#completely ignoring canon this totally happened

[streets-in-paradise]

Andy celebrating Junior's birthday while living in the middle of the woods

The sun had been up for a while now, maybe an hour. Andy was never sure about times anymore. All he knew was that he had a red velvet  cupcake in hand, with a candle sticking out from the top, and a gift in the pocket of his flannel. 

All that mattered was that today was September 26th.

Junior’s fifteenth birthday. 

Now, Andy knew he couldn’t do much to celebrate his kid’s birthday. They were living in the middle of the woods and he only went on supply runs once a week. No matter how hard he tried to persuade Junior to go back to “civilization”, he refused. So they both stayed still, feeling content in only each other’s company. 

But just because he couldn’t go all out for Junior’s birthday, doesn’t mean he still wasn’t going to make it special for him. 

Andy quietly went up to Junior’s room, gently knocking on the door with his free hand. “Jun? You awake?” He asked and the only response he got was a groan, signaling that Andy was the one to wake him up. But he still opened the door, entering with a big smile. 

“Happy birthday to you…” He began singing, resulting in Junior groaning louder. 

“Oh my gods…” 

“Happy birthday to you…” Junior put his pillow over his head but when Andy got closer, he snatched the pillow away and tossed it to the side, “Happy birthday, dear Junbug…” 

“That’s not my nam—”

“Happy birthday to you!” Andy sang the last part a little louder and sat down at the edge of Junior’s cot, pulling his lighter out of one of his pockets and lighting the candle on top of the cupcake. 

Junior stared up at him, his hair a wild mess from sleep and eyes tired but an eyebrow raised in annoyance. “It’s so early, Andy, what the hell…?” 

“It’s your birthday, Junior. You can wake up early on one day, you sleep in all the time.” 

“Yeah, it’s my birthday, I’m not supposed to wake up early on my birthday. And you wake me up early too when we go hunt.” The birthday boy whined, dropping his head back down to where his pillow used to be. 

“You enjoy hunting, so don’t give me that.” Andy chuckled before gently shaking Junior’s shoulders. “C’mon, Junbug. You gotta make a wish.” 

Junior’s eyebrow raised higher. “I’m fourteen, Andy, not four. I don’t need to make a wish.” 

“Fifteen,” The man corrected, “you’re fifteen today, Junior.” 

“Whatever…” Junior rolled his eyes before rolling over onto his back and slowly sitting up, “I’m still one year closer to reaching Death’s inevitable cold, clammy hands.”

“Jesus, kid…” Andy wanted to retort that he wasn’t this morbid at fifteen but even he knew that was a lie, “just…just blow out the candle. Come on, do this for your old man.” 

This got a giggle out of Junior for Andy “accepting” that he was old, closing his eyes for a few seconds and then blowing out the candle. 

Andy pulled out the candle and then handed the cupcake to the kid. “Here, breakfast.”

Junior’s eyes widened. “Sugar for breakfast?” His voice was small when he asked this and it made the grown man’s heart clench. 

Now, Andy didn’t condone murder…but if Logan Wheeler ever came back to life, he would treat him the same way he treated that decapitated Chucky head that he kept for four years, but keep Logan alive even longer. 

“Yes, kid. It’s your birthday, you can have a cupcake for breakfast. I’ll even make you pancakes too if you’re still hungry.” Andy said with a soft smile, pushing down his poisonous thoughts about Logan, and ruffles Junior’s hair. 

The teenager rolled his eyes again and lightheartedly smacked Andy’s hand away before taking the cupcake from him and taking a bite, humming in delight. “Thank you, Andy.” He said with a small smile, now not seeming to mind being woken up this early. 

“Well, don’t thank me just yet…” Andy started before pulling out Junior’s present from his pocket and handing it to him. 

Junior’s eyes lit up from realization and he quickly grabbed it while holding onto the cupcake with his other hand. “Is this…?” 

“Your very own switchblade!” Andy proudly announced and Junior began grinning. “You always talked about how cool switchblades were so I figured that’d be a nice gift. But I still want you to be careful with it, okay?” 

“Yeah, I will.” Junior giggled as he switched it open, his eyes lighting up more at the sight of the blade to the point where it was almost concerning to Andy. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” 

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” He ruffled Junior’s hair again but this time, the teenager let him. “Oh! I almost forgot…there’s still two Chuckys alive for you to play with.” 

“Can I use the blowtorch?” Junior asked, a maniacal look in his eyes. 

Maybe Andy shouldn’t have introduced the concept of fire being a main torture method for Chucky, the kid was getting far too fascinated with fire. 

He accidentally created a pyromaniac. 

“…okay, but you need to be—”

“—be careful, I know,” Junior interrupted with a little smirk, “Gods, you’re such a mother hen!” 

“I am not!” Andy denied but even he knew that it was getting a lot harder to deny that, so he decided to change the subject. “Just finish up the first part of your breakfast and we can keep celebrating, alright?” 

Junior giggled but nodded, taking another bite out of his cupcake and then resting his cheek against the man’s shoulder. “Thanks, Andy…” 

Andy smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of Junior’s head. “No problem…happy birthday, Junbug.” 

OH MY GOD THIS IS SO INCREDIBLY SWEET 💕💕💕💕

This becomes even more significant considering Andy hates birthdays. Like, he may hate his but he tried his best to give the boy a good one.

I love how cute the use of the nickname Junbug sounds, its adorable. The father and son energy this has despite neither of the characters acknowledges it's perfect.

They are so fucked up yet so adorable, little murderous thing and the dad he found in the wild having fun slaughtering all those dolls hehe

#asks #messages #submitted fic #andy barclay #junior wheeler #AU #andy celebrating junior's birthday #this fic is a caress to my soul #completely ignoring canon this totally happened #andy showing junior all the care his father never gave him #in the most misserable of contexts #totally hits my sentimental fiber #this kid is happier as a hermit in the woods that he ever was in his wealthy home

[oh-meow-swirls]

i think this was funnier in my head.

#puppy draws #yo-kai watch #katie forester #jibanyan #whisper #whisper ykw #usapyon #hailey anne thomas #as a diagnosed autistic person i can confirm that the autism evaluation results #just being a picture of the autism creature with text saying you have the tism is accurate #i don't even remember how this idea came to me i think i was just overly tired this morning and then this happened #also ignore the fact that i refuse to accept nate as being canon protagonist katie is like way better sorry besties <3 #that's like 80% a joke. every main yo-kai watch character is my blorbo and nate is included in that #i just also prefer katie. playing 3 and rewatching the anime + reading the manga did endear me to nate more though #i like how he's average but also totally bisexual. no i will not elaborate #why do my tags always get so derailed. uhhhh back to autism. hailey is so fucking autistic ngl #there's like at least five different instances in 3 of her just completely failing to read the room #she's totally hyperfixated on sailor cuties and next harmeowny #she has adhd vibes too i think but. the tism is very strong #i can't decide my favorite part of this between the “yippee!! you have the tism” image and jibanyan asking what autism is #he doesn't know because he has autism by default through being a cat he didn't need a diagnosis #i feel like all of them are autistic tbh but that's probably just me projecting. i totally gave katie autism in the rewrite though #i wasn't even trying to i just don't know what neurotypicals are like because i got that autistic rizz. and adhd rizz. mostly the adhd #i am definitely also autistic but i think my adhd effects me a lot more in day-to-day life #since i usually just interact with my moms who know i'm autistic and are also both neurodivergent #and people online. most of who are autistic because it's mostly on tumblr and this is the autism website #yo-kai watch more like yo-gay watchtism amirite- #oh also very amused by hailey just poofing into existence in the second picture. as you do

[pear1ridge-a]

If i didn't know better I'd think that this shadowban is an excuse to make a couple new solo blogs

#tate and cassie...... they could thrive #can i still use the url victim9d for cassie if the list barely matters anymore #like yes its technically canon but i do not remember the last time i talked ab it #bc i simply. its bc. complete facts total truth its bc i am too attached to the cassiefaye drama to admit faye died #im in my cassie delusional era #no but the list happened at the end of hs and i focus on cassie in college so its. the timeline doesnt work #'move the list to college' 'convince rora to let faye live to be a menace another day' but then it throws off tates timeline :/ #him getting falsely arrested for fayes murder is crucial actually #so u see my problem #faye is schrodingers cat she is both alive and not alive as the narrative requires #u guys have to understand its so hard for me 2 ignore angst potential for a muse u all know this #so u must understand what cassiefaye delusion means 2 me 2 toss aside the angst potential of her losing faye #if there is one thing ab this blog it is that i will step for step detail tates backstory and timeline and everything is in place #and i will push cassie in front of an audience with no info except the words dumb cheerleader above her head #is she so much more than that? yes #will i write about it? no #idk gang read kurts bio picture him as a girl and pageants instead of gymnastics and its kinda the same vibe

[moondirti]

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

#do not be a cute girl around this man he will ruin your life #unedited #sorry this took me ages to pump out #tumblr deleted the first draft (?) so i had to rewrite #hate this dumb site #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost #simon riley #x reader #x female reader #call of duty #fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

[generalsmemories]

Ginkgo leaves

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ based on the ask: Since reqs are open, you think you could write jing yuans reaction to his lover being Mara-struck? Thank you! - requested by anonymous

✧ contents: established relationship, angst, hurt/almost no comfort lmfao, implied character death, mentions of other characters, pov mostly written in jing yuan's pov, still usage of 2nd pov (referring the reader as you), mayhaps ooc because jing yuan is an emotional wreck.

✧ a/n: when i tell ya'll i legit struggled to be able to write this entire thing. there's been like 3-4 scrapped drafts because halfway through writing i would just NOT be satisfied with the result. to the anon who requested this, i'm so sorry it took this long - but i hope the upcoming trainwreck makes up for it! a trainwreck im still not actually satisfied with LMFAO. but it's better than the other 5 scrapped works. also not beta-read so fellas if u see a spelling error - no you didn't.

p.s: some mara-struck information i give here are totally fanmade for the purpose of this fic alone, as such don't take whatever i write about mara here as what actually happens canonically to characters (then again most of the playable characters have different symptoms of mara themselves).

"Benefactor, am I correct to believe you're asking me if the general has any specific interests?" Tingyun asks with a snicker, the trailblazer looking away from her prying eyes while mumbling a quiet yes.

"Some of the younger... Can I call them younger? Anyway, some of the younger Xianzhou citizens are very infatuated with the general. Seeing as I've been announced as his honory guest, they do often come and ask me various things to try and gain his favor. So yeah, anything at this point will work - so please!" the trailblazer hurriedly explained, clasping their hands together in a desperate attempt to get anything from the foxian amicassador leaning back with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ahh, love truly makes someone go blind doesn't it," she muses out loud, the trailblazers' eyebrow furrowing together in confusion over the foxian's lady choice of words, "... You're not entirerely wrong with that statement..."

"Do you want to know what his favorite flower is?" Tingyun asks, ignoring the confused question that had been uttered to her, snapping her fan open to hide the cheeky smile that spread across her lips - but anyone could still tell that her eyes were gleaming with mischief as the trailblazer nodded their head.

"He doesn't have one."

"Then why did you even-"

"But he likes ginkgo leaves."

The trailblazers' eyes widened in shock, and rightfully so because the very thing ginkgo leaves are associated with are after all...

"He had a lover once, and as far as I'm aware, his last moment with them while they still had their consciousness intact was surrounded by ginkgo leaves."

Jing Yuan whilst having forgotten almost every single moment with you, does unfortunately remember the exact details of the day that your descent into madness started. Because what he witnessed wasn't a futile struggle you had with yourself to not to destroy everything within your vicinity. Instead, he witnessed the slow process of your bright self becoming an empty shell, only capable of uttering a few words.

It's comical really, even when faced with a curse that struck everyone mad - he found out that it oddly fit your character to not go mad, but instead become the complete opposite of your gentle self. A hollow shell of the person he fell in love with all centuries ago.

Jing Yuan knew he had to end your suffering right then and there when you first started to show signs.

But he couldn't - This wasn't something that had to be immediately dealt with, his hand wasn't forced like it was back when he had to slay his own master down before she took more lives.

No, this was a normal afternoon on what would've been another normal, mundane day in both of your lives. But everything went wrong the moment Jing Yuan heard the breaking of glass, and how there was a lone gingko leaf inside the palm of your hand - a ginkgo leaf that you were staring wide-eyed at with a trembling hand.

You were too far from the veranda to have a ginkgo leaf in your hand.

General Jing Yuan would've ended your suffering the moment you turned around to lock eyes with him, your own face twisted into one of utter fear.

General Jing Yuan would've reported you the to Ten-Lords Commissions as the law had stated. But Jing Yuan couldn't - because Jing Yuan knew that the moment he did, he would never see you again.

So he decided for once he would be selfish. Jing Yuan rarely made choices lately that was based off of his own feelings, but his time with you was cut too harshly, so once again he chooses to be selfish. Even if that meant that it would prolong your suffering just a tiny bit more. "... We can figure something out," was the only thing he could muster up the courage to say with a shaking voice. You didn't say anything, your mouth wobbling a tiny bit and your breathing getting harsher by the second.

But still you indulged him - you always did. So with an equally wobbly smile, you only nodded your head slightly, "... Sure."

That wobbly smile and expression of utter fear was the last genuine expression that truly came from yourself.

The descent to becoming fully mara-struck is usually a fast process, the curse able to completely overtake someone's mind within the same day the symptoms appears - rendering the person completely vulnerable with the only alternative to either hand themselves in to the Ten-Lords or wait for the Ten-Lords to come to them personally.

Your usual easy-going smile was gone, in its stead was eyes that kept going in and out of focus. Almost as if you were desperately trying to keep yourself grounded - a battle you both knew would end with your defeat.

Jing Yuan didn't dare to venture outside of the house. One step out and every Cloud Knight would've been on you within seconds to subdue you. He had first initially resorted to just holding you within his arms for as long as he could, to be able to remember how you felt like after your death.

But with the minimal strength you had left, you had wobbled to the garden, every step taken only making you pant heavily. But even with heavy breaths of air leaving your lips, you had refused to take Jing Yuans hand or offer to even carry you out to the garden. When you had managed to reach the ginkgo tree standing tall at the center of the garden, Jing Yuan was sure you were going to collapse in front of it, taking a quick step to catch you.

But instead you had merely reached your hands up, the falling leaves fluttering gently down onto your palms. And while you were in indescriable pain for the last couple of hours - Jing Yuan could only see a serene expression when you looked up at the ginkgo leaves that were continously falling down.

"... They're beautiful... aren't they... Jing Yuan? It's almost a pity... that these beautiful... leaves are associated with our doom," you said softly. Jing Yuan could feel his breath hitch in his throat when you uttered his name.

You're obviously struggling to convey whatever thoughts you still had to him properly, taking a moment in between words to catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed slightly as you fought against the searing pain that was spreading through every nerve in your body.

There's a sudden gust of wind which causes the pile of leaves in your hands to flutter away from your grasp. Your hand stretches out slightly, almost in an attempt to reach out for them - stumbling a bit in your step. The limp causes Jing Yuan to take a quick step forward with his arms outstretched. Perhaps seeing him in your peripheral vision causes you to stop the futile attempt to catch the escaping leaves, arms going limp against your side as you turn to face him - your once blank expression turning into a somber smile instead.

Jing Yuan thinks that it's unfair how normal you look in front of him - almost as if you haven't been becme mara-struck. Like nothing has happened to you aside from the ginkgo leaves fluttering from your lips whenever you cough. The same cough that causes the general of Luofu to flinch every time - without fail.

And perhaps you can see his inner turmoil, the way he tries to make eye contact with you, but is unable to after a few seconds. The way his hands clench too hard into fist to the point droplets of blood fall down to the grass and stains it a deep red while he bites his own lips to not say a word - lest he says something that he will regret.

And you truly wish that you could tell him everything is okay like you usually do.

But for the first time since the day he lost his friends, you can't.

"... I'm sorry," you finally say, the apology making him whip his head up to you again. Mouth opening to say something to comfort you, to tell you that it's not your fault. But the words are unable to leave his mouth when he sees your arms slightly outstretched towards him with a small smile.

And he can't hold it in anymore.

It only takes him a few wide steps to reach you from his position before he cradles you within his arms. The grip is tight, unbearably tight to the point it hurts, but you don't complain. You're limp in his hold, and if this was any day he wouldn't comment, but the fact that you're not moving a single muscle terrifies Jing Yuan to the core. "... Please," he finally manages to whisper, the rustling of ginkgo leaves around you almost drowning out his quiet plea.

"Please don't make me do this again."

He doesn't ask if the tensing of your body is caused by the pain that's rapidly increasing or if it's caused by his silent confession. He can however feel the gentle hand that rests against the lower part of his back and your head resting against the side of his own. The reassurance you try to give him does nothing to help because he's aware that it probably brought you unmeasurable pain to try to move those limbs - instead the general buries his face closer to your neck and squeezes you tighter.

"... You won't." you whisper quietly.

It takes a moment for Jing Yuan to process the meaning behind those two words.

But it's a moment too late, because before he can get his phone out to usher a command, a few resounding knocks can be heard throughout the quiet mansion.

"General Jing Yuan. This is Xueyi of the Ten-Lords commission. I've gotten information that there's currently a mara-struck within these premises."

Jing Yuan feels his blood run cold, he pulls himself away from you to stare at you properly in disbelief.

You're still staring at him with the same somber expression, however he can tell there's a small pitiful smile grazing your lips, "I'm sorry," you whisper once again.

"I asked her... personally," you start, finally letting yourself rest now that the end is near, slumping down onto Jing Yuan's chest, your ear settling itself against his heart to hear his rapid heartbeats.

Jing Yuan loathes the fact that it's at this moment, with the Ten-Lords commission outside of your door and with him completely broken do you actually look at peace - like your battle against time has finally come to its conclusion.

And naturally, the one who lost is you.

"Half a day... with you. Then she would come and bring me there. You won't have to... do this again."

You're not able to see Jing Yuan's face - and Jing Yuan wouldn't want you to see how he looked like right now. The arms around you is trembling, his mind is racing - trying to come up with anything to give him a bit more time with you.

But for once, the general that had a plan for every situation had nothing in mind.

He's lost. And the prize of the loss this time is losing you forever.

"General, I apologize for the rudeness of what I'm about to do, but this is for both of your safety," Jing Yuan hear Xueyi mutter from outside of the door, before he hears the rattling of the door frame start to slide open.

"Wait- no," it's a quiet request that gets ignored as Xueyi strides in alone, the lack of company making Jing Yuan's eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... Their last request along with the request for my late arrival here was for the Cloud Knights to not see you like this. Naturally I won't tell anyone of what I've seen today."

Jing Yuan doesn't care about that, he could care less about his image right now, pulling you closer to him while his eyes are downcast - he makes no move to hand you over to the judge.

The puppet judge before him does not say anything - nor does she make a move. What she does however is wait, wait for the general before her that has been utterly crushed and broken by the person in his arms start to accept the harsh truth once again.

If he doesn't handle the mara-struck himself, someone else would - but the end result only serves to punish him in the end, the one left behind.

Xueyi hears a silent breath be let out by the general, her once closed eyes opening up to see the general pull slightly away from you, one hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. Your eyes have long since closed, and you're most likely not even conscious to hear what he's about to say.

"My dear... I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. But I'm afraid you'll have to wait a bit longer before we can meet again," he whispers, bumping his forehead against your own gently, "I hope you won't fault me for that."

A long ginkgo leaf flutters right between the two of you, eventually settling down on your chest.

Jing Yuan sucks in one last deep breath, "I'm sorry I kept you here for so long - I'm sorry you had to be in pain for so long because of me," he leans in to slot his lips one last time over your own, whispering something that Xueyi can't hear before he rises up, your body limp in his arms.

"Thank you for your service Miss Xueyi, please see them off appropiately." Jing Yuan says, voice sounding eerily calm - almost like his usual self.

When he turns around to finally face her, the puppet's lifeless eyes seem to grow a bit in surprise. Before her is the general of Luofu, his usual easy-going smile present on his lips.

Like he wasn't carrying his mara-struck lover in his arms.

"As much as I would want to accompany you to see them off, I'm afraid I have some urgent matters to attend to," he informs, handing your body over to Xueyi - she doesn't comment on how his hands are still slightly trembling or how he immediately turned a bit to the side to ignore staring at her head-on.

Even though Xueyi doesn't want to ask, she still asks either way, "What are your plans from here on, general?"

Jing Yuan only gives her a close eyed smile, turning his gaze towards the large ginkgo tree with his hands behind his back. He gnaws a tiny bit at his lips, finally breathing out.

A couple of seconds passes by before he opens his mouth.

"I think I'll meditate a bit under this tree before heading back to the Seat. I can't leave Luofu without me for too long after all."

5 SCRAPPED WORKS AND I'M STILL NOT ACTUALLY THAT SATISFIED BUT IF I KEEP THIS PIECE LONGER IN THE WORKS THE MORE I'LL BUTCHER IT SO HAHA - THIS IS THE BEST WE CAN DO AFTER 3 MONTHS OF CONSTANT BACK AND FORTH FELLAS. I HOPE IT SQUEEZED YOUR HEART A TINY BIT NONETHELESS.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr imagines #star rail x reader #star rail imagines #star rail x you #honkai star rail angst #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #hsr jing yuan #jing yuan angst

[diejager]

just hear me out for one second.... what if hunter was a titan?... yk like aot (attack on titan)

reader looks totally normal, nothing indicating that they were something other than human. Even laswell wasnt 100% sure on what reader was. A stirring mystery within 141 that they all collectively decide to ignore.

then one day, they were out on a mission that was going horribly, horribly wrong.. incorrect information, sabotage, dangerous illegal weapons, low ammunition, scarce supplies, severe injuries, etc.. you name it.

141 was backed into a corner. definitely not the first time something like this has happened in their career...but they always manage to find a way out. Always making it back home, injured sure- but safe..alive.

this time it wasn't the case. there was no way out, none. death was knocking on the door and soon they had to answer.....

and unfortunately reader was the first to greet death.. a clean shot to the head by a sniper

one minute reader was laying in a pool of their own blood and the next they turn into this gigantic humanoid beast.

in a fit of rage, reader starts to completely destroy the battlefield. not a damn soul alive besides 141.

bodies scattered from the sea to the forest and heavens above ..nothing but pure gore and blood.

reader standing over the battlefield bloodied from head to toe, watching the devastation below.

(This is really long im sorry)

Cw: implied death, blood and gore, Canon-typical violence, titan!reader, gun violence?, tell me if I missed any.

The last thing Horangi remembered hearing through the angered hisses and growls, Price screaming at Laswell and her informants through the coms to find a way out their thick predicament was the shuddering shot that boomed through the air. The hair of his arms raised when he watched you turn towards the sound, your wide eyes and choked breath. You flinched back and lurched forward, hands grasping at your bleeding throat, choking and gurgling on the blood that rose from your wound. He rushed to pull you into cover, biting his lip at your pained expression, you were choking on your blood, dying by the thing that substained you, that cycled life and oxygen through your body. 

Your words were sputtered, splattered crimson on Horangi’s mask as he fussed over you, your pinched brows and scrunched nose, the angered gleam in your dulling eyes and your bloody and sneering lips. You pushed him away, stumbling forward with one step at a time, risking being shot a second and third time, but you kept marching away from them, ignoring their attempt to stop you and reach for you. 

“B- bast- ard-!” He heard you screech.

He didn’t know if some God or Gods favoured you or if you were extremely lucky for still being alive, a second bullet landing by your feet and a third scratching your arm. You raised a bloody hand, palm facing you, the crease and groves of every fold a dark red, then you bit down on it. Hard. He admired the strength behind your bite, the crunch of your skin breaking under your teeth and red exploding, he could only imagine how painful it was, but you were already in so much agony, your body’s probably numb. 

And suddenly, lighting sparked around you, bright yellow and loud, scarily close to you before one thick and dangerous one struck where you stood. Within seconds, he gaped at the mass of muscles, red fibres interlocking and sticking to ligaments and fat that kept it together, tying themselves to bone and tendons, wrapping away the red and white with a wide array of red and blue, building a system of veins that were finally covered by skin. In your place was a giant —a titan, one that he’d heard through the grapevines of black markets and hushed whispered and rumours from the underworld when he gambled his life away. 

The titan - you - let out a loud scream, head thrown back and arms reeling back, fingers clenched in anger, deep sated vitriol that carried you around them. He could only stare on in amazement as you trampled over the surrounding enemies, bending down to grip a man, your thick fingers clenching around him and squeezing the life out of him, leaving his entrails spilling out of his broken abdomen. You moved around stepping and squeezing them to death, a trail of carnage behind you, bodies strewed about, spines broken and heads rolling. 

He let you go on without a word, his breath stolen away by you when you slumped over, your nape breaking open with a loud hiss, steam billowing up the air from how hot your body ran, you arched out, body curled backward with a loud sigh. Horangi stared at you, unmoving and unbreathing, and only moved when Price rushed to you, climbing your titan body to pull the rest of you out, your arms and lower body still attached to it by thick, red muscle. Your feet stuttered, eyes blinking tiredly while you leaned on Price, groaning and rubbing the tension out of your temples. 

He realised the blood that was supposed to stain your skin and clothes were gone, evaporated in the heat of it. Your wound healed and energy spent, you were tired and grumbling about wanting to sleep, face pinched in irritation or annoyance, something he could feel. And without any complaints from them, Price had called for evac and waited at the LZ, everyone huddled around you, sharing the same amount of awe and surprise in their expression. You were a wonder to him, a beast of legends that Horangi had only heard of, but he had many, many questions and curiosities that he wanted fulfilled.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #konig mw2 #horangi #horangi x reader #horangi mw2 #soap mw2 #price mw2 #alejandro vargas #rudy parra #gaz mw2 #monster 141 #monster cod au #monster 141 au #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #kortac #los vaqueros #Titan!reader #blood and gore #tw blood #cw: gore

[flametrashiraarchive]

Hi! Me again lol. If we're limited to how much we can ask you don't have to answer. I was wondering if you could do Giyuu x Y/N who was also a hashira but after the final battle. They're finally able to be together and months later find out they're expecting. It can be SFW or NSFW. If you're not comfortable with this I totally understand.

-☀️

Yes! Happy endings ftw. 

I thought it would be cute to have this be part of the bathhouse pieces just for the sake of a throwaway joke, but this reader is specifically AFAB so please ignore it if that's not for you. It's the Bathing with Giyuu Multiverse.

I’m really sorry it doesn’t really include the pregnancy part (I alluded to it but they’re really difficult for me to write about sometimes) but I hope the love between Giyuu and you makes up for it. 

This piece does contain slight spoilers for the end of the Demon Slayer manga so be warned! (spoilers from here on out!) 

Also, I refuse to accept that the thing with the mark and how much time he has left is canon. It’s too sad so it doesn’t happen. You and Giyuu are gonna grow old together. 

I hope you like it!!

AFTERMATH

Giyuu Tomioka x F!reader. NSFW.

Memories of your fallen comrades haunt you long after the rubble is cleared away. Nightmares of what befell those you care about wake you when you finally do manage to drift off. The scent of battle lingers on your skin for weeks. Smoke, blood, and death. No matter how many times you've tried to wash it off it clings to you. 

Which is why you find yourself traipsing to the onsen in the darkness, your katana still grasped firmly in your hand, because you still can't quite believe that it's over. The battle is won, and the world is safe. 

You can relax in the onsen completely safe and completely alone– 

"You're kidding me?!"

Giyuu stares at you, half submerged in the steaming water, his expression one of wide-eyed surprise. But once he sees it's you, his face softens again. "Ah… is it time for our annual awkward bath together?"

You laugh for the first time in days. Giyuu has always been a little less guarded around you, but since the fight ended, he has been far more open. He's funny. Peace looks good on him.

"Do you mind if I get in?" You ask, "It's not like we haven't seen everything already."

He shakes his head. "I don't mind. We've been through hell and back together, this is nothing."

"Yeah…"

"Should I turn around?" he asks.

Oh Giyuu. Even after everything you’ve been through together; the battles, the quiet moments, the nights you spent together early on where you promised it was just once to get it out of your systems, and the times later when you both agreed you could die at any moment so why the hell not. Even after all that, he’s still a perfect and slightly awkward gentleman. 

Your breath shivers as you slip off your yukata in answer and those deep blue eyes of his drink you in. 

He stands, gazing up at you with his lips slightly parted. It'll take some time to get used to the sight of him without his right arm, and no doubt it'll take him even longer than that. But he's alive. You both made it. You survived. 

He wades toward you and offers you his hand, helping you step down into the water. His eyes never leave you. Yours never leave him. And you both just stand there, the water only up to your hip, laid bare before each other in this newly peaceful world.

You no longer smell smoke, blood, or death. Giyuu’s scent is soft, clean rain, washing over you and carrying the horrors away.

His smile is so soft and serene your heart aches.

A muscle in his cheek flexes before he speaks. "I didn't lose you," he says, as though the fact is only just sinking in, as if he'd mourned you even before the battle had even begun and is only just allowing himself to believe you’re really there, that you really survived. 

It’s a feeling you know well. 

A slow smile lifts his lips, his eyes meeting yours, his sapphire gaze filled with unending tenderness. You reach up to caress his cheek and melt as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 

"We made it, Giyuu."

"We did," he says, his voice so quiet and calm. "I should have told you this before the battle, but I was afraid to because I thought telling you would mean you wouldn't make it. Like I’d put a curse on you or something. And if you don't feel the same–"

"I love you."

His eyes widen a little, but soften a heartbeat later. He chuckles. "Yeah… yeah, you took the words out of my mouth." 

"I've wanted to tell you that for the longest time."

"Me too.' He dips his chin, pressing his forehead to yours as a quiet laugh of relief emerges from him. With your heart fluttering, you close your eyes and just enjoy the sensation, and the quiet intimacy of being loved by Giyuu.

His lips hover so close to yours, gentle breaths fanning over your skin. Your heart aches with need for him as you tilt your face toward him to bring your lips closer.

He closes the gap, his kiss as light as gossamer, sending your heart into a frenzy. The kiss is so gentle it's almost painful, the fluttering in your chest more than you can bear. It shivers through every fiber of your body, more potent than any breathing technique as every cell in your body seems to sigh his name. 

Giyuu. You're alive. We made it, and we can finally let ourselves love.

Little by little, the kiss deepens until Giyuu's tongue is caressing yours. His lips are soft and oh-so gentle, stirring up the butterflies in your belly. You open your eyes, seeking reassurance that this isn’t all just some dream. The intimate sight of him causes your heart to leap; his eyes are closed, his pretty dark lashes resting on his pink-dusted cheeks, so peaceful in that moment you can’t believe this is the same world which demanded so much sacrifice. 

He skates his hand down to the curve of your lower back, gently pulling you closer until your bodies are flush with each other. The rise and fall of his chest staggers against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, bathed in moonlight and the rising steam of the onsen. And though the battle only took place in one tiny pocket of the world, it feels as though you are clinging to each other among the wreckage, even here surrounded by serenity.

As much as you crave each other, you take your time and love one another slowly, washing each other with all the tenderness the world couldn’t spare you until now. You sit with your back to him as he washes your hair, his fingers deftly moving over your scalp, making goosebumps pebble along your thighs. He bows his head and weaves a cloak of kisses across your back and shoulders, making sure not to leave a single inch of you feeling unloved.

And then, when you’ve both washed away what you needed to, he takes your hand and leads you back to his home; a big, empty house waiting to be filled with the family and the love he never even allowed himself to believe he could have. The comforting scent of him lingers in the house and you feel as though you never want to leave. He doesn’t want you to go either. 

Moonlight shines through the windows, casting silver light over the pair of you as you lie together in Giyuu’s bed, lost once more in tender kisses. The relief and love, the guilt of survival, the way your mind can’t quite slip fully out of fight mode… It’s overwhelming. He notices the moment your tears start to fall. 

“Love… it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking them away with his thumb and you know he understands completely.

“We’re allowed to be happy, aren’t we?”

He smiles softly, and nods. “Yeah… we are.”

His breath is hot against your skin as he trails kisses over your jaw, down your throat, and to your chest. When his lips reach the top of your breast he pauses, lays down his head and closes his eyes, listening to your heart’s rhythm and your breathing with a quiet sigh. You know this will go on for a while; that no matter how often you reassure each other that this is real, that you both made it, that it’s okay for you to love each other, some part of you both will always question.

Because since when has the world ever been this kind?

“Can I love you forever?” he asks softly. “Is that okay?”

Your fingers thread through his soft black hair as he kisses down your stomach. “Please, Giyuu… please do.”

He brings you simple solace with the wet heat of his mouth. He settles between your thighs, eyes closed, lapping at your tender flesh with his fingers interlaced with yours. Soft and slow and so loving your heart can barely take it. He tastes every inch of you, drawing comfort from your sighs and the way you gasp his name. A groan emerges from him as you bear down on his tongue, grinding yourself against his gentle mouth. And only then does he quicken his pace, giving you what you need to drive you over the edge and plunging into ecstasy.

You can’t help but laugh a little as he raises his head to gaze at you. Giyuu always has the haziest, prettiest expression when he’s drunk on your pussy, and the war hasn’t changed that one bit. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips glossy with your slick arousal. 

He gets back onto the bed, lying face-to-face beside you and guides your thigh over his waist, angling his hips so he can enter you. He sets a languid rhythm, kissing you the entire time, his cock only entering you halfway so he can make it last as long as possible. He fought through hell to be here with you and he’s going to make sure he cherishes every second.

“You’re… so wet…” he gasps against your lips.

You try to bite back a grin and fail. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you fuck the water hashira.”

Giyuu’s composure breaks and he laughs–really laughs–resting his forehead against your chest. “I love you.”

Gods, what a world this is; that you get to love him, that you have the luxury of time to stop and laugh together in the middle of sex. Giyuu has such an adorably boyish laugh too; one which crinkles his nose and shakes his shoulders. It’s a sound you want to hear a billion times more over the course of your life and a sight you will never tire of.

“I love you too, Giyuu. I always will.”

He’s still chuckling until he rolls you onto your back and presses himself deeper, wiping the smiles from both your faces as pleasure drowns out your amusement. The delicious stretch pulls a groan from you, and when he starts to roll his hips you can’t help but cry out. The control he has over his body is breathtaking, and the loss of his arm doesn’t hinder him at all as he has you wrap your legs around his waist and fucks you hard and deep, filling the room with the lewd symphony of slapping flesh and your wanton cries.

Every time before, he has pulled out of you, both of you unwilling to bring a child into the world when each tomorrow was so precarious. But now he presses deeper, his eyes alight with new possibility, and love like he never allowed himself to believe in. He groans as he fills you, resting his head between your breasts and listening to the thundering rhythm of your heart as you wrap your arms around him and hold him through his orgasm. 

And then you lie together in the aftermath; just you and Giyuu at the end and the beginning of it all.

#giyuu x y/n #demon slayer giyuu #giyuu smut #kimetsu giyuu #giyuu tomioka #giyuu x reader #kny giyuu #demon slayer tomioka #kimetsu no yaiba tomioka #tomioka x y/n #tomioka giyū #tomioka giyu x reader #kny tomioka #tomioka giyuu #giyuu fluff #tomioka fluff #Giyuu fanfic #tomioka fanfic #giyu x y/n #giyu x reader #giyu x you

[andsomemaniacgotridofthewheel]

I think "Bad Writing on Purpose" is a misnomer.

And people focus too much on it.

First of all, I really don't understand why people were surprised by the cliffhanger. Everyone was talking about how Neil said season 2 was going to be "quiet, gentle, and romantic" but nobody noticed that he also, on multiple occasions, wrote that season 2 was not the sequel he and Terry plotted, but what needed to happen to get the characters to where they needed to be at the start of what they plotted as the book sequel but would now be season 3. He was always completely open that season 2 was a bridge, and after reading it here and there before season 2 came out, I for one knew that season 2 would most likely end with a cliffhanger.

I mean, I surely didn't know we would get OFMD-ed, that was indeed a surprise, but I knew there would be a cliffhanger. Why didn't you?

Now I have read ariaste's famous 15 000 word essay. I find her theory quite brilliant. I don't think she will be (totally) right about it, it's too specific and too reliant on her assumption of how the Book of Life works. I also disagree with some of the details of what she calls "bad writing". Especially Maggie might just be portrayed as a dork neurodivergent. And some of her visual "clues" already turned out to be simple homages. (Not "The Crow Road", though, I think. Yes, Neil and Terry were friends with Ian Banks. But he has written like 40+ books, why choose THAT one, the one that deals in part with people solving a mystery by going through old documents, just after we are shown that Aziraphale keeps diaries and definitely leaves them in the bookshop when he's going to heaven? Even if we ascribe its first appearance to the famous opening line which Gabriel reads aloud, why show the same book a second time, mid-frame?)

Also, yes, I disliked that Aziraphale's & Crowley's new first meeting put them on the wrong foot with each other, when their meeting in Eden had established them as kinda instant co-conspirators from the very beginning. The same with Crowley in the Job episode being the one to introduce Aziraphale to worldly pleasures instead of him discovering them on his own. But that is sometimes what happens when you learn more about characters from new canon, sometimes it doesn't fit your established headcanon. You either roll with it or you choose to ignore that part of canon.

But I do think she is on the right track. And the most important thing that ariaste pointed out is still the missing/unsatisfying payoffs and the unfired Chekov's Guns, which I am pretty sure is the very reason this season felt so "off" for most of us and why ariastes theory found so much resonance. But I wouldn't call that Bad Writing. I would call that at most Weird Writing Choices. Especially if

you view the whole of season 2, the bridge season, the quiet gentle and romantic interlude, as one. giant. setup.

Having Aziraphale use his never-before-mentioned halo as a deus-ex-machina option to defeat the demons in his bookshop is a weird writing choice. Especially when we know we have a literal Chekov's - Derringer - Gun hidden somewhere in there, which is not being used. Mentioning the Book of Life several times and have it be of no consequence, Crowley even doubting that it really exists, is another unfired gun. The Nazi-Zombies, which are somehow left to their own devices and never mentioned again, could be a Chekhov's Gun - and I feel a lot better knowing now that yes, the living dead are apparently part (a sign?) of The Second Coming.

But it isn't bad writing. It is setting up season 3. It has always been about setting up season 3. We got a nice, little, quiet gentle and romantic, fan-fictionesque Ineffable Bureaucracy main plot to go with it, but that was never the raison d'etre for season 2. It's main purpose was always to set. up. season. three.

After all, most paraphrasings of "Chekov's Gun" speak of acts. If a gun is shown in act 1, it has to be fired in act 2. If a gun is shown in one act, it has to be fired the following. If we look at Good Omens as a 3-act-story, with one season being one act, then all the Chekov's Guns were shown to us in act 2, and are not required to go off until act 3 - meaning season 3.

All of you who dismiss this and go "no one ever wrote bad on purpose just to fix it in the next season, why not accept this season was just bad" are missing the point, because you fixate on the "bad writing on purpose" misnomer. It's not bad writing. It's delayed gratification. It's setting up a payoff over more than one season. Which you can absolutely do if you have a plan, if you know where your story is going. It is what everyone still seems to expect from J.J. Abrams, even though we should know better by now. His setups never pay off, because he sets up things he never intends to resolve, never even has an idea about how they could be resolved, and keeps getting away with it. And yet, the overwhelming presence of his shitty writing in media has probably screwed with our expectations from mystery shows, which thanks to him are not very high. But I truly believe that Neil Gaiman (and John Finnemore, a frickin' COMEDY writer, for whom the setup-payoff concept must actually be like breathing) are both simply better than that windbag. There will be a payoff. Only later.

I believe we will come back to the halo. Aziraphale's Derringer Gun will be fired. The Book of Life will have meaning, even if it is different from what we might theorize. The Zombies will at least be mentioned. And I think even the weirdly framed and then forgotten Eccles cakes will make another appearance. We will have an actual, big-stakes gen plot next season. Aziraphale & Crowley will be stopping another apocalypse. It will have to do with Crowley's "all of us against all of them" line from season 1. It will have Anathema & Newt (I remember one Tumblr ask before season 2 where Neil was asked if they would come back for season 2, and he answered no, but they would hopefully be in season 3), and I personally think they're gonna regret burning that second book from Agnes. Crowley & Aziraphale will not have much time to talk about their relationship or to feel sorry for themselves, as a lot of fans seem to expect. This will not be fan-service, this will not be fan-fictionesque. The bigger picture is the second apocalypse and once again saving humanity, and saving earth. Doing that, Crowley & Aziraphale will find common ground again, they will find each other again. They will end up in their shared cottage in the South Downs, openly in love, and everything will be ok. I don't know exactly how, and I don't want to speculate too much, because that almost always ends up with me being disappointed by how canon actually turns out.

But I believe in Neil Gaiman. I believe he cares. I believe he might even care more about "Good Omens" than about any other of his creations. And I believe in the Brilliance of John Finnemore. I don't believe that he would have let Neil get away with these setups without real payoffs if he didn't see the point of them.

(And if Amazon and their greedy CEO/shareholders are the reason we won't get a third season, you'll hear about me in the news, I swear. 😡)

#good omens #neil gaiman #john finnemore #crowley #aziraphale #the magic trick theory #the magic trick you didn't see #ineffable divorce #ineffable idiots #ineffable dumbasses #good omens season 2 #good omens s2 #go2 #anthony j crowley #south downs cottage #good omens 2 #nikku.txt #aj crowley #az fell

[bingusbongu]

LUCIFER OBEY ME WITH A TIMID READER RRBRGRGRGG

-🖋

A/N: an obey me request!!! I haven't been playing obey me in awhile, the last thing i tried was Nightbringer- but honestly, Lucifer TOOK MY BREATH AWAY WHEN HE CAME ON SCREEN so i can ABSOLUTELY. Kinda short:) lots of love<3

Remember, these are just headcanons, NOT CANON!!!!

Reader dialog is in pink, BUT they are gender neutral! Its just to tell who is talking! Mammon is orange, Solomon is Blue, and Lucifer is red!

《 Masterlist 》

《 Rules 》

TW: yelling/scolding, overworking, Harassment

Lucifer obey me x timid! Reader Hcs/slight imagines

• he found out in the worst way possible. You did something, lets say with Mammon or just doung something wrong. He snapped at you, expecting you to just say sorry, but nope! You stared up at him with big, watering eyes and nearly started crying while mumbling 'im sorry' over and over again

He didnt know what to do, he didnt expect you to cry of all things, he kinda just stood there in shock. It was Mammon who stepped up and patted your back, huffing at his older brother

" look what ya did! Humans are sensitive ya know that?! "

And Lucifer watched Mammon lead you away to go and cheer you up, most likely going to buy you something

• as the avatar of pride, he has no room for feeling sorry unless it's of his brothers. You were just a mere human. There was no reason to feel sorry for you. And he didn't understand why he did.

he observed you for a while in the household. How you spoke so quietly, how you apologized for every little thing that wasn't even your fault. How his brothers softened their tone when around you as to not scare you, even Satan!

He didn't understand, so he went to the one person who might actually know: Solomon (much to his displeasure). As another human, he may actually have an answer to why you act like this, it couldnt be normal.

When he asked Solomon, he laughed at him. But automatically stopped at Lucifers glare.

" Oh, you're actually serious - well, it's normal for a human to act like that. Scared, nervous, and flinching at every touch, some humans are like that, or they are like that due to their specific past or something that has happened to them. I mean, take a look in their shoes, imagine you're a human, living your life, and all of a sudden you're in hell. Not only that, you're living with the 7 deadly since and made to go to a school full of demons that could easily kill you. They are scared. They aren't used to this, and are afraid that the moment they look someone in the eyes wrong, they are dead."

Lucifer had to sit and process that information. Now that he thought about it, it made total sense.

You were small, fragile, weak, just a simple human in hell. He hated to say it, but Solomon seemed right for once. Its not like he hadnt noticed the way you tried to avoid him and stay close to one of his brothers when he was around. Maybe when he yelled at you, he caused you to fear him.

• he felt awful about it now that he understood the concept. So, he decided to atleast try and fix his relationship with you, for some reason, he didnt want you to fear him anymore.

When he entered the room and you were in there, he stopped himself from having his usual glare. And greeting you gently instead of just completely ignoring you. And occasionally, would hint you a tiny compliment or a small nod at you if you do something in particular.

• his brothers caught on very quickly. Instead of you clinging to their side when Lucifer was around, he seemed the need to not do so. And Lucifer was being polite to you, after he seemed like you were inferior to him!

One of the instances when they were caught gaurd was after an accident. Lucifer was NOT happy at his brothers for something they did, and was chewing their ears off. But, to their confusion, automatically stopped when the door opened and you came in. Instead, Lucifer cleared his throat and greeted you gently, asking you very sweetly if you can leave the room and give him and his brothers more time to discuss.

They were BAFFLED. since when did Lucifer start being so nice to you?? They tried to beg you not to leave, but once you did so, Lucifer continued scolding them, but with less volume.

• over time, Lucifer would notice that sometimes, youd flinch when he'd enter the room. But, instead of staying tense, you relaxed when you just noticed it was him, and for some reason, that made him feel, good.

Not only that, but you would actually talk to him now, without cowering away from him. It was nice to actually talk to you, without you whispering responses when he asked you questions.

• one time, it was late at night, and Lucifer was busy finishing his paperwork. After so long, he decided to take a break, he had his back scrunched for to long and he needed to stretch his legs. So, he left his office to go and take a walk around the mannor.

It was quiet, all the lights were shut off, but he could see perfectly. Everyone was asleep, after making sure to check some of his brothers rooms to make sure they were sleeping.

Though, when he walked passed your room, he realized that your light was still on. It was quite late, you shouldnt been awake, humans need rest after all.

He cracked your door open to see why you were still awake. He found you hunched over your desk with your desk lamp on. A book open and multiple notes scattered around. It looked as if you were, struggling.

He gently knocked the door and called your name. He watched you jump and look up in panick.

"O-oh! Lucifer! I... i uh..."

"What are you doing up this late? Humans need their rest more than we do"

He watched you hesitate, looking over at the papers on your desk and sigh loudly. His heart nearly cracked at your tired voice.

"Im getting behind in my classes, and im not understanding this demon homework and i dont want to bother Solomon.... im sorry"

God, it felt like all his pride left his body when he saw how guilty you looked. But the fact that you admitted it instead of covering it up like his brothers would.

You expected him to yell at you, but instead he pulled up a chair beside you.

"Here, let me help you"

To your suprise, he started teaching you the homework in a way you could understand. He was slow and gentle with you, instead of rushing you like your teachers were doing to you and making you stressed out. He actually... helped you. Not only that, but with his help, you got it done in an hour. And he herded you back into bed.

"next time, dont be afraid to ask for help"

• After that, Lucifer gained your full trust.

youd greet Luicfer happily and with a smile, no matter who you were around. And became more comfortable enough in his presence to talk to him! Sometimes he liked silence, but he also adored the fact you trusted him enough to talk to him without any fear

Occasionally, youd be invited into his office to just talk with him while listening to his records and possibly having tea, hust talking with eachother, and Lucifer actually enjoyed your company. Hed ask you about your grades, and was glad to hear you wete doing alot better with his help.

• if you were to make him something as a thank you, like going to buy him something or baking him something or making his favorite food, he is in disbelief.

• oh the things he would do to keep you save MY GOD

• you won over his pride filled heart

• wherever he goes, you are usually seen with him. Either just walking, going out, or occasionally at meetings. He liked it when you came along with him, that you felt safe enough to go places with him around.

• if anyone were to point it out, he will avoid the subject and change it. (you are his emotional support human, but he would NEVER admit that)

• though, if someone where to yell at you, or speak to you as if you are lower and should know your place, god he would be pissed. ESPECIALLY if they make you cry

He would destroy hell if it were to hurt you in any way shape or form. He would escort you away, but you BEST believe he is coming back and showing them what true hell feels like

• you are the only one he allows into his room uninvited. Infact, he perks up when its you, and lets you sit with him. Even in silence, its comforting

• he is ontop of making sure you are okay. The moment you seem more sad or timid then usual, he is stopping everything to make sure you are okay.

• HE IS SO SWEET TO YOU SUCH A GENTLEMAN UGGGGGGGGG.

• even if one of his brothers raises their voice around you, or say something mean he is there and glaring them down with the force of 1000 suns.

• when you are stressed out or afraid, he puts his hand on your back and makes you focus on him. Speaking softly and gentle to you, trying to sooth you into a calm state. Wiping your tears away with gentle hands

• them buying you a sweet treat:)

• GOD you have this man of pride WRAPPED around your finger

#lucifer obey me x reader #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me lucifer #x reader blog #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #x reader headcanons #headcanons #slight imagines #UGHHHH BARK BARK BARK #would #obey me zone

[cultofdixon]

From being alone…to having a family of your own

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • You were alone…with your son and dog…struggling to survive. But then comes the archer • ANGST/SFW • TW: Past Abuse / Anxiety / Malnutrition / Nightmares / Sleep Deprivation / Mentions of Canon Violence

Requested by: Anon

“Hey, don’t be out too late. We all deserve a good night’s sleep after…the afternoon we had” Rick frowns holding Judith close as he told such to Daryl who was going to go on a run which was more a glorified walk to clear his head.

“Who’s on watch tonight?”

“It was Aaron but he has a baby now so it’s Rosita. I’ll let her know you’re going out”

“Alright” Daryl frowns making his way out of Alexandria shortly after that conversation.

The archer didn’t know exactly where he was going but he needed to just go. There was barely any sunlight left and kept walking until it felt alright to take a breather somewhere. Which happened to be another abandoned gas station, not the one he had met Jesus for the first time, but a similar looking one.

Except what he thought was odd, was the windows being boarded when the door was wide open. Daryl decided to sweep the place and listen in for any walkers but none are inside or near the place. As the archer stepped back out, he noticed a dog. Looked like a GSP, a German Shorthaired Pointer, not like Daryl would know that exactly but he’s seen dogs like such before in the old world. This one was a puppy though and at first was cautious of Daryl before immediately approaching him and sniffing his feet.

“Where did you come from?” Daryl frowns kneeling to the puppy’s level, noticing the bandana. An indicator that it’s someone’s.

The GSP continued to sniff Daryl until he dubbed him a friend instead of a threat. Then he suddenly booked it into the woods. Daryl being his cautious self weighed his options before deciding and sprinting after the dog. At this point he needed his flashlight to see through the darkening forest as the time went by.

Then he heard a voice…

“Frank!” The voice had some power to it but the closer Daryl got to the unknown just from following the dog, he heard the struggle that followed the shout. “F-Fuck…Frank where are you?”

Daryl suddenly stops before a small clearing within the woods finding a woman with her back turned. But she turned toward him when the GSP, or Frank from what the archer put together, approached her feet happily.

“You son of a bitch…” She exhales happily as the GSP jumped on her leg when she completely faced him. Daryl noticed the baby sling she had that carried the sleeping child as her noticeable injuries made sense to why she’s that beaten up. To protect her baby and possibly the dog given how young he is.

It didn’t click right away that she was being watched until she heard walkers nearby. She looked up locking eyes with Daryl for a moment and before he could get a word out, she picked up the dog with her free arm that wasn’t supporting the baby and booked it. He turned toward the sound of the walkers taking them out with his crossbow before tracking her down.

Which…wasn’t very far.

Daryl slowed his steps when he heard crying from the baby the woman was carrying and the GSP howling. He approached the sound noticing the woman on the floor propped against the tree holding her baby protectively while every ounce of her body ached and wanted to give up.

“Please don’t hurt us…” She begged the second she heard his footsteps as Daryl ignored every cautious thought he had and knelt beside her assessing her injuries.

Returning to Alexandria in a foreign vehicle he managed to Hotwire but it didn’t have headlights, Rosita was cautious about opening the gates until Daryl stepped out flashing his flashlight at her.

Next thing they knew, Siddiq was taking care of this total stranger in the infirmary while Daryl held this baby that wasn’t his sitting on the porch with the dog currently taking up Rosita’s attention. Rick heard of the news and came quickly over to see his brother with this baby and dog.

“Where the fuck do you find these things?”

Daryl shrugs looking down at the baby that instantly calmed in his arms. Rick was about to pass him to check what was going on inside but the archer quickly grabbed his leg to stop him.

“Let him work”

“You brought a total stranger—-“

“That had no weapons on her person” Rosita adds. “Not even a knife, Rick. She’s not a threat so far. Just let Siddiq do his job” she hissed slightly as the dog licked at her face to try and return her good mood.

“Where the hell she gonna stay cuz we need somebody to keep an eye—-“

“Carol’s old place. I still live in there. She, her baby, and her dog can stay there. I’ll keep an eye on’em” Daryl states and before Rick could even say another word, the archer glared at him reminding him that he’s holding a baby and now wasn’t the time for anymore of his not well thought out plans.

No more discussion happened and this woman didn’t wake until two days later. She woke to an IV and a raging headache from the blood loss. But she was patched up and everything…by total strangers. Then she remembered.

“Frank…Leo…” She swung her legs over the edge and tried to get up but immediately went down. The sound of her hitting the ground resulted in quick paced steps and the man from before coming into view. “Where’s my baby?! Where’s my dog?! Wheres my family?!” She snaps only to hiss to a sudden radiant pain bringing her hand to her side.

“They’re safe. You’re safe here” Daryl frowns quickly helping her to her feet with a bit of a fight from her as she sat back down on the infirmary bed. “My friend Aaron is currently watching your baby boy. Along with your dog. They are safe…no one is gonna hurt’em or you”

She felt the tears come suddenly as she covers her mouth to stop the audible of it all to escape. Her body hurt. Her anxiety ached her. She didn’t know what to feel in that moment.

“Uhm. Can I…at least get your name? Don’t think yea wanna talk about what happened to yea”

“Y/N…I’m Y/N…”

“I’m Daryl” He replied with watching her wipe away her tears even if they continued to fall. “How long have yea been out in the woods for?”

“…two months? Or what felt like it”

“Siddiq, the doc, says your baby is about six months from whatever fucking military doc training has babies involved” Daryl scoffs playfully as his smile threatened to break out when he heard her laugh.

“You’d uh…be surprised” Y/N smiles for what felt like the first time in over a year. But it was quick to fade when she realized. “Oh…”

Daryl’s expression fades instantly as he tried to read hers to understand what the sudden change was about. Then she sighed.

“You want us out huh…now that I—“

“No! No…uhm. You will have to talk to the leader of this community about…what happened. But ‘sides that, you and your family are welcomed here…” Daryl reassures watching her shoulders relax but she still held herself a moment.

“…Can I get my son?”

“Doc says to finish the IV. But I can go get’em and your dog for you…uhm. Their…?”

“Leo, my son. And I think you’ve heard me call the dog Frank”

“Right. Just making sure, sunshine” He says unexpectedly as he quickly left on that note, leaving Y/N alone as she couldn’t help the more tears that fell but she kept a smile.

The archer didn’t appreciate being kicked out of the meeting with Rick. But he hovered and so did Michonne.

“I know yea didn’t tell Daryl what happened but I gotta know in order to feel better about having you here”

“Where should I start?” Y/N’s attention was obviously on her son in her arms instead of giving Rick eye contact.

“How yea ended up in the woods with a baby and a fuckin’ dog”

“I ran away from this place called the Sanctuary, I used to be Uhm. One of the big guy’s wives until one of his “right hands” showed him promise and he literally gifted me to him…” Y/N tensed when she held her son not wanting to talk about the rest anymore and it took the retired sheriff a second to connect the dots.

“You don’t have to go further. I can assure yea though, a lot of Negan’s men are dead and he’s been put in his place”

But not dead Y/N thought to herself, knowing that meant he’s contained at least. She can put a few things together in terms of the Saviors are now gone, the Sanctuary still exists, and most of the residents branched into other communities. Some still stayed but she didn’t know that much after Rick went on to explain everything. He even told her where she’d be staying with her family.

“Is this man still alive? From what—-“

“I killed him. He was the first person I ever killed. I took out a lot of walkers and did everything to avoid people before I put my trust in a group that I didn’t know until a sick way of showing power was a part of this debt collection”

“You lost people?”

“Yes, and no. I don’t know what happened to the other remaining person from that group. I will say, I don’t want to find out either”

“Bad blood between the two of yea?” Rick asks as he leaned back into his seat, his anxiety easing the more they talked.

“He knew what happened to me and there was a moment to help, but he just. Walked away” She tensed once more, hating to have to rethink it even if talking about it all would give her and her family asylum. Rick was about to talk further when her son started crying. “I gotta feed him and I’m not comfortable with—“

“Right right. I’ll leave yea to it”

The retired sheriff steps out watching both Michonne and Daryl quickly stand as he was a bit confused why they both were there. Decided not to think too much of it.

“Verdict?”

“Get her properly armed, Daryl.” Rick stated making his leave with Michonne as Daryl went off to get everything ready.

It’s been about nine weeks of having Y/N within their community. Everybody likes her, a little more because she does her part. Leo is a little attention whore unintentionally, but every moment he’s in his mother’s lap while they’re out on the porch. He’d scream at everyone that passes by and make grabby hands as his way of saying hello. Frank has become Daryl’s hunting buddy once he was trained a bit by the archer to do such. He even sneaks into the man’s room at night when Y/N has her door closed, he only scratches if both their doors are closed.

Honestly. If you squint, Daryl got his own little family. Hell even Carol pointed it out once.

“Shut up”

“What! You’re protective of them, especially her.” Carol smiles walking through the forest with her best friend and her dog. “Admit it, D. Something about her cracked open that heart of yours that you want to do more than protect her”

“You’re fucking crazy” Daryl scoffs, watching Frank go in a full blown sprint toward a rabbit inevitably catch it.

“I’m not the one that takes her dog out for hunting trips and always bring back something from the catch just for her”

Daryl was starting to regret inviting her on this hunting trip. But was she wrong about his hidden feelings? No.

Arriving back to Alexandria, Frank immediately made a beeline for Y/N who was helping with the farming that day. She took her gloves off before kneeling to the dog’s level and giving him some loving pets. Daryl made his way over and watched how Y/N instantly smiled in his direction causing his mind to short circuit a bit.

“He wasn’t trouble was he?”

“Nah, he actually caught a few things”

“Wow, good boy Frank” Y/N smiles as Frank pulls away from the pets to go sniff and lay next to Leo who was sitting on a blanket nearby. “Feel free to always take him out. Just as long as you both come back in one piece” she straightens up continuing to smile before getting back to work.

Daryl lingered for a bit, still thinking about what Carol said and implied earlier. He left when he felt awkward for standing there too long and once he did, Michonne came up to Y/N as if she was waiting for him to leave.

���So, how are you liking being here?” Michonne smiles as she helped Y/N finish planting a new line of tomato seeds they found on a run.

“It’s nice. I’m grateful, to all of you. Especially Daryl even if we weren’t that talkative in the beginning”

“You were getting used to new people and how we do things around here. It’s understandable”

Y/N glances over to check on how her son was doing, to notice Daryl checking on both him and the dog as she couldn’t help the warmth she felt seeing her son’s eyes light up at the man. Michonne smiles watching the same display as Daryl eventually brought himself to sit with the two for a moment. Which prompt her what to say next, to see something.

“You know, you can get your own place here. Just you, your son, and dog”

“Oh”

“Oh?” Michonne questions watching Y/N tense, something she didn’t expect to happen.

“I don’t know. I just feel safe knowing he’s there”

“I don’t think he minds having all of you there. It was just something I thought I’d bring up”

Hours passed since that conversation but to Y/N it felt more like…well she didn’t exactly know how she felt. She knew she felt safe and happy. Something that hasn’t happened together in a long time. It felt like Michonne was prompting something to get her to say what she needed to hear. But that doesn’t matter anymore. For now.

Y/N comfortably sat on the couch with her legs up and son laying on her chest peacefully sleeping. She heard the front door open watching Frank trot right in noticing her and heading over to join them on the couch while Daryl follows shortly behind.

“Hey” Daryl kept his voice low noticing the sleeping child as Y/N gave him a smile. “Yea hungry?”

The second she said yes, Daryl went ahead to making dinner as Y/N got up to put Leo down to sleep further with Frank trailing her the entire time. Once he finished cooking, the two found themselves eating in the silence and Daryl usually finishes first finding himself watching Y/N eat everything he’s prepared. He would look away whenever she looked up, thinking he was slick, but she always saw and fought back a giggle.

The two found themselves cleaning the dishes together and Daryl prepared a bowl for Frank while Y/N finished hand drying her plate.

“This feels so…domestic” Y/N laughs a little. “Makes me miss a little of the before”

“Did yea expect to have a kid and a dog in the before?”

“I had a cat before the outbreak. Makes me wonder where the fuck he’s at” She smiles opening the cabinet to put the clean dishes away. “But no. I didn’t expect this…it’s…good though. I love my little family”

“Uhm. Can I ask yea somethin’? If it’s too much yea don’t have to answer”

“Go ahead, D”

“Does…Uh. Your son have a dad out there lookin’ for him and you or…” Daryl asks watching her expression fall for a second as he instantly regretted it. “Forget it. I—-“

“No, no…it’s okay to ask that. And no he doesn’t have one. He wasn’t a good man so. I wouldn’t have wanted him anywhere near Leo…or me”

“I wouldn’t let him near y’all any way just from hearing that” He states, didn’t expect that to come out of him so easily as Y/N was taken back by his protectiveness which brought back that warmth she felt earlier.

“He’s dead so. Don’t have to worry about him…” She says softly, leaning back against the counter as Daryl straightens up after giving Frank his bowl.

“Still. I’ll protect yea always” Daryl locks eyes with her a moment as it felt as if it was…that moment. He brought himself close to her as Y/N pushes herself off the counter.

Her hands instantly find themselves on his hips as he gently brushes the hair away from her face about to make his move when the baby monitor picked up Leo’s crying.

“I’ll go—“

“I got it” Daryl finally gave her a full smile of his as he took a different chance by kissing her cheek. “I’ve got him sunshine” and left to take care of the little one.

Y/N watches the archer head upstairs as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Her thoughts rushing until Frank jumped on her snapping her out of them.

“He’s a good one huh?”

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

[hotchfiles]

first. damn your love.

pairing: james x fem!reader.

content warnings: james being kind of an ass, cheating on lily, lily will be probably shit talked (i luv her i'm very sorry !), reader being a lil side piece, uhhh cursing, pro quidditch player!james, not totally AU but like... canon divergent i would say, reader insert with no use of names or “y/n”. probably hurt/no comfort unless i switch the ending but-- paragraphs completely in italic are flashbacks and each chapter will have one.

word count: 2,5k

chapter 1

you wake up startled by the loud banging coming from your door, a glance at the clock on your nightstand makes your eyes roll immediately, but truthfully, you couldn't help moving your lips into a slight smile. there was only one person who would be at your door at three in the morning on a thursday, and that person was james potter.

you were still groggy and exhausted, having gone to bed just two hours before. however, you would never be able to ignore him and he knew that, so you sit on your bed and yell at the door, it was a tiny flat, he, as well as the neighbours, unfortunaly, would be able to hear you loud and clear. "JUST WHY, IT'S THREE IN THE MORNING."

"i need to talk to you," he said loud enough so you could hear him, and sure enough that was convincing enough for you to get up and open the door, and he was right. you take a deep breath and mumble something you yourself didn't even understand, but it seemed like he got it. "i knocked on your door countless times, come open it, please." a loud grunt leaves your throat and you get up lazily, heading to the door, managing not to bump into furniture only because you knew your own apartment too well. you yawned a few times and unlocked the door, opening it to find james. the guy who was usually all smiles seemed quite apprehensive. you got concerned and felt a bit less sleepy because of it.

"what happened, jamie?" you ask, giving him space to enter your home, which he quickly did. closing the door swiftly to be able to look at him with a serious glare. "please tell me you're not drunk." you couldn't smell alcohol, but something about him was off; he seemed disconcerted.

"of course not!" still, you watched him cautiously as he sat on the sofa, sighing deeply. you followed his steps, sitting beside him and taking one of his hands, cold as a stone.

james looked at your hands and then at your face, smiling calmly and breaking the contact just to hug you sideways, so your head rested on his shoulder, a quick response to a regular move. "i received an offer from wimbourne wasps," he began, and you heard another sigh from him, you kept quiet, saying nothing as you waited for him to continue. "i'm seriously considering accepting it." he fell silent, and for a few seconds, you still waited for him to say more, but he didn't.

"and what's the problem?" you asked.

"lily didn't take the idea very well. we had a fight. sirius isn't thrilled with this possibility either. appleby arrows' fans got wind of the offer, and even though i haven't accepted it yet, they're already calling me a traitor." he poured it all out at once, and for a moment, you were speechless. you could understand sirius, and the fans… but his girlfriend too? what happened to support and companionship in a relationship? you sigh deeply and look into his eyes, hoping to give him the assurance he so wanted to receive from someone, anyone.

"you want to take it?" you hold back all the insults you could direct at his girlfriend, and see him nod slowly. "then do it. it's your life, your career, no one has the right to interfere in what you think is best for both."

"really?" he asks, another cry for validation, and you nod, getting a beautiful smile from him. "you're the best person in the world." those sweet words cut deep through your chest. hearing that was good, but knowing that even if he thought that, you weren't his first choice hurt like a goddamn bitch. but you smiled, stealing a kiss from his lips and remembering the first time he had said those words when you were both fifteen.

you looked into his eyes and tried to look as serious as possible, trying to show that you weren't that kind of person, and he knew that very well. asking you to do something like that went against how you had led your whole student life. but contrary to what you thought, you weren't convincing enough; you just made him show a big and adorable pout of supplication.

"please, honey! i have to train for the next match, it's an important one. i won't have any time to think about it, to research, to read and write." he shook you by the shoulders, and you held back a long sigh that was about to escape, just blinking a few times and reconsidering the idea of ​​helping him.

you threw your arms in the air to show you were accepting your defeat, and the smile you loved so much was again the center of all your attentions, james kisses your forehead and brushes his lips to yours teasingly. you laughed with rosy cheeks because that still made me you nervous, and he hugged you sideways.

"honey, i love you," he said simply, casually. your heart raced, despite knowing each other for years and having been friends during all of them, he had never said those words to you, not even when he asked you out, then he only said that he liked you more than a friend. you looked into his eyes and nodded, unable to respond, but knowing he would understand. "you're the best person in the world."

"d'you have plans for tomorrow?" he asks after a long period of silence. you already had your eyes closed, about to doze off on his shoulder, nodding calmly was all response you had energy to give. "cancel them and come with me to wimborne." you open your eyes in a jump, getting up and leaving his embrace. that was one of the best and worst things about james potter: he always had unexpected plans.

it was fun, but there was always that tone in his voice, as if you were obliged to do what he said, never a request, always an order. the real problem was that you could never bring yourself to complain, any plans he had with you, any time you could spend with him was enough, because you were the other woman, you had to accept his conditions, adapt to his schedule and his… needs. you did feel like trash many times, used, especially when he disappeared for weeks and only showed up when he needed to hook up with someone and his girlfriend was somehow unavailable. but you had loved him since before you were fifteen, and you couldn't help it, it was your impromptu response, always, to just let him make you a fool for his attention.

"i do need to know some info before, y'know?," despite wanting to go because you loved traveling with james, there were some different concerns since the last time you had done it together. "how long do you plan to stay? and what happened to your girlfriend? what if someone sees us?" you take a deep breath after pouring out all the questions without pause, and james smiled sweetly, putting one of your hair strands behind your ear.

"the weekend, we'll be back sunday afternoon," he began, and you knew he already knew you would go either way, just by the way he spoke. "wimbourne's proposal was made over letter, i'm going to study it better, talk to the directors, and make sure if this is really good f'me." james sounded calm, irritatingly calm and confident, but you kept your mouth shut, the two most important questions still remained unanswered, you cross your arms and wait for him to do it so. "lily went to spend a few days with her friends, said she wasn't in the mood to look at my face after the fight. and no one will see us, i swear." you rolled my eyes and sighed, throwing your arms up in the air, total defeated, making him laugh.

"i'll pack then," you shrugged and got up, feeling his arms hug you from behind and his lips tracing a trail of kisses between your shoulder and your neck, making you shiver and turn abruptly, sealing your lips in an initially calm kiss, but you both knew where that would lead.

james paused the kiss just to throw you over his shoulder, forcing you to hold back a scream and then burst into laughter in a way that probably all the neighbours heard, and you were carried to the bedroom, where he threw you on your bed and took his shirt off, soon returning to where you had stopped minutes before.

you were having breakfast calmly while james took his shower, having someone serve you breakfast in bed reminded you of when you lived with your mother, and you were loving it. it was already saturday morning, and you had spent the entire previous day walking around town, getting to know the home of one of the most famous quidditch teams in your country; you went to the minster and saw the chained library, the astronomy clock, the small local museum and the adorable model town.

then you both just kept going into every place that served coffee you could find. the rest of the afternoon was spent comparing which coffee was better and as a result, you arrived at the hotel more excited than usual, talking loudly and making senseless jokes that made you both laugh scandalously. anyone who saw you would think you were drunk.

obviously, after so much caffeine, you stayed awake all night and unlike what would normally happen, you and james just talked, snuggling lightly, as if you were sixteen again. you felt heavenly, still not quite believing that such a thing was happening; it was as if he had finally noticed that you were the person for him, that you deserved the girlfriend title, and that brought you joy so immense nothing could ruin.

"what you eating?" he asked, a towel wrapped around his waist, and you could see his chest still wet from the shower, but honestly, that wasn't sexier than james messing with his wet hair frantically so that it wouldn't get too messy, or maybe to mess it up even more.

"toast, come eat," you felt your eyes tear up as you yawned loudly, you were tired, too tired. you still hadn't slept, neither had he, and you had both taken a shower to wake up, but it didn't seem to have worked. "when's the wimbourne waps' meeting?"

"toast, just toast? i'm an athlete; i need much more than that." james complains in the most whiny of ways, but takes the toast you were about to eat from your hand and takes a big bite, sitting on the bed still wet. "dinner tonight; apologize in advance for leaving you alone." his lips form a pout, and you roll your eyes laughing, pulling his face against yours and giving him a quick kiss. "oh! i have a surprise, miss!" tremendous curiosity invades you but still it doesn't stop the laughter that comes from your lips when you see him putting more of the toast in his mouth than he could actually chew.

"nitwit." you lightly slap his arm, and he spits out part of what was in his mouth with the scare. "potter! gross!" you shout in disgust and leave the bed running, but soon he comes after you, pulling you by the arm against his chest. you smile and look into his eyes, "what's the surprise?"

"look in the black suitcase while I put on at least some pants." you agree with a nod and leave the embrace, going towards the suitcase and you can hear his steps going in the opposite direction where he left his clothes.

you open the suitcase with great expectations, having no idea what it could be because james is, in fact, very good at surprises, so you never really know what to expect from him. you see the contents of the suitcase, and for a second, you feel disappointed, but then you shake your head, slap your right palm on your forehead, and burst into laughter, finally noticing what the fuss was about.

"you brought your wizard's chess set?" incredulously you ask, still laughing as you turn to him, already dressed, a smile on his face.

"of course! i hardly have time to play at home, and i like playing with you; it gets my ego going." he shrugs and takes the board on his hands, putting over the bed instead of the table, so you both would be comfortable.

"i'm not that bad!" you complain loudly, making a face and taking the chess pieces to him, so he could set it up.

"yes, you are." you huff but decide not to complain. it had been a long time since you had spent time like this, being teenagers, and you were loving every second of it.

unfortunately, the weekend had flown by, proving that as everyone says, all good things come to an end because all you wanted was to spend the rest of your life in that b&b, in that town with james by your side. on a happier note, james seemed to finally have his focus solely on you, and he was also virtually decided to accept wimbourne's offer; everything seemed to be falling into place.

yet he seemed bothered by something as you both arrive at your building, so you sigh and look at him. taking one of of his hands swiftly and kissing one of his cheeks, asking if something had happened. he simply smiled weakly and shrugged.

"nothing honey, just in a bit of a hurry."

"hurry? you're not coming up with me?" you were obviously sad with that, but try to ignore it, knowing that he probably had practice. however, you soon notice that, unlike what you wished for, time hadn't stopped, and it was already sunday evening.

"can't, lily's already home by now." your heart felt like it was going to implode; lily, as always, was the priority, not you, not your company, and the weekend for him hadn't meant a third of what it had meant to you.

you muster strength from unknown places to you and smile, holding back tears.

"i understand! see you later, then." you let go of his hand, open the car door and get out, looking back only to open the back door and grab the only suitcase you had taken. he doesn't say anything, he doesn't move.

you leave your suitcase in some corner of your flat, still trying to hold back tears. but as soon as you pass by the picture frame with a moving photo of you both from five years ago, you break down completely.

sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, you berate yourself for being stupid enough to think that he had changed. you end up spending hours there, without moving, just crying as hard as you could, and you come to a conclusion.

loving is pain.

#marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #james x reader #james x you #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x you #lari writes sometimes #i did proofread this but hm--

[reginaphalange2403]

Experience

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You accidentally hurt yourself and Steve awkwardly has to help you out

Warnings: minor injury, angst/arguing, protective Steve rogers, enemies to lovers vibes kinda. pls read a/n 

a/n: my first Steve fic! I hope I did him justice lol. Obviously most of this is not canon, so lets just pretend everyone in the mcu is alive and happy, cause that's how they are in my head anyway :D also, this is kinda goofy but I guess I was in a goofy mood so here we are.

“Alright, I buddied you all up in pairs for the hotel rooms” Tony announced as the 7 of you all gathered in the lobby of the hotel he had booked. You had just finished up with a mission in Chicago, but ended up having to stay the night there so that you could appear at a press conference the next morning.

“Really Tony?” You glared at him, “You’re a billionaire and you couldn’t splurge this once so we could each get our own room?”

“Just cause I have money, doesn’t mean I don’t like to save,” he quipped, “besides, we’re all a team here, I figured you’d be fine sharing. Anyway, I’ll bunk with Banner, Sam you’re with Bucky, and Y/N, uh I guess you’re with Cap”

Your eyes widened at hearing you’d be rooming with Steve. “What about Nat?” You asked, wondering why you couldn’t just room with her, considering you were the only two girls. 

“Nat got her own room” Tony explained, and you looked over at Natasha who just shrugged,

“I knew he’d do this, so I usually call ahead of time and just book my own room myself.” 

“Genius” You whispered with a tad of jealousy.

Finally, you glanced at Steve, who looked as equally not-thrilled to be sharing a room with you. You were the newest member to the team and ever since you joined, you’d hadn’t had the greatest rapport with Mr. Captain America. You weren’t the type of person who liked to follow orders, and on missions, you typically wanted to do your own thing instead of listen to Cap’s directions over the comms. This led to a lot of bickering back and forth between the two of you, as Steve often thought you were reckless and a danger to yourself. Meanwhile, you thought he could be bossy and entitled, expecting you to just listen to him because he was older. 

“Ill take the bed by the window” Steve mumbled as he opened the door after the silent walk up to your hotel room. 

“Fine” You gripped, setting your things down on the other bed. As you did so, you winced a little at the pain in your wrist. You had probably twisted it at some point during the battle. It wasn’t serious, but it was an annoying ache. 

Hearing your little wince, Steve looked up at you from across the room and noticed you examining your wrist.

“Wouldn’t a’ happened if you had just listened to me” he tutted under his breath. 

Your head snapped over at him, “Seriously?!”

“Yeah, seriously.” Steve’s eyes turned a little colder, “This is a team Y/N, you can’t just start going rouge in the middle of a battle. I make a battle plan for a reason! And you just complete ignore my instructions over comms!”

“I knew what I was doing!” You snapped back at him, “I was completely in control until you sent Bucky over to ‘rescue’ me” you dramatically put quotes around ‘rescue’, “which was unnecessary and totally delayed the mission!”

“I had to!” Steve practically yelled, “You weren’t responding when I kept asking for a status and I had no idea where you were!”

“Why does it matter? You let Natasha do whatever she wants on missions, and she hardly ever speaks over comms and yet you’re never up her ass about it!”

“Because I trust Nat!” Steve’s confession took you aback a little, letting a few seconds of silence hang in the air.

“Oh so that’s it? You don’t trust me?” You were furious, and Steve could tell.

“Shit,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, “Y/N that’s not what I meant, I just-“

“Whatever” you cut him off, “I’m getting in the shower” You grab your pajamas and walk into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

——

While you let the hot water wash away the dirt and sweat that had accumulated from fighting, you opened the tiny little complementary soap bar provided by the hotel, placing it on the rim so you could use it in a moment. 

While washing your hair however, you failed to notice the soap slip from the rim and slide down the tub, landing near your feet. This came to bite you in the ass unfortunately, as you finished rinsing your hair you took a step back and slipped on the bar, your feet coming out from under you. Your shoulder and head took most of the fall, hitting the side of the tub hard. 

“Fuck!” You cursed, gasping as you felt the pain slowly creep into your upper arm. You had probably dislocated your shoulder, and maybe cracked a rib too by the way you were feeling.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” You heard Steve yell from right outside the door, his voice laced with concern- which was something you had never heard him direct towards you. 

“No” You called back, “I slipped in the shower and hit my head, and I think I dislocated my shoulder”

You looked around, seeing if there was something you could grab onto to help pull yourself up, but there was no handle or anything. And your arm with the bum wrist was closest to the rim, but unfortunately, you didn’t have enough strength there to be able to push yourself with just that wrist. Realizing the slight predicament you were in, you explained to Steve,

“I think you’re gonna have to help me up”

Always ready to be of assistance, Steve immediately started turning the door handle until you yelled again,

“Wait wait no! Steve you can’t just come in here!”

“What? You just asked me to, you need help!”

“I’m in the shower…Im naked Steve” you said as if it should’ve been obvious.

It was almost as if you could hear the blush creep onto Steve’s face as he clued in “Oh…right…well what am I supposed to do?”

“You’re gonna have to close your eyes, and I’ll just direct you”

A few seconds passed until you heard a hesitant ‘okay’ from him.

He started to open the door again, “Promise you’ll have ‘em closed!” You quickly shouted before he came all the way in.

“I swear Y/N, they’re closed!” He finally opened the door, and true to his word, his eyes were completely clamped shut. 

“Okay, now just walk straight until you feel the curtain, pull it back and turn off the water” You instructed him, as Steve walked forward with his arms outstretched and yanked the shower curtain back, his hand quickly found the nozzle and he turned the water off.

You reached your arm out to Steve, “I’m reaching my hand out towards you, so you can help me up” He quickly found it, clasping his hand in yours and crouching down lower to you. 

As he helped you stand, your other arm instinctively came out and grabbed his forearm so you wouldn’t fall. 

“Sorry” You mumbled, realizing you were getting him wet. 

“It’s alright” he said softly, sounding sincere, his eyes still very much closed. You had to hold back a laugh as you stood completely naked in front of Steve Rogers, whose face was a deep crimson and just as embarrassed as you were despite not even being able to see you.

“Can you turn around and hand me a towel? They’re right behind you” 

You quickly wrapped the towel around yourself, “I guess you can open your eyes now”

Steve did as you said, and his attention quickly fixed on your lopsided shoulder that clearly wasn’t symmetrical with the other one. 

“You should probably get checked out for that”

“Of course I manage to get through a fight unscathed but have to injure myself in the shower” you grumbled, trying to haphazardly dry yourself off without exposing yourself to Steve. He smiled sympathetically at you, the first smile you had possibly ever gotten from him.

“Can you turn around for a sec?” You asked him, “I need to change”

Steve did as he was told, and you grabbed your clothes from off the counter, managing to slip your sweatpants on easily and somehow clasp your bra. Your shirt however, was proving difficult. With your fucked up shoulder and sore wrist, you couldn’t quite figure out how to get your arms through the sleeves without causing yourself a lot of pain.

“Steve?” You swallowed, embarrassed to have to ask him for help again, but it wasn’t like you could walk into the hospital shirtless. 

“Hm?” He hummed, still facing away from you.

“I need some help putting my shirt on, you can turn back around”

Steve turned to see you standing there with just your bra on and gray sweatpants, wet hair framing your face and falling down your shoulders, getting your chest damp as well. Seeing you in this state caused his face to flush bright red once again and he gulped, not being able to help himself from just staring.

“Steve! My shirt” You snapped him out of it, and he finally took the shirt you were holding out for him.

“Alright um,” he began, not too sure how to go about this, “Put your good arm through here”

Steve then gently guided the other sleeve over your injured arm, which you held closely to your side. As the tight fabric pulled over your shoulder, you swore under your breath.

“Sorry, sorry” Steve apologized quickly. Once he was finished, you headed past him out of the bathroom, slipping on some shoes and grabbing your phone.

“Im just gonna get an uber to the hospital” You said as Steve came out of the bathroom after you.

“Hold on, just let me get my coat” He said absentmindedly.

“What? I can go by myself Steve” You looked at him pointedly. 

“Im sure you can, but you’re not going to” he glared, “you’re not getting in an uber this late at night by yourself. And didn’t you say you hit your head too? What if you have a concussion? It’s not safe to go by yourself.”

“I doubt I have a concussion” you rolled your eyes, but truth be told, he might be right. Your head was killing you, and you had started to feel nauseous. “You don’t have to baby me all the time, I can manage on my own”

“Well considering you couldn’t even get dressed by yourself, I find that hard to believe” Steve muttered, “and this isn’t about me baby-ing you, I’m looking out for you. When are you gonna get that through your head? Im coming” With that, you knew his decision was made and nothing you said could change it.

The beginning of the Uber ride was mostly quiet, you started out the window for the most part and missed how Steve kept glancing over at you to see if you were alright. Only a few minutes in, you started to shiver. You couldn’t help it; your hair was still soaking wet and the Uber driver had the AC blasting for some reason. The adrenaline of getting hurt was also starting to wear off, meaning the pain was starting to set in more. Your shoulder was killing you and your head was pounding. 

Steve immediately noticed when you start to shake involuntarily, and without saying anything, he slipped off his own coat and slid it around your back, as you only had on a thin long sleeve shirt. You mumbled a thanks.

Finally, you were seated in the surprisingly empty waiting room and told you would be seen shortly. 

“I do trust you” You looked over at Steve, 

“Huh?”

“I do trust you” he spoke a little louder, lifting his head to look at you. You suddenly remembered the argument from earlier and what he was referring to.

“Then why do you treat me like I can’t be left alone?” You asked him quietly

Steve shrugged, “Maybe its cause your new, maybe its cause I feel like it’s my job to look out for everyone…” He swallowed, looking down before continuing,  “Maybe its cause I don’t feel the same way with you as I do the others”

It look you a moment to realize what he was implying. “Well you have an interesting way of going about showing it” You smiled.

Steve finally looked up at you, smiling slightly as well, “Sorry. Im usually not the best with this sort of thing. Any experience I have dates back to 1940” He chuckled lightly

“That’s okay” You stated softly, “Theres always room for more experiences” 

Right after you said that you got called back. Steve went through with you and waited patiently as you were seen. They were able to pop your shoulder back in without needing surgical intervention, which Steve held your hand through though you didn’t ask him to. They also gave you a significant amount of pain medication, leaving Steve to have to haul your loopy, giggly self back to the hotel.

After carefully helping you into bed, he placed a bottle of water and more pain medication on your bedside table in case you needed it in a few hours. 

“Hmm thanks Steve” you mumbled dreamily. 

Steve just chuckled softly before turning around to get in his own bed,

“Wait” you lazily reached out for him, “you can get in my bed. It’s cold in here”

While Steve would have loved to crawl in next to you, it didn’t feel right to him. This wasn’t you, you were hopped up on pain meds. In the morning you probably wouldn’t remember this and be confused as to why he was in your bed.

“I don’t think so” he whispered, squeezing your hand back “but I’ll be right over here, right across from you if you need anything”

Steve then pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, and before he could tell you goodnight again, you were already passed out. 

------

Taglist: @worksby-d​ @gh0stgurl​ @dpaccione​ @patzammit​

#steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #Steve Rogers fluff #Steve Rogers angst #avengers x reader #mcu imagine

[saintsenara]

Since a previous anon brought it up as a comparison, i would love to read what you have to say about the whole "Snape would be infatuated with fem!Harry if she looked like Lily" take. Personally, I think he'd hardly be able to stand the sight of her

i detest this one whenever it does the rounds.

it always seems to hinge on the idea that it's "canon" that snape would be sexually violent towards a fem!harry who looked like lily - which annoys me because it's a complete misreading of snape's character in order to amp up how negatively the person accusing him wants him to be perceived which simultaneously manages to undermine this aim by suggesting that his actions in the book aren't bad enough, and so he has to become a creep at best and a rapist at worst so that everyone knows he's a properly horrible man...

so i think it's trite. and i also think it's just obviously wrong.

in the books, snape is clearly upset by any aspect of harry’s appearance or personality which reminds him of lily.

there are multiple instances in canon in which harry glares at him and snape quickly looks away, which we are clearly supposed to understand once we have the reveal of snape's motivations at the end of deathly hallows as happening because the sight of anger in lily eyes upsets and ashames him - especially because it stops him from soothing and deflecting his grief over lily-via-her-son by focusing on harry's resemblance to his father and pretending that he's like james alone.

harriet potter, if she walks into potions with long red hair and big green eyes, is getting totally, utterly ignored for seven years. nothing more, nothing less.

#asks answered #harry potter #severus snape

[whipitgod]

Totally Normal, Non Romantic Bro Moment

Dean x Castiel

oneshot - wc: 2k

summary: Dean is the only one who doesn’t realize he’s dating Cas

warnings: blatantly and boldly ignoring canon, a little crack-ish as per usual, some light swearing and little bit of spice (they kiss but that’s it)

a/n: Thank you for all the support on the last few oneshots!! this is the first time i’ve ever written for destiel or supernatural so it might be a bit ooc! If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Sammy!” The sound of his brother calling his name makes Sam sit up quickly, having dozed off whilst trying to finish a book he had started ages ago but could never manage to find the time to complete. He pushes himself off his bed with the intent to meet the older Winchester in the kitchen where he heard him yelling from. Before he even has a chance to reach for the door handle the door flies open, Dean entering the room with a startling amount of aggression.

Sam puffs out an irritated breath at the man's behavior, “Of course you can come in-” he pauses slightly taking in the flustered nature of the hunter now pacing back in forth and grumbling quietly to himself; a look of concern crosses Sam’s face, mouth turning down slightly, “Are you alright, did something happen?”

Dean’s head snaps towards him then, looking at him for the first time since he had burst into the room, “Yeah, i’m fine man,” he gets a look on his face like he tasted something bitter before rushing out an agitated, “no actually i’m not fine.” Sam tilts his head slightly at this urging Dean to continue with a wave of his hand; Sam notes that the man has yet to stop pacing.

“Bobby said someth’n weird earlier that's got me thinking,” Dean hesitates for a moment almost like he’s second guessing even bringing it up, “he uh,” another slight pause, brows furrowing, “he seems to think i’m dating Cas.” he takes a deep breath after he says this, a common action when he gets too worked up over something.

The younger Winchesters' brows crease in confusion at this, Dean taking this as a sign that his brother finds the notion absurd lets out a relieved breath. His relief is only short lived, Sam shaking his head slightly before questioning, “Is that it?” Dean's expression hardens, agitation returning and causing his shoulders to tense.

“The hell do you mean ‘is that it’, this is a big deal!”

Sam lets out a small laugh at his brother's frustration, “Was he not accepting?”

The anger leaves Deans features, a look of confusion taking it’s place, “The fuck does that mean?”

“Was he not accepting of your relationship with cas?” Sam now wears a look of confusion mirroring Dean’s. The older man stops pacing at this question, brows furrowing even further than Sam thought possible.

“What relationship?” The anger gone from Dean’s voice, tone now mired in confusion.

Sam looks at his brother like he’s lost his mind, “The relationship you have with Cas,” he searches Dean’s face for any sign that the man is joking, not finding any he pushes on, “You guys have been dating for months.”

Dean seems to short circuit at this, blinking several times before letting out a disbelieving scoff, “I am not dating Cas,” a nervous laugh escapes him, “That’s insane, I knew you were crazy but not that crazy.”

Sam stares blankly at him and Dean rushes to continue, “I mean the idea of Cas and I dating is laughable,” another nervous laugh accompanied by a growing redness in his face, “Why would you even think that?”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the question, a sharp bark of laughter leaving him before he can stop it. He tries again to find any sign that his brother is joking but the man's expression is steely, jaw clenched in frustration, “Oh wow, you’re serious.” At this Dean lets out an angry huff opening his mouth to start speaking before closing it again, teeth grinding together.

“For starters, you guys act like an old married couple all the time,” Dean opens his mouth to disagree but Sam cuts him off, “you guys also frequently gaze into each other's eyes for extended periods of time.”

“We do not!”

“Just last week you guys had a whispered discussion before staring into each other's eyes for five minutes,” Dean’s expression turns contemplative, “five minutes might not be accurate actually,” Sam thinks for a moment, “It was probably longer, I didn't stand around to time it.”

Dean releases an irritated noise before rushing to defend himself, “We were having a moment!” Sam’s expression turns amused at the sentence and Dean jumps to amend it, “A bro moment! A totally normal, non romantic bro moment!”

Sam quirks a brow at this, a teasing smile threatening to overcome his features. Dean lets out another frustrated sound, “It’s a normal dude thing, it’s what pals do!” Sam kind of wants to let Dean continue floundering, if only to see how many synonyms he can find for the word ‘bro’; he decides against it, deciding to put Dean out of his misery.

With a gentle sigh the younger man pushes himself up so he’s sitting fully upright, “Bobby and I aren't the only ones who think you guys are together,” He thinks for a moment, “Actually, I'm pretty sure you are the only one that doesn't think you guys are dating.”

Dean is quiet at this causing him to continue, “I don't know man, it's something you should think about,” Sam stands and walks over to the door with the intent to find something for dinner, “maybe you should talk to cas about this.'' With that he pulls the door open not waiting for the other man to respond, and without sparing another glance in Dean’s direction he walks down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Dean stands motionless for a few minutes before managing to snap himself out of the daze the conversation had left him in. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he makes the short trek to his own bedroom; Closing the door behind him and letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, he lets his mind wander to memories of all of the interactions he and Cas had had recently.

Sure they were close, their relationship probably closer than most other mens, but that didn't mean they were together! Sure they had kissed a few times when they were both a little too drunk but that didn't mean anything! It was normal to kiss your bro when you had a few too many. This line of thinking does nothing to quell the internal turmoil he was feeling; his mind now stuck on memories of the kisses they had shared on rare occasions that were never discussed once they were sober.

Dean huffs a bitter laugh, “I don't even like men.” The phrase feels wrong as it leaves his mouth. He had never really given much thought to whether or not he liked men, but now that he was thinking about it he’s met with a startling realization, “Oh god, do i?”

He thinks back to all of the men that he had ever found attractive, the ones he was a bit too fascinated by; having written off the fascination as a friendly interest at the time, he finds himself realizing that some of the interest really wasn't all that friendly.

His mind wanders to cas, remembering all of the things they had done together that had, at the time, seemed innocent and friendly; now that he’s looking back on them they seem to be a little bit too intimate to be friendly. There was also that one dream he had a few weeks back that had made being around cas very awkward for a few days, the memory of the dream alone making his face heat up. He loses track of the amount of time he stays lost in thought, his mind spinning in circles as he thinks about the dynamic he has with the angel.

He reaches a conclusion that makes him suck in a sharp breath, “Oh god, i'm in love with cas.” It comes out as a disbelieving whisper. He doesn't know what to do with realization but now that he’s said it outloud it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

A Few Days Earlier

Dean can’t help but watch Cas's side profile as the man takes another swig from the almost empty bottle of whiskey; Dean had tapped out before the bottle had even been opened, the angel needing way more alcohol than Dean could stomach to even get a buzz. The hunter isn’t quite sure how many bottles of assorted liquor cas had drunk at this point but it was clear the man was feeling the effects of them, his eyes a little droopy as if he was struggling to see clearly. Dean wasn’t in much better shape, his eyes struggling to focus as he watched the angel’s Adam's apple bob as he drank. Without realizing that he was even moving he reached up and grabbed the bottle from Cas's hands, taking a quick drink of it before setting it down in front of them.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Dean's tone is light when he says this, almost teasing. Cas meets his eyes with a dazed smile and Dean’s eyes get stuck on the curve of his lips.

He wants to kiss him. The thought doesn't scare him like he thinks it should, he supposes it wouldn't be the first drunken kiss the pair had shared; alcohol acting as a cover for the real emotions at play that Dean really didn't want to deal with.

Before he can think better of it he leans in, cas letting out a surprised noise as their lips meet before melting into the kiss. The thought that they shouldn’t be doing this crosses Dean's mind but he stamps it down quickly when he feels cas reach up and tangle his fingers in his hair. They stay like that until dean pulls away slightly to suck in a few panting breaths, their foreheads stay touching as they stare into each other's eyes. Dean remembers, bitterly, that tomorrow this would become another one of the little moments that he's too afraid to discuss. With that floating around his head he leans back in with a little bit more force than necessary, their teeth clacking together as their mouths meet.

Present Day

He blinks away the memory, shaking his head slightly and digging in his pocket for his phone, he finds cas’s contact and hesitates for a moment before hitting the call button. The sound of the phone ringing does nothing to calm the anxiety he’s feeling but before he can second guess himself cas picks up.

Cas answers the phone with a soft, “Hello?” and dean feels his heart in his throat.

“I think I'm in love with you.” He had not meant to blurt it out like that, and he curses quietly to himself as he waits for Cas's response.

“I mean it would be kind of weird if you weren’t given that we’re dating.”

Dean pauses at this, a flood of emotions hitting him and causing him to let out a sound reminiscent of a gasp, “What?”

“We’re dating,” there's a pause from cas and the rustle of papers being moved, dean briefly wonders what he’s doing before he realizes what the man had said. Dean's mouth opens and shuts a few times as he struggles to find the appropriate words.

Cas continues speaking, seemingly oblivious to the internal struggle that Dean is having, “We had a date a few days ago,” more rustling, “we got pizza and then got drunk and made out.”

Dean is at a loss for words, he lets out a choked sound before starting to laugh, the kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt. It takes him a minute to regain his composure, wiping a tear that had escaped during the laughing fit he takes a deep breath before responding, “Yeah i guess we did.”

“Are you feeling alright?” The question sounds so sincere it almost causes Dean to spiral into laughter again but he manages to hold it in.

The hunter pauses for a moment thinking about the question, “Yeah,” he’s smiling so hard his cheeks are starting to hurt, “i’m great.”

#supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #spn #destiel #misha collins #jensen ackles #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #dean winchester fic #castiel fic #destiel fluff #destiel crack #ooc #not cannon compliant #balls deep destiel #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction #destiel fandom #destiel forever #destiel supernatural #supernatural fic #sam winchester #supernatural fluff #supernatural au #au #tropes #writers on tumblr

[broken-heart-raven-queen]

One thing that I know for sure is that if Renee was a man Jerejean wouldn't be so popular and a lot of people would be sad that Jeanee is not end game.

I thought of it the day Lazarus came out and people on twitter went crazy "discovering" that they are a couple, that they have real feelings, that Renee really cared for Jean (Most people probably ignored the fact that they were already something in canon).

Don't take me wrong, I like JereJean as an end game couple, I feel like it's good for Jean to have someone who can show him the brightness of the world because he never saw the true darkness in it and is so far from the horrible things that Jean lived that he can talk (or not) about it how he wants and Jeremy would listen. Also I'm a sucker for emo x preppy ships.

But I just know that maybe if Renee wasn't a girl maybe TSC wouldn't even exist (as I know that part of the fuel for Nora to make peace with the writing was the impact the story had on people) or maybe it would anyways because there was still something to tell about them but it would be totally different... or maybe this version always was in Nora's mind but people would have been so mean because "Why is this man who is nobody and came out of the blue getting in the middle of this perfect couple??" And maybe she wouldn't want to share it with us.

For me is so weird that a fandom with so many women in it hates female characters so much that are happy to gaslight themselves to errase their participation in canon or to make it a completely different thing (as happens with Thea) just to have another m/m ship.

And I know Renee is a very liked character in general and this story contributed to her popularity, and maybe the people that follows me here or who would read this post already thought highly of her, but anyways this was in my head for the last few days and wanted to share it.

P. S: This applies too for when Nora said she and Andrew were fuckbuddies if it were a man there wouldn't have been so many hate to that idea (like people usually don't hate Roland specifically for this, maybe some do for the age difference but that's another talk).

#aftg #all for the game #aftg brainrot #nora sakavic #jean moreau #renee walker #jeanee #jerejean #jeremy knox #tsc

[dylawas-reblogs]

Larian is wrong. Gale does not have a six pack. Gale does not have abs. Let me propose what's really going on with that dude.

First, let's look at the fighting style of the wizard. Yeah, they have a quarterstaff, but those are usually a last resort defense and not a primary form of attack. You still want to have the upper body strength to swing one around that's decently enough made to not snap like a twig if you've got to defend from an axe in a pinch, so they're not light, but it's not like he's bench pressing with the thing either. He's also not twirling it like a baton, or using it in a martial manner like a monk would, but that's where the other component of a wizard's fight style comes in; casting spells.

I'm not going to pretend I fully know/understand all the intricacies of magic and spellcasting in the Forgotten Realms, I play DND but we ignore that spell component bullshit. Somatic and verbal components still matter, but material? Ppf. Fuck that. All that is to say, take what I'm gonna suggest with a heap of salt.

Pretty much every spell in existence has a somatic component, meaning you move your arms and hands in a certain way to make it happen. So wizards may not be doing much heavy lifting, but they're still moving their arms a lot. Probably having to brace themselves to cast more powerful spells, too. And you can still very much build some muscle tone even if you're not throwing around bags of sand. Gymnasts and swimmers come to mind in this particular instance. Like yes I'm sure they train in other ways (and I know they rely on core and leg strength way more) but you can't tell me none of their increased arm strength comes from doing their actual sport.

And hell, as I was typing that out, maybe wizards do have arm-specific strength building exercises they do outside of spell casting. At the very least they're doing some hyper specific things with their wrists and fingers. Violinists do finger strength building exercises. That's totally not out of the question. It's likely, really.

Posture is also important for a wizard, not just because good posture keeps you alive in most dangerous circumstances in general, but it keeps you properly balanced to cast, and cast accurately. Given Gale's reprieve from the public eye for a year, though, this aspect has admittedly probably taken a little hit, and changes in posture can change the way a body's weight is distributed. And I want to make it very clear-- I don't think this man is thin. Especially not now, not with time and age. But I also don't think he completely stopped keeping up with his spellcasting, either. He'd want to keep his mind, tongue, and fingers sharp. This man doesn't do core exercises, mind, but he probably only spent the first few... Weeks? Maybe a month or two-- wallowing. You can take the wizard out of the spells, but you can't take the spells out of the wizard. He was trained to cast with efficiency and precision, and he'll keep doing that, so his posture, and therefore core strength, wouldn't completely lapse. In short, tummy plush, but likely not round.

Now, everything beneath the belly isn't as important for a wizard's needs, so I'm going to skim past them a little to get to my conclusion, but to summarize, if he has cake it's not because he was doing squats, if his thighs are thick it's not because of muscle, and we all know this man's knees are dogshit. There's a reason one of his canon lines is, "Given my propensity towards verbosity, it surely can't be a surprise that I have a practiced tongue." Suureee bud you can use that as your excuse for being a cunning linguist instead of your knees.

In conclusion, all of this is to get to the point that Gale does not have abs. Gale is, in fact, closer to dadbod, with some pretty decent upper body strength.

Oh yeah and he's hairy. I don't make the rules sorry.

#dylawa rambles #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #baldur's gate 3 gale #baldurs gate 3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #i honestly have no idea what body positivity tags this post wants or needs #but we love dadbod gale