#than the freaked out one. his natural state | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stararch4ngelqueen · 8 months

Note

For the Jason drabbles, what about Jason conforting/taking care of reader while they are sick or even on their period?

We love a supportive man. What he receives he gives back tenfold.

“Show me where, baby.”

His hand roamed along your lower abdomen, imagining the soreness in your tense muscles. The spikes of pain that riddled you bedridden during your most heavy days.

“Here?” He applies pressure, fingers rubbing circles down just under your stomach, along the spot near your hip bone.

“Oww, yes,” you whine, wincing from the pain before being soothed by his massage.

Jason knew what periods were. He knew it’s a natural thing women dealt with. He’s worked with women for years, alongside doing his own research on it during one time you hadn’t left your bed for a while, thinking you were sick at first. It was an.. interesting conversation with Babs over what more he could do to help that the internet didn’t tell him about those relentlessly heavy cycles.

Pain like this took a lot longer to be rid of than a heating pad would allow. Especially the good quality ones with different settings.

Or, if you want something different, something fun that he wouldn’t mind shoving into the microwave for a minute, he’d get you a heatable, plush teddy bear. Or a duck. Or a menstruation crustacean.

He had no idea what the hell that was until you showed him on the site. You received whatever you chose in a box nearly three days later from Prime shipping.

Don’t freak out about blood. Accidents happen. If you got some on the sheets, along his lap when he held you, or on the couch, he could’ve cared less.

He wouldn’t even point it out, if you didn’t know. If you did notice it, he’d immediately shush you in an consolation attack, hiding your shameful expression in the crook of his shoulder.

“Shh, baby,” he’d murmur in your ear. “Easy. Nothin’ I haven’t seen before. S’alright, it’s okay.”

With advice from Babs, he cooks a lot more iron rich meals for you a lot more during this time. Usually, it’s been a team effort. You cook, he cleans up, you wash dishes together. Vice versa.

This week, regardless if you suffer from irregular periods, he does it all. He’ll do it even if he was a walking zombie, he doesn’t care.

Jason will not, no matter what you say, let you lift a finger if he knows you’re in pain. He’s an expert of masking his own, he can tell when you do it.

This even goes if you’re not used to being babied, get used to it. You tend to him for weeks at a time in a single month alone, this is his way of saying thank you for it all.

“Bed.” Jason demands, not even having to turn around from his attention on the stove to hear your shuffling to the kitchen.

“But I’m—“

“I brought you a drink,” he replies. A cup of warm raspberry leaf tea sitting on your bedside.

“No, I mean—“

“I know it hurts, but you can’t take anything until after you eat,” Jason peers over his shoulder, seeing his olive green shirt loosely draped over your body. “Go back to bed, Princess.”

“Can I stay here?” You plea, making his shoulders slump with a sigh. Try as he may, your weakened state makes him more pliable to your every request.

Might as well, since you’re already up. Stubborn girl.

“Go sit on the couch,” he sighs, knowing a few comforters were folded up on the cushions. “Get comfortable, an’ stay there. Dinner’s almost done.”

Jason has pills, plenty of them. From plain Tylenol, ibuprofen, to doctor prescribed muscle relaxers, morphine, etc. All thanks to Alfred.

Broken bones or severe, suture required injuries would be the only times Jason felt complied to take them. He knew addiction, watching it first hand and being involved in it at one point himself. He only took them when he absolutely, positively needed it.

For you, if you needed something stronger, he’d give you half of one pill, or a full, single pill at most. No way would you ever fall victim to such a cruel, toxic routine. He’d keep them locked up, for both your safety and his.

After your said hearty, iron rich meal, you remained on the couch snuggled up together like true lovers.

His guilty pleasure during your period of vulnerability was how much you relied on him for comfort. Positions varied, but his most favorite would be your body laying in his lap as he lounged on his reading recliner.

A gray comforter over your shoulders, some fuzzy socks on your feet. The furnace you called your boyfriend leaving you nice and toasty, his hands settling along your hair and back, preparing to soothe and massage when needed.

He adored when you needed him, he loved catering to you. You were his woman, his little nurse turned patient.

This also sort of gave him an excuse to skip out on patrols, but he never voiced the reasons why he’s gotten calls about it. He just didn’t feel like it, refusing the idea of abandoning you late at night, leaving him tense and unfocused on his routine on if you needed something, and he wasn’t there.

The others, with their detective mindsets could figure it out for themselves as to why Jason didn’t show up on a Saturday night. Or a Sunday, and definitely not a Monday.

He had important priorities, after all.

Just him, you; snuggly comfortable and content, and your herbal scented, menstruation crustacean.

#jason todd x y/n #Jason Todd #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #dc jason todd #gotham knights jason todd #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd dc

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frogchiro · 1 year

Text

Putting a cockring on Simon :((

fem!reader, heavy nsfw, edging, Simon is mean at first but gets tamed easily enough <3

After the last mission he was simply insatiable; you don't really know what happened but after returning back to base he started acting like a animal in heat. Constantly following you around, or more accurately, lurking around base and stalking you like a predator. Everyone has been catching up slowly, even Price had to reprimand him because he started to freak out recruits. Not that Ghost cared, he just let out a huff and a non committed promise which he wasn't really honest with holding up in the first place.

The real thing was his sudden sexual appetite. Before you couldn't complain about it but now? It's like he's in heat; clingy and touchy in the privacy of your room, terribly possessive too, almost growling whenever he saw that someone was even talking to you.

As the resident hacker and technician of Task Force 141 you spend the majority of your time in the privacy if your own quarters which was a privilege that came with your workline. Therefore, Ghost was basically glued to your side, or more like trying to fuck :( He'd try to hump you, make you sit in his lap and thrust his hard cock against your clothed pussy, rumble in a deep voice how much he wants to cum in you and mark you with his seed :(

Usually you'd take your man up on the offer, the promise of hours of rough, passionate sex with your Si sounding like a dream but lately he's been taking it a little too far, his recent insatiable nature taking away precious time on work and while you'd like nothing more than take him up on the offer, it was impossible :(

He started to be a little cheeky too, even after a kiss and a gentle 'later baby' he'd still be insistent, grabbing your hips and trying to rut into you or even nudge you with his head, so after one too many times of trying to distract you, you finally had enough.

Believe it or not but putting a cockring on Simon 'Ghost' Riley was one hell of a job. Even while in this strange horny headspace he still had the balls to mock you. The thing is, even while basically desperate to stuff himself inside, Simon was terribly cranky, and a cranky Ghost was never a good thing. He was pent up, horny and due to that he was like a ticking time bomb ready to blow up.

Putting the cockring on him was a challenge but when you finally did it (by bribing him with sweet eyes and a sugary promise of nice hard fucking later) you thought you'd finally have some peace...or so you thought.

Now he's sitting in an armchair he himself brought into your room and put in right next to your desk and whining up a storm, begging for release :(( He'd be practically yowling, his large thick cock pulsing and cum dripping down his length, his pulsing balls hanging low and heavy with sperm he wants to stuff you with :(

You'd think you almost played yourself with that one. Almost.

As you glance sideways towards the large man who'd so so desperate for you, all the cocky, overconfident and almost aggressive attitude gone and replaced with this pathetic man who's begging you for at least a handjob, something he didn't even want to consider earlier in the day.

Now that you see into what state you can get the blonde man into, you now know that the cockring will be something that will now be a frequent thing in the bedroom <3

#kin speaks #hrrnnnn #been thinking about this the whole day #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley

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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months

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I desperately need tiger!hybrid Sukuna headcanons! Maybe a lil nsfw too ?

I...may have gotten a little carried away with the nsfw, my bad.

Now Loading...

Starring: My breeding kink Ryomen Sukuna, and his issues with authority.

He’s naturally very cat-like.

No, I’m serious the moment he sees you trying to focus on anything other than him he’s in your way.

He’ll put his entire upper body on you to try and distract you from your laptop, book, phone, whatever. If that doesn’t work, he’ll push a glass off the table. You will pay attention to him.

Tigers are mostly nocturnal, and so is he. He’s prone to waking you up at odd hours of the night just because he’s awake and doesn’t have good volume control.

He hisses at you when you try to get onto him. “NO Ryomen, no! Do not knock that vase over!” “Hissss” “Get pissy all you want, that was my moms!”

He’s horrifically protective of you. Like, genuinely it’s kind of a problem. He’ll growl lowly at anyone who comes within 10 feet of his darling, and he’s always willing to fight.

He always makes sure you’re in some article of his clothing. Drenched in his scent.

He loves it when you scratch his ears, it’s the fastest way to get him to purr. You can actually put him to sleep doing this

His tail is very sensitive. He loves when you gently play with it, but it always leads to more.

He has a scent fetish, and has been known to steal your dirty panties. You’ll go to do laundry and just sigh deeply when you find yet another pair filled with his cum.

He’s clear when he wants you. Circling you and growling softly, like a predator eyeing up his prey. That’s how you know you’re gonna freak nasty.

DEAR READER, did you know that in some cultural practices, namely Chinese, it’s believed that Tiger Cock is a very potent aphrodisiac?

Just the act of him being inside you drives you feral, even if you have no such instinct. He had the ability to put you in a heat-like state just by mating with you, making you both desperate for each other.

It’s never a quicky with you two, it’s a sex-a-thon.

BITING he has fangs and he wants them in you. He wants his marks to cover you and show that you’re his

He wants you in a mating press under him, screaming out his name while he fucks his cubs into you. You’d be so cute as a mommy

He’s not normally super big on kisses, but when he’s fucking you? Man can’t get enough of it. He’s kissing you, he’s rubbing his cheek on yours, he’s pressing his forehead to yours, he- hes scenting you. That’s what I’m trying to get at here, he’s scenting you.

His ears twitch when he cums, and his tail wraps around whichever one of your limbs it can reach.

And he can never stop there, no not at all. Better wake up mama, cause it’s gonna take more than one load to knock you up.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #tiger hybrid! sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #whats up nonny?

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atlabeth · 3 months

Text

northern attitude

geyser (where hurricane is introduced)

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: you and luke meet for the first time. (or luke saves you from a monster, you argue with each other the whole time, and he realizes that he doesn't want to survive alone anymore.)

a/n: by popular demand, hurricane is back for a sequel! and potentially more. lol. enjoy some insight into her (justice for weird little girls) and try not to think about the fact that she dies 6 years later! title comes from new england king noah kahan for these new england icons

wc: 4.6k

warning(s): some inner luke angst, monster encounter and short fight (luke gets a bit injured), they argue but in the fun way. they're just lil nine year olds

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Luke muttered.

He didn’t get an answer back. He was, after all, talking to a fish.

Maybe it didn’t like that he was a criminal. Luke had snuck his way into the New England Aquarium—he wasn’t going to cough up twenty-five bucks to look at marine life—in desperate need of a reprieve from the city, and he fought the urge to check his back every second. If there was one thing he’d learned from being on his own, it was that kids traveling alone always attracted attention. The last thing he needed was attention.

Talking to a fish probably wasn’t good for that, but Luke wasn’t exactly in the best headstate.

Because honestly, he didn’t really know what he was doing in Massachusetts. He tried staying in Connecticut after running away, but it still felt too close to home. He could still hear his mom yelling, could still see her glowing eyes. So he bought the cheapest bus ticket he could find to Boston, hoping a state in between would help.

That was the second thing he’d learned while traveling on the road: everything was way too expensive. And for a kid with no job living off the allowance he’d saved up and some extra money he took out of his mom’s wallet, that wasn’t great. If Luke couldn’t get something dirt cheap, he stole it. His father may not have answered any of his prayers in the past few years, but at least he had naturally quick fingers.

Luke sighed as he turned away from the fish, who was clearly not interested in striking up a conversation. He weaved his way through the crowd as he tried to think of where to go next—it wasn’t the smartest decision, but he was tempted to get a little whale plush from the gift stop—when he heard the middle of a conversation.

“You made a mistake coming here, dearie.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as Luke froze in place. He couldn’t even murmur an apology to the people who bumped into him because the gears in his head were turning rapidly.

“Let go of me—” a voice protested in response.

“Quieting down would do you some good. Did your mother not teach you manners?”

He was still trying to see who it was when he finally found it. A middle-aged woman moved through the crowd with a girl around Luke’s age, her hand wrapped tightly around the girl’s arm. Her nails were more like claws, and she had a strange gait that she tried to cover up. That was when he knew.

See, Luke had gotten used to distinguishing creeps from freaks with all his time on the road. Cutting a monster down would turn them into dust—normal humans would call the police. And if there was anything more dangerous for a runaway juvenile than monsters, it was the police.

But if a monster had ignored every single person in this building to get to you, it meant he’d somehow stumbled his way into the path of another half-blood. And Luke wasn’t going to let another half-blood die right in front of him.

So he took a deep breath, hoped the five second plan he made up in his head would work, and moved in.

“May, where have you been?” Luke tried to put on his best brother voice, and made himself as imposing as a nine year old could be. He didn’t focus at all on the monster, instead communicating to trust him as much as he could with his eyes. “Mom’s been worried sick!”

Both you and the woman turned to look at him, and Luke immediately knew he made the right choice from the blatant fear in your expression.

“Sorry,” you said, letting your shoulders fall and your gaze drop to the ground. Luke tried not to let his relief show over you playing along. “I really wanted to look at the sea turtle—”

“You should’ve said something instead of just wandering off,” he insisted. “We can all go look at it together—once Mom is done lecturing you, at least.” Luke took your hand and you let him pull you over to his side, positioning himself in front of you ever so slightly as he looked up at the woman. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her. I appreciate it.”

“You should be more careful,” she said eerily. It felt as if she was staring right into his soul. “You never know the kind of things that are out there.”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “Sisters, am I right?”

As soon as they were out of hearing distance, he lowered his voice and tightened his grip on your hand. “Come on. Try and look casual.”

“You know what she is,” you whispered.

“Yes,” he said, then he shook his head. “I— not exactly. But I know she’s a monster.”

“I knew it,” you muttered with vindication. Luke felt your eyes on him. “So you’re like me?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“One of your parents is—” You stopped, as if you still weren’t sure.

Luke knew the feeling all too well—desperately trying to tell someone what he was only to be met with that look adults loved to give. You’re clearly talking nonsense, but I feel bad for you so I’ll humor you. And all the normal kids he’d tried to tell the truth to thought he was just playing a game.

“A god,” he finished quietly. “Yeah.”

You started to look back, but Luke stopped you.

“Don’t.” Their chances of getting attacked in a place so full of people was lower, but Luke had dealt with some particularly bold monsters. One able to disguise themself as a human would have an advantage—Luke learned people hated listening to kids, especially ones they could pass off as delusional. “You don’t want her to catch on.”

“Who are you?” you asked.

“My name’s Luke,” he said. “What about you?”

You said your name, then you glanced at him. “You know a lot about all of this. More than me.”

“Are you a runaway too?”

You nodded, and a part of his heart broke. You had no right to be out here, not when you were so young.

And he says so, too. “You shouldn’t be out here on your own. It’s dangerous.”

You frowned. “You’re out here on your own too.”

“I’ve been on my own for a few months,” he said. “I know what to expect. How long have you been out?”

You shrugged. “A week.”

Luke let out a ragged sigh. “You’ve got bad luck if monsters are already coming after you.”

“They already have,” you murmured, and you looked back at him. “How old are you if you’ve been doing this for months?”

Luke frowned. “Nine. How old are you?”

“I’m also nine,” you shot back. “So you can’t say anything to me.”

He opened his mouth to retort—Luke hadn’t been a child in years, not since Hermes left him alone with a cursed mother and a burning rage inside of him that he couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard he tried. But if you chose to run away from home too, then you were in the same boat. Kids like you two didn’t get to be kids.

“Fair,” he conceded. “But it’ll be a lot easier to give her the slip if we work together.”

“…I can deal with that.” You cleared your throat. “Thank you for saving me, though. I… I just froze.”

“It happens more than you’d think,” Luke muttered. “We have to throw her off our trail, though. She’s not gonna be happy.”

“She’s probably ecstatic,” you said, shaking your head. “She’s got two kids to eat instead of one.”

“Aren’t you an optimist?” he remarked.

You chuckled. “Sorry. It hasn’t been a great day.”

“It’s fine.” Luke didn’t know the last great—god, even good—day he’d had, even before he ran away. Honestly, this conversation with you had been the highlight of this month. “But we can’t just leave. She has our scent, so she’ll be on us as soon as we’re on our own. It’ll be even easier out in the open. We’ve gotta set security on her trail to get her off ours.”

You nodded as you turned another corner. “We should get to the gift shop. It’ll be less populated, but still enough to hide us.”

Luke nodded. “Smart. And security’ll have an easy path there in case of shoplifters.”

“So tell a sob story, get security, set them on her,” you said, looking at him.

“Then get the hell out of here,” he agreed.

“Think we can get a souvenir for the occasion?” you asked. “We’ve probably earned it with all this dodging.”

Luke thought about that whale plushie again. “Maybe.”

“The stairs are that way.” You gestured with your head, and Luke turned—he’d been going the completely wrong direction.

“Thanks,” he said. “You know this place?”

“I’m from Boston,” you nodded. “And I’ve been here a lot with my mom.”

Luke figured he should have guessed by the accent. He didn’t know how long he was going to stay, but it would be useful to have someone with him who knew the city.

“You’re still pretty close to home,” he noted.

You shrugged. “I’ve been doing all the things I’ve wanted to do now that I’m officially on my own. I know I’m gonna have to leave eventually, but…” you sighed and shook your head. “I guess I’m scared. Brave enough to run away but too scared to make it official.”

Luke understood that more than you could know. It took him feeling like he was going to burst out of his skin before he got the strength to leave Connecticut.

“You don’t wanna leave your mom,” he guessed.

You nodded. “I love her more than anything, but I’ve already put her in too much danger. I’m leaving until I can figure out how to keep her safe.”

You’re a kid, Luke wanted to say. It should be the other way around. But he’d already been hypocritical enough for today, and you’d probably say the same.

“That’s sweet,” he said. “Stupid, but sweet.”

“We’re both nine-year-old runaways,” you said. “You don’t get to tell me what’s stupid.”

He chuckled and shook his head, letting the matter drop as you finally got to the gift shop. Luke had been stressed about how to strike a balance between cautious enough to keep your backs covered but confident enough to not be questioned, but it turned out talking with you was all he needed.

On the way to the front, Luke caught sight of a whale plushie. His fingers itched to grab it, but he kept his eyes on the better prize of not dying and came to a stop at the cash register.

“Hi,” Luke said, getting the attention of the employee at the front, hoping he sounded adequately fearful. “There’s a woman out there that tried to get my friend to go with her. Tall, middle-aged, dressed in grandmother-y clothes with glasses. She grabbed her arm and threatened her.”

“You kids aren’t joking around, are you?” the cashier asked.

“No,” you said, and Luke was shocked by how close to tears you sounded. “It was really scary— my parents were in the bathroom and I was waiting for them, and she just looked so nice, but—” somehow, a tear actually fell from your eye as you let out a sob— “but she tried to take me away.”

The woman shook her head as she went back and grabbed a walkie talkie from below the register. The moment she turned away, you glanced at Luke and nodded, and he just stared in awe. She relayed Luke’s description then said a couple other things, then she crouched down to be on their level to look you straight-on. “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in the bathroom on the second floor,” you provided. “We came here because we didn’t know where else to go.”

She sighed, falling for every part of it. You were much better at garnering sympathy than Luke was. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I called our security— they’ll be here in a second to get a statement from you.”

You nodded, sniffling a bit as your lip quivered. “Thank you. I— I just want my mom.”

The employee put her hand to her heart, and when you went for a hug, she reciprocated. “Don’t cry. You’re gonna be safe, okay? I’ll wait with you until security gets here. One of our guards is already out there looking for her.”

“Okay,” you agreed. Luke caught your eye from behind her back, and you dropped your act in a second to smile knowingly at him. He just shook his head with a slight smile of his own—you were good at this.

Eventually, two security guards arrived—Luke doubted they would be good for handling a shoplifter, much less a mythological monster—but they took yours and Luke’s statements, and were about to leave before you spoke up.

“Our parents are definitely looking for us,” you said, already back on the verge of tears. “Can— can you take us to them? When they went to the bathroom, we were by the coral reef.”

“‘Course.” One of them nodded and looked at his partner. “I’ll get them back to their parents—you look for the suspect.”

After a short discussion, the three of you set out, you still holding Luke’s hand as he leaned closer to you.

“On my signal,” he murmured. “We’re gonna blend into the crowd and get out of here.”

You nodded. You were so close to the exit, but you allowed the guard to take you up the stairs, and thankfully the crowd around the middle of the giant ocean tank was huge. Luke counted off quietly, and when he got to three, you split off, blending into a group of kids on a school field trip to get back to the stairs.

You started moving at a much quicker pace, the exit within your sights, but just as they were about to make it, Luke spotted their monster. And now, she was definitely a monster—Luke couldn’t remember the name, but she’d shed her disguise, looking like some kind of bird-human hybrid thing. It didn’t really matter in his opinion, because she really looked like she wanted to kill the two of you.

Luke cursed and grabbed your arm, immediately pulling you flat up against the wall with him. “She’s here.”

“We told security about her,” you protested. “How hard could it be to find her?”

“A bit harder when they’re gonna be seeing something different.” Luke glanced at you. “You said you’ve already dealt with monsters before.”

You nodded.

“Do you remember feeling like you were the only one who actually saw what was happening? Like you saw the monster for what it was while it was trying to kill you, and everyone was still freaking out, but not as much as they should have been?”

You nodded again.

“Well, that’s a thing. Normal people can’t see what monsters really look like—only we can.” Luke peeked his head around the corner again. “And if she’s shed her disguise, it means she wants to go in for the kill. And it means we’re completely on our own.”

“We’re not on our own,” you said. “We’ve got each other.”

Luke found himself smiling. It had been a while since that was true. It had been a while since he’d smiled.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “And it’s harder to kill two half-bloods than one.”

He poked his head out again and immediately withdrew it, cursing under his breath as he stared up at the ceiling. “I never should have come to this city.”

“Excuse me?” You stepped away from the wall as your brows furrowed. “Boston is the greatest city in the world.”

“If you’re gonna be wrong, be wrong quietly,” Luke urged, gesturing with his head for you to get back. “And you are wrong, by the way.”

“I’m not wrong.” You crossed your arms, refusing to budge. “Did you know that we have the first public park? And the first public school! And we have the T! Where are you even from?”

“We can talk about this later,” he insisted. “We’re trying to hide. Have you ever hidden before?”

“We don’t need to hide when you’ve insulted my Commonwealth’s honor,” you said. “Especially when you’re in our aquarium. Where are you from to be talking so badly about the Bay State?”

“Connecticut,” he finally said, hoping that would get you to finally quiet down, but that only ramped you up further. “Place called Westport.”

“Connecticut?” you marveled, throwing your hands up. “You’re from some podunk town in Connecticut and you’re insulting Boston?”

“Okay, Westport is not a podunk town—” Luke started, but he didn’t get the chance to finish defending his hometown before he caught sight of their monster—and she’d caught sight of them.

Luke cursed even harder under his breath with words no nine year old should have known, then he grabbed your hand and pulled you along into a jog, interrupting your immediate protests.

“She’s got us pinned,” he said, trying to keep his voice low enough to not be detected while making sure you could hear him. “Together, our scent is too strong. We’re not gonna be able to lose her—we’ve gotta kill her.”

“Could the fish help with her knowing where we are?” you asked as you started running with him. “Because they’ll be happy to help us. They don’t like her either.”

Luke did a double take. “What?”

“I can hear what they’re saying,” you said, as if it were completely normal. “It’s a little overwhelming with so many in one place, honestly.”

If they weren’t on the run from a monster, Luke would have worried a bit more about the fact that you were crazy. But he wasn’t awarded those kinds of luxuries these days.

“We’ll—” Luke let out a sigh, because what did you mean that you could hear what fish were saying (especially because they clearly weren’t conversation prone)— “we’ll get out of here, and get the upper hand, and we’ll kill her. Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded. “But Boston is still the greatest city in the world.”

He huffed, taking his eyes off the path forward for a moment just to look at you. “Are you seriously still on this?”

“Of course. We also have the greatest baseball team in the country.” You gestured with your free hand. “Do you see how many people here have Red Sox hats on?”

Luke laughed out of pure shock. Was this the kind of stuff he’d been missing out on while traveling alone?

“Listen,” he said. “If we get out of this alive, you can tell me all the Red Sox facts you want. But we actually have to work together through all this. Deal?”

“Deal,” you said immediately. “You’re way more focused than I am.”

Luke let out a loose breath and shook his head. “Well, I’ve had to be. Do you have a weapon?”

“I took a kitchen knife before I left,” you said, “just to be safe. It’s worked pretty well.”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“I’m really good at chopping vegetables,” you said. “And I killed a monster with it the other day.”

“Glowing reviews,” Luke chuckled. “I’m pretty good with my sword, so we should be okay.”

“You’ve got a sword? How?”

“...My dad left it for me before he left,” Luke said. “I guess he wanted to do one good thing for me in his life.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. Luke offered a tight smile.

“Doesn’t matter much anymore,” he said. “Soon as we get outside, we get to the street and get to some empty alley. We hide on either side, wait for her to find us, then take her down. Okay?”

You nodded resolutely. “Let’s do it.”

The beginning of the plan wasn’t too difficult. Your faces would probably be plastered all over the place once the staff realized you were missing, but that was a problem for another day. You knew the area well so you took charge—and you took the time to spout random facts about the city on your way, of course, like a nine-year-old tour guide—and soon enough they were indeed in an empty alleyway.

You and Luke stood on each side, weapons in your grasp now that you weren’t surrounded by a whole aquarium of people, and he watched as you stared straight ahead, trying to keep your breathing steady. Besides the whole hearing fish thing, you seemed pretty well-adjusted for where you were.

But then again—you’d only been at this for a week, and the way you talked about your mom, your home life was the complete opposite of his.

Luke shook his head. It didn’t matter what your life was like—you both ended up in the same place.

His thoughts were mercifully ended when Luke heard sharp nails scratching against the brick of the alleyway. He grimaced, his grip tightening on his sword, and he looked over at you. Your eyes were slightly wide, but you nodded when he did. You were ready.

“You two are clever,” the monster sang, her voice just as grating as her nails against the wall, “but I never miss a meal. And those measly workers just wouldn’t sate my appetite.”

Her steps got closer and closer, and Luke held his breath. Right before she would be able to see you both, he yelled, “Now!”

You were out first, immediately lashing at her with your knife. She took the cut against her shoulder and slashed at you in turn, but you dodged out of the way, giving Luke a chance to come in with his sword. But his angle was off, and she deflected the blow then sunk her claws into his arm. Luke cried out, landing a kick on her chest as he ripped himself out of her grasp, but her focus was already back on you.

You stabbed at her with your knife and actually landed it in her chest, but it wasn’t Celestial bronze—all it did was make her angrier. She screeched and tackled you to the ground, knife still sticking out of her, claws poised to rip your throat out. You grit your teeth as you wrestled her arms away from you, but your strength was fading fast.

Luke’s eyes widened and he grabbed his sword from the ground. He wouldn’t make it in time, but you could.

He called out your name and threw his sword, and you didn’t even have to look to snatch it out of the air. Storms raged in your eyes as you stabbed the monster through the side.

“You shouldn’t have come here, dearie,” you spat.

The monster’s scream dissolved with the wind as she exploded into dust, dousing you in yellow powder. The sword fell out of your grip as you coughed, and you just laid on the ground, drained.

“Gross,” you grumbled.

Luke wiped his hand across his forehead as he fought to catch his breath, ignoring the blood seeping down his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said between coughs. “I’m great.”

Luke went over and offered his hand, and he pulled you up after you took it. “I’m so sorry. I guess I’m a little rusty.”

“Neither of us are dead, are we? I’d say it went pretty well.” You grimaced as you wiped the powder off your face, groaning again. “This is gonna take forever to get off.”

Luke chuckled as he took his backpack off and took out a towel, which you accepted gratefully. A demigod always had to be prepared. “You say you’ve only been on your own for a week?”

You nodded as you started cleaning your face and arms off. “Not my first monster, though.”

“It never is,” he murmured. Luke tipped his head back towards the sun and closed his eyes, letting out one final, long breath as the buzz from battle started to fade. And along with that, his adrenaline—the wound on his arm began to sting, and he sighed. He really didn’t feel like dealing with that.

“You’re hurt,” you said, and Luke opened his eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “They’re surface level.”

You frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve stitched myself up a few times, and this doesn’t need them,” he said, his lip curling at the memory. He was not a very good doctor. “I have some first aid stuff in my bag—once we get out of here, I’ll fix it up.”

“You said we,” you said.

Luke blinked. “I did?”

You nodded. “When we get out of here.”

He blinked again. He didn’t even notice—didn’t even really think about where you would go after the monster was dead. It was kinda sad, but Luke was pretty sure he’d smiled and talked more in this one hour with you than the past few months on his own. He’d already started thinking of you and him as a collective.

“What d’you think, then?” he asked. “You wanna stick together?”

You frowned. “You’re willing to kick it with a girl you just met?”

He shrugged. “You fight well, obviously. And you’re way better at making people feel bad for you than I am. That’s useful when you’ve got nothing.”

“We’re kids on our own,” you said. “It’s not that hard to get pity points.”

“I’ve been told I’m… abrasive,” Luke said. “Besides, I like you already. You were arguing for your baseball team while running for your life. It’s annoying, but impressive.”

“People also say that about me,” you said sagely. Luke smiled and held out his hand more.

“So? You wanna join forces?”

You stared at it for a while. “Even if I spend the next couple of hours telling you all about the Red Sox?”

Luke chuckled. “I did say you could if we got out of this alive. And I feel pretty alive.”

It took you another second, but you nodded intently and shook his hand. “Then you’ve got yourself a deal, Luke.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, his smile widening.

You handed him the towel and he went to put it back in his bag when he saw the… souvenir he’d taken before you left the gift shop. He grabbed the whale plushie that had been on his mind all day and held it out to you. “Here.”

You frowned. “When did you even have the time to get this? You definitely didn’t pay for it.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s playthings,” he said. “They won’t miss it. It’s a much better use marking the start of our friendship. Besides,” Luke shrugged, “you did say you wanted a souvenir.”

You smiled as you took it. “Looks like we’re a trio, then.”

“Welcome to the team,” he said with a grin. “It’s a small one, but I think we’ll make it work.”

“Me too,” you nodded. “And it’ll be nice not being alone.”

Luke thought back to all the nights spent sleeping under bridges, commandeering benches, purposefully choosing overnight buses so he would have somewhere to rest. Constantly watching his back because he had no one else, wondering if each night he camped in the woods would be his last.

He looked at you, a girl who ran away from home because she didn’t want to hurt her mom. Your clothes were covered in yellow monster dust, sweat dripped down your forehead, and Luke had nearly gotten you killed—but you were still smiling. And he found himself smiling too.

“Yeah,” Luke murmured. “It will be.”

#i suck at writing fight scenes no one come for me please and thank you<3 #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes #ialwbty

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messylustt · 10 months

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what you remind them of. spiderverse

you reminded hobie brown of stickers. in a figurative sense, but also a literal. the way you could be placed anywhere and still be recognisable to him. some days he saw a pattern, etched into the way you smiled. other days he saw colours, reflected from the way you felt. blue, orange, pink, green. the changeable nature has him reeling and intrigued. he wants you to decorate his life, or at least his guitar. with your careful fingers, options of cartoon characters or skulls being plastered to one of his most prized possessions. he loved it. the way you’d change, matching his inconsistent attitude. and when the stickers would begin to ware and peel, he never once chose to remove them. because the reminder that you’d stay, his want for you to stay made his ringed fingers dance over the simple stuck cut outs.

you reminded miguel o’hara of sugar. sweet of course, but something his tastebuds had to get used to. he wasn’t a sweet tooth at first. finding your sugary tone and sweet sweet smile something hard to stomach. maybe deep down it was because he secretly craved something of that flavour, that taste. he tried to keep his diet free from you, ignoring his salivating mouth. but he had to give in, he just had to with the way he knew your skin would be exactly what he needs his tongue to feel. his life lacklustre, filled with bland foods and even blander friendliness. you were a breath of fresh air, something he knew he’d grow addicted to. his sweet tooth was now prominent, obsessed with you day after day.

you reminded lyla of tears. something she physically couldn’t compute. the way the water droplets would fall, staining your cheeks and creating a morning dew feel to your eyelashes. when she first saw them, her instinct was to reach out. her code told her she couldn’t wipe your eyes but her want told her she could. so pretty when you’d either cry from joy or sadness. though most of the time alone, lyla would be watching. tears…your tears were something she remembered. strangely it didn’t compare to others. some would wail, sniffle, exclaim. but you would sit, blinking, and letting the tears slowly make their descent down your face, coating your lips in a shimmer that made her want to lean in.

you reminded miles morales of shoelaces. specifically his shoelaces. the amount of times you’ve reminded him to tie them has been endless. your subtle gestures or raises of your brows, has earned him to glance down. sometimes he’d catch you, fingers out as you lean to do them yourself. but he’d never want you to do the work so he’d poke his finger against your head, moving you back. now you’d call him stupid, he’d call you a little neat freak, while stumbling over his untied laces. your smug smile would earn a flustered but still stubborn state from him. but just to annoy you a step further he’d always be tying your shoelaces, neglecting his own in a way of saying ‘your safety is more important than mine.’ which would result in a round about way of you pointing out the ‘safety’ of it while threatening to have them glued.

you reminded miles morales earth-42 of paint. the kind that’s messy and creates large artworks. your face might be stained with colour, your fingers most definitely so. with raised brows and a frown he’d point out your never ending strokes. you’d bring colour to his world, hellbent eventually, as he’d push off the idea for what feels like eternity. but slowly, gradually, would he find your paints staining his skin, matching graffitied art like a tattoo. surprisingly he wouldn’t wipe it away, tracing the mess with a prowler claw. you were a mess, all over the place, he made that clear to you. but what he doesn’t tell you is the way he’s kept your messy paintings for himself, subtly letting you paint and create at his home. he may not admit to it, but you’ve painted your heart, a pretty thing that he’s kept all for himself.

you reminded pavitr prabhakar of shells. the kind of seashore ones found at the beach. it’s a new scenery from what he’s used to. you seem to always have this saltwater scent, fresh and inviting. with smiles he’s spoken to you, listened to your voice like the shells that float out into the ocean, dragging him with you. he likes the feel of the sand between his toes. he also likes the pretty patterns that would imbed themselves into the ground. you were like a shell, pretty and something he always loves to find. he liked to treasure the shells he’d find, keep them safe. collections like the collections he’d want to keep of your words. tucked safe into his pockets. your intriguing secrets with the sound of ocean that you’d hear when you press your ear to a larger shell matched perfectly.

you reminded gwen stacy of neon lights. bright and colourful. you were something that made her eyes widen as she stared. like a club street light, you’d invite people in. even inside the club with the flashing lights, you’d keep people entertained. she always stood by you, soaking in your colourful rays. she may even gain inspiration for her hair, the tinges of pink that would stain your lips made her want to match. you were alive in the night, her favourite pastime just flying through the city with you as her guide. even if it would rain you seemed to shine, your smile only making her eyes reflect colour. you made her feel excited with your hooded gaze. you even met under a neon street sign, ready for a mission in the dark. a mission she’ll never forget.

you reminded peter b. parker of a pillow. comforting and something easy to rest his head on. you’d feel him doze off on your shoulder, maybe even your lap. small dribbles of drool would make you smile at just how easy it was to get him to sleep if you were in his reach. even your clothes reflected comfort, his hands gravitating towards you. he almost always kept you tucked to him like a carry on pillow. a pillow mayday seemed to enjoy too, as she’d crawl all over your shoulders, your secure hands making sure she didn’t fall. she may even think you bigger like a bed, as she’d jump excitedly in your arms. not to mention your soft skin, his fingers tracing over like a silk slip.

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 13 days

Text

We need to talk about this

because Yuuri's reaction here is a result of his anxiety disorder and his tendency to self-deprecation and having depressive thoughts. That he ends up here is being carefully foreshadowed throughout the series:

First, Viktor said a couple of things that made Yuuri believe that Viktor only wants to coach him until the GPF:

This

and this

is enough to convince and anxious person like Yuuri that Viktor has no intention to coach him beyond the GPF. Note that Viktor never explicitly states that he will coach Yuuri only for the first half of the season - it's the natural conclusion an anxious brain will draw. And that's neither Viktor's nor Yuuri's fault.

And then this, while Yuuri is within hearing distance:

I'm getting a queasy feeling in my stomach just from watching this scene because I relate to Yuuri so much. If I had eavesdropped on this interview, I would have freaked out internally. Like what does that even mean? Is he talking about his career or is this a carefully crafted answer to convince the press to leave him and Yuuri alone for the next couple of weeks? This secret is probably between Viktor and the YOI creators alone (I have theories, but I'm not going to discuss them here because this post is about Yuuri).

Second, although he becomes more confident throughout the show, the self-deprecating part of Yuuri has a low opinion about his own skating. From his perspective, his contribution to the sport seems less valuable than Viktor's, even when he starts to understand that he's far more than a dime-a-dozen skater. The realisation that he is as least as talented as Viktor, only drives home the moment he breaks Viktor's world record.

Because Yuuri has such a low opinion of himself, he doesn't understand how much Viktor enjoys watching him skate, which is another aspect factoring into his decision.

Third, Yuuri genuinely believes that Viktor wants to return to the ice and would rejoice when Yuuri retires. Having seen Viktor watch the other skaters at the GPF cements the decision he made at the Rostelecom Cup. The fact that basically everyone has told him throughout the last 11 episodes that he's keeping Viktor from skating gives more weight to the idea.

Yes, you got that right. Yuuri deided to retire, before he proposed to Viktor and before he bought two matching rings and put one of them on Viktor's finger. However, now Yuuri knows that Viktor would coach him for as long as Yuuri wants to keep skating, which forces him to release Viktor from his duties at the point he believes Viktor wanted to stop coaching him initially.

"Let's end this" is not about breaking up. Yuuri is releasing Viktor as his coach. He is sacrificing his career so that Viktor can keep pursuing his own career which Viktor once sacrificed for him.

Of course he's surprised that Viktor bursts out in tears.

Yuuri has the right to retire whenever he wants. He doesn't need to consult Viktor. If he thinks (for whichever stupid reason) it's time, he can make this decision on his own.

Is it selfish?

Lol no. Only Viktor thinks it is because he's conflating the coach and the partner and takes it personally. He's hurt and feels rejected because he doesn't understand that Yuuri did it for him and that causes a drama Yuuri was not prepared for.

Is it stupid?

Absolutely. But poor communication skills, Yuuri is too caught up in his mental issues to even think of having a discussion that would lead them to a solution with which both would be happy (both training in St. Petersburg *wink* *wink*). It's not malice, insensitivity, or shitty behaviour that drives Yuuri to this point. It's all about his mental issues. And love.

#yuri on ice #yoi #yoi meta #my yoi meta #katsuki yuuri #viktor nikiforov

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redbleedingrose · 5 months

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Hey it’s the anon that had the nightmares. Headcanons about dealing with nightmares would be absolutely amazing if you’re up for it, thank you so much. You truly have no idea how much you’ve helped me 🥺

Of course dear!!! Here you go!!! (sorry this took so long sweetheart)

Edit: This ask has been sitting in my drafts for months and I am so sorry I didn't post it until now. Writers block and general insecurity does crazy things to me.

How the Bat Boys would help you with your nightmares!

Rhysand

Okay, the thing about Rhys is that I think he remains fully aware of your presence at all times, even in his sleep. He can feel you next to him, your body pressed against his, your heart beat thumping at his side, the weight of your head on his shoulder, he can feel it.

He also, is very in tune with your emotional state. Maybe it has to due with your mating bond, but tbh, I think his love for you has brought him a number of powers that allows for the deepest sort of connection to you. He can feel the emotions that you feel. It can go as far as Rhys feeling the roof of his mouth ache when you burn your mouth from drinking too hot tea, it can go as far as him feeling like someone has poked him hard when he is entirely alone in his office (when it is Cass who is poking at you, whining at you to share your summer imported mandarain oranges with him) and if Rhys really sits on it, he can also feel your mixed emotions of amusement and teasing towards Cass in that moment.

So I think that if you were having a nightmare, Rhysand would know. He would feel your heart racing from fear, it would make his own stutter. He would feel the panic pumping through your veins, and it would nearly send him into a frenzy.

Rhys would be awake, shushing your tired whines, and peppering the softest kisses all over your face to slowly ease your mind. The high lord of night would absolutely slip into your mind like butter, easing all the fired up neurons that have built up from your nightmare, slowly detangling the knots of emotion twisted inside your mind without waking you. He would pull you impossibly close, his heart beating against yours, his hands tangled in your hair, rubbing at your scalp, and naturally, you tuck your forehead into his neck, a quiet sigh leaving your once quivering lips.

Your nightmare would have dissolved without your knowledge, and you would be lulled into a dreamless sleep with your mate holding you close, his warm cheek resting on your head with one hand resting at the back of your neck and the other hand stroking up your spine, protecting you from anything and everything, even your own mind. You would wake up without any memories of the nightmare, and if I am being honest, Rhysand wouldn't want to remind you of it either, so he keeps this part of his duty towards you to himself.

Cassian

I am not gonna lie, this male is a heavy sleeper. He is dead to the world once his head hits the pillow. And he freaking snores too. Actually, he is famous for how loud he snores. Cassian can be heard snoring from across the house of wind. And initially, it was really hard for you to fall asleep to. In fact, you would force Cass to stay awake until you fell asleep because you just could not with his snoring.

And now?? Now this fucking male has you unable to fall asleep without his snoring. You need his heated, and I mean this male is a literal furnace, nearly naked body beneath you, with his burly arms wrapped tight around your waist, with your head pressed against his male tits, your legs tangled with his, in order to fall asleep. The snoring has become its own sort of white noise to you, and without it?? You will stay up the entire night and be extremely grumpy the next morning, often resulting in the back of Rhysand's head getting smacked for his taunting. (if Cass is out on a mission for longer than a day or two, Rhys actively avoids you for fear that you will end up choking him for sending his general away. Not that that has ever happened before.... nope... never................)

So. On good nights, you are usually snoozing it away with your hunk of a male, and you end up waking up to a lovely "surprise" poking at your tummy and a male who is too turned on by you to be ashamed in the slightest.

On bad nights though, on nights where you worry about Cassian, on nights where all of your fear of losing your loving mate culminates into nightmares, don't ever doubt that Cass wouldn't be there for you. Cassian is the general of the night court of a reason. He, like Rhys and Az, has been trained, for centuries, to be aware of his surroundings, even in his sleep. So while he might sleep heavy, his body are attuned to taking note of his environment, and that means, his body and his bond is focused on you throughout the night.

So he does wake up to you tensing, to your quickened breathing, to your restlessness, immediately too. His eyes would snap open, with his arm around your waist firm and tight, his other automatically reaching for the dagger he has hidden under his pillow, looking out for any signs of immediate danger to you. Not to himself. To you. His instinct does not edge towards self preservation. It hasn't since he met you. His instinct is to protect you at all costs.

Once he realizes that there isn't any physical threat that is causing your distress, his attention goes back to you, an ache burrowing itself in his chest as he notices your hand is clenching into a fist against him, as he notices your face is screwing up in fear, as he notices your body shaking. His mouth drys at the sight of you looking so scared, and he wouldn't be able to help himself.

Cass would murmur quiet reassurances, rubbing at the space between your shoulder blades and planting kisses onto your furrowed brows, "wake up sweetheart, s'jus a nightmare" and "shhh, I got you love, I'm here" and "s'okay baby, you're fine" and "c'mon, that's it, that's my girl, wake up f'me beauty"

When you wake with a start, he hushes your cries and pulls you in even closer. He would turn you both onto your sides, your front melding against his with his arm tucked under your head and around your hip with his leathery paper thin wings shield you both from the outside world. It's this warm cocoon that he forms around you where you spend the rest of the night and into the early morning.

At first, you would apologize for waking him up so early, knowing that he has training in the morning with Az and the others, but he dismisses that immediately, stressing to you that his only concern, at this time and forever, is you. He would stay awake with you, attentively listening to your ramblings about your nightmare, playing with the ends of your hair while you tell him all your secret fears. And he would kiss you and promise to protect you no matter what, and he would promise to keep you safe. Eventually, you would end up falling asleep, the closeness of your mate, his gentle breathing, and the warmth he brings relaxing you enough to a dreamless rest. And Cass, the ever diligent and loving male, would stay awake for the rest of the morning, skipping out on training to watch over the love of his life and make sure that you don't have any other nightmares.

In the morning, after you wake up feeling rested, Cass would finally let you go, a soft kiss to your lips and a wink in goodbye, only to come back within ten minutes, bringing you some warm, fresh chai that he made for you with some oatmeal that you both share in bed together. You spend the rest of the day cuddled up with your mate with slow and sweet love making, hushed oaths to each other to protect one another, and long naps in between.

Azriel

Azriel is a completely attuned to you. And so are his shadows. He has one that you have noticed that constantly follows you around, that learns every single thing about you to report back to its master. And then there are a couple that you haven't noticed. Ones that stay hidden in the darkness with full intent to take care of anything that puts you in harms way. And it stays that way always, regardless of the timing.

So at night, when your heart rate jumps, your blood pumping through your veins, your eyes furrowing shut too tightly, the slightest bit of sweat breaking out on your skin, they are the first to notice. And they are the quick to notify their master about it, hurridely slithering to his ears to wake Az so he can help you.

Azriel would initially try to soothe you in your sleep, his heart aching at the thought of you being afraid of something he can't control. A quick command to his shadows has the curtains to your balcony eased apart, the light from the moon and stars beaming in through the large glass doors. His scarred hands would stroke at your cheeks ever so gently, your mating bond humming at the barely there touch. Az wouldn't hesitate to place his lips in the space between your brows, moving from one soft edge of your face to the next with small pepperings of kisses.

He would thumb at your edge of your jaw, the calloused tip of his finger reminding you in your sleep that he is there. That he didn't leave sometime in the night. That he would never leave. That he would always be there to protect you. To care for you. To love you. He knows that you have your own traumas that you deal with, and he wants you to feel in control of your problems. Nightmares... they make you feel out of control. And he is there to give the power right back to you.

Most nights, Azriel's simple touch is enough to soothe you. I'm ngl, it does stroke his pride a little (a lot) that he is able to calm his mate with just the touch of his hands. With something that he used to keep hidden behind his back when he talked to others, something that he would cover up from the shame of his past, something that he feared would one day lead to a disgusted look on your face. And on those nights that his touch is enough, once you are settled, he pulls you closer to him, tucking his arm around your waist and wrapping one of his large wings around both of your figures, burying his face into your neck so he can fall back asleep to the feel of your pulse against his skin.

On the nights where the nightmares are just too much, where you are too deep in the dream that you can't feel anything but the fear, Azriel will wake you. He loathes the thought of disturbing your sleep, he hates that you will most likely not feel rested in the morning, but his heart shatters into the tinest pieces when he can feel the end of your mating bond crying out for him in your sleep. So he lays a firm hand on your forehead, his other hand rubbing at your shoulder, tenderly shaking you awake: "wake up my love, it's alright," and "you're fine my sweet girl, I'm here," and "I promise I'll always be here my dove, now be a good girl for me an wake up"

He would hush you as you startle awake, the jolt of your body causing him to wrap his arms tightly around you with mumbled, "that's it, there's my starshine" and "s'okay moon, it was just a bad dream" and after a good long while of him calming you down, he would whisper into your hair with a final kiss to the top of your head, "c'mon love, let's get you something to drink."

Azriel wouldn't let you lift a finger or a toe for that matter. Male would take your comforter and wrap you up like a burrito and then carry you all the way down to the kitchen where he settles you onto the counter, sending you the most beautiful, tired smile while he makes you some chamomile tea. He would be slow in each of his steps, the small smile on his pretty lips never leaving his face as he feels your gaze watching his every movement. He adores doing things like this for you. He craves doting on you. He thinks you are his treasure. A gift from the mother herself. And he plans to make sure you feel that way, all the time, forever, until you and him only exist as stars in the night sky.

A/N: 😫🫠🥲 Sorry this was a bit repetitive, but I hope you liked it ❤️❤️❤️

#rose rambles #rose answers #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar headcanons #rhysand headcaons #cassian headcanons #azriel headcanons #acotar fluff

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 5 months

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Hi! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a Yandere!Platonic 1st Years (+Grim) with an Eri!Reader?

How would they feel learning of her abused, trauma, and her unfamiliarity with general society and social norms? (Who’s looking murderous when they see just the scars littered around her arms and legs when her bandages are removed?)

Though it’s a whole different story when she says she sees her power as nothing but a ‘curse’, and her existence a ‘burden’ that only makes others suffer? All because of the man named ‘Overhaul’, the one who did this so her? (Who’s about to go feral when she admits she doesn’t remember how to smile?)

But she starts to become more positive thanks to Grim and slowly the others (She likes Grim and is very sparkly eyed because he talks, breaths fire and thinks he’s amazing)

Imagine when she says she made a friend all on her very own who’s ‘like her’, though they lightly chastise her that she shouldn’t talk with strangers (It’s Malleus, they’re both lonely, have horns she has 1, while Malleus has 2, have an incredible power that’s very dangerous, and they’re unfamiliar/slow with society)

Eri Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’ve been through so much….so you’ve been told. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant voice in your head that has guilt weighing on your little heart. Your transportation to Twisted Wonderland couldn’t come at a better time. They’re going to welcome you cage you to this new world more than willing to spoil you to your hearts content:

Grim

“Oi oi servant they all think we’re monsters!”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah! So we gotta show them we’re gonna be the greatest mages in here!”

“Oh….okay!”

He’s the perfect chaotic companion

He teaches you to allow yourself to do what you want

Granted his guidance isn’t all knowing

No matter how tasty Heartslabyul’s tarts are you shouldn’t eat them everytime you visit — especially without permission

Either way you’re learning to forgive yourself and allow you to have fun

And leave it to Grim to say whatever snarky thing you’d like to say when your big-brothers get in the way

“Nyeh! You won’t be able to do anything against my flames, nyah!”

Ace Trappola

“Hey if I catch you moping about that plague doctor guy, I’ll sock ya in the head!”

“Ace?!”

“I-i-i won’t!”

In a weird way you’re so used to being bullied (by kai) that you tend to take his bully-affection to heart

You know he cares, he just won’t tell you often

He reminds you of a certain blonde…

It also makes you more privy to his very willing desire to steamroll over anyone he deems a problem for you

“I think he meant that as a joke, Ace…”

“Joke schmoke, I warned you, you stain! I’m putting you in the medical wing.”

“Ace, please!”

Deuce Spade

“(Y/n), did you eat today? Are you feeling well? Do you need me to carry you!”

Mother hen of the group

He’s hovering close behind even when you don’t see him

Always making sure you’re safe and happy as can be

He’s teeming with anxiety if he’s not watching you himself

Even worse if you get hurt accidentally or on purpose

Now he’s Mama bear totally bearing the claws to protect you

He’s not going to leave you to defend yourself

Especially when your abilities hinge on your mental state

He’s trying his best

“Are you doing the breathing techniques Crewel recommended? Where’s your paper bag?”

Jack Howl

“Hello little one.”

“Hi.”

“Would you…like to sit on my shoulders?”

“Yes!”

Your #1 guard dog

Doesn’t have to worry considering Deuce is freaking out for him

He’ll be the sane voice of reason because Ace isn’t anywhere close to reliable in his eyes

Naturally he entrances you with his tail and overall dog-like personality

But don’t forget he’s got the bite force of a wolf that he’s not afraid to use if he deems fit

“Pup, don’t stop yourself from having fun or being…young. I–we will keep you safe.”

Epel Felmier

“You’re so pretty.”

“...Thanks.”

You’re the only one who can get away with calling him that

And he loves nothing more than escaping Vil to find out what other sweet makes you smile sweetly

He’s also one of the first to join Ace as part of the self-proclaimed protection committee

He’s also one of the first to suggest taking it further than a mere beatdown

Anything for his new little sibling

“If there’s no body…there’ll be no problems.”

Sebek Zigvolt

“TINY HORNED HUMAN! WHERE IS YOUR DIASOMNIA PIN!”

“Uhm…Ace took it from me…said it was unfair.”

“THAT FOOL. COME CHILD I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU THE PIN AGAIN.”

Is definitely apart of a brainwash committee of his own and is insistent you become Diasomnia’s new mascot…under Malleus of course

His loudness sometimes scares you off but he means well

And will no doubt join the others if a few heads need to roll

“Rest easy, child. On my watch, no one will harm you.”

831 notes · View notes

seat-safety-switch · 1 year

Text

“Everything’s in the cloud now,” I shout at the hot air balloonist over the sound of the burners. Sun glints off my snub-nose .38. “I was never smart enough to be a hacker before.”

Phineas Fogg looks behind him. "Uh-uh," I gently scold, and shake the gun for emphasis. "That went overboard a long time ago." He looks glumly over the edge of the basket, hoping to see his Passenger Removal Blackjack. It's a a desperate hope, one that it was simply misplaced by me, rather than yote parabolically into a nearby state fair from 8,000 feet. "Now drive."

"Fucking Missouri," he spits, and he's right. In any other state, this would be a felony. Balloonists are like gods there, unimpeachable even by law enforcement. Here, the gods meet mortals, and they don't like it.

We float higher and higher as he works what I have determined to be a crude throttle. The fire is beautiful, but I know that I cannot allow myself to be distracted by the purging of hydrocarbons. These balloony-types are crafty, having fought their way out of the vicious canvas wars of their disgusting home country. I know that if I take my eyes off the prize for one second, he'll try something.

Indeed he does. We pass briefly over an attractive red-and-white circus tent, itself an overinflated artifact of a bygone age of freaks. My unwilling travelling companion takes the opportunity to leap out of the basket, falling hundreds of feet. He bursts through the roof of the tent, landing squarely in a conveniently-placed bale of hay. Figures, I grunt to myself, but then I notice that he's not moving. No doubt the Barnum Bros have gotten themselves a cost-cutting MBA, who has decided that rocks painted like hay is sufficient enough to convince the rubes that the elephants are eating well and treated well, in equal measure.

I have caught myself in quite the pickle, I realize, as I look at the crude array of burners, levers, strings, springs, and apertures that lay before me. Saturday morning cartoons have taught me that this contraption operates the balloon's height, but its exact nature is unclear to me. Safe for the moment, I decide to take advantage of the surprising-but-welcome solitude and meditate on the issue, sitting cross-legged in the bottom of the basket and pivoting my thoughts towards the eternal expanse of human ingenuity. Carburetors of my youth come unbidden to my mind's eye on this vision quest, and soon I have discovered the common ancestor of this gas-burping nightmare and my precious Plymouth Volare's single-barrel, ethanol-rotted Ball & Ball.

Opening my eyes, it is very clear to me now what I must do. I floor the fucker. An enormous wall of flame bursts from the burners, singing my eyebrows. I laugh, and rise into the sky. Up there, in the clouds, the banks dwell. I am coming for them.

#best of

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five-rivers · 1 month

Text

archetypical changes

@echoghost1 @ghostfox_fuyu

It started out small. Small enough that, in retrospect, Danny was surprised he noticed at all. But he did. At least, he noticed enough to dismiss it as nothing important.

It was just hair, after all. Just hair, growing a bit too fast. He knew that people did have different rates of hair growth naturally. Like, beards especially could grow fast. That’s why five o’clock shadow was a thing.

Just hair.

He wound a curl around finger, where it peeked out from under his left ear. This fast… He could probably brush it off. Maybe it was an extension of his healing powers. He’d just need to cut it more often, so he didn’t go to the barber too often. Would that even be something people would notice?

He’d noticed. It was his body. His hair.

Would anyone else?

He ran a hand through it, sweeping it back, and went on with his life.

“Hey, Jazz,” he said, a week later. “Will you give me a haircut?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Jazz. She turned from her desk and looked him over. “It is getting long, but didn’t you just get a haircut?”

Danny shrugged. “Does it matter?”

Jazz walked over to him and looked up and down the hallway. “Is it a ghost thing?” she whispered.

“No idea,” Danny said.

Jazz sighed, as if it was his fault he was a freak of nature.

Well. It kind of was. Still. She didn't need to act like it.

“Come on, we'll do it in the bathroom. I'll get the broom, you find the scissors.”

They regrouped in the bathroom a few minutes later. Jazz had picked up a chair as well.

“Go ahead and sit down,” she said as she pulled a comb from a drawer. She ran the comb through his hair.

“I did brush my hair before,” said Danny, leaning back slightly and closing his eyes.

“Sure,” said Jazz. “Just checking. How do you want this?”

“However it was before. Just shorter than it is now.”

“Well… I’ll do my best. But you know I’ve not done this before, right?”

“Yeah, but I can’t ask Mom or Dad, and I’m broke, so. This is about it. Unless I want to ask Sam, and I’m not ready to go goth.”

“Going ghost is enough for you, huh?”

“Pretty much.”

“Okay,” said Jazz with a sigh. “Let’s do this.”

The scissors snipped cleanly through his hair, over and over, ticklish strands falling around his ears and shoulders. Jazz didn’t get fancy. She kept things relatively even and didn’t attempt fades or different lengths or anything like that. The result was somewhat strange, but it was workable. No one would think he had some kind of weird hair-growing… thing.

Yeah. He was totally killing this secret identity thing.

Jazz ran a hand through his hair, shaking loose a few more cut strands. “Your hair is really fluffy, you know that?”

“Thanks, Jazz,” said Danny.

“Thank me by helping clean up. Your hair got everywhere.”

“Guess that’s why barber shops use those weird little capes.”

“Yeah,” said Jazz.

They cleaned up relatively quickly, and Danny spent the rest of the afternoon working on homework, secure in the knowledge that he had, once again, protected himself from discovery via stupid means, like supernaturally fast-growing hair. He didn’t have the time for it to distract him from what was really important. In this case, transformations of functions.

Math. What would he do without it?

Then, of course, he went to bed and fell asleep. No one disturbed him that night, ghost or human, which only happened about half the time, even if it felt like he was being woken up every night, sometimes.

He woke up and ran his hands through his hair. It felt longer than it had yesterday when he went to bed, but not by a huge amount. He might have to get Jazz to cut his hair once a week or more. Maybe he’d just have to learn how to do it himself. Ugh…

He went about his usual morning routine in his normal somnambulant state. Clothing, shoes, on to the bathroom…

His reflection blinked sleepily at him. Yeah, his hair was a bit longer, but only by a few millimeters. It wasn’t growing fast enough that anyone would notice over the course of a few days.

Dismissing the problem as one that wouldn’t truly become problematic for a few more days, he picked up his toothbrush and made a face at himself in the mirror.

Then he froze.

He leaned forward, over the sink, baring his teeth. He poked at his canines with one finger. Yep. Yep, that was real. That wasn’t a hallucination, even if it seemed like it should be.

His upper canines had grown long and sharp overnight. Their points descended until they almost touched his bottom gums. He opened his mouth and discovered that it wasn’t just his upper canines, but his lower canines, too.

His fingers roved over the rest of his teeth, searching for other changes. He couldn’t find any. That didn’t mean they weren’t there.

He pulled off his shirt, then his pants. He hadn’t noticed anything else while he was getting dressed, but he was so out of it in the mornings that his lack of noticing also didn’t mean anything.

His skin… still pasty white, still lightly freckled. His muscles seemed to move normally, but he wasn’t exactly an expert. However… He raised his hand to his side and slotted his fingers into the gaps between his ribs. It hadn’t been like this before, had it? He slid his fingers back and forth, thinking. It felt… oddly satisfying, but also very wrong. His hips also seemed slimmer, bonier.

He’d never had all that much fat, he took after his mother in that way, but he was pretty sure this was over and above that. Something strange was happening to him.

He put his shirt and pants back on and walked through the wall into Jazz’s room.

“Holy– Knock first,” said Jazz, throwing the first thing she could grab at him. Which was her pajama pants. Ew. “What’s wrong?”

“I have fangs now,” said Danny.

“What?”

Danny opened his mouth as wide as he could to show her.

“What are you doing, I don’t want to see your uvula, that’s– Oh.”

Danny let his mouth close with a click. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m–” Jazz looked lost. “I don’t know. You can probably hide, um, teeth for school. It’s not as if people are going to be looking in your mouth… Are there any other changes? Other than that and your hair?”

“Um,” said Danny. “I– Maybe?”

“If it’s important enough that you broke into my room–”

“I didn’t break anything.”

“--then you’d better tell me.”

Danny felt himself blushing. “It’s– I think that I’ve lost a lot of weight. Like, overnight. I can see my ribs now.”

Jazz hissed through her teeth. “That’s serious, Danny. That’s a serious health thing.”

“More than the fangs?”

“Way more than the fangs. I’ll call us out sick, and we can go visit your doctor friend. What was his name? Frostfight?”

“Frostbite,” corrected Danny. “You’re really going to help me skip school?”

“For a health thing?” asked Jazz. “Yeah. You basically are sick. Or, at least, there’s something strange going on with your body that we need to figure out sooner rather than later. Now get out of here so I can get dressed. Is it cold where Frostbite lives?”

“Freezing,” said Danny. “Wear long underwear and layers. Lots of layers.”

“Ugh. I might as well wear my hazmat.”

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be a bad idea,” said Danny. “We are going into the Ghost Zone.”

Jazz sighed. “Great, now, seriously, get out and get ready to go. I’ll get you when I’m ready.”

Danny fled back through the walls and dropped himself onto his bed. He waited, thoughts whirling. What could possibly be making his hair grow faster, his weight drop, and his teeth turn into fangs? Was this some kind of ghost disease? Ghost puberty? Some kind of weird curse?

Jazz knocked on his door not long after, and Danny leaped up, eager to get answers.

“I called us out,” she said, then did a double take. ��Danny, your hair.”

He reached up and ran his hand over his head. “It’s longer,” he said.

“A lot longer,” said Jazz. “Visibly longer. I was only gone a few minutes. It’s getting faster. A lot faster.”

Danny forced a smile. “Well, good thing we were already going to see Frostbite.”

Jazz hesitated, then nodded. “I got Mom and Dad to run off to Elmerton. Told them there was a ghost sighting over there.”

“So they won’t notice us being gone. Smart.”

“I know I am,” said Jazz. She smirked down at Danny, then winked. “Come on, let’s go.”

Danny went ghost and floated next to her as she made her way down the stairs. “How are you on piloting the Specter Speeder?”

“I’m, well,” she made a face. “I haven’t gotten much of a chance. I’ve gotten up to level three on the simulator.”

“You should be fine to fly it, then,” said Danny. “It’s not like there’s a lot of stuff to run into– you’ll just go through it. And there’s no time to learn like the present.”

“Don’t use my words against me,” said Jazz, scowling slightly. Danny stuck his tongue out at her.

They went down into the lab, and started going through the flight checks for the Specter Speeder.

“I’ll fly ahead,” said Danny, clipping on a Fenton Fone. “Check for danger and all.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?”

“Yeah, I feel fine,” said Danny. “Just… weird.” He licked his teeth. “Really weird.”

“Okay, go ahead. I’ll finish up here in just a couple of minutes.”

Danny flew through the portal and did a few laps of the portal. “Everything looks clear for you over here.”

“Okay,” said Jazz through the Fone. “Check your Fenton Fone. It’s skipping a lot of what you say.”

Danny grumbled but checked it. It seemed fine. He popped it back in. “I think we’ll just have to deal with it,” said Danny.

“Great,” said Jazz. “Stand clear.”

The Specter Speeder slowly slid through the portal. Once it was all the way through, Danny tapped his Fone again and waved at Jazz. “Follow me,” he said. “It’s a long way there.”

The Far Frozen was as cold as ever. Danny landed in the snow, his hair falling down to the curve of his jaw, and sighed at the pleasant sensation. Flying wasn’t difficult, per se. It wasn’t like walking or running, it didn’t really use muscles, but it was tiring, and the Far Frozen was far.

However… was he more tired than he normally would have been? Or was this another symptom?

“Great One!” greeted Frostbite, jarring Danny from his spiraling introspection. “What brings you here today?”

“Well,” said Danny, trying to get his thoughts together.

“Health things,” said Jazz, climbing out of the Speeder. “Oh, gosh, it really is cold out here.”

“I see,” said Frostbite, leaning closer to Danny. “You do not appear injured.”

“It’s more like… body… changes,” explained Danny awkwardly. He glanced sideways at the other yetis walking through the public space. “Can we go in?”

“Of course,” said Frostbite. He gestured Danny and Jazz onward and towards a well-lit cave. “Medical is this way, as you might remember.”

“I… guess I don’t, really,” said Danny, following Frostbite. “It’s sort of a blur.”

“Understandable. You were quite unwell.”

Danny could feel Jazz glaring at the back of his head. He decided to ignore that. Problem for later, if she remembered. The hair and teeth and weight loss were the problems now.

They reached the medical wing in short order, and Frostbite ushered him and Jazz into a smaller private room. There was a counter and an examination bench and a few cabinets. “So, what seems to be the problem?” he asked.

Danny, with Jazz’s ‘help,’ explained.

“Hm,” said Frostbite. “There are a few things that could cause that, but I need to make some measurements before I could say which one is happening here. Could you sit up here and take off your shirt?”

Danny flew up - it was a bit too high to just jump up - and pulled off his shirt. Frostbite produced a stethoscope, and asked Danny to cough and hum. He listened intently. Danny listened, too. Humming felt… odd, as if his chest were more hollow, as if the sound was brushing the very edge of his ghostly wail.

“And all this happened recently?” asked Frostbite, after a few minutes.

“Yeah. I noticed the hair thing about a week ago? Everything else seemed to just show up today.”

“I think I may know what is happening.”

“Is it a ghost puberty thing?” asked Danny, unsure if he should hope for that or not.

“I suppose it could be considered analogous to puberty,” said Frostbite, bemused, “although puberty isn't something that typically happens to ghosts. We don't age. It's more along the lines of adapting to a role after a period of malleability.”

Jazz let out a little sigh. “It's not something that will hurt Danny, then?”

“Unfortunately, I cannot say that for certain. There are a great deal of potential complications, which may be made greater by your half-human status, and the archetype you seem to be settling into…”

“What is it?” asked Danny.

“The role you have taken upon yourself is that of a tutelary, a protective spirit. You are developing a very thin, almost gaunt appearance, and your hair is growing rapidly. Fangs tend to be nonspecific, common to many types of ghost, the same with minor changes to your nails and skin tone. Your wail on the other hand…”

“I sort of felt it when I was humming, earlier,” volunteered Danny. “That hasn't happened before.”

“There is only one group I know of that matches all those traits,” said Frostbite gravely. “Here, in the Realms, they are called the Keeners, or the Mourners, or, on occasion, Those Who Mourn Before, for their predictive abilities. In the human world, I believe the more famous of them became known as banshees.”

“I thought banshees were all women,” said Danny, feeling a little blank.

“The famous ones are,” said Frostbite.

Danny wanted to know more about that, but shook his head and returned to the question at hand. “What's dangerous about that, though?” he certainly thought it sounded unpleasant and inconvenient to the whole ‘secret identity’ thing, but he could admit there was a difference between that and actively dangerous.

“A banshee’s wail is supposed to kill people, isn't it?” interjected Jazz.

“They do, on occasion,” said Frostbite. “Especially when they are younger and have less control.”

“I've had my wail under control for ages, though,” protested Danny, shooting a glare at Jazz. She gave him an apologetic shrug.

“When I asked you to hum, earlier, didn’t you feel something different? Something unusual?” asked Frostbite, kindly.

Danny shrugged. “Maybe.”

“This is a change,” said Frostbite. “One that affects more than your physical appearance. The powers associated with your archetype will change as well, including your wail, and those changes generally come with a loss of control, however temporary. The typical precaution in these cases is to, ah, use a gag, until a community of banshees willing to train the new one can be contacted.”

“I, um. I don’t suppose that’s something that I can do, like, overnight?”

“Not generally,” said Frostbite. “There’s some overlap between banshees and ice-cored ghosts, more than there is for fire-cored ghosts, but it isn’t a great enough number for us to have regular contact.”

“That’s… I can’t… Great. That’s. What am I supposed to do with that? I’ve got my whole town– The ghosts– I can’t just up and leave.”

“Danny, you can’t go back if your wail could just randomly go off and, you know, ki–”

“I know that,” interrupted Danny, dropping his head into his hands. He rubbed his face vigorously.

“You may not have that particular addition to your wail,” said Frostbite. “In fact, I would be rather surprised if you did. You are, like I said, primarily a tutelary. A protector. Banshees from such backgrounds more typically have predictive or clairvoyant abilities. They do not cause the deaths that follow their cry, they only are aware of them.”

“Well, I guess that’d just suck for me rather than everyone else.” He could already feel his mental health taking a hit. “But I’ll be good, I’ll stay here and do whatever precautions you want. Play the silent game, sit in the middle of nowhere in the Zone, the gag thing, whatever. You’d better come up with a good excuse for me, though. I think Mom and Dad’ll get suspicious if they don’t see me for days or whatever.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Jazz.

“Is there anything else I should know about?” asked Danny. “Like, am I going to spontaneously combust or grow a tail or what?”

Frostbite chuckled. “Probably not. But we should take some fittings for the sound-dampening gag…”

Danny sighed. “I really don’t want to wear a gag.”

“It will be temporary,” said Frostbite, “to prevent accidents before you can have proper training.”

Danny wrinkled his nose. “That sounds wrong.”

“How so?” asked Frostbite.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” He fell back to lay down on the examination table.

Frostbite patted his shoulder. “It will be fine, Great One,” he said. “Almost everyone goes through this eventually. And while you’re here, I can give you more details about what other kinds of changes you can expect going forward. I have simplified a good deal, after all.”

“Oh my gosh, it is just like puberty,” said Danny.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?” asked Jazz.

“I’m more worried about you flying back.”

“We can give your sister an escort,” said Frostbite. “If Miss Jasmine is alright with that.”

Danny removed his hands from his face to stare Jazz into taking the escort.

“Alright,” said Jazz. “If it won’t put you out.” She walked over to Danny. “And if you are sure you don’t need me.”

“I’m sure. We can’t both be gone for who knows how long.”

She sighed and patted his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know,” said Danny. “I’m just going to complain about it the whole time.”

“As is your right. I know I wasn’t too happy when it started happening to me. I wasn’t always as handsome as I am now, you know.”Danny sat up. “Okay, now, I’ve got to hear that story.”

#danny phantom #phic phight

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specialagentlokitty · 4 months

Text

Daryl x reader - out my sight

A/N: this is my first time writing for TWD and for Daryl so have fun ahah

You were looking for food, and you found a bit, so you made your way back to the highway you were walking along.

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but it was the safest one, rather than trees, you had open space you could see walkers for miles on, and it was safer, with more supplies available when you needed it, and you had your trusted pointy stick.

You did have a machete as well, but you preferred being able to keep those freaks at a distance, you didn’t want them to get too close.

You moved slowly and quietly, keeping an eye out for any hiding spaces or places that seemed a little too dangerous to for you to go too close to.

Every day, three times a day you would stop, climbing into the nearest available tree.

That’s what you did now, you found a good tree to climb and you climbed up it, resting your back on the bark, looking around.

Reaching into the jacket, you pulled out a photo, and unfolded it, smiling you folded it in half the other way, running your thumb along the forever memory of the man.

“You better be alive you dumb bastard…” you whispered.

You wondered if he had made it, if he was nearby or if he was safe, if he wasn’t even still in the state.

You didn’t know if he was looking for you, part of you hoped he was, but the other part hoped that he had just forgotten about you, and that he was focusing on his own safety.

The thought of your boyfriend from days gone by was the only thing that kept you going, the memories that you had of the pair of you before the world suddenly went to shit.

They kept you alive.

Kept you fighting.

Putting the photo away into the pocket of the jacket you were wearing, you sat there for a shot while, taking a break.

It was safe in the trees, away from the walkers and you had learnt that pretty quickly.

Clasping your hands together, you brought them to to your mouth and blew air into your hallowed palms, letting out a deep whistle, and you extended your fingers to make it higher pitched.

You stopped and listened.

At this point you weren’t expecting a reply, but three times a day you did this in the hopes that you would get one, but you never did.

You saw a few walkers perk up at the sound, but they carried on about their own business, the sound mimicking natural sounds in a way.

Taking a breath, you stayed there for maybe an hour before you carried on walking, checking car for anything that may be of use, but you didn’t want to stray too far from your camp.

You checked a few cars briefly, and made a mental note of what they had in them and if it was of use before trudging back towards your camp, and you sat between the circle of cars, cooking something to eat.

You had to eat during the day when it safer, and during the evenings you slept, in the night you stayed awake, keeping watch over the road, noting how many walkers there were if you saw any.

Early morning came, and you took a quick nap before making your way down to the cars from the day before.

Grabbing anything you could out of them, you jogged your way back towards your camp.

Climbing up your tree, you grabbed one of the bags you had in there and split the medicines and foods between them.

That’s when you heard it, the sound of vehicles moving and you climbed to a slightly lower branch, sitting down.

They came to a stop a little way up the road and began to search the cars you had already searched.

“Dumbasses… what the fuck are they doing…” you whispered.

You quietly jumped down, walking over to a car you hid behind it, gripping your machete this time.

You didn’t know who they were or what they wanted, so you had to be cautious.

You crept around them, weaving in and out of the cars, and you watched them, not wanting to get any closer.

They seemed like a large group, you couldn’t see them all, a couple of kids, some women, a man with them, but you still kept your distance, they could still be dangerous.

You backed away as they got closer, and ran back into the cover of the trees and up your tree to watch.

You could see more, and more people.

You wondered if he was there, and there was only one way for you to find out, at least up there through the branches and leaves they wouldn’t be able to find you.

You went to raised your hands, but stopped when you saw the horde, and you kept yourself hidden.

You watched as everybody scrambled to find a place to hide.

They weren’t going to last with the walkers and you knew that, and as much as you didn’t want to trust them, you couldn’t let anybody else die.

So you raised your hands and whistled again, leaving it as a long, deep whistle this time.

It drew the attention of the walkers and they kept moving.

Taking a deep breath, you whistled again, keeping them coming towards you, and when they were close enough you stopped.

They weren’t as stupid as they looked, but you knew they were going to keep going up the highway, so you waited.

Everything seemed so tense, so quiet.

“What the fuck was that?” Shane whispered.

Daryl stood up, helping get T-Dog to safety and he looked out on to the road.

“There ain’t no way…”

“What?” Rick asked.

Daryl let out a low and quiet whistle, pushing back Rick and Dale who tried to stop him.

“Just shut the fuck up and listen!” Daryl hissed.

You heard the low whistle, and you whistled again, seeing if it would happen once more.

If it was who you thought it was then he would know the pattern, but if it wasn’t then you knew to stay hiding.

A response came in a slightly shorter, lower whistle.

Climbing down from the tree you walked on to the road, standing on one of the cars to stare at the group.

They all saw you, and raised their guns but nobody moved.

Daryl raised his crossbow, and he whistled again, only a short one this time, maybe a second long.

You jumped down from the car, walking a little closer to get a better view, hand covering your eyes.

“Holy fuckin’ shit…”

Daryl set his crossbow aside and he raised his hands to the others.

“Don’t shoot, she’s human.”

“How the hell can you be so sure?!” Lori hissed.

“You ever heard one of them fuckers whistle? No, so she’s fucking human I swear to god you hurt her I’ll put an arrow straight through your fucking eyes bitch.”

He shoved past T-Dog and Rick, making his way carefully through the cars, just like you were doing.

You stopped, pointing the stick and he stopped as well.

“Are you bit?”

“No dumbass I ain’t bit, you think I’d still be here if I were?”

You shrugged a little.

“Maybe, you smell dead enough.”

“You asshole you can’t smell me from that far away, and you know they can’t talk neither, get over here.” He scoffed.

You lowered the stick and walked over a closer, getting a better look at him and you smiled softly, a few tears brimming your eyes.

“I can’t believe you’re still alive…” you whispered.

“Nah come on, seriously don’t start crying.”

He walked over, taking your weapon he set it aside and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.

You balled your hands into the back of his shirt, closing your eyes as you tried to fight the tears.

“Come on darl… you know I don’t deal with the crying… I don’t like the crying…”

You sniffled a little, pulling away and draped his arms on your shoulders, clasping his hands together behind your head.

You sniffled a little, locking eyes with him.

“You smell like ass Daryl…”

“Well I’m sorry, I’ll just whip a shower out my ass and clean.”

You laughed a little and he smirked a little bit.

“You don’t smell all too good either you know, I’m pretty sure you could rival the dead with that damn smell.”

“Shut up.” You said.

You sighed, resting your head on his chest again and he placed his hand on the back of your head, kissing your head.

He rested his chin there, eyes scanning over the surrounding areas.

He pulled away and then smacked you upside the head and you smacked his arm.

“Ow! Daryl what the fuck?!”

“The fuck were you thinking running off huh? You fucking stupid or something?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Well I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly plan on a world ending apocalypse you dumbass, I just wanted some space.”

“You ran off you moron! Didn’t even leave a note!”

“I’m sorry! God! Don’t get so pissy about it, you told me to leave.”

“Jesus Christ (Y/N), we had an argument, course I told you to leave, I didn’t think you actually would.”

You shrugged a little, putting your hands in your pockets as you grinned sheepishly up at your boyfriend.

He rose a brow, crossing his arms as he looked down at you unamused.

“I love you?”

“Damn straight you better, now where’s your crap? You’re coming with me.”

He grabbed your weapon and you led him back towards your tree so you could grab everything you were stashing.

Daryl kept his eyes glued to you, making sure you didn’t vanish again, because he wasn’t all that sure you were actually there, and that it wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him.

While he was staring at you he clicked on to the familiar jacket you were wearing.

“Dammit (Y/N), you’re the reason my jacket went missin’? Seriously?”

“Oh pipe down.” You laughed.

Daryl shook his head, but he did smirk a little bit.

It was definitely you, because only you could piss him off that much and he still have a soft spot for you, just like he always had.

He was going to make sure you went everywhere with him this time, even if he had to handcuff you both together he wasn’t about to let you out of his sight again

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #daryl dixon #Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon x you #Daryl Dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n

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ruskaroma · 10 months

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Absolutely fucking adore the idea of Constantine having a very talkative and energetic little human around that he calls “bunny” and treats you like one, treats you like a pet.

You really think that you’re Constantine’s sidekick because you follow him around everywhere he goes and you’re basically living in his apartment because you just – never – fucking – leave. No matter what Constantine does, no matter how mean he treats you, you just can’t bring yourself to hate him because he just might be the only light you have in your life – which is a weird thing to say considering Constantine probably possesses the most darkest mind in the world and you haven’t even seen half of it.

When he’s in a good mood, he’d treat you out for a dinner and actually conversates with you like a normal human being (even though nothing about him – or you – is normal) and tell demon and angel stories you’d always find yourself drawn into, chin on your palm, wide doe eyes while listening to his deep voice talk.

Most of the time you’d get very excited about something and very eager to learn that you’re practically vibrating in your seat. It’s such a normal occurrence to Constantine that he knows how to deal with you when you’re in that state of mind.

“Wait so – if demons and angels exist, is there a possibility that vampires are also true? Are they real? Please, tell me they’re real – I mean, have you ever met one before, John? God, that would be so freaking cool. I always wanted to be a vampire –”

Constantine lets you talk. Even though he wouldn’t quite grasp the other words that you’re saying because he really feels like you’re rapping instead of talking. Not to mention the hand movements you’d do while you spew random little facts out of nowhere, or when you’d remember a memory from childhood that you’ll end up telling him; Constantine really does find you quite adorable.

And you’re a bit energetic too. Well, a bit wouldn’t really cover it. You’re full blown energetic who sometimes acts like you drank five cans of caffeine the moment you open your eyes, but Constantine knows all your energy is natural and comes from your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to sit down next to him at a diner without your hands fiddling with something or when you just really… couldn’t keep your mouth shut. It’s a hard thing to do, really.

Then there’s Constantine, who likes to take advantage of your behavior by saying something really perverted and inappropriate.

“Hey, bunny.”

“What?”

“Would my cock be enough to get you to stop talking?”

“Good one. But that would only make it a lot worse.”

“I know. I’ve heard it,” he’d snicker, then would press a kiss on your cheeks that would make you flutter and scoff in annoyance. He always smelled like cigarettes and something minty. “I’m joking, bun.”

“Yeah, it would be a joke if it wasn’t true,” you rolled your eyes. “You’ve witnessed my mouth doing a lot more work than usual when I’m sucking your dick.”

“Well, you should be proud of yourself, bun. Looks like your mouth got more talent other than talking.”

“Haha, very funny.”

His comments like that don’t really offend you or anything because you know he’s joking. You know he secretly loves your rambles despite being mean about it, because that’s just how he is.

But during sex, it’s a whole different story.

Constantine has a habit of making you cry on the bed by making your rambles even worse. He knows that you ramble when you’re either feeling flustered, nervous, or horny, and most of the time you get all those feelings at once when you’re in front of his cock, which means a sudden flip of the switch inside your brain just goes off and you start saying these deliciously filthy words that never fails to make Constantine hard.

“What’s that, little bun? I didn’t hear you,” Constantine smirked, voice teasing as his hand gripped the base of his thick cock, smearing the dripping tip all over your lips as you struggled to catch your breath after he fucked your throat. “Where did my little talkative bunny go, hm? Why is she not talking?”

“J–John–”

“Oh? What’s that? Is the little bunny speaking?” Constantine mocked, pulled his dick away from your mouth as he gripped your chin with one hand. “If my bunny wants my attention, that’s not the right name she should be addressing me, yeah? Already forgot our rules around here, bun? I let you get a taste of my cock and you’re already defying me?”

“No–no, no, d-daddy, that’s not–that’s not what I mean,” you sniffled, your eyes getting teary from your kneeling position as well as when you heard Constantine’s mocking voice above you. “Daddy, please–just want–just want your cock in my pussy again, p-please–”

“Oh, you do? Poor little bunny is so wet and horny now, hm? My little bunny is feeling so empty?”

“Y-yes, daddy, I–I feel so empty–”

“Look at you crying. You look so pathetic,” he grinned, grabbing you by the hair and throwing you on the bed. You were already naked, already covered in bruises from the makeout session earlier and the handprint on your ass was starting to become more evident and red as minutes went by. “Where does my bunny want daddy’s cock, huh? Where do you want it, bun, tell me.”

“I–In my–In my pussy, daddy, want it in my–my cunny–” you sniffled again, pawing at his shoulders as your tears were starting to blur your vision. “Daddy, please–please, I want you so bad–miss your cock so much, feel so empty and wet and I just wanna–”

“Shhh, bun, I know. I know what you want,” he petted your hair with one hand while his other was guiding his cock in your cunt, the fat tip circling teasingly on your already puffy pussy lips and not quite going in. “Wish I could record you like this and make you watch it after. Fucking show you how filthy you are while begging for my cock. All the dirty shit you say when you’re so desperate for me.”

You keened, nodding absentmindedly even though you didn’t understand a single word he said. Your mind was only focusing on the delicious feeling of his cock rubbing against your sloppy cunt.

“Yes–yes, please, daddy, d-do what you want–do want you want, I’m yours–bunny is all yours–”

“That’s right. That’s my little bunny, knowing her place and where she rightfully belongs,” Constantine grinned, and it was only then he slammed his cock all the way inside you, stretching your walls wide as you bite onto his shoulders to keep yourself from waking up the entire building. “I would choose this tight little pussy over entering the fucking gates of heaven.”

#john constantine #john constantine x reader #john constantine x you #john constantine x y/n #john constantine imagine #john constantine smut #john constantine fanfic #john constantine fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves smut #keanu reeves imagine #my works #constantine

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dilfprayers · 5 months

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Uncle Leon Who...

drabble about uncle leon #_# (nsfw) tw; incest , dub-con , p in v mentioned , virginity , mentions of physical abuse , bruises , no aftercare your pervy uncle who cant keep his hands to himself!!!

uncle leon who came to visit one day. he's sweet but he's been a little off. always complimenting you every chance he gets

"ah,, you've grown up into a fine young lady." "i remember when you were this small... now look at you."

uncle leon who subtly brushes against you, leans in close to speak to you. you can feel his warm breath on your skin every time and it gives you goosebumps uncle leon who insists on watching the house with you while your parents leave out for their date night uncle leon who waits till your parents are completely away from the house and out of sight before sneaking off to your room uncle leon who slowly opens the door to see you listening to music while you lay there in bed. you were doing your college work, completely spaced out - unaware that he's watching you uncle leon who can't help but enjoy the sight of you until he gets a tint in his pants. yet, remains cool uncle leon who makes bullshit excuses and lies

"was thinkin' bout ordering dinner. pizza sound good?" "pizza? yeah, sounds great actually.."

uncle leon who knows you are clueless and dumb. he wanted to take advantage of that uncle leon who leans in, one knee on the bed with a quiet creak beneath as he looks at you.

"you know..." "i never actually gotten a closer look at you."

uncle leon who admires you - but it's wrong. you feel wrong.

"oh- you don't have to..get that close?"

uncle leon who notices your hesitance and quickly reacts. his hands on your wrists before they were pinned above your head. his body remained over yours as he puts his weight down on you

"hey..hey! calm down. i don't wanna hurt you.."

uncle leon who tries to soothe your mind but it's not working. but regardless, he'll be getting what he wants. you.

uncle leon who goes through a fight with you and obviously, you fail. all that hassle just to get numerous bruises on you. while you were laid out there, he took the time to undress you in your vulnerable state uncle leon who made sure to tie your hands together to the headboard so you couldn't struggle or fight with him anymore. not like you could, he did a number on you

"m'so sorry... i told you i didn't want to hurt you but you brought it out of me.."

uncle leon who leaves kisses on your neck and down to your exposed chest after he unbuttoned your shirt. uncle leon who knows you can't do anything more but sob and watch him mess around with you. you didn't even have a say uncle leon who has no patience anymore, pulling his cock out for you to clearly see. you're freaking out

uncle leon who is getting pleasure out of seeing you panic. it's making him harder than he should be as he spreads your bare legs apart, seeing more of that dripping cunt of yours

"someone's a little impatient..."

uncle leon who mutters to himself, prodding the head of his cock along your folds. uncle leon who hears your pleads but doesn't bother to listen. he just proceeds onto pushing his cock inside of you without second guessing at all. uncle leon who took your virginity. took your first. your everything. the very thing that was meant to be for a lover in the future. uncle leon who got off to seeing the pain in your eyes, the bruises along your body and more as you laid there beneath him while he was busy pleasuring himself

"y'feel so good...god, i love you."

uncle leon who praises and says he "loves you" numerous times as you helplessly moan and cry out. natural reaction from your body but in reality you were horrified.

uncle leon who soon finishes up after you completely had given up on pleading and crying for him to stop. he leaves you in bed, shaken up, cum pouring out of you and some splattered along your body. he feels satisfied with that dirty smirk on his face again before tucking you in bed. uncle leon who gets dressed and shuts your door, going back to the living room just as your parents had gotten home.

"goodness..thank you for watching over the house. we appreciate it." "no need to thank me, plus i had your guy's little helper around to help me watch the house anyways. she's off snoozin' though. got tired trying to stay up as long as me"

uncle leon who knows how to lie and play it cool like nothing ever happened. uncle leon who got away with what he did that night. uncle leon who will be coming around randomly just to get his filthy hands on you. again and again.

#uncle!leon #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut #🕊️ — drabs

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piratefishmama · 8 months

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Finders Givers | Part 5

“So why’d you freak out?” Eddie expected the grilling, the second they left that extravagant building, he expected the grilling. “I mean, they were both super nice, I mean… Robin was… wow, I mean did you see her? I just—” he also kind of expected that, with the way Chrissy had just frozen at her entrance? Yeah. he expected that. “Wowzers y’know? But Steve was really nice too! He’d have probably offered us those jobs Eddie, we need jobs! Just cause rent is frozen doesn’t mean we don’t need jobs, we could save up our wages and use it on like, a holiday or something, we could go to Hawaii an be dumb white people tourists like in Lilo and Sti—”

“Did you not feel the vibes that guy was giving off?” Eddie didn’t usually interrupt her, she could go on a tangent, and the tangents were usually pretty cute so he’d often just let her go on with herself until she ran out of topics, allowing her to feel comfortable to just talk without feeling like she shouldn’t, but this time… he couldn’t hold it in.

“Steve?” She didn’t seem to mind though “yeah, I almost offered to let you two have some alone time, he was giving you serious bedroom eyes—”

“Chrissy no, nope! Not that! No he’s—he’s weird.”

“Weird in a hot way? Cause in my humble opinion he was working that suit. Do you think that tan was natural because oo-wee was it working for him.”

“Well yes, we both have eyes, but also no, dangerous weird, y’know? Something felt wrong about him, Chriss.” He felt like he was drifting in open waters and Steve was a huge leviathan type thing just waiting in the depths beneath him to drag him down away from light, away from life.

“You’re just saying that because he’s the boss of this big multimillion dollar company. Next you’ll be saying he’s capitalism personified or something, rich man buys out the neighbourhood, blah blah I can’t do your infamous table speeches, but listen, Eddie, he’s… he seems nice, maybe he is just nice.”

“And maybe he’s the mafia.”

“Eddie…”

“HE COULD BE! We don’t know that he isn’t.”

“This isn’t a movie, Eddie, c’mon let's just go home, maybe we can call up later about those jobs, yeah? It couldn’t hurt to work at a place you play at. Lenny wouldn’t give us the time of day when we tried applying for jobs there before, maybe we can get one now, it’s like… fate! Maybe Steve and Robin will come in one night and we can wow them with our fancy bartender skills, which we’ll of course learn through extensive trial and error, maybe a training montage, I’ll get my very own uptown girl an you’ll get your own hot rich man who’ll buy you fancy things and pamper you like I know you won’t admit you like but I know you’d eat that shit up.”

“Thought you just said this wasn’t a movie.”

“Some movies are based on real life stories! It could happen! It’s more likely than the mafia, c’mon.” Well… she had a point, they did need jobs, and Steve had… well he’d been nice hadn’t he?

There could be so many ulterior motives to what he was doing but why would it have to negatively affect them? It could just negatively affect some dude called Phil who lived two states over, it didn’t even have to involve them, really. Besides getting them a new job, right?

Right?

“…Fine, but you can send over our resumes, I don’t want anything to do with this! If the handsome rich devil man decides to give us the jobs, and comes into the bar, and I HAPPEN to serve him, and impress him then I will concede that the universe would like me to have a nice thing happen, but I will not go looking for fairytale endings, okay?” He knew better than to get his hopes up.

Steve Harrington had looked at him like he was dinner, he’d done the whole stuck staring stupid bit, and it’d been endearing, cute, surprising considering holy shit Steve was like… way out of his league, but… if the universe wanted it to happen then the universe would make it happen!

Eddie would have no part in the process of it happening! He’d just… indulge a little in the end result.

“Someday, Eddie. Someday I’m going to convince you to go and find good things for yourself, and you’ll see just how easy it is to make yourself happy.”

“Someday perhaps, but today is not that day.”

“Be honest now… what did you think of him?” It wasn’t a common thing, Steve sat in front of Robin’s desk, in the chair opposite her big floor to ceiling windows, with Robin looking pretty menacing in her high backed chair, shadowed, her hands steepled at her chin, thumbs pressed into her own throat in thought, her silence stretched long enough for him to tack on “think from a non-lesbian standpoint.”

“I think he looks like a passel of Opossum in a trench coat. A domesticated raccoon, a wet rat that some cruel individual permed for some reason.”

“Well that’s mean, and definitely not from a non-lesbian standpoint.”

“That’s from a person with eyes standpoint.” Steve rolled his own eyes and slumped backwards in the chair like a petulant teenager, arms crossed over his chest. “He looks like he’d scamper, Steve.”

“What’s wrong with scampering?! It’s cute to scamper!”

“It’s reserved for tiny critters, not fully grown adult men.”

“Men can scamper if they want to, don’t you impose your weird masculine rules on us, Robbie, it’s problematic.”

“I swear to god if I catch you on twitter—” shook her head, hand lifted to cut herself off “Steve… is this guy really worth all the money you’re throwing at this?” It was a lot of money, a lot, and they wouldnt get any of it back.

“I mean… I don’t know, but then I didn’t know if Jane would be worth it, or if she’d get any use out of the bakery I bought for her, I didn’t know if paying Nancy’s debts off would be worth it, I didn’t know if any of you would be worth the effort and money I put in to bring you all in and keep you all healthy and safe, and I still did what I did for all of you, so… why is this guy any different?” So far he’d been a spectacular judge of character. “Plus!!! He comes with a very cute blonde!! I’m sure you noticed the very cute blonde.”

“Aren’t you worried that they might be dating?” It was a very good point, and one he hadn’t actually considered. But then—

“If they are then they are, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t give them a chance like I gave all of you guys a chance.” Anyone who’d knock the shit out of their manager for their friend or partner was alright by him, it showed a loyalty that laughed in the face of authority, he LIKED when people laughed in the face of authory. Authority figures needed to be laughed at sometimes. And punched other times. Robin’s shoulders slacked, her expression shifting to one of soft amusement. “Yooooou wanted me to say that didn’t you?”

“Maybe a little. Just making sure you’re not thinking entirely with your dick. They’re not dating by the way… she’s not even a little bit his type.” Eddie had been quite open about his own sexuality, on purpose or just as a spur of the moment thing, Robin didn’t know, but it was nice to know Steve’s interest wasn’t entirely a lost cause.

“I was wondering why you dropped my relationship status in there.”

“Mmm… I did notice the very cute blonde… she seemed nice.” Bubbly, cute, like a cheerleader “and only because Chrissy seemed very nice… only because I would very much like to see her again… am I going to agree to go along with this nonsense without further complaint.”

“You cant agree to go along with something without complaint while calling it nonsense.”

“Watch me, Dingus.”

#PirateWrites #FindersGiversFiclet #Steddie #Mob Boss Steve Harrington #No Upside Down AU #Shady!Steve #CW: light-hearted stalker vibes

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