju kawaragi (akashi) // delinquent & class president // stolen bag

☆ ˎˊ˗ hellooo thanks for requesting senju !! i luvvvv writing for her omg :D i think the senju lovers r gone from the fandom cause i never see any fics abt her .... its ok tho im here to revive senju love bc she deserves the world ! hope you all enjoyyy xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.1k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

❥ coming out of school, you were already dog tired, having run around all day doing errands and completing your responsibilities as class president, (sometimes you wonder to yourself why you ran for the position). all you had on your mind was going home and flopping on your bed for a while, and who knows, maybe you would even make a nice snack and watch a movie!

❥ you probably should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy, especially after the day you’d just had.

❥ as you were walking out of school, you got shoved to the side, feeling your bag get yanked from your shoulder. you managed to balance yourself enough to not fall, which gave you a perfect view of the punk who had just stolen your school bag off your shoulder, running away snickering. all you really could do was sigh; of course this was happening to you. why wouldn’t it?

❥ you were too tired at that point to try and chase the culprit, much less even yell for someone to help, (really, do people ever actually help in these situations?). you weren’t sure what this punk thought he was going to get out of stealing your bag; all you really had in there were class notebooks and class budgeting documents you were taking home with you to complete. if he wanted to complete all your work for you, then he can be your guest for all you care.

❥ you were ready to just continue your way back home, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed someone sprinting in the direction of the culprit, wait no, how is this person running so fast?!

❥ you watched in the distance as the person roundhouse kicked the punk, grabbing your bag from his fallen body and casually walking back towards you. you just stared at them in shock, realizing who the person had been once they got closer to you.

“no way…senju-chan?!” “yo! i got your bag back, (y/n)-chan!”

❥ all you could do was stare at the girl in front of you as she held it out to you; there were so many questions running through your mind at the moment, though the first question you had was is she wearing a gang uniform?!

❥ after your moment of shock, you decided to put all your questions aside. no matter how she did it, senju had gotten your bag back from you, saving you from a lecture from your teacher about losing class documents. you gratefully accepted your bag from her, trying to think of a way to pay her back.

“ahh, you really didn’t have to get it for me! i’d already accepted it…” “nonsense! i won’t allow anyone to dishonor my beloved class president!” “haha, i think you’re exaggerating a bit, but thank you, truly. actually, are you free right now?” “hmm, i think so…? why?” “let me treat you to a meal as a thank you!”

❥ and so the two of you set off, casually chatting as you searched on your phone for a nearby place to take her to. you kept repeating to yourself in your mind that this is not a date, that you were just treating her as a thank you! after all, she helped you out in a big way, so this is normal, right?

❥ the two of you eventually ended up at a boba restaurant; although you knew that this was definitely going to hurt your wallet, you just couldn’t say no to senju’s pleas when she saw the place, talking about how she’d been wanting to check out it for ages.

❥ as the two of you were ordering and you saw the price kept going up on the register, you knew that your wallet would be lighter when you put it back into your pocket, (you decided it was a necessary expense, so it was fine).

❥ when the food came out, the smell of it made you realize just how hungry you’d been from staying after school for so long. from the way senju was eyeing the different dishes, you were sure that she felt the same way, which made you feel better when the both of you started chowing down. the boba that you had gotten was especially good, and by the time the two of you were finished, there was absolutely no scraps of any food left.

“wahh, that was so good!! thank you, (y/n)-chan!”

❥ you’d felt a bit sad at the fact that the two of you had finished already, but you supposed that you already knew senju wouldn’t be able to stick around too long. when the two of you exited the restaurant, you began to say your goodbyes to the girl, which made her look a bit confused.

“huh? why’re you saying bye? i’m gonna walk you home, of course!”

❥ her statement took you off guard, especially when she was acting like it was an obvious thing to do, (were you crazy? do normal people do this after hanging out with friends?). you just went along with it, feeling happy that you got to spend a little bit more time with senju.

❥ you had to admit that you felt safer with her by your side, especially now that it was getting a lot darker out, (seeing her roundhouse kick someone like it was nothing highly contributed to this). at some point during the walk, she looped her arm with yours, happily continuing with your conversation as if she hadn’t done anything.

❥ when the two of you arrived to your house, you thanked her, bowing in gratitude for her getting your bag back for you. she’d brushed off your thankfulness, saying that it was nothing, she was glad to help! she started going on about how she would never let anybody dishonor her class president and favorite classmate, and that nobody would be bothering you now that she had claimed you, (what was she talking about? actually, you’re not going to ask).

❥ before you went into your house, senju suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you a bit closer to her. her lips pressed against your cheek for a moment, giving you a peck. she pulled away a moment later, giving you a big grin and saying that she would treat you on your next date.

“bye bye, (y/n)-chan! i’ll see you tomorrow!” “wait, senju?! come back- ah, she’s gone…”

❥ you stood for a moment, staring at her as she ran away, watching as she faded into the distance. while that wasn’t exactly the outcome you had been expecting…you supposed it was okay for now, (you were absolutely over the moon).

❥ you were definitely going to be having a talk with her tomorrow.

54 notes · View notes

shinyopal · 1 year

Text

random mys headcanons that have nothing to do with anything (mostly garroth and laurance tbh)

Garroth doesn’t like carrots

Laurance can’t skate

kc/nana did roller derby

Laurance has a belly button piercing (cadenza did it one night in the middle of his grade 11 year bc they were bored)

no one knew about the piercing, including garroth, for a long time, and garroth found out first anyways

Garroth found out bc his shirt rode up or he was wearing a crop top (idk which) when they were hanging out outside of school one day

dante hates socks

zane loves them

nana likes toe socks

vylad doesng like shoes and would be barefoot all the time if he could be

aphmau HATES pants but wears them anyways

vylad did figure skating before he transitioned

travis did gymnastics

Laurance is like 5’9

Garroth is like 6’2 or 6’3

sometimes the higher difference flusters laurance even if it isn’t much

when aph is being feral garroth just picks her up and throws her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

laurance swears like a sailor

Laurance has heterchromia but i’ve already spread my propaganda about that

Laur and Gar went to prom together “as friends” but both were like ‘omg it’s like a date’

Garroth listens to pop-punk music (Zane showed it to him originally and he just ended up really liking it)

He also makes people playlists, but not of their music tastes, he makes them based on songs he likes that reminds him of them

Laurance got a CD for his birthday one year

Laurance smoked in highschool but quit early-mid university

Garroth and vylad LOVE spice

zane can’t handle it

nana likes spice too

aaron prefers sweets but gets hot sauce as gifts (he sneaks it into nanas cupboard)

aph has a full length mirror in her room bc she likes to sing and dance into it like she’s in a movie

Laurance did the rice purity test and got higher than everyone thought he would (other than garroth bc they’ve told each other everything since like grade ten)

Laurance has very feint freckles that you can only see when you’re very close to his face

Garroth loves his freckles

Laurance likes mug rootbeer

he can also do the thing where you take the bottlecap off using his shirt

garroth and laurance wait for each other after practice in highschool

zane and vylad go to every game garroth has that they can make it to because their parents don’t care enough to go (i’m a bad ro’meave parents truther)

zane has a shellfish allergy

vylad has celiacs

katelyn is lactose intolerant

katelyn is also v buff

garroth does ballet in his free time

aaron has a very big dog (like a newfoundland) and his name is rug

dante is epileptic bc i am and i said so

laur calls like everyone baby girl or something (he calls garroth baby boy sometimes and it makes him go beet red)

zane is a bluey enjoyer

i have so many more pls ask me about my random headcanons, i also have less random ones and ones that interlace but that’s for another post

314 notes · View notes

ssa-atlas-alvez · 1 year

Note

Hi Atlas :0 i have new request but for BAU team with teen!werewolf!reader?

Hotch & Rossi are the only ones to know about reader being a werewolf when he is put on the team bc government wanted to keep him under the eye and recruited him in the end, his records are sealed so Penny doesn't snoop around the important stuff lol. And Rossi being his handler and the main person to see after the boy, to do a report to Hotch about his performance etc. And the reader mostly being there for scent search ( like the reader has a sharp nose for scents and us able to distinguish them with ease even if old and somewhat able to even if masked under fresher scents or added scents) but he's in general a lot faster with more stamina and energy to burn unlike humans .

So the team gets to know the reader's so called secret by seeing him action just zooming past them to catch up with a escaping Unsub in a mountain-like scenery and they're having a hard time catching up to them bc Rossi gave him the go ahead bc the Unsub would otherwise be able to escape in-between the trees and rocks.

Just imagine reader being big enough in his werewolf form(doesn't matter if 4- or 2-legged form to me (as in folklore or twilight type lol) ) that he can just plop all his weight down on the Unsub and pin them to the ground. Possibly disarm them by grabbing the thing in their hands or biting their arms/wrists.

How would the team react? Would they have had some suspicions on the topic?

Sorry the request's a bit long again lmao. Please if the request is too much, your requests are closed or you just don't feel like it, don't feel pressured to do it! Stay hydrated, have a nice day and keep your head up! uwu

Okay, so I wasn't going to write this originally because I wasn't sure how to, but then I started thinking about it and ideas kind of just came to me aha. I hope you like it, I'm posting it now because I just finished writing it and I'm giggling and I just wanted to post it because I think it's funny, but not like a funny funny like a stupid funny if that makes sense?

Warnings: Bullet wound, blood, make shift first aid

Word count: 1385

“A handler?” You asked in disbelief, you scoff, shaking your head at the director with a laugh, “I don’t fucking think so, I’m not a dog-”

“We need someone to monitor you who’s on the team.” He said, pausing before continuing, “Like a mentor,”

“Then call it a mentor. Not a fucking handler,”

“Could you give us a minute?” Rossi asked, speaking for the first time. Hotch, Strauss, and the Director look at each other for a minute before leaving the room.

“The prick may as well ask me to roll over,” You muttered bitterly, wiping the frustrated tear that had made its way down your cheek.

“Look, kid, all I’m going to be doing is making sure you’re settling in okay,” Rossi said with a shrug, “I don’t care about what else they’re saying. I’m only concerned about if you’re okay.”

That’s how you were introduced to one: the fact that you would be working with the BAU, and two: that you’d have a ‘handler’ constantly monitoring you.

When you met the team, an hour or so later, they noticed that you seemed to be full of energy and, despite only having met Rossi an hour ago, seemed to be pretty loyal to him already. Over the next coming months, your secret (as promised) was kept between you, Rossi, and Hotch. All the team knew was that you ‘had good tracking skills’ and that’s why you were recruited. You knew the truth was going to come out eventually, but you didn’t think you would ever be prepared.

There wasn’t much difference with this case then the others, an unsub who was a horrible person, lashed out at people, the usual. He even had a lair surrounded by woods. When you found him and the team confronted him, he ran (also not unusual) and he was fast (unusual), really fast (definitely unusual).

You stare at Rossi until he nods, giving you approval. You pelt your legs fast after the unsub, even if you did lose him, you’d be able to find him quickly. He stunk of the familiar scent of blood, mixed with cigarettes, and Jack Daniels. You let yourself shift as you run, the familiar feeling of your bones resetting subtly as you did so - more energy and strength seeping through your body as you changed, clothes tearing as your body transformed. Soon enough, you’re ready to drop down on all fours, a growl crawling up your throat you do. It doesn’t take you long to catch up with him, maybe thirty seconds. When you do, you tackle him to the ground, keeping him pinned with a heavy paw, you lift your head into the air, howling loudly to signal to Rossi that he’s been detained.

The team stared at you in absolute shock when you walked back over to them, now dressed in the spare clothes Hotch and Rossi always kept close by (as a just in case).

“What the fuck-” Derek’s the first to speak.

“It’s sort of a long story?” You reply, unsure.

“There’s been numerous sightings of werewolf individuals throughout history, not to mention clinical lycanthropy,” Spencer chimes in.

“So you’re a-?”

“Say it,” You say dramatically, you hear Rossi and Hotch sigh deeply, already knowing where this was going. “Say it. Out loud.”

Derek and Emily share a confused look. “Werewolf.” Hotch mumbled, hoping to get this whole thing over with.

You turn around dramatically, “Are you afraid?”

“No.” You grin, you had never heard Hotch sound so done with you in your life. This was brilliant.

“This is the face of a killer, Bella.” You say, disappointed when none of them get your reference. “Really? None of you? JJ, come on, you know what Cullen means, surely you get it?”

“Sorry, I’ve never actually seen Twilight,”

“Ugh,” You groaned, “Penelope would get it, you all need to be more like Penelope and laugh at my jokes,”

“No need to bite back so hard, kid,” Derek grins.

“If this becomes a frequent thing, I might actually kill you.” You state.

“You’re all bark and no bite,” A growl sounds through your throat and your eyes flash. Derek puts his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright, no more jokes. Can you eat chocolate though? Serious question. Rossi, why’s he looking at me like that? Rossi, Rossi-!” Derek yelped as you tackled him to the ground.

“Yes I can eat chocolate, it makes me feel sick though.” You answer, you hadn’t shifted, you just wanted to scare him a little. “Nice yelp though, sounded like a little girl.”

“I did not!”

“Yeah, you did,” Emily answered with a snort.

Now, months later, you stand in a warehouse, locating the unsub with Rossi whilst you wait for backup. “He’s definitely here,” You mumble, “Jesus, he eats a lot of fast food,” Rossi gives a small snort, “I think he’s in here,” You say, pointing at the room just ahead of you. Rossi nods, raising his gun slightly as he begins to enter the room, you’re close behind.

You watch in horror as the gun cocks into place, you let yourself start to shift - knowing that you wouldn’t be able to make it in time in human form. You weren’t going to let them get hurt. You were nothing if not loyal. Rossi waits for the bullet. He knew it was going to happen eventually, it was inevitable in this line of work. But the bullet doesn’t come, instead, the crack of the gun in heard, as well as the sound of impact. Then nothing. And then the small whine comes. It’s pathetic and sounds like a wounded animal. A wounded animal. It clicks and Rossi looks around, spotting the form of a wolf, he watches as the fur shifts, slowly turning to skin in order to preserve your energy.

Another shot sounds and the unsub drops down dead. Rossi sends a brief nod of thanks to Morgan as he rushes over to you, shrugging off his windbreaker to place over you. Morgan joins him, peering over you, eyes widening when he sees the bullet wound. He reaches for the radio, “We need a-” Rossi puts his hand up and Derek stops.

“What do you need us to do?” Rossi asked, turning back to you.

“Rossi, he needs an ambulance,”

You shook your head, “My body will heal, I just need to get it out,” Rossi nodded as you lifted your head, the bullet wasn’t too far in. You could probably just reach in and grab it, you’re body would flush out any infection or bacteria that was in the wound and you’d be as good as new within a day or two. Your fingers hovered above the bullet wound and you let your head drop back to the floor. You take a deep breath before you plunge the fingers into the wound, feeling for the bullet. Your back arches and you ground your teeth, you clench the bullet with your finger tips and force yourself to take a deep breath before you pass out or something. And then, when you’ve got a good grip, you yank it out. And fuck it hurts. You groan loudly through your teeth, throwing the bullet to the floor.

“You okay?” Derek asked, you huff a small laugh as you nod.

“Just peachy,” You mumble. “I’ll be fine. The outside of the wound will close within a few hours anyway,”

“Won’t you bleed out?”

“Should be fine,” You said with a shrug, “This is hardly the first time I’ve been shot,” And with that, you force yourself back on your feet, clutching a hand to the wound as you walk.

When you’re back on the jet, now with a gauze over your wound, you lay slowly on the couch. “I know what will help,” You say, lifting your head up slightly, “I’m going to make you all watch Twilight. You need to get my jokes - they’re like over half of my humour and none of that can be appreciated if you haven’t seen it.”

“Is it any good?” Emily asked, you shook your head.

“Nope, it’s absolute horse crap,”

“Then why make us watch it?”

“Because you all need to suffer to get my humour,” You said, before adding, “And I’m injured so you can’t say no,”