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mrsshabana · 1 year

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♡ 𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑩𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 ♡

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 𝟓𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

CW: NSFW, 18+ MDNI, female reader, blood, gore, manipulation, smut, creampie, violence

AN: Thank you all so much for 500 followers!! I can't believe that this happened so quickly, it was only a month ago that I made my 300 follower special! I want to thank everyone who took the time to support me this far. And I'd also like to welcome everyone that is new here! There will be lots more Gyutaro content to come ~ ♡

Gyutaro doesn’t understand his romantic feelings towards you. He expresses them in ways that are difficult for you to decipher. So he just acts on impulse. Usually having no filter or boundaries.

Treats you like a toy. Similar to how a vindictive child would treat a small puppy.

He’ll make you cry just so he can be the one to comfort you in the end.

As a demon, he thinks he’s superior to you in every way. The only thing you have going for you is your pretty face and beautiful body.

He’ll coo and hold you close, complimenting your beauty only to claw at you flesh. Leaving wounds and bruises on your most beautiful features. He wants to destroy your beauty out of envy, but yet it’s what attracts him to you.

Before him, your life was meaningless. So now that he’s here, you don’t exist outside of him. Without him you are nothing. Which is why he keeps you stored in his sister’s obi whenever he’s away. Sometimes leaving you for days before he wants to play with you again.

Gyutaro grew a soft spot for you because of your juxtaposition. You don’t show disgust towards things that most people consider revolting, like reptiles or people that look different from you, but yet you are the most beautiful human he’s ever seen.

Every time Gyutaro thinks of your beauty, he claws deep red wounds into his flesh, fantasizing about gutting you alive, slitting your throat while digging his hands through your intestines. But the way that you look at him prevents him from doing so. You look at him with fear in your eyes, but without a hint of disgust. After 100 years of hunting humans, Gyutaro knows the difference.

It infuriates him that he can’t bring himself to hate you for your beauty. This frustration is always taken out on you. In the form of cuts and bruises.

But after being held captive for so long, you’ve learned how to behave around him. And things do get better.

Gyutaro is incredibly intelligent, he just doesn’t understand emotions. Especially ones that he never even got to experience as a human, let alone a demon.

He can read you like a book. Always aware of when you are plotting an escape attempt or when you are lying to him. You learn quickly that there’s no point in trying to fool him.

The thing is, eventually you have grown a soft spot for the demon. The few moments that he is vulnerable with you, have shown you a beauty that you thought impossible for a creature such as himself.

After an argument with his sister, he’ll show you a side of him that you’ve never seen before. The sadness and deep anguish that he holds within himself. No one deserves to have such pains. Even a man-eating demon like Gyutaro.

You want to comfort him and heal his wounds.

As a demon, Gyutaro doesn’t have much sexual desire. He feels no biological urge to reproduce. The only urge within him is to destroy and devour.

But when you’re around, that all changes. Something within him yearns for your touch, your love.

He’s seen humans have sex before, and even though he doesn’t quite understand it, he wants to try. It’s not uncommon for Gyutaro to witness humans having sex in the district. But now, everytime he sees such things, he imagines what it’d be like to do it with you. The tent forming in his pants isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before, but there’s an urgency behind it now. Whereas before he’d be able to ignore it. But now it seems to control his every thought. Blood and carnage replaced by thoughts of your fragile body lying beneath his.

Gyutaro isn’t embarrassed about his desire to have sex with you. He will be completely open and up front with you about it, because he’s been surrounded by sex his entire life. So to him it’s just a normal thing that humans do. He doesn’t understand the social norms/stigmas surrounding sex.

During your first time having sex, it will be the first time that he’s careful with you.

Once he is accustomed to having sex with you, he will start being more rough. Pulling your hair, biting your neck, and thrusting his hips into you so hard that you bruise.

He’s touch starved, so it makes sense that he gets overwhelmed by the pleasure of having sex with you. He loses himself in you. Fucking you like his life depends on it, moaning and groaning with every thrust.

Even after he fills you up with his cum, he won’t stop.

He keeps going until he can see that you are exhausted. He may be selfish but he still cares about you. He doesn’t want to push you too far past your limit and risk breaking you.

Surprisingly he’s big on aftercare. Most of the time he’ll fuck you til your legs stop working, so he takes initiative in cleaning you up and tucking you into bed. He loves cuddling you and feeling you tremble in his arms from having orgasmed so many times.

Your sexual experiences with Gyutaro changes your relationship drastically. His feelings for you start to come through in less toxic ways as he begins to understand his feelings. But when he gets annoyed by them or they become too strong, he thinks that having sex will make it go away. When in reality they just make these potent emotions even stronger.

Showing affection towards him will usually calm him down. Once you are able to love him and he can accept your love, things get much easier for the both of you.

It will take lots of time, and the likelihood of surviving that long is slim. But if you do, it’ll be well worth it.

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #follower milestone

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lesinquietes · 6 months

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But can you imagine being on discussion boards talking shit about the League of Villains after the whole Overhaul situation like “lol still got fucked by all might at kamino tho” and that being the ONE comment Shigaraki reads that sets him over the edge???

Inspired fic

⚠️ mdni. death (minor), degradation, kidnapping, mind break, noncon, oral, stalking, yandere.

Like, my man just fucking loses it, totally seething at the notion that there are still people out there who don’t take him seriously. So he doxes you and finds out where you live. If you don’t reside by yourself, god help your partner, roommate(s), or family members. Your pets, too. They’re all dust. He waits for you to get home like a parent catching their kid in the act of sneaking out.

And of course, you never thought your shitposting would result in this — the leader of the League of Villains showing up and committing personal crimes against you. You’re flabbergasted when you return to your residence and find him there, amidst the carnage he’s left. It destroys your mind. You’ll never be the same again. You’re wracking your memories, trying to recall if you ever had an encounter with Shigaraki. It’s only when he cackles hoarsely and grins beneath that big, ugly hand that you make the connection.

“Still don’t think I’m the real deal, sweetheart?”

He takes a daunting step towards you. You’re paralyzed with fear. He wants to teach you a lesson. He thinks he’ll remove a finger; maybe a limb. He’ll keep you alive so you can remember what he did to you.

But as he gets closer to you… he realizes you’re actually pretty cute. No, that’s not the right word; you’re fucking hot. You look like one of his favourite porn stars. It’s your face, it’s your body — he didn’t think you’d be this attractive in person. In fact, perhaps he’s been approaching this the wrong way.

You finch when he grasps your chin. He purposefully keeps one pinky dangling not too far from your cheek. If he wants to, he can kill you. The way your lower lip trembles oh so adorably tells him that you know how vulnerable you are. You have no clue he’s decided there’s a higher purpose for you. His crimson eyes narrow with cruel glee.

“I wonder how the world would feel if I took an innocent civilian as a pet?”

It’s the perfect plan. He has a pretty face to come home to. He has a warm hole to fuck whenever he wants. He corrupts you for society to see. You’ll be humiliated to the point of losing yourself, descending into madness as a martyr for all who doubted him. Yes, he thinks keeping you is a way better idea than dusting you.

The heights he goes to ensure you know your place are higher than you ever thought they’d be. He forces you to worship him. He makes you kiss and suck on his fingers — the very things that could end your life in a breath. On various occasions, he coaxes you into sucking him off on camera, so he can make a montage for when he reveals your broken mind to the world. It’s sick; he doesn’t debate that. He wants to put you through the worst. Not only does he get off on degrading pretty sluts like you, but he can wear you down this way.

Braindead and willing is how he wants you.

Braindead and willing is how he’ll have you.

#I’m howling at this thought hahahaha it’s so stupid #and yet I still somehow managed to jam smut into it #this is a shitpost guys I’m sorry #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #yandere tomura shigaraki #tomura x reader #tw noncon #afab reader

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cultofdixon · 6 months

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Let me help, sunshine

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Your anxiety toward your own self worth because of what’s happen to you, makes it hard to be a part of certain things. But he’s so in love with you that you never had to worry. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Injuries / Limping / Canon Violence

Requested by: Anon

It feels like a fever dream. The good.

Y/N stood outside the burning prison holding herself as she shook from the blasts that forced her out of the bed she almost died in. The force from the blast also knocked her on her side, resulting in injury…

She’s been limping trying to find another from her group, or really shelter for that matter.

This feels like the start of the outbreak all over again. Struggling to walk through the destroyed earth and being mistaken as the undead. One too many accidents happened because of such.

The Claimers found her alone before Daryl joined them, even before Rick killed one of their own. He didn’t know Y/N was a part of them because their paths never crossed, and then again Y/N wasn’t…free. She was controlled that entire time, even when Daryl ended up with them.

He was relieved to find her alive. Relieved on an astronomical level…but it wasn’t a happy reunion. The two of them…

Daryl tried to check on her when he first saw she was with them. But this Len or Lenny guy blocked his way and glared at the archer.

“She’s been claimed, buddy”

The archer of course didn’t know what that meant but given her tense posture and the injuries that looked fresh, this group was one of the messed up ones. Or at least this guy that said such.

Their leader explained the rules. Whatever you see that you want, you say “claimed” then no one can do anything about it. Daryl instantly questioned why it was used on a person and was met with obvious looks that made his skin crawl.

“He won’t do nothin’ around us.” Joe laughs leading the way and the group started to walk.

Daryl wasn’t going to leave her and didn’t want to fight anyone in case they’d inflict anything on Y/N. Because little does she know…

When this group started to move and Y/N slowly faded into the back of the group, Daryl looked to the one who “claimed” her and given he wasn’t forcing her back beside him. He took that as his chance to talk to her in hopes no one notices.

But before he got a word in—-

“I’m glad you’re alive” Y/N whispers to Daryl as both felt that reassuring warmth grow in their chest, relieved that the other is still standing.

“Are you okay?” He whispers as she didn’t say a word but shook her head. She looks like a wreck. “You understand this claim nonsense?”

“I know if I just touched your arm, I will meet the short end of that stick”

Daryl wanted to help her given she seemed to be having trouble walking. But this situation with the Claimers only escalated.

This Len guy that claimed her, wanted to get rid of Daryl and decided to use their rules against him. Though it backfired on the guy and the leader in a way, preferred Daryl in their group. But when Len met the other end of a bolt…that brought up an uncomfortable situation.

“Can we claim what was his?” One of the Claimers stated and Daryl instantly stepped in front of Y/N covering her.

“Claimed.” He states and glared at those who even had the thought, which was most of them. Joe laughs a bit to himself and to Daryl’s eagerness.

“She’s yours, man. Even if she is kind of a dud” Joe continued to laugh and every fiber of Daryl’s being wanted to snap him in half, but given she doesn’t have to worry about any of them laying a hand on her. He could check their injuries at the next break they take.

But the next break happened in the middle of a road…where they were met with those who killed one of their own…that happened to be their family. Daryl did his best to intervene, even Y/N.

Then of course, violence was the only answer there.

It happened fast.

Rick taking out Joe, Michonne going after the Claimer keeping her down and the two going for the one on Carl. Daryl took out one of the Claimers on him as Y/N took down the other on the archer.

But the remaining Claimer knocked Y/N onto the ground, pinning her and the painful scream that ripped out of her when he applied all his weight on her already bad leg…triggered Daryl to full on football tackle this man off of Y/N and boy did he meet his maker.

Daryl went to check on Y/N but she wasn’t letting anyone touch her in the moment. He kept a respectable distance when they recuperated for the night and Y/N held onto herself for most of her avoiding eye contact from everybody. She was really wishing they didn’t lose the prison in that moment. Then she wouldn’t have succumbed to all the pain from the illness to her leg causing a lot of discomfort.

“Have you been with this group since the fall of the prison?” Michonne asked Y/N as she shook her head struggling to catch up to her pace when they walked to this ‘Terminus’ place. “Did you see anyone when you woke up? From the illness…”

“I heard Glenn, but I wasn’t quick enough to getting out. He wasn’t there anymore when I got out so there’s hope that he’s still alive”

“And knowing Maggie, she’s probably lookin’ for him” Michonne reassures whatever ounce of anxiety courses in Y/N’s mind when it came to the living status of their family.

Daryl glances back every once in a while to check on Y/N, making sure she was still behind them. She was getting slower and slower the more they walked endlessly.

And that only got worse after Terminus, and after the hospital…

The group was walking endlessly to a shelter that they have no idea exists. Everyone followed Rick’s lead and didn’t question it, but everyone was exhausted. Depressed. Mourning. It was just too much to deal with. Every break they took felt like it wasn’t enough and Y/N didn’t want to share anything on her mind when it came to her physical well-being. Meaning every thought of “just another five minutes” got shoved down and she found herself dragging her injured leg to avoid limping and stepping on it at times causing the sharp pain to radiate.

Her family took notice of the times she end up in the back and those who didn’t want to face the pain they endured mentally, they would stick with her and talk about it. She couldn’t just walk away, not that she would either. It was difficult to push her pain aside, literally.

“Why is he always looking back here…” Y/N whispers, catching Carol’s attention to look ahead noticing Daryl checking on them every now and then.

“You are always at the back. He’s checking on you. Making sure you’re still with us” Hm…

“It’s just…the deadpan look” Y/N shivered slightly a bit tense. “He’s a bit intimidating…and mysterious. But he’s kinda been like that always…just a bit more protective ever since reuniting…”

Carol may not know about what happened from the prison to terminus regarding her friends. But she knew why Daryl would be protective of Y/N.

The walking became rougher the more their group grew tired and dehydrated…Y/N started to think about staying behind. Because the stops didn’t last long but she found herself taking a while to get back up. Least her wounds weren’t bleeding anymore. The bruises lingered. Main thing being the limp and swelling…

Daryl couldn’t help the anxious feeling he got when the group started to pick back up after they had a break to look around their surroundings for food and water. He checked the group around him and then to the back…

No Y/N.

He didn’t want to rile anybody up and make everyone freak out, so he did his usual check around the group until he got to the back and once no one was looking he started to track back. It didn’t take long for him to find Y/N still sitting at the last spot they took a break at, she just thought it would be easier on them if she disappeared.

“Daryl…” Y/N frowns watching him kneel down to her noticing how bad her leg was and mentally beating himself up for not taking care of it sooner. A lot happened, there wasn’t a big enough window to take care of it. “You shouldn’t be here”

“Oh yeah? And you should?” His anger spilled into his tone with a hint of regret. “Why didn’t yea holler for anyone? Or me?”

“Thought it be easier…” Daryl gave her that same deadpan look that made Y/N now sigh because of the situation. “For me to just. Not hold y’all back”

“That ain’t right. Ain’t right one bit” Daryl scoffs trying to help Y/N up but she smacked his hands away for a moment. “Y/N.”

“Daryl just go. Seriously.” She frowns. “I don’t want to hold anyone back. That’s why I just told a few of y’all that I’ll catch up…”

“But you weren’t. And yea didn’t even tell me that. Since yea knew I would argue…well I’m gonna fucking argue” He sets his crossbow down turning himself around and patting his shoulders for her arms.

Y/N was confused. Confused as to why he cared so much. But she complied as she was too exhausted to try and defend her point in any way. What even was there to defend? She didn’t want to be the burden that she currently was and didn’t want to hold the group back. Daryl got that but every fiber of his being would scream if she wasn’t with them.

The retired sheriff gained suspicion when both Daryl and Y/N weren’t around him. But when he turned toward the back he saw the two. Daryl carried Y/N on his back as she had his crossbow on hers. He sighed a bit relieved before continuing further.

All this walking…made the suspicion thing of water magically appearing, very appealing.

“You think it’s poisoned?” Carol questions Rick as he shrugs, still not trusting it though.

“Someone is watching us”

“So we shouldn’t trust it” Sasha states watching Eugene instantly go for a bottle and the moment he opened it, Abraham smacked it out of his hand. “Seriously?”

“What?! Someone has to test it for poison”

“Should’ve been me” Y/N scoffs. “I doubt imma last much longer on this leg”

“Stop.” Daryl couldn’t help but be upset by such as he blocked her from going over to it. Even if she wasn’t going to.

Then a miracle happened, or a coincidence, whichever you believe in…when the rain started to pour. Few started to open the bottles, empty them and fill it with the rain. Others enjoyed the downpour…and those who’ve lost took it all in

Y/N still kept close to Daryl, this time for warmth but she felt uneasy…nothing changed with the physical feeling but something pained her chest as she looks up at Daryl noticing the sadness that radiated from his blank expression. She took a chance by gently interlocking her fingers with his as he instantly brought his attention to their hands before looking at her.

“I’m gonna be okay, Dixon. I have you”

Her words struck him down, while the rain actually made her fall down from slipping. A small laugh was shared even if that drew more worry from Daryl’s end.

The two have been close and the time from the Claimers to the barn being told about this new place that they could call home brought them closer. Now the group was being evaluated to be helpful around the community, they took their chances with it. With caution of course.

“How’s your leg?” Maggie asks Y/N once she got settled on the couch, after being told to stay out by both Daryl and Rick.

“The surgeon guy they have said I won’t lose it but I have to stop walking on it”

“And yea better listen” Daryl was quick to add bringing himself to the window behind the couch sticking close. Maggie let out a small laugh to his response but she knew he cared for Y/N.

It’s been a day and a half with being in this new community and Daryl kept to himself for the most part. Sticking outside on the porch of Carol’s on the side that connects to Rick’s. He would look in the window every now and then to check on Y/N making sure she stayed put. She slept for the most part given she didn’t let herself sleep when with the Claimers and during the illness she was afraid to. Finally not dealing with any threat she thought it would be okay and she was being taken care of so nothing to worry about.

Reg, Deanna’s husband, made his way over to the Grimes’ residence when most of them were out and Daryl instantly shot up from the porch when he got to the steps.

“Heard y’all had someone with a bum leg. Thought I’d bring these over” He states pointing out the crutches in hand. “We found them a while ago but knew Pete didn’t want your person using them immediately.”

“Thanks.”

“You gonna give them to…?”

“Y/N.” Daryl brought himself to the Grimes side and took the crutches as Reg smiles in his direction when he didn’t return it back. “Her name is Y/N”

“She’s important to yea, huh? I can tell” Reg smiles with a laugh followed as Daryl felt a twitch of a smile that he did his best to hide.

“I uh. Better get these to her…”

“If you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask” Reg adds while taking his leave as Daryl watches him go to make sure he was gone before going inside the house.

The man always manages to sneak up on everybody, but to his surprise Y/N wasn’t asleep and gave him a smile the second he walked in.

“You shower yet?” She smirks listening to him scoff instantly. “Carol made me ask next time you came in to check in on me”

“You know I’ve been checking on yea?”

“You are sneaky, but not that sneaky” Y/N smiles bringing her legs off the couch patting the space next to her. Daryl approached at first because of the discomfort that grew on her face when she moved her leg, but then sat with her when she relaxed once more. “Those for me?”

“Nah they’re for me” Daryl jokes, a bad one, but it got a small laugh from Y/N. “The swelling down?”

“Yes. Not completely but enough to move around I guess…” She carefully brought her leg onto the coffee table showing Daryl as his worry poured out of him but in his own way. His eyes said everything. “Daryl, can I ask you something?”

“Mhm”

“Why…why were you so upset when I told you to leave me behind? I didn’t…if this place never came, I wouldn’t have wanted to be a burden to you all”

“And I can’t live in a world without you” Daryl without any hesitation admits a hidden feeling that Y/N, of course, didn’t connect that at all by everything he’s done. But it made sense…

“Daryl…”

“I wanted to go back in, when that son of a bitch attacked the prison…but Beth dragged me out. Tellin’ me you’re still alive. I believed her, but I was angry” Daryl frowns keeping his eyes onto his hands as he messes with a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. “I would’ve been angry forever if I let yea die in there…then those fuckers had yea. Hurt yea…and thank fuck they met their end, for ever laying a hand on you. But it just got worse and you were hurting the entire time that I just. I just needed to control one thing just for a moment…to keep you around…so I’d understand if yea don’t feel the same way or anythin’. But I’ll always do my best to keep yea around. For everybody, for myself, and for you.”

The immediate silence gave mixed signals to Daryl but before he could even have the thought of getting up and giving her space. Y/N gently brought her hand to his, letting him carefully take hers.

“I know you’re serious about your feelings…Im a bit…taken back…because I’ve never been a first choice or whatever. I’m not the best at explaining my feelings”

“Neither am I” His thumb rubs circles against her hand feeling her squeeze his hand while a soft giggle escapes her lips.

“Yeah, but at least you said something” Y/N smiles warmly. “Because let’s be real. Rick or Carol or Maggie—-literally anyone in our group. Would’ve probably had to lock us in a room together to get one of us to say something…if my anxiety of being locked in places didn’t kick in” he hums for a quick response taking in her words.

“I thought I scared yea. That’s why I didn’t say nothin’ sooner”

“Mm. You are intimidating, but I was more afraid of being rejected more than anything”

“So…”

“It’s mutual, Dixon” Y/N continues to smile leaning into his space pressing her lips against his cheek as his eyes closed to impact, and he found himself leaning toward her when she pulled away. “We’ll take it slow, Daryl. But to reassure you…I’m yours and no one will change my mind”

Daryl exhales finally letting that weight of possible rejection go as he turned entirely toward her releasing her hand and gently brushing the loose hair out of the way of her beautiful face. Admiring every feature for a moment.

“Will you let me finally help yea, sunshine?”

And so she did.

It took a few days to get used to walking without the help of crutches or her family hovering whenever they got the chance. Y/N was given a pantry job like Olivia which made it easier for Rick’s plans and Daryl got close with Aaron so he’s been planning a run with him while also building a bike. Which lifted his spirits when in this place, beside her of course.

“Hey!”

Daryl quickly turns to the voice after turning his bike on and tried to fight back the smile that succeeded in shinning through when Y/N made her way over to him without too much of a struggle.

“Hey…how’re yea feelin’?”

“Better. Going on a test run?”

“Yeah, ain’t letting yea on it until I know it won’t fling yea off without me knowing”

“So considerate” She laughs followed by a smile. “Be safe. Can’t have you limping”

“Mhm. I will…and even if shit happened, I know I’ve got yea”

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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yourheart-inmyhands · 8 months

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Hiya! I'm happy that You enjoyed my idea! And I realy liked how you wrote it! Especialy the Furina part :D

I'm not sure if you are okay with writing this, but if you are: Which of the Genshin characters would handled their lovers death the worst?

- 🐶 anon

oooo this one was really good! i couldn't pick just one so i did five little short ones! I hope you enjoy :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including lots of talk about death, delusional behavior, childish temper tantrums, making puppets of reader, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Furina would throw an absolute fit, upset at the idea of you dying on her, of you leaving her. She has to be pulled away from your corpse by Neuvillette because she’s screaming as she shakes it in a panicked manner. She’s desperate for you to wake up, screaming and crying as she tries to convince herself that you aren’t really dead. That you haven’t left her. She has to take a leave of absence from the court for a while, grief is a difficult thing and she doesn’t handle it well.

Yandere!Raiden would be enraged. You promised to spend eternity with her, and now you were trying to back out of it? She won’t let you. She does everything in her power to bring you back, from creating a puppet of you to trapping your soul in the Plane of Euthymia. Nothing is right though, the puppet doesn’t feel the way you used to, it doesn’t behave like it should. Your soul isn’t any better, it can only replay strong memories from when you were alive, leaving Raiden feeling like she’s talking to a movie. She destroys the puppet and hides your soul away in a far corner of the Plane, though she feels equally as awful afterwards.

Yandere!Wanderer is distraught when he loses you, he had lost so many before and yet, this one hurt the most. He sits on the outskirts of Sumeru City for a while, remaining stock still on a bench as he just feels. While he seems composed on the outside, on the inside he’s in pure agony. He doesn’t want to think or feel or move or do anything at all because everything just reminds him of you. It takes months for him to move from the bench, sitting there day in and day out despite the weather, and when he does move it’s only to sit in front of your grave. There he sits for another month, just staring at the name that once belonged to his loved one, now passed. The lover who left him, just like everyone else did.

Yandere!Xiao blames himself for your death, whether it's an accident, intentional, or simply of something you couldn’t stop like aging or sickness, Xiao will think it’s his fault. It’s always his fault, everything was because he wasn’t strong enough to protect you. The next year is spent with Xiao hardly being seen by anyone, not even food could lure him out. He spends all his time fighting, killing anything and everything in sight that deserves it as he tries to let the burn of his karmic debt distract from the ache in his heart. He refuses to visit your grave, making Zhongli bury you and not even attending your funeral. Not because he doesn’t love you, but because he can’t bring himself to attend. He thinks he’s the reason you’re dead and he didn’t think you’d want him in attendance. He spends the rest of his life span thinking you died hating him, blaming him.

Yandere!Diluc is unsure of how to feel when you pass. He’d felt the pain of losing his father, and while he’s not dead, Diluc had lost his brother for many years in a way. But your death was different, it didn’t make him so upset he was driven to violence like his father, but rather made him want to simply lay there and cry. He spent a week straight just in bed after your funeral, hands idly tracing over the side of the bed you once slept on. He keeps everything exactly how you left it, never touching a thing incase one day, somehow, you came back to him. He wanted you to know that he loved you so much that he left everything just how you liked it.

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heliads · 4 months

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Hi! Hope I’m not too late, could I request a Derek Hale x reader where she (already knowing ab the supernatural) gets tired of Derek constantly disappearing from her life whenever he does that Derek thing until finally she’s fed up with it being the one to disappear this time idk how to end it or go from there but I was thinking of an angsty hurt/comfort with a happy ending🥺! Hope it’s enough, thank you!!

'the one who leaves ' - derek hale

masterlist

The hardest part of both being a werewolf and knowing a werewolf is, and will always be, the horrors. The attacks that never cease, the blood always shed. The second hardest part is the strain of being with someone whose life is always in jeopardy purely because of who they are. Although it doesn’t feel nearly as important as the constant threat of hunters, or the latest monster to decide that Beacon Hills should be its new domain, sometimes you swear the second part hangs even more heavily about your heart than the first. Then again, maybe that’s just because of Derek Hale.

Derek is one of the most complicated players on the supernatural chess board. You met him what feels like a lifetime ago, when one of seemingly dozens of supernatural attacks had threatened the lives of Beacon Hills citizens. Derek had saved your life. A month later, you’d saved him from some hunters. The back-and-forth of life saving went on and on until the two of you decided you were better as friends than people a little too important to each other to be acquaintances, and then the boundaries were shifted again when you started dating.

Sometimes, though, on rough nights after long fights and darker ones when you haven’t seen Derek in weeks and he doesn’t seem all that inclined to answer your texts or voicemails, you start to think that entering into a relationship with you is one of Derek’s biggest regrets. It’s not that he doesn’t care for you; Derek has assured you many times over that his feelings for you are stronger even than his loyalties to his pack, his commitment to killing the hunters responsible for the Hale House fire, yet the problem remains.

Derek is all too familiar with the struggle of having a weakness. When his ancestral home burned down with most of his family trapped inside, he learned for the first time that sometimes a mortal blow capable of destroying his life doesn’t have to threaten him specifically. When he loves someone so much that he prioritizes their safety above his own, Derek creates a weakness that hunters and other supernaturals can exploit. He would never forgive himself if you were hurt as a tool to get to him, so Derek has been doing his best to limit the fallout of any supernatural fight onto you.

However, this only seems to drive the two of you apart. Yes, by not being seen in public as often anymore, Derek lowers the possibility that a hunter would try to kidnap you as a hostage, but it also means that you see him less and less frequently. When you do finally manage to meet up, after thoroughly checking to make sure you haven’t been tailed, and only after dark in one of your houses, you’re both exhausted, wrung dry of the same life and spirit that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

It’s not the same anymore. You hate to admit it, but it’s true. Loving Derek is no longer the beautiful victory it had always been. Instead, you feel as if you’ve lost the war. Derek isn’t yours anymore. If he was, you wouldn’t have to hide what the two of you share, you wouldn’t have to constantly stare at the long list of missed calls on your phone and wonder when he’ll ever pick up, if he even wants to anymore. Derek is doing a great job at keeping you safe, but somewhere along the line, the two of you got your priorities mixed up. Now you’re alone and he’s alive, and you don’t know that you’re any happier about it than you would have been if one of you were lost to the hunters.

At this point, why try? Why even bother with the pretense of maintaining the ruse? The two of you might as well not even be together at all. It doesn’t feel like you are, certainly, when you go so long in between visits. Even when the two of you are finally face to face, Derek is harried and brief, hardly staying longer than a few hours before rushing off again, never to be seen for another few months.

It wears away at you like a river at a stone. Your sharp edges, the ones that pierced through his shell so easily at the beginning of it all, have been smoothed to nothingness. Each of your attempts to break through to Derek and coax him into staying even a little longer are brushed off with simple excuses. It’s like you don’t even exist to him anymore.

Fine. Fine. If you’re not a person to him anymore, he will not be a person to you. You pack up your things and leave Beacon Hills early one morning, only telling Scott McCall and Deaton over at the vet so they can contact you if need be. You don’t say a word about your absence to Derek. Why bother? He’s not even in town, hasn’t been for months. When he comes back– if he attempts to come back at all– he can ask one of his friends and hear the same answer that he would from you right now. There’s no point in wasting either of your time any longer.

You’re still engaged in fighting the good fight against the supernatural. Deaton is a longtime friend of yours, and he’d been hearing rumors of a peculiarity a couple of states over. He couldn’t afford to leave Beacon Hills for an extended period of time, being so important to the town as one of its last defenders, so you offered to go instead. It would be good for you, you said. The trip. Being able to clear your head.

Odds are, Deaton had been able to see through that excuse as he has many of your others all throughout your life, but he had just nodded and said that he was grateful for your help. With that, you left town. You’ve been in Beacon Hills for your entire life, excluding brief excursions in the name of school or work or family trips. Never before have you left like this, not entirely sure if you would ever come back, uncertain that the person you love most of all would be there to want you to return.

At first, the trip feels like a terror. Then you roll down the windows and let the early morning light touch your face with soft, bright fingers; then the breeze cools your face, running over your skin in loose circles; then you start to breathe at last, for the first time in what feels like years. Then you remember that you are still a person worth saving, and maybe even if Derek Hale cannot do that, you can save yourself by leaving.

The miles pass by in moments. You’re long gone by the time anyone starts waking up. Scott knew that you were leaving and told the other teenagers in his pack so they wouldn’t freak out, but he still texts you anyway. Hope you find what you’re looking for.

So do I, you message him back at a red light. Stay safe.

Thanks, he responds, then no more.

You end up in the state of your choice by the middle of the afternoon, booking a room at a hotel so you can have a home base while properly surveying the area. You don’t have a supernatural’s knack for telling when something is wrong, but the hairs on the back of your neck prickle anyway, letting you know that the currents of the wind around this city have a magical edge, a certain element that sets them aside from a normal town. Good. You could use something fantastical and uncommon.

You don’t know when you expect to hear back from Derek. Never, maybe. You had assumed that he wouldn’t try to reach out to you until he got back, which might be anywhere from a few months from now to never. Once he returned to Beacon Hills, Derek could hear from Scott as to why you weren’t there anymore. You and Derek hardly spoke at all anymore, except out of an obligation to make sure you were still alive. He probably wouldn’t care at all.

Yet not a week has gone by before you start getting frantic texts from Derek.

Y/N. You in town?

Why is your house empty?

Scott tells me you left town. Why didn’t you tell me?

Y/N. Please text back. I’m getting worried.

Three missed calls.

Please pick up, sweetheart. I’ll drive over there myself if I have to. Just tell me you’re alive.

You stare at the notifications for a long time, reveling in how they build in intensity, then tap out a message of your own at last: I’m alive and well.

Derek immediately responds. And you didn’t tell me you were going?

The bright glow of your phone dulls your senses. Nothing feels right, but nothing feels wrong anymore. Loving Derek used to make you feel invincible. Now, you’re just tired, and wishing this exchange would end.

Didn’t think I would have to. You’ve been away for months, and you never tell me when you’re going. Why should I?

Derek doesn’t like that at all. It’s different with me, sweetheart. You know that.

You don’t bother to grace that with a response. Setting your phone on ‘do not disturb,’ you shove the device back in your pocket. It’s good that Derek is unhappy with this turn of events, you decide. For once, he should be the one panicking when he wakes up alone, when he wants to be with the person he loves only for them to disappear without a trace. Why should it be you all the time?

You carry on with your task. As it turns out, the case at hand, the utter unraveling of the supernatural presence in this town, is due to an overactive ancient curse on the town. Deaton talks you through how to shut it down, and once the job is done, you return home, proud of yourself and your accomplishments.

You’re fully expecting Derek to have left town again by the time you got back. He’s been messaging you non stop, but you’ve been leaving most of those messages on ‘unread’ since they all say pretty much the same things: why wouldn’t you tell me you were going, are you alright, come back ASAP. You message back occasionally to assure him that you’re still alive, but mainly, you think a bit of silence would do the both of you some good.

After arriving back at Beacon Hills, you stop by your house to drop off your belongings before visiting Deaton to debrief. He’s glad to hear of your success, but once both of you have ensured that the town was handled accordingly, he breaks protocol to talk about your personal life instead.

“I think you should talk to Derek Hale,” he says uneasily.

You frown at him. “What?”

Deaton glances around to make sure no customers can overhear you, then continues on. “He’s been a wreck ever since you left. He keeps stopping by the shop to demand information from me. He insisted for a long time that I give him the name of the town you were visiting so he could check on you himself, but I kept it from him because I thought you would need to focus.”

“That was the right call,” you assure him. It would, after all, have been more difficult to juggle both an errant curse and a supremely ticked off boyfriend.

Deaton chuckles good-naturedly. “That was what I had assumed. I would still recommend talking to him, though. These sorts of conflicts are best handled sooner rather than later.”

You nod your agreement, and, after talking a few minutes longer, head out towards Derek’s apartment complex. Although you’ve felt bitterly triumphant in the fact that Derek now knows what it’s like to miss somebody like you’ve been missing him, you fell in love with him for a reason, and that reason was that you liked being around him more than you did with anyone else. You still love him, even if the two of you have been on the fringe of an argument for a while now.

That’s what drives you to his building, what carries you up the interminably long elevator ride, what brings you to knock twice on his door and wait until a quiet voice from inside announces that the door is unlocked.

That’s the first sign that something is wrong. Derek never leaves the door unlocked. Some could call it an overwhelming concern for safety, or just plain paranoia, but Derek’s experienced enough tragedy in his life to go overboard in making sure that he keeps all potential avenues of risk firmly blocked off. The fact that the door is unlocked disquiets you more than you like to admit.

Slowly, carefully, you push the door open. Immediately, you’re struck by the gloomy atmosphere of the place. Derek pulled the curtains over the wide windows of his apartment, making the whole place darker and more lifeless than usual. The lights are off. You can assume that Derek can see thanks to his werewolf senses without needing the fluorescents, but for your human eyes, the whole place just seems as dark and grave as a crypt.

“Derek?” You call out hesitantly.

Silence. Then, a husky voice from the back. “Y/N? Is that you?”

You still can’t see him in the gloom, so you cross the apartment to open the blinds on the large windows, hoping to toss some light on the situation. You know the layout of the place from memory, so many visits here help to solidify your knowledge of each piece of furniture in the apartment. Still, you’re not expecting to see Derek crumpled in a chair on the corner, looking significantly the worse for wear.

You’re at his side in an instant. “Derek? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says listlessly. “Not like you knew a thing about that, though, disappearing like that.”

Your concern for him starts to fade away, replaced instead by a burning irritation. “So that’s what all of this is about? You’re so hurt that I was the one to leave that you’ve become comatose?”

Derek sits up a little, eyes flashing. “You vanished without a trace and didn’t tell me where you went. I thought you were dead, Y/N. I had to pry information out of Deaton so I even knew you were alive, and when I tried to contact you, you ignored my messages. What the hell was I supposed to think?”

You laugh, although it’s not a happy sound. “Finally, you understand. This is what I deal with every time you leave town, Derek. You never tell me where you’re going or what you’re doing. I sat here in Beacon Hills for months, wondering if you’ll ever come back. I was gone for half the time you usually are and yet it’s far too much for you to handle. How do you think I feel?”

Derek’s lips flatten. “I– I didn’t realize you took it like that. I was just trying to keep you safe. You know how the hunters watch me, and–”

You cut him off, feeling the anger coiling through your stomach. “I know that, Derek. I know that every supernatural in your life that isn’t a part of your pack wants you dead. I know that in your head, this is how you keep me safe, by constantly cutting me out of your life, but has it occurred to you that this isn’t what I want? You could have asked me if this was the way to handle it. If you had even talked to me at all, I would have told you that I don’t care about being safe. Not if it means we’re like this. Not if it means I don’t get to have you at all.”

Derek stands up slowly, until he’s hovering just a few breaths away from you. One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek. “I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispers. “I’ve lost so many people in my life. I can’t lose you, too.”

“I know,” you murmur back. “But if you keep going on like this, if you keep pushing me away, you’ll lose me anyway.”

He flinches. “I should have asked you,” he admits. “I can’t erase the past, Y/N, but I can apologize for the present. Will you forgive me?”

“Only if you stay with me,” you answer him.

A ghost of a smile plays upon his lips. “I’ve never had a problem with that. It hurts like hell, leaving you. Always.”

“Then don’t do it anymore,” you urge him. “Stay with me, Derek. Keep me safe by staying with me.”

“I will,” Derek promises.

People in love make a lot of promises. Some are kept, some are broken. Some are forgotten about entirely. Looking at Derek in this half-darkness, though, you have a feeling that this one will be cherished for quite a long time indeed.

teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#derek hale #derek hale imagines #derek hale x reader #derek hale oneshot #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf oneshot #teen wolf derek #teen wolf derek imagines #teen wolf derek x reader #teen wolf derek oneshot

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imaginaryf1shots · 8 days

Text

My Girls | Crash

WC: 2K

Driver!oc x Max Verstappen

Warning: cursing, car crashing, fire?

A.N: This doesn’t follow the time line and could be read as a stand alone.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Zandvoort, Netherlands.

Max’s home race, the crowed were all cheering for the man. Cecilia had made the move to Mercedes this year, and so far she’s so happy with team, they had welcomed her with open arms, and she’s gotten well with Lewis, the pair weren’t as close before they became teammates, not because she didn’t like him, but Cecilia usually ran with the guys in her age group more. And to be honest she looked up to Lewis when she was younger so her racing against him, like Seb, left her breathless. She never thought that by the time she’d make it to Formula 1 he’d still be doing the amazing things he’s doing.

The race had started Cecilia started from P4, and she made good progress after the first turn she dropped to P6 by lap 30 she was back in P4 trying to overtake Carlos and get to P3. The weather took a turn and it started raining heavily.

Lap 34

Cecilia, box. Box.

You’re going in after Lewis.

Cecilia

Okay, don’t fuck it up for me, my daughter is here today.

We won’t.

And they didn’t, in true Mercedes fashion they double stacked, and she was out in two seconds.

Lap 35

Ferrari made a bad decision when they pitted Carlos, Cecilia was able to undercut him and took his P3, he dropped to P5.

Lap 43

Cecilia

How long will it rain for?

For another ten minutes or so

We’ll keep you updated

Lap 70

Lewis and Max were in front of her, she didn’t try to overtake Lewis following the team’s strategy. It was still raining, and she’s close to finishing P3.

Stroll is behind you, he’s 0.5 behind

Cecilia

Copy

Lance was closing in on her, but Cecilia was ready to defend, turn after turn she blocked him, she’s not losing her podium, she's third in the championship and she’ll hold her position with her hands and teeth. She only has two laps left.

However mother nature had other plans Lance lost grip and his car gilded over the ground with no tire grip at all, his car twirled around and his wing took out Cacilia’s back tires.

Cecilia

FUCK! FUCK!

Her car turned in circles, hitting the tire barrier pushing her back into the track, other cars had to swerve not to hit her as she hit the other barrier, the car started flipping, breaking into pieces. A red flag was called instantly, all cars were called back to the pit. George and Yuki already DNFed and were watching the crash happen, Lance's car was also destroyed but he hit the fence and stopped. Cecilia’s car landed upside down.

Toto

Cecilia! Are you okay?

All that could be heard was groaning, the safety car was out and the marshalls were running to the car that finally stopped moving. Cecilia was disoriented, she lost consciousness for a second. Everyone watched with bated breath, Merc’s garage was silent, everyone waiting for a response as Toto tried to get a response again and again. Every second felt like a lifetime. Both Max and Lewis pitted, they were informed of what happened, and both men panicked, one of the screens was playing back the crash.

Lance had gotten out of his car and was running to Cecilia’s.

Groans are the first thing Mercedes engineers heard, she was alive, but in pain.

Toto

Cecilia, are you okay?

Max ran to the Mercedes garage since the radio wasn’t being broadcasted, the only place he’d know if she’s okay is in the Mercedes garage. One of the engineers gave him his headphones to listen.

Cecilia

I’m smelling petrol

The female groaned, she tried to move but there wasn’t much she could do, until the car flipped, meanwhile blood was rushing to her head.

Toto turned and informed the crew to tell the marshalls. Lance was the first at the car, he had no idea about the leaking petrol, the car could light up at any second.

Toto

How are you feeling?

He wanted to gauge how she’s doing physically.

Cecilia

Not- not so good

Toto

They’re almost there

Cecilia

Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry

Toto

It’s not your fault it’s okay

Cecilia

Na-nathalie, don’t let her watch

Toto

Don’t worry she was taken away

Just focus on yourself

The marshals reached the car and with Lance they flipped the car, Cecilia sounded out of breath down the radio, once the car was the right way she didn’t move to get herself out. All they could do at the garage is wait. Lance was led away, they tried to have minimal people around the car since they knew about the petrol, two ambulances were near, Lance was led to one, the guilt eating him alive.

A marshal unbuckled Cecilia, with the help of another one they pulled the female out of what was left of the car, she offered no assistance. All she did was groan and mutter to herself incoherent things. They laid her down on the ground to take her helmet and balaclava off, they didn’t want to move her around too much not to cause any more damage, but just as they laid her down and with the medics running towards them all in the rain under the gloomy skies, a spark and then fire, blazing fire. The Marshalls ducked down.

Max’s heart dropped to his feet, he couldn’t stay there, he couldn’t. Turning to leave, an arm on his shoulder held him tight. His eyes met his rival’s.

“Don’t go mate, there’s nothing you could do.” Lewis was firm, he understood why Max wanted to go, but there’s literally nothing better he could do than stay here.

“I can’t just stay here.” Max tried to move again but again Lewis stopped him.

“You want to do something, go check on Nattie, that girl saw her mum’s crash.” Lewis told him and Max turned to look at where your driver’s room is. “The medic will get her out.”

“Lewis is right, we have to stay here for Nathalie.” Charles said, sounding out of breath as he ran to the Mercedes garage, for the same reason as Max, Mercedes will have the first information about Cecilia.

The marshals did the only thing they could do, they grabbed her from under her armpits, they were close to the ground, and they started dragging her, the medics met them and quickly placed her on the stretcher as a fire truck was driving up. Cecilia was then rushed to the nearest hospital.

“She’s breathing, they’re rushing her to the hospital.” Toto told the drivers, rushing over before he saw the Ferrari driver. “You two-three can’t leave yet, but I’m rushing there with her father.”

He left no room for discussion, the race is over, everyone will be placed where they were on pole based on where they were when the red flag was called.

Max knew he’d be needed in the RedBull garage but he went to Cecilia’s driver room, her name on the door, walking in he saw Nathalie being comforted by one of the Mercedes team.

“It’s okay, I got her.” Max told the woman who gave Max a small smile before she left. Nathalie threw herself at Max, he crouched down to be able to hug her. “It’s okay, momie is okay.”

“I saw her crash!” The girl sobbed, shaking.

“I know, but you know she’s a superhero with superpowers, she’s a little hurt, but she’s okay, she asked for you.” Max comforted pulling her up in his arms, as he stood up.

“She did?” Nathalie’s face was red, her lips turned down, an expression he saw on Cecilia a few times.

"Yeah, she did." He comforted her until she had calmed down. "Want to come with me to RedBull?"

Natalie nods and Max carries her to his team's garage. All he wants is to leave and go to the hospital. The race is over with anyways, even if he got pole position there’s no happiness there. Leaving the Mercedes garage Charles was talking with Lando and Lewis, when Charles saw Nattie's red face he tried to cheer her up, and he managed to get a small smile out of her, the favourite uncle’s privileges and all.

Half asleep writing this

Max was finally given the green light to leave the paddock and go to the hospital, Nathalie and Charles were of course with him, the group was driven there. Börje, Cecilia’s dad called and said that she’s stable and okay, she looks worse than she is. Max doesn’t know how to interpret this to be honest, so he just wants to get there.

When they made it to the hospital, Toto was outside on the phone talking furiously. He saw them and pointed for them to go in, still decked in their team’s kits the moment the trio walked(Nattie was in Charles’ arms) a nurse led them to a waiting room where they saw Börje. The man looked stressed his leg bouncing. He got calls from his wife and son asking about their daughter/sister, he had to try and be as calm as he could, but that’s his baby girl.

“Börje!” Charles called for the older man, he’ll always hold him in high regard, he did so much for his family when they were going through tough times.

“Grand-père.” Nathalie wiggled out of Charles’ arms and ran to her grandfather who had his arms out for her, he hugged her close, pulling her up to sit on his lap.

“How is she?” Max asks, stressed and worried, he tried to hide his feelings but they were seeping through him.

“They're doing their last check ups, but there's no broken bones, a slight concussion and a lot of bruises.” Börje said and Nattie snuggled into him, hiding her face into his neck.

“When can we see her?” Charles asked.

”I think Max can go in.”

Max didn’t wait for another word, he knocked on the door and a nurse opened it for him, once knowing his relation to Cecilia he was let in. The doctor was finishing up telling Cecilia everything, when Max rushed to her side. He couldn’t see any visible injuries besides a couple bruises on her arms. The doctor and nurse leave, letting the couple have a moment.

”Hey.” Cecilia says with a small smile, Max had no idea how she could smile, he watched her crash, he thought she had died. Max is a strong man, he never cries, he’s been too much shit for him to get overly emotional like this, but here he is trying to not let the tears gather in his eyes, fighting everything in himself to get it together, he wasn’t the one that crashed.

”Hey.” Max’s voice was heavy with emotion, he sits beside her on the bed and takes her hand gently in both of his, like it was his life line, to him it felt like it. “I-uh- I-um, Schatje…”

”Amour.” Cecilia says gently and cups Max’s face with her free one, Max crumbles, he puts his head on her shoulder and his body shakes lightly.

”Fucking hell, Cilia, I thought, shit, I thought I lost you.” Max manages to get out and Cecilia pats his back in comfort kissing the side of his head.

”I’m okay, Maxie, I’m alright, amour.” Cecilia whispered and keeps kissing the side of his head, teats gathering in her own eyes.

”I only managed to hold it in for Nat.” Even when he wants to break down, your daughter is his first thought and priority.

“I knew that you’ll always think of her first.”

“Believe me I wanted to run to you, but Lewis stopped me.” Max says and pushes himself back to be able to look at you, you take the time to wipe his tears away, and give him another smile.

”I’m glad he did.” Before Max could reply the door opened and small feet ran in and to the bed.

”Mommie.”

“Mon ange.”

charles_leclerc added a story

Captian: (she's fine everyone ❤️)

Ceciliahansson15 added a story

Captian: ( thank you for all the love, I'm alright 👍 already out and on my way home 💋 )

Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader . @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos . @crashingwavesofeuphoria . @mynameisangeloflife . @mirrorball-6 . @skynel09 . @barcelonaloverf1life . @lilipiggytails . @rebelatbay . @christianpulisic10 . @ironmaiden1313 . @dark-night-sky-99 . @amalialeclerc . @bborra . @allsouls-emma . @buckybarns4life . @distancedss . @xoscar03 . @aquangxl .

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #my girls #max verstappen x oc #max x oc #driver oc #f1 x oc #oc #f1 driver oc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1

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maccreadysbaby · 5 months

Note

Do you still do writing tips?? Cause I need tips on writing a child (12/13) who’s been trained to be living weapon their whole life??

OH MY GOD YES. I LOVE YOU.

this is a massive post I’m sorry

Writing a Child Who was Raised to be a Weapon

tw just for abuse, eating disorders, and the like mentioned below

NOW. This is one of my favorite archetypes used in modern media, if you couldn’t tell by my batfamily oc insert (little mister was-only-kept-alive-to-destroy-bruce-wayne. hi there, bentley, love you!)

While this is a very compelling and interesting type of character to create and flesh out, it’s easy to brush over some of the inner dialogue and thought patterns these children would have, because most people irl don’t have them. (Unless you were raised as a super assassin, in which case, please don’t kill me, and I love you)

The bottom line is, the characters entire personality and dynamic with other people relies on what background you give them. And that’s where I come in! Hi, I’m maccreadysbaby, and I’m going to propose some of the routes you can take in writing these cute little (deadly) guys!

COMMUNICATION ↴

none of these children are going to communicate normally, because they aren’t normal. they weren’t raised with a family, or good support system. they might:

be terrified of others. slow to trust. especially if you’re writing a child who was abused when they failed. for example, my oc, bentley, was horrified to be in proximity with any of bruce wayne’s family because he was afraid they would hurt him like his father did. he was afraid to cry in front of them, afraid to admit he was tired or sick or scared, afraid to ask for help, afraid to speak first, because it was all things he’d gotten punished for before. they might also have a terrible relationship with failure, because failure brings pain, and could potentially crumble if they fail or think they’re going to fail whatever they’re doing. (a mission, an assassination, or simple things like a school test or a task someone asked them to complete.) maybe they’re really good at holding it together and pretending they aren’t scared, but after all, they’re just kids. the cracks in their mask are gonna show one way or another.

shut people out. this could be from fear, or from being taught relationships are bad and makes them weak and vulnerable. they might not communicate because they don’t want to have another potential weak spot. they might keep their distance, stay quiet, not come out often. they might come across as cold and heartless, but it’s really them just trying to protect themselves, be it from pain, from the idea of eventual heartbreak, etc. but there is a problem with shutting people out, and it’s that they’re also shutting themselves in, like a prison. kids who choose to shut people out and bottle up everything they feel are slightly more prone to emotional outbursts and breakdowns. especially if they’re fairly young.

learn different ways to communicate, such as sign language, their actions, body language, etc. they won’t do it like everybody else and that’s okay! you can take so many liberties with this. maybe they make origami swans and leave them on the nightstands of people they decide they like. maybe they highlight lines in books and leave them places to tell someone how they feel. maybe they’re an absolute little jerkhole that’s mean to everyone because they weren’t taught how to do it any differently. maybe they’re insanely submissive people-pleasers that do everything asked of them because they were created to take orders. the possibilities are endless. go on an adventure!

be overly trusting. you typically see this in characters on the younger end of the spectrum, but you can drag it up into teenagers, too. a child that’s been abused or suppressed in any way, physically, emotionally, or mentally might decide they wholeheartedly trust the first person who is nice to them, who doesn’t cause them pain. there might even be a little bit of lag time between the meeting and the kindness and the trusting, but when it comes, it comes full force to the face. they’d trust these people to protect their lives and might even cling to them, or run to them as an escape from whoever raised them. (assuming they are afraid of the people who raised them.) they might even allow themselves to open up and become more than just a human weapon in the presence of these lucky folks.

believe that they’re superior to everyone else. obviously they are a higher class, a finer type of person. they can kill in seconds, they’re a master at martial arts, they can have an adult wrapped around their finger within the first minute of meeting them, they can make a person cave with a single sentence, they’re just better. better than all these civilians who let their emotions get in the way, who let other people walk all over them and boss them around. they’re too good for that. this is also a great one to add in some angst. arrogance and pride are often founded on the feelings of uselessness, worthlessness, or that they can’t (or don’t deserve to) be loved. it’s like a defense mechanism. no one likes me — obviously it’s because of my blindingly obvious superiority. they’re so much better that they don’t need love, kindness, care. (but yes, they actually do. they’ll probably break down crying or throw someone across the room the moment it’s given because it opens their eyes to the fact that they’re literally freaking starving for it like they haven’t eaten in their entire lives. my GOD give these kids a hug.)

FOOD ↴

i know this seems random, but it’s something you need to know about your character because it heavily impacts their mental state, mannerisms, energy, and health. chances are being raised as a weapon, they won’t have a stable relationship with food or eating. here are some examples of how you could make them!

refusing to eat. if your child character has had bad experiences in the past regarding food, such as someone using food to manipulate them (if you don’t do this you don’t get food.), torture them (purposefully feeding them something that makes them sick or have an allergic reaction, even poisoned food.), or if there are bad memories tied to eating (always getting fed before terrible missions, or before days locked somewhere, torture sessions, punishments, etc.) your child may not want to eat at all. after all, these are still just kids and they’re going to try and avoid everything that can trigger negative feelings, memories, or circumstances. if food is one of them, your other characters are probably going to have to help reassure them that they can eat and need to (if they’re in the presence of nice characters.) if you’re wanting to go a more severe route, you can even write them getting diagnosed with anorexia (an eating disorder that heavily involves not eating at all.) but of course, you don’t have to. (i didn’t.) just remember, they are growing kids and are going to be hungry whether they like it or not. but they will try to hide it if hunger has been used against them, which is a good point for hurt/comfort writing, since hunger can cause anything as small and embarrassing as their stomach growling loudly in front of everybody to severe stomach cramps (like your organs being tied in a terribly tight knot), vomiting, and fainting. all things considered, you can take a more severe route, or just write about them working with the help of friends to get up to a better food intake level and higher weight.

struggling to eat. if your child has not been fed properly for most or all of their lives, and then are put into a homelife where they have food at their disposal, they still might struggle with it. (for example, my character, bentley, was severely starved by his father for the first ten years of his life and when he gets put into a new home, he struggles to eat much at all and sometimes feels sick when he eats ‘too much’, even though he should be eating more in general.) of course, this comes with a host of complications and all the symptoms that come with malnutrition, not to mention that they won’t even be close to the size they’re supposed to be. (bentley was the size of a 6-7 year old at the ages of 9&10.) this is similar to the last bullet point in the sense that you can go the more serious anorexia route, or the kind people helping them stay on track route

over-eating. this one is more common for youngsters who didn’t have access to food most of their lives, but it wasn’t used against them or withheld from them by another person. (a good example would be a child trained in an area where people routinely don’t have access to food.) this is highly derived from food insecurity, where they think they have to eat everything they’re given because they don’t know when they’ll eat next. (this can also be used for characters in the bullet point above.) this also can cause health issues and routine sickness. (for example, my character, asten (11yrs), who lived in a poverty stricken part of his city and barely ate outside of school, routinely eats himself sick when he has access to food because he’s been starving without it.) this food insecurity can also lead to extreme emetophobia (fear of vomiting) because they don’t want to lose what they do have in them, which can pose a massive problem when this child is either so empty or so full that they need to throw up. so, if they’re put into a household where they have access to food, it might be a constant stream of stomach aches and nights spent in the bathroom while the person helps reassure them that they will always have food and they don’t have to eat it all now. (sorry this is gross but it needs to be said.)

here is a drabble that i wrote recently involving a malnourished child due to poverty, with his internal dialogue and thought processes, if that will help any of you.

ANXIETY / PTSD ↴

oh boy. these kids will have it, given how they’ve been raised. the question is in how they treat it and deal with it.

hiding it. maybe they were trained to see fear and anxiousness as weakness. the flinch when someone moves too fast, the tightness in their chest at a certain noise, the inability to breathe if they see someone’s face, they’re going to hide it because their fine and they’re tough. no one has to know that they have nightmares every night and cry when they’re alone. you can even extend this into anxiety/asthma/panic attacks that they keep hidden. (typically by leaving social settings when they feel it coming on.) no one has to know that they’re so weak. they might lash out in anger or irritation if they’re routinely asked if they’re okay because they need these people to back off before they fall apart in front of them. they might have little mannerisms that other people might notice for calming or showing anxiety, like biting their nails, bouncing their leg, pinching themselves, quietly doing breathing exercises, etc. PTSD will come more like nightmares and anxiety attacks and flashbacks, and they can’t always hide those no matter how much they want to. the severity of anxiety and PTSD depends on how graphic you make their backstory. (for example, my character, bentley, has nightmares of being abused, which he breaks down crying after. in his instances, he’s never alone. similarly, he once started crying when he saw christmas decorations similar to those his abuser used to have, and he has his first anxiety attack when he sees his abuser in public) you can keep the character secretive about it or let them have a big old breakdown in front of someone else, your choice.

not hiding it at all. if they’re with someone they trust, they might just let loose. (that’s what happened to bentley once he learned his new family didn’t care if he looked weak and wanted to help him) they might tell someone when they’re feeling scared or anxious or bad in any way. they might just cry right in front of them when they have to and have attacks with someone close and all the things because they’re not alone anymore and these people want to help. it might take a while for them to get to this point, and no one blames them. (for example, bentley was really anxious for school so he went to his new guardians room in the middle of the night) and remember, any steps these kiddos take closer to asking for help is HUGE! make sure your other characters encourage them and let them know they’re proud for reaching out :)

keep in mind that if they’ve never been talked to about it, they might have no freaking clue what’s going on if they have an attack of some sort, and will probably need someone to explain to them what’s going on and that they aren't going to die.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk! If you have more specific questions send them in anon!

#creative writing #writing #writing help #writing angst #writing tips #character tips

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itsabouttimex2 · 1 month

Text

What kind of yandere are they?

Explanations below/Click for higher res

MK has been through so very much. The glamour of being a hero wore off quick, leaving him with many insecurities and doubts. Giving him someone innocent and kind to protect stabilizes him somewhat, but makes him more vicious in an effort to ensure their safety.

Sun Wukong thinks as something worth protecting. You give him a purpose and a good reason to dust off his old bones and return to fighting- all he asks in turn is that you stay on Flower Fruit Mountain with him. And the world getting it’s greatest hero back is a worthy trade for your lack of freedom, isn’t it? (The most likely to kidnap you, tied with Macaque.)

Nezha uses you as motivation for his fervent service. If the celestial realm has you, then it’s clearly worth protecting. If someone so good and kind resides there, then why should he waver in his duty? This extends to personal fights in your name- he rarely comes out unbloodied.

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The Mayor keeps a close on eye on you, always watching from the shadows. You probably have a tie to the Lady Bone Demon in some way, an heir to her blood or powers. He cultivates your misery by pulling strings and arranged misfortunes- the fact that no one stops him or saves you is proof enough (to him) that the world is rotted to the core. Proof that it needs to be destroyed. Proof that you need something, or someone better- maybe him?

You justify the Lady Bone Demon’s ideals. She watches as you suffer and break, your kind soul perpetually punished for good deeds and unyielding optimism. If you trust people, they betray you. If you help people, they hurt you. Your life is proof to her that the world is cruel, and needs to be wiped clean. So she obsessively watches from afar, her mind constantly plagued with thoughts of you, and thoughts of ending your suffering. (The most manipulative yandere on this list.)

Azure Lion sees you cast from the Celestial Realms, thrown out for daring to try and improve the lives of mortals without approval from the Celestial Bureaucracy. Not only are you a perfect member for his brotherhood (and he will get you to join), but you also reaffirm to Azure what he’s fighting for.

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Zhu Baije is a very flawed man. By his own nature, he’s something of a troublemaker. You work to counteract many of the problems he causes, working hard to ensure that no fissure in the group grows too big. It’s easy to think of you as someone worthy of worship- you seem to have an endless well of patience and kindness. He just wishes that you gave a little less of it to people who aren’t him.

Ao Lie watches you close. He sees how you struggle to pull everyone together even when things are at their absolute worst, and respects your efforts. He sees a person always willing to stand up for other and for what’s right, never allowing yourself to stand idly by. The harder you fight to mend rifts between people, the more admirable you become to him.

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Mei just wants you- she doesn’t bother thinking it through or wondering exactly why. You’re nice and you’re good, so you’re hers. Her parents are fully supportive of her attempts to ‘adopt’ you, and have a room set aside for the day they ‘bring you home’.

Pigsy doesn’t think of his obsession as a hero, warrior, or soldier. He instead views them as a child in need or guidance and protection, the sort who would be benefit nicely from being taken under his wing- likely enlisting Tang and MK to help him corral you into his care. (The most likely to succeed in his goal, tied with Sanzang)

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Princess Iron Fan doesn’t think much of you at first, viewing you as a little more than a disposable pawn. But, to her surprise- you perform far more admirably than expected, so keeping you both alive and close becomes the rational course of action. She gets used to using you, then gets used to you, then wants you. And Iron Fan knows how to get what she wants.

Macaque at first is just using you, stringing you along. He trains you to be more like him, feeds you lies about Wukong and MK, gets you to hate them by filling your head with falsehoods. And somewhere along the line, he ends up getting attached. Instead of getting better, he doubles down on his manipulations, intent on keeping you close. (The most likely to kidnap you, tied with Wukong.)

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Tang Sanzang sees so much potential in you. You’re a feral little thing, tucked away under bushes and baring your teeth at him- a child acting like a wild animal. His holy heart aches for you, thinking of the struggles you must’ve endured through your life. With a pair of heavenly circlets for your wrists, Sanzang inducts you along for his pilgrimage, intent on bettering you bit by bit- by force, if he must.

Expect lots of tutoring and life lessons, all delivered with endless patience and a paternal attitude. Teaching you to read and write and behave might be harder than pulling teeth, but it will be done. Not to mention the four other pilgrims whom he positions as your ‘brothers’, who adore and respect him, each one swayed by his words of what’s ‘best for you’. (The most likely to succeed in his goal, tied with Pigsy.)

Tang probably mirrors Pigsy in his acquiring of a child- he finds some dirty little waif on the streets and takes them in as his own. Something ancient and repeating calls from within him, pushing him to take this little unfortunate thing into his care, to push them to be ever better- an inner voice calling for him to be kind and merciful. And really, who is he to deny such a kind urge?

Master Subodhi is a wonderful judge of character, capable of picking out both the flaws and strengths of a person. You could be troubled and impatient, or rude and reticent. All that matters is there’s true good inside you- however embryonic it may be. Through strict guidance- and with a not insignificant amount of amusement at the shenanigans you cause with his other students- Subodhi manages to slowly molds you into a better and stronger person. Mind you, all of this is through the masterful use of manipulation. Expect his other students to help him reign you in and chip away at your resolve to leave. (The most likely to have an obsession that’s stronger than him.)

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Sandy thinks that you’re simply wonderful. You’ve been a constant supportive force in his life, encouraging his therapy sessions, teaching him how to brew tea, vouching for him to shelters across the city. With your support, Sandy slowly becomes a better person, leaving behind most of his obsessive and possessive behavior behind. There are lingering traces, hints of overprotectiveness and denial of consent, holding you too tight in his arms and not letting go or slipping sleeping pills into your tea… but even those habits lessen in frequency and severity.

That, or you might be a child of his that he wants to be a better role model for. Sandy wants you to be happy! He wants you to be confident! He wants you to have a good dad! So he almost unhealthily works to improve himself, finding positive ways to channel his most toxic and unhealthy traits, hoping to become someone worthy of your love. (The least likely to hurt you.)

Everyone else treats Sha Wujing like a monster, hurling wicked names and cruel words. ‘Demon’ and ‘fiend’, they decree, and Wujing has long internalized their words as truth. He’s plenty happy to act on his learned monstrosity, lashing out at any who draw near- until you come along with a simple compliment and an admission of weakness. You aren’t strong enough to fight, not quick enough to run from him- but you’re kind enough that he doesn’t think to butcher you. Growing obsessed with you amplified some of his worst traits while also teaching him about unconditional love and support, the dichotomy of equal progression preventing any true growth for a time. Once Sanzang comes along, Wujing has to think long and hard on who he is and what he’s done and who he wants to be and what he wants to do- and decides to be better for you.

There aren’t many people that the Demon Bull King cares for, but you’ve managed to worm your way into his stony heart anyhow. It’s awkward to try and be open with someone so squishy and frail, but he makes a token effort to be less intimidating and overbearing so you aren’t as scared. It’s not easy settling you into his family (especially with his son now battling you for his attention), but he’s sure you’ll get used to it eventually. Iron Fan is more on board with your induction than her son, coming to view you as a lovable; if weak, second child. Red Son refrains from outright violence, but is notably icy over the sudden competition for affection. Still, in the strangest of ways- it’s family.

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Chang’e has been alone for a very long time. There’s no real way to know exactly how long, but isolation has taken it’s toll. Is it so bad to want someone to dote on and nourish? No! So you and her should be family! She’s even more insistent if Y/N is leporine in some way- the two of you are meant to be family! A loving lunar goddess and her perfect little lop, together on the moon. To her, it sounds like something out of a fairy tale. It might be more of a saccharine nightmare to her captive, though. (The most capable of keeping Y/N from escaping.)

The Scorpion Queen really just wants a friend, no matter what it takes to get one. Loneliness has gnawed away at her inhibitions and morals, leading her to snatch up the sweetest looking person around and haul them back to her castle. She’s not above using poison to keep you complement, brewing up several blends from her own venom. Paralytics, sedatives, you name it. One quick sting and you’re helpless in the Queen’s arms, ready to be pampered and protected. After she’s done cleaning and patching your new wound, of course.

Kui Mulang has been waiting for his lover for so very long… and then you come stumbling in, wide-eyed and unaware of the dangers that the demon possesses. You’re a funny little mortal, unworthy of having your weak soul devoured- not only would it not expand his lifespan too much, but he fears it might even make him weaker. Instead, he forces you to become a cute little companion/pet and regales you with tales of his lover, filling your ears with descriptions of her beauty and kindness. Don’t get the wrong idea, though- you aren’t making him a better person. He’s just found one single person to not be totally awful to. (The most likely to replace his obsession.)

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Syntax admires your work from afar, picking apart every bit of tech you manufacture. He’ll install dozens of cameras across your home just for the joy of watching you scramble to disable or destroy them. With the sheer volume of spyware distributed, it’s inevitable that you miss at least a few, allowing the spiderized man to maintain constant surveillance. He inducts your work into his own, picking apart the blueprints he’s stolen from you, admiring the many lines of code you’ve written. There’s a new camera in your house each day, slowly stealing away all privacy. The concept of a ‘blindspot’ doesn’t exist in Syntax’s carefully curated world- no closet, corner, or crawl space is safe from his leering eyes. You’re then subjected to 24/7 surveillance, your life becoming an ever-present livestream on the screens of Syntax’s machines. (The least likely to personally interact with his obsession.)

Huntsman has never seen a worthier adversary. You match him blow for blow and thwart his traps at each turn. He has to keep upping the ante as you escape his clutches, an ever evolving quarry worthy of pursuit. The biggest (and only) dilemma he has in regards to his obsession is whether he should taxidermy or cage you. Either way, you’ll make a nice trophy. (The most likely to kill you.)

It takes a saint to gain the Ink Curse’s attention. You have to be the most wonderful goody-two shoes darling in the world, a person who’s mature and rational and kind and responsible and generous and wise and loving. If you can manage all of that, along with having no major character flaws or massive mistakes in your past… then you have their attention. It is the worst prize you could have ever received.

Alternatively, be a child who gets trapped in the scroll. There’ll be a mocking form of pity to every interaction, but the Curse might try to mold you into an equally brutal punisher of sins. After all, what else can you do? You’re stuck, aren’t you? Get used to the company, kiddo. (The most likely to break you.)

Yellowtusk would happily speak with you until all the rivers of the world run dry. The two of you match wits in civil debates, opposing each other’s viewpoints and arguments with fervor. No stakes, no hatred, no grudges- just debate for the sake of debate. You grow together, sharing your wells of knowledge and expanding the breadth of your wisdom side by side. His obsession with you is softer than most, quelled by quick chats and simple skinship - but it’s obsession all the same, waiting to spiral out of control.

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Red Son’s pride is an irrefutable aspect of him. The half-demon views himself as superior to all but a select few- and you, unfortunately, do not fall into that group. Red thinks of you as something akin to a cherished pet, worthy of care and companionship, but not freedom or respect. He could control almost every aspect of your life if he so wanted, but that’s more trouble than he desires. If you behave properly, Red allows you to dress yourself and have a small collection of personal possessions. Also, expect him to personally forge you a tracking collar emblazoned with his family’s insignia. (He truly does care about you- deep, deep, deep down in his heart. But you’re still lesser than him.)

If you happen to be his sibling, though, his treatment of you becomes more bearable. He’s still insanely possessive and domineering, but there’s more respect for you as a person.

The Spider Queen also thinks of you as a pet, a cute little thing to dress up and lock in chains. You make the most wonderful decoration for her throne room, shaking in the corner with a shackle clasped around your wrist. Everything you wear is produced from her own silken webs, everything you eat is caught and killed with her own two hands. If you step too far out of line, expect your next meal to be the corpse of a loved one.

Peng looks at you with some strange mixture of pity and amusement. (There’s some genuine care in there, but they’d never admit it.) You’re the smallest and youngest of the Brotherhood, with naivety and kindness to match. They find it funny to toy with you in a variety of ways, though they take care to never truly cause harm. Ex: Knocking into you for the sole purpose of tripping you up, biting back laughs as you apologize for ‘not paying attention.’ Peng will ‘forgive’ what you perceive as a personal mistake, hauling you up and dusting you off before sending you on your way. You’re a fun toy. A devoted sibling. A cute little time-killer. And, somehow- the person they cherish above all else.

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raindduks · 1 year

Text

earned it

p a i r i n g :: toji x reader

g e n r e :: smut, pwp, afab reader

w a r n i n g s :: slight primal play, slight dub-con, being robbed, mentions of gun violence, minimal police, toji likes to bite

s u m m a r y :: It was supposed to be a normal day. A normal day, with a normal, boring trip to the bank.

How the hell did you end up in the back of a bank robbers car with his head between your thighs?

w o r d c o u n t :: 5.2k

a / n :: cross posted on ao3, ive never written smut before so please go easy on me. if you've seen a fic similar to this, a friend and i used the same idea to create two fics (tho i think hers is only on ao3).

m i n o r s d n i

Today wasn’t supposed to go like this.

You were just supposed to grab some money from the bank to pay a couple bills, head home, maybe grab yourself an iced coffee on the way back. Work a bit. Shower? Hell, maybe you’d finally open that nice bottle of Pinot Noir you got for your birthday.

“Don’t look so scared, sweetheart.”

The cold tip of a gun presses harder against your ribcage, its owner leaning over you in such a fashion to hide it. His arm drapes over your shoulder, whispers falling in hot breaths on your ear. The pair of you take a step forward. The teller is focused on another customer currently; you don’t think she’s noticed your predicament quite yet.

“You gotta look at least somewhat happy about this, or else the teller won’t cough up the cash.” He leans in further, squeezing you to his side. “If that happens, well.. You certainly won’t be leaving here alive.”

Deep breaths. Tears sting at the corners of your eyes, threatening to destroy this whole charade in an instant. You don’t doubt the credibility of his threat. This man is clearly confident that this ridiculous idea for a robbery would work to begin with - seriously, in broad daylight, no mask, in a skin-tight black t-shirt and baggy jacket - why wouldn’t he be willing to cut down a few people in his way? No need to ponder it further as your ‘companion’ wipes at your eye. A surprisingly tender gesture, all things considered.

“Awh, am I really that bad?”

Does he want an actual answer?

It doesn’t matter now, it’s your turn at the desk.

“Hi, how can I help you today?”

You force on the best smile you can manage, trying to keep your voice light and gentle.

“I’d like to make a withdrawal, please.” The teller doesn’t make any indication that anything is awry.

“Certainly. I’ll need your card and ID please. Which account did you want to withdraw from?”

Your companion steps in as you pull out your ID and card to hand over. “Savings please. We’re headed out on our honeymoon and wanted to make sure we had everything for the trip.” You nod, sliding the cards across the countertop.

The teller’s smile falters just a bit, but you’re hoping he sees it as some sort of surprise at being addressed by someone else, rather than the obvious. She continues with a small huff, “Well, I will need confirmation from the account holder after I make a copy of the ID. It seems the ID we have on file has expired, so I’ll have to make a new one for our system. It shouldn’t take more than a moment. ” Before either of you can protest, she’s turned away and headed for the scanner behind her.

Toji - you think that’s his name, he mentioned it briefly when he cornered you outside and threatened you - leans in. The gun presses almost under your rib cage at this angle. “You’re gonna have to ask about the unmarked bills. I don’t think she’s buying this whole honeymoon bit.” The teller still has her back to you, working on scanning your ID. You can’t see her hands at all.

She’s all smiles when she returns to the counter. She hands you your ID and card, but keeps her hands on the countertop. She makes eye-contact with Toji.

“Alright, how much would you like to withdraw?”

He answers before you can. “All of it.”

“Please.” You chime in - “And can we, uh, can we get that in unmarked bills? The vacation is…international.”

You hesitated in your lie. The smile falters - both hers and yours.

“Of course. I’ll get right on that.”

The teller leaves again, this time to grab the cash presumably. She’s gone off to another part of the bank. You want to relax, but you aren’t alone here. Toji keeps the gun pressed against your ribs - he must be practiced at this, considering how long he’s kept it up - and lets his lips ghost the outer shell of your ear.

“Be more confident next time. We gotta look like a normal, happy couple here.”

You don’t tell him that most normal people don’t ask for unmarked bills in any situation. It’s practically the biggest red flag you could give at a bank besides actually pointing a gun at the teller.

“Ya know, I don’t really like one-sided conversations doll. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His voice is light as ever, casual even. Conversing with the person robbing you of all you have isn’t exactly what most normal people do either. Maybe you aren’t destined to have a normal day. Who are you kidding, any chance of that disappeared when you decided to go to the bank.

“There’s not… a lot going on in my head right now. Besides the obvious.”

“The obvious?”

“Not dying.” You don’t know what gave you the gall to say some stupid shit like that until he chuckles. It’s not loud, but it sits deep enough in his chest to make him ease up on the pressure of the gun against you.

“‘Course. The obvious. Anything else? I’m looking forward to our ‘honeymoon’.”

This time you turn to actually look at him. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him when you first encountered him, a little too preoccupied by the gun pointed in your face. He’s quite attractive, with green eyes and shaggy black hair. The scar over his lip is still somehow eye-catching, and you aren’t sure you want to know where he got it from.

You ask anyway.

“Where’d you get that scar from?”

He seems almost surprised, which is fair. You aren’t sure you have any sense of self-preservation left. He considers your question for a second before just smirking and responding - “It’s a long story.”

The teller re-enters your line of sight.

“Looks like our friend is back.” He whispers, continuing much louder when the teller returns to the counter. It’s only been a couple of minutes, but still you feel like she’s been gone much longer. “All done? We’re in a bit of a rush.”

She hands you at least four envelopes filled to the brim with bills. “Of course sir. I hope the two of you have a lovely honeymoon.” You are actually kinda impressed your savings managed to fill up such space. Simultaneously, it hurts knowing all that work will be gone as soon as you walk out of the building. Toji grabs the money from you, stuffing it in the pockets in his oversized pants.

“Thanks, you’ve been a big help doll.”

You can’t tell who he’s addressing.

The pair of you walk out of the bank, and towards the parked cars.

“You did good back there sweetheart. Now you know the rules, you can’t tell anyone about what happened here tonight, clear?”

“Crystal.”

It’s almost over. This nightmare can end.

And then you hear the sirens.

They’re far enough off to not be an immediate threat, but you’re working ona very limited time frame now. Toji doesn’t hesitate as he practically throws you into the backseat of his car. “Guess you and I are goin’ for a little ride.”

“Wait-!” The doors are closed before you can get a word in edgewise. He’s inserted himself in the front seat and started reversing out as you right yourself in the backseat. The sirens sound closer and he speeds off towards the highway as a couple of cop cars round the corner.

The chase is on. Toji doesn’t seem phased, weaving in and out of traffic with practiced ease. You, on the other hand, are being tossed around in the backseat as he swerves, struggling to get your seatbelt on. The two of you make it to the service road unscathed, four cars hot on your tail. The sirens have made traffic practically grind to a halt, drastically slowing your progress. Groups of cars block your path, and road spikes make entering the highway nearly impossible.

“Hold on princess, we’re taking a shortcut.”

You frantically grab the door handle, trying to keep yourself stationary as he jumps the curb to get around a roadblock. A car comes barrelling straight at you as you finally manage to secure your seatbelt. It’s not a direct collision - barely knicks the back bumper - but it’s enough to smack your head against the window.

Hard.

By the time you come to, it’s dark outside and you’re far, far out of town.

“What the hell… Hey, where are we? Weren’t we being chased by cops?”

Toji looks at you in the rearview mirror, a smirk pulling at the edges of his scar.

“Have a nice nap sweetheart?” He immediately pulls off onto the side of the road. You suppose you’re lucky he didn’t dump you sooner. He opens the driver door and hauls himself out of the front seat.

“Stellar, thanks for... asking. Hey. Hey! Where the hell are we? What’s going on?” Unfastening your seatbelt, you try to scramble away as he walks around the car to the far door - the one facing away from the street. A hand closes around your ankle, and with a hard yank, you are flat on your back staring up at the man now blocking your best route for escape.

“Does it really matter? I have no more use of you. So your time is up.” He’s planted one forearm on the top of the doorframe. Moonlight spills in behind him, highlighting the outer corners of his face. Radiant light from the tail lights leaves his left side illuminated in red.

“You’re just going to leave me here?!” You pull yourself onto your elbows, slightly ashamed of the heat that spiked in your gut from being manhandled.

“What’d you expect, doll?” He holds onto the edge of the frame as he leans in, planting an arm right next to your head. “Didja think you’d that I’d just drop ya off somewhere you’d be sure to get back safely? Leave a witness behind?” His eyes are wide open, opposed to the somewhat droopy look they’ve had up until this point. You can’t bring yourself to look away.

“I-I-No-I just -” Your face flushes at his proximity. If he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it a long time ago. He’s had ample chances - shooting you after he got the money or throwing you out of the car while possibly concussed, just to name a couple. If he truly wanted to kill you, and he waited until you thought you were safe to do so - then he would be truly evil. The idea of accidentally smartass-ing your way into an early grave has you tongue-tied.

Toji laughs. It’s not a pleasant sound, full of malice and mockery. He leans back a bit, eyes returning to their normal, aloof state as he takes a slow, considering look down your body. Your skin burns wherever his gaze passes over. You’re acutely aware of how this position makes your chest more prominent, how your legs are spread on either side of his on the outside of the car, how the heat from before never really went away but has instead continued to grow throughout this interaction.

“Well, since you’ve been so good this far, I’ll be nice. Leave you a little somethin’ to remember me by.”

He lets go of the hood, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you upright into a brutal kiss. He bites at your lower lip, and you gasp. His tongue is long and presses into your mouth at the opportunity. He tastes like mint gum - he must’ve had some while you were out. Your arms find purchase on his shoulders, digging your fingers into his hair. Toji’s hand is warm on your lower back, pressing you up against his chest.

Toji pulls away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting the two of you for a second before he dives towards the crook of your neck. His lips press against your pulse, teeth briefly nicking the skin there, a spark of electricity settling just beneath the area. His tongue flattens against your cheek as he licks one broad stripe from your jaw down to your collarbone. Again, he nips at you before retreating just enough to blow on the wet skin. The sudden chill sends a shiver down your spine, amplifying the heat pooling at your core.

You instinctively attempt to clench your thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction or relief, only to be stopped by his legs between yours. He bites at the base of your throat, sucking a dark bruise into the skin. Nothing about Toji is gentle, and despite the alarm bells sounding in your head at this whole situation - you can’t help the strangled yelp that escapes you.

You feel his devilish grin before you see it, the air sucked out of the car as he pulls away from his position marking up your neck. You can’t even pretend to ignore the flash of heat running through you at the dangerous spark in his eyes. Fuck the wine at home, you think you could get drunk off the feeling of him looking at you like a predator closing in on their poor, helpless prey. Maybe that wasn’t too far from the truth.

He runs those hungry eyes over every inch of you, moving his hands to your waist. In one swift motion, Toji yanks you to the edge of the backseat - your lower half almost entirely out of the car. He wastes no time hauling your legs over his shoulders and begins to leave wet, open mouthed kisses up towards your aching cunt, heat from his breath doing nothing to cool down the fire burning in your gut. He mouths over your clothed core a couple of times, piercing eyes not leaving yours for an instant. Running his fingers along the waistline of your pants, he hooks his fingers under just enough to find purchase on both your pants and panties and practically rips them down your legs.

Toji hovers over you for just a second. The cool night air settling over your exposed sex makes you squirm in his hold, his eyes more chilling than the night itself. In the soft red glow of the tail lights, he makes one more command.

“Be as loud as you can. There’s no one out here to hear you but me. I don’t want you to hold back.”

He settles further between your legs, elbows on the seat and forearms thrown across your thighs as he positions himself in front of your cunt. Rather than give you what he knows you want just yet, he turns his head and sinks his teeth into the plush skin of your thigh. It hurts - the bite, the chill, the sensation of him sucking at your skin - and you arch up instinctively. Slamming your hands into the seat, you just about scream. Eyes shut, trying and failing to hold back tears. After the initial bite you fall back onto the seat, panting and whining at the continued sensation. You frantically try to tug at his hair, to pull him off of you, while attempting to move out of his iron grip. Truly, those muscles aren’t just for show. He seems almost emboldened by your attempts.

Satisfied with the dark, defined bite mark on your thigh and the tear trails adorning your cheeks - he turns his attention to your forgotten cunt and buries his face in your pussy, the bridge of his nose nudging at your sensitive bud. It’s sloppy, it’s rough, it’s messy in a sort of perfected, practiced way. Every minute movement sends jolts of arousal up your spine that bury themselves in your stomach. You rock your hips against him as best you can with his arms still pinning you down. He licks a long hot stripe up your cunt, flicking his tongue at the top of the motion. Always one step away from truly sending you over that cliff.

You think he’s trying to drive you crazy.

“Please…”

A pathetic whine. You don’t even know what you’re pleading for - more? For him to stop playing around with you? For him to touch you? To play with your empty, empty cunt? More, more, always more. It might be the headache, it might be the man between your thighs, either way you can’t think straight anymore. You need something more. There’s a deep ache twisting inside you - and you’re pretty sure only the dark haired man in front of you can unwind it.

“Please what? You know how I feel about one-sided conversations sweetheart.”

The words are muffled as he speaks them against your clit. He punctuates by wrapping his lips around the small bud and sucking on it for a brief moment. Your body jolts with each one, hips bucking.

“I need - I need more… Please…”

“More? Like…” One arm lays across your lower stomach, elbow under one hip and fingers splayed out across the other. He maintains his iron grip as he runs a single finger down your slit - collecting the juices before dipping one finger into your heat. He pushes up to the third knuckle, taking just a moment before retreating and slowly circling your clit.

“Like that?”

You nod furiously, propping yourself up on your arms again. “Yes, yes, please more…” You can’t even bother with shame anymore.

He huffs out a chuckle, “Greedy little thing.” Toji returns his mouth to your clit, roughly plunging his finger back into your cunt. Pleasure blossoms through your body, unfurling its flaming tendrils into your muscles. Moans, whines, breathy half-sounds tumble out of your mouth, your cunt clenching around his finger as he works you open with one finger, and then another that presses upwards to find that small spongy spot that would bring the stars into the backseat with you.

Toji fucks his fingers into you as he suctions his lips around your sensitive bud. The heat building in your stomach is on the verge of bursting.

“A-ah, I’m s’close…” You struggle against his hold again, aching to ride his face and fingers to completion.

But it seems Toji has other plans.

Almost as soon as those words leave your lips, the black-haired man quickly removes his fingers from your core. The night air hits your sopping cunt, clenching around nothing. You whine - what the hell?! You start to complain about your denied orgasm, but one look at Toji has any frustrated words dying on your lips.

He looks positively feral.

The scar over his lips glistens with the combination of spit and your juices. Teeth bared in a manic grin, his canines catching the light ever so slightly before a long, pointed tongue slips out to gather all remnants of you from his lips and fingers. His pupils are blown wide, hair mussed on the sides where it pressed against your thighs. Toji rises back up to his full height, towering over you in the car. You’d forgotten for a moment you should be scared of him. He doesn’t break eye contact.

Your heart rate picks up significantly, the adrenaline that should’ve been present since he first grabbed you outside the bank finally making its debut. It must show on your face because the crazed look on his face only seems to intensify. What the hell were you doing? This was ridiculous! This man just robbed you of your life savings and here you are letting him eat you out! He could kill you - he still might after he’s finished with you!

None of these revelations have remotely tempered the sheer arousal coursing through you.

You start to move away from him. Prey realizing too late that they’re already trapped in the predator's jaws.

“Oh no ya don’t.” He yanks you back towards him by your ankle. “Can’t back out now, doll. That wouldn’t be fun for either of us.” He grabs your arm, hauling you out of the vehicle into the night. You stumble a little as your feet hit the ground. You spot your pants laying a few feet away, acutely aware of your current state of undress compared to his. Toji hardly gives you time to find your footing before pressing his lips against yours once more. You’re more prepared for this kiss this time- pushing your chest against his and winding your arm around his waist. Teeth clashing, lips bruising at the intensity. Before was messy, full of spit and the slightest gentleness. This? This was no less than Toji claiming you as his own. Another treasure to be had, rich lands to be conquered. He towers over you, placing one hand up under your jaw to tilt your head upwards for ease of access.

He puppets you in the kiss, pushing and pulling as he moves you away from the open door towards the side of the trunk. You chase his lips, trying to keep an idea of where the car is with a hand following the frame. He pulls away once he’s got you up against a more solid section, and with a hand on either hip he spins you to face the car. You don’t have much time to process the sudden move before he presses himself against your back, warmth radiating through the fabric of your top a stark contrast to the cold metal beneath you.

One thick, calloused hand runs up under your shirt towards your chest - the other slowly moving over your hip towards your slick pussy. Toji presses his face against the crook of your neck, breathing over the exposed skin. You feel fully encased in him, a thought both comforting and terrifying. As with everything else, he doesn’t wait. One finger runs up and down your slit, playing once more with your clit while the hand under your shirt pinches your nipples through your bra. It doesn’t take long for small pants and whimpers to fall from your lips again as he works you back up towards that high.

He presses two fingers back into your velvet cunt, surprisingly gentle as he works you open once more. His other hand unclasps your bra, allowing it to fall forward enough to comfortably take your breast into his hand. His teeth graze your neck and he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You whine, rolling your hips forward against his palm.

The superheated knot in your core hardly has time to redevelop before he again leaves you empty and aching. You throw your head back, resting the side of your face against his hair. You try to press back against him, whining at the loss of his fingers.

“Please….”

“Please what? Do you know how to say anything else?” He nips at your jaw, his voice positively dripping with the amusement plastered over his features.

“Please stop playing and just fuck me already!”

This may not count as smart-assing your way to an early grave but it is certainly close.

Toji grins against your skin - “Greedy.” - and bites at your ear. His hands disappear from your body, but his mouth remains glued to the side of your neck. He sucks a small mark in the skin under your ear. You hear the rustle of fabric as his tongue traces over the bruise and down the curve of your jaw. The next moment he’s pressed back against you, obvious bulge pressed squarely against your ass. You try to reach behind, return just a bit of what he’s given you tonight - but Toji’s hands are already pressing your front down into the side of the trunk. One hooks under your thigh just slightly, spreading your feet apart just so. The cold air brushes like hot fire against your skin as he moves away.

You turn your head to the side, not wanting to take your eyes off of him.

One hand lazily strokes his cock, tall and proud, precum catching the light from the tail lights. He’s immersed in their red glow, raven hair mussed against the night sky.

“This is what you wanted, right doll?”

You wet your lips ever so slightly. You nod. He tuts.

“We talked about this.”

“Yes! Yes I-ah-I want this.”

He smirks and presses himself back against you. You feel the head of his cock nudging at your folds, dragging through your slit to gather some of the wetness there. His left hand grips your hip, fingers digging into the plush skin. The head catches ever so slightly on your seeping hole on each drag. Toji continues for only a moment more before positioning himself right against your entrance.

With a small kiss to the nape of your neck, he pushes in.

You feel like you’re being split open. He’s much longer than you realized - pressing against your cervix before he’s even bottomed out. The girth is just enough to stretch, filling you so deliciously. You hardly get a moment to adjust before he snaps his hips up into you. He presses his length fully into you with each thrust, pushing you forward with the sheer force behind them. As with everything tonight, his thrusts are rough and calculated. Bruising. Even when he’s mostly out of you, the throbbing sensation of your cervix being battered remains. It takes everything in you to remain upright. You cry out with each thrust, hands frantically trying to keep you steady on the smooth metal. You rock back against him as best you can, further amplifying his already bruising speed.

The pace steals the air from your lungs, tightening around your core and leaving you panting against the car frame. Every inch of you burns with a passion and intensity you could hardly even fantasize before. The feeling of him stretching you open, the stars faintly twinkling in the distance, the mild ache from your now neglected clit, all burns their way into your muscles, taking up home in your memories. You want to close your eyes. You don’t want to miss the slight contortions of his face as he thrusts up into your slick heat. You need to focus on what you’re feeling. You want to lick at the sweat building at his brow, to inhale him into you.

God, you are one depraved individual.

A baser side of you takes over, finally letting your head fall to rest against the metal. A litany of incoherent, half-baked thoughts cross your mind and tumble out of your mouth. The knot in your stomach returns. He repeatedly snaps you back against him, the iron grip on your hips guaranteeing a new set of finger-shaped bruises in the morning. Toji readjusts his angle just slightly - enough to find that spot deep inside that steals your vision from you with each thrust. You choke out a garbled moan, and you miss the unsettling grin of a hunter that’s found its mark.

He pushes you fully against the car, front resting nearly on top of the trunk with his body pressed firmly against your back. One hand snakes down towards your clit, while the other hooks up under your thigh to allow him full access to your poor abused pussy. He rests his head on your back, right at the curve of your shoulder blade.

“Come on sweetheart, you’ve been so good for me this far.”

A calloused finger rubs circles on your clit. He nails your g-spot with nearly perfect precision. Your cunt flutters around his cock, the knot building and tightening with his attention.

“Give this to me. Remember this - ” a particularly rough thrust draws a cry from you “ - and who it was that made you feel like this.” He bites down onto the skin at the back of your neck, and combined with the finger on your clit and the thrusts against your cervix you can’t find it in yourself to hold on any longer. You’ve already given so much to him - your money, your body, your self-respect - you might as well give him a permanent home in your mind and fantasies. You think you’d probably give him anything if he asked for it. The tension building in your core finally bursts, flooding your senses with its white hot pleasure. You scream, shaking and clenching around him as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. You lean into the overstimulation, tears streaming down your face as the pleasure wracks through you in bursts. At the top of one of those bursts, Toji groans and snaps your hips back one last time to fully seat himself within you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, so much that it begins to leak out around the base of his cock.

The two of you don’t move for a moment, allowing the heat to settle and dissipate. Toji rests against you, one hand idly rubbing your side. If you weren’t almost entirely on the trunk you probably would’ve fallen to the ground by now. Every inch of you feels light and unreal. You start to focus on bringing yourself back down to reality; Toji pulls out and moves away from you. The night air on your back is refreshing, giving you something real to grab onto. Once you start thinking too hard about what just happened, you’re flooded with abject shame.

This man just robbed you of your life savings and… you had (mind-blowing) sex with him?!

You roll onto your back, groaning at the realization. You are quite possibly the stupidest person to ever exist. Or at least the stupidest one at this exact moment. How the hell were you going to get home? He already said he wasn’t just going to drop you off! Fuck -

Toji pulls you out of your shame spiral, pressing a bundle of cloth - your pants probably - into your arms.

“Ah, t-thanks.”

He’s fully dressed already, though it wasn’t like he took off much of his clothing to begin with. There’s a small piece of fabric hanging from his pocket, and you realize with increasing shame that it’s your panties. He notices you eyeing it and only smirks before fully hiding it in his pocket.

“A souvenir. From our little… honeymoon.” You aren’t willing to focus on that any longer, instead electing to get your own pants on - sans proper undergarments. “Well doll. It was nice knowin’ ya.”

Oh shit.

Oh fuck oh shit oh fuck - he’s actually going to kill you now. Your heart races and you brace yourself against the car. You open your mouth, fully prepared to plead your case - I won’t say a word, this never happened, please just let me go - as Toji reaches into his other pocket. You want to cry. This has all been too much. He pulls out an envelope - one of the ones the teller at the bank gave you with your savings inside - and takes out a couple of bills.

Toji wrenches your hand away from the car, and presses the bills firmly into your palm. He even makes sure to close your fingers around them.

“Get a cab or somethin’. Don’t want ya wandering around too late. ”

Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, staring dumbly after his figure as he walks around to the driver’s side. You try to process the absolute rollercoaster of emotions that was the past couple of minutes, but by the time you realize what’s happening Toji is already starting the car. You frantically feel your pockets -

“Hey! W-Wait!”

He doesn’t.

“Wait, jackass! My phone’s in there!”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji scenarios #toji thirst #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x you #toji fic #jjk smut #jjk x reader #fics #this was mortifying to write

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kirbyprompts · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐈𝐗 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 ( 𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐔𝐆𝐎 ) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

feel free to change the prompts as you see fit! warnings: mentions of death and murder and violence.

❝it’s almost midnight.❞

❝i’m not going to bet on my own death.❞

❝you’re a thief.❞

❝i know it comes easy, but try not to play dumb with me.❞

❝i’m fairly sure you’re threatening me. but i want to be more certain before i decide to what to do about it.❞

❝i can’t wait to wipe that look off your face.❞

❝things aren’t going quite as planned, are they?❞

❝do you really think that secret would die with me?❞

❝shame holds more value than coin ever can.❞

❝always one step ahead, aren’t you?❞

❝i’m a creature of habit.❞

❝when everyone knows you’re a monster, you needn’t waste time doing every monstrous thing.❞

❝men mock the gods until they need them.❞

❝get away from me.❞

❝i need a mug of the darkest, bitterest coffee i can find. or maybe a real punch to the jaw.❞

❝you look exhausted. will you sleep at all tonight?❞

❝if i want to watch men dig holes to fall into, i’ll find myself a cemetery.❞

❝you’re smart, but you need to learn patience.❞

❝are you going to explain any of this?❞

❝brick by brick, i will destroy you.❞

❝fate has plans for us all.❞

❝the brain is just another organ.❞

❝if you’d wanted to help me, you know you could have.❞

❝when have i ever done something for nothing?❞

❝i may die, but i’ll die on my feet with a knife in my hand.❞

❝i can take it.❞

❝you could have come to me on your hands and knees, and my answer would be the same.❞

❝you can keep your money. choke on it.❞

❝don’t i have a say in this? i’m sitting right here.❞

❝i’m not useless.❞

❝you wouldn’t know a good time if it sidled up to you and stuck a lollipop in your mouth.❞

❝the easiest way to steal a man’s wallet is to tell him you’re going to steal his watch.❞

❝it’s hard to keep track of all your wisdom.❞

❝i worry about everything. that’s why i’m still alive.❞

❝there’s a difference between confidence and arrogance.❞

❝the heart is an arrow. it demands aim to land true.❞

❝i’m not sure i have a heart to give any more.❞

❝you at least owe me your best imitation of a human being.❞

❝i can tell you how this one ends, but you’re not going to like it.❞

❝did we win?❞

❝i don’t want to die.❞

❝you came back for me.❞

❝i protect my investments.❞

❝say you’re sorry.❞

❝you’re making me nervous.❞

❝i’m just doing my job. stop glaring at me.❞

❝my ghost won’t associate with your ghost.❞

❝don’t try to move, just rest.❞

❝i’m fine. you’re the one who got stabbed.❞

❝it’s just so much easier to kill people than take care of them.❞

❝don’t make me laugh. that feels awful.❞

❝how long was i out?❞

❝there was enough blood to paint a barn red.❞

❝i’m not a criminal.❞

❝if you aren’t born with every advantage, you learn to take your chances.❞

❝why do you think you know everything about me?❞

❝i want to show you something.❞

❝i’ve been looking for an excuse to talk to you for two days.❞

❝i’ve never heard you admit you’re not good at something.❞

❝i don’t want this.❞

❝unclench your jaw. you’re going to grind your teeth down into nothing.❞

❝shut your eyes.❞

❝you don’t smell like roses any more.❞

❝it’s not normal for someone to be as stupid as they are tall, and yet there you stand.❞

❝i can’t believe your face is going to be the last thing i see before i die.❞

❝i hate the way you talk.❞

❝do you think i care what you like or don’t like?❞

❝there’s always more to lose.❞

❝what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?❞

❝i have been made to protect you. only in death will i be kept from this oath.❞

❝are you afraid of me?❞

❝all right, what do you do for fun?❞

❝what are you so afraid will happen? afraid you might start to like me?❞

❝let me go.❞

❝i will always be a threat to you.❞

❝we’re under attack.❞

❝you did everything but tell the truth.❞

❝what was that?❞

❝just keep talking.❞

❝doesn’t matter how big the gun is if you don’t know where to point it.❞

❝we’re either geniuses or the dumbest sons of bitches to ever breathe air.❞

❝what good is a lockpick without his picks?❞

❝you aren’t going to kill me, and i’m not going to pretend everything is okay.❞

❝stop being dense. you’re cuter when you’re smart.❞

❝have you ever been in a fight?❞

❝i don’t want to kill people, not really.❞

❝you’re obviously dangerous. i’d prefer you never became dangerous to me.❞

❝better terrible truths than kind lies.❞

❝your death belongs to me.❞

❝i want a job.❞

❝i practice the art of ‘pull his shirt over his head and punch till you see blood.'❞

❝a good magician isn’t much different from a proper thief.❞

❝why didn’t you tell me?❞

❝thank goodness we’re proper thieves.❞

❝if you survive and i don’t, make sure i have an open casket. the world deserves a few more moments with this face.❞

❝if we don’t survive this night, i will die unafraid. can you say the same?❞

❝you don’t have to do this, you know.❞

❝i’ve done worse.❞

❝i’m not sure why i began this, but i know why i have to finish. i know why fate brought me here, why it placed me in the path of this prize.❞

❝you’re very graceful in battle, just not while you’re plummeting.❞

❝you presume a great deal.❞

❝i learned the same way you learn about anything. take it apart.❞

❝who am i now?❞

❝you stink of decency.❞

❝we have a party to go to.❞

❝i’m afraid for you.❞

❝i need a dose of imminent peril to get my head straight.❞

❝you can help by shutting up and staying out of the way.❞

❝i don’t like that sound. what’s wrong?❞

❝i don’t love killing people.❞

❝i don’t have any business criticizing you.❞

❝you gave me the tools for vengeance when i needed them the most.❞

❝if we make it out of here alive, i’m going to kiss you unconscious.❞

❝have you come to kill me?❞

❝you shouldn’t make friends with crows.❞

❝you’ve cheated death too many times.❞

❝you won’t shoot me. you need information.❞

❝i. should. let. you. die.❞

❝don’t touch me.❞

❝you almost drowned. you should have drowned.❞

❝this would be a really good time to say you saw this coming.❞

❝i didn’t see this coming.❞

❝they won’t take me alive.❞

❝we’re all someone’s monster.❞

❝you look radiant.❞

❝it seems you prayed to the right god.❞

❝you know you can’t stop them all.❞

❝what will you do when there’s no more blood to shed or vengeance to take?❞

❝was there never another dream?❞

❝what do you want, then?❞

❝stay. stay here. stay with me.❞

❝i want you to stay. i want you to… i want you.❞

❝i don’t want you to see me like this.❞

❝we all carry our sins. i need you to live so i can atone for mine.❞

❝i want to feel safe again. i want to go home.❞

❝i’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but i’m not that good a liar.❞

❝maybe i liked your stupid face.❞

❝i’m going to invent a new trick.❞

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #rp sentence starters #roleplay memes #sentence starters

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ilguna · 1 year

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☼ the rescue (Rick Grimes) ☼

summary; you were the first one to find Judith during the fall of the prison, making it your responsibility to get her back to Rick, safe and sound.

warnings; swearing, death, death mention, gore.

wc; 4.6k

NOTES; season 4/5 spoilers, read at your own risk.

–

For the record, if you’d known exactly how limited your stay at the prison was going to be, you would’ve done a few things differently. For example, you might’ve packed an easily accessible emergency bag with supplies that would put you ahead a week. You would’ve been on your toes, waiting for the clue of the inevitable. You might’ve been a bit more cautious on what you did throughout your day.

In fact, you probably would’ve realized that your group was going to be attacked by the governor on the same day that Hershel and Michonne went missing for an hour more than what was planned. Which you noticed, but no one else seemed to be worried about. They kept telling you that they might’ve run into a few problems out there, like starting the fire to burn the bodies.

Well, their disappearance led right to the whole prison being destroyed by an army with tanks and grenades, which led to being overrun by walkers and virtually inhabitable. You would never be able to go inside that building ever again and say that you felt safe enough to sleep there. The governor ruined your lives yet again.

The more you look back at it, the angrier you get because of it. You would’ve done so many things differently that day. Especially now that you know that you would be the first person to find Judith, and leaving her behind was completely out of the question. You weren’t prepared to take care of a baby you barely knew on the road, with absolutely no clue on how to keep you both safe without prioritizing one person’s needs over the other.

Of course, you’ve taken care of Judith before. The problem is that it was always inside of the safety and the comfort of the prison, a secured area. You’ve held her, watched over her for short periods of time. However, you were always the backup to Beth when she couldn’t or didn’t want to. Rick trusted you when he didn’t have anyone else to turn to, which wasn’t very often. Out of a seven day week, you’d watch her for one day for maybe a few hours. It was always because Rick knew that you’d drop your plans for the day to help him.

Out here, it doesn’t work the same. You’ve been on edge the past few days trying to keep up with her demand for formula and diapers, a problem you never worried about before because that was always a runner’s problem. You were more of a patrol and monitor.

You’ve raided two grocery stores by now, some shelves full, others clean except for the dust that’s been collecting inside. You’ll have her strapped to your chest, knowing full well that there’s at least a dozen walkers somewhere inside of the building, waiting for you to stumble and reveal exactly where you are. Just so that they can catch you and eat you alive.

It doesn’t help that you’re not sure if you’re getting any better at consoling her. When she cries it’s loud, and practically impossible to get her to calm down unless you provide your undivided attention, which you have to drop everything to do. The areas that you’re traveling through aren’t necessarily safe for babies. The only bright side is that you’re getting better at predicting when she’s getting fussy.

This doesn’t even take into account that you’ve had a few close calls with walkers and humans alike. Whether the dead are hiding around the corners, or so obvious but are strong enough to knock you down, it never fails to get you hyped up. Especially since there’s a group that’s been in your area for the past week, following you, and they’re fucking terrifying.

You were traveling through an adjacent neighborhood the other day, and they were nearby. They must’ve come across someone in one of the houses. You could hear every second of them making a game out of his life. And in the end he died anyway, as they were never planning on actually keeping him alive.

As if any of this isn’t stressful enough, you’re supposed to be finding your group, or any sort of part of them. You just want a sign that you’re all heading to the same place. So far, the only idea you’ve had the whole time on where they might be is coming from the maps that are displayed everywhere next to the train tracks. It’s an old trainyard that you’ve been walking for days to find.

It’s a place called Terminus.

You know nothing about it, only that it’s the nearest settlement in miles, and that the rest of the group might have been thinking the same thing you are; you’ll all meet there. After spending two years with them, you’d hope that you’d be thinking along the same lines as they are.

You just need to get there, as soon as you have one other person, it’ll be easier to think straight.

Judith lets out a huff, squirming against your body. You readjust her in the wrap to make her comfortable again, but if she’s getting restless, then it’s only a matter of time before she throws a fit. You hum to her for a few minutes, watching for the next entrance to the neighborhood.

You figured out the trick to covering as much distance as possible, and it’s traveling at night while she’s sleeping. Unfortunately, you think you’re running out of that luxury, the longer you take, the farther away the group might be getting. They’re probably accepting the fate that Judith’s already dead, and you’re somewhere buried in the rubble back at the prison.

You haven’t slept since yesterday afternoon, and you can’t really afford to stop again. However, as much as it sucks, you need to stop to rest for an hour for Judith’s sake. If you let her out of the wrap for a little while, then she might be able to go on for longer tonight.

You cross through the grass, heading for the third house in the neighborhood. The streets are relatively clear, if you don’t count the fall leaves that cover the concrete. There’s not a single walker to be seen nearby, so you have high hopes that the houses are going to be pretty empty.

“It’s okay, Judith.” You murmur, supporting the back of her head with your hand while you wander up the porch steps. You take in the outside of the house as you get closer, like the fact that the windows are still intact, which is a good sign. You can see through the front window that there’s curtains inside, it’ll allow you to hide you from the outside. It’s almost a perfect place to stay.

The doorknob is cold to the touch, and you half expect it to be locked, but it’s not, it’s just stiff against the doorframe as if it hasn’t been moved since the beginning of the apocalypse. You use your shoulder to force it open a little quicker. You close it gently.

The house is quiet, leading you to believe that it’s empty, but you’re not dumb enough to believe that. You slam your hand on the wall a few times, hoping to stir any walkers that might be lurking inside of the house.

While you wait for them to come out, you make your way through the house, occasionally knocking on surfaces, pausing to listen, and continuing. Every room you pass through seems clean and preserved. There must be only one walker here, because by the time you’ve made it through the first floor, it’s made itself known by banging on a door upstairs. You finish your sweep, moving into the living room to close the curtains before going upstairs.

The bedrooms are all empty, the exception being the noise that’s coming from what seems to be a closet. You go into the master bedroom to lay Judith in the middle of the bed while you take care of the walker. It’ll only be for a minute, she can survive being alone.

You shut the door behind you, heading straight for the closet. As you pull out your knife, you position yourself behind the door. That way you’ll be able to kill it from behind while it stumbles forward. You carefully reach forward, turning the knob and jerking back as it hazardously swings open.

Just as you thought the lone walker comes out, fingers bending at awkward angles as it moves forward, searching for the source of the noise. You bump the door out of the way, plummeting your knife into the back of its head. Its knees buckle, immediately falling forward. You struggle to get your fingers untangled from its greasy hair in time.

You’re entirely too slow, accidentally pulling a chunk of it out. You let out a closed-mouth shrill noise, flinging it across the room. You watch as it hits the wall, and refuses to fall further than that. You press your lips together, wanting to gag at the sight, but instead you reach forward, pulling your knife out of the back of its head.

Leaving the body where it is, you head over to the bathroom to wipe off your knife and your hands. As you’re digging through the drawers and cupboards, you come across baby wipes and a bottle of hand sanitizer, which you proceed to dump on your hands. The baby wipes are a lost cause, every single one of them’s dry. You dump the package into the trash can by the toilet, and leave to go to the master bedroom.

Already, the stench of the rotting corpse is filling the air. You’ve gotten used to the smell to some degree, but not well enough to be able to ignore it completely. You open the door to the bedroom to find that Judith hasn’t moved an inch.

She’s awake, though, and stares as you get closer. It’s probably about time you change her and give her a bottle, let her relax some before you leave the house and get back on the road again. First things first, you need to check to see if there’s any baby supplies in the house.

For the most part, you’ve already searched the entire downstairs. There wasn’t any formula from what you saw, but that doesn’t mean there’s not anything else. Other people could’ve passed through and left something behind. Besides, the baby wipes were a sign of hope to you.

You check the master bedroom first, since you’re here. You go through the closet, the dresser and even the nightstand. There’s nothing that could be useful, not even a bottle of ibuprofen. You scoop Judith into your arms as you move into the next room, hoping it’ll be different.

This one seems to be staged as a guest bedroom, so you’re not all that surprised when you toss it and find nothing in here, either. The third and final bedroom seems to have belonged to a little girl. The walls are painted a light lavender, there’s a Barbie house in one corner, a toy chest overflowing with dolls and stuffed animals alike on the opposite side.

You search the dresser drawers, finding clothes that are entirely too big for Judith. If you had to guess the girls’ age, it couldn’t be more than three years old. When you open up the closet, you’re met with nothing that’ll help you. Just a bag of toy accessories that are small enough to choke on, and when you pull down an old box, you’re met with a faceful of dust, and nothing even remotely helpful inside of the box.

Judith sneezes, you use your sleeve to brush the dust off of her face.

Well, the good news is that you still have enough supplies to carry you to Terminus. All you have to do is hope that they’ll have something for you there. Or if Rick is there, he’ll be able to step up and take over completely. He might have stopped going out on run’s altogether back at the prison, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a clue on where to find said supplies.

Back in the master bedroom, you shut the door and lock it, laying Judith on the bed. You check the windows, pop the lock, and push it open. It’s wide enough for you to make a quick escape if you need to. For good measure, you kick out the screen that keeps bugs from coming inside. You’d rather be safe than sorry, and the less noise you make on the way out, the better.

You change Judith, prepare her a lukewarm bottle of milk, and then sit on the bed while you feed her. An hour, that’s all you can afford to relax. If you keep walking, then you think you might make it to Terminus by tonight. You’re not sure how they’ll react if you walk up during the early hours of the morning.

Once you’re done feeding Judith, you rub her back for a few minutes to get her used to the sensation. And then you throw a shirt over your shoulder as you get to burping her. You’ve watched Beth and Rick do it a hundred times, and you’ve done it so many times in the past couple of days, too. You’re supposed to do it during the feeding, which you usually do, but since this is such a small bottle, you decided to wait until the end.

When you’re done, you decide to lay on the bed, carefully positioning Judith on your chest in the hope that she’ll fall asleep faster. You rub her back slowly, staring at the ceiling. You’ll be lucky if she even goes down, especially with how often you’ve been forcing her to sleep lately. You can’t help it.

You close your eyes, thinking about how your arrival at Terminus will go. They’ll probably greet you at the gate, get you situated somewhere comfortable. You’ll ask about Rick, or any small groups that seem to have arrived one after the other lately. And then they’ll lead you straight to your friends, whom you’ll coordinate your next steps with.

It’s right around the corner…

—

The sound of the front door being slammed off its hinges wakes you with a terrifying start. An instant shot of adrenaline hits your body as you move to sit up. You manage to catch Judith before she slides off your chest from the speed you sit up at, blinking rapidly to get the static to go away.

You don’t move just yet, though, listening for another noise to confirm you’re not hearing things. You can see golden sunbeams on the bedroom door, telling you that it’s no longer morning, and it’s creeping into night already. You fell asleep thinking about Terminus and your group, and it was for far much longer than an hour.

The sound of several men laughing downstairs is enough for you to get moving. You carefully lay Judith down on the bed, turning to the baby wrap that’s laying on top of your backpack. You yank it onto your body, trying to tie it securely but quickly, because you will not be caught dead in front of these men.

As you’re putting Judith into the sling, you can hear heavy boots against the wooden stairs. You fix her leg, tucking her head against your chest. You slide open the window, throw your backpack onto the roof, and then scramble over the nightstand to get out of it. You move the screen out of the sight of the window, and shut it for good measure, hurrying to get out of sight.

This creates a new problem on how you’re going to get down. If it were just you, you’d break your legs jumping down onto a semi-soft surface, and then you’d get to running. You have Judith strapped to your body, and even though it would be easiest to go through the house to get out the front door, there’s no way you’ll make it that entire length without fucking up somehow. Whether that be from Judith making a noise, or someone catching you.

You wander along the roof, surveying the areas where you can leave. From what you can tell, the entire group of men are inside of the house. You don’t have to worry about them being outside, for now. Which leaves only one option on how you’re going to get out of here; jumping onto the porch.

You crouch by the front of the house, slowly pulling the backpack off of you, and throwing it down. Most of the important stuff inside of the bag, like food and water, are packaged so that there’s no chance that you’ll waste what’s inside. You were smart enough to do that to her formula after the first sticky situation you came across.

You move the scarf wrap so that it’s holding Judith’s head in place, hoping that it’s enough support. You sit, and then scoot, and hang your legs over the side of the roof, gritting your teeth at the strain and the idea of jostling Judith too much. You let go with one hand, and have enough time to grab Judith before you fall the rest of the way, knees hitting the painted wood painfully hard.

Judith doesn’t cry, and since you can still feel her breathing on your chest, you stand to leave. In that same moment, you can see that the group of men decided to open the living room curtains, allowing them to see the outside. You freeze long enough for you to have a brief staring contest with one of the men inside.

It was almost a perfect escape.

You turn to leave, hearing him shouting inside. You nearly trip down the porch stairs twice, and barely grab your backpack as you take off running, the front door slamming open once again. Once the backpack is secured on your shoulders, straps pulled tight, you hold Judith’s head while you run deeper into the neighborhood.

It’s fairly diverse, and the further you go, the more walkers you come across. You dodge them, weaving between houses and beaten down backyards. They’re yelling at you, what they’re going to do when they catch you. You grit your teeth, panting heavily as you head in one direction, and then switch to throw them off.

It’s a home stretch when you find the woods, flat-out disappearing inside of them. You hope that the sun sets a little faster, because once the light is gone, it’ll be harder for them to find you, and since they use flashlights, it’ll be easier for you to see them.

You alternate between running and walking for another hour, trying to find your way back to the train tracks. Eventually you’re forced to stop again to change Judith and set her up for another bottle. You crouch next to a tree, leaning on it for support. Judith sits on your thigh facing away while you pat her back, burping her again.

She’s fussy because of all the jostling from the running, you can’t be mad at her for it. It just means that you’ll have to take it slow from now on and wait for her to fall asleep, if she’ll even do that. You let her sleep when you took that nap yourself, she’s probably not going to go back down.

You close your eyes, letting your head hang. It can’t be that long to Terminus. You’ll walk along the tracks until you find a map, and from there you’ll calculate how far away you must be.

That’s exactly what you do. You hold Judith in your arms, quietly humming songs to her while you walk through the trees, keeping an eye out for the tracks. You can see an abandoned train car, which you make a beeline for immediately. On the outside wall, there’s a map with the path you’re taking highlighted in pink.

You’re closer to the trainyard than you thought you were, but it’s still going to be a while until you reach it. From here, you need to follow the tracks, they’ll lead you right to Terminus.

The walk there is quiet and eerie. The sun sets the rest of the way, allowing the night creatures to come out. There’s owls and crickets to fill the silence, you’re somewhat grateful for. It’s when the wolves start howling, do you grow nervous about what else might be around you. You take the chance of walking directly on the tracks after that.

You have to take several breaks to keep Judith from screaming her head off. She’s growing tired of you walking for hours on end. You wish she could understand that you’re not doing this to her on purpose. You wish so badly to lay down and go to bed like normal for once, instead of fucking up your sleep schedule. If you could afford to, you would.

You didn’t realize that the group that’s been following you had been so close. You thought that they were further behind, especially because they kept dicking around in every area they passed through. You thought that because of how long you’ve been traveling in the night that it would put them hours behind.

In the early hours of the morning, when the sun begins to rise again and the sky is turning a lighter shade of navy, you decide to sit down for an hour. You take care of Judith, pinching yourself when you feel the exhaustion dawning on you. You can’t afford to sleep. The Terminus maps are getting more popular, so you have to be getting closer.

You stretch, and eat the last of the food that you’ve been saving. You’ve been drinking out of a jug of water over the past week, and it’s basically done for. It’s the same water you’ve been using for Judith’s bottles. You’re surprised it didn’t run out days ago, and it might have something to do with the fact that you’re drinking out of it sparingly, hoping to avoid going back into another grocery store.

You pick Judith up, and get back to walking for the rest of the day. Despite the fact that it’s getting colder at night, it’s done nothing in the daytime. You’ve got the sun beating down on the side of your face for most of the day, causing a nasty headache to form that only goes away when you relax your face. Which is hard to do with the sun.

It’s a miserable circle.

By the afternoon, you’ve begun to drag your feet, wanting to take another break. You push through because of the last map, telling you that you’re only a couple of miles away now. Judith continues to squirm uncomfortably, making you wince and readjust her, only for her to return to the position.

You stop to change her, and use the last of the water on another bottle that you give her while you walk. She manages to spit up half of it back up and on your shoulder, causing you to pull off your shirt to change into the spare. She begins to cry after that, probably expecting you to stop and take a longer break, rather than ignoring the fact that your favorite shirt was ruined by baby spit up.

You bury it in the leaves. What else are you supposed to do with it? Wash it? As if you have time for that anymore.

The sun is coming back down when you finally see the fencing through the trees. For the first time in several days, energy and excitement bubble up inside of you. You support Judith in the wrap as you walk faster, eager to see the building that you’ve been walking days to see.

However, as you get closer, you begin to realize that the smoke in the air is coming from the trainyard. Your fingers lace through the fence, face screwing at the sight of Terminus. It’s an eerily familiar sight to a place you lost only a week before. It’s a replica of the prison.

The building is on fire, attracting walkers. The dead are all shuffling inside, trampling over the fence that once protected the place. You can even hear the faint sound of gunfire, the owners trying to protect the place that they had been living in. It’s clear that something bad happened here, and all you can do is hope that your prison group wasn’t inside when it happened.

You can’t help the sigh that leaves your mouth, and you struggle to blink away the tears of frustration when they spring into your eyes. What are you supposed to do now? This was your goal, this was supposed to be the end of you traveling alone. You have Judith, who’s growing increasingly difficult to take care of, since you can’t even do it properly, and you’ve got a group that’s been tailing you for days now. They’re probably not even that far away. It’s only a matter of time before they find you.

You sniff, and wipe away a stray tear, turning away from the fence. You shuffle back to the tracks, because there might have been something that you missed. You stopped paying attention because you were trying so hard to keep your eyes open to be alert if a walker came around. There’s a chance that your group did come through and left a sign for stragglers.

At this point, anything would be better than nothing.

The hushed sound of voices brings you to a stop, already turning to run. You lower yourself to the ground first, trying to peer through the trees. You need to make sure that it’s the group that’s been on you. You saw a good number of their faces back at the house.

You catch sight of curled hair, the man turns his head enough for you to see the side of his face. The stubble that covers the lower half of his face, the scowl that his mouth is twisted into. It’s a familiar face—it’s your familiar face.

You can’t help leaping to your feet at the sight, starting toward him, “Rick!”

He’s wearing a brown jacket that you don’t recognize, a hard look on his face. He turns stiffly, hands prepared on the automatic in his hands. He’s not the only one you can see from your group. There’s more—everyone. Everyone is here from what you can tell.

A smile breaks over Rick’s face at the sight of you, arms opening to embrace you. You wrap one arm around his body, fighting the sob that’s trying to make its way out of you. You thought that you weren’t going to see him again.

“(Y/n).” Rick murmurs into your hair.

You don’t want to, but you pull away from the hug, grabbing Judith out of the wrap so that he can see her. He’s confused for a moment, it’s not registering, and then his face smooths over, mouth falling open.

“Judith.” He takes her from you.

Carl lets out a choked noise, coming forward to see his baby sister.

“I grabbed her.” You hold onto his jacket, “I’ve been taking care of her, but she hasn’t been making it easy.”

He lets out a laugh, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and letting Carl take her when he reaches. You open your mouth to speak again, when Rick pulls you closer, and then presses his lips to yours.

The movement happens too fast, and you’re barely registering the fact that he’s kissing you for the first time, and his lips are so warm, and you’re so happy that you found him, when he’s pulling away. He doesn’t move too far, only enough for him to speak, whispering against your lips, “Thank you.”

#ilguna #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes fanfic #twd #the walking dead #request #fluff

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stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage · 11 months

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I need to gush about Origins and discuss Duncan okay, listen- DAO is so good for a plethora of reasons but it’s the origins, the thing that it’s literally named after. Which origin you play is the important decision on the players part that has an impact on everything you do, especially if you go hard into the roleplaying of it all, it makes me want to scream. I adore it so much.

So Duncan, right? Great character, love that dude. I read The Calling and he's one of the best parts of that book. If you haven't read it, I recommend it just for Duncan alone.

I enjoy reading opinion pieces on Duncan, especially when the poster mentions which origin their warden is. I find it so interesting because your origin can change your entire perception of him.

Playing as Aeducan or Brosca? Duncan has great respect for dwarves just as the dwarves do for the wardens. Duncan’s your hero. He saved your life. You would’ve been executed or left to rot in the Deep Roads if not for him. And since the wardens are so respected, it’s honestly an honor to join them, no?

Playing a Cousland? You’ve lost everything. Duncan not only does what he can to keep your father alive long enough for you and your mother to find him, but he saves you and gives you a shot to avenge your family by becoming a warden.

Playing as Amell or Surana? Your best friend lied to you about being a blood mage and chances are you tried to help him escape rather than turn him in, and now he’s gone and Greagoir demands you be punished. But here comes Duncan to conscript you, to take you away from the prison known as the Circle of Magi.

And I know this can vary depending on how you play or what kind of character you’ve created, but I believe you’re waaaay more likely to have a better opinion of Duncan in these origins… but if you play as Mahariel or Tabris?

Mahariel’s more obvious, here. You’re Dalish, and odds are, you and Tamlen are on the same page about humans. Duncan, a human, dragged your ass back to your clan after the eluvian gave you the blight, and sure, that was nice of him… except when you go looking for Tamlen and Duncan destroys the mirror, he’s so dismissive. He doesn’t care about Tamlen. There’s no point in going looking for him, he’s dead. Also you have the blight and Duncan’s taking you away from your family to make you a warden and no, you have no choice in the matter. He'll force his hand if he needs to. Say goodbye, forget about Tamlen, you’ll never see your family again, you’re a warden now. Hope you have fun involving yourself in all these human affairs while everyone points out how different you are!

First off, I think most Mahariel players would agree that they’re still not over Tamlen. How many of you had the thought, “If we look just a little longer, we could find Tamlen and make him a warden, too!” only for Duncan to ruin that? I don’t blame any Mahariel for throwing a fit when he and the Keeper agree you need to go, nor do I blame them for any ill feelings toward him.

And Tabris? This one is personal; my canon warden is a female Tabris, Rosalie, and Duncan really gets to me.

Rose's already being made to marry a man she's never met, some human nobles made their first attempt to crash the wedding, and now here’s this other human waltzing in. Duncan is such a little shit here, too. When you try asking him to leave, he actively tries to push your buttons just to see what you’ll do. But that’s nothing. When Rose and the other women are taken by Vaughan and his buddies, Soris and Nelaros go to Duncan who pulls his bullshit “wardens can’t get involved, they must remain neutral, best I can do is give you a sword and crossbow, good luck.”

Duncan KNOWS what will happen to those women but nope, can’t get involved. Wardens must remain neutral, can’t upset the nobles. I firmly believe that if Duncan had gone with them, Nelaros wouldn’t have been killed and maybe they could’ve made it to Shianni in time, and that infuriates me.

And yeah, in the end it’s Duncan who saves Rose from the guard, but you expect me to be okay with going with him? Alone? After everything that just happened?

It almost feels like Duncan was more interested in testing you, to see if you COULD get out of that situation or what you’d do when the guard showed up. That gives me a lot of complicated feelings about Duncan, and the way the Grey Wardens do things in general. Because let me tell you, Rose hurls that “Wardens must not involve themselves, they must remain neutral” out the fucking window, even post DAO after the blight is over and things return to “normal” for the wardens.

Side note, I like to think that the wardens out at Weisshaupt or wherever contact Alistair at some point like "What the hell is Warden-Commander Tabris doing over there??? She's breaking every rule we have??" and Alistair's just shrugs like "My wife killed an archdemon to end the Blight and survived, she gets to do whatever she wants forever and honestly, I love that for her."

But anyway-- I get it, Duncan. The Grey Wardens were booted outta Fereldan once before and we don't want a repeat of that. Sure. Fine. Makes sense...but also Rose doesn't give a shit about that? She may come to understand it eventually but that doesn't mean she accepts or forgives it, or would ever be willing to adapt the same attitude.

And I'm not even going to get into everything with the Joining and Ser Jory, because oh my god.

Everything Duncan does influences Rose's views on the Grey Wardens and their duty, like if there was ever anything she and Alistair have straight up argued about, it's Duncan and the concept of "being a warden is an honor."

And I think that's neat. Duncan's a consistency in every origin and even though he dies so early on, his influence remains with the warden no matter who they are.

#dragon age origins #dragon age #dao #duncan dao #alistair theirin #warden rosalie tabris #i love duncan as a character but rose has mixed feels at best #she's probably only as kind as she is about him because that's alistair's father figure #and rose can sympathize with that given her relationship with her own father and nearly losing him

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hhighkey · 1 year

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Hi, I heard you asking for a random headcanon so I would like to give it a try. It's a Jujutsu Kaisen headcanon about how protective they were of their S/O

AN// haha i love this i love picturing these types of scenarios,, sorry for the wait! let me know if you want anymore if anyone wants a part 2 with more :)

JJK HEADCANONS

HOW PROTECTIVE THEY ARE

With Megumi, Gojo, Nanami

Fushiguro Megumi

he’s protective

he’s a teen boy in school that sees death on a daily

he’s dealt with a lot with family, harsh views from many as he’s been (imo) groomed for certain things that he’s trying to break free of and figure himself out

he may not know how to show you he loves you

he’s not great with words

he’s good with death stares and brooding moods

he’s good with avoiding you when he’s upset because he doesn’t know how to talk about it

if you’re a sorcerer he prefers to be paired up with you just in case

if you’re not- he wants people checking up on you

he needs to see you every night to see you’re alive and breathing

will end up being harsh or rude- getting upset if you act out or do something he deems dangerous. Will lecture you because he’s scared

he gets mad because he’s scared and doesn’t know what to do

is the type that if you’re trying to go somewhere at night will stop you edward cullen shit bye (but really why do i see him like this)

absolutely stands guard of your home or dorm at night imo

it ends up with you having to calm him down a lot

incapable of understanding you having male friends as he’s worried (not that he doesn’t trust you)

will not fall asleep until you’re asleep typa guy

buys you coffee, books, etc because he wants you to be happy

you’re the only person he can show his true emotions to so he’s scared he’ll lose you at any second

needs affirmations to remind him he’s the one for you

and if his family or any curses try to use you against him- they better watch out

Gojo Satoru

i’m not sure how popular my opinion on him is but this is how i see it

will kill anyone if they hurt you

will absolutely go to hell and back, destroy the world if he had to

no survivors type situation if need be

absolutely flips a switch, his strongest jutsu raining down hell

all because he loves you

gojo seems like the issue- nonchalant, childish, problematic with his teaching… until it strikes a chord with him

and you’re that chord

the light of his life

he knows your boundaries and what you’re capable of

will laugh as a guy or girl tries to hit on you and you just brush them off- but will step in as he sees things get out of hand

it’s like a dark glimmer appears in his eye as anyone messes with you

because you’re his

normally he takes his time handling issues, acting cool and unworried

but he is protective over you

even if you’re a sorcerer he’s like you’re weak compared to me ofc i’m going to help - I see him as someone when it comes to a s/o that will view them as weak and use that to his advantage

and if you’re a non-sorcerer I see it being even worse

because i see him as fun, a laughable guy to be able to go out with

but personally i see there being something darker when it comes to dating that he’s too much with you

ie. not meeting geto anywhere near you regardless of their friendship

wanting you’re location at all time

not letting you take jobs he deems too dangerous and does them himself

but otherwise he’s just an annoying ass man that doesn’t take anything serious but your safety

so i’m sure that causes plenty of fights :)))

tho i can imagine arguments with him being more frequent than with most

have fun!

Nanami Kento

i have a harder time with him

he would be a very serious partner

but he’s always looking out for you

he’s the type to be protective from afar- like observational protectiveness

you almost don’t even know, he does it from afar as he wants what’s best for you

protective in small ways like walking on the outside, handling hot items or knives whilst cooking, keeping a hand on your waist at the bar, taking care of you when you’re sick

things casually always work out for you because of him

he’s not overbearing like the others

like you can talk to him easier if you feel like he’s been on top of you too much

he’s just concerned about you, will have serious conversations about things that worry him- ie if you’re careless

if you’re sorcerer he’ll never take over your jobs or stop you from going but he’ll be a nervous wreck if he can’t accompany you- will want to train with you so he can be sure you’re safe

he will lecture

definitely has a dad mode without realizing it

and if you’re ever seriously hurt he will not leave you’re side, doing everything so you don’t have to lift a finger, and good luck getting out of his sight

#jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #anime #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro x reader #megumi headcanons #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons

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leefl00f · 14 days

Text

Papa (Electric shock) N (+ Uzi) headcanons!

Leefloof :3

Note: Decided that I wanted to post abt the goober just bc, hope you all enjoy! X3

Quick disclaimer: These hcs are what I think N would do as a father figure for Uzi in this au. Please do not comment on how weird you think it is, this is my personal view on their dynamic. Don’t like? Keep scrolling

Enjoy! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Warning(s): none, some SFW tickle content but not much, N being a father to Uzi (for those that think it’s weird) basic found family fluff (Father daughter dynamic), child loss, death

DNI N$FW/F3T!$H accounts!!! 🚫🔫

☁︎ ˚✧₊⁎☆₊⁎⁺˳✧˚☁︎ ˚✧₊⁎☆₊⁎⁺˳✧˚☁︎ ˚✧₊⁎☆₊⁎⁺˳✧˚☁︎

- In the mornings, N makes breakfast for the whole Doorman household. However, due to his size/height (7’11) he tends to accidentally bump things off counters and tables (though it’s mostly his tail’s doing)

- Loves to cook a lot (especially robo cookies or any baked goods), he tries to teach/help Uzi whenever she wants to help too

- Uzi sometimes asks N if he could read a bedtime story for her, which he happily does (Uzi also tells N to not tell anyone about this since she’s “not a kid” anymore (She’s 7-10 yrs old) and that it would be embarrassing if anyone else knew)

- When Khan doesn’t need him for anything, N would either lounge around or read a book (often reading sometimes to make time fly)

- Whenever Uzi gets a nightmare, N would go and sleep with her so she won’t feel alone (he’s also a night light for the little one)

- Overtime, he gains weight (my boi was skinny during the war, he was starving himself trying to save lives) doesn’t technically have a dad bod, but he’s squishy enough for Uzi to cuddle with him (plus he’s warm :3)

- N tends to carry Uzi around, normally piggyback or on his shoulders when they’re out somewhere (it’s a habit, she doesn’t mind though since it makes her feel tall)

- Makes lunch for Uzi and Doll during the school year (he leaves notes inside too)

- Makes bad dad jokes from time to time, he always giggling to himself before saying the punchline and the others would just stare at him blankly

- Glamrock Freddy coded

- One time during a mission, N put Uzi in one of those baby carriers (the one tat can be on a parent’s chest or back). He thought he lost her multiple times whenever (she was on his back)

- Uzi likes to grab onto N’s tail sometimes, she’s like a koala (But N knows how to get her off by tickling her)

- From a friend, N uses his tail to wrap around Uzi as a way to carry her, also to keep her from trouble (air jail)

- The droneling likes to “sneak up” on the Disassembly Drone whenever she can. N knows where she’s hiding, he just pretends he doesn’t to encourage her (J thinks he praises her too much however)

- Uzi also likes to challenge him in tickle fights (N loses the most, only bc he allows it)

- Also from a friend, she and N play with legos together (it always ends with them destroying the city)

- Freaking tickle monster

- N sometimes cries whenever he holds/cradles Uzi because it reminds him of another droneling

- During the war, the humans had raided a small camp leaving no one alive and needed help getting anything valuable from the rubble. During his search, N had found a child Worker, still very well alive, impaled by a pole. They were slowly dying and he couldn’t do anything about it. So he hugged them close as a way to comfort them in their last moments.

- He lost one, he is not losing another

- Sings happy songs to his younger patients while trying to treat their wounds

- “shh shh, I know it hurts but it’ll only be for a second okay?” “Hey hey, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay I promise.” “See? That wasn’t so bad was it?” “You were so brave! Good job!”

- Calls dronelings little ones, chickadees, jelly bean (normally Uzi), Bun Bun, the list goes on

- Cried when Uzi called him “Dad” one time

That’s all for now! Buh bye!! :3c

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

That memory loss fic has done me in. I’m on my knees, captain. A part 2 would make my week <3

I've seen the requests and I got you guys!! Was planning on this being the last part, but uh... it got rather long lol.

Price had escaped relatively unscathed despite how hard that punch was. Soap wasn’t too surprised, Price was very tough. It didn’t stop Graves from fussing over him.

“Uh, Captain?” He knocked and interrupted them. “Ghost is still...”

Price sighed, sitting back in his seat. “Any luck figuring out what’s going on?”

“Yes, actually. He thinks he’s been with a Roba for four months. Thought I heard you two mention the name before.”

Price visibly paled a little. “Ah. That’s not good. That’s not good at all.”

“Who is he?”

“Cartel leader a few years back. He had several soldiers taken. Experimentation, brainwashing, conditioning. It was nasty. Simon ended up the only person surviving it.”

Graves stood up. “I don’t think Ghost would want me around for this. I’ll see you two later.” He kissed Price’s cheek, punched Soap’s shoulder and left.

Soap nodded at him before continuing. “He thinks he’s four months in. He’s paranoid, not as much as I was expecting though. Let me give him a drink and only bit me once.”

Price nodded. “He’s not going to wear a mask like this. He didn’t back then. It would explain why he reacted that way in the van.”

Soap nodded. “Couldn’t see our faces.”

“I meant the skulls. Roba wore skull face paint. Had all his men wear it too. Not to mention a couple of other nasty memories. It’s why Ghost wears it. Symbol of fear for him.” Price sighed. “Did you try explaining?”

Soap was a little caught up in the information he was just given. He didn’t understand why Ghost would wear something that would remind him of his past like that.

“I told him he lost his memories and he said that’s a new form of brainwashing. Basically brushed me off. Gets real upset when you call him Ghost to. He also... made a couple concerning comments.... He mentioned a Lady. I said I’d reward him if he’d work with me and he said he didn’t want the Lady. Didn’t really specify. You know anything about that?”

“No. I’ll tell the nurses though. We’ll keep women from going in there alone, just in case. Doubt he’ll attack them, but we don’t want him anymore scared than necessary.” Price shook his head. “I hope we get this figured out soon. If not, he might have to go on leave and possibly discharged.”

Soap knew what that meant. If it goes on, Simon will disappear. He wasn’t technically alive. They’d be dumping him on the street.

“Sir, I’m aware that Ghost doesn’t have any living family.”

“Don’t tell him.” Price said immediately. “I’ll make sure everyone knows. We need to make sure he does not find out.”

“Why not? If he doesn’t wake up and he knows we lied...”

“Soap, that is a very valid worry. But Ghost right now is a very big flight risk. I’m... Simon will try to commit. He did it the first time he found out and he tried twice our first month of working together. He’s fragile. He can be pissed at us later. Right now, we have enough problems without needing him on suicide watch.” Price whispered it to him and Soap’s stomach turned.

“What do you mean tried to commit?? You’re telling me a man with three suicide attempts is allowed in the fucking army?” Soap hissed at Price. Besides the rules and regulations around those things, if Ghost really did try and Price just fucking let him go back. Let him on the field with big guns and plenty of opportunities to fucking die. Soap gritted his teeth to Keep himself quiet.

“Look, he’s legally dead. I know it’s hard to understand, but when he wasn’t let back in, he went to Mexico himself and destroyed an entire cartel single handedly. You want him walking the streets? Near civilians? Yes, in the beginning, he struggled. Was convinced he was dead. That he had never crawled out of the graves. Used to say and do shit that concerned me. He’s better.”

“Better? He wears a mask constantly and avoids conversation like the plague.”

“You didn’t see it.” Price suddenly sounded very far away. “I’m worried you’re about to, but you didn’t see it. You think Ghost is fucked up now? He walked around like a goddamn corpse. He found his family murdered only a few months after being tortured and buried alive. I feel like all things considered, he’s better than most.”

Soap was still angry. So goddamn angry. He just didn’t think it was directed at Price. “When was the last time he... attempted?”

“Over a year ago. He’s been clean since. I check him occasionally.” Price sighed. “I... need you to keep an eye on him. He won’t be as slippery as he is now, not as experienced, but he’s smart as hell.” He shook his head lightly.

“Will do, sir.”

“Soap, I know you two are close. I trust you, okay? Be careful with him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Price shook his head and looked away. Soap could see the exhaustion sound like the plague.

“How long did they have him?”

“Seven months.” Price sighed.

Soap nodded and then left Price’s office. He made his way straight to Ghost who was asleep now. One of the nurses smiled awkwardly.

“Gave him some drugs in his iv. Sedative and a painkiller.”

“Thought you weren’t supposed to sleep with a head wound?”

“Only when you first get them. He’ll be fine.” The nurse reassured. “You can sit with him as long as you want.” She took her leave and he settled next to Ghost again.

Soap hesitated before leaving for just a moment to grab his sketching tools. With his sketchbook and pencils, he started to sketch him. He so rarely got him maskless like this. He drew him with a loving amount of detail, including each scar and fleck on his skin. It passed the time as he waited for him to wake up.

After a moment, he reached over carefully and felt under his shirt, feeling the raised ridges of his scarring. When he had seen it, Ghost had explained it had occurred while he was captivity one time. They had made him. He had looked so ashamed that Soap hadn’t pressed.

Ghost yawned and looked up at him sleepily. “You’re here again. You were gone a while.”

Soap frowned. “Wasn’t gone too long.”

Ghost frowned at him, not saying anything. He noticed the book and tilted his head.

“Just taking notes.” Soap answered the question before he asked. He smiled gently. “Sleep well?”

“This bed is better than the concrete floor.” Ghost answered smoothly, smiling a little. It felt like an odd attempt at being suave. Soap blinked and nodded.

“Are sure? These beds might as well be made of rocks.” Soap laughed a little, trying to study the smile on the his face. He looked younger. Small.

Ghost looked away. “Didn’t say it was that much better.” He was clearly smiling again but he didn’t let Soap see it. Instead, he stretched as much as he could while cuffed and winced. “Morphine? That’s new.”

“How did you know it was morphine?”

“I’ve had to use it once or twice. Doesn’t have much of an effect on me but it takes the edge off.” Simon relaxed back into the pillows. “I’m starting to think you’re a dream. You were gone a while.”

“How long was I gone?”

“I don’t know. Time is funny.” Simon waved him off.

“What is usually used?”

“Opioids. Benzos. Hallucinogens. You guys keep me hiiiiiiiigh as a kite.” Simon’s words started to sound funny and Soap wondered if they maybe gave him a touch too much morphine.

“Well, like I said, i’m here to keep you safe.”

“Liar. They were just torturing me.”

“I don’t think fixing your iv is torturing you. Or poking at your bandages.” Soap smiled indulgently.

“One of them cut me open and cut out parts of my liver.” Ghost looked at him and Soap felt his breath catch at the aching sincerity there. “He fed a piece to me. I’d really prefer if you didn’t say you’ll keep me safe. You’ll just waste your breath. I know when you leave, it’ll start again.”

Soap stared at him. It must’ve been while he was asleep that he dreamed this. He looked at Ghost’s chest, what little he could see. Ghost had a giant y-shaped scar across his entire torso.

Soap leaned over and touched his hand. “Are you okay?”

Simon stared at him before slowly relaxing. “I’m fine. It’s weird. I feel like I know you.”

“You do. You do know me.”

“No, I don’t.” Simon pleaded. “I don’t know you.”

“Yes, you do, Ghost.”

“I’m not dead.” Simon said coldly. “I’m not dead. You can’t convince me I’m dead.”

“You’re right. You’re not dead. You’re right here with me.” Soap reassured, reaching up and gently tracing his jaw. Simon looked distressed.

“Stop it. Stop it.”

“What do you want me to stop doing?”

“You’re in my head. You’re messing with me.”

“No, I’m not. I promise you’re safe. I’m not going to leave again.” Soap comforted him until Simon weakly shook his head and dropped his head onto the pillow.

“Please...” Simon mumbled, staring up at him. “Please, I don’t want them to go back to the rainbow room. I don’t want the Lady.”

“No one is going to, Simon. I promise. Why don’t you go back to sleep? Aren’t you tired?”

Simon hummed, clearly fighting sleep. He did so for a while before giving in.

Soap took a deep breath and settled back down. His hands were shaking. After a moment of consideration, he messaged Price to update him, telling him that Simon woke up for a while before going back to sleep.

Before long, Soap ended up falling asleep in his chair, focusing on the steady beat of Ghost’s heart monitor.

Screaming. It shocked him awake and he jerked up, watching Simon writhe and scream as loud as he could.

“Make it stop. Please make it stop.” Simon mumbled between ear shattering wails.

Price and Gaz were suddenly there, both just as panicked as Soap was. They tried to hold him down and watched as he thrashed, yanking so hard on his restraints that for a moment Soap wondered if his wrist would snap.

Then, his wrist snapped.

Simon choked out, sounding so angry. “You promised. You promised you wouldn’t leave. There’s so much blood.”

Price grabbed Simon’s shoulders, pinning him down. “There is no blood. You’re safe.”

“it hurts it hurts so much. I don’t want it. I don’t want them.”

“I know, Simon. i know it hurts.” Price reassured. “You hurt yourself.”

“You bastards hurt me.” Simon hissed at him, but he was shaking so hard now. They were all trying to hold him down as much as they could. “Please. Please.” He begged, pleaded with Price to make it stop.

Price just stared at him, holding his shoulders down. He looked so helpless that Soap felt sick.

“I know, son. I’m so sorry.”

“He promised. He promised he wouldn’t leave.”

“I didn’t leave.” Soap said softly, though he was looking at Price. “I think he’s dreaming through his memories. Said something about me being gone a long time earlier.”

“Shit. Can’t really protect him from that.” Gaz said softly as Simon finally stopped struggling, staring at the roof.

“Who’s the Lady?”

“Pilar. Her name was Pilar. She can do things with her hips that men would kill for.” Simon mumbled and it sounded like he was quoting someone. He eventually closed his eyes. “I don’t want her.”

Soap felt like he was going to be sick. He traced the Glasgow smile on Simon’s face, despite Price’s alarmed look. “I’m sorry.”

“You left.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Soap decided. “How long was I gone?”

“It’s been... I don’t know. I think its been a month since we first met. It’s so hard. Time runs together.”

Soap bit his lip, feeling a hole digging in his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’ll make sure when you see me, it’s nice.”

“Fuck you.” Simon eventually coughed out and then just fell back against the bed. “Fucking hell.” He tried to curl away from their hands but it didn’t work. Ghost continued to shake for a while and they retracted their hands.

Gaz sighed shakily. “Is he... okay?”

“Go back to bed, Kyle.” Price smiled. “We’ll watch him.”

Gaz nodded and quietly stepped back. He left them alone.

Price shook his head. “Simon. Roba is dead.”

“No, he’s not. I see him. He’s there when I close my eyes.”

“Simon...” Price said softly. “This all happened a very long time ago.”

“Except it didn’t.” Soap pointed out. “To him, it feels like its right now. He’s currently going through it and there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”

Small tag list of people who asked for pt 2 @sad-innit @confuseddipshit @lildoodlenoodle @imfeelingdizzy @robo-hips @cactusisconfused

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2

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