#but he Loves her and will also save her life. and both those things are true

[judge-tenderly]

riz and adaine are the brain: obviously. but also because they have both at some point been ruled by their neuroses, they live in their heads, have been told their entire lives that the thing they are good for is their intelligence. it is what they can give to other people.

fabian and fig are the body: in completely different ways. fabian thought he knew his body when he was just fighting with it but it failed him. he had to learn to trust it again - to trust his instincts as well as what he’d been told his entire life. his instincts told him to dance, and he weaved that in with his fighting skills for both more complete control over his body and trust in it when he isn’t in control. this leads us into fig - instincts. she’s never completely felt fused to her own body the way most people do. it’s hers to with what she wants, including making it other people completely. those other people are still her though. she never sits with one thing, but moves fluidly wherever her instincts tell her to whether it makes sense or not. one of the coolest things a body can do is called the flexor / withdrawal reflex. when you touch a hot stove and pull back your hand before you’ve even registered the pain. the only time (that i know of) that your sensory receptors tell your muscles to move instead of relaying information to the brain and letting it decide. you literally have no choice whether or not you pull your hand back. your body decides for you. this is fig’s entire life. people often think the strongest, healthiest bodies are the biggest, sturdiest ones. yet often it’s the annoying bitches that do the most yoga, strength in flexibility. something fig (and now also) fabian have in spades.

kristen is the soul: seemingly inconsistent and ever changing, the only way kristen changes is cosmetically. she struggles so hard to find a god that makes sense for her because she’s not just finding her god. she’s finding a god for all the bad kids. because at the core of her, she is trying to do what is right, what is kind, what is best for everyone else. she wants to help people, save people. even if she doesn’t go about it the right way (ie immediately trying to convert everyone to helio on her first day) she is just trying to help. no matter what god she has, or who she’s faced with - that’s never changed. the soul is forever, and despite all aesthetics, so is kristen.

gorgug is the heart. because of course he is. “it’s gorgug keep going.” bum bum “it’s gorgug. keep. going.” he keeps them there, all together, all in sync when their differences threaten to overrule their similarities. he pulls them back in with the gravity axe he made for love of his parents and the culture that raised him. with the courage he had to stand up and declare he would in fact do the impossible. bum bum.

“it’s gorgug keep going.”

#fantasy high #fhjy #d20 #dimension 20 #dimension 20 fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #i know the withdrawal reflex isn’t exactly like that but i’m not going into interneurons in a post about dimension 20 on tumblr.com

[quimichi]

TW: obsessive behavior, talk about self harm, death, gore, blood, corpses, choking, talk about you being dead, bleeding, bro there's so much - MDNI

SUMMARY: A twisted boy with a twisted mind and a twisted love just for you ♡

CHARACTERS: Yandere x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 841

𓉸ྀི  Never EVER was Blake expecting to fall in love. At first sight too. He saw you and was instantly captured. My condolences, because with him in your life...it'll be turned upside down

𓉸ྀི You're his newest, recent hyperfixation, or better, obsession. Recent? Well, since he ever saw and read this short story in the internet, about death, killing, blood and guts, he was forever obsessed with it. Especially the graphic pictures that we're added for the "realism'. You see, one click on a link and a wrong turn can lead you down a dark alley filled with the darkest mysteries hold by internet. Hidden from those who would never dare step that far into an alley like this. Bit inviting and interesting to those curious enough to take a look...and forever be captivated.

𓉸ྀི with 12 year's old, exactly that happened. This weird 'dare' and a link went around school and of course 12 year olds are gonna jump on it like hungry wolves. His friend send him the link, he was dared to open it and take a look, but was to scared. So he send Blake the link also, so they can both take a look. Shared fear is only half the fear, right?

𓉸ྀི While his friend was throwinh up beside his bed, he kept scrolling. And scrolling...and scrolling. Weird...this doesn't affect him, at least not like his friend. Or how he thought it would. Everyone kept saying its gross, creepy and...twisted. Its odd that he, likes it.

𓉸ྀི His friend claimed he suddenly felt sick, so his mother picked him up. None of them wanted to raise suspicion of course...But the whole night long, Blake kept looking at the pictures over and over again, he read the story multiple times. He probably still knows it all word for word till this day. But what really captured his interest was that woman, how she looked in her own blood bath. Her guts hanging out, everywhere but inside her. Is this real? No it can't be right? No one would ever...

𓉸ྀི when he saw you, he saw that woman. You both look so similar. Maybe the eye color is a bit off, yours are a tiny bit darker but thats ok, you look just like her! Damn, even the hair!...he can't help but wonder if you would...no that's an unhealthy thought

𓉸ྀི he's 18 now, and for 5 years he was in the dark web looking for stories, pictures and videos like this to feed his constant hunger and need for more blood and gore. But he still knows, murder is wrong. But knowing is something else than doing. They both can go hand in hand, the only thing that's holding them both away from each other is the wall called self control.

𓉸ྀི He does have this wall, it just has multiple holes in it. Blake was no stranger to act on his impulsive thoughts. He cuts his arms sometimes when he wants to feel the pain or see the blood. He even tried the 'save way of cutting your wrist', the thrill of almost dying did send him over the edge....The research did help of course. He even tried choking himself, but that does not really do much for him unfortunately, there's nothing hot to it besides the bruises he left on his neck.

𓉸ྀི But right now the wall he trained to stand against the army of his running thoughts is about to crumble by just looking at you. You'd look so great in red, a deep dark red surrounding you...oozing out of y-no-! This is wrong-! He knows you're so so much more than a body, than a corpse. You have personality...damn you really look like you have a great personality.

𓉸ྀི...w-wait-you looked his way-! WHY ARE YOU SMILING AT HIM-! Was he looking at you this entire time?? Ugh, hes such a creep-! Yes, he knows he's one but he doesn't have to act like one to make it obvious- He's so weird, he doesn't deserve you, he would NEVER deserve you. The only thing that deserves him would be the maggots and the mould, eating his decomposed cadaver.

𓉸ྀི If it's not him, than it's definitely your smile that killed him right there and now, on spot. He's disgusting why are you looking like him. Why do you show interest. Why is he smiling back. And why does he really feel the need to hold you in his arms, and kiss you. A kiss that would probably be the beginning of cannibalism. Drag his mouth and theeth across your chest to taste your beating heart...if he thinks like this then living can be beautiful, and so are living things. I mean...you are most definitely beautiful. And you're alive.

𓉸ྀི But you'd be just as pretty dead, rotting and overcome with mould, having flys around you while your body drys out and sinks....but yeah you're maybe even a tiny bit more beautiful alive. (Much more but he can't say it just yet)

TAGLIST: @lucienbarkbark @hehothrowawayfae

#yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #oc x reader #oc #Blake x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #yandere x female reader

[princess-of-the-corner]

Great response, sorry XD and this line in particular jumped out at me for a different surprise reason:

She just doesn't understand why someone with a Perfect Life™ would change without going through some kind of suffering that forces introspection.

Because I am reminded of a fic that managed to speedily (Seemingly) weave in a Chloe redemption arc & Marinette friendship within the first like, week of the new school year in a totally believable way.

Long story short, Adrien fucking died during Stoneheart.

Specifically, he got crushed by a thrown car before he even got into his house. Gabriel went into a depression slump & Marinette blames herself.

Then she gets to class before anyone but Chloe whose not wearing make up, her hairs barely above a rats nest and she's wearing what is obviously a boys over shirt and quietly crying.

She's too nice to ignore that and then she finds out Chloe is crying about a boy "so lonely & so kind" he could evoke such grief and love from a girl Marinette previously thought incapable of those things.

Then Chloe completely breaks down in her arms & just... Does not bounce back to her usual energy after that.

Marinette, as well as a few others, continue to be gentle presences. To the point where Sabrina gives Marinette's picture to the door man so she can go up to Chloe's if she wants.

Then later, Chloe gets Akumatized into "Anti Hero" but she ignored Gabriel's orders for a week because her focus is on "saving everyone, no one else will lose anyone like I lost Adrien."

So yeah, that kind of event is one I can easily see Marinette perceiving as both revealing new depth to Chloe & that she could rationalize as inspiring change, thus inviting her understanding.

Also spoiler but Adrien's not for real dead, he got mixed with a butterfly, Plagg and Gabriel's wish to become perma Chat Noir.

Just thought that was interesting and a good contrast to show ways in which Marinette can be super compassionate and reach out. VS circumstances under which it would go against her every instinct to do so & both being totally valid reads on the character.

Semi-rip to Adrien but also like.

Yeah just. Showing how much Chloé can genuinely care for another person goes a long ass way toward the shattering of the illusion that she's a 2-dimensional bitch.

[feelinungry]

and i will always, always, be defending the "plot-holes" that are not actually plot-holes at all. i've seen people on facebook complain so many times about the ending of the game - about the siege of talmberg to be more exact.

"just attack it", "just take it down", "why doesn't divish just do it", "ohh his wife he can't even fuck! nobody gives a damn", "henry doesn't even really care for radzig at this point" etc.

and i have to go back to that one solitary thing this game literally cannot exist without: love. it's the main aspect, it's the pillars the story stands on, it's everything.

medieval movies and books like to picture the old times ala skyrim: "my son was very young when he died. but he did so while doing his duty. he fell for skyrim! he fell for the empire! i do not mourn for i am proud!"

"oh, i loved my father more than anything. but he is gone now. that is life."

it is. but. hear me out. people back then - were actually just like people now. we break down when we lose someone we adore, cherish, love, protect. no matter how stoic we may be, we don't take it lightly, do we?

so, if you think about it, is it a plot-hole, when divish refuses to attack his castle because

it's his home and he loves it

his wife is in there

his friend is also in there?

robard would not attack if it were divish in there. radzig would not attack if it were henry in there. hans would not attack if it were hanush in there. istvan would not attack if it were erik in there. captain bernard would not attack if it were hans in there.

it all comes back to love. and wanting people you care about safe.

martin running back to certain death because his wife is in the village when the cumans attack.

both parents worrying about nothing but their beloved son even while they are being brutally murdered.

everyone on talmberg willing to lock henry up just to keep him away from skalitz (for reasons yet unknown).

theresa making a last stand for someone just as lost as her.

the understanding he's met with when henry comes and admits his failure to radzig, the fact that he went against direct order. (nothing, absolutely nothing else but radzig being in debt to martin, or radzig being someone close to henry, could explain the understanding, the acceptance, and the outcome of the whole situation. how do you think henry - who is just a young man, not a hero, not a dragonborn, not a chosen one - would get away with all this?)

henry backed out of the night raid on talmberg because hans was wounded and wouldn't survive long enough for the mission to succeed.

hans (in one of the outcomes) carried him out on his back, saving his fat ass. no time for glory, no time for saving the hostages when it's suddenly your best friend who is on the ground and bleeding out. he might have succeeded with the mission. yet he didn't hesitate when suddenly it was him who was put in the shoes of those who just wanted to keep their loved ones safe. it was stephanie for divish (he approved the raid). it was radzig for henry (he was the one who went first and most willingly). and it was henry for hans (who immediately backed out on henry's behalf). all those actions were based on love.

would you attack talmberg, knowing there was someone you loved? someone you wanted to know better, someone you wanted to learn how to love, someone who could have been much closer if he only tried? someone you only just met?

the whole story starts with love, continues with love, ends with love. it is everywhere you look and you don't even have to romance anyone to see it, to feel it. it is in the npcs' lives, it's the motivation behind so many actions. it's in henry's decisions. in your decisions.

because, don't you just love this game?

#kcd #kcd talk #kcd brainrot i welcome you back #and fuck off i need to live and sleep #kingdom come deliverance #hans capon #henry of skalitz #radzig kobyla #divish of talmberg

[zukkaoru]

sorry i'm thinking abt megumi's incessant desire to be the first to die vs. the narrative keeping him alive despite and how the most tragic ending for him is not actually dying, but being left behind. for megumi, the worst fate is living a long life

#megumi growing up assuming he will be the first to die out of those he loves #bc gojo is the Strongest and tsumiki is a non-sorcerer so they should both be Safe while megumi is just. megumi #vs megumi at 15 having lost tsumiki gojo nobara nanami etc etc and knowing it's only a matter of time before he loses yuuji too #megumi not knowing how to be the survivor because he never thought he'd live long enough to have to say goodbye #also sometimes i think abt that post that was like... remember in thg how katniss' motivation for Everything is saving prim? #and then prim still died at the end because the world they lived in could not allow someone so good to live? it could not allow #katniss the One thing she wanted most #yeah so like. everything megumi is doing and has done has been for tsumiki. it's all been for her #but the world they live in is cruel and tsumiki is too good of a person #and when has megumi ever been granted anything he's wanted? why should the world allow him his one biggest desire of tsumiki's safety? #and what is megumi supposed to do when he outlives the one person who has been by his side - the one person he wanted most to save #how is he supposed to live a long life when everyone he cares about is gone? how is he supposed to care about new people? #what's that one quote that's like. a son or a husband can be replaced but who can grow me a new brother #no one can replace tsumiki. megumi cannot find a new sister #yes losing gojo and yuuji would be devastating. but at the end of the day megumi has known yuuji for only a few months #and gojo was already a replacement for his father #tsumiki has been with him longest and she's always been megumi's main motivation #she's the reason he didn't go to the zenin clan. she's the reason he was trained by gojo. she's the reason they're all in the culling games #trying to fix it from the inside and running on a time limit #and what happens if he CAN'T save her. what happens if. like katniss and prim. despite EVERYTHING. tsumiki still has to die #THIS IS ALL BECAUSE OF TSUMIKI #BECAUSE MEGUMI WANTS TO SAVE HER #DO YOU UNDERSTAND!!!!! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRAGEDY IN BEING ALIVE WHEN EVERYONE ELSE IS GONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #sorry i'm not normal about fictional sibling dynamics. btw if you even care #hello grace here #jjk spoilers #update i just realized it's not even 7am. as you can tell i'm having a great time today

[raayllum]

like there's something about how Callum is the one who helps teach Rayla what the right thing to do is (because his cycle speech inspires her: "You did") at least in her own mind, whereas Callum sees her as a source of inspiration ("You're right") and how Rayla maintains her faith in Callum to always do the right thing (S4 + "Humans were clever. Humans could do anything, they could be anything, they could take their own fates and change them") even when she's messed up, and how she continues not to like... rose-tinted glasses isn't the right word, but she truly deeply trusts Callum to 1) always do the right thing (even while in S5, particularly onwards of 5x08, Callum is probably going to start doubting whether there are scenarios where there is a 'right thing to do' because he just got presented with like 5 where there isn't) and 2) being absolutely willing to enable and forgive whatever 'not right things' he does while not fully addressing it, cause Rayla might disagree with you and/or turn turn against you if/when you do awful things (hi Runaan in S1, hi Callum in 2x07) but her bond of love for you really is unbreakable

#rayllum #every separation is a link #tdp rayla #characterization #tdp #mine #snake boi callum #adjacently #like soren knows claudia is evil / awful. and he will kill her if he has to #but he Loves her and will also save her life. and both those things are true #bc he's willing & able to sever family bonds and it's his saving grace tbh #and rayla is very much the same. and so is viren (and karim & janai tbh) #but like. callum & claudia & ezran (to a degree) are not and it's so good. IT'S SO GOOD #mmm #rayla: gasp no one should ever commit that crime #'it was callum' #rayla: omg is he okay!! #lIKE GIRL

[reuptakeinhibitor]

i love stobin working retail jobs and sharing a resume so much but consider this. steve follows robin to bloomington, indianapolis, west lafayette, wherever she decides to go and they get a little apartment. maybe they decide to go out of state but i think they stay in the midwest. then st takes a page from buffy and steve works construction while robin goes to school.

#i think this would play nicely into him believing he's not smart #and robin's like “what? you built my desk all by yourself. i don't know anyone else who'd be able to do that.” #“and you fixed mrs. robinson's fence just last week! that little dog of hers was always getting out and digging holes in her rose garden.” #and she reassures him that all those things require skill and important and HE'S important #and he believes her a little more every time he hears her say it :) #the day she learns about gardner's theory of multiple intelligences she can barely contain herself #she's so excited to tell steve she doesn't even get the car door closed before she's blurting it out #like “GUESS WHAT 😳” #and maybe he gets a little misty but he saves the tears for later when he can really think about how much he's loved and how they're both o #and living the life they both want because they built it together!!!! #anyway . . . #i swear this was just supposed to be a post about steve being hot #but that kinda got away from me #i could go on and on about them #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #god help me i'm scared to have my post In The Tags but i must maintain tag consistency for my blog #also i remember very little about buffy #this is a stranger things post #*and ARE important #*they're both OK #i haaaate typos in tags but i'm not writing all that again

[crown-ov-horns]

I was looking through my notes for Good Omens fanfiction, and realized almost every damn story includes Crowley having a baby.

There's the one where Heaven and Hell decide to use an angel baby carried by a demon as a diplomatic tool, leading into Crowley being protected by Michael, and them falling in love.

There's the one where she leaves her baby with Anathema and disappears, which triggers all the following events - from the search, to Aziraphale's trial, and everything else.

There's the one where she has to supply the new Antichrist, which leads to her and Lucifer falling in love, and her being crowned the Queen of Hell. (Well, this one is really two stories set in different timelines, in the second one the "baby" is like 27)

In the one inspired by a dream, she does have a baby eventually, but that's far from the worst thing that happens to her. Gabriel's treatment of her after is... How the Hell will I write this damn thing if I can't even think about it.

There's no baby in the one where she gets tortured with diluted holy water.

I see I have no storyline with male Crowley just yet... Fine, that's not true. I do have some thoughts for Crowley x Fem!Lucifer... It could include a new Antichrist, too. And, Crowley wouldn't be the pregnant one for once. But, dealing with pregnant Lucifer would probably be even scarier.

#diary pages #writing journal #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #good omens fanfiction #good omens fandom #crowley #good omens crowley #lady crowley #fem!crowley #writers on tumblr #writer life #ffs what's with me and torturing miss/mr. snake #she's either pregnant or she's in some horrible situation or actually it's both #yes i feel damn guilty for doing that but i can't help it #in first two bullet points the dad is aziraphale but he screws up (without even knowing it) so michael steps in... #in the first one and not immediately as a love interest at first just as a protector #don't worry she's in on using the kid for politics and crowley know's there's drama #the second i'd rather not spoil because of the detective/investigation plot #hey but she chose michael herself she was supposed to be with hastur #in the antichrist one all is obvious and honestly it's one of those “good for her” stories for crowley #but in the time jump she is kind of riddled with worry for maxine fearing she'll burn out and so on #grr the dream storyline... the dad is gabriel and don't worry in the end she ditches him i can spoil that this story is so heavy #this story is the ugly crowing jewel of my frustration with crowley saving aziraphale over and over again #what she does to protect him here almost ends up killing her or breaking her it's... seriously no idea how i'll write it #i'm also worried people will think i'm romanticising it when it's supposed to leave the reader sickened like i am #no comment on the holy water thing rn it's a simple hurtfic that develops into a survivor - the previous one is survivor in the end too #i haven't given too much thought for the crowley/f!lucifer but it should be good #fr hell would be so frustrated she chose this moron as her king consort but could do nothing about it #her pregnant would be SCARY - she's terrifying already... well terrifying and to die for

[irregularbillcipher]

someday i'm gonna write something about how futurama is such a rich series from a "literally all three protagonists are disabled in some way and parts of this show are such a disability power fantasy" perspective

#like fry is a canonically audhd character played by an audhd actor who has synthesesia and dexterity issues #and has survived five heart attacks #and whose 'brain thing' (aka his neurodivergency) is the literal key to saving the world on multiple occasions #like god. the most important person in the universe is and always ill be this disabled guy with a good heart #(morally i mean. like i said five heart attacks) #and then leela is a physically disabled woman who was been defined her whole life by her facial defect #who learns that her whole family is actually disabled (mutated) and starts fighting like HELL for them #and whose life was turned upside down because her society was treating her and those with her birth defects like scum #to the point her parents had to give her up and try to pass her off as an alien instead of a disabled human just to make sure she had right #AND she has some severe anger issues and a whole boatload of mental illnesses #and some incredibly clear trauma from the ableism she's faced #but she's still incredibly loved and desired and competent! #and then there's bender who has a whole section of his wiki dedicated to the bugs and glitches he has #who was born without a backup drive which to robots is absolutely a disability #who has a faulty inhibition chip #also he unusual empathy emotions and thought processes from both a human and robot perspective #like he doesn't experience empathy in the same way humans do but he also has free will unlike literally every other robot #and has moments where he's clearly feeling things in a way a lot of other robots in the series don't #(sometimes played for laughs like the 'as a robot i don't have emotions and that makes me very sad' line) #but also often taken seriously #not to mention the whole point of lethal inspection where bender finds out he has a factory defect #and wants to find and yell at the guy who approved him even though he was mortal-- a defect by robot standards

[kellystar321]

.

#periodical life updates #finished all my criminology homework! now i got sunday off to chill and maybe draw and also me and my sibs might go to chinatown? but idk #because dad's bbq-ing which might change some plans. anyway! eating dinner now :> its not my favorite but it is okay <3 #high priority art to-dos: commission | daily eca (for tomorrow and the project) | art for *** and ******* | annual birthday redraw #general arts: mrd thing for monday | solepsi art | things for the ace iterations | the cases ref #self indulgence: drawtectives (i wanna draw more eugenes) | agent | fun ace things #my queue is winding down so that might go quiet in a bit <3 there's about a dozen things left <3 we'll see i suppose <3 #project sekai updates: cannot believe i have to wait 6 more events until the next wxs event i just want a cool emu :'0 #my strongest team is all four stars except for a three star emu; i just want a 4 star for her <3 also!! nicori smile survey for that event! #and also its probably the one where tsukasa makes a child cry by yelling about how hes gonna be a cool star hgkjh #but theres been so many events that just! arent wxs! it's been 13 events since the last one to the next one we get u-u <33 i miss them;;; #but we get some mmj ones so at least theres that <3 mmj's my assigned group and wxs's my favorite group so i have an attachment to both <3 #but yeah im gonna save up gems for a cool emu card <3 theres the valentines day one too? AND ALSO. TSUKASA AS A KNIGHT? #FOR THE WHITE DAY EVENT!! HE LOOKS AESTHETIC AS HEL I LOVE KNIGHTS!!! <3 so maybe i'll try for those!! #im also writing a drawtectives fic and recently i drew some aces from one of the old aus <3 i miss him i love my little guy <33 #im downloading all my old twitter archives. i have a lot of memories there i need to keep or else i'll be so sad <3 trying my best <33 #i have school on monday as usual <3 can you believe my birthdays coming up this month? it feels like ive been 21 forever hgjkh <3 #i think thats all the updates for now; im sleepy <33 goodnight. thank you for reading; ily <33

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #thg finnick #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #sam claflin #hunger games #odesta

[love-toxin]

MR O’HARA HAS ME ACTING FERAL BOTH OF MY LIPS HAS BEEN DROOLING SINCE I WATCHED ATSV OPENING NIGHT… I NEED HIM TO DESTROY ME

RIGHT??? LIKE--LIKE--

(cws: across the spiderverse spoilers, gn pronouns, smut, rough sex, mating press, size kink, biting/venom, belly bulges, mindbreak(?), breeding mention, a bit of forbidden love trope)

Like....imagine, if you will, becoming an assistant for the Spider-society after your dimension is destroyed. It's mostly because Miguel took pity on you since you're not a spider-person, you had nothing to do with the unravelling of your world, and/or you were meant to gain your spider-powers but an anomaly in your dimension prevented it. Since there's no place for you in another multiverse, he keeps you on his team both to give you asylum and to keep an eye on you just in case you prove to be an anomaly yourself....but it becomes pretty clear pretty early on that you're not really a threat. Not for violence, at least.

You're just a sweet thing that gets doted on by nearly everyone in the society--you're either a refreshing break from the endless spiderman variants running around or you remind the spiders of their Mary Janes, their Gwen Stacies, their Gayatri Singhs, and being a civilian to boot makes you the perfect candidate to have your things carried for you and be given web-slinging rides around the facility even though you're supposed to be the assistant here.

But even so, even though you're treated so lightly, Miguel really likes you and even--gasp--enjoys your company. It can be hard to tell with him, but the most perceptive of the spiders notice that Miguel keeps you in his good graces always. When he's stressed or in a bad mood, he collects himself before he speaks to you. He never snaps at you, and on the very rare times you get caught in his crosshairs, he apologizes quietly and gently and reiterates that whatever it was about, it wasn't your fault. He gives you so much wiggle room for error to the point that his companions sometimes complain outright that he's such a hardass, but he never berates you when you make a mistake, and without fail Miguel will come up with some reason for it; "That's because they don't screw up as often as you do" or "At least I can trust them to do their job", or he'll just tell whoever's bitching to leave you out of it and he'll dismiss you to discuss the matter privately.

Surprisingly, those incidents don't bother him nearly as much as when the inner circle starts getting closer to you. He feels this deep need to pull you away when Gwen offers to take you on a trip through the dimensions (although that's just plain dangerous), but it also bubbles up when Hobie hangs around and encourages you to join his band, and when Jess asks you questions about your life and is eager to hear about any potential romances you might be getting yourself into--there's a lot of single spider-people out there, and you're not tied to any dimension, so you've got plenty of options!

God, Miguel hates when Jess brings that up. You don't need to go anywhere, your place is here. You can stay here safely, which is something he can't promise in any of those other dimensions the spiders come from. But that's not the real reason, he realizes that when he feels that tingle at the sight of you holding Mayday and playing with her, having been given the task of impromptu babysitter for Peter when he has to rush off and do damage control somewhere.

It's you. He likes having you around, and it's not about letting you venture off into other dimensions, he just doesn't want you to leave him. That's why he loves it when you reply to those people, when you tell them "Oh, but I couldn't leave Mr. O'Hara! He'd lose his head without me." or "I really like this job, actually. I wanna keep working under Mr. Miguel." and especially "Miguel saved my life, I owe him all I can give. I could never leave him all alone." because it just reaffirms that desire for him to keep you as close to his side as possible. When he replays those videos of himself and his daughter, the pain is dulled for a while as he sees your eyes in hers, and envisions a future where you create a new family with him--one that he can properly protect this time.

It's that fantasy that emboldens him to lay hands on you, your body so puny and small in comparison to his massive frame, so fragile as he holds your hips in both hands and waits for you to tell him this isn't really what you want. He's waiting for it, anticipating it, even reminding you that you have the option when you look up at him shell-shocked. He promises that your answer won't affect your position here. It falls on deaf ears, however, because you desperately want to kiss him but you just don't think you can reach.

It's so adorable to see you try. Up on your tiptoes, clutching at his suit, straining to try and reach him where he's at--all it takes is an arm around your waist and he's got you off your feet and in the air, perfectly situated to press your pretty mouth to his own and awaken his instincts that have laid dormant all these long years. The stress of keeping each and every dimension following its intended canon has nearly broken him, it might have done so already if not for your unexpected appearance in his life. It's riled him up so much he doesn't think twice about taking you back to his place, nor gives him second thoughts when you help him peel that tight suit off and he tears through your clothes just as easily--maybe it really doesn't matter. His world is gone and so is yours, but you're both still here and you're begging him for another kiss, for more attention. How sweet could you possibly be? Pleading for something you'll always have and not realizing it's the least you deserve, perfect as you are?

Miguel just can't help himself anymore, he's too far gone and you’re too angelic for him to let down when you want him so badly. You don't seem to mind the rough treatment as he pushes you down either, no, you thrive on his aggressiveness and even encourage it to come out as he clambers over you. That pretty smile and those giggles as he shoves your thighs apart and spits, his venom sending electrifying tingles up and down your spine as he fingers the makeshift lube inside you. He's so bulky you can't even get your legs all the way around him when he lowers himself, forced to let your heels scrabble down his lower back as you struggle to find some kind of purchase on him--to just grab something and let it keep you steady as he slides in and rocks you into oblivion. The toxins loosen you up too, thank god, or else you'd be seriously struggling to take him in when he's practically twice your size. And he doesn't want to force it in, he just wants to ease you into the process before he allows himself to batter your poor body with thrusts that shake the whole bed--it's a little bit of payback for flaunting your pretty self around his office without ever telling him how you actually feel about him. Now you know exactly what you've been missing.

Drooling, hair sticking to your skin, sweat dripping down your chest, body gripping him like a vice yet endlessly slick....you're a total mess and he couldn't be more satisfied. You don't even try to keep yourself together, but that's all that he wants--he wants you to lose yourself in the way he makes you feel so you won't ever want to leave. The taboo is there; you're not from his dimension, he shouldn't be planning any kind of future with someone who doesn't belong in his world. But it makes it all more thrilling in the moment even if he can reason his way around it, it makes his every thrust gain power until he's breaking your willpower down enough to have your eyes rolling back in your head, hips jumping weakly as you try to participate. You don't even know how good you make him feel without lifting a finger.

Gliding through you as if you couldn't be more willing to take him, his position is clear just from a glance down at your stomach--the bulge is obvious, and as sickening as it could be your whines as you brush your fingertips over it sing his praises without a coherent word. You're so wet and stupid and needy on his cock, clearly he should've done this a long time ago when you were so much worse at hiding your pining looks at him from across the room. If he knew it would culminate into this, he would've saved the assistant crap and turned you into his stress relief toy that very first day. If he had, you might've already had a family by now....knowing him, at least.

It's still just as sweet to lick your tears up now, though. You're already drunk on his cock, it doesn't make much more difference for him to sink his fangs into your throat and pump you full of more venom straight from the source, the shock sending you straight into orgasm and dragging it out for so long he fears you might just pass out from the pleasure. It's like he's juicing up a plump little fruit until it's so ripe it could burst. And as if your own ecstasy wasn't enough, you really lose it when Miguel has you pinned and flooding that sore, fluttering little hole with so much seed it burns. Jets of pearly-white cum squirting down your thighs, painting you like a canvas without him even pulling out, because you just can't take him at his peak and you know it. You just have to whine and squirm beneath him as he fills you up, his hot breath puffing over your cheeks as he keeps you barely still enough not to wiggle away. With a shift of your hips you nearly slip off right up to the tip, his cum sloshing about and making everything too slick--but a hand slides up your neck and grips the crown of your head, his biceps flexing as he slowly pushes you back down with vermillion eyes piercing through your heated flesh. Lower, deeper, until he's seated himself up in your guts again and holds you there to milk those last few shots out of him, keep him nice and warm with those precious walls uncontrollably spasming around him. Doesn't stop you from pulling his head down closer, though, and whispering your praises while begging in whimpers in equal measure, urging him not to stop now. You're not ready to let him go.

How convenient is that? Miguel won't ever let you go, and he's known that deep in his chest since the moment you arrived--it couldn't make him any more satisfied to know that you feel the exact same way.

#don't look at me i know im 100% off the shits #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x reader #spicy writing #ellie writes #anons

[arminsumi]

Hi! I hope ur having a good time. Sorry, for the phrasing, English is not my first language hehe (｡>\\<) btw i really like ur writing! u keep them in character and also ur amazing at writing fluff ♡(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ can I please ask for a gojo fluff where he realizes reader always wanted to have a small boyfriend to like call him baby boy to sit on her lap and spoil him and stuff and then gojo goes apeshit like trying to sit on her with his long ass limbs trying to be a babyboy idk hehehe anyways tysm

"I'm your baby boy, right?"

GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Satoru thinks he's smaller than he actually is, and tries curl up on you like a cat.

Note : hey hey! srry i took so long to write this omggg it got lost in my drafts. but!! it's such a sweet idea thank u for sending it in!! big beefy satoru trying to make himself ur small boy is a thought that gave me life 💗😖 and thank u so much for ur kind words it means a lot!!

Satoru tries to curl up on you as if he's a little cat.

But he's not.

Ah, but he really thinks he is sometimes.

And he wants to be a little cat to you, not a big burly man or a strong intimidating menace but just a small, soft, delicate thing to be held and touched and pampered with love and care.

It makes you laugh, as you listen to him grunting and struggling to position himself on your lap and get those long limbs in order — it's one of the funniest sights; a big boy trying to box himself up like he's not 6'3 with broad-shoulders 'n thick arms 'n long spider-like legs.

"Do you think you're a cat or something?"

"Yes." he grins dumbly, balancing precariously on you as you sit. Then he sees your smile and slips off. "—oopsfuck!" he falls, gets up, acts it off, then tries again.

In bed, he wiggles down the sheets so his head is level with your chest. He wraps his arms around your middle, arches his back, and encases you between his legs. He clings to your body on his side like that, and snuggles his cheek on your chest as if it's his rightful pillow, the place where he belongs.

"Play with my hair, please?" he mumbles with pouty lips.

He smiles to himself when you fulfil his request.

Feeling both your warmth and your fingers stroking lovingly through his hair makes him drowsy. And when he's drowsy, he mumbles mental notes like "we need to buy orange juice tomorrow..." as he falls asleep.

His grip slackens as he falls asleep. In the middle of the night, he'll wake up and look at you with that puffy pouty sleepy face of his and stare for a moment, appreciating you, before tightening his embrace on your body and returning to slumber.

When he wakes up the next morning with you, he makes the same request; "Play with my hair." but with a raspy voice.

While you do so, he groaningly complains about having had nightmares all night.

"I keep dreamin' about saving the world 'n failing... but it's fine. I wake up and you're right here. So nothin' to worry about. Doesn't matter if I fail if I still have you."

He's so happy to be getting spoiled and pampered by you while curling his body up as small as possible. Happy that he has someone he doesn't have to be big and strong around. Someone who he can be a baby boy around.

Sometimes he's resting on your chest in the mornings in silence, when suddenly he rears his head up and asks "I'm your baby boy, right? Say it, please."

"Mhm. You're my baby boy, Satoru. Don't worry."

"Mm yay." he smiles to himself and resumes resting on you, his white hair tickling under your chin. "Say it again, please. Just keep saying it."

So you do, you say it repeatedly and it sounds like a soft lullaby to him. He falls back asleep with his ear pressed to your heartbeat, and feels a safe warmness in his chest.

"Oh." he startles out of his shallow sleep, "We need to buy orange juice, don't we?"

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo x reader #x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo saturo #gojo x you #satoru #satoru x reader #satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader

[fellthemarvelous]

Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?

Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.

Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.

He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.

Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.

He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.

He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.

And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.

Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.

Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.

Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.

Instead he watches.

He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.

He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.

He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.

The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.

Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.

That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.

Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.

It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.

As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.

Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.

He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.

It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.

Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.

And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.

To shades of grey.

#good omens #good omens meta #the resurrectionists #aziraphale #crowley #elspeth and wee morag #heaven and hell #shades of grey

[aphroditesmoon]

Hiiii! Love your clarisse oneshots ^^. Could you possibly do one where Fem!reader is the daughter of Hades and has a hellhound as a pet that absolutely adores clarisse? Reader also has a similar personality to clarisse, loves to fight and has a big pride but only lets her guard down around Clarisse.(also possibly has her own electric weapon of your choice)Thank you!!

creatures of the night

clarisse la rue x fem!hades'cabin!reader

warnings: none

a/n: sorry this is so short, hope u like it<3

wc; 1.1k

You would never consider your relationship with your father as better than anyone else's relationship with their own parent in camp.

But when you had been claimed by Hades as well as being gifted a long black javelin with gold wrapped around the sharp edge on the same night you arrived at camp Half Blood, it seemed well established to everyone else and including yourself, that your father acknowledges your existence proudly.

Being one of the people in the small list of forbidden children, had created a fearsome reputation around your presence, and honestly speaking, you enjoy the privileges that come with it.

Although it was hard making friends considering your less friendly personality, some campers stuck by your side anyways. Those who bore you enormous respects and had been intrigued by your mysterious air instead of intimidated.

One of them being the infamous child of Ares, Clarisse La Rue.

Beautiful, strong and hot headed, Clarisse La Rue.

The two of you are often compared as the two sides of the same coin. Your personalities differ from eachother in many ways, but when it came to your goals and aims, you both are usually on the same team.

It's safe to say that you are less hostile than Clarisse. You prefer to keep to yourself whilst she prefered to assert dominance onto the other campers. And yet you are the more feared than her.

Clarisse is commonly brutal and unrelenting, but you usually saved up the worst of your tricks for when necessity calls for it. For now, intimidation worked well enough.

What's funny enough, is how Clarisse herself had a certain trepidation when she first befriended you. She learned soon that you were just another demigod girl just like she was, glory aside.

One of the instances where she felt that she had truly seen you as you are, all the facade dropped down, was when you first introduced her to your hound, Cerberus.

Your father had gifted him to you for your 15th birthday. It was one of yoir proudest moments in life. Demigods are almost never cared for that much by their parents, and so to have your coming of age be recognised by your father was a huge thing.

"Is that not the same name as Hades' own three headed hound?" She asked, staring at it for afar from the corner of your bed.

"I know, that's why I named him that." You explained to her as you're sat criss-crossed on the floor, scratching the beasts' chin.

Cerberus, once he deemed Clarisse as not a threat, rolled down on the ground on his stomach.

"Look at him, such a good boy." You were distracted by your new pet all day, ignoring your poor girlfriend who had come over to your cabin to spend time with you. "He's almost as tall as you." Clarisse spoke sarcastically, picking you on your height.

"That's not a fair observation. Most things are almost as tall as me." You responded, still not looking up.

"Are you just gonna keep standing there staring at me?" You asked her finally, realising just how weird the distance between you two were.

Clarisse was hesitant, frowning at your pet like he was some sort of threat. "I...think I'm good here." She muttered loud enough for your ears. "Oh, come on."

Clarisse shook her head as you complained about her irrationality. "Look at him, he's friendly." And he was, Cerberus had warmed up to you quickly and have not shown a single tendency for violence against your girlfriend.

"Come and say hello to him, Clarisse." You called out to her again.

You hear her sigh from the other side of the room. After a few more minutes pass, her footsteps grow louder as she moves nearer to you.

Clarisse squats down to meet Cerberus and flinched as he lifts his head up to sniff her. You reached for her hand, trying to get him to smell it. She pulls her hand back at first, but after a few more pulls, Clarisse relents and lets the hound give her knuckles a lick. "That tickles." She mumbled under her breath.

"He likes you, see." She gives a resigned look, like she's just going along with what you're saying. "No, I'm serious, look at how nice he's acting." You nudged your head towards Cerberus' head, encouraging her to give him a pet

Clarisse braves herself to give him a few strokes on his ears and found that he particularly likes that notion. "I guess he's not that bad." She admitted at last, pulling out a smile from you. "I told you."

"So what is he then? Some sort of guard dog?" She inquires. The gods would gift their children with tools that can be used, never something useless, like a domesticated pet. And from the looks of it, Cerberus is definitely not meant to be a some cute little friend.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

"It's not like my dad does a lot of talking to me, but he gave me something from the underworld, something that's set as a reminder of him and his place above. I'd like to view it as some sort of stepping stone. Like I'm one step closer to him because of Cerberus."

It's not surprising that your end goal is to follow on your father's footsteps, no one really knows what the real secret to make their godly parent to care about them is.

It is often assumed that glory was the key, and yet, the best fighters in camp a

re usually the ones who resent their parents the most. You often prayed and hoped that you wouldn't ever have to cross that threshold.

"I'm sure he sees it that way too." Clarisse offered kindly. She knew all too well how much it meant to be noticed by their absent fathers, even if so slightly.

She slso knew deep down that even if your father refused to notice the lengths you would be willing to go for him, she did. And she would break the world in two for you if your father wouldn't. And you would do the same for her.

Clarisse leans her back against the lower frame of the bed, a small smile on her face as she watches you scratch the hound's chin whilst kissing the spot in between his eyes.

It is truly rare to catch sight of either daughters of Ares or Hades' being as gentle and playful as this, and Clarisse is grateful that these kind of intimacies are reserved for small private moments.

That same night, as she sleeps with her arms around your waist, Cerberus laying down by the foot of the bed, Clarisse realises that she would do anything for the bond between the two of you to prevail.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #dior goodjohn

[romantichomicide95]

LEVI ACKERMAN ;

summary: injured reader, levi thinks back to her confessing her love. levi being levi. angst, might do a part II if people tell me to.

tagging: @i-literally-cant-with-this because you asked bbygirl.

“why can’t we have both?” your words play over and over in levi’s mind. he’s been pacing outside your door for what feels like hours but realistically has probably been only 20 minutes. how could you be so foolish? he thinks. you and your reckless behavior, always trying to barge into danger to save somebody else.

but than again, that was why he respected you so much. levi couldn’t deny it, he had always admired you for it. it was one of the things that had drawn him to you. you were reckless, yes. you were careless, and you were always risking your own life to save someone else. but it was also what made you so brave, so strong, so resilient and so god damn dedicated.

it was also the reason he couldn’t seem to get you out of his head. it was annoying really, like a tiny little bug ringing in his ear that no matter how much he tried he couldn’t seem to squash. it didn’t help that you were so god damn easy on the eyes, he’d even catch his gaze lingering on you for just a half a second more than needed. and that irritated him, it irritated him how much he let you crawl under his skin, and into his heart so guarded from all the loss he’d had in his lifetime.

but that didn’t matter. he had a mission and he wasn’t going to let some tiny little feeling get in the way. that’s why he’d rejected you, rejected the one thing he felt was a constant in this shitty war against the titans. and now as he paces outside your door he can’t help but let those words ring back through his head. “why can’t we have both?”

——

“what did you say?” levi says, looking up at you. you and levi were in his office doing paperwork, it had become a habit. at first it was just because you were faster than anyone else and he needed the help; but over time he came to look forward to seeing you sitting there across his desk. the silent rustling of papers, the warm glow of candlelight, the way your forehead crinkled when you were deep in focus, it was something he found himself looking forward to.

“i said, i love you," you repeat softly, your voice trembling slightly as you meet levi’s intense gaze. "we have something here, don't we?" your heartbeat picks up as you wait for his response, hammering against your chest.

levi takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. he looks down at the papers scattered across his desk before finally meeting your eyes once more.

your heart sinks, and before he can respond you speak again. "i mean, you care about me right? i can feel it…i don’t want to pretend anymore.” you murmur. it was like this unspoken thing between you, he never really let anyone in, never let anyone close enough. but with you, he had. he’d let you crack away at his walls until you were the one person he actually wanted to be around. the person he’d gone out of his way countless times to keep in his life.

“i tolerate you, yes. but it doesn’t matter how i feel.” levi says after an uncomfortably long silence. “i don’t have time for romance. i am devoted to protecting humanity, we’re at war.”

“i know that levi, but…” you pause, trying to find the right words. “why can’t we have both?” you meet his eyes, an almost pleading look in your own. “romance and our devotion to protecting humanity.”

there's something about the way you look at him, the way you say his name, that makes him question everything he thought he knew about himself. but he has to shut you down, he knows he is being harsh, but he needs to focus on the mission, focus on the greater good. he can’t let himself be selfish, he doesn’t have it in him.

"we can't have both, no matter how we feel," levi replies firmly, trying to sound more confident than he feels. "our lives are too dangerous, too unpredictable. we can't risk attachment, they only slow us down in the end. i’m sorry.”

——

“she’s still not awake” hange’s words snap levi out of his thoughts. “she’s still breathing, but she got pretty roughed up.”

“oh, it’s good she’s still breathing than.” levi says, his voice as flat as ever, not betraying his inner worry. but hange knows better than that, knows that little crinkle in his brow is an indication of his true inner thoughts.

“i have to go check on something with erwin, i’ll leave you to it.” hange places a hand on levi’s shoulder for a fraction of a second before she disappears down the hall.

he slowly opens the door, taking a deep breath as his eyes are drawn to your still form. his eyes scroll over the bruises marring your pretty face, and without even realizing it his heart clenches in his chest.

he takes in every little detail of your face. he can remember your eyes, so kind and beautiful; the way they lit up every time you laughed at his ridiculous sense of humor. he can remember the way you scrunch up your nose when you think he’s said something crude. and as he does so memories of your time together start to flood back. how kind and patient you are, how fiercely loyal and protective. how you never judge him for his demeanor, and how in that stupid little confession, you love him despite it.

as he sits next to your bed, he can't shake the memory of your words echoing in his mind - "why can't we have both?"

“you’re an idiot you know?” he says softly, unaware of the fact he’s speaking his thoughts aloud. “or maybe i’m the idiot.” he admits. “i’m not the greatest at all this emotional shit. but maybe i was wrong,” he finally admits and he reaches out tentatively, brushing a bloody lock of hair away from your face. his fingers linger for a moment longer than necessary before retracting them away.

“maybe we can have both.” he takes a deep breath “i can’t promise anything, but hell, we can try.” and for the first time in forever, levi feels something other than duty and responsibility weighing on his heart - and it scares him more than any titan ever could.

“you just have to wake up y/n…please.”

#levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi x reader #captain levi #levi aot #aot #snk #snk levi #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi x fem!reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n