#gnawing my own arm off over them.. etc etc

[griffonsgrove]

Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD

General Dating Headcanons | Vox

a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

wordcount: 1299

cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.

(PLATONIC):

Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.

However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.

When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday. 

You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. 

You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??

You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.

You didn't care too much for the latter.

This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s. 

You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.

You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.

One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??

He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.

He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.

He def goes through your search history.

He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.

You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.

OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.

You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.

But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.

(ROMANTIC):

Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.

Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.

That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.

Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.

He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.

Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.

CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.

Insecure much?

Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.

Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.

You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.

You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked. 

Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.

Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.

Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?

He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.

He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.

He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.

He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.

And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.

If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)

The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.

#hazbinhotel #hazbinhotelxreader #xreader #gender neutral reader #vox x reader #vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin x reader #headcanons #dating headcanons #hazbin hotel vox x reader #hazbin

[libertyybellls]

I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE ?

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; few years after winning his games, finnick endures the trials of being a victor and all he needs is a helping hand.

contains; ANGST, comfort, descriptions of forced prostitution, descriptions of gore, murder, typical hunger games mortality etc etc. not proofread… ever

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

the room once filled with a bond you could not quite replace, is now empty, gray. it lacks the golden boy who brings light to every aspect of your life- and it has been for two months now.

you know where he is, what he’s doing, and who he’s with. you know the light of his soul will be snuffed away by the calloused deceiving hands of the capitol- their everlasting appetite to claim their control over citizens and victors alike.

you almost dread the sound of your front door unlocking. your mind manifesting his misery would be long gone- begging to a higher power that he will be okay- that the pillars of his body are not crumbling in on itself.

nevertheless, as you near the front door- you see it in his eyes. he almost looks like the same 14 year old that got thrown into a death match and came out with two legs and two arms- but this time his legs can’t carry him any longer, his arms are practically hanging off his tired body.

the door is still open behind him, the chilled air seeping its way into your once warm home. his shoulders are slumped, there is no light in his eyes- only that small tinge he adorns when he is with you.

you want to pull him into your arms, to kiss the disgust off of his features, to show him he is unworthy of this muck treatment, that he is the only light that cannot be choked out, the anchor that is not misplaced, he is right where he needs to be now.

there’s a silent understanding, you can see the falter in his steps as he tries to walk towards you- so close to disintegration you can almost see his seams falling apart one by one.

you meet him halfway- pulling him into you- now you must be his pillar. you must cover his ears, quiet his thoughts.

his tears coat your shirt, your fingers run through his scalp. he wants to crawl out of his skin. he can still feel a touch that isn’t yours- it sets his nerves alight.

why won’t you leave me. his mind screams- but his voice can’t carry these words. leave me here, let me rot.

you can feel him self destruct, his knees fail and now you are kneeling infront of his vulnerable frame. you want him to look at you, to see what you see, but who are you to ask for more?

but all he sees is grief, blood from kids his age- even younger, he feels hands all along his chest- his back, he smells roses- luxury- a scent that isn’t home, he tastes metallic blood from his lips- gnawing from anxiety, he hears the praises- he hears that he’s special, that he’s so humble, what a handsome young man he is.

“i wish i could be good.”

you can’t see his face, you are glad in a way- you don’t think you’d be able to take it. “you are good finnick,” your own tears fall. “if anything you are good.”

you want to yell these words, scream them at him. so inconsiderate of you- but how dare he not see this is not his fault? a puppet has no control over his own arms.

finnicks mind screams more at the capital than himself now. your tactics have worked. you have taken every last bit of my innocence away. you control me. he begs to be left alone, he begs to be so pure and unsuspecting again.

you both know his fate, you know where he’ll be in a few years. you know that your love alone cannot keep him here- however strong. every inhale feels like poison- but he listens to you murmur as you rub his back, telling him to breath.

you see his eyes now, he tries to drink in your gaze- he wants it to be the last thing he sees, except less concerned, less worn, less worried. despite his thoughts only ever consumed by you, he looked pained- he looks as though he is elsewhere in his mind.

“nothings gonna hurt you now” sanity is a sheltered lie but you would rather surrender your wits than your boy. your fingers dance up and down his back now- erasing the sinful marks left laying in his mind.

-

so short so technically a blurb but wtv….

#finnick odair fluff #finnick fluff #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair smut #finnick angst #finnick oneshot #finnick smut #finnick fanfic #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n

[naeverse]

A Fate Worse Than Death - Part 1

🕷️staring: Miguel O’Hara x fem!Reader

🟥 preview: 

His eyes snapped open as he heard someone entering his office in a quiet, almost silent manner. Their footfalls, delicate, nearly imperceptible on the black flooring of his office. Due to his enhanced senses, he was able to hear the person way before he even saw them. 

He turned around, his pupils glowing blazing crimson, his fangs barred, and his claws extended from his fingertips. 

“Who the hell are you, and how the fuck did you get in here!?”

🟦 summary: 

Miguel O’Hara’s past comes back to haunt him when a mysterious stranger strolls into his office, carrying with them a profound misfortune that has the potential to ruin everything...

🕷️tw/cw. Angst, unprotected sex, fingering, body worship, dirty talk, multiple reader orgasms, big dick Miguel, mutual orgasm, etc… 

🟥pet names: (hers) Mi amor (My love), Bebè (Baby), Cariño (Darling)

🟦rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🕷️word count: 2K

(I do not own any of the fanart! All credit goes to original artist!)

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

Miguel O'Hara stood before his several orange monitors, his powerful frame covered in his customary blue and red holographic, skin-tight spidersuit. He had been there for hours, his broad shoulders rigid and his arms crossed, studying the monitors in front of him.

Not much ever happened. A few anomalies might be picked up during his surveillance, but he'd typically dispatch other Spider-People like Ben Reilly or Jessica Owens to handle and contain the anomalies. Miguel rarely left his "office," a sprawling space that combined a lab, an office area, and a living room.

The lab was on one side, with counters cluttered with unfinished projects, suits, gadgets, and weapons. Various items of technological equipment were scattered throughout the area alongside the incomplete inventions. At the opposite corner, his living room/bedroom could be found. 

Large curtains drawn back to darken the room, revealing a wide window overlooking Earth-928. The remaining furnishings included an end table and a large couch, the latter of which Miguel often found himself waking up on before returning to his position on his floating platform to stare at the orange screens as he had day after day.

Miguel yawned, his sharp, pearly white fangs briefly revealed as he opened and closed his crimson eyes, attempting to shake off sleep that threatened to overtake him. But then, a scent wafted into his nostrils. 

A scent that was entirely new to him within the confines of HQ.

His body immediately tensed. He closed his eyes and concentrated, sniffing the air with intent when he detected the strange aroma once more. This time, his eyes snapped open.

Miguel began to carefully search through his surveillance footage, trying to pinpoint the source of this unusual scent when, one by one, his screens started to turn off. In place of the once-bright, orange-tinted footage, he was met with black screens.

Frustration, confusion, and anger welled up within him, his eyebrows knitting together. 

‘What the hell is going on?!’ 

He snarled, scanning the monitors with his red eyes to uncover any clues about the sudden disruption. Yet, he found nothing out of the ordinary. He clicked his tongue in irritation.

‘There's no way the damn power went out. That's never happened before.’

"Lyla!?" he shouted, trying to get the attention of his trusted A.I. assistant, but there was no response. Worry gnawed at Miguel as the situation grew increasingly bizarre and concerning.

“Lyla! I’m not in the mood for games. Get out here! Now!” He bellowed, tapping his foot impatiently when Lyla didn’t show up once again. He growled, slamming his hands down onto his desk which was surrounded by blank screens on his hovering platform, his dark hair falling over his face. 

‘What the fuck is going on-”

That scent! 

It once more filled his nose. 

The aroma, more potent than it was before…

His eyes snapped open as he heard someone entering his office in a quiet, almost silent manner. Their footfalls, delicate, nearly imperceptible on the black flooring of his office. Due to his enhanced senses, he was able to hear the person way before he even saw them. 

He turned around, his pupils glowing blazing crimson, his fangs barred, and his claws extended from his fingertips. 

“Who the hell are you, and how the fuck did you get in here!?” 

His crimson eyes were trained on the mysterious figure who slowly emerged from the shadows of his office entrance and into the light. 

Miguel had no idea who this person was. The female appeared to be a spider-woman herself, though he had never seen them before in the Spider Society. 

The strange woman's multiverse watch on her right wrist was another peculiar feature. He questioned how she managed to obtain a device that he only gave to Spider Society members. 

The next thing he noticed about the enigmatic woman that troubled him was her suit.

It looked identical to his own…

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here!?” Miguel shouted once more, taking a fighting stance; he was prepared to attack, if necessary.

You stepped deeper into Miguel's "office," your body covered in a matching red and blue holographic, skin-tight spider suit, yours much smaller, more feminine-fitting, and perfectly shaped to fit your curves. Your face was covered by a matching, red and blue helmet, hiding your identity from the agitated male.

“So…this is the great Spider Society leader.”  You chuckled as you silently entered his office, your gloved finger trailing over the various projects he had been working on.

Miguel stared at you intently, fury growing in his chest at the fact that he still had no idea who the hell was wandering about his office, let alone how the woman had managed to get past the numerous security measures at the headquarters of the Spider Society.

Then it clicked…

The woman was behind the blackout…

He growled, his claws sharpening, his eyes reddening at the revelation.

“Yes, so I suggest you start answering my questions before things get ugly real fast.” Miguel threatened, stepping down from his platform with ease, his eyes glued on the unknown female whilst he stalked up to her. 

You snickered, looking over at him through your helmet. "Are you certain that you are Spider-Man? A hero does not immediately resort to violence.” You mocked with a smirk, bringing a scowl to Miguel’s lips. 

“You’ll quickly learn I’m not like the others.” Miguel replied, the timbre of his voice gravelly. He walked up to you, his claws itching to tear into your flesh. He knew that’ll be one way to get you to talk.

“Who the hell are you? I won’t ask again.” He demanded once more which caused your eyebrows to furrow under your helmet. 

‘He really doesn’t know…’

Your heart tugged at his obliviousness to who was standing right before him. You cocked your head, pouting. 

“You really don’t remember me, Miggy?” 

The nickname caused Miguel’s movements to instantly halt. His heart skipped a beat. 

There was only one person he knew that called him that…

Only one person was allowed to call him something so adorable and fluffy that made him feel so vulnerable and weak in the knees...

‘This can’t be her…

Can it?’ 

He shook his head, dismissing the idea. 

“She’s in another dimension, there’s no way this is her.’ 

His hands clenched into fist, his claws stabbing into his palms so harshly, it could break skin. He was shaking in complete rage. 

He hissed, pushing you roughly against the wall of his office, trapping you in between his arms. “I don’t know what type of game you are playing, but call me that again and I’ll happily tear you to pieces.” His crimson eyes staring daggers at you through your red and blue helmet. 

Your lips quivered as you gazed up at Miguel. He was unrecognizable to you. 

‘What's wrong with him!? What's happened to my Miggy?’ 

You stared up at Miguel through your helmet with shaky eyes. “M-Miggy-”

“I said stop calling me that!” He roared, loudly punching the wall behind you. The concrete cracking under his knuckles. You jumped at his sudden outburst and looked up at him in terror.

“What is the matter? W-What has happened to you?” Your helmet hid your heartbroken, terrified eyes that looked up at Miguel, your voice trembling whilst you spoke. A scowl formed on Miguel's lips at your words.

‘What the fuck is this woman talking about?!’ 

Miguel was very confused. He had always been this way. He had a reputation for being an irritable, rigorous, and intimidating leader. He has never revealed a different side to himself to anyone...

Except her…

He quickly dismissed the thought once more. 

‘This woman isn’t her…no matter how much I’ll want it to be. It's dangerous for her to be around me. 

I've kept my distance for a reason.'

He assured, the thought making his face become even more grim. He leaned in closer to you, his fury clearly visible. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but keep dodging my questions…” He harshly grabbed your throat with his large hand and gave it an uncomfortable squeeze.

“I’ll be forced to turn to other ways to get you to talk.” 

His words made your heart drop, his hand wrapped around your throat, terrified you. 

Miguel’s eyes glanced down at your body. You had a stunning and hot physique, one that would make him go a little crazy on any other day, and that made him feel strange. He had never felt this way about another woman.

He only had his eyes set on one…

One that wasn’t here with him…

He kept looking over your body, taking it all in. He was even more confused and irritated by your suit that resembled his.

His spidersuit was handcrafted by himself and Lyla, it was unique and one of a kind. Miguel’s signature red and blue, holographic suit was technologically customized to be able to withstand any and all types of attacks and blows. Unlike other suits, his signature one accommodated to his vampiric features of his spider powers.

So, seeing it worn by this mysterious woman only added to his confusion about who you were.

“Who are you and why the hell do you have this suit!?” He snarled, his talons pressing into your throat, causing the tech distortion of your suit to sputter around his fingers.

You whimpered at the sight of his crimson, hateful eyes and his aggressiveness towards you. “Y-You really don’t remember me?” 

“No, I don’t. Who the hell are you?” His tone was harsh and direct. It was for good reason. He couldn’t allow some stranger to be roaming around the spider society’s HQ, especially one as mysterious as you. 

Your lips trembled. You’ve hoped by your appearance, by your suit, your voice even that he would have remembered. 

Your hand shakingly went up to cup his face in your gloved palm. “H-has it really been that long, Miggy?” You whispered, slowly caressing his cheek with your thumb. 

Miguel’s entire body became rigid, your touch instantly making him melt. A sudden purr escaped his lips causing his eyes to flutter. 

That touch was so familiar,

Nostalgic. 

His sense of touch didn't let him down, even when his eyes and nose did. He could clearly recall this feeling, and he was perplexed as to how he could have forgotten it.

His hand that had been around your throat dropped to his side. He hesitantly slipped your hand into his big gloved one, withdrawing it from his cheek. Your hand, so small compared to his massive one. He tried his best to keep a stern look, he couldn't let his guard down until he was certain it was you.

"Take off your helmet…" 

He said slowly, trying to keep the firmness in his voice. 

You looked back at his ice-cold and steely visage after glancing down at his hold on your wrist. Miguel has changed from what you last remembered. He has never spoken to you in this tone before, and it startled you a little.

"W-what happened to you Miggy? Y-You-"

"Take off your helmet or I'll do it for you." 

His pupils reddened even more, his scowl deepening. His grip on your wrist tightened, his sharp nails starting to puncture the fabric of your holographic suit, creating tiny bursts of white distortion beneath his relentless grasp. You whimpered at the tightness. 

“O-Okay…” You stammered, causing Miguel’s heart to skip a beat. 

Obeying his command, your trembling free hand slowly rose to your neck, where an array of buttons awaited, one of them capable of removing your helmet. 

Miguel's heart pounded within his chest, a blend of anticipation and apprehension coursing through him. He yearned to unveil the identity of this enigmatic woman, yet he couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether it was genuinely you or not.

Your finger located the desired button, and with a soft click, your helmet started to disintegrate. Your hair sprung free from its tight confines, and your glossy eyes were unveiled to Miguel as you peered up at him.

His eyes widened, and he promptly released your wrist, backing away from you.

'This can't be!

S-she's not supposed to be here!' 

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed! Stay tuned for Part 2!! 😊❤️

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel x reader smut #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #atsv miguel #miguel ohara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 x reader

[skullwillow155]

Hi

Not much happens in this one. Just a bit of pining again moving on the chapter so I can get into the adventure, pining and maybe conflict between the 3. It may follow on from the arc or the adventure may change unsure yet. Wanted a bit of nice before I ended up writing angst etc.

If anyone maybe wants any requests or anything I could try while I try write this.

Also does anyone know where I can tag part 1 in part 2?

It is also on A03 if anyone wants to follow just incase you miss any

Chapter 2:

They had stood there for what felt like hours. In reality it wasn’t that long and they probably would have been longer but the air was getting chilly and she was shivering, becoming acutely aware of the change in temperature. Sanji had not let go even once but he was disturbed by Zoro telling him to move his ass. Zoro had been watching closely and could see Jeshika shivering and he couldn’t help but tell Sanji to move. Part of it was the cold and part of it was because he had enough of watching Sanji fawn all over her. He wouldn’t admit it but there was a feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wasn’t too sure what that was. He was just aware that he didn’t like it. He felt himself glaring at Sanji. “Move it stupid cook” Zoro shouted not seeing him move and inch, Sanji buried his head in Jeshika’s chest once more before pulling back and glaring at the swordsman. “Not got anything better to do than stare, Mosshead?” He snapped back almost wanting to smack the overbearing swordsman. “What did you say?” Zoro automatically snapped back and taking a long stride towards Sanji, getting right in his face. Sanji let go of Jeshika and started to argue back.

Jeshika’s looked at both of them as she was almost pushed gently away. The last few years had been tough but this, this somehow made it worth it. Just to see them argue; though wasn’t funny; was nostalgic. She let it go on for a little bit longer before grabbing both of their arms to get them to stop. Sanji and Zoro’s head snapped at the touch, almost forgetting she was there. Sanji immediately apologised. “I’m sorry my love...” his eyes turning to hearts before glaring momentarily at Zoro. She rubbed circles in his arm with her thumb before feeling Zoro turn to look at her. She could never read his emotions and being away from him for two years had made that incredibly harder. His eye flicked with some kind of emotion she had never seen before unable to pin point what it was.

Zoro was looking as Jeshika intently as he felt her grab his arm. He small hands barely grabbing his arm but he felt the small warmth left from her touch. He we about to speak when Sanji grabbed Jeshika and whisked her off towards the cabin. All of a sudden that warmth being replaced by blistering cold. He stood there dumbfounded just watching as she was being whisked away. Sure he knew that Jeshika and Sanji had something going on before they got separated but ever since he laid eyes on her again, he had a gnawing feeling in his chest. He shook his head slightly not wanting to explore that any further. He just put it down to anger at seeing that crappy cook. He closed his eye and sighed in frustration before making his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Sake. At least that’s what he told himself.

Jeshika felt herself bring whisked towards the kitchen, her hands losing grip of both the men in front of her. In that moment she was grateful as her stomach rumbled reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day due to her waiting on the deck for the 3 men to turn up.

Sanji was gripping her tightly wanting to get her away from the idiot as soon as possible. If he didn’t then he would probably still be in argument now.

As he led Jeshika to the kitchen; unable to stop touching her and complimenting her. He felt a twinge of sadness at the two years they had missed together. He would never let her go again, Luffy or the world government be damned. She was gorgeous and perfect on every way and it ate him up inside that he couldn’t see her beauty. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. As he directed her to the kitchen he took in every detail of her. Drinking her in. The way her hips and chest had filled in a lot more made his face blush and his nose bleed ever so slightly. He appreciated her beauty before but this was more. He gripped on her tightly noticing a few scars that run up her back. He didn’t like to see her get hurt and it broke his heart to see her perfect skin tarnished. He swears under his breath wanting to find out what happened. He made a mental note to ask later when they were alone. How he hoped they’d be alone soon. He ran his thumb over the small of her back and lead her to sit down on the kitchen. He kissed her cheek before being pulled away by Luffy who was beginning to get hungry too.

He sighed, not really minding his Captain shouting meat constantly. He rolled his eyes lit up a cigarette and begrudgingly left her sat at the table with Nami, Chopper and Robin Going smoothly back into his role as though he hadn’t been gone two years. With one more glance to make sure Jeshika was OK. He wiped the blood from his nose, washed his hands and prepared them all a wonderful meal. In the corner of his eye he could see green hair walking into the kitchen and making a beeline for the alcohol. “Same old mosshead” he glared trying not to turn his head to look at him. Instead focusing on the task at hand. What he didn’t see was Zoro taking a seat next to Jeshika and offering her a glass of Sake.

Everyone else is enjoying being back together telling some stories of what happened all the while Jeshika was just taking in her surroundings. Looking everyone individually and seeing all the changes that had occurred. Her eyes constantly glittering before Zoro and Sanji. She happily took the Sake, and stayed uncharacteristically quiet. She was using this time to soak everything back up and get used to the feeling of not being alone and being with her crew. Her eyes lingered on Sanji as Zoro’s eye briefly lingered on her and she wondered what there relationship would be like now. Sanji seemed the same with her but she knew the time away was long.

She felt Zoro’s eye on her and raised an eyebrow. He looked away quickly but she could have sworn there was a pink tint to his cheeks. She brushed it off before drinking down her Sake and listening to everyone.

As the night wore on and she got increasingly more drunk and tired, her eyes grew weary. She was happy. She again could faintly hear laughter and arguing through her foggy mind. She drifted off to sleep feeling someone pick her up and carry her to bed.

#one piece #fanfiction #part 2 #fanfic #zoro #sanji #zoro x reader #zoro x oc #sanji x oc #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #nami #chopper #nico robin #robin #franky #luffy #monkey d luffy

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 (ma lumière des étoiles)

valentine's day masterlist

summary - rick finds things for you out on a run, and it ends in a love confession.

the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Rick was scouring the aisles, looking for supplies for the group to survive. He looked up and down the shelves, stuffing some things into the large duffle bag he was carrying, Daryl on the other side of the store doing the same. Rick’s eyes landed on something that reminded him of you, his best friend, the woman Rick secretly loves. A large grin made its way onto his face as he grabbed the stuffed animal, knowing how much you loved them. The tiny fluffy pig clutched in his big dirty hands as he placed it gently inside the bag before moving along the aisle and stuffing a block of delicious chocolate into the bag, knowing you’d be extremely excited to have a taste of your favourite treat again. 

He walked around the corner, nearly bumping into Daryl, who scowls at him. “Got everything?” Daryl nods, eyes falling to Rick’s open duffel bag and raising a brow as he notices the stuffed pig, smirking a bit when Rick rubs the back of his neck, cheeks turning a rosy pink. “Shut up. C’’mon, let’s go.” Daryl sticks his hands up before the two leave the store, and Rick’s eyes glance over. Noticing a pretty arrangement of flowers in a field, he gnaws on his bottom lip, wondering if it would be too stupid.

Daryl grunts. “Go.” Rick looks over at him, his brow raised. “She’ll love them. I’ll watch your back.” Rick nods, thanking him as he ducks over and begins gathering as many flowers as possible while Daryl stands guard, watching for anything. Rick smiles and quickly runs back, both men hopping into the car and driving off to where the group is staying. He begins to tie the stems together, making a bouquet for you. “Ya gonna ask her out?” Daryl grunts again, huffing as he drives.

Rick looks over, playing with the stem of the flowers, and he shrugs. “I don’t think I will. She’s my best friend, and I wouldn’t want to destroy our friendship if she doesn’t return my feelings.” His head turns, and he gazes out the window, watching everything pass by as he thinks about you and how beautiful you are. He misses Daryl rolling his eyes at his words, and they finally arrive at their destination. Daryl’s eyes fall on your awaiting figure, smirking as you beam at the sight of their car, the worried look on your face finally washing away. Daryl hits Rick’s arm and gestures to you, huffing at the stupid grin on his face. The moment Daryl stops the car, Rick jumps out and heads straight toward you, chuckling as you run toward him, jumping up and wrapping your legs tightly around him as you bury your face into his neck. “Hey, are you okay?” Rick holds you close, his hand wrapped into your hair as he hugs you back.

“Missed you. You guys were gone for a long time.” You whisper into his neck, smelling the musky scent only he manages to have naturally. You pull back and look into his pretty blue eyes, taking in his beard and the greys making their way into it. “Did you find any comics for Carl? He’s been talking nonstop about it for a while.”

Rick nods, his eyes half-lidded as he stares at your lips. “Yeah.” He rasps, his voice so quiet you wouldn’t be able to hear if you weren’t so close. He blinks, eyes slowly moving up your face and connecting with your eyes. “I, uh, I found some things for you, too.” 

You beam, squeezing his shoulders a bit as your still wrapped around him, so lost in each other that you guys don’t notice the group staring and smiling, making bets to see how long it would take for the two of you to admit that you love each other finally. “Really?” Rick nods again, feeling anxious. “You didn’t have to! But, I’m not going to say no to gifts.” You smile cheekily, hopping down so he can show you. Your eyes finally take note of the bouquet gripped tightly in his hands. “Ohh! Who’s the lucky lady?” Your heart squeezes as the words fall from your lips because whoever she was, was so lucky to be able to catch Rick’s attention. 

Rick rubs the back of his neck, shyly handing you the flowers. “Uh, I picked them for you….” His stomach twists in a good way as you smile at him, your fingers brushing against his hand as you grab the flowers from him. 

You lean forward and smell them, eyes still connected with his. “They’re pretty, thank you.” You watch as Rick kneels and opens the bag, and a squeal escapes you as he pulls out a fluffy stuffed pig, handing it to you with a soft smile as you study the toy, hugging it close to your chest. “It’s so cute! Rick!” He chuckles, and you watch as he continues to pull out more stuff. A gasp escapes you as you notice the package in his hand. “You didn’t! Oh my god, Rick!” You smile as he hands you the chocolate and feel your mouth water at the treat you haven’t had in forever. You are too busy staring at the chocolate that you don’t notice him looking up at you with a sparkle in his eyes. 

Rick clears his throat as he nervously waits for your eyes to look down at him, and when they do, his breath hitches. “I… I found something else for you.” He slowly opens his hand, revealing a beautiful necklace with a small star pendant. Your eyes widen, and Rick begins to worry, “You don’t have to accept it! We can forget I even showed you!” He quickly stands, about to tuck the necklace into his pocket, when you stop him, unwrapping his hand and gently grabbing the jewellery.

“I love it, Rick. I love everything you’ve gotten me.” You turn around, moving your hair out of the way and holding the necklace around your neck, waiting for Rick to help. “Clip it for me?” He nods, clearing his throat as he grabs the necklace, clasping it for you. Both your breaths hitch as his fingers softly graze your neck. You turn back around, swallowing the lump in your throat as you notice how close you are, slowly looking up and into his eyes. You blink and test the waters, placing your hand softly on his chest, slowly moving it up until you cup his cheek. “Rick… I…” Your tongue flicks out, and you lick your dry lips.

He looks down at you, one hand falling to your hip, and the other slowly caresses your cheek. Rick slowly leans forward, fearing that he won’t hear what you say unless he’s closer to you. 

“I…” You swallow, feeling your heart in your ears as you stare into your best friend’s eyes. Your eyes dart down to his lips and back up again, a gasp escapes you as he leans towards you, your eyes closing as his lips connect with yours, and they move slowly. Rick cups your cheeks, deepening the kiss, swearing that fireworks are going off. 

He slowly disconnects and rests his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. “I love you, Y/n. I’ve loved you since I met you, and I will forever be in love with you.”

You smile, resting your hand against his cheek. “I’m in love with you too, Rick.” You both break out into laughter as you hear cheers coming from behind you.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#imyourbratzdollwork #imyourbratzdollvalentinesday #rick grimes x best friend reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #rick grimes #rick grimes fan fic #rick grimes fanfic #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes imagines #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes one shot #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes angst #rick grimes x female reader

[tobyislame]

some more ticci toby headcanons

once again consider this a headcanon salad i'm still figuring out how to format these

- in my canon he's from minnesota. he just feels like a minnesotan

- also in my canon he lives in a shoddy little abandoned cabin in the woods (header image is along the lines of what i think it would look like). the mansion still exists he just chooses not to reside there cus he'd much rather have his own space that he can control

- never has the big lights on in his house cus it makes him crazy. instead there's just headless lamps/lanterns/candles strewn all over

- best believe the place is messy as shit. imagine if a 16 year old boy was allowed to be a homeowner. yea pretty fucking vile right

- his place just smells like raw wood and weed you walk in it just slaps you in the face

- all of his clothes have that vague cigarette smell on them

- he smells like pinecones and wet soil (on a good day)

- thinks axe masks the fact that he hardly showers unfortunately

- also thinks just using mouthwash is the same as brushing your teeth unfortunately

- honestly he's just super shit at taking care of himself, especially since his body lacks the tools to queue him in on some stuff

- like how cipa causes him not to feel hunger. he can't recognize when he's hungry so he often goes way too long between meals

- he has a little notebook where he keeps track of when he eats. it's meant to help him know when he should eat something but he consistently forgets to keep up with it

- he just isn't equipped with any of the tools necessary to take care of himself, both physically and mentally. he's in pretty bad shape, some extra help would probably do him good

- realistically with how much he disregards self-preservation he'd be fucking dead by now so he isn't entirely helpless. he knows he's accident-prone so he keeps first aid shit with him at all times, he knows blood means bad and that he should probably stop what he's doing that is making the blood happen, he knows to scan over himself every once in a while to check for unnoticed injuries and such, etc etc.

- cus of the gaping gash in his cheek he has to eat foods that are compatible with his disfigurement. he also always has to drink through a straw

- he does not like waffles. he does like pancakes however

- interestingly those with cipa have a lower sensitivity to capsaicin so he eats spicy stuff like a fuckin CHAMP. someone gave him one of those samyang noodles to try yk the one that's hot as BALLS and he was just like "i mean yea it's good"

- he's kind of just always covered head to toe with bandages. i think he'd have an excoriation (skin picking) disorder so he HAS to keep his arms and hands wrapped up, otherwise he'll just obsessively pick/bite/gnaw at his skin

- the rest of his body is perpetually scattered with bandaids and such on account of how scraped up he gets just being himself

- on the night of The Incident he got caught up in the fire. flaring up his chest and a section of the left side of his body are burn scars. there are a conglomerate of reasons as to why toby doesn't like to have his shirt off in front of ANYBODY and that's just one of them

- his motor tics tend to be on the more violent side (throwing things, hitting himself, hitting others, etc). however, he's learned how to sort of guide his tics from being one thing to another if that makes sense? idk i'm speaking from my own experience here and tics are a really difficult thing to put into words but like. if he can tell he's about to throw the thing that's in his hand he'll take that feeling and try to turn it into something smaller, so instead of throwing the thing a less destructive tic will occur instead. if any of that made sense

- more often than not he's got an earbud in or his headphones on listening to music. he finds that it makes it much easier for him to make his way through the world. that and when he's listening to music he's noticed that he hardly ever tics (usually) so yk that's also a bonus

- spends a lot of his time climbing trees and hanging out in them. also spends a lot of his time trying to make friends with the animals of the forest. he's gotten a lot better at knowing how to approach raccoons and possums and stuff. he likes to leave food out for birds and squirrels and such

- it's funny because he tries to be this hard-ass dude but as soon as he spots a deer he becomes the most gentle thing on earth in that moment. he'd probably grab your shoulders whispering all like "oh dude deer- shhh shh" and force you to crouch with him and stuff lmao

- he's dubbed the one rabbit in those woods that isn't afraid of him "dandy warhol". yea he's real good with names

- he leaves food trails for dandy that lead to his house because he thinks that's how people get pets. he does not realize he's also leading every other animal in that forest to his home

- he may be stupid .

#i should be replying to 2 discussion posts right now #ticci toby #toby rogers #ticci toby headcanons #creepypasta #tobyhcs

[alpydk]

Cabinet of Oddities (Part 15)

I just want to give a hug thanks to anyone who reads, likes, comments etc. Nana's story is a huge part of my life and getting to write it all has been an amazing experience that I'll be sad to see end. All of act 2 is currently written up but Act 3 is going to take me some time as I decide on the ending I best want for her. Again thank you, everyone <3 And if anyone is curious. Here are some screenshots to give you an idea of Nana and Thomas (Both were part of the DnD campaign.)

Ao3 link

Summary : She nodded and lowered her knees to be more open with him. “Long ago I felt-” She paused and Gale could feel her hand squeeze his as if she was seeking a type of solace. “When a person is in love, they say there is a warmth, a feeling of safety and longing. That feeling wasn’t there.” “A kiss does not necessarily have to mean love though, just as a hug certainly does not. Is that what you were expecting to feel?” He looked into her eyes. He had always been that of the hopeless romantic. As much as he wanted to believe his own words, he knew he was not the type to kiss without love, or at least potential love.

She woke up shouting a name. “Thomas!” The arms that wrapped around her didn’t bring comfort, only a feeling of being confined and she struggled against them as she fought her way from the nightmare. The tadpole seizing her moment of weakness shared the images that flooded her mind, the soldier in her arms, his skin enveloped in a cold sweat, his grey eyes closing forever, the pain in her heart as she held him to her chest sobbing that he shouldn’t leave her. 

She’d spent the night in Gale’s tent, the evening of poetry lasting considerably longer than either had intended. He had watched over her as she had fallen asleep on the cot wrapped in the softest blanket he owned. The way she’d curled up to sleep similar to how Tara did was something he found endearing and it was a long time before he’d been able to take his eyes off her. No, Gale. Now is certainly not the time to indulge in this type of consideration, not now that you know what you must do. When he heard her groan the first time he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it. It was only once he saw her tossing and turning, calling out in the cot that he reacted, putting his arms around her and holding her closely, stroking her hair, and whispering that she was safe, that he was there for her.

As the memory hit his thoughts, he finally understood the visions he had seen previously, the changeling holding the soldier. It was her and this man and he felt her desperation, her pleading with the gods to bring him back. Her actions made more sense to him now, her dislike of Mystra, her walls, and he tightened his grip upon her, holding her close, his fingers winding in her hair as she began to settle, the tears slowing their descent. “Shh, I’m here.”

She wiped her eyes and pulled herself slowly from his arms. He was hesitant to let her go but knew this was for the best. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while since that happened…” He could hear the shame in her voice.

“There is no need to apologise. We all have our own nightmares.” He thought of the orb, the dark corridor and the shadows that gnawed at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “No. I just- I want to forget.” 

He looked over at her. “That’s understandable, I won’t pressure you.” Seeing her in this state, all he wished was that he could hold her for longer, but too many times had he been pushed back. “I know you may be against this but in tough situations, people normally need a hug or to just be held, is there any reason you are so against it?”

Nana shuffled uncomfortably, trying to find a way out of his question. He’d seen the dream, he’d seen her holding someone so was it possible that it was he himself that was the problem? She was quiet as she answered. “I’ve never…” Her voice trailed out.

“You’ve never been held or you’ve never wanted to be held?” He seemed baffled by this situation. Nana was such an open person, she spoke, smiled, laughed, and was genuinely positive, yes he had noticed her aversion to touch, but to think that someone had gone all their life and never experienced something as simple as a hug seemed impossible to him. 

The tadpole writhed. “I’ve held someone, as you saw, but no… It’s hard to let people get close.” She felt the loss of Thomas and the more Gale looked at her, the more he saw her grow defensive, her knees folding up in front of her, her eyes looking away from him. “When you’re alone, it’s not really something that comes up.”

“Alone? And how long exactly had you been alone before our little misadventures?” Her silence was all the answer he needed. If he had believed that a year with only brief contact had been a long time, she had spent even longer with nobody by her side.

"Don’t look at me like that. There's been other people, when I was trading or when I adventured… There’s just not been a lot of touching, that’s all.” Nana composed herself, she wasn’t going to be made to feel shame over something that was her life. 

“But why precisely? Is it because…” He hesitated unsure if he should continue his line of enquiry. “Is it because you are a changeling?”

He could see her discomfort and he wished he had not asked. “Apologies Nana, I should not have been so tactless. You must understand though that all I wish is to help you, to get to know you.” He took her hand in his, showing he meant no harm. He could feel the warmth and when she didn’t move he felt a small wave of relief. 

Nana smiled, comforted by his apology. “No, no it’s fine. But no, it’s not because of that. I guess, I just don’t understand it. When you’ve grown up alone- Well, it doesn’t come naturally. Any touch becomes too much. It feels like all your skin is being shocked, and your mind is on fire. And after Thomas…” She paused, her face darkening as she willed away the memories. “It’s been getting easier though, with Astarion… with you.” She looked down at their fingers entwined with one another and Gale couldn’t help but see the way her eyes softened.

“Astarion? I guess I can understand that. He is quite direct with his advances.” He tried to quell the spark of jealousy. 

“When he kissed me I couldn’t go through with it.” Gale’s face fell upon hearing this and although he tried to be quick about hiding it, she had picked up on it. “It just felt wrong. Not the sensation, but like somehow I was being used in some way. Does that make sense?” 

“He kissed-” He took a deep breath pushing down the sudden irritation. “No, that’s not important at this minute. You rejected his advances I assume?”

She nodded and lowered her knees to be more open with him. “Long ago I felt-” She paused and Gale could feel her hand squeeze his as if she was seeking a type of solace. “When a person is in love, they say there is a warmth, a feeling of safety and longing. That feeling wasn’t there.”

“A kiss does not necessarily have to mean love though, just as a hug certainly does not. Is that what you were expecting to feel?” He looked into her eyes. He had always been that of the hopeless romantic. As much as he wanted to believe his own words, he knew he was not the type to kiss without love, or at least potential love.

She gazed back at him. “I’m not sure. I wasn’t expecting to feel fear though.”

“And, do you fear me?” He hoped that she would say no. That maybe this feeling could blossom, that all their unspoken feelings could be revealed and yet he was also nervous of her answer. That if she said no, it would be something else holding him to this mortal coil, someone else who would eventually realise he was not good enough. 

“No.” She turned her face to his, leaning her body into his chest, and he could feel the heat of her body against his robes. Slowly came the sensation of a soft hand resting on his cheek and he realised that maybe, just maybe, he was falling in love. 

--------------------------------

As she felt the heat radiate from his body she pushed out the thoughts that tried to claim her. Is this really what you want? Is this the right time? He’s going to die. She found herself pushing herself into him, feeling the tenderness of his touch upon hers, the longing in her heart growing. Her body yearned for him and as she gazed into his deep brown eyes, she felt her tadpole connect with his. Just a single thought. Kiss me.

As his lips touched hers the world vanished, nothing but the sensation of the moment mattered. She felt his hand reach to the small of her back and she pulled her hips towards him instinctively. Could it really be this easy? Her tongue entwined with his and she could taste the subtle remnants of wine between them, a reminder of more than just a physical connection. Her hand moved from his cheek to behind his head, her fingers weaving with his hair. She wanted him, she wanted all she had missed out on, she wanted his love and to love him. She could focus on nothing other than him, her human form morphing to that of her natural changeling shape, her long red hair becoming short and white, her skin pale, her eyes colourless. 

Neither of them noticed as the tent flap opened and Astarion stood there in shock and bemusement. “Gale?”

Nana tore herself away quickly from Gale’s embrace, her eyes wide at Astarion as he tried to grasp what he was seeing. She didn’t know what to do. Now her secret was out, now they would all know, and now the hunt would begin. She pushed Gale aside and ran for the exit of the tent.

Astarion dodged out of the way as she ran past, confused at the image he was seeing. “Gale, what in the nine hells was that!?”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 screenshots #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale bg3 #galemance #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #dnd character #changeling #dont want this to end

[amrv-5]

Want 2 gnaw my own arm off I am experiencing Saw trap levels of horror with this paper. Did get a page of formal introduction which also established the Structure of my Rearranging Work done so now I think I’m mostly just going to move stuff around and spackle over the gaps etc etc and maybe delete some of the more bullshit close reading and I can probably get that fully finished today or at least by EOD tomorrow but also. Suffring. Horror. Hell on earth. I hate work and thinking and id like to get paid to lie arounf watching movies and talking about them instead of writing horrid little screeds that cite Freud every 5 mins. Actually everythings fine and even if this paper sucks I think the concept is good and I learned a lot abt comedy theory in process and also grades don’t matter anymore so I’m fine. But also the Dread

#i hate this so bad. i am going to be bitching loudly thru the whole work process I Guess. Sorry

[skinks]

it was so……… lonely being an unfeminine little girl. from as far back as I can remember, aged 3 or 4, I couldn’t explain what it was that made me so viscerally upset and miserable if I was given dolls/jewellery/makeup or reprimanded for being (unknowingly) rowdy and loud and greedy and destructive, or why it made me angry and embarrassed to the point of tears if forced to wear “girls” clothes and ESPECIALLY if I was told by adults that I looked Nice and Pretty as a result of that humiliation. or why I was so defiant and contrary around the subject of boys, crushes etc. That white hot rush of rage and injustice when the teachers ask for help from a big strong boy, meanwhile you’re the current playground arm-wrestling champion. I can do it, I can do what my brother can do, let me join in, I can do it, include me, include me. slugs and snails and puppy dogs tails make a boy - what are you made of when YOU’RE most likely in class to be found up a tree and covered in mud? always praised at your weakest and most exposed, never looked at for the things you’re proud of.

and I didn’t understand why I felt so betrayed and sad when one by one my female friends seemed to metamorphose at the coming of puberty into a form of being that was alien and unthinkable to me, leaving me behind, struggling not to feel like everyone was playing some long con prank. you guys can’t want this, right? you guys can’t be enjoying this, right? you couldn’t just stop being yourself, but everyone around you makes it clear that remaining yourself is unacceptable. why can’t you just, this once, for me, for us, it would make me happy, it won’t be that bad (it was always that bad) you’re going to have to grow up eventually (sobbing meltdown when presented with a training bra)

I remember…. crying privately a lot, so scared. The future feels like a black hole. Imagine if they were fully aware the invasion of the body snatchers was coming. Maybe 9 or 10 or 11 years old I remember being out in the garden bouncing a ball around and crying in fear, with the same thoughts stuck in my head with no resolution: “when I grow up I’ll have to wear dresses and makeup and high heels and people will look at me and they’ll think I agreed to it. I won’t be me any more.” If this was the inevitability of womanhood then you don’t know how to grow up. I gnawed my own leg off at 15 to try to escape the trap and declared I wasn’t a girl at all - which didn’t help, to nobody’s surprise. Enforcing femininity onto little girls is abject denial of personhood. That’s what I couldn’t articulate: that every adult who laughed and told me I’d change my mind eventually, who heaped their gender stereotypes onto me, was ignoring who I was as a person over and over and over again no matter how much I contradicted them. and you’re the only girl you’ve ever heard of or seen or read about who’s like this, in this specific way. it’s so lonely

[tealquacks]

Secret Ingredient

Written for Arcane Halloweek 2022! The prompt is Curse

@fandom-events

Warnings for cannibalism, gore, blood, etc. Read it either here or at Archive of Our Own

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42626889

Enjoy!

Hunger was its own curse. Viktor knew that, his life in Zaun making him well acquainted with the feeling, the gnawing in his gut that refused to be quenched. People had their ways around it. Drinking, chewing mint, and simply ignoring it. Viktor’s family did the same. By the time he’d finally made it to Piltover, hunger was an old, hated friend. No matter what he ate, nothing made him feel full. Back in Zaun, the food must’ve been different, he concluded, thinking about the rare occasions his mother would come home with an armful of fresh, red meat. Pork, by the taste of it. He’d eaten pork in Piltover, though, and it did nothing.

It took years of not feeling full, his health slowly deteriorating, for him to realize what was happening. Looking through his mother’s old letters opened the curtains, exposing the truth. The nights with his family, eating thick stew that stuck to his bones like growing mold were now stained dark red. Viktor brushed his hand over his prominent ribs. He almost wished he didn’t know, that he’d never read those letters. Not knowing would’ve let him die in peace. The meat wasn’t pork.

Cannibalism, it seemed, had a curse attached to it. Another layer to the divine comedy that was Viktor’s life. He couldn't blame his mother, though. He’d never blame her. She was simply doing what she believed would save her family, unaware of whatever consequences eating human meat had. 

Which raised an important question.

His ribs had started looking less prominent. Even as he brushed his fingers over them, there was a thin layer of fat over them. More than he used to have. He felt more energetic than he ever had while in Piltover. His teeth even looked better, strong and sharp. By itself, that fact was strange enough to keep Viktor awake, prodding at his body and wondering what he’d done differently. Maybe the curse he’d read about had lifted. No books mentioned it lifting, though, which worried him.

Even stranger, Jayce had been cooking for him almost every single day. It wasn’t uncommon for Jayce to make meals for him or offer to share his food, but now he showed up to the lab with food every single day. Whenever Viktor asked what he made it with, Jayce smiled.

“The secret ingredient is love.”

Every time Jayce said that, it made his heart flutter and his face flush. It didn’t do anything to sate Viktor’s curiosity. So when Jayce said he was going to be staying late that night, Viktor lingered in front of the closed door, listening in. He heard the shuffle of papers. The scrape of metal. Jayce grunting with effort. Normal noises. Viktor stood by the door, trying to hear inside. There wasn’t anything peculiar. 

That is, until the scent of blood wafted through the door, thick and inviting. Viktor salivated at the scent, hind brain lighting up with hunger. He opened the door, stepping into the lab, and froze. 

Jayce stood in front of the Hexcore, only in his underwear. His back glistened with sweat, the powerful muscles flexing as he raised his arm. Viktor flushed as he took in the scene before him. One arm laid flat on the table. The other held a heavy backed knife in his hand. 

“Jayce!” Viktor exclaimed. 

Jayce flinched and whirled around. Viktor gasped.

Jayce’s arm had been torn up with the knife, a few strips of bloodied meat next to him. He wasn’t bleeding profusely, but his arm still drip, drip, dripped with blood in a way that made Viktor’s stomach rumble. His thick, muscular thigh had a few small slices on it as well, as if he was considering starting to hack it up as well. His handsome face had a few spatters of blood covering it, like little rubies. Viktor stared. 

“Oh my god, Jayce, what are you doing?!?”

Jayce had the audacity to smile nervously at him. He wiped the last bit of blood off his face with his good hand. Viktor gawked at him, shaking all over. 

“I’ll be fine if that’s what you're worried about! I can fix myself up with the hexcore, just like you showed me.”

“Why?”

Jayce flushed. 

“Because, uh, going around with my arm like this would probably worry Sky,” he responded. He said it as plain as ever, as if he wasn’t covered in blood and holding a knife. 

“Aren’t you in pain?”

“I used a local sedative. I’m fine.”

Viktor stepped closer. Jayce stood still with a tiny smile on his face. Like a proud kitten clutching a bird in his teeth. His arm had been stripped of its meat, and from where he’d started carving, it was clear he was intending to start hacking into his thigh for more meat. Viktor salivated at the thought. Meat. Thick slabs of fresh meat. 

He blinked, clearing the thoughts from his mind. He stepped back, overtaken by disgust. 

“I needed to do this, Viktor,” Jayce explained. Viktor huffed.

“That doesn’t excuse the fact you… You’re butchering yourself! as we speak! And— and…” Viktor’s eyes widened slowly, “this wasn’t the first time, was it?

Jayce shook his head slowly. He stepped towards Viktor with a dripping hand extended, as if trying to calm a wounded animal.

“No, I’ll admit that. It wasn’t the first time. The first time was a bit of a mess, honestly. I almost hired someone to do it, but then figured that it would probably end up in the papers. So I… did it myself. I hacked a little bit off. I just took a piece at first. From my stomach. I rendered the fat down and cooked your food with it. The way you lit up, scarfed everything down— I knew I could save you. But man can’t live on fat alone. You needed meat so you could get better, and that’s what I got you. Meat!” Viktor’s eyes traced over Jayce’s bloodied body, then the flesh on the table. He stared at Jayce. His bloodied hand. If he turned his arm right, Viktor would probably catch a glimpse of his ivory bones. He salivated. Wiped his mouth. 

“Jayce, you’ve eaten meals with me. You’ve eaten the same food as me.”

Jayce gave an awkward little laugh. How he managed to look just as charming as usual– hell, even more charming, was beyond him.

“Honestly? It was an accident at first. I’d taste the food before I gave it to you to make sure it was seasoned properly. Then I remembered the whole… meat curse thing. But now? I have to eat at least a little. And I always have access to it. Oh! You can even substitute blood for eggs, so I used it to bake for you.”

“How did you know?”

Jayce laughed softly, rolling his eyes.

“You checked out all those books about cannibalism and curses, Viktor. I’m nice, not stupid.”

“You’re not very kind to yourself,” Viktor snarled.

“This is just temporary, until we can figure out something better.”

Viktor sighed. He looked Jayce up and down. He’d been eating him.

“Why? Why would you hack yourself up?”

Jayce tilted his head. 

“It’s better than killing people, I guess?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Viktor growled, “why would you do this, all of this?”

“I did it for you.”

“What, so I could stick around and keep helping you with Hextech?”

“It’s not just about hextech, Viktor.”

“Then what is it about?”

Jayce flushed. He turned his back on Viktor, and sat down in his chair. His thigh dripped blood in thin, dark rivulets. 

“Ever since you saved me… I was so alone, Viktor. You’re my favorite person. I don’t know where I’d be without you, not just with hextech, but in general. The pain of this doesn’t matter. Losing you would hurt more.”

Viktor’s face softened.

“…Jayce—“

“What I’m trying to say is that I love you, Viktor. That I’m in love with you.”

Viktor’s eyes went wide. 

“I love you too. Which is why I can’t… I…”

“You don’t want to see me in pain. I don’t mind it, Viktor. I really don’t. At least until we can come up with a better solution, I don’t mind having to use the hexcore.”

“Jayce…”

“This isn’t your fault. I did it for you, because I love you and I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to be hungry, Viktor.”

Viktor stared at Jayce. His bleeding arm. All the words he wanted to say, about how Jayce saved him too, how he never knew someone he clicked with like a joint, were smothered with the ravenous urge to bury his face into Jayce. Jayce seemed to notice. He sat up straight in the chair, smiling softly at Viktor. He raised his arm, the bleeding one. Viktor could see the fat and straining muscle. He shook. They’d find another way to get Viktor food, certainly, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy what he had in front of him. Jayce noticed him staring.

“Go ahead, honey. I know you’re hungry.”

Viktor moved without thinking. He crossed the room and almost threw himself into Jayce’s lap. A bit of blood soaked into his pants from the slices in his thigh. Viktor didn’t care. He reverently took Jayce’s arm, the mangled one, in his shaking hands. He trailed his tongue up Jayce’s arm. The taste of blood, thick and rich on his tongue sent a shiver down his spine. His teeth ghosted against Jayce, and he gasped beneath him as Viktor bared his teeth, and bit a chunk out of Jayce’s arm. Jayce let out a pained groan, but all Viktor could focus on was the hot blood and meat filling his mouth, chewing at the flesh so lovingly offered to him. Jayce’s hand settled heavily on his head, fingers running through his hair as Viktor bit and ate his fill. Viktor swallowed heavily, then stared up at Jayce. Jayce looked blissed out, staring down at him.

“Do I have something on my face?” Viktor joked. Jayce laughed breathily. Viktor ghosted his fingers up to Jayce’s throat. Jayce let his head roll back. Viktor pressed his fingers against Jayce’s pulse point. His heart pounded quickly. Viktor moved his hand back, cupping Jayce’s head in his hand. Jayce smiled. He tipped his head back up.

“Enjoying your meal?”

Viktor smiled, dazed.

“Very much so.”

Jayce wrapped his fingers in Viktor’s hair. He stared at his bloody lips. He pressed their lips together. The taste of blood lingered thick between them. Viktor hummed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Jayce. Jayce pulled slightly at his hair, and Viktor bit Jayce’s lip hard enough to bleed, lapping eagerly at the cut, the taste of blood renewed. After what seemed like years, they pulled apart. Viktor felt himself drooling blood down his shirt. He couldn’t bring himself to care, gazing at Jayce like he’d hung all the stars.

“Shit, that was… you taste really good. Is that weird to say?”

Jayce laughed. He knocked their foreheads together.

“I think everything about this is weird, and I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

Viktor hummed.

“The secret ingredient is love,” Jayce whispered. Viktor snorted with laughter. He kissed Jayce again, slow and deep. One day they’d find another way, surely. But for now, all that mattered was the taste of Jayce’s blood in his lips, teeth grazing hungrily at the body of the man he loved. 

Maybe it wasn’t a curse after all.

#arcane #jayce talis #Viktor #Viktor arcane #Jayvik #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw cannibalism #tw self mutilation #arcanehalloweek22 #If theres any more tws i need to add please tell me #ya boy writes

[bareums]

I was someone who only had to survive today. But ever since I met Moon Soo, I began to wonder and wait for tomorrow.

Just Between Lovers (2017)

#rain or shine #just between lovers #won jin a #lee jun ho #junho #kdramadaily #kdramaedit #netflix kdrama #kdrama #korean drama #bareums #my gifs #gnawing my own arm off over them.. etc etc #beneath the sun ☀

[vampdes]

helloooo im back and np btw!

also can i request a fluff/smut steve rogers x male reader x bucky barnes? he/they pronouns for the reader!

soo basically steve and bucky both has a crush on the reader, the reader also has a crush on the both of them. one day, they were training together and they (mostly the reader) just flirting while training together. and somehow that led to a confession. and when they finally finished the training and went to bath, together, it somehow led into sex akahkaj

im shit at explaining im so sorry

and for the kinks or othr info

captain/sir kink, pet names(doll, angel, etc), double penetration, spanking, shower sex, markings

oh yeah, sub bottom reader btw!

im sorry if this is alot and confusing!

also can i be 🗯 anon? and have a nice day/night!

─ 🗯

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; Steve Rogers x M! Reader x Winter Solider/Bucky Barnes

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 ; uh, sex in a hot-tub. yeah? yeah. they're not five feet apart cause they're all gay !!<3

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ; NSFW: p.w.p, double penetration, drugging (aphrodisiac), captain/sir kink, pet names (doll, angel, etc), hot-tub sex, markings

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ; this is SO LONG, IM SORRU :(( but it's in detail nd enjoyable, i promise honey<3 this has a good plot, i actually like it so much<33 ALSO, I COULDNT ADD IMAGES 4 SOME REASON, IM GONNA CRY :((((

The planned '' hot-tub hangout only between us three because if the paparazzi catches us, we'll be in a scandal'' hangout between the three comrades were to commence at around. . right now, actually. [name] gathered his belongs, a towel was hung over his shoulder as he carried a tray filled with pastries from the local bakery that the trio enjoyed very much. The said trio had been flying from country to country on missions to stop Hydra, so why shouldn't they have small time by themselves?

Deep laughs and soothing conversation between the three could be found in the hot, foaming water as they mingled with each other comfortably. Steve's eyes were closed as his arms were rested on the sleek marble around them, '' Yeah right, like you stopped 'em. You were flirting with the doctor there [name]! He was married!'' Bucky explained their mission in (—) with a bright smile on his face as he rested in a comforting position. [name], on the other hand, only sat with his legs ankle-deep in the bubbling water, letting the breeze whiz by as he gnawed on a [f.flavor] cake-pop off of the tray he had bought. '' Awe, c'mon Bucky, you can't tell me he didn't look cute flustered! He looked like a strawberry, so cute!'' [name] gushed, a faint smile on his face as an endless conversation began.

Bubbling laughter filled the calm atmosphere, it was like the three had a red string tied between them, never losing a thread. A sweet, honey-like taste filled [name]'s senses, as he bit into a [f.fruit] roll, the taste wrapped itself around his tongue. The unfamiliar taste unknowingly coursing through his veins. '' Oh my god, what is this?'' He questioned, his sweet tooth now hurting like hell was dancing upon it.

'' What?'' Both of the men inquired, Steve opening his wary blue hues. '' My. . eugh, try this!'' He shoved the sweets in their mouths. A shaky feeling ran throughout [name]'s veins, all aiming for his cock. Bucky and Steve's heart beat rang throughout their ears, their normally baby blue and dark brown eyes becoming glossed over with the feeling of fiery lust, the burning passion soon became the aura in the trio's hangout.

' How did we get in such position?' The inquiry didn't cross [name]'s mind as his face was flushed, his body not being in his own control. '' Hah— Fuck, nngh!'' He cried out, the water plunging inside of him with every one of their combined thrusts. The feeling of [name] being stretched to his full ability was too much of a feeling to not enjoy.

'' You're doin' such a good job, angel. Bein' such a good cock whore for me 'n him, aren't you?'' Bucky spoke sweetly, prodding the tip of his dick at your prostate continuously, making the water slosh around your perky chest. '' Ah, yes! Y-es, Sir, ngh!, I am!'' You cried out, tears streaming down from your [e.color] hues, your face flushed a bright red. Steve's canines stabbed into your neck, erupting a lewd scream from your lips as you clawed as his back. '' Shh, be quiet, doll. Calm down, it's not like we're harming you or anythin'.'' He whispered softly, licking the bleeding wound with his slicky tongue. He elicited a moan from you when he did such a disgraceful action.

Steve seemed so shy and nervous most of the time, it didn't cross your mind that he'd been doing such harmful acts towards your body. The markings, most turning purple after he gruesomely '' nibbled'' on your skin, leaving bite mark surrounding your body, mainly your chest. The mesmerizing thought of pulling a moan from your mouth by just biting, sucking, even sliding his tongue across your perky nipples made his body go at such an animalistic speed your body started going into a numbing state. Bucky, however, didn't like you having all your attention on him. He found such an action as. . favoritism.

'' Wai-! Gah, Ah! Hah! Please! Fffuck!'' Your continous pleads and begs for the two to slow down, stretching your soon-to-be gaping hole more that humanly possible. The animalistic pace the two were going at, being competitive with each other, seeing who can show you the most immense pleasure in a matter of seconds. It was as if you weren't being thrashed around like a doll between the two.

'' Captain! Please, s-low do-wn!'' You begged, tears flourishing down your cheeks as he paid your pleas no mind. He hungrily took you lips in a lustful kiss, sliding his tongue across yours, hot, sticky saliva being mixed. Not even a breath after the intense kissing session with Steve, Bucky captured your lips, as if he was claiming you as his, and only his. Choked sobs of pleasure came from you, your high coming down from your body as your vision become quite blurry. A hot substance was shot inside of you, your stomach feeling warm. They didn't stop; they were going to make sure you knew who you belonged too, no matter the cost.

#♥ — iisakume !! #♡ — requests !! #anons !! #💬 anon !! #steve rogers x male reader #captain america x male reader #steve rogers #marvel x male reader #male reader #x male reader #x male reader smut #male reader smut #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes x male reader #🎟️⎯ saku.writes !!<3

[ynscrazylife]

The Things I do for Love (Kate Bishop x Reader)

Request: “hi! could i make a kate x reader request where reader have to take care of lucky but lost the dog (maybe she leaves the door open?) and kate find out and freaks out but they find lucky very fluffy” by Anon

Summary: Y/N accidentally loses Lucky.

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

Main Masterlist | MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/bevongf

“I have a favor to ask you.”

“Ooh! Wait, lemme get my book.”

“Your boo—huh?”

“I keep track of all the favors you ask of me so I can cash them in one day.”

The pause of silence tells Y/N that Kate is rolling her eyes.

“You don’t have a book.”

“Yes, I do, actually,” she says, and shuffling can be heard as Y/N opens her real book.

“Oh, my god.”

“Let’s see here,” Y/N pauses to flip to a new page, leaning over and grabbing a pen to scrawl out the date. “Okay! What’s the favor, dear?”

Kate scoffs, but smiles at the term of endearment regardless. “I need you to watch Lucky.”

A pause.

“You do know I’m allergic to dogs, right? Do you have a desire to kill me, your girlfriend?!”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“It’s life-threatening!”

“Take your medicine. You’ll be fine. Besides, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t really need you. Clint got tipped off about these evil dudes and he needs me. He actually said that. He never says that!”

Y/N sighs. “Can’t Jack watch him?”

“Out of town.”

The sigh turns into the groan. “Fine. When do you need me?”

“Uh, in like 15 minutes?”

“Oh my god, Kate. Man, the things I do for love.”

“Achoo!”

“You faked that, right? C’mon, you faked that,” Kate said, crossing her arms as she raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend, who was standing in front of her now-open door.

Y/N’s sly grin gave it away. “I couldn’t help it,” she said cheekily, giving Kate a peck on the lips as she waltzed her way into the apartment.

Lucky immediately ran up to her, and while Y/N instinctively leaned back to protect her allergies, she pet him regardless.

“Well, you two kids have fun. I gotta run — oh, hey, that rhymes!” Kate said, jogging over to the couch to grab her bow and arrows. As she passed her girlfriend, she wrapped her arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into a quick hug.

“I won’t be long!” Kate called as she headed towards the door.

Laughing because she knew that couldn’t be true, Y/N continued to pet Lucky. “Alright, love you!” She called back.

“Love you too!” Was the last thing Y/N heard before the door shut and locked behind the archer.

“Okay, Lucks, it’s just you and me,” Y/N murmured to the dog, who was wagging his tail happily. Y/N knelt on the ground, avoiding Lucky’s licks while playing with his floppy ears.

“You know, I wonder why Kate can’t just leave you alone—” she said, cutting herself off as she watched Lucky suddenly bolt, skidding to a halt at an empty pizza box, where he began pawing at it and gnawing at it — barking, too. “—Oh.”

“Lucky!” She whined, quickly following the dog and gently pulling him back from the box. He immediately turned around and, with a lot of energy, pushed Y/N down so she was on her back. He practically had a smile on his face as he licked her all over her face excitedly.

“Oh, no. Oh, lord,” Y/N said, trying in vain to get away from his licks while simultaneously grunting from his paws pounding into her chest and torso.

Her loud, uncontrollable sneeze became the thing to scare him off. Y/N took a deep breath, feeling the weight being lifted off of herself. “Wonderful. It’s started,” she muttered.

Deciding to rest on the floor for a couple minutes, she drifted out of the “zone” she had fallen into when she heard Lucky whimper. Looking over, she watched him scamper over to the door and paw at it relentlessly.

Sneezing again, Y/N picked some dog fur that he had shed from her shirt. “Alright, just gimme a sec,” she said, pulling herself up and to her feet. She grabbed the allergy medicine from her bag and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. Placing the pills on her tongue, she swallowed it with the water and cleaned up before grabbing Lucky’s leash.

Once she had it hooked to his collar, she grabbed her purse and opened the door. Once they were out, he practically yanked her in the direction of the elevator, giving Y/N little time to actually make sure the door was locked. Hiding a sigh, she thought to herself about how lucky Kate was — she was punny, wasn’t she? — and how she couldn’t wait to use this as an excuse to keep Kate from going on her nightly patrols.

About ten minutes into their walk and it was going alright. Lucky had stopped to pee once, thankfully for Y/N hadn’t gone number two, but he did pause at every little thing to sniff at it. And when he saw a dog? Well, the smaller ones he was just happy to see, but he barked at a bigger one. The only real snag was when his leash and another dog’s leash got tangled, and Y/N and the other person choreographed a strange dance to untangle them. She apologized profoundly and continued on.

But then — the universe decided to be a bitch. At the precise moment that Lucky saw a squirrel slinking around a tree, Y/N had to sneeze. In hindsight, he was too excited, and she was too distracted. Barking, he broke off in a run, tugging at the leash, catching Y/N off guard as she paused to turn and cover her sneeze. She lost her grip on the leash and Lucky was granted his freedom, darting after the squirrel. The squirrel — who had been minding his own business with a couple acorns stuffed in his mouth — saw Lucky and ran.

With it all happening so fast, it took Y/N a moment to realize that the leash was no longer in her hand and the golden blob she saw was the dog she was supposed to be walking. Her eyes widening, she broke off into a run, calling Lucky’s name and praying for him to stop.

Alas, he didn’t. Y/N did her best to keep eyes on him while avoiding the strangers going about their own days, but it wasn’t easy. She knocked into multiple people and ignored the rude comments that were thrown her way.

It wasn’t until she full-on collied with someone that she was literally knocked off her path. Having just gone from seeing ahead of herself to now looking at the pavement, her head whirled as dizziness passed over her. The sound of the person hastily apologizing and going about their day was muffled in her ears. By the time the dizziness passed and Y/N got her bearings, she looked up to see Lucky nowhere.

Which promptly sent her down another spiral.

Not even realizing that her flesh peeled with scrapes and blood, Y/N stumbled to her feet and set off in the last direction she had seen him. She called his name at the top of her lungs, the repeating words coming out as strangled cries. People gave her odd looks as they passed, but she paid them no mind. Nothing else concerned her but finding this dog, as she recalled how distraught Kate would be if Lucky was lost. She couldn’t bare to see her girlfriend sad and knowing that it was her fault? Nausea hiked up her throat at the image.

She searched for a good thirty minutes until she figured she should head back to Kate’s apartment. After-all, what if he got bored of the squirrel and came back there? He may be a pizza dog but he was smart . . . Kind of. Upon her arrival, she brushed away the doorman’s concern and plopped herself in a seat in the lobby. She didn’t know how long she sat there, staring out the windows with a sliver of hope, until the doorman told her that her phone was ringing.

Scrambling to retrieve it, she almost considered hanging up when she saw Kate was calling. But, knowing that that wasn’t an option, she picked up the phone. “H-hello?” She said.

Kate, oblivious to the nervous stutter, greeted her with: “Hey! The mission ended up being a lot quicker than we expected. I’m heading back home now, I hope you guys had fun!”

That was it. Hearing the brunette’s cherry voice and knowing that her happiness was soon to be crushed, Y/N broke down in sobs. She struggled to breath through it, and that resulted in half-tears, half-wheezes.

“Y/N? Y/N, what’s wrong?” Kate said, her tone immediately changing. Picking up the worry only made Y/N cry harder, and on the other side of the phone Kate did her best to remain patient. She waited it out with Y/N until she was able to form coherent words and sentences.

“I’m — so — sorry! I — didn’t — mean to! I-I lost Lucky. I sneezed and he saw a squirrel and ran and I lost my grip and I ran after him but I couldn’t find him so I came back to see if he came back but he didn’t and—and—” she gasped.

The brief pause of silence felt like a knife stabbing her. In those 15 seconds, Y/N’s fears practically exploded. She curled in on herself, turning away from the doorman, seeking the tiniest bit of privacy. (Thankfully, he had enough tact to pretend that he was busy.)

“Oh-okay. It’s not your fault, Y/N. I’ll find him. Just stay there in case he comes back, like you said,” Kate’s voice finally came after what felt like an agonizing eternity. Her words were slow, still recovering from the shock of the news.

Y/N couldn’t explain why, but now she just felt worse. She wasn’t sure what she expected Kate to say, and figured that any reaction would have resulted in the guilt weighing on her like it did now. “Alright. Alright. I love you. I’m sorry.”

Kate returned the “I love you”, but it was clear that she wasn’t paying too much attention. Y/N let her hang up and still kept the phone pressed to her ear, even when she heard the dial tone.

When she heard Lucky’s barks 20 minutes later, Y/N nearly fell off her seat. Her head whipped up, a grin breaking out as she allowed the dog to run at her and jump on her, covering her face with slobbery licks. She sneezed a couple times from it, but didn’t mind at all.

“I’m so happy you found him,” she said, tears springing into her eyes. She looked up to see Kate, standing in front of her a little disheveled but otherwise fine, wearing a huge grin. Y/N opened her mouth to continue her seemingly endless apologies, but was interrupted.

“Before you say anything, it’s fine. Really. I know you didn’t mean to lose him,” Kate said, cupping Y/N’s chin and tilting her head up so she could give her girlfriend a much-needed kiss.

Pulling back, Kate — for the first time — took in Y/N’s appearance. Her eyes widened when she saw the cuts and dried blood and she knelt down in front of Y/N. “Babe, what happened?!”

Following Kate’s gaze, Y/N blinked in surprise when she saw her hands and torn knees. “Oh. I guess it must have happened when I fell. Someone bumped into me when I was running after Lucky — Or I bumped into them,” she said, doing her best to recall the event.

“You poor thing,” Kate murmured, peppermint kisses on all of the cuts. Y/N’s face heated up with blushes. “The two of you have had a long day, huh?” She paused to scratch Lucky behind his ear. “Let’s get you guys upstairs.”

Feeling calm now, Y/N stood up and walked alongside Kate and Lucky to the elevators. Within minutes, they were inside Kate’s apartment. Kate unhooked the leash from Lucky’s dollar and urged Y/N to go relax, which she latter had no problem doing. She sat down on the couch, watching her girlfriend retrieve a mini first aid kit from her bathroom’s cabinet.

“I don’t think this is necessary,” Y/N commented through a giggle as Kate sat down next to her and pulled out alcohol wipes and bandaids.

“Nonsense, it could get infected,” Kate argued cheekily, smirking as she rubbed Y/N’s cuts with the wipes and then slapped bandaids over them. “There we go. All better.”

Thanking Kate, Y/N let herself lean back against the pillows. “Once again, I’m sorry,” she apologized, her eyes drifting over to where Lucky was playing with a toy on the floor. As if he could understand them, he stopped and climbed onto the couch, making himself comfortable behind Y/N’s head. Y/N hesitated for a moment before she leaned her head against Lucky’s fur, allowing herself to relax.

“Once again, it’s fine,” Kate replied, a little mockingly but all in good fun. She pat Y/N’s knee as they shared a smile.

“How was the mission?” Y/N asked, sniffing a bit from the allergies.

“It was easy, but fun. It was nice to kick some guys’ butts again,” Kate answered, recalling her fights with a proud smile. Hearing Y/N sniffle, she pouted, scooting closer to her girlfriend. “Did you take your allergy medicine?”

“Earlier I did, yeah. It’s okay, Kate. My allergies will get used to him,” Y/N said nonchalantly.

Kate hummed in slight disagreement but decided not to press the matter. “Thank you for taking care of him today,” she said.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “But I—”

“Thank you. What you said before — about the things you do for love — it was right. You’re amazing,” Kate interrupted, leaning forward to kiss Y/N (partly doing so before she could argue).

Smiling, Y/N kissed back, cupping Kate’s cheek in her hand and enjoying the peacefulness and the happiness that radiated endlessly between them.

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#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop #kate bishop fic #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop angst #kate bishop hawkeye #mcu requests #mcu reader insert #marvel request #marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #marvel self insert #mcu #marvel #marvel fluff #mcu fluff #mcu fic #mcu writing #marvel writing #hawkeye kate bishop #kate x reader #kate x y/n #kate x you #kate imagine #marvel kate bishop #kate bishop marvel

[eisforeidolon]

At first, I thought that maybe the confession scene was romantic, but now after having watched some interviews with J2 it just seems like Misha said it was romantic to get attention. On rewatch, I also noticed that Cas is not really written as being in love with Dean in s15, even the Bobo episodes don't really feel that way. The writers seemed to write them as friends who don't get a long very well in season 15.

I think that's one of the fundamental underlying issues with a romantic interpretation - there is zero actual buildup in the canon to justify it.

The shippers who argue that there is? Are basing that not on anything which demonstrably happened in the show, but on their own years-in-the-making collection of very elaborate speculative reinterpretations of cherry-picked scenes pointedly removed from their context. In the cases where the interpretations aren't absurd on their face when you put them back in their original context? In the cases where it's not just regurgitating toxic masculinity and gross homophobic stereotypes as proof of sexuality and sexual interest? In the cases where there's even any there there to interpret beyond ascribing hidden meaning to actors making eye contact in a dramatic moment or characters who are frequently absent continuing to be frequently absent? It's still just one possible interpretation of many, where there is usually at least one that fits the established characters and ongoing story much more obviously than some kind of deeply (Earth's mantle subterranean deeply) hidden romance. Yet they present the whole mountain of questionable self-made scribbles as if it's some clear, indisputable storyline intentionally added by the writers - it's the real focus of Supernatural!

Which it's clearly not to anyone just watching the canon without a predetermined agenda. Even in season 15, when Misha and Berens had apparently already decided from the start to end on that confession? Dean and Cas mostly just fight about Jack. That's not fighting like an old married couple, that's just fighting. There's nothing inherently romantic to it.

Which it's clearly not to anyone who has listened to all of the people who aren't Misha who have very clearly said it's not over the years - Jensen, Jared, Bob Singer, etc. Hell, even Castiel's Spanish voice actor didn't see that scene as romantic because of the entire context of their previous relationship as brothers-in-arms.

My opinion on the scene has remained pretty steady. I think the intention from Misha and Bobo the Clown was shippers would be able to see it as romantic while everyone else would read it as just another familial dying ILU from Castiel like the one in 12.12 because he is a weird, awkward non-human. Without knowing the context of the fandom containing all these "Here's my 15k essay on why the number of times Dean blinks in scene X of episode Y shows he's totes in love with Castiel!" fans, the only context for that scene is a relationship of over a decade that never had any canon romantic implications. The writers know there's a lot of different factions in the fandom including shippers, and this leaves room for all of them to headcanon whatever they want in terms of that relationship, so everybody'll be happy, right?

The obvious problem with that being you'd have to be an absolutely monumental fucking idiot to not realize by season fifteen that throwing the destihellers a bone was tantamount to inviting them to gnaw your whole damn leg off and keep going. They built their own storyline up in their heads and anything short of the ending of the show focusing on their ship and validating that it was the real central story all along wasn't going to be good enough. They didn't want their ship to be possible, they wanted their ship to be undeniable: they wanted to win. Writing in such a way as to make a romantic interpretation possible in a half-assed ambiguous way was just enough validation mixed with insecurity to encourage them to keep acting like ridiculous entitled assholes calling everyone who doesn't agree with their One True Romantic Interpretation homophobic. I've said this before, but I still mean it: I hope Berens unexpectedly steps on Legos in the dark on a regular basis for the rest of his life.

#destihellers #that scene #askboxery #anonymous #anti misha #anti berens

[silversatoru]

Hello! I wanted to request for a chubby reader x Levi oneshot. I feel like there aren’t many stories that have chubby readers ): As for the storyline, I’m not sure if it falls in the angst or hurt/comfort category. It would be the reader feeling insecure about themselves because they have a harder time training than the others (them blaming it on their own weight) and seeing how everyone is much thinner than them, they start avoiding food. To not make it look suspicious, they’d go into the kitchen alone and put the food away along with the left overs. The reader would act normal with Levi and he doesn’t suspect anything at first. Later on, the reader would push themselves harder to the point where they’d train on their own whenever they had to chance so they can lose weight and improve their training. At this point, Levi starts noticing the reader looking paler than usual and the slight difference in their weight. One day during training, the reader ends up fainting from exhaustion and dehydration. They wake up on Levis’s bed with him looking over them. He asks what happened and the reader lies by saying they didn’t drink enough water. Levi calls it bs and ask if they think he’s stupid and goes on to tell them about how they noticed the reader sneaking off into the kitchen with a plate and coming out without it. He didn’t think anything of it at first, but he started putting the pieces together. They end up telling Levi the truth, the way they feel towards themself and how they don’t like the fact that they’re bigger than Levi. He comforts the reader and lets them know that they’re an idiot for thinking that way, etc. Thank you! I’m so sorry if it sounds so cheesy!

hello dear!! i dont think your idea was cheesy at all, i love it actually. these kind of issues live very close to my heart, so writing about them is always really fun for me. that being said,, this fic definitely got very dark and very real, and i would advise everyone to read the warnings before deciding to read this <33

empty

levi ackerman x gn!reader

synopsis: levi catches you skipping meals and does what he can to help

tags/warnings: eating disorder, skipping meals, hurt/comfort, but it does have a happy ending! 

word count: 2.2k 

Throbbing headaches and hollow, gnawing pains in your stomach — they’ve quickly become your new normal. You see everything through a hazy fog these days, nothing feels real and everything hurts but it’s worth it — that’s what you keep saying to yourself. You’re tired of lacking the same agility, momentum, and grace that your thinner counterparts have. 

Your weight was always something that ate away at the back of your head, but joining the scout regiment multiplied it tenfold. You were constantly working twice as hard as your fellow scouts, and it seemed like it was never enough. Everyone around you was not only ridiculously athletic, but so fucking thin. You didn’t hate your comrades for their bodies and the way they were born, but you made up for it by inflicting all of the hate onto yourself.

You wonder if anyone notices your zombie eyes or the abnormal paleness to your face — god, you hope they don’t. The last thing you want to do is have to confront your feelings and admit what you’ve been doing lately. Every night you shamefully sneak back into the kitchen and pour your plate of food into the large pot of leftovers. You pick at food here and there when your friends are watching, but behind closed doors you haven’t eaten much of anything lately. Your body is running on empty, and it’s only a matter of time before it fully catches up to you. 

You hear your last name echo from across the training fields, slowly turning around to see an angry captain sulking towards you. His face was twisted into an unpleasant grimace, his eyebrows knitted together into what almost looked like concern. 

“I’m excusing you from the remainder of training, leave,” his words were flat, but there was a subtle emotional edge. 

“Sorry, what?” you gave him a confused look — Captain Levi never excused anyone from training, not unless they were practically on their deathbed. 

“Go home, and eat a big dinner tonight, your energy has been less than adequate lately,” his face softened slightly, “I expect you to be back to normal by tomorrow. Your skills and abilities are needed here, so go get some rest and be better tomorrow, yeah?”

“But, I-,” you stammered, trying to come up with some kind of valid excuse. 

“That’s an order, cadet”. 

His words surprised you, and before you could even rack your brain for an appropriate way to respond, he was turned on his heels and walking away. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and stuffed full with anxiety. 

Reluctantly, you followed his orders and made your way back to the Scout’s base early. You grabbed a stack of fresh clothing from your room before heading to the showers and scrubbing yourself free of all the sweat and grime from training. You were careful to avoid mirrors when you navigated bathrooms, and tonight was no exception, your eyes glued to the tiled floor. After showering, you hesitantly walked to the kitchen, preparing a plate of food and bringing it back to your room.

That food stared you in the eyes for hours, taunting you and teasing you and making intense nausea creep up your spine.  Tears were stinging the backs of your eyes and your lungs were shaking with heavy, anxiety-filled breaths. You couldn't do it, and you were overwhelmed with shame and guilt. If you couldn’t do it for Levi, you were hopeless that you’d be able to do it for anyone, never mind for yourself. 

After making countless pitiful attempts to take a bite of your untouched meal, you decided it was going back into the leftover pot — just like everything else. The other scouts should have returned and been sleeping by now anyway, you’d just silently creep down the hallway, dump the food, and creep back, no harm no foul. 

Except for that a certain short, dark-haired captain was standing at the end of the hallway — you didn't notice him, but he certainly noticed you. A boiling anger rippled up inside him as he felt an overwhelming disappointment in your actions. He’d been suspecting this kind of behavior for a while now, but watching you tip-toe down the hall and into the kitchen with an uneaten plate of food confirmed all of his suspicions. 

You could barely crawl out of bed the next morning, your ribs aching and your head pounding with a dull pain. You grasped at your tall dresser, catching your balance as you dangerously swayed back and forth for a few seconds. After regaining consciousness and stability you carefully changed into your uniform, having to stop and take breaks every few seconds because you were running out of breath. Your body felt utterly devoid of any kind of energy, and you wondered — when was the last time I actually ate something? 

It was far enough back that you couldn’t quite remember, maybe a few days at this point, you really weren’t sure anymore. You’d have to suck it up for training though, because the last thing you wanted was to be confronted by the captain again. 

You chugged back a full glass of water before lacing up your boots and throwing on a convincing facade. People don’t seem to notice something is wrong as long as you're smiling, laughing, and going along with what they say — it’s easy enough to fly under the radar of your fellow scouts. 

Levi’s radar is a little sharper though, and he keeps a close eye on you from the second you walk up to the training grounds. He’s disappointed in your hand to hand combat — it’s sloppy, slow, predictable. Your hands look shaky too, and maybe it's the light playing tricks on him but it looks like the color is draining from your face. 

Things are feeling deplorable on your side — you can barely stand anymore, never mind throw punches or avoid the oncoming attacks. Your vision was starting to tunnel, foggy black surrounding your periphery as you began to lose feeling in your fingertips. You tried desperately to cling onto whatever semblance of consciousness you had left, but failed miserably, your body collapsing to the hard earth beneath you. 

The soft glow of warm candles illuminated the walls around you when you finally woke up from the earlier incident. This wasn’t your room, where the hell were you? You uncomfortably shifted to the side and flinched when you saw your captain sitting in a chair in front of you. His arms were crossed and one of his legs was propped on top of the other, an icey look in his eyes.

“What happened today?” His words were very short and his tone was flooded with irritation — he didn’t even give you a chance to take in your surroundings.

“Ah- I didn’t sleep well last night,” you lied, “And maybe I haven’t been drinking enough water or something”. 

“I’m offended that you think I would fall for such a pitiful lie,” He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, “I saw you sneak into the kitchen last night, how long have you been doing that?” 

Your eyes grew wide with anxiety, your heart abruptly dropping to the floor — you made sure to go extra late last night, why the hell was he still up?

You stayed quiet for a moment, pondering over how honest you should be with Levi right now. The two of you had always been a little closer than he was with the other scouts, but unfortunately there was no room for things like love in this world. You also assumed that maybe he never reciprocated your feelings because of your weight — but that was just more toxic fuel to the fire blossoming in your head. 

“Pretty long,” you sighed, ultimately deciding to be fully honest with him, because knowing Levi, he’d continue to see right through your lies anyway. 

“I figured,” He grumbled, uncrossing his legs and leaning back into his chair, “Why?” 

“Everyone around me is thin, I stick out. And, I’m not as agile or flexible as the other scouts either. I just thought that maybe...,” you bit down hard on your bottom lip, rolling onto your back so you wouldn’t have to look at him, “I thought my weight bothered you too, and also that I’d be more useful to the scouts if I was skinnier”. 

“You think I’d like you better if you were dead?” Levi was leaning closer now, heat boiling in his eyes, “Because that’s where you’re headed right now. If you truly think you’ll be more helpful to the scouts when you’re six feet under, you’re delusional. And who the hell gave you the idea that your weight bothered me?”

His harsh words were cold slap in the face, your eyes burning and threatening to spill over with tears. You didn’t want to die, not really, you just didn’t want to hate yourself anymore. 

“No one! I don’t know, I just thought, maybe because I was bigger than you-,” You continued to stammer over your words, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he waved you off, not wanting to push the issue further, “You’re wrong, and I’m hurt that you’d even think that. I’ve never once thought that you were anything other than the way you should be”.

“I’m sorry,” your voice was weak and shaky, but your heart was pounding against your chest at his words. 

“I’m not the person you should be apologizing to, that’s something you owe to yourself” he shook his head and stood up to retrieve two small bowls of food from a nearby table, “I brought you something to eat”.

You watched him intently, pondering over his words about apologizing to yourself.

“It’s only a bowl of soup, so you can start small, yeah?” He offered one of the bowls to you, which you hesitantly took into your hands as you sat up. 

He sat down again across from you again, leaning back and taking a sip of broth from his bowl. You were grateful that he was here, that he was eating with you — it made things a little easier. You grasped the spoon in your hands and scooped up some brothy vegetables before lifting them into your mouth. 

“Good, finish the bowl,” nodded at you, giving you a reassuring look and lifting his own bowl to his lips again. 

The two of you ate in silence until you were finished, and then he sat the bowls back on his nightstand before finding a seat next to you on his bed. 

“Stay here tonight,” he stared at you with his signature tired eyes, but there were hints of concern laced through them now, “We’ll have breakfast together in the morning”. 

“Okay,” you gave him a weak nod, trying desperately to bottle up your growing emotions, but they were becoming too much to bear. 

Small sobs began to rack through your body, your chest tightening and your stomach lurching with anxiety. You were experiencing so many feelings tonight — eating for the first time in days and being here with Levi, it was overwhelming to say the least. 

You could barely see the captain through your blurry vision, but you could feel his arms maneuver themselves around you and pull you against his chest. You stayed like that for a while, Levi’s arms delicately holding you in place while quiet sobs worked their way out of your lips. 

“You’ve dug yourself into a deep hole, I won’t lie to you,” you heard him let out a tired sigh, “And it’s gonna take time and effort for you to dig your way out, but you’ll get there. We’ll start by having breakfast and dinner together every night, how does that sound? Just you and me, no one else has to watch”. 

You nuzzled a tiny nod into his chest, your tears finally running dry. It was a terrifying thought, eating normal again, but you were starting to feel hopeful that you might actually be able to do it. 

And so the two of you met every morning and every evening for your scheduled meals, and day by day things began to get easier. You even found yourself staying over in Levi’s room after dinner and into the morning for breakfast sometimes. Spending so much time together was definitely pushing the two of you to address the feelings you’d been hiding for so long. 

But not everything was perfect, it would be irrational to think it would be. You still have bad nights, where eating is so hard you break down into tears, and where you want nothing more than to rid yourself of the food in your system. It’s a draining process, but Levi works hard to make sure you stay on track with your progress. 

It’s slow, but eventually your face starts to glow again, your skin gets smooth and soft, and the aching pains in your body start to fade. Your war with your body is far from over, but you’re doing what you can, and you’re healing yourself one day at a time.

thank u for reading this, and now i would like to give you a gentle reminder to do something nice for your body today. eating disorders and mental illnesses are huge mountains to climb over, but taking things one day at a time makes it a little easier. try and eat a meal today (even if it’s small), go to sleep early and get some rest, take a shower and rub lotion all over your legs so they feel nice against your blankets when you lay in bed. baby steps are better than no steps at all, so be patient with yourself. n go drink some water, ur body loves that shit

#attack on titan #attack on titan levi #attack on titan x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi x gn!reader #hurt/comfort #angst #levi hurt comfort #attack on titan x gn!reader

[onelovewonderwoman]

first class || charles xavier x reader

i’ve been on an x-men binge and fell into a hole of james mcavoy and charles xavier again, so here we are. i haven’t written fics in a long time, so i tried to again. i’m uncreative so like the title is just the first movie because of the fact that it’s set during that time. kind of like self insert cause there’s a few bits and pieces where there’s canonical plot and interactions, so disclaimer for that. anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ps also don’t have enough energy to find a fitting gif so maybe i’ll find one later maybe i won’t. we’ll see

words: 5.8k

warnings: not proofread (i spent three days on this so i don’t have the energy anymore haha), writing lacks emotional depth, drug use and mentions, intent of murder, thoughts of (murder, rape, suicide, etc.), poorly written two paragraphs about kissing, angst, we ignore moira and charles’ romance cause... duh, it’s x reader and it’s too difficult for me to work around it rn a haha

masterlist

The rooms were always the same. They were dark, illuminated only by the dimmest of lights emanating from the occasional lava lamp or fairy lights. Fairy - ironic word for such situations, such rooms. Filled so heavily with smoke it made it hard to breathe, let alone see. And the floors; the floors always felt different. 

In hindsight, it was probably the one thing that had her realizing the rooms were never actually the same. Sure, they had the same smell, the same overcrowdedness and moving bodies, the same darkness, even the same taste, but the floors testified to the difference each room held. 

Sometimes, when the world would freeze and all the people around her became nothing but a mesh of warm bodies, she could hear the floor creak under her feet with every step she took. There she was - the house right down the street from her. 

Other times, the floors felt sticky under her shoes. She assumed it was tequila. There were always too many bottles around to count, surely there would be spills. Or, some poor guy could have pissed himself like that one time. When her shoes sounded like velcro as she walked across the floor, she was at the house all the way across town.

In any case, she felt the same ankle up. One of her favourite parts had to be the way the music always abused her ears - so high, it made her feel lightheaded. More so than she already had been both. Sex was not nearly regular enough for her to compare, but she knew what she would feel every time the music was loud enough to make her head buzz and throb with a vengeance was more erotic than anything anyone could ever do to her.

The place could change but the scene never really did. Down to the people - she knew this for sure. She knew every beating heart around her like they were her own. She never only felt it there, but in her head as well. Even as it buzzed, she felt it. Sometimes it tore at her skull as if trying to escape - ironic.

Now, why did the scene change one evening in 1962? She told herself it was fate, but it had merely been wishful thinking when she knew why. How did she know? She knew the man sitting next to her on the worn down couch, nearly entirely unconscious and reeking of weed and vodka, knew the girl across the house, the girl across the house knew the man next to her and that - so on and so forth - meant she knew all three of them, even though they didn’t know her. So, for two new men to walk into the house, their eyes focused - focused on her - changed the scene entirely.

Now, the music became nothing more than an assault on her ears; the lights became too bright at the same time as the dark became too dark; the air became heavier than usual; and she sobered up at the feeling of something - someone - in her head. Then, it all caved in. It was as overwhelming as it always was, but she was used to it enough to handle it for a little while, at least whilst remnants of her high remained. She couldn’t say the same for the shorter of the two men she saw keel over at the pressure.

He got over it pretty quick, from what she could tell. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced himself as, “This is my colleague, Erik Lensherr.”

A quick trip from the couch to the door had her standing on the lawn of the house of the night with the two men. Crickets could be heard fighting against the sound of the music blaring from the house as she swayed on her feet, making wet sounds in the grass from earlier rain. Charles stood not much taller than her, charm emanating from him and the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to smile despite his furrowed brows and mouth set in a straight line as he stared at her, waiting for a response with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. Erik stood taller, stoic and calculating.

“And?” She crossed her arms across her chest, both in discomfort and the fact that the chilly night air had begun to bite at her skin, her long sleeve doing nothing to help. “I should care why?”

If the incident earlier wasn’t enough, the way the both of them looked at her was enough for her to know why. “What’s your name?” Charles asked, having her notice then the English accent on his tongue. 

The second she gave it to him, he smiled - almost sympathetically - at her and hummed, “You have an incredibly busy mind, Y/N.”

“And you have an incredibly nosy one, Charles.” That had Erik letting out a chuckle, one that felt like approval to her ears.

Never in a million years would she dare say yes to anything of the sort the two men proposed to her that night. A team of mutants; not necessarily that she thought it was absurd or a horrible idea - no. It made sense, not factoring in their current climate, to have a team of mutants fighting against the evils of the world. The horrible idea was to have her join. No, she wanted to tell them, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too,” Erik agreed with her, catching both herself and Charles off guard, “We’ll be going then.”

He offered her his hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at his outstretched arm. Sometimes her high slowed time - it could have been five seconds or five minutes. When she finally looked away from his hand, up at him, she saw he stood unwavered and patient.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Her eyes shot to Charles as he broke the silence. He shook his head, brows still furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “You’re under no obligation.”

For Charles to know, she understood. He had just been in her mind long enough to know that most of it wasn’t even hers. For Erik to know and offer her his hand made her wonder just how desperate he was to assemble the team - for whatever reason that she was about to find out in a moment.

“We leave now.” Was all he said after he tore his hand from hers.

An hour hasn’t even passed when she found herself on a plane with the two men, mind still buzzing but this time not with a high. This time, with an overwhelming anger and anticipation. The way Erik didn’t make eye contact with her and Charles sent worried glances her way throughout their trip to their “base” was enough to tell her that they knew she had already been briefed on what was happening - the reason behind their assembling of a team. Rather, she knew specifically of the personal motive behind it.

All it made her heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute. It pounded against her chest so hard she was sure at least one of them could hear it. So badly did she want to hide out in the plane’s bathroom and take something to stop the pain, but it was off the table. For now.

Soon enough the flight ended, and she came to find out their “base” was a covert CIA facility where they placed the other mutants they rounded up before her. She just as quickly met and said goodbye to Moira MacTaggert, a CIA officer working with Charles and Erik to stop Shaw. His name alone sent sparks of rage flowing through her veins.

She was left with the group when the three went off that night. There, she came face to face with Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, Darwin, and Angel - or, Mystique, Banshee, and Havok. Darwin and Angel were “self explanatory”, considering they were already nicknames and described their powers fairly well. Hank was just… Hank.

Her turn came around quickly, once everyone settled down from Alex’s show of his “gift”, when all heads turned to her, sitting at the end of the couch. Raven smiled at her - she liked her, she was sweet - “What about you? What’s your power?”

“I’m,” She paused for a moment, the eyes on her making her anxious and curl into herself hoping, praying, another mutant wouldn’t touch her. “I can move things. With my mind.” She gave a tight smile to Raven and nodded her head, as if to reassure herself. “I can move things with my mind.”

Raven’s smile only widened, excited by either the prospect of her being able to move things with her mind or the opportunity to give her an alias. She assumed it was the latter. She excused herself to the washroom just as Raven asked the group what they thought. “We’ll have one for you once you get back! Promise!” Raven called after her.

Body filled with anticipation, she nearly ran to the washroom, willing the door closed behind her after she entered. It was small, but clean - CIA property after all. 

She tried. She really did. Albeit, making contact with a mutant was always the worst; Erik especially. The trauma, the pain, the thoughts. All them clawed at her brain, as though they were tearing through it layer by layer until nothing but them remained within her skull.

Nothing could stop her from taking out the small baggy in her back pocket and tearing it open. Nothing could stop her from taking it, only to feel a rush flow through her. It would take a bit, but soon enough she would stop feeling them gnawing on her very existence. Soon, numbness would wash over her and she could just be no one.

She guessed she was in the washroom for about half an hour. Staring at her reflection, at the floor, at the ceiling, at anything, but when she made her way back to the room, she found it in disarray. Music was blasting from the radio, chairs flipped over, Raven on top of the couch dancing as Hank hung from the ceiling light, the rest of the group messing around with their powers. She couldn’t tell if they were experiencing some high of their own or just happened to have gotten their hands on some alcohol.

“What are you doing? Who destroyed the statue?” Moira’s voice broke her out of the trance she was in watching the group. Slowly, she turned her head to see her, Charles, and Erik walking over as everyone else froze. Moira was angry, that much anyone could tell, but the two men were unreadable.

Hank was the first one to reply back, jumping down the ceiling, panicked, “It was Alex.”

“No. Havok.” Raven seemed to stay unfazed, still standing on the couch with a wide smile on her face. “We have to call him Havok. That's his name now…”

Raven’s words melted away from her. Her focus wasn’t elsewhere; it was simply nowhere at all. She stared at everyone in the room, yet no one at all. So caught up in nothing she didn’t notice Charles himself staring at her until Erik uttered something under his breath and walked away with Moira following, brows furrowed in what looked to be confusion. Just as she caught his eye, he looked away.

Directed at Raven, he spoke firmly, “I expect more from you.”

Not long after, they had gotten word that Shaw would be in Russia, and so she was left with the group of mutants when the three left alongside the CIA to get their hands on him. Before, it would have made her wonder what purpose the group of mutants really served if they didn’t want them there to help. Now, after the incident, she understood why.

By no means were any of them prepared for such a task. She couldn’t claim to be either. She only agreed because she knew a part within her would hate her for not coming and at the very least trying to help.

Just when she thought she and the solemn group couldn’t be any more of a liability, she was proven wrong. Because now Sebastian Shaw stood in front of them, smug and irritating as ever, after having his lackey drop an unsuspecting CIA to his death in front of all of them and cornering them. 

“Good evening. My name's Sebastian Shaw, and I'm not here to hurt you.” She was sure she wasn’t the only one assuming he had taken out every single CIA operative in the facility to make it this far; a thought that filled her being with even more dread than she was already feeling at the sight of him. “My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition, you are against us. So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you. Or you can join me, and love like kings and queens.”

They all watched, both shocked and betrayed when Angel took the hand Shaw outstretched, standing by his side even when he murdered Darwin in his attempt to stop him with Alex. She didn’t see it - she turned away the second Shaw released the energy he’d taken from Alex into Darwin. She heard it, though. The explosion. When she turned back, as Shaw, Angel, and the men he had brought with him retreated, she saw nothing. There was no sign of Darwin; not even a speck of dust.

Suddenly, her chest tightened and the clawing came back.

----------------------------------

The person who happened to almost send them home also happened to be the one who provided them a new place to train their powers for the fight with Shaw. Charles was entirely serious and extremely close to sending them all home; “They’re just kids.” But Erik made it clear to him that they couldn’t be anymore, not after Shaw.

Charles lived, alongside Raven, in a massive mansion that had been entirely too big for her to take in, but it provided the perfect space for them to train their powers. Each of them were assigned rooms by Charles personally that day. 

He took the liberty of walking them each there. She didn’t know if it was just her or a Charles thing, but he stayed quiet. Unusual for a man that had so much to say. But then again, with what they’ve already been through, she couldn’t imagine he was feeling very chatty. She certainly wouldn’t have been in his situation. Granted, she would be feeling the same way now, but in her predicament by this point, she wouldn’t mind someone else’s verbal company.

The second he guided her through the bedroom

door, she began to take in the sheer size of the room, feeling bigger than life itself in the way that she was feeling. The bed was even better; huge and looked as though the softness of it would swallow her into a warm hug. Her first instinct would have been to jump right onto it, but the fact that Charles ceased to leave and instead remained planted there, giving her a look she couldn’t make out once she turned to face him, made her fight against her urges.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to utter an “Are you alright?” but never got the chance. Instead, Charles spoke as soon as her mouth opened, slowly, as if to make sure she understood every word he was saying like she had been incapable of doing so before, “Training starts tonight, but I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

With her brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded, and Charles began to walk away. He stopped by the frame of the door, back to her, and spoke again, “Try and get some rest.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Now, she was left in the room alone, tiredness washing over her. Awaiting the next day, she decided to fall into the cloud that was the bed and fall asleep while she could.

----------------------------------

The next morning was when Charles asked to see her - by Raven. The young woman led her over to a room, an odd dome shaped one, where Charles stood waiting. He wasn’t the same as the night before - uncomfortable, was the only way she knew to describe it - welcoming and encouraging.

“We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Charles spoke, hands in his pockets, as she entered and Raven excused herself elsewhere. Looking around, she could see evidence that training had started last night, namely Alex’s. Dark scuff marks were streaked across walls of the dome on the end farthest from them and small balls of fluff on the floor remained, assumingly left behind in the midst of a quick clean up of training dummies that had been torn open.

Despite the mess, several other objects were placed across the floor. All ranged from light to heavy. Chairs, weights - it looked to be anything he could have been capable of carrying in with the help of the others.

She stopped in front of him. “What’s this?”

The man’s smile widened before he started, rather loudly at that. “Well.” He moved towards the objects then spun around to face her, arms outstretched. “This is the beginning of your training.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the man unimpressed. “You want me to move this stuff around?”

“You’re not just moving stuff around.” Charles shook his head, arms dropping to his sides as he declared. “You don’t need to move everything here. I only need to see how much you can handle.” His head tilted as he looked at her, blue eyes meeting her own as his expression retreated to one of curiosity. “And how you handle it.”

She didn’t think the professor was aware of the innuendo within the situation, so she let it go despite the sweet stomach dropping feeling that came over her. Instead, she shrugged. “Then what?”

“Then,” Charles hesitated for a moment, “Erik was able to move a satellite dish. If it happens to be possible-”

“A satellite dish?” She laughed incredulously, “You can be serious.”

Charles nodded towards her, challenging her statements as he took a few steps forward. “And what is it that’s making you believe you’re incapable of doing anything similar?”

“Look.” She shook her head, looking directly at him when she said, “I can move the average household item, shut a door and maybe, just maybe, bust it down, but I couldn’t push your couch across the room, let alone move a fu- a satellite dish.”

Charles’ brows furrowed. “And that’s what you believe?”

She hummed. “That’s what I know.”

“Well,” he sighed, disappointment written across his face that sent her into a spiral, “There’s not much we can do if you don’t believe you can better yourself, is there?”

The second he walked past her was when it felt as though ice water had been spilt onto her. A mixture of confusion and gloom washed over her before she turned to see Charles’ back, still moving towards the door. “What?”

He stopped in his tracks at her exclamation, waiting several moments as if contemplating before he turned back to her. Carefully, he asked, “Why do you take them?”

She shook her head, looking almost offended. “How did you-”

“Your mind,” Charles confirmed, “It gets quieter.”

The offence on her face never ceased, but the uncomfortable mixture of feelings she was overwhelmed with had her shrug in response to his question. Charles only nodded and gave her a tight smile before turning back.

She closed her eyes, resigning herself with huff. She could go back to the life she had come to know and hate, or she could take the second chance he was giving her even if it did include the prospect of some suffering.

“I don’t take them for fun.” The sound of her voice made Charles stop again. This time, he waited. “When I touch a person I don’t just take every experience. I take every memory.”

He turned around to face her once more and gave her nod, signalling her to continue. She breathed in and out. “I see and I feel everything that’s happened to them. That’s a lot and it’s enough, but that’s not why I-”

She cut herself off, feeling herself choke on the words before shaking her head and persisting herself on despite Charles’ look of concern. “I take them because, when I take their memories, I take all of their thoughts too. Every one. So every thought of murder, or rape, or suicide, or any fucked up thing, keeps tearing me apart from the inside out.”

Charles nodded, walking closer to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, sympathy written deep in his soft voice, “And they scare you.”

She shook her head. Looking away from him for a moment, she willed away tears she felt gathering. She turned back to him. “The thought of acting on them scares me.”

Although slightly taken aback by the revelation, Charles holds his composure. He nodded before opening his mouth to respond, walking closer as he began.

The only reaction he got was her taking a step back, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not a bad person.” Charles assumed she didn’t want him touching her - considering she took away every thought. “I’m always all these people at once - I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then we will figure it out.” Charles tilted his head, making sure her eyes met his when she attempted to look away. His voice was soft and reassuring to her ears, even if she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “You aren’t alone, Y/N.”

As it turns, the drugs were having a large effect on her ability to use her powers - the next few days told her as much. By no means was she capable of moving a satellite dish, but she had been able to take her powers to lengths she never thought she could have been able to.

Most of it was due to Charles - he’d spent most of the next few days with her, pushing her, sometimes to the point where she’d snap at him. She always calmed, though, and Charles always remained coolheaded.

Still, they grew closer. Or at least she grew closer to him. She couldn’t tell if the praise, the laughs, the banter, and the willingness to come back together after a fight only meant something to her. She hoped it did - because why else wouldn’t he just give up on her? All that time spent on advancing her powers to defeat Shaw, and he still talked about helping her as though their relationship would continue past this mission.

Part of her wanted to touch him so she could just know. Even if he hadn’t taken such a liking to her as she had him, at the very least try to understand him in his entirety and make a space for herself in his life. Then, another part of her was horrified at what she would find in there.

For the time being, there wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on it. The day they would head out was coming soon, and Erik suggested the group get a good night’s rest. They would all need it.

With her luck, she didn’t know why she thought that sleep would come easy that night. Whether it was due to adrenaline, anxiety, or anything else, didn’t matter. Because whatever was keeping her up had her pacing the hallways of Charles’ estate that night.

She wasn’t looking for it, but instead happened upon a conversation. 

“… no difference. Shaw’s declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped.” She heard Charles’ voice through a door as she passed by. Although knowing that he could probably make out the sound of her mind from a mile away, she still stopped by it. She grew even more curious when she heard Erik’s voice. 

“I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?” A moment of silence passed and she shifted on her feet. It made the floor creek. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, nervous, expecting to hear the sound of one of their footsteps coming to open the door and catch her eavesdropping. Whether they heard or not, she didn’t know as Erik continued on, “You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred.”

“Not if we stop a war,” Charles’ voice wavered on a line of urgency and assurance, “Not if we can prevent Shaw. Not if we risk our lives doing so.”

Charles very well could have been doing nothing but reassuring Erik with his words, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually trying to reassure himself. As if the world wouldn’t either discard or abuse them once they’ve served their purpose of their betterment. 

“Will they do the same for us?”

“We have it in us to be the better men.”

“We already are.” Erik’s voice quickly turned from calm to urgent when he next spoke. “We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself!”

“No, no!” She heard Charles attempt to cut Erik off before he sighed. She could practically hear the disappointment in it, although she couldn’t say she felt the same. He only let Erik continue.

“Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?” She heard him pause. “Or is it arrogance?”

“I’m sorry?” As if Charles had misheard him. 

She shifted on her feet once more as their voices became more hushed, despite the feeling coming from the room becoming more hostile than calm. This time, she was more careful. Nothing made a sound below her feet when she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against it, as well as her left palm for support.

“After tomorrow, they're gonna turn us. But you're blind to it, because you believe they're all like Moira.” 

“And you believe they're all like Shaw.” Came Charles’ immediate response. Calmly, she heard him continue, “Listen to me very carefully my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik’s voice never wavered when he told Charles, “Peace was never an option.”

Footsteps came far too fast for her to move away from the door. In a split second, she found herself leaning against the door to crashing into Erik’s chest when he pulled the door open. For a moment, Erik stood staring down at her, watching her attempt to recompose herself and attempt to apologize. She didn’t get a word out before he moved past her and walked away.

She watched his form retreat before she turned back to the room. Standing in the doorway, she saw Charles sitting in the chair facing away from her. With his eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “You realize I can hear your mind from across this house?”

She took a step in, almost reluctantly. She didn’t imagine Charles would be content with anything she had to say, but maybe she could make him understand. “Erik’s right, you know.”

Her words had Charles’ eyes snap open. He got out the chair, setting down the drink he was nursing on the table next to him, before he turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Peace isn’t an option ‘cause we’re never gonna get peace.” She shook her head, desperation in both her voice and eyes as she stared into his. “Erik thinks they’re gonna turn on us. They might not, but it doesn’t mean any of us will get any peace. They won’t all be like Shaw, they won’t all be like Moira, but most of them - most of them will just be human. They’ll fear us and they’ll judge us. It doesn’t matter how harmless we are or not.”

She watched as Charles took a step forward, his head tilting to the side, expression unreadable as his voice remained calm. “You can’t be serious.” It was a statement - a wrong one.

“Shaw needs to die,” She spoke with assurance. She felt her eyes fill with tears, Charles watching her suck in a breath and release as he began to walk closer to her, before she spoke in a whisper, no longer trusting her voice, “Shaw needs to die for what he did to us. We’re going to kill him, Charles.”

They’re faces we’re merely inches apart, chilling her to the bone as he looked at her. What she thought he would never do is what he tried the second he began to raise his hand, speaking quickly to her when he asked, “Us?”

His hand almost cupped her cheek when she turned her head away from it. Immediately, his hand froze. Charles watched her profile as more tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. Voice weak and tearful, staring away from him, she pleaded, “Please don’t confuse me. I can’t-”

“I know you feel it,” Charles’ other hand came up to guide her face back to him despite her, whispering carefully, “But it is not your cross to bear.”

His hand was warm against her cheek. Comforting - enough to make her mind go blank. Wishful thinking, of course, because soon the clawing in her head would come back with a vengeance at having a man such as Charles touch her. For now, though, he felt safe. Stable. Enough so that she could close her eyes for a moment and let the tears fall as he leaned down to her and let his forehead press against hers. 

“You can’t help but feel his pain,” She felt his breath against her lips as he spoke, his voice the same soft and soothing as she’s known it to be, “But you can decide what you do with it.”

She shook her head gently and pulled away, but still letting Charles’ hand rest against her cheek. “It’s not just-” she whispered to him, mouth feeling dry as her eyes avoided his, trying to piece her thoughts together. His hand slid down to the base of her neck, guiding her eyes to his. She licked her lips before she swallowed. “I barely knew Darwin, but he killed him right in front of us. And it was cruel and scary and I couldn’t even make myself look at it when it happened.”

“I know.” Charles brought his other hand up to brush away slow falling tears she hadn’t even known began to escape. He voiced nothing but concern, letting her continue as if he knew what she was going to say next. 

Her hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, not to pull his hands away from her, but to simply hold onto them. Almost as if they were an anchor to make up for the tears she now felt were falling faster down her face as she realized. “For the first time, I think I want something, I feel this anger and fear, because of my head. I saw it first and I felt it first. It’s mine, and now I have a real responsibility to take care of it.”

“Not with murder.” Her hands tightened around his wrists as he brought her face closer to his own. A frown on his face as he desperately told her, “I meant it when I told you that we would figure this out together. You told me you were never your own person, that you don’t even know yourself. We were - we are - going to bring you into existence. I beg you, Y/N, don’t let yourself be brought into this world as a murderer.”

His words, as beautiful as they were, only half registered within her brain. All she found herself focusing on then was how close he was. She would think back later and come to realize that it was because the only thing making her tears stop and giving her the will not to commit a murder was the prospect of approval she would get from a man like him. From someone who could never understand her struggle, someone who never tried to or tried to make her feel as though there was some way out. From someone who wanted to build on it and show her the strength she could find within it.

Realistically, she knew he would have a few words for her if she ever outwardly admitted to him that she used approval as a means for bettering herself, but it was the best she could do at the time being.

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched her face, spaced out and regarding him with an expression not even he could read. Somewhere deep down, though, he knew he had gotten through to her. His lips curled up slightly, speaking lowly with amusement evident in his voice, “Now where did you go?”

Her eyes shot from his lips to his eyes once more. As quick as they made eye contact, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. Lips soft, she kissed him carefully, one hand moving to cup his face. Only in the last few moments did he respond to it by kissing back.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously and letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. Her mouth was dry again. “I’m sorry-”

She was cut off by Charles’ lips on hers once more. She kissed back instantly, sighing into the kiss in content. Feeling Charles smirk against her lips and deepen the kiss, she put both hands behind his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulling slightly as he let his hands trail down her body to her waist, pulling her to make sure there wasn’t the slightest gap between their bodies.

Their lips broke apart, but only long enough to allow for a quick breath. Charles pushed his lips back into hers as her hands snaked down to the collar of his dress shirt, playing carefully with the top button.

Eventually, their lips broke apart as they caught their breath. Bodies still pressed together, Charles leant forward to rest his forehead onto hers, her eyes still close, for a moment before pressing a kiss to it. He placed his chin on top of her head and rested there, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she felt him - anticipating what it would feel like to feel nothing but him. 

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