#like he was so close to choosing to heal and let love into his stupid little heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jake-g-lockley · 1 year

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Only for You (Steven Grant x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, popping someone’s cherry, dirty language, swearing.

Word count: 3.8k worth of filth and fluff, yay

A/N: I wanna lay on his chest fr (also his fucking hands just-) I’m fucking sorry but I just realized that I have never written Steven Grant smut, holy shit. Here it is, soft, first-time sex with Steven <3

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. “Don’t laugh Steven! I'm not scared of sex, I’m just saying that there are other things that I want in a relationship too.” you pout, elbowing Steven square in the stomach.

“It's not like I know how good sex is anyway.” You grumble as Steven chuckled.

You and Steven were curled up on the couch, a forgotten movie playing softly on your laptop. Your head was settled comfortably on his chest, a fluffy blanket over the both of you. If anyone had walked into Steven’s flat then, they would see the picture of your perfect version of a couple.

Except, well, you and Steven weren’t together.

You and him had been watching a movie when a particularly sexy scene came about and you moved to bury your face into Steven’s chest in embarrassment. Part of you had just wanted to stay there, all warm and comfortable but Steven had started to laugh, and is now prodding you slightly about your abstinence from the act of fornication.

He also had been nagging you about how you ditched your Tinder date to instead come to Steven’s flat bearing gifts of wine and chocolates.

“What are the other things you’d want then?” your best friend pushed on, sitting up slightly to close the laptop and place it on the coffee table before gazing down at you.

You shrunk slightly under his gaze, suddenly feeling shy.

Despite being the sweetest human being on the planet, sometimes when he was really into a conversation, Steven would have a sparkle in his eyes that made you feel slightly intoxicated. The first time that happened, you were surprised with the way your body reacted to him, in a fluid way, as if it was totally in tune with the nature that he had presented to you.

Forget sex. You had never been in a romantic relationship. In fact, Steven’s probably the first person in this big blue world who has been this close to you. You cherished him and held him oh so close to your heart, but that made you fall so incredibly hard for him.

But Steven was older, more mature and probably had more experience than you could ever uncover. Why would he want someone as inexperienced and young as you?

Instead you choose to avoid his eyes, staring at your hands that fisted the fluffy blanket.

“You’d think it's stupid.” you mumbled.

“Now, love, I never in a million years would think that. Come on, let's hear it then.” he urged, his hand finding yours for comfort.

You hold his hand in both of yours by his fingers, his hand comically bigger than yours. The weight of his hand in yours was reassuring and safe. You found yourself tracing his life line as you stared into space.

“I’d want them to dance with me in the rain even if both of us have two left feet. I’d want to go on long walks with them and talk about the stupidest things in the world. I’d want to hold their hand and run errands. I’d want them to sing me soft, made up songs, or read me poetry. I’d want them to make me smile even during my darkest days. I’d want them to just hold me in their arms and whisper sweet fluffy things. I’d want them to be my safe place, my comfort person. I’d want someone who can heal me, Steven.” your voice breaking a little when you got to the end of your list.

The both of you sat in silence for a while. You turned your focus entirely to the beat of Steven’s heart and the way his body was pressed to yours. You continued to toy with his fingers, brushing your thumb over a small scar over and over. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t want him to fulfill all that you had just said.

“Is that too much to ask for, or am I going to end up being an eternal virgin, eternally alone?” you laughed a little as you said it.

“Would you like me to try?” Steven whispered suddenly, the words spilling out of him in one breath.

At that very moment, you froze. You felt as if the world ceased to exist at the sound of his words.

Steven took a deep breath before continuing.

“You have already given me the opportunity to know you, in the best way possible, as your best friend. Darling, I’ll let you step on my feet while we dance in the rain. I’ll be your book of stupid facts while we walk around London aimlessly. I’ll never let go of your hand and I’ll sing you songs of my love for you and read you poetry about your pure beauty. I’ll make sure that beautiful smile doesn’t leave your face and I’m not a doctor, but I swear to you, on my life, that I’ll do my best to heal you.” He says as his free hand lightly runs up and down your arm.

“And I hate to be so frank, but I’m already holding you in my arms and I’m trying my best to whisper sweet things to you. Besides, if you didn’t feel safe, I doubt you’d still be slotted next to me holding my hand in yours.” He simply stated, as if he was proving a point.

You didn’t realize you were breathing rapidly until your eyes caught the movement of your chest. You licked your lips, attempting to say something back to Steven.

“Fuck.” was all that you managed instead.

“I could do that very well too if you like.” Steven said without missing a beat.

“YOU COCKY BASTARD!” You wriggled away from him and laughed, sitting up slightly to watch as a smile bloomed on his rosy face.

“You’d do that for me?” you whispered, the second the laughter died down.

“I’ll do anything for you, only for you.” He reassured as his eyes searched yours, bringing a hand up to cup your face. “I want to be the constant in your life, so, my darling, would you like me to try?”

“Yes, please.” You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand, before feeling yourself pulled close to him.

Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself staring into dark orbs that you had constantly found yourself lost in on a daily basis.

“Can I kiss you and show you how hard I’ll try then?” Steven whispered, his eyes drowning you in his own sanctuary.

“Yes, Steven.” was the last thing you heard yourself say before you lost yourself in him.

Steven’s lips were soft and forgiving against yours as your mind scrambled to comprehend that you were having your first kiss. Your hand shook as you tried to find purchase, settling to grab Steven’s t-shirt. His nose slotted perfectly against yours and you could smell his aftershave and feel his stubble against your skin.

You could tell Steven was trying hard to take it slow but as you straddle his lap, he brought his hand to your hip to push you further into him. The friction made you gasp, allowing Steven to lick into your mouth, creating a symphony of sounds from the both of you.

The both of you stopped for air, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from him, choosing to breathe the air that he heavily breathed out.

“How was that?” Steven asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears.

“For my first? I couldn’t have asked for more.” you hissed slightly as Steven still kept an iron grip on your hip to push you against him, feeling the dynamic shift between the two of you.

You kissed Steven with all your last might and you could hear and feel a deep groan erupt from him as you pressed yourself against him, the wine you had edging you on. He kissed you back with equal fervor, as if he couldn’t get enough of you by the second. You ran your hands through his curls tugging them slightly causing him to whimper. You pressed yourself down on him, hard, realizing that you relished in the sound he made when you tugged on his hair. You could feel him, hard against you and a part of you felt absolutely victorious but the other part that was unsure slowly started to win over.

“I’ve never done this before, Steven.” you whisper as Steven moans, and you could tell that he was holding back from rutting his hips against you.

“That’s alright, love. Do you want to stop?” Steven says with a worried tone in his voice.

You gazed at Steven, at the state that you had put him in. His curls were astray and his lips were parted. Lust had blown his pupils wide open and you swear you could see a galaxy in them from your vantage point.

“No, I don’t want to stop. Not with you. Could you show me?” you plead.

“Let's take things slow,” Steven soothed you, slowly lifting you off him and laying you on your back. “I’m going to eat you out, love, but I need you to promise me that you’ll stop me if it gets too much for you.” he said while his large fingers hooked the waistband of the sweats that you stole from him.

Your face burned furiously at his words, not expecting the forwardness. You wanted to cross your legs and pull away but this was Steven. Your Steven. He would keep you safe.

“I promise.” You whispered back, your heart thumping in your chest.

Steven kissed your inner thigh, pushing your thighs apart to reveal your clothed cunt as you propped yourself onto your elbows to watch him make a mess of you. Your legs hung limp on either side of him, and you felt like a rag doll, absolutely powerless.

He started lightly marking your inner thighs, his tongue soothing out the evidence of his ministrations everytime your moans got a little too out of control. You swirl your hips, not content that your cunt wasn’t getting what it had been initially promised. Feeling a little bolder, your hands flew to his curls as you tried to direct him to what you really needed.

You felt yourself go dizzy as Steven’s fingers suddenly pushed your panties to the side, feeling your already dripping slit.

“Gods, you’re already so wet for me, darling. Such a shame that no one else will get to see how pretty this pussy is now that it's mine.” he mumbled as he trained his eyes to your core.

Blood rushed simultaneously to your face and clit, making you cry out loud at Steven’s lewd commentary.

“Steven, I-” you try saying but you choke on your words as he catches you off guard by pushing a digit into you, pumping it in and out at a slow pace, a vulgar squelching sound reaching your ears. He curls the finger without a hint of sorrow, hitting that one special spot that makes your legs turn into pure jelly, enlisting a shaky moan from you.

“You feel so soft, my love.” he says almost darkly, taking the finger out of you and inserting it into his mouth, eyes not leaving yours and your eyes widen, taking in every square inch of what you were seeing in front of you.

He lowers his head to you until his nose brushes harshly against your clit, sending a shock through your body. Your back arches back as you bring his face closer to you by his hair. Steven didn’t seem to be bothered by the way you were literally suffocating him, instead he lapped a broad stroke along your slit, tasting your juices straight from its source. Your knee jerk reaction to the pleasure you were having was to clamp your thighs together, but Steven was faster than you, holding your thighs open with light pressure, as he pushed his tongue inside you. You felt like you were drowning in a pool of delight as Steven continued to absolutely devour you.

“So much for going slow, Mr. Grant.” You thought as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

You loved it. Nothing you’ve tried on yourself has felt anything like this. You could tell Steven was studying the pattern of your pleasure, choosing to change tactics when your moans were more hollow and sticking to what he was doing when you wailed and pushed yourself against him. His name rolled off your tongue like a prayer more than a plea and Steven relished the way you spoke it under the change of circumstance.

“Bloody hell, baby, keep saying my name like that. Make everyone know that I’m yours.” Steven groaned into your core as he paused for a breath.

Without meeting much resistance, he pushes two thick fingers into you, covering your clit with his mouth and starts to pump at a steady pace. You brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your cries of pleasure, only for the hand to be pulled back down by Steven. The steady stimulation of his tongue instantly pushes you up and over your breaking point. You felt yourself clench around his fingers as his tongue runs soothing circles around your clit.

“Gods, I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You like that, angel? Trust me, you’re going to like my cock more.” he says, directing his filthy words into your cunt.

You came with his name echoing in your screams, your body convulsing uncontrollably as Steven helped you to ride out your high. After cleaning out the remnants of the first orgasm that he gave you with his tongue, Steven kissed your thighs softly as you bathed in its afterglow. Your eyes focused on his face, a shy smile encapsulating his wet lips as a soft shade of pink danced over his cheeks and nose.

“That was amazing, Steven. Thank you.” You stretched your arms out for him and he obliged, letting you grab him by the t-shirt and pull him down for a kiss as you wrapped your legs around his torso.

You pulled him further down with your legs so that his body was flush to you, only to have his clothed bulge grind into your sensitive clit making you gasp.

“Shit! Sorry, love!” Steven groaned as he tried to pull himself off you.

You were having none of it. You kept him down and grinded upwards, grinning at the look that passed his face.

“Are you sure, darling? I just don’t want you to be overwhelmed.” he breathed as you ducked your head into the crook of his neck to kiss him.

He smelled like sandalwood and papyrus, twisting your brain with a desire you never knew you had in you.

“I know you’ll be gentle, I can take it.” you said clearly, wanting him to realize that you wanted to see and feel his pleasure too.

Steven searched your eyes only to have you stare back, full of silent determination, before cradling you close to him and lifting you up as he stood from the couch, as if you weighed like a sack of potatoes. Steven’s strength never failed to surprise you. You remembered the time he helped you move into your new apartment, how he lifted several heavy boxes at once without breaking a sweat.

He settled you down on his bed softly, and you knew from that moment on that he was dead set on being gentle with you. He smoothed your hair on the pillow and kissed your forehead before sitting down beside you.

“Can I take your top off, darling?” he asked, his large palm kneading your hip as you smiled up at him.

“Yes, please, bra too.” you said as Steven raised his eyebrows at your shy demand.

He did as he was told and wasted no time in absolutely worshiping you.

“You’re fucking beautiful. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Steven groaned, letting his hands roam your bare body as his eyes sparkled like a teenage boy.

His mouth and tongue traced patterns on your skin that made you start whimpering. You could feel your arousal grow between your legs again as Steven captured one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked softly, releasing them with a pop, only to knead at your breast with his large hands.

“Need you inside me.” you breathed as he sucked soft hickeys onto your skin, hickeys that only he could have an access to.

He moaned at your words and looked at you with hooded eyes, before proceeding to take off his clothes one by one. Your eyes widened as Steven pulled his boxers off and grabbed a hold of his length. You’ve obviously watched porn before and you’ve never seen a more beautiful cock in your life. He looked absolutely perfect to you, soft trimmed curls boarding the hilt of his long and girthy length with a pink head that was leaking pre-cum.

Your breathing quickened as you watched him pump himself a few times before rolling a condom on. Kneeling in front of you, he grabbed the bottle of lube from his bedside and coated his palm before stroking himself again.

“Steven, you’re a god.” you heard yourself saying as you scanned his body that was literally sculpted to perfection.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t say that, I’m not gonna fucking last with your words.” He says as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, catching your clit and making you throw your head back against the pillow.

“In, now.” you punctuated as Steven tried to take his time with you.

With the help of the lube and your slick, Steven slid inside of you with relative ease, shocking you and himself with how fast he bottomed out. There was a sharp pain as Steven stretched you out, followed by the sweet sensation of pleasure that made you whimper with ecstasy. You had never felt this full in your life and Steven’s cock was pressing deliciously in all of the spots you had never thought you had. His hands held you down with bruising strength, allowing you to adjust to his length, and only started moving when you started to grind your hips impatiently.

He showered you with praises as he moved with slow fluid movement, his hand inching towards you for you to grab onto. Instead of lacing your fingers together with him, Steven pulled your hand towards him and pressed it gently at the lower part of your belly. You moaned at the feeling of his cock inside of you, the tip bulging through your skin. He pressed down slightly harder, getting off at the feeling of your hand massaging his cock from the outside.

“Steven, you’re too good to me. Feels so good.” you slur as he pushed on slightly harder and deeper.

Tears started to flow from your eyes as your free hand gripped at Steven’s biceps, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin as he started to speed up his thrusts. His hand on your belly leaves yours, only for his fingertips to end up on your clit, the action causing you to shake. From the extra stimulation and the way his cock speared you, your second release came faster than your first, blinding you yet again with its powerful waves.

You could feel Steven’s movements start to stutter the second you came, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his release. He folded his body over yours and with a few more solid thrusts to your cunt, he groaned into your neck as he spilled thick ropes of cum into the condom.

It took the both of you a few minutes of heavy breathing to gather your thoughts. Steven came to his senses first, slowly pulling himself out of you before taking off the condom and discarding it. He then slowly stroked your hair as your breathing became more labored before taking a bottle of geranium oil from his bedside and dripping it all over your spent body.

You smiled at Steven as he massaged the fragrant oil into your skin. He focused on the points of your body that were sure to be sore tomorrow and silently pressed out all of the tension you had in you. Your body felt warm and you had a buzz running through you as if you had just ran a marathon. He massaged a silent thanks into you with every squeeze of his hand and you just laid there and stared at the man before you, wondering what kind of miracle had allowed you to get to this point. You looked past him and squinted into his apartment, giggling slightly at where your underwear had ended up.

“Hmm, am I really that funny, baby?” Steven said before following your line of sight and gasping at the sight of your underwear draped ungracefully over Gus’s fish tank.

“Oops, sorry Gus, mate.” He said sheepishly, his face turning red. “It's alright, darling, he won’t remember it.”

Steven flipped you over gently and started massaging your back, pulling small hisses and moans out of you. He kneads your lower back with his knuckles, providing you with stronger precision that knocks the wind out of your lungs with pleasure as you sink further into the mattress. He skims over the globes of your ass, making you giggle again. Flipping you onto your back, Steven pulls you into his lap as he settles himself against the headboard, covering the both of you up with a blanket to provide you with some privacy. You cuddle close to him, feeling safe in the small cocoon that he had created.

“Do you always end … it with a massage?” you asked suddenly, the question creeping up into your fluffy thoughts.

“No, actually.” Steven says, sitting up a little. “This was the first. I remember how you would say that massages were your favourites and that you would get a weekly massage if you had some disposable income.”

You blink up at him, realizing that he had been listening to you all along. Your heart swelled with the awareness that you had found your perfect man way before you had even comprehended it.

“Thank you, Steven. I love you.” you say before you could stop yourself as an unknown emotion settled upon Steven’s face.

Horror pulsed through you, your cock-dumb brain still too foggy for you to think anything coherent.

“Shit, sorry, I mean we only just had sex a few minutes ago. This is so uncool-” you stutter before Steven places a finger to your lips.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Steven says, genuinely as a chuckle reverberates through him and into your heart.

You calmed down immediately with his confession, your face blazing as you kissed him, finally feeling at ease with everything around you.

“Told you I can fuck really well.”

“FUCK OFF, STEVEN!”

Tagging: @romanarose @mintpurplemnm

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*

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etfrin · 6 months

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god okayokay

reader is dewey and gale's daughter and apart of the "core 5" (reader, mindy, chad, tara and sam) and dated amber freeman in the past. though has severe ptsd from what had happened a year ago (and the fact that reader saw her dad die and almost died with him, if it wasnt for the fact that they managed to stable her) and reader killed amber to avenge her father thinking by killing amber brutally would make up for dewey. thought if she hunted down her father's killer, she'd feel better.

present time, she's living with chad and ethan in their dorm. her and ethan are in a relatively healthy relationship, but she never opened up about amber or what exactly happened back in woodsboro because she wasnt ready. in fact, he never even seen her without a shirt on (because of the scars from amber and richie), but once he walked in at the wrong time while she was changing in complete accident (since they share a room) and he apologizes PROFUSELY but he cant help but stare. hes not even disgusted hes just kind of mesmerized by her. she gets insecure abt them and he lays her down and asks her abt them, how she got them. some scars were actually from stupid little things like slipping on a skateboard while carrying around a knife in a sheath that wasnt secured all the way so reader started carrying around switchblades after that (which she used to kill amber.) but he cant help but kiss them and tell her abt how beautiful she looks with them. so im just saying switch virgin! ethan and switch experienced reader (lost her v card to quinn first staying there but its a brief thing and isnt mentioned after that) just really soft sex between the two, ethan being a caring bf and after, realizes hes fucked up because hes genuinely fallen heads over heels for the girl he should hate. he knows he cant kill her, so now he doesnt know whats more important; avenging richie or being with the one he loves. choosing between his family, or choosing a life he wouldn't have with anyone else with someone that he loves more than life itself.

may had of gone overboard but im in love w this whole idea

↳❝Scars | Ethan Landry❞ˎˊ-

Warning - NSFW | p in v sex, fingering (f. receiving), creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), loss of virginity (Ethan), mentions of murder, scars and Ghostfaces. | lmk if I forgot anything!

| masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

A/N: okay so this was supposed to be a drabble then it was suddenly 1.6k words (don't ask me what happened), I hope whichever one of you requested this likes it, I TRIED I PROMISE and here's the link to request!

virgin! Ethan Landry x female! Reader

Ethan didn't ask about the scars for a week.

He didn't act any different despite seeing the ugly healed-up wounds all over your skin. Despite some of them being from playing around, most were from your fight with the Ghostfaces.

You thought he would be disgusted when he first saw them, the one second before he had closed his eyes, but there was no visible disgust on his face. Only concern.

And he had apologized so much that you practically pitied him.

Even now that you were on his lap, your lips tangled with his in a heated kiss. His hand on your nape, another hand on your hip. He hadn't ventured far yet, being as respectful as he could be.

All the while you felt yourself getting needy for his touch. After another heated kiss, you pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Ethan's face was flushed with a crimson red, breathless from the kiss.

The hand on your hip went near the hem of your shirt and you felt yourself tense. "Can I?" He asked softly. You give him a nod, anticipating this time, he would feel disgusted. That he would leave you heartbroken.

He took off the shirt, his breath caught in his chest as your scars came into view.

The gashes were all over your skin. White healed tissue tinged with pink. "How?" He lets out a choked whisper. "Would you mind telling me how?" He said, again, his eyes looking into your so tenderly with no hint of disdain.

Taking in a deep breath, you nod and begin to tell your story, everything from your father dying and you killing Amber to get revenge, for the wounds you got from the fight. Everything.

"I know they aren't the prettiest to look at," you whispered, "I know I understand if you don't want to stay with m-" "Don't even finish that sentence," Ethan interrupted.

"Don't," he said in a firm tone, making you look up at him. His eyes were filled with tears even if they didn't fall, he pulled you in for a hug. "You went through so much," he whispered, his voice filled with emotions, filled with care and love.

"Let me take care of you, they're not pretty but they're a part of you and I love these scars just as much as I love you." He said you felt yourself nearly getting to tears as well from his words but held yourself back.

"Okay," you whispered, "Take care of me."

And that's how you end up under him, bare for his lips to kiss all over your scarred skin. You let out encouraging purrs as his kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone. A small cut was there due to negligence while handling knives. He licked the edges of the scar. You sighed as he continued to worship your body.

He finally reached your torso, and a huge gash was there. He had stopped kissing your skin now, staring at the pinkish tissue that was a huge contrast against your skin.

'Now,' you thought to yourself, 'He's gonna realize that you're just not worth it, not with all the baggage and the scars on your skin that come with it.'

"I wish I could kill them," he whispered, his lips brushing against the scar. His words made you melt because it was tinged with truth. There was no doubt in his mind that he would kill them if he had the chance.

He pressed wet kisses onto the scar, making you let out a small sigh. He then crawled on top of you again. His voice was filled with nerves as he whispered, "I have never done this before."

You cup his face with both of your hands and pressed a small kiss on his forehead. "I have," you whispered, you had lost your virginity to Quinn so you were at least aware of what you liked or not.

"I could teach you," you offered, "Figure out what we like or not together." His doe eyes fill with relief and he gives you a smile as an affirmation.

"I would love that," he said, leaning down for another kiss as his hand traveled down to your soaked panties. He lets out a gasp into your mouth as he feels the material cling to your fold.

He panted, "Oh- you're so wet. Is that all for me, darling?" The way he asked made your cunt clench, so breathless and in wonder. "Yeah, E," you whine as his fingers glide on your clothed pussy, the slight friction making you gush out more juices.

"Can I take it off?" he asked, and you nod. He slides down the panties, and throws them on the floor, making a mental note to take it for himself later.

He pressed his fingers to your folds, sliding them across your cunt until the tip of his finger finds your entrance. You let out a small gasp, feeling yourself clench. "Can I?' He whispered, and again you nod. "Go ahead, E," you whispered.

The first digit enters, making him whimper about how tight you are, and how warm your insides feel. Your inner walls pulsate around the single digit.

He pumps the digit in and out before his index finger also joins. A whimper escapes your lips as your pussy stretches to accommodate his digits. "Is it good?" He asked, the nervousness mixed with heat in his tone.

"Perfect," you assure him, "Just crook your fingers a bit and you'll find a spot, focus on that for me, E." He eagerly does what you asked, his fingers finding your G-spot and pressing into it every time he thrusts his digits inside.

You moan, your hips bucking into his touch. Getting a bit more confidence from your pleasurable sounds, Ethan goes even faster. Your walls begin to pulse with the familiar need to snap the tension that was building but you didn't wanna cum so soon.

"Stop," you whispered and Ethan pulled back immediately with a questioning gaze. "Did I do something wrong?" He asked, concerned, "Did I hurt you? I am sorry."

You chuckled, "Nothing like that, my love. I was close…" You bite your lip, hesitating about saying the words that you knew would sound crude, "Wanna cum on your cock for the first time."

His eyes widened at your request. He nods obediently, pulling off his shirt with one hand and taking off his belt so he can slip out from the rest of his clothes.

His cock looked painfully hard with his cockslit leaking pre-cum all over his length. He stroked his cock to elevate some of his own needs.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," he whispered, as he slotted his girth near your entrance. His cockhead getting coated into your slick. You shake your head, "I want it, Ethan. So much."

He gives you a nod. He buries his face into the crook of your neck as he slowly slides into your warmth. Inch by inch, his cock stretches out your pussy, your inner walls molding into the shape of his length. He lets out whines as his veins sizzle with pleasure.

You felt his dick pulse and twitch as he whined, "Gonna cum. Gonna cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck-" Your hand goes to his hair to harshly tug at the brown curls. Effectively distracting him from the overwhelming pleasure. "Sushh, baby," you whispered, "It's okay. It's okay." He groans, "Babe…" You hum in reassurance. You make your pussy clench around his dick. Your walls squeezing his cock so suddenly makes his hips jerk into you, his cockhead grazing your g-spot.

You moan near his ear. "Like that," you whispered, "Take care of me."

It took him a few more moments to get used to the vice grip on his cock, the wetness, and the warmth before he began shallowly thrust into you.

He pressed kisses all over your neck, your throat, your breasts. Marking the places near your scars so you can remember this night. Both of you let out noises of pleasure.

He begins to thrust deeper than before as your nails dig into his back and he gets faster as well. Humping into you now, his mind getting lost in the sensation of your velvet heat.

"Am I doing all right?" He whines as his hips keep meeting yours. "Perfect," you moan in reply. His hips begin to snap faster, his thrusts deeper than before, filling you up. You moan louder as you keep getting filled with his cock. Your pussy begins to spasm around his length as the heat fills your tummy.

You were getting close with each snap of his hips. "You getting close, baby?" He moans, his lips now brushing against yours. "Cum on my dick, please, babe!" He begs, as he gets more desperate, his thrusts getting sloppy and losing their consistent pace.

Your free hand goes down to your folds to find your clit. Your thumb rubs fast circles onto the bud. You felt the telltale signs of your climax. Your stomach is coiling, just waiting to explode.

"Please, cum on my cock," Ethan whines again, his lips crashing with yours in a filthy open-mouth kiss. That snapped the tension your body was holding, you moaned into his mouth as your pussy began to squeeze his cock repeatedly. Your cunt milking his cock for all its worth. As soon as he feels your inner walls spasm and contract with a shallow thrust, he begins to cum.

He pants as his cum leaks out, too fucked out to pull out. You were both tired. Both emotionally and physically drained, it doesn't take long for you to sleep.

Ethan lays awake though, feeling the heat of your body beside him. Hearing you breath. He closed his eyes, and an image was in front. In which you're dead and cold.

He couldn't have that. He can't kill you anymore. Not after this. Not after promising forever with you, not after marking you and kissing your every scar.

He would have to choose in the future and he would choose you.

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cupidddd-d · 7 months

Text

and i'm hating myself because you don't want to

in which he can't help but wonder why you chose him

he went by many names. tartaglia. childe. the eleventh harbringer.

and ajax. the only name truly close to his heart. you were the only person outside of his family to ever call him that, and it sounded far too sweet coming from you.

you spoke to him as if you didn't know what kind of unforgivable things he had done. every word that fell from your lips was so saccharine that for a moment-- only a moment, he allowed his eyes to flutter shut and enjoy you fully without remorse or hesitation.

he allowed himself to believe that he truly deserved you, that he lived in a world in which he was worthy of you. but that world didn't exist. it never would, but he could dream. he could dream while he basked himself in the sunshine of your lovely voice, memorizing the way you felt in his arms.

but cruel reminders of his reality turned the dream into a nightmare. the scars on his hands that made him feel ashamed to even touch your soft, unblemished skin. the blankness and cruelty in his eyes that never deterred you. the summons from the fatui that cut his time with you short.

you were too good, too pure, and yet he allowed himself to revel in your presence. greedily accepting your love even if he was undeserving. selfishly keeping you for himself, even if there were so many others that came without the baggage.

he played with your fingers as he laid in your lap, their smoothness so different from the texture of his own scarred ones, weathered from the decades of practicing weapons.

"ajax, you're being quiet again." you said softly, a fond smile on your face as you look down at him.

"am i?" he couldn't help the twitching of his lips at the sight of your smile.

you were too bright, too good for him. if you were the sun, he was the black hole looming over the solar system. if you were a flower, he would be the weed that stole all of the soil's nutrients to itself. you didn't see it yet, but he did. he would be your undoing. he would be the cause of your painful end. but he still couldn't bring himself to let you go. "what's going on in your head, huh?" you grinned, soft fingers carding through his hair.

"why....why did you choose me? why me? why....why do you love me?" and he finally spoke, his insecurities finally confirming their existence.

"that's a stupid question," you poked his forehead as if you couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. "why wouldn't i love you? you're so easy to love, so of course i'd fall in love with you. i mean, you're gentle, you're kind, and you treat me well. what's not to love?" you speak plainly, as if it was so simple.

"but i almost destroyed your home," he looks at you with those sad blue eyes of his, and your heart cracks a little at the fact that he's been internalizing this despair for so long.

"yeah, and i love you despite all that. doesn't that say a lot about how much i truly care about you?" you say softly, not realizing the way those few words healed him.

he doesn't say anything, and you don't acknowledge the way his eyes well up with tears.

"i love you, you know that?" you trace the lines of his face, your fingers delicately smoothing across the slope of his nose and the arch of his eyebrows.

your eyes are so loving it makes him want to rip his heart out and present it to you, saying, "here it is. it's yours. it was only ever yours. to own, to break, to love, my heart beats only for you."

but he doesn't do that. he just stares up at you, and in that moment, he actually feels like he might be someone worthy of your love.

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thebibutterflyao3 · 21 days

Text

Day Thirty - Chamomile @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 1079 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Pandora glared at both of them before swivelling on her heel and walking away. The tension in her shoulders and jaw didn’t ease a whit.

“She's still angry,” Barty said quietly. “I’m sure you are too.”

Evan reluctantly slid down to the pavement and stepped back, then hugged himself tight. “I’m glad you’re trying and that you’re here.”

The unsaid “but” slashed open a new wound in his partially healed heart. His chest heaved as Evan dropped his gaze to the ground. Barty’s elation crashed with it. It couldn’t be that easy. He knew that.

Evan swallowed hard. “It hurt, Barty, more than anything…ever.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“No. Don’t speak.”

Barty shut his mouth and slid further back onto the hood so his feet dangled an inch off the ground. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and hoped Evan didn’t notice how much his hands shook. It was just as well that Evan didn’t let him speak. A ball of dread had lodged in his throat and threatened to choke him.

Don’t push me away again, Rosie. I can’t stand it!

“I want to believe that you’re better with me. That you wouldn’t hurt me like you did Reg.” Evan’s voice was calm, almost flat, but his face was twisted into a grimace. “But you did. You lied to me and presented yourself as someone different. I’m not sure my Barty is the real Barty.”

Barty’s jaw worked from side to side as he fought back the urge to defend himself. Evan had a point. Several, actually. He’d intentionally given Evan only his best side and hidden the worst bits away.

“And so did I.”

Barty’s head snapped up. “What?”

Evan winced, then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I wasn’t honest with you either. I pretended to be unbothered by everything because I wanted you to like me. Most people don’t. Not at first anyway.”

“So, we’re both liars.”

“Yes, I guess we are.”

Barty cleared his throat and pulled out two cigarettes. He put both in his mouth and lit them, then held one out to Evan. A peace offering.

Evan didn’t hesitate to take it. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “Fuck, I needed that.”

“I know. You always smoke when you’re upset.”

“You’ve never seen me upset. Not really.”

Barty released an amused breath and shook his head. “You underestimate how obsessed I am with you.”

Evan eyed him warily as he drew in another haul. The sharp angles that he’d shown Barty since their break-up did catch him off-guard, but it was also a relief to discover that Evan wasn’t as perfect as he thought. They were desperately trying to soften razor-blade edges into something palatable.

“Meaning?”

“I pay attention when it’s you. More than I ever bothered to in the past. I know what your tics are, how to make you laugh until you nearly piss yourself, and when to shut up and let you think. I know your favourites and habits by heart. Even if we weren’t as honest as we should have been, I do know you, Rosie.”

Evan dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “How can you say that when you still use that stupid nickname that I hate?”

Barty grinned. “Because I like to make your eyes roll.”

“Oh piss off,” Evan retorted with a huff.

“And when you’re all huffy, I like that too.”

“Prove it then.”

Barty arched an eyebrow. “Prove what? That I can make your eyes roll? I’d love to.”

“Prove that you care about me,” Evan said, glaring as he stepped forward. “What do you think you know?”

Barty kicked out his legs to hook both boots behind Evan’s thighs. Slowly, he reeled him in. Once Evan stood between his knees, Barty draped his arms over his shoulders and toyed with the loose curls at the nape of his neck.

“What do I definitely know about you? So many things, where do I start? Let’s see. You always ask for Yorkshire tea, but choose chamomile when you make your own. You have one dimple when you smile and it takes a tremendous amount of self-control not to bite it when it pops out.”

Evan hallowed his cheeks to hide a smile. “You bite my cheek all the time.”

“I didn’t say that I possess tremendous amounts of self-control.”

“Annoying git. Keep going.”

“I know that you hate living with your parents, but you’re worried that they won’t let you come back if you leave,” Barty continued. “And that as much as you love your sister, you hate that she can see right through you.”

“Ouch.”

Barty shrugged. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You’re not…wrong.” Evan admitted, resting his chin on Barty’s arm. “We’re a mess, Barty. This is messy.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Evan glanced back at his parents’ row house and sighed. “Pandora will never approve of us, even if she and Reg decide to leave it, and neither will my parents.”

“I don’t give a shite what they think, Evan. The important question is, do you?” Barty asked, searching his face for doubt. “I’ll never be like Lily, or James. I’m not selfless, gentle, or kind. My mouth runs faster than my mind, I waste my money on tattoos and weed, I'm fucking obsessed with you, and I’m not convinced that I can actually die.”

A startled laugh burst from Evan’s lips and he quickly stuffed his face in Barty’s shoulder. “Shut up before I punch you.”

Barty leaned back and lifted Evan’s chin, his calloused fingers rough against smooth skin. “I will never be good enough for you, Rosie, but I think…I think I may love you.”

“Blegh. Never say that again,” Evan said, gagging exaggeratedly. “Shut up and kiss me before I change my mind and break your face.”

“You can sit on it, if you like?”

Evan grabbed Barty’s neck and smashed their mouths together. The kiss was nothing but spit, scraping teeth, and sparring tongues, just how Barty liked it. How they both needed it.

The words hung out there in the air and Evan didn’t refute the truth of them. They both knew what that meant. “Love” was a word that soured in their mouths. It evoked cutesy couple shite, awkwardly tender looks, and gentle touches.

Barty and Evan didn’t have that kind of “love.” Theirs was stupid dares, a dick piercing, neck biting, high on life — and probably weed — kind of love. It wasn’t pretty, but it was theirs.

#barty crouch jr x evan rosier #evan x barty #barty x evan #barty crouch junior #barty jr #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #rosekiller microfic #rosekiller #slytherin skittles #marauders era

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miko32 · 5 days

Text

Born Into the Seven Ruler's of Devildom

I was isekai'd to a world in a book. The title was "Kristin in the Harem of the Seven Demon Lords." Like its title, a human named Kristin was brought to Devildom against her will and had to survive through the temptation of the seven demon lords, who were brothers and avatars of the seven sins.

The seventh brother, Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth.

The sixth brother, Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony.

The fifth brother, Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust.

The fourth brother, Satan, the Avatar of Wrath.

The third brother, Leviathan, the Avatar of Envy.

The second brother, Mammon, the Avatar of Greed.

The first brother, Lucifer, the fallen angel, the Avatar of Pride. My father. The one who succeeded in seducing the human Kristin and impregnating her.

I was in shambles with the ending. Lucifer had kicked Kristin out, banished to the swamp and died giving birth. The baby survived and was named Leilel by Kristin, and that baby is me.

I'm Leilel Morningstar, the child of Lucifer Morningstar.

Chapter List

1, 2, 3, 4

Tag List (Anyone can ask in the comment or send a message and say hi! I would really love to talk to you :D )

@f0uerleafedcl0ver

Chapter 5 --- First Day at School

The school quickly descended into chaos as all the demons talked about the new humans, their conversations soon turning to the previous humans in the program.

"Why didn't Diavolo invite Solomon?"

"Perhaps due to the incident with the human girl who was killed."

"Do you think there might be an 'accident' involving the human girl?"

"Ahaha! That would be quite dramatic!"

"Just another nephilim they have to deal with!"

…

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!

That's all I could think of as I walked toward my classroom. This is messed up, absolutely messed up. Why in the world would Diavolo start the exchange again? After thirteen years, at the same year I enrolled?! What kind of stupid fate is this?! Ugh. Whoever God from up there or down here must’ve hated me. Why do these things keep happening to me?!!!

"Ah!" My foot caught something, and I fell face-first.

A group of demons laughed at me.

"Ahaha! Watch where you're going," the demon kicked my side. I let out an 'uf' as I felt another demon put their boots on my back, holding me down.

"Argh!" Fuck! Fuck! Oh, how fate truly hates me.

"Iuuu... She has some sort of weird smell."

"What do you expect from a swamp demon?” I felt the demon lift his boot. I tightly closed my eyes, waiting for the pain.

“Hey!”

I looked up from the floor, my view only to a familiar pair of white high-heeled boots.

“You low-born demons, it’s the third bell! I will not have you punk demons ruin Diavolo’s precious academy on the first day,” Mephistopheles scolded.

The demon who has his boots on me turned to Mephisto. I slowly lifted myself up, surprised at Mephistopheles defending me.

“Fuck off Mephist-”

Mephistopheles lifted his cane to the demon’s neck, silencing him. The demon gulped.

“With the new human exchange students, it is ordered that there will be no fighting between students.” Mephisto stepped forward, pushing the demon into the wall, his purple aura flowing from his hand through his cane. “So you better follow that order, or I’ll put you on the list of Diavolo’s enemies.”

“What-!”

Mephisto struck his neck with the end of the cane. The demon doubled over, coughing.

“Understood?”

The demon coughed and nodded. Mephisto gave a glare and his friends pulled him away, leaving me and Mephistopheles in the hallway. I placed my hand over my side, emitting a healing power. I felt Mephistopheles staring at me.

I should say thank you. “Um, tha-”

“Don’t,” Mephisto cut me off. “I will need you in good shape to show me the warehouse, correct?”

Oh. Right. I nodded.

“Good, now quickly get to your class,” he lightly pushed my leg with his cane. I flinched and glared at him. He smiled back and walked to his class.

I sigh relief. I choose a great demon to be my support. For now.

I gave myself a few minutes to let the healing power work through my back. Then I lifted myself up and went to my first class, History of Devildom. I had memorized the classes I take in this building, and I was able to arrive in time. I sighed with relief as I took my seat. Luckily, no one seemed to care about me. And… I looked around the classroom. No demon brothers.

Yes!

A woman walked in, small pointy red horns on her head, short white hair, and a scowl on her face.

"Sit DOWN!" she shouted to the whole class. Of course, she would be the teacher. The student take their seat as the teacher scold. "As it is mandatory to introduce myself, even though you punk demons don't need another History Lesson 101 all over the decades because you're all lazy punks!"

She lifted her index finger, with long red sharp nails that could reach the ceiling. She scratched it on the blackboard behind her.

SCREEECH, SCREECH, SCREEECH,

I closed my ears and gritted my teeth. The teacher spelled out on the blackboard her name, "Miss Viles."

"Now, all of you will address me as Miss Viles! Or else!" she pulled out a metal ruler and snapped it. A crackling sound burst through the room like thunder, but there was no lightning. Thankfully, I'm already used to the sound in the swamp. "And! I do not tolerate-!"

"OIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!"

I jolted in my seat. That familiar voice... A demon behind me whispered, "Oh no, it's the scumbag greed brothers."

My eyes widened. The greedy scummy brother would be-!

Running steps were heard approaching from the hallway. Miss Viles groaned and held the door. When the demon stepped into the doorframe, she slammed it.

"GAH!!!"

I blinked my eyes, a demon sprawled on the floor. He had messy white hair. He was the avatar of greed, Mammon.

"HEY! I could've smashed the door, professor!" Mammon protested.

The demons behind me murmured, disappointed that Mammon didn't get slammed. That was obvious; Mammon had speed no demon in the realm could match.

Miss Viles glared. "Mammon, I will not repeat myself! Come to class on time!"

Mammon waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got ya!"

A knock on the door, and it opened, revealing a cute tan girl with brown hair. “Um, Ma-Mammon?"

I gasped. She’s one of the human exchange students!

“Ah! You must be Carina, right?”

“Ye-yes,” Carina stepped into the classroom, offering her hand. “Nice to meet-”

“I see you’ve already rubbed off on Mammon’s behavior,” Miss Viles ignored her hand. Carina slowly put her hand away with a frown. “Just because he is your caretaker doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be late for my class!” She slapped her ruler, making a thundering noise. Carina yelped.

“I-I-I’m sorry! Please don't kill me!” Carina bowed her back in fear. Students behind me snickered and laughed.

Oh no. This is just a repeat of what happened to Kristin. Bullied, mocked, threatened to be eaten. Not to mention, her caretaker was the same demon Mam-

“Eeep!!!”

The said demon had his face close to mine, staring at me. I was frozen in my seat, scared to death.

"Yo! Miss Viles! Who is this demon?"

What is he doing?? What does he want?! Did he realize??!!

Miss Viles blew her mouth. “Oh, that’s just the new baby demon from the swamp.”

“Wait!” Mammon banged the table, and I stood up, stepping back from my seat. “You’re the youngest demon?!”

“Uh-uh-uh, yeah?” Oh no, he must’ve realized I’m Leilel! FUCKING SHIT! I need to escape through the window!

"Oh yeah, you're the same age as-" Mammon suddenly stopped. He frowned at me, clicked his tongue, and sat in his chair. The whole class went quiet.

What's going on? Just a moment ago, Mammon was bothering me and now the whole class went dead silents. I glance at from the corner of my eyes, the whole students closed their mouth as if being sewed.

Miss Viles sense the discomfort, clears her throat, and clapped her hands. "Well, I guess that’s enough chaos. Let’s start class."

I sat back into my chair, dreadful and nervous. The classroom table is for three people, and I’m sitting with the poor human Carina and demon Lord Mammon.

Oh, God, why do you hate me so much?

My heart beating so fast it may have fallen out of my ribcage. My hand sweats like a pig. I take a slow deep breath. Distracting myself with the professor's lecture. I look from the corner of my eyes. Mammon was leaning over his crossed arms, yawning. He seemed to be bored out of his mind and ignoring everyone around him. I sighed in relief.

Then a quill tapped on my book. “Hey, I’m Carina, what’s your name?”

I flinch. Fuck. Quite bold this human wants to introduce herself to a demon on the first day. Very unfortunate that demon is me. If I become acquainted with Carina, I will be involved in Diavolo’s and the Seven Brothers' twisted game. They would let Carina be friends with me, then make me the evil demon who's out to eat this girl while the demon brothers protect her. It’s how they tricked Kristin and gained her favor.

And it’s going to happen again. I gritted my teeth and turn back to my book. I ignore her. I can’t get involved with her. Never.

I hear Carina let out a disappointed sigh. I clenched my pen. My consciousness was heavy with guilt. I'm really sorry. But her fate here had been predestined. And there’s nothing I would and could do. I'm still trying my hardest to survive here, and it's not been easy. Not without my blops though.

I exhales through my nose. I miss them already.

Suddenly Carina leaned on me, looking at my book. "Hum... La-mi? Lami?!"

I closed my book with a loud thud. For a human, she doesn't have a decency to keep a person's private space and business. Great. This kind of human would easily go down at least in a month.

I was about to scold her. "You...!" I stop as I saw the surprised look on her face, as if she can't believe what she's seeing in front of her. Her eyes cast down and up to my face. I blink. Why is she...?

Then her mouth curved into a grin like the Cheshire cat. “Wow, Lami” Carina mumbled with a smile. She giggled. “You’re thirteen, right? That makes me older than you.”

My left eyes twitch, shiver all over my back. Is this human a creep?

“What are you two talking about?”

I almost jumped in my seat when Mammon interrupted us.

Carina giggled. “Oh, I’m just introducing myself. Lami is so shy~” she gave me a weird smile. All the hair on my neck stood up.

What is this?

“Ik!” Mammon exclaimed. “Why would you wanna be friends with a demon from the swamp? They're the lowest of the lowest demons.”

Carina gasped. “Ma-Mammon!”

I rolled my eyes and returned to my book. A tan hand blocked my book with his palm. It was Mammon looming over me with a smirk.

“Not even the lowest demon wants to live there. You must’ve loved the smell, huh? I hope you shower twice cause I ain’t smellin - BUH!"

A board eraser smacked into Mammon’s head, and he fell backward into his seat.

“Kyaaaa!!!” Carina screamed.

“Human! Quiet! Mammon! Pay attention to the class! You've been in this class for decades! I had ENOUGH!" Miss Viles turned at me with a glare. "You!" She point her really-really long nails at me. I gulp. "I knew a demon from a swamp will have no manners whatsoever. So I'm going to assign you three, to DETENTION!" she slap her ruler to our table, creating a thunder sound over the class.

Carina scream loudly into my ears, hiding under the table like a mouse. Mammon was still on the floor, maybe passed out. The whole class laugh and mock us until Viles silents them. Then she went back to her lecture with a huff.

I take deep breaths, deep breaths, deep breaths. My heart may as well going to heart attack. How I wish it would happen. How I wish I was dead and send to Celestial Realm.

"I hate first day at school."

RRRIIIING!!!

The first bell rings for the next period, and I swiftly exit the class, my feet carrying me away.

“Ah, ah! Lami!”

It's Carina calling me. I keep running. Though the guilty conscience still lingers at the back of my mind, asking me if I'm going to let what happened to Kristin happen again.

I shake my head. No, I can't do that. I can't help anyone but myself. I keep running toward the RAD newspaper office.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Mephistopheles has his arms crossed, scowling at me. “Detention? On the first day?”

I frown as I open the map of Devildom. “It wasn’t my fault, it was that dumb greedy demon, Mammon!”

“Yet, you got yourself involved with that demon?” Mephistopheles clicks his tongue. I scrunch my face in anger. Demons. Why did I even bother defending myself? I take a deep breath, settling my anger down. After I relax, I focused on the map, pointing at a location.

“Here.”

Mephistopheles looks over the map, his frown deepening. “The park?! Are you insane? A thousand years of searching for the rebellion's illegal operation is there?!”

“It is there, just hidden.” I rummage through my satchel and pull out a small dual-sided standing mirror. “See the forest behind the park? It’s an illusion. They used this ancient spell, a double mirror, reflecting what they recorded in the mirror and making it like a big whole projector.”

I demonstrate with my mirror, reflecting the fireplace. The first side captures the fireplace like a picture with a camera. Mephistopheles watches silently. Then I turn to the second side, facing the other side of the room. The reflection now shows the door as a fireplace.

Mephistopheles gasps, standing over his couch. “I’ve, I’ve seen this spell,” he points to the mirror. “If we had walked through the line where the mirror is placed,” Mephisto steps to the fireplace, touching it. “Everything becomes real.”

I nod. “That’s why none of you can find the place.”

Of course, I know this from the novel. The chapter tells how one of the rebellion demon approach Kristin, offering her an escape from Devildom. In exchange, Kristin would give them a key to Lucifer’s real Cerberus at the basement of the House of Lamentation. Since their operation is based on recreating the demon dog Cerberus, they would need the blood of the real Cerberus. After a while, Kristin decided not to continue, not wanting to cause chaos in Devildom.

Stupid girl.

The novel said she trusted those brothers, giving them a second chance to redeem themselves. Yeah. Where are you now, huh, Kristin? Buried in the unknown dirt of Devildom, leaving me behind.

I grit my teeth and clench my hand on my lap, trying hard not to let it show on my face. So I scrunch my face and exhale.

Mephistopheles doesn’t seem to notice me, busy taking notes and talking to himself.

“Alright, alright,” He taps his notepad. “I’ll be with reinforcement to see if this is real.” He looks at me seriously. “If we find nothing, I’ll personally escort you to Barbatos's torture room at the Demon Castle.”

Hearing Mephisto threat made my heart stop for a second. Oh, fuck. Do I really want to risk my life with a novel I just read through the internet?

…

Fuck this. I close my eyes and nod.

“Good, if you try to escape,” I suddenly feel a weight around my wrist. Mephistopheles' mark shines, creating a shackle around it. “The mark will be your chains, is that clear?”

I gulp down my throat. Since when is he able to do this? I nod again, praying to God above to let my plan goes well.

#obey me shall we date #om #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mephistopheles #obey me self insert #isekai #fanfic #bornintotheseven'srulerofdevildom

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javasquats · 4 months

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Annabeth in PJO episode 3

Ok because a few people requested, here are the thoughts I had on Annabeth's characterization in episode three. I wrote it out and it's literally a whole essay so I'm putting it under a cut lolol also spoiler warning for discussion of themes in Mark of Athena, but I'll put another warning before that part.

I was watching and thinking about how in a way Annabeth is the main character of this episode. In the beginning when they stop to get snacks, we see her on her own in the gas station store (which I'd say is somewhat notable considering that Percy is the sole narrator of the books, meaning we only ever get to see what he sees). We hear Grover talk about monsters hunting demigods while we simultaneously see Annabeth pursued by the fury. This establishes an image of what her life was like before camp. We imagine the type of monsters that have sabotaged her attempts at normalcy. She's just a kid buying snacks!! And she is so like Percy in the way her normal life has been disrupted over and over.

Later in the woods, when Percy suggests calling her mom, the way she says "excuse me?" isn't just annoyed at his stupidity. You can hear the actual emotional injury in her delivery. Like the equivalent of a typical kid with a typical absent parent receiving a jab about it. Percy assumes that they're close because Athena gifted Annabeth the Yankees cap. But the fact that they're not makes this look a lot more like a deadbeat parent throwing gifts at their child thinking that makes up for their absence. Just enough to maintain Annabeth's hope for her mother's love and approval.

"You're loyal to your mother?" "Yes!" "You love her?" "Yes! Of course I do!" She is still captivated by the idea of having that motherly love. That perfect family.

And then Medusa is telling her story, and the writers give us explicit permission to understand this as describing Annabeth's story. Annabeth, like Medusa, is trying so hard to receive love and to feel like she is enough, fighting for Athena's approval. And then the son of Poseidon, like Medusa describes Poseidon himself (purely going off of what medusa says in this story, rather than the myth itself, for narrative purposes), comes along and promises her that love, shows her that affection. And she starts to think maybe she is enough! She is lovable! Annabeth starts to heal from the wounds caused by her abandonment.

(Mark of Athena spoilers btw)

And then Athena, who she spent so long fighting for the approval of and who was the one who caused those wounds that Percy helped her recover from, comes back and says Annabeth is a disgrace and a failure, just like she did with Medusa.

Poseidon also abandons Medusa in her story. His promises of love her empty, and Medusa is left alone, with nothing. Double abandonment whammy. So like we can imagine if we apply this to Annabeth, the amount of apprehension and fear about letting Percy in and believing that she is lovable, because what if it's a lie?

Slight Medusa aside: she only begins to act "monstrously" when she tries to manipulate Percy in the kitchen, once again drawing a parallel between herself and another woman. But this time it's Sally Jackson who she doesn't even know. She tries to turn Percy against Annabeth because she thinks Annabeth will turn against her. She sees herself in Annabeth and at the same time is redirecting her own pain at her.

"We are not our parents until we choose to be, and you two have chosen." As if humans are static. As if we aren't a continual work in progress. Always growing and changing. As if we don't learn our lessons in our own time.

(Tagging the people who requested this! Hope you enjoyed my whole ass ted talk!!)

@irregular-child @perpetuallyexhaustedmess @mortalmab

#pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo episode 3 #pjo #annabeth chase #medusa #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #javasquatting

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moreespressoformydepresso · 3 months

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What are your honest thoughts on all Descendants boys? From both books and movies?

Oehh that’s a good question! I’ll base most of this off of the movies because I remember them more clearly. Sorry this is so late, I needed some time to sort out my thoughts. Let’s see:

Ben: cutie, golden retriever energy, needs to grow a bit more of a spine but as a recovering doormat I vibe with him.

He’s got a good heart, and he’s definitely going places, but I have no idea who decided a 16-year-old should be king. Hilariously, he’s a better king than his dad because he cares about all of his people, not just the “heroes”. But still, he’s 16, let him have his dumbass teenage years. He’s still in his phase of wanting to please everyone and that isn’t gonna lead to the best decision making. You’re king, Ben, you can overrule your girlfriend’s selfish idiotic plan of closing the barrier. Just tell her “the barrier was opened for you to come through too. If those kids aren’t worth the risk, does that mean you aren’t either? Should we throw you back?!” And she’s change her tune real fast. You gotta give some tough love sometimes.

Jay: cool, I wanna know his gym routine, pretty funny but rash, needs Carlos to temper his brand of crazy (love their bromance).

I love the narrative parallels to the movie Aladdin. Jafar thought himself so far above a street rat and now he’s raised his son to be one so he can continue being a con-man. In the movies, Jay is actually a very accurate representation of your upbringing shaping you into who you are. All Jay knows is stealing, he’s never been taught to pay if he doesn’t have to, so to him stealing’s perfectly fine. It’s normal. It’s a lot more subtle than the whole “who doesn’t like being evil” bit, but the core idea is the same: when all you’ve ever known is one perspective, that’s gonna feel like the objective truth because you’ve never had a chance to try a different one.

Carlos De Vil: Best (movie) Boy, my baby, I love him. What a little nerd (affectionate).

He’s a big part of why I willfully ignore the absolute stupidity that is the third movie’s ending. I’m sorry Mal, wtf is wrong with you??? You set your supposed friend’s abuser free for nothing but some empty platitudes and dare suggest you’ve become an empathetic person?!?! In the books, we get a lot more insight into just how horrible of a mother Cruella is, but even in the movies we see he’s had it bad because of how jumpy and nervous he is. Disney is still Disney so we don’t get much of the healing process, but we see how he calms down and adjusts to a normal life over the course of the movies when he’s out of the bad situation, which is pretty good by Disney standards. Cameron Boyce did an amazing job playing him (R.I.P Cameron) and seeing an abuse victim get comfortable within their own skin and getting the happy ending they deserve is always fun.

Harry Hook: Insane (affectionate), most fashionable drama queen ever, absolutely crazy, more than a few screws loose but in the best way possible, he’s hilarious.

So on the surface, Harry’s pretty simple. A dude who’s lost his marbles and flirts with everyone. He probably has some kind of moral compass, since he didn’t rip Mal’s throat out with his hook when she revealed her little stunt in D3, but it fell overboard at some point and couldn’t be found so nobody knows what it is except Harry himself. Also, he has his sane moments, like during that same confrontation in D3 I mentioned before where he says “And you, King Benny... you're probably gonna throw us all back inside.” It’s the first time I’ve heard him sound… not like Harry. It’s sombre and defeated, a little disappointed maybe? Either way it’s really good acting and it implies he can act completely “normal” but he just chooses not to, which makes me like him even more. He’s just a dude living his best life despite the circumstances he was born into.

Gil: adorable, hilarious, kinda clueless but in a good way.

I love characters that have no idea what’s going on half the time but are absolute sweethearts trying their best. He’s like- the opposite of his dad in every way and I’m living for it!

Gaston Jr and Gaston the third: I don’t have much to say on them, let alone separately, so they get a section together.

Honestly? I don’t remember having an opinion of them. They made Evie happy by wresting, which is cool so they get points for that. Seem like they’re trying to out-gentleman each other to win Evie’s heart and since they’re not being creepy assholes about it they are objectively better than their dad. Very much brawl over brains, the two of them, with their constant wrestling reminding me of Carlos and Jay except they’re both the muscle. Kinda cute sibling relationship, even if it’s in a VK-typical villain-flavored way.

Anthony Tremaine: squeeeee, my type is pretty boys who sigh in annoyance at everything, I guess? We only get scraps but I happily cradle them to my chest.

Uhmmm so Anthony’s personality is mostly up for imagination? The only canon information we have is that he’s most likely Anastasia’s only kid (someone on Tumblr pointed out that, in the scene with the wicked step-daughters, he’s referred to only as their cousin, not their brother) and he’s very bored with his cousins’ antics. Given A Twist In Time the potential drama is endless. Every time Anthony’s mentioned we’re reminded he’s pretty and has good style, and I love that for him. Dude lives on an isle of junk and still looks like a supermodel. Lots of room for my own ideas while still remaining within the realm of “could be canon” with just enough base in there that I’m not just creating an OC, and as a writer and artist that’s all I need tbh.

Hadie: cute, deserves better, I need more of him and Mal bonding

Mal’s half-brother, son of Hades, very cool. I like that he’s trying to turn good and having a hard time, because that’s very realistic for someone who grew up not knowing anything other than evil. Descendants 2 tried to tackle it with Mal, but failed miserably. We know Hades sucks as a parent in descendants (neglect is abuse) so that’s not gonna help him.

Dough: Awww he’s so cute with Evie 🥺

No really that’s it. He’s a nerd that gets the girl, has some very funny moments, but honestly most of his character is centered around Evie? And they’re cute together it’s not a bad thing but there isn’t much to analyze. He’s understandably pissed about someone like Chad getting all the girls while using them, but that’s also only ever seen in relation to Evie.

Chad Charming: what a bitch (derogatory), total coward, I hate him but he’s funny.

So I have no issue with characters who conduct themselves terribly (I love Audrey, (fanon) Anthony, Uma, and many others from many fandoms) if, and that’s a massive IF, they have a good reason for it. And I’ll count “because I can and I want to” as a good reason, because by that point you have someone who’s mean and owns it. I can appreciate the self-awareness and usually those characters are very extra so it’s entertaining. If not that, there needs to be a reason they are the way they are. Audrey has the pressure from her grandmother (and the borderline verbal abuse), Uma has the very real grievance of living in squalor on a run-down island full of the worst of humanity because she was born, what does Chad have? He’s spoiled. A spoiled brat. And he goes from that to an overtly whimpering coward with none of the pretense of superiority in any field. His one saving grace is that he’s a massive joke.

Diego De Vil, Clay Clayton, Gonzo, Jace and Harry Badun, Herkie, Aziz, Jonas, Lefou Deux, Li Shang Jr, everyone else I missed: no opinion, because they’re not relevant enough for the writers to give them a personality.

I have nothing I’m sorry. I barely remember reading their names and I don’t remember anything from the scenes they’re (mentioned) in to get an idea of what to talk about here.

That was… a lot lmao

#disney descendants #descendants #descendants anthony #descendants jay #carlos de vil #descendants carlos #descendants ben #descendants chad #chad charming #descendants gil #gil descendants #harry hook #descendants harry hook #hadie descendants #gaston jr #gaston the third #anthony tremaine #character analysis #?? i guess

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witchthewriter · 11 months

Photo

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: swears, kidnapping, a lotta violence

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Jax left without another word, from either of you.

It felt like your heart had unlocked from your chest and fell through your body, down

down

down it went.

Falling through the floor, through the earth and into eternity.

Stupid. You felt so stupid, and … foolish.

When he left, the door banged shut. But you barely registered it. Only that the dogs were now whining at the front door, confused and hungry. However, your mind was elsewhere. A myriad of questions fighting for your attention. But one stood out amongst the rest:

What just happened? Had he felt the same?

A slave to your thoughts, it was lucky that there was a seat behind you because your knees gave out. Sitting there in silence, you still felt the warmth of his hand on your cheek. The hot breath that tingled your face. A mix of beer and cigarettes. You had been so close that you were able to smell the leather of his kutte. The faded freckles over the bridge of his nose, see the stubble on his face.

Time ticked by but you weren’t a woman of inaction. Sitting there wasn’t going to help anything. It wasn’t going to solve, nor heal.

Getting up, you fed your two dogs and grabbed your keys, Jax be damned.

- ✦ -

The closest bar wasn’t that much of a drag, but you knew there were better ones in Charming (only slightly). Yet you couldn’t be bothered to drive too far, you wanted somewhere close by. Somewhere you could possibly walk home from …

The door had the words ‘Bar’ written across it in big white paint, and you pushed it open. The stench of liquor filled your nostrils and as soon as the door swung shut behind you, you were enveloped in darkness. There was barely any light. Not even a window to the outside. It felt like another planet.

Sitting down at the counter, you heard the music turn up a little. Whoever was choosing the playlist had a love for 80s rock, specifically Metallica.

You’d heard Enter Sandman about three times in the hour you had been there. With three glasses of rye and ginger down, the grimy bar started to seem a whole lot more appealing. The alcohol was starting to do its job; the trickle of warmth and giddiness was entering your system.

Good, you thought. One of your legs now dangling from the chair.

“Another?” asked the old bartender. With his short grey beard and matching hair, he seemed like somebodies grandfather. With each drink he had given you water and slid over the peanuts for you to munch on.

What were you doing here? The thought entered your mind as you swung around and scanned the bar. The dimmed lights made it seem like night, and whenever someone entered or left, the sun stunned you.

Still lost in your thoughts, you didn’t feel the presence beside you. The young handsome man leant his arms on the bench, still standing and peered at you. He wore all black, even down to his boots; they were worn in but cleaned as best as they could be.

“Hey,” his voice was loud enough just to be heard over the sound of Enter Sandman – being played for the fourth time.

Balking, you swivelled in your chair to face him, instantly feeling roused.

“Hi,” you leaned against the bar and signalled for another drink. Five minutes later, the drink appeared next to your hand – with a fresh bottle of water. Looking into your eyes, the old man didn’t say anything but you heard him loud and clear. Be careful.

“You uh, here by yourself?” One of the man’s eyebrow raised as he turned his body completely, to face you. There were multiple rings on his fingers as he interlaced them.

Confidence on the up, you slowly moved your head to one side and let a slow smile form on your face.

“Sure am,” you felt like a black widow. A spider waiting for her meal. Or a siren, waiting on the shoreline for a sailor.

Now you knew why you were here. You had to forget who had broken your heart and why he had done so.

The man smiled back, understanding flashing in his eyes. You picked up your drink and downed it in one.

All the man did was cock his head toward the door and you nodded.

A prickle formed on the back of your neck, but you ignored it, put it down as a chill from the air conditioning. You knew what you wanted, there was no harm in this…right? It was fine. Utterly and completely fine.

- ✦ -

There hadn’t been any Sons stationed to look after you; there hadn’t been an order since you weren’t working. The Sons had been visiting anyway, so there was no need for one.

However, Happy had been on his way back from a run and saw the bar flash by. He’d recognised your car and instantly put his blinder on to enter the parking lot.

Pulling up beside your car, he unclipped his helmet and let it hang on the bike.

Happy considered going inside, until he heard the screaming.

- ✦ -

Even before Jax got the call, he knew something was wrong. Maybe it was his decision to leave to leave you, but whatever the reason, unease had followed him home.

His mobile rang just as he tucked Abel into bed. The little boy had fallen asleep on his father’s shoulder, a kid’s movie playing on the tv. Thomas was on one side of Jax. Their little heads resting against their father’s bare arms.

Gemma sat on the chair to Jax’s left, the television lights reflecting on her black heels. Usually, Wendy was there morning to night, day after day. She had stepped into the role of mother with ease. Well… from the outside it seemed so. Inside she was in pain. Not just because she was running on limited sleep, but because now she knew what Tara had experienced.

The bond her biological son had with her would no longer grow. And it was her turn to raise another woman’s child. The irony of it had felt like a stab to the heart.

“Wait, wait, she’s what?” Jax couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Happy’s voice on the other end was rushed, worried.

Concern spread throughout Jax like an electric shock. He felt sick. This was the exact reason why he had refused you. Even though he wanted you so badly; wanted to choose you.

But he knew something like this would happen. God, you hadn’t even goddamned kissed and they had taken you.

- ✦ -

“What are you doing?” Your heart was thumping, hammering, pounding. What had seemed like a gentleman turned out to be a guy from another club. Four members had pulled you into the van.

You had fought; kicked, punched, bit, elbowed. A few times you had nearly gotten away. But it was a good thing they had four guys, because you could’ve taken on three.

“Why are you doing this!” You questioned again, their faces uncovered, and kuttes’ on.

“Money,” one guy said, and another told him to shut up.

“I don’t have any money-“ you countered, doing your best to slowly undo your binds. They had tied your hands and feet but left you without a blindfold or a gag.

“Not your money,” the same guy repeated. This time he got a whack from the same guy who told him to shut up.

Idiots. Both you and the men were idiots, you thought cruelly. Silently beating yourself up for being in this situation. Although, unbeknownst to you, this was going to happen no matter where you were.

A target was on your back as soon as you were seen at the clubhouse.

A man neither you nor the club knew, had been gathering intel on the Sons of Anarchy. And Jax was his main target.

His sons weren’t easy to get to, since they were protected 24/7. Gemma and Wendy were by their sides when they weren’t in school. Prospects trailing them, most of the time too.

The Sons were always packing heat, so it was too unpredictable to target them.

So, that left you. A single woman, with no family or close friends, who had grown close to Jax during these rough times. A perfect target. Especially since you were on your own a lot.

And it was just too perfect; you driving yourself to this bar on the side of the highway. No regulars, only random members of public who wouldn’t remember you nor the man you left with.

“No one I know has money. Please, just let me go-“ You said through gritted teeth, fear and irritation clawing their way through you.

“Mmmm, but Jax Teller does.”

- ✦ -

“And you saw her get in the van?” Jax was already slipping on his boots, grabbing his holster, and walking out the front door. His mind wasn’t clear nor was it foggy. It was somewhere else, high above him, making decisions even before he had a chance to think.

“Jax? What’s going on?” Gemma called from the doorway; her arms folded tightly against her chest.

“Just look after the boys and lock everything. Don’t open the door to anyone you don’t know.“ If Jax hadn’t sounded so worried, she would have said “okay dad,” but she saw true fear in her son.

There was a rumble of a bike and Jax sped away. He was headed to the clubhouse knowing the rest of the guys would be there. Happy would have called them after Jax. He’d need them for this. And they’d want to know what was going on.

You were connected to them now, all of them. You may not wear a kutte, but you’ve done things that have risked yourself. All for the club. And that truly meant something to these men.

- ✦ -

“I’ve got nothing to do with Jax,” you almost spat the words. An anger that you couldn’t understand starting to grow.

“We’ve got information that says otherwise, sweetheart.”

The man that had led you from the bar piped up, and you scowled.

“Fuck you,” the words were a snarl. And you so badly wanted to scrape your nails down his smirking face.

“You certainly wanted to,” he replied, giving you a sly wink. Full of disgust, you kicked the seat in front of you as hard as you could.

“Do that again and I’ll take a finger,” the driver said calmly. He hadn’t said anything this entire time. His eyes never leaving the road.

“Then take a fucking finger,” you replied darkly, doing your best to kick and punch with your bound limbs. With your fingers free, you lunged at the man closest to you, opening your arms to catch his head between the open space and squeezed his neck with your still bound hands.

You dug your fingers into the man’s eyes, knowing you weren’t going down without a goddamn fucking fight.

“FUCK!” One guy yelled, scrambling to rescue your own hostage.

“HOW IS SHE DOING THAT?” Another spluttered, stunned at first then moved. But the van came to a sudden halt and everyone lurched forward.

The man you were suffocating as well as blinding, accidentally hit your chin with his head due to the momentum. Luckily chins have stronger bones then the top of one’s head, and the guy screeched louder.

“Out! Now!” The driver bellowed. He unclipped his seat belt, walked around the car and slid open the van.

Everyone was quiet. Obviously confused, but no more than you. Was he letting you go? Hope filled your chest until he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you from the van.

“It’s happening. Now.” Was all he said before pulling out a phone and dialling.

- ✦ -

Jax had pulled into the garage’s lot, jogging across the concrete, he felt the desperation almost leaking from him. Without even grasping the door handle, the door swung open to reveal the Sons inside.

“Any word?” Chibs said, letting Jax walk in before closing the door.

“No,” Jax replied, out of breath. He couldn’t sit down. But his legs felt like jelly. Tig’s leg was bouncing, his eyes squeezed shut.

Plan. They needed a plan. All Happy had saw was you being dragged into a black van and it driving off. Before he got on his bike, he tried to look for the number plates but there weren’t any. That’s when he called Jax.

Jax wiped his forehead and then placed his phone on the counter.

His phone rang instantly.

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negasonicteenagemess · 2 years

Text

Loveless God

Pairing: Marc Spector x Reader; Steven Grant x Reader; Khonshu x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Marc attends to Y/N’s wounds, while Steven persistently blames himself for it with Khonshu’s insistence on healing her himself.

masterlist

“Y/N you have to hold still,” Marc spoke as softly as he possibly could as his wife grimaced at the feeling of tweezers lodged in her torso. Tears cascaded down her face as he poked and prodded at the gunshot wound, trying to find at least one of the bullets she was shot with.

“Marc, please” she sobbed, grabbing his wrist in a quick movement to lessen the pain any way she could, “please it hurts.” His eyes flashed to hers before looking back at her torso, biting his lip before locating the metal lodged inside her, causing the woman to let out a loud scream.

“I know baby, I know, but I gotta do this,” he continued whispering hopefully calming affirmations as the bullet was now in the forceps and out of her body. Y/N’s eyes were screwed shut as she brought her forearm to cover her face, her torso still throbbing alongside her shoulder that still contained the harsh metal.

“Marc,” the man heard the grainy stern voice of a certain Egyptian God he swore to serve. Marc ignored the deity, shaking his head, too focused on his wife and her health. “Marc,” Khonshu repeated louder, beginning to irritate the man who was attempting to comfort the love of his life.

“What!?” Marc suddenly shouted, turning to the bird like God and startling Y/N. She knew what was going on, after being with him for so long. She assumed that Khonshu probably made some stupid comment about her situation.

“Let her be my avatar, so that I could heal her with my armor,” Khonshu now transfixed on the woman lying in pain on their dining room table with multiple bullet wounds. Marc scoffed, shaking his head and focusing back on Y/N by applying pressure to the spot he just violated, “not in a billion years, birdman.”

“Please, she’s in pain,” Khonshu spoke, almost as if he cared about her. Marc clenched his jaw, that lousy excuse of a God couldn’t care about anything other than himself.

“You’ve caused nothing but trouble in my life, fucking god forbid I let you do the same to her,” Marc’s voice commanded, refusing to look at disgrace that haunted his every waking moment. He closed his eyes for a moment, before opening them to pick up the tweezers he dropped. His eyes met Y/N’s as he gave her a tightlipped smile and a short “sorry.”

“Stop being so stubborn, you pathetic man,” Khonshu’s words boomed through the room, a light wind rustling the papers of the various books around the London apartment, signifying his intense emotions.

“What’s he saying?” Y/N asked, sucking in breath through her teeth, not wanting to speak, breathe or do anything that would make her stomach move. Marc took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind of that God even if it was only temporary, “absolute bullshit. The usual.”

Suddenly before her eyes, the God materialized, giving Y/N a fright as it wasn’t suspected.

“Be my avatar, Y/N. I can heal you,” Khonshu suggested, Marc noting his tone was much lighter than it ever had been with him. “Khonshu,” Marc fumed, glaring almost in warning to the pathetic God, “stop this.” Khonshu ignored the human’s words, focused on Y/N and only her.

“I’m not that desperate, thanks,” she sarcastically retorted. Leaning her head back onto the dining room table and pinching her eyes shut, hoping that this will all soon become a very distant memory.

“Y/N,” Khonshu began before she interrupted him. “L-Leave me alone, you shit head,” she groaned, the pain probably influencing the frustration laced in her words.

Khonshu didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded, choosing to dematerialize before both of their eyes. Marc laughed humorlessly, working on removing the second and last bullet from her, with this one lodged in her left shoulder.

“That’s why I love you. Calling a God a shit head in all his glory,” he muttered, this time locating the bullet quicker, but having trouble fishing it out. “Blasphemy, I know,” she tried to crack a joke before wincing and whining at the further trauma being added to her wounds.

For the rest of the time Marc spent assessing Y/N’s wounds, and ensuring that she wouldn’t need a hospital even though that was likely the best choice, they remained silent. Y/N’s panting could be heard as the wound was cleaned, stitched and patched up by her husband. Before long, it was over.

Marc moved to throw the medical tape down on the table next to Y/N, looking at the bandages to make sure they were secure, before nodding to himself. “You’re all good, baby,” he confirmed, moving his slightly bloody hand to cradle her cheek. Knowing that he was desperate for her touch, she didn’t mind. She closed her eyes slowly and sighed, moving her hand to hold his against her face.

“What would I do without you?” She mumbled tiredly, opening her eyes in order to gaze into his. He raised his eyebrows slightly, a teasing smile on his face, “well for starters you wouldn’t have gotten shot.”

“Your messes are my messes, Spector,” she smirked, bringing her hand up to play with the dark curls adorning his head. The look in her eyes was complete love and admiration, something Marc could just bask in for the rest of his life.

“How could I forget, Spector?” He teased back, leaning in to place his lips on hers.Their lips melted together as the hand on her cheek fell to her waist as his other hand became planted on the table near her shoulder. Her lips were warm and soft, contrasted to his rougher ones that moved steadily with hers. The kiss was filled with desperation on his part due to even the fraction of the thought that he could’ve lost her. She could feel this too due to the slight roughness he had in his acts.

He pulled away, leaning his forehead against hers with closed eyes, “as much as I enjoy this, we should probably stop.” Y/N hummed in agreement, trying to catch her breath.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Marc muttered, leaning up before picking her up ever so gently from the table. Placing her down onto their bed, he grabbed the Ibuprofen that took solace on his nightstand before grabbing a water bottle that was next to it. Handing her the pills, he uncapped the bottle, handing it to her while taking his pants off to lay comfortably in his boxers.

Soon enough, they both had settled into bed, Marc breaking the bad news that she should probably lay on her back to ensure the least amount of pain possible. Laying slightly awkwardly, they both fell asleep with Marc trying to stay awake for slightly longer before drifting off.

YN slowly peeled her eyes open the next morning, moving to stretch before wincing in pain at the temporary ignorance of her wounds. She sighed, looking at the spot behind her only for her husband to not be seen. She closed her eyes, basking in the dismal amount of sunlight that had graced London this morning. Taking a deep breath through her nose, a sweet aroma encompassed her. Before she could look further and focus on the kitchen, her husband appeared at the foot of their bed, with a plate and a mug in his hands.

Immediately, she knew it was Steven fronting. “You sleep well, love?” He had asked with a soft smile on his face, Y/N too tired to notice how it had faltered when his gaze fell on her wounds, given she had slept in the tank she wore the day prior. She nodded her head, a small smile on her face, “surprisingly so.”

“I made you breakfast,” he approached the bed, placing the stack of pancakes, with a cup of tea on the bedside table. “Sit with me, please?” She asked softly, Steven smiling at her words as he sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, carefully to not hurt her any further than he thought he already had.

They sat together in silence, with Steven closing his eyes and leaning his head on her uninjured shoulder and holding her tight, wanting to forget all of the bad thoughts he had about potentially losing her. He pulled away before kissing the back of her head. “I-I’m sorry about yesterday,” he muttered, swallowing deeply because of his nerves. Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, “what for, baby?”

He sighed, causing her to turn her head to examine his features, noticing the solemn look he held. “For not being able to protect you,” he avoided eye contact at all costs, almost afraid to see her reaction, to see her disappointment in him.

“Steven,” she spoke lightly, softening her gaze as she grabbed the hand that was placed lightly around her waist, “this is not your fault, or Marc’s.” Steven shook his head lightly, somehow not believing her words. He wanted to ignore this, grabbing the plate that he had placed on the bedside table and moving it into Y/N’s lap. He looked at the plate, closing his eyes momentarily to build up the courage for his words. “What’s the point in being an avatar if I can’t even do it right? When I can’t even protect you?” Steven’s voice cracked as his eyes welled up with tears at the thoughts of being the reason she could’ve died. He bit his lip as his throat began to hurt slightly. “Baby,” she spoke softly, turning her body slightly to face him a bit better. Her hand cupped his cheek, leading him to look into her eyes.

“Did you shoot me, Steven?” Y/N questioned with furrowed brows. “No, but-” he started shyly shaking his head, but she didn’t allow him to finish.

“Did you force me to go with you?” She interrogated again, narrowing her eyes. “No, Y/N but,” and again before he could finish his statement, she interrupted him. “Then it’s not your fault. I chose to be there. That’s on me, not you, not Marc, not Khonshu, but me,” she reassured, wanting to ease the anxiety she knew he had over this.

“But I could’ve saved you, I should’ve. I-” he spoke with the guilt still influencing his words.

“And I should’ve jumped three feet to the left but I didn’t. I should’ve not gone, but I did because I love my husband and can’t have him out there without me,” she spoke softer than before, moving slightly to kiss the cheek she wasn’t caressing. She smiled softly, brushing the dark curls out of his eyes. Steven mirrored her smile, not being able to handle her seeing his sorrow any longer.

Guilt still consumed him, but he chose to brush it off for now as Y/N repositioned herself, Steven moving to press his chin back onto her shoulder, “your husband loves you too.” She laughed softly at his words, “he better.”

“Now let’s eat before these get cold,” she patted the hand lightly that snaked its way around her waist. “After, we have to change those bandages- well Marc does, I’m not too good at that,” he spoke as he wicked up the fork, using it to cut a piece of the pancake before feeding her. As she finished chewing, he took a bite of the sweet breakfast he made. “Thank you, for all of this, taking care of me and stuff,” she thanked, fiddling with his fingers on her waist. He smiled, kissing her cheek and causing her to giggle, “anything for you.”

After their time together eating breakfast and chatting in bed, Steven excused himself to the bathroom. It was partially to gather himself and sit in his thoughts for a moment, but also so that he could have Marc take the body and maybe even give him advice.

He stood in front of the mirror examining the face that had the exact same features as his own. Before he could even begin to speak with Marc, Khonshu made his presence known, making the already small bathroom feel smaller to Steven.

“Look at what you’ve done to her,” the God spoke condescendingly, “you can’t even protect her in battle. What kind of Moon Knight are you?” Steven convinced himself that Khonshu’s words were true, further digging himself into a pit of despair that he couldn’t handle.

“Take the body Marc,” Steven couldn’t handle being spoken to like him, and hearing his horrible thoughts come to life. Marc knew this and took over as he was better at ignoring the God.

“I could’ve healed her and this wouldn’t have happened,” Khonshu spoke grandly, “you are a coward.” Marc couldn’t wrap his head around the words he had just heard. None of this made sense to him or added up in any capacity. Khonshu has never done or said anything of this nature before.

“Why do you care?” Marc sourly questioned, harshly glaring at the God. For once, Khonshu fell silent, not answering his avatar. Marc rolled his eyes at this, going to leave before Steven’s words stopped him.

“He loves her,” Steven mumbled feebly, causing Marc to snap his head to the mirror with wide eyes.

“No, no way,” he spoke more to himself, shaking his head and refusing to accept that reality. That thing, that God can’t feel love. “He lacks the capacity for that, buddy,” he didn’t want to accept this. He refused to accept this. Shyly, Steven continued, “a-ask him, then.”

With clenched teeth, Marc turned to face Khonshu, not wanting to consider this being a plausible reality. “It’s cause you love her, isn’t it?” He asked angrily, receiving no answer, but that was answer enough. He scoffed, “unbelievable. Thought you couldn’t feel anything.”

“Marc,” Khonshu began to speak, but Marc didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. “You leave her alone,” he demanded, “l-love her at a distance or whatever. Don’t fuck up her life like you did mine.”

Not wanting to receive an answer, nor expecting one, he left the bathroom to find the gauze and tools needed to aid his injured wife.

“Steven?” Y/N called out from the bed, wanting to know if everything was alright. Marc took a deep breath trying to reset after everything that just occurred. “Try again,” he spoke lightly, making an appearance with his hands grasping various medical supplies.

“Marc,” she smiled, happy to see him, “or is it Dr. Spector?” He chuckled with a slight smile, sitting on the edge of the bed as Y/N began to sit up slowly.

“You alright? You seem tense,” she asked after taking a onceover of his features. “Yeah, just worried about you,” he muttered, moving to examine the gauze and dressing that he covered her wounds with the night previously. She winced as he removed the medical tape, not looking forward to what was to come.

“I appreciate it much more than you know,” she expressed, making her body involuntarily go stiff before he could clean her wounds.

By the time he had finished cleaning her up, she had dozed off. He looked down at her, brushing his fingers along her jaw in a loving manner, glad that she was okay and didn’t have to experience more pain.

Letting out a sigh, he stood and gathered all of the supplies, organizing them and placing them on a nearby shelf. Grabbing the garbage and dirty gauze, he turned away from the bed to head towards the kitchen garbage bin only to see Khonshu watching over Y/N. Shaking his head and choosing to ignore it, Marc went through with his plans to throw away the supplies. Upon his return to Y/N, he had noticed that Khonshu had left, nodding to himself as he was glad to not have to deal with him. The last thing he had wanted to think about was that parasite in his life.

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unluckilyimnot · 2 years

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Hands headcanon || Bonten Trio

Rindou

Probably the one with the smallest hands between those three but they're pretty. He's the type to throw hands tho so they're usually damaged but he's taking care of it cause he cares about his image. Let them alone when it's too much. The type to steal hand cream sometimes too, but it's rare. He lets you patch them and it's almost a routine now cause small cuts and scratches happen a lot. You're not really worried, I mean it's a part of the job you know. When you hold hands, you can feel how callous they are and all the little squares on it. You like to slowly stroke it with your thumb. He loves it a lot when you do this and holding your hand is his favorite thing, like an intimate but easy thing to do. The way yours is always softer than his makes it even better, he loves your hands a lot.

Ran

Ran seems like the type to take such a good care of himself in general and his hands are important to him. He knows people usually like it so it pushes him to be careful if they're hurt, to take care of it well to the point where he puts hand cream on it every night you see. I love to imagine Ran doing a full night care routine. The biggest hands and he's proud of it. Compares his to yours all the damn time and loves to hold it cause it just feels so right to him. Run his thumb on the back of your hand all the time, it comforts both him and you. Die if you kiss his bruises and become all cocky yet clingy, like coo at you stupid shit but hold you so close you can barely breath. He likes to see that you care about him.

Sanzu

I think that, unlike the Haitani brothers, Sanzu wouldn't really take care of his hands. Like, if he's hurt he will probably patch it and stuff but he probably won't give it enough time to heal and so they always have scratches and cuts. They're honestly not doing great, even if you try your best to tell him to take care of it or do it yourself when he lets you. He's whipped for you, so he does let you but that's not really enough and you always feel bad when you see how damaged they are. You're always careful when you hold his hands and watch when you lay your fingers to not hurt him. He found it cut but he didn't really feel the pain anymore for small cuts.

Note: for those who know, I choose Yeonjun's hands from TXT for Rindou and it matches too well for my well being yes he's my bias

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harryissuchalittleshit · 7 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love

Okay, I’m going to be a cheater and do six because I can’t choose five. But they’re all one-shots so that can be taken however you want it to be.

it's always raining (whenever we're together)

This fic is the first in the Hufflepuff series and honestly a huge shift in my writing style and how I view characters. I created a background for two very minor characters that we only get a few small details of and I fell in love with them being together. Susan/Dudley are my favorite rarepair duo and they give me so much joy to write about. Susan is so stoic and headstrong, while Dudley changes so much as he grows older and educates himself. It’s a fic I’m really proud of even all these years later.

Apples (or not everyone believes in fairytales)

This is the first part of the Ravenclaw series, and Anthony Goldstein is such a minor character that we know nothing about. I love the parallels between the war and holocaust, mainly because of all the research that I put into it. Apples was an exploration into this quiet boy that listens and heals himself by healing others, he loves loudly after being forced into silence and he loves the stories his grandparents tell best, even though there not fairytales.

a curling crown lays atop my head

The Johnson-Weasley family is so interesting to me, and in reflection so are mother/daughter relationships as mine wasn’t always great but we’re healing that like Roxanne and Angelina. The use of hair as a metaphor wasn’t always attended, but it’s a connection that the pair of them share with only each other and the rest of the Weasley family doesn’t understand.

we’d still worship this love

I love Hinny, they are bold and stupid and reckless and funny, they also love so fiercely and protectively, especially each other. I love them so much in this fic and I had so much fun writing it and I don’t think I know of another “Hinny gets back together after the war” fic like this one.

Enough

Ginny is probably my favorite character in the whole series and in fanon, she’s funny and smart and deeply traumatized at eleven. She deserves better and I tried to give her some support, I also wanted to tell her side of the story, how badly that damned diary affected her. She will be haunted by Tom until her dying days, but she can push past that and live her life and be happy after he’s gone, because when Ginny says “enough” she means it

heatwave (the summer of '99 was full of ups and downs)

The summer of 99, the second summer after the war when the trio all live together and fight and hate one another while all being so in love with their closeness. Each of them struggle to be close to each other, but it only takes one moment to become best friends and it takes a drunken night of idiocy to stay best friends. That summer they realize that they would be friends even if the war didn’t happen.

Final notes:

I chose character studies for all six of these fics because I think my best stories are when I focus on characters themselves. I love the novels I’ve written for their plot, but I have always been drawn to strong characters and being able to give a little of myself to my writing always means so much to me.

I loved this ask so much and if I get this again I’ll give five different fics next time

#harry potter #head canons #my fics #ginny weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #anthony goldstein #susan bones #dudley dursley

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cpacs-blog · 10 months

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I Never Told You

An angsty af Petruo short-fic

Eld is sweaty and gray. He smells awful… like dirt and iron and rot, and this entire stupid hospital smells the same. Petra forces herself to sit close and to not throw up.

“You don’t have to speak,” she says quietly to him. She’s quiet because she doesn’t want to wake Eld’s nameless roommate behind the curtain, but that scout is dead already so it doesn’t really matter. “You’re healing. You don’t have to entertain me. You can rest.”

Rest… that’s selfishly the last thing she wants for her good friend. Eld’s serrated leg and his decimated arm are weeping blood and gathering infection and flies in this humid hell, but she can’t let him go just yet. If he rests, he might rest forever and that is unacceptable. She can’t bear his suffering but she can’t bear his loss either. She won’t get to choose.

He speaks, mouth gummy and slow. “-Y-You?”

“Me.” She holds his hand through her splints. “Broken arm. Broken wrists. Broken ribs. But I’m fine. It will heal.”

Eld surveys her and sees it is all true, she is broken, but she is still in one piece which is more than he can claim for himself. “Th- the others?”

“Eren’s safe.” That nosy, insolent shit. “We did it, Eld,” she beams. “We kept him alive. He can still fix the wall. Levi is fine too. And, well, Gunther…” She can’t pretend. They all saw it… Gunther’s swinging body, exsanguinating a faucet of blood. Eld’s delirious, but not to the point of true stupidity yet so she knows she can’t deny the obvious. “We cut him down and brought him back,” she reports instead. “He’s home. His grandparents have him now.”

“Quick? It was quick?”

“It was quick,” she assures.

He is only a little mollified and he tries not to think too much about it. “Ruo?”

Petra smiles, heart bursting. “He made it, Eld. He’s okay. He’s downstairs. He’s still a jackass.”

Good. That idiot annoyed Eld beyond what he thought was possible and yet Eld loved him completely. “Did he tell you?”

Petra squeezes Eld’s hand tight, fierce. “Yes. He did. He told me everything.”

Eld’s mouth lifts and he finally feels peace settle in his minced bones. “Thank god. I’ve been asking him to for years.”

~~~

The last thing she truly hears is Eld crashing to the ground in several pieces. He crumples and breaks; his limbs leave a gingerbread trail to his hemorrhaging body.

And Petra- young, idealistic, spritely Petra- is left to contend with a wash of adrenaline that freezes every muscle in her exhausted shell. She is in thin air but somehow underwater as sound and light delay their path to her senses. She watches the giant move towards her but she is a spectator outside her body, frozen and doomed.

So she doesn’t see or hear it. All she knows is she was middair and in the way for one heartbeat, then cartwheeling off course to safety the next. The moss receives her fall but she hits the ground hard enough it feels like cobblestone. Her arm is at an odd angle with the bone tenting her translucent skin. Her mouth pools with metallic blood.

Distantly, one explosion rocks the trees, then two titans. Goddammit, Eren. Petra rolls herself to look at the perfect blue sky and tries to tame her thundering heart. She is alive. She was in the way, but now she is alive.

He is too far away to properly see, kicked and painted across the forest trees. So she never sees him again, never hears his sarcastic and wry humor, his poorly concealed insecurities. He is gone from her, and she would lie to her last dying friend in the hospital a week later because they never brought the dead home. The cart never came; they left them where they lay. So she never sees or hears from him again, but she has the bruise of his handprint on her back that tells her everything she needs to know.

~~~

Eld dies before the oil lamp does. His fever breaks him and he sweats so much, Petra is sure he is deflating in front of her. It’s not noble or heroic: he weeps, thrashes, and relieves himself as his story closes around him. She sits and holds his hand until the end and covers him with a white sheet before she leaves the room.

Author’s note: thanks for reading my fic! I am procrastinating on real work and loooovvveee imagining/writing the angstiest, most emo shit imaginable when I’m tired. I hate that the og squad is dead: they would’ve been so cool to see develop in the later seasons. But as a hoe for unrequited love stories and someone who loves putting her favorite characters through hell for sport, I had to do this.

#petruo #oluo bozado #auruo bossard #petra ral #auretra #levi squad #eld jinn #gunther schultz #oluo bossard #attack on titan #im feeling angsty ok

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ialwaysknewyouwerepunk · 1 year

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hello i cannot stop thinking about the “this doesn’t happen to people like me” line and i need to talk about it, i hope you don’t mind. i watched it live and i was already close to tears but that absolutely broke me. you could hear him waver on whether to say it, how to say it. the camera was on adele as he did and you could see the beginning of the look of knowing on her face. he was so earnest and you could see fully the utter disbelief he felt. choosing to say it felt like him pressing his face up to a crack in his closet door and trying to say everything he could have said if he was on the other side. a sort of heartbreaking mix of “if only you knew, and if you knew would i still be here?” to the public that doesn’t know and an “im honored and grateful you know and i’m still here” to everyone else that does. it was just stupid brave of him and i’m so beyond proud.

same anon, apparently i wasn’t done. i also keep thinking about how he spent his first five years as a literal child in the industry being told in no uncertain terms that if he was out and if he was himself his career would be over. and now many people still don’t know but So Many do and he knows that and he’s still there and he’s more loud and wild and himself by the day and we’re Still Here. like that must be so unbelievably healing.

i think that’s all now. that line will stick with me forever. i love him to fucking bits he deserves the world.

"choosing to say it felt like him pressing his face up to a crack in his closet door and trying to say everything he could have said if he was on the other side"

what if i'm out. what if i'm someone you won't talk about.

wow. i also noticed the reaction on adele's face, and your feeling about the moment was mine exactly: debating whether or not to add it to his moment, to his thank yous. to met it be known. his voice so brittle, so insecure about letting it out. he knows how to say it during his shows, but on the grammy's stage it must have felt like something else completely. like his world of make-believe is pretty real after all.

he knows that we see him. those that know, know. it must be an incredible feeling for him, to be so accepted while pushing his own boundaries, or the boundaries that were set around his artistic expression. bc we can never forget how far he's come, and how huge it must feel to him to be able to be even a little bit open, a little bit himself. those on the outside have no clue at all, but us on the inside should also never stop appreciating his progress. no matter how sponsored by the azoffs it is. i mean it. it doesn't dim the light he's allowed to let shine brightly, finally, after all these years. and it's not even at its brightest yet

#kind anon #grammys 2023

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halfgood-halfbad-badboy · 6 months

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Love at first sight

This is a fic inspired by a hero villain rp that I am in :3 My buddy on discord helped me write some of Virgil's dialogue

(here is the ao3 link https://archiveofourown.org/works/48657763 )

Triggers: Vomit mention, broken bones, and implied abuse

Ships: Roman/Virgil

Summary: How the great hero DayDream met the newbie

(not beta read)

This sucked.

Roman was sent on a mission to stop and capture a speedster villain. The villain was one of the slower speedsters since they got all their power from their suit, and was considered a D-list villain. With his enhanced stamina and strength, Roman knew he could catch up to the speedster in no time. Though the hero agency had failed to tell their star pupil just how long the villain could run for.

After running the entire length of the city 7 times and running into a LOT of streetlights and mailboxes, the villain decided to run out of the city limits just as the sky was getting dark. Luckily for Roman, after 5 hours of running the boots that gave the villain their powers finally ran out of power letting Roman finally catch up with them.

Though thanks to his stupid human body (and the fact his broken toes haven’t healed fully from his last mission) he was exhausted from his all day marathon run across the city. Once Roman was finally able to throw a punch the villain pitifully pushed him down and started pounding at him. Punch after punch hit after hit till the villain finally had enough and decided to grab their things and leave.

Roman laid in the grass in some field unable to move thanks to his soar, exhausted body and his newly acquired broken ribs and mashed nose. Normally he’d just drag himself home but he couldn’t feel his legs and every neuron in his arms screamed in unison from pain.

“God this is annoying.” Roman thought out loud knowing no one was around to hear. “This will be easy," they said. “Just catch the villain,” they said. “Do a good job and you can have your birthday cake," they said." Roman knew they were lying from the beginning but he didn’t realize how much this would suck.

This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his birthday. He wanted to catch the villain, go home, eat his sugar free cake and hopefully be able to watch tv for the rest of the day. Maybe he would have gotten a present from his mom this year. After all, he's finally 17. He was so close to graduating the jr hero program and entering the adult one. He had always fantasized of hopefully being able to choose his own costume and maybe even getting his own room. He had even heard from some of the mentors that the hero’s in the adult league are allowed to have girlfriends or boyfriends! How amazing would that be to finally kiss someone.

Roman stared at the sky for hours waiting for the agency to send someone to grab him but as the moon settled just above his head he realized no one was coming. At least for a while. This was his punishment for letting the villain get away. Roman groaned at this realization and cursed out loud. “Oh yeah guys real fucking mature. What a great idea to leave me in a fucking field in buttfuck nowhere.” He felt hot tears run down his face. With this royal fuck up they’d surely push back his graduation.

Once the moon found itself vertical from Romans face he could hear someone walking up from behind. Panic shot through his body, he couldn’t turn his head to look at the possible danger and he was completely defenseless. Instinctively Roman shut his eyes tight waiting for the worst to come.

But nothing happened. Roman slowly opened his eyes to see someone with a flashlight scanning the area. The light passed over him and he could hear the person running to him.

“Are you ok? No, that's a stupid question- can you move?”

‘Oh fuck,’ Roman thought. ‘I’m fucking dead.’

Roman was never much for religion but this had to be an angle. Or at least some otherworldly being. No one alive could look like this. Someone much too pretty to be a part of this horrible world hovered over Roman asking him questions Roman couldn’t understand.

Yes, the bright orange suit hurt his eyes but their wonderful green and blue eyes and flawless dark skin made his heart race. Oh he wished he could understand what the other was saying.

For the first time that night Roman was able to force himself up to look at the other person better.

“Oh good you can sit up- here let’s get you back to base. Can you stand?”

Romans face flushed from how wonderful their voice sounded. Roman attempted to talk to this otherworldly being but the moment he opened his mouth he got too nauseous and threw up on the others shoes.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #hero au #villain au #sanders sides superpower au #superpower au #my post #my writing #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders

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just-a-creep-babe · 2 years

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Creeps as DnD Players!

A while ago, @scrollypoly mentioned something about the creeps playing a campaign and I just,,, loved that idea. So this is dedicated to them, hope you enjoy 🥺💗

Also the gifs included are what kind of dice I think they’d play with/main if they have multiple sets :”)

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

Jeff the Killer

Dude acts like it’s stupid & he was just roped into it by all the other nerds at the table

But he’s not fooling anyone—it’s obvious he likes it 😌👌

Definitely plays a barbarian, probably as one of the bigger/beefier races like a half-giant or half-orc or something

Unfortunately, you just know this mfer is always fighting the dm 😓

He often acts like he doesn’t care about the story or the npcs, but he pays very close attention when shit gets serious

Even when things are dire though, he can be so rude to npcs

Honestly, he’s just an absolutely bloodthirsty player trying to start fights all the time

His plans always include fighting

The party’s trying to stealth? Not happening with Jeff, he jumps the gun & almost immediately initiates combat

Claims to not care or believe in the dice gods, but he lowkey does

It sounds like he’s a bad player, but he really does care when it counts lmao

The creeps just need to stick a designated babysitter on him & they��re Gucci 😌👌

BEN Drowned

A very well-versed player

Knows the rules as well as the DM—sometimes even better

He’s also sUper fast at finding shit in the handbooks, it’s practically instantaneous

Has he memorized all the pages??

Plays almost any class, but he often goes for bards, warlocks or sorcerers—usually multi-classing either way

And he also often chooses tieflings or elves/half-elves, and often plays as a lady

He’s super smart, tactical & resourceful, and he’s great at strategizing

Also surprisingly organized

Easily memorizes all the city and town names, along with all the npcs, their roles & motivations, and any other lore about the world they’re in

You can BET he has one of the biggest dice collections known to mankind, and though he treats them nicely, it’s unknown whether or not he believes in the dice gods

He’s a really great player to have, no complaints here ^^

Eyeless Jack

He’s, ah, pretty clueless tbh

He had a few opportunities to play in college, but he always turned them down in favor of doing school work instead

Things need to be explained to him... a lot

It’s good to sit him next to BEN because he needs the extra help, like a clueless parent trying to understand their kid’s video game 😅

On the plus side, he’s great at babysitting Jeff ^^

Probably plays a dark elf/drow warlock because he wants a character that resembles him

But he ends up trying to heal people a lot, so he’d be better as a paladin or cleric, but ah well, the creeps let him have his fun <3

If an npc hits on him & he realizes what’s happening, he’ll get super flustered, and it’s sO adorable—makes it 10x more fun to tease him as a DM lmao

He loves learning about the ins and outs of the world’s functions—like how magic & crafting works

Sometimes, he asks too many questions though, like, Jack, buddy, it’s just a game; the DM doesn’t know how the quantum physics of the made-up world works :”)

His character’s somehow both quiet & mysterious, but also clumsy & stupid?

He’ll either roll 3 natural 20s in a row, or he won’t be able to get above a 5 to save his life :”)

We stan this clueless babe

Masky

He isn’t really all that into it tbh

Only plays because he’s got nothing better to do—but he’s always late or missing from sessions :/

Like Jeff, he instigates the DM a lot lmao

He’s always trying to make the strongest build with the best stats & abilities, even if it breaks the game, which is what causes him to bicker with the DM so goddamn much

He really gets in character when he wants things to go a certain way though

Probably plays a female dragonborn fighter—but sometimes forgets he’s a woman :”)

He doesn’t believe in the dice gods, but when his rolls are shit, he gets super mad and cusses them out, sometimes even throwing or breaking his dice lmfao

Speaking of, he loses/misplaces his dice very often

His bag is full of mismatched sets and chipped dice, and he somehow doesn’t own any d8 at all??

Ends up borrowing from BEN all the time

Someone help him :”)

Hoodie

He’s mostly just there to keep Masky in line, though he does genuinely enjoy the game

Also often shows up late or absent, but mostly just because of work & the fact that he’s always busy/sleep deprived

He’s a quiet player that melts into the background, but there’s no surprise there

Probably plays a human monk—likely a woman or non-binary character

He always carries healing potions to revive Masky, so he’s a pretty good support character as well

He doesn’t believe in the dice gods, but he gets such consistently good rolls that you’d swear he struck a deal with them at some point

And it’s not like his dice are weighted, either—he’ll use Jack’s dice that keep rolling nothing but 4s & 5s and immediately get a natural 20

His build isn’t necessarily made to stealth, but he really enjoys sneaking into enemy lairs

And he honestly just loves causing all sorts of chaos

There’s nothing more gratifying to him than saying he’ll do something and having everyone at the table screaming “NOOO—!”

He gets the crew into a lot of trouble, but he always manages to weasel out of it, so it works out?

He might also secretly misguide/lie to EJ just to cause more chaos and confusion

It’s pretty funny tbh

Ticci Toby

Oh he LOVES this shit

Looks up to BEN for knowing so much about the game and being so knowledgeable

He never really got the chance to play when he was younger, but he always loved the escapism, so playing now is a dream come true

He will absolutely blow off work to play just don’t tell Slender

Would likely play a tabaxi Druid of unknown gender, which isn’t a usual combination of race & class, but that’s what he wanted—he doesn’t care that it’s a bit unconventional

Might also end up multiclassing with the paladin class

He was just so stoked to play that he wanted a nice variety to explore every aspect of the game

Follows the rules very precisely and always listens to the DM except for when he loses concentration because of his ADHD

He also tries to be kind to everyone—unless someone’s a bigot/bully or power-hungry asshole

In which case, he will obliterate them

His character’s super strong tbh

He prays to the dice gods, but likely doesn’t actually believe in them

Also impulse buys dice all the time

But in his defense, he chews on them when he gets stressed/nervous, so he does need new ones all the time :”)

An overall great player to have at the table <3

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #dnd #slenderverse #marble hornets

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