#i'm not tagging this as anything else or i'll never get peace

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (II)

Reader is cozying up to her unusual home, and her new friend decides to surprise her with a romantic gift. Or at least what he considers to be romantic: a small reminder that no one else can mess with her. Continuation to the yakuza landlord idea!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Content: Female reader, obsessive behavior, mentions of stalking, violence, death, mild gore

Tags: @depressed-but-make-it-cute

You search for your keys and open the postal box, retrieving a thick envelope. You've been living at the new apartment for several weeks now and truth be told, you could get used to this lifestyle. Your commute to work is much shorter, the path is never devoid of people, and there are multiple bakeries on the way back with some of the best pastries you've tasted in your life.

You turn around and look for Daitou, somewhat distracted and dreamy. It really feels like a Hallmark movie. A peaceful, idyllic life. Ah, there he is! The scarred man is standing guard before one of the stores. The curtains have been pulled, blocking any glimpse of the inside. You walk towards him with a certain joyful bounce in your step. As you approach him, you can hear muffled screams coming from the building. He notices you and flashes you a smile. 

"Don't come too close, I hear the owner's been avoiding his loan payment and getting all friendly with the neighboring Family. We're questioning him in the back."

"Don't you usually do the interrogations?" 

"Only if we don't need them afterwards. I'm not too good at keeping them alive, ya know?" He scratches the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"

You open your mouth to speak, but it's a little difficult to formulate a full sentence with the interrupted moans and cries occasionally making their way out. The door is ajar and you avoid glancing in its direction, fixating on the man before you. 

"I...uh... just wanted to know if this letter is intended for me or the landlord. It looks like an official document."

You show Daitou the envelope and just as he is about to grab it, he notices the blood stains seeped into his glove. He quickly removes it, wipes his hand on his shirt, and nonchalantly plucks the paper from your fingers.

"That's for Boss. I'll pass it on, so don't worry."

You nod and bow slightly before hurrying back home. Well, doesn't make it less of a movie, you suppose. Just more of a thriller. Or something like that. You drop your bag, slip off your shoes and throw yourself onto the futon with a loud thud. The warmth of the sheets envelops you and the wails of the shop owner become but a distant dream. 

Without the worry of stalkers, or finding a roof above your head, you can finally rest. 

Tonight is rather dark, with the moon shrouded in heavy clouds. Daitou yawns silently as he observes the masked man testing out passcodes for the entrance. Every now and then he lets out a whispered curse, crossing out another number combination on his little crumpled note. It doesn't take a genius to figure out this is the famed stalker you'd complained about earlier. No one else currently lives in the building. 

Eventually, the keypad lights up and the door unlocks. The mysterious man lifts a fist victoriously and reaches for the handle. 

"Oop! Not so fast!" Daitou drops his heavy, sinewy arm over the man's shoulders, pulling him in a friendly embrace. Like two old pals meeting at an intersection. "Let's take a walk together, what do you say? (Y/N) sleeps until noon on weekends, no need to hurry."

With a grunt, the stalker tries to shove himself out of the tightening hold, but the yakuza doesn't budge. He towers over his new friend with an unfaltering, unbothered grin. 

"Now listen, I don't blame you one bit, ya know? I ain't blind, at least not in this eye", he continues as he points to the real counterpart of his glass prosthetic, "so I'm damn well aware of a pretty girl when I see one. And (Y/N)? That's some good taste alright." 

He gives the man an affectionate pat over the chest, pulling him away from the building into one of the side streets. 

"If you want, we can have a drink before the deed, I know a good place five minutes from here. We can share some stories of our favorite girl, eh?" Daitou looks at his watch, feigning mild concern. "But I'm afraid you're not leaving this neighborhood either way. In one piece, that is." 

His arm goes limp and the masked man is released from the iron hold, tripping over from the sudden lack of support. He crawls against a wall and fumbles for something, swiftly pulling out what seems to be a pocket knife. His breathing is erratic and he points the tip of the blade towards the yakuza, now with his features darkened by a frown. He sounds like an entirely different person and the instant switch to a ragged voice startles the stranger.

"See, the trouble is, I promised miss (Y/N) I wouldn't allow a fucking dog like you to be in her presence ever again. Sadly for you, I'm a man of my word." Despite the threatening tone, his posture is relaxed and he stands before the stalker with his hands bare. 

"If I were you, I'd use that little butter knife on my own throat. I don't go easy on horny cockroaches. Especially the ones that mess with my woman." His final words spill out in a bitter growl. 

A small animal in the trashing jaws of a predator. Blood splatters and pools in the asphalt cracks and drained hands claw at the walls, hoping for an escape. As despair sinks in, the alleyway becomes quiet again, save for the merry whistle of the remaining party. Daitou carefully ties the trash bags with the focus of a child wanting to impress the parents with a chore well done. Halfway through he stops and gasps, surprised.

"Oh man, did I really just say 'my woman'? How embarrassing." He blushes and shyly pushes the wrapped slabs away. "I haven't even asked her out yet, ya know? Better not rat me out, Mr. Stalker." He snickers at his monologue and continues the cleanup. 

"Can you really not refrain yourself from smoking in here?" You try to fan away the puff of smoke, scowling at the young blonde man sitting across the table. 

"Why do you even care so much?" Kazuya groans and stuffs the remains of the cigarette in the ashtray.

"I don't want my carrot cake tasting like tobacco. You're lucky the old man is afraid of you, otherwise you would've gotten your ass banned a long time ago."

"You know, I've been thinking about it lately - haven't you gotten quite the attitude? You have a big mouth for someone surrounded by dangerous gangsters. I could blow your brains out right now." 

He lowers himself in his seat and briefly lifts his shirt, flashing a carelessly tucked in gun. He stares at you for a few seconds, as if expecting a reaction, then lets out a chuckle upon seeing your indifferent expression. 

"Shameless. You could at least try to pretend you don't know I have a soft spot for you."

"Just a wild guess, but your Boss probably wouldn't appreciate you shooting civilians in the middle of a café. That's all." You respond with a shrug. 

Your banter is interrupted by Daitou's heavy footsteps nearing in your direction. Kazuya waves, signaling your location, and kicks a chair out, inviting his friend to join. 

"Where the hell were you last night? I thought you'd come with us for drinks after that long ass questioning."

"Sorry, I had to take care of something." Daitou returns an apologetic smile and tilts his head to gaze at you. "Which reminds me, I brought you this."

Your eyes widen in surprise and a faint red tints your cheeks. Was there some special occasion you didn't know about? He places a small box in your hands and leans back in his chair with a cheerful smirk on his face. Kazuya watches the interaction, equally curious as you. 

You open the mysterious gift, giddy with anticipation. The nauseating smell abruptly invades your nostrils and you can feel the contents of your stomach bubble up and pile at the back of your throat. You gag involuntarily and slap your hands over your mouth, as the box tumbles down. A single severed human finger and some teeth glistening with moisture roll out. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Kazuya jumps from his seat, toppling over the table in the process, and lunges at Daitou's throat. The latter can only stare in shock, baffled at a reaction he didn't foresee. There's genuine confusion shaping his features.

"But-...I thought..."

"What the hell did you think, that you'd show up with fucking human remains over some tea and cake?! Jesus, Daitou, she ain't our Lieutenant!"

"But I did- I did tell (Y/N) I'd..." he tries to find you with a pleading, worried look. 

Once the risk of vomiting on the floor has diminished, you shove yourself between the men and gently try to remove Kazuya's arm, still clawed around the other man's throat.

"Let him go, Kazuya. He didn't mean to scare me." You glance at Daitou reassuringly. "Does that mean the stalker guy is now a solved matter?"

The yakuza nods energetically, his eyes now sparkling with pride. He knew you'd understand. Once the tension is lifted, you quickly sweep the gory tokens back into their box and explain the situation to Kazuya. He collapses back in his seat with a frustrated sigh, facepalming himself. 

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I should've told you he's being serious when he says shit like this." He glares at his friend. "She didn't actually expect you to go ahead and do it, dumbass. Couldn't you just mention it or something? 'Hey, I took care of that pervert following you around'! You think she would've demanded proof?"

Daitou is nervously fidgeting with his glass eye, as if searching for the proper words.

"But you always say women will like you more if you surprise them with gifts." He concludes with a pout.

There's a prolonged moment of silence and you burst our laughing, as the blonde simultaneously lets out an exasperated whine. You cannot get over the bizarre sight in front of you: someone as massive and imposing as Daitou, cornered like a punished school boy. 

"See, this is what I've been telling Boss. You're a lost cause." Kazuya rests his elbows on his knees, closing the distance between him and Daitou and continuing with a lecturing tone. "If you got a crush on someone, you bring them flowers or something! What are you, a crackhead? Do I have to teach you basic manners?"

"More importantly, uh...what should I do with these? I guess jewelry made of teeth is a thing, but the finger? Won't it go bad?" you cautiously dangle the package next to your ears, listening to the rustle of its contents. 

Kazuya rips the box from you.

"I'm starting to suspect you don't have all the tiles on your roof either. I'll get rid of it, so you better pretend nothing ever happened. Are we clear?"

Both you and Daitou nod obediently.

On your way back, the man can't help the excitement building up in his chest. You liked his gift, didn't you? He hasn't done anything wrong. Does that make it official, then? As he ponders the implications, he peeks at your small frame, barely managing to keep up with him. Would it be alright if he reached for your hand? Is he supposed to ask first? All these steps confuse him to no end.

Nonetheless, he couldn't be more thankful for you. 

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere yakuza #yakuza x reader #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere mafia #mafia x reader #original work #oc x reader #male yandere x reader #x reader

[toji-girl]

t. fushiguro

original ask: TOJI X CRYBABY GIRLFRIEND‼️ toji being an asshole to his wimpy gf and regretting it instantly..?

tags; fem reader + angst with happy ending + fighting + pet names + repost from my old blog

After a long day of physical work, the only thing that was on Toji's mind was coming home and falling into bed but knew he had to take a shower first to wash away the layer of grime off before getting in the bed.

When you heard the door open you smiled and greeted your boyfriend at the door with an array of facial kisses as you all but melted into his arms causing him to grunt, usually, he loves you being all clingy and all about him but right now he was too tired.

"I need a shower," Toji told you pressing a fleeting kiss to your temple before disappearing down the hallway shedding his clothes not caring about the mess he made as you followed after picking it up.

He expected you to follow him and that only tightened his jaw as he pulled back the curtain with a heavy sigh, one that spoke a weight of pure exhaustion. You kept talking about your day asking about his.

Toji stood under the water watching it circle the drain, his thoughts elsewhere not listening to your gabbing. "Are you even listening? I asked you how your day was baby." Your voice was soft as you peeked your head in the shower to look at him looking at him with pure love.

He turned and looked at you, his face screwed up in irritation. "No, I'm not, can you just shut up for a moment and give me peace? All you do is talk and talk, I've had a long day if you haven't noticed so just leave me alone." His voice was hard as he stared at you, your face filled with hurt as tears gathered in your eyes as you shut the curtain and frowned.

"Shit - I'm sorry babe, I didn't -"

You didn't give him more time to say anything else before you were out of the bathroom with tears streaming down your face, and sure he's snapped at you and vice versa but this time felt different.

The pain was a physical ache that manifested in your belly like a heavy rock as you settled into the bed under the covers hearing the door crack open a few seconds later to reveal Toji clad in his boxers.

"I'm an asshole for speaking to you that way, today was long...but that doesn't give me the right to say what I did, I'm sorry. I'll let you slap me?" He suggested trying to ease the tension that cloaked the both of you.

His footsteps were softened by the carpet as he walked further in to settle on the edge of the bed to peel back the covers to look at you.

Toji knew that ever since you could remember you've been a bit more sensitive than others, crying at movies that weren't sad or even sappy, TV commercials, or seeing a family of animals snuggling.

And he also knew he wasn't good with these types of things, words were not his thing but for you, he was changing his ways and now you were being drawn into his arms, his face nuzzled into your neck.

He dried your tears with his thumbs gazing down at you, his eyes were unreadable. "That was a dick move." You muttered looking away letting him stroke your back with rough fingertips.

"I'm a dickhead at times, I know but I am sorry, I never want to hurt my baby girl." He replied in a softer tone, and you knew he changed, the man you met two years ago, the wall around him was strong and stood fierce but you took it down, brick by brick turning him into a softer man.

You gave into the pull and wrapped your arms around his neck squeezing him. "I love you so much I want to hug your neck with my hands sometimes." You told him causing a chuckle to rumble his chest.

"I love you too and I don't think you're the only one, but you get the first privilege." He teased making you laugh, the air now charged with something else as you both gazed at each other tenderly.

His large hand cupped your cheek bringing your face closer to his to close the distance between your lips. "Let me hear about your day then I'll tell you about mine, but first let me grab something."

You watched as he left only to return with your favorite snacks and drinks before settling back into the bed and pulling you onto his lap to talk about your days and make plans for the weekend.

Toji couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart still at the way he spoke to you, and he knew that you changed him because prior to meeting you hurting people didn't matter to him one bit really but now?

He can't stand seeing you sad or heartbroken, you're his crybaby who he loves so much.

#toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji x you #jjk x you #toji fushiguro x reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

sounds like a date

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.

"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.

"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.

That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.

He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.

Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.

So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.

"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"

"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.

"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.

Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.

Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.

"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.

Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.

"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.

Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.

It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.

It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.

Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."

"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.

"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."

"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.

"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"

Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.

Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.

He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.

Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.

"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.

"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."

"Oh?" Steve froze.

Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.

"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."

Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.

"Sounds like a date."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is sharing food #fluff #established relationship #flirting

[sanguineterrain]

the teeth you know | dick grayson

Summary: The war between the humans and the vampires has lasted for a year now. When you fled Gotham, you thought that would be the last time you'd see the Vampire King and the love of your life, Dick Grayson. You were wrong.

Pairing: vampire king!Dick Grayson x fem!reader. based on the dc vs vampires comics

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: smut!!! 18+ only. oral fem receiving, manipulation, romantic dick, me retconning whatever smarmy little bastard they wrote in dc vs vampires bc that is NOT my dick. dick is literally so gone for you, vampire king or not. themes of death, war, vampires killing humans. if i missed any warnings lmk!

happy almost halloween! follow your dreams and fuck that superhero turned vampire. it'll definitely fix them this time.

the divider

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

Tonight, you dream. 

You don't usually have good dreams. Not since this whole war began. Your dreams are filled with red. Always red, always terrifying. 

Except when he's in them.

The first few times it happened, you yelled at him for intruding on your subconscious. For warping your emotions and making you miss him. He'd laughed at that. 

You should look at yourself a little harder before blaming me. I just appear. You do all the dirty work of missing me, my love.

You're in Gotham in tonight's dream. The old Gotham, of course. Before any bastard undead creatures could suck the life out of your city. Before Dick Grayson haunted your dreams. 

You're on a rooftop ledge, legs dangling. You stare at the harbor. The city's wet from the rain and alive. So alive. You start to cry. 

"Oh, honey," he says, and you cry harder because he sounds exactly like the Dick you knew. 

He keeps his distance, sitting a few feet away. You refuse to look at him, because this is exactly how he gets you to miss him. Dick makes a soft noise when you scrub at your face.

"Have you been eating enough?" he asks, and he almost sounds tender. But you know better. "I'll track down a produce shipment, tell my men to intercept the boat for you."

"Fuck you," you say. "I don't take food out of people's mouths."

Dick edges closer. He feels big in your dreams, looming over you. 

"You wouldn't take food out of anyone's mouth. There's no longer a faction on the planet that requires all that food." 

Because the vampires have all but wiped humans out. You snarl. 

"Why can't you leave me alone?" you snap. "I know you're cruel, but the least you could do is let me dream in peace."

"Have I been cruel to you? I don't mean to be, sweetheart. I visit to check on you."

"Bullshit, Dick." Saying his name makes you shake. "You visit to manipulate me. I'm not going to give up my location, I'm not going to turn against my team, and I'm definitely never going to be your queen."

Dick is next to you on the roof ledge, now. He leans in and you stiffen at his eyes. You still aren't used to the absence of blue.

"Of course not. I wouldn't make you do anything you don't want to," he says, hand slipping across your jaw. You immediately slap him away. He makes a displeased sound. 

"Why don't you find someone else to manipulate? I'm sure you've got countless minions who'd leap at the chance to be with you for eternity." 

"I don't want anyone else," he murmurs. "I've thought of nothing but you since we parted. I wish you hadn't run, my love. Things would be better if we were together, you’d see.”

"Hah. You used to be so much better at compartmentalizing, Grayson. Guess vampires aren't so good at controlling their own desires."

He laughs, tosses his head back. His fangs glint. Dick's smile is deceiving; underneath the charm, there's unimaginable power. Vampirism has treated him well: he's always filled out, lean with muscle, carrying an easy strength everywhere he goes. 

You, on the other hand, suffer from poor nutrition. You didn't sleep well before this mess; now, it's nearly impossible. 

(Except when Dick visits, you feel rested the next morning. You'd never admit such a thing to anybody, but it's the truth.) 

"Oh, sweetheart, but why would I bother controlling my desires now? There's no one stopping me from having what I want."

You stew in silence, turning away from him. Dick sighs. 

"What do you want, hm? Tell me. I'll give you anything." 

"I want you to free every human you're holding captive," you say. "And I want you and your people to stop this war."

"Such a golden heart," Dick says. "That's what I love about you. Always so good."

"You used to be good too," you shoot back bitterly. 

"No, I used to be obedient. There's a difference. I used to be Bruce's little, golden cow."

“He treated you well.”

“When I fell in line,” he says.

You fall quiet again. Dick scoots closer. You scoot away. 

"You know I've already let a few of the humans go. For you, honey. As a sign of goodwill. I'm not totally heartless, you know."

You roll your eyes. 

"Right. Well, us cattle don't find it merciful when we're sent out on our own to die, so you'll have to excuse me if I don't thank Your Highness on my knees."

"You are not cattle," Dick says fiercely. "Don't talk about yourself that way."

"My life is no less human and no more important than theirs," you say, temper flaring. "So, yes, I am."

"That's—"

You fall off the roof before he can say any more. Your stomach swoops similarly to how it would if you were awake. But then the stars bleed into the skyline, and there's a flash of golden light. 

And now you're in a bedroom. It's not one you recognize, richly decorated with golden accents and silk sheets and curtains. You'd almost mistake it for a room at Wayne Manor. 

"Now this is much better, don't you think? You're wearing my favorite color."

You look down and see that your pajamas have been swapped for a long, blood red, chiffon nightgown. It hugs every curve and dip of your body, the sleeves and collar trimmed in soft fur. The neckline is somewhat modest, but the fabric is totally see-through past your thighs. 

It's something a queen would wear. 

"Beautiful," Dick murmurs, voice rough. "Fuck, honey. This is the sort of thing you should wear all the time."

"Change me back," you demand. "I am not a doll for you to dress up, Dick."

"No, of course you're not. This is just a taste of how you'd live if you were with me, my love."

"I will never live with you. I'd rather die."

Dick hums, then draws closer. You back up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. He prowls further, eyes sharp like he's hunting prey. Your pulse quickens and you have to remind yourself that this is just a dream. 

"What happened to us?" he asks softly. "I know that, at one point, you loved me."

"Yeah, that was before you turned into a monster. I loved a man." 

"I'm no more monster than any of the men you've known," Dick says. 

You scoff. "God, where'd you get that one? Jason?"

Dick smiles, and it almost looks human. "No, that was a Grayson original. And it's true. Man has never been good. You don't like me because now I drink a little blood?"

"I don't like you because you used to be good, and now you're not."

He hums. "I'm not all bad, my love. I can be subdued, tamed. You want me to be tame? I can be good for you. I can give you anything your heart desires. Our wants are the same.”

Dick eases you backwards onto the bed. You shouldn’t let him. Shouldn’t like the cold press of undead flesh against your heat. Shouldn’t like how he holds you, how convincing he sounds. You know your wants aren’t the same, that Dick is playing you, and you’re being easy.

But… but it's not like you'll ever see him for real again. No one will know. 

And God, it's been so long since anyone touched you. You pined for this, what seems like forever ago. Dick Grayson wanting you had felt impossible, until it wasn't… but by then, he'd become the very thing you'd sworn to hate. 

"This–” You swallow. “This isn’t right.” 

But your legs part for him to kneel between. 

"Tell me to stop and I will. I serve you first."

Dick hovers over you, hands planted on either side of your head. You're getting wet. You ache in more ways than one. 

"This is cruel," you whine.

"I don’t mean to be cruel,” he says gently. “Do you want me to stop, my love? My beautiful queen, who hasn’t been touched in so long. You’ve needed me, haven’t you?”

“Not–not your queen,” you say, panting, but you let him in, let him settle above you. 

“If you say so, my love," he says, nuzzling your neck. You tense even though he can't actually bite you. 

His fingers thread with yours. The position is unbearably intimate. You’d forgotten how romantic Dick was. How loving. Briefly, you wonder if he kept that through the shift.

It’s impossible, you insist as he kisses your jaw.

"You're a dream in red," he purrs. "I might prefer it to you in blue, but it's a close call."

"Your ego is ridiculous," you say, and Dick unlinks one hand to pet the apex of your thighs with two fingers. You're still clothed, and you're still dreaming, but the heat and pressure and slick feel so real. 

"The sounds you're making certainly don’t keep my ego in check," Dick says with a proud grin, fangs on display. 

Then he rips your underwear off, ducks between your legs, and licks you until you cry. 

You arch off the bed, and even in the dream, his strength is easy, one hand keeping you pressed to the bed. Dick pushes one of your legs up to get a deeper angle, moaning into your cunt. Your leg goes up easily even though in real life, it would pinch. You’re not as flexible as he is.

"Dickie," you cry, tears slipping down your cheeks because it's so good, it feels real, you wish this was real, wish you had him back. 

He nips your thighs, groans into your sex. Dick ruts the mattress, the first loss of control he's shown. It makes you wetter, knowing that he's so gone for you. It's sick to like such a thing, but you never stopped loving him, not really. You can't seem to reckon the man from the monster. 

You come hard on his tongue, and he keeps licking until you push him away. 

"You haven't been touched in ages, I bet," he says, lips shiny with your arousal. His eyes are a brighter red. His chest heaves. He looks hungrier than before he started.

"Been a bit busy,” you say when your brain comes back online. “End of humanity and all that."

His eyes go soft. You hate that he can still make that look. 

"Why are you so stubborn? Why won't you let me take care of you? You belong at my side."

You scowl. "I don't belong anywhere, Dick. Certainly nowhere near you."

His eyes glitter and he grabs you by your hips and kisses you. You let him, because you're absolutely pathetic and because you haven't been touched in ages.

Dick laughs against your mouth and peppers kisses on your throat before pulling away. 

"I'll send your team food. They won't even know it's me," he says, half-lidded. "My beloved queen. You'll never starve. I didn't know it was so bad."

"I am not your queen and I don't need your charity. In fact, you know what? I'm waking up. Right now."

Dick smiles, and kisses your hand. Then he gets off of the bed, and fixes his collar. He must be aching in his slacks, dream or not, but he straightens up like he has all the time in the world to fuck you. Like he knows you’ll be back.

"Of course, my love. Whatever you want. Till next time."

The dream fades from a golden bedroom to your dark, tiny hole of a room you've camped in for a few months. 

You turn your head and look at the clock. It's still late. 

Your thighs ache. Your mouth tingles where he kissed you. 

You swore to never pledge yourself to the Vampire King. But you never made any such promises about Dick Grayson.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female reader #vampire dick grayson #vampire richard grayson #dc vs vampires #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #nightwing fanfiction #batman fanfiction

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // twenty-one

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: oh- you guys wanted them to be happy and in love in peace?? my bad. anyway, good a time as any to wish you guys a happy valentines day! lol

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Where are ya takin' those?" Lennox asks you as you're quickly scanning through your piles of books, pulling out one or two at a time and holding onto them.

"I will bring them to Coryo and Sejanus." You smile to yourself, standing up straight as you finish picking out most of your favourites.

"Coryo." Lennox scrunches his nose up. "Why bother? They can't read that many books in a week. Especially when he'll hardly get his hands off you long enough to do literally anything else."

"Oh, Lennox hush. That is not true." You shake your head pointedly, cheeks burning red.

"It is true."

You had kind of explained to Lennox what happened, that Coryo explained, apologized, and that you were wrong about him. Your mother was right, of course, but Lennox still wasn't buying any of it. Although, he wouldn't deny that you seemed happier.

"Ma!" You call out, coming out of your bedroom with the stack of books in your arms. Trying to talk to Lennox about this would never end in him actually listening to you.

"Just out back, honey!"

You follow her voice out onto the back porch. "Ma, do you know if there's a limit of things you can take on the train?"

She looks up at the question, laughing at the stack of books you have steadied under your chin.

"It's not a passenger train, honey. I don't know." She chuckles. "You want to give him all of those? Won't you miss them?"

"Well..." You think about it, placing them down on the ground to rest your arms for a moment. "I don't know when I'll see him again, and books are expensive to post. Besides, I know they'll be in safe hands, and if I want to read them again I can take them from the library."

Your mom smiles sadly at you. "I suppose that's true."

"Yes." You grin, crouching down to pick the books up again carefully. "I shall go drop these off."

"When will you be back?" She asks, just as you're about to walk back inside.

"Uh, I'm uncertain, but I shouldn't be long! We don't have any plans."

"Maybe you should take your brother with you, he can carry those." She suggests and you sigh.

"No, Ma. He's mean." You pout.

"He only wants to keep you safe. Take him with you, please. He'll be driven mad here waiting for you to get back." She insists and you groan, dropping your head back. "I won't ask again, I promise."

"Okay, Ma." You relent, stepping back into the house and letting the door swing shut behind you. "Len! Ma says you're coming with me!"

"So... how do you know where they are staying?" Lennox asks you, half the books in his arms as you practically skip ahead of him.

"Coryo showed me the other day."

"Oh, he did. Of course he did." You can practically see him rolling his eyes behind your back. "Have you ever considered that he could just be using you? I mean-"

"Lennox, that's not a rational thought process. I have nothing that he would want, he already won his prize." You interrupt. "He just came here to spend time with me, we talked about that when I was in the Capitol."

"I can think of something he wants..."

"Lennox!" You turn on your heel, pointing a finger in his face so fast he almost stumbles as he stops. "That is enough. You have so little trust in me!"

"It's not like we haven't been down this road before!" He argues, and you quickly look around as he raises his voice. The path is deserted this time of day.

"And you don't think me capable of learning?"

"Clearly not! Him and Cole are practically the same person!"

"Don't you say that- I didn't like Cole and you know it." You narrow your eyes at him. "Coryo is different. He wouldn't hurt me."

"You do realize that those are like, the famous last words that every teenage girl ever has said and regretted it, right?"

"Do you just not want me to be happy?" You ask bitterly. That wasn't true and you knew it, but you were upset and you knew it would get your point across. He was being cruel.

"The opposite, actually! I just want you to think realistically about fallin' into the open arms of your 'knight in shining armour' who you've literally had nightmares about for weeks on end."

"I am not a child! I am an adult, and I am capable of making my own decisions." You spit. "He's not using me. He loves me, and I love him."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll say that until-"

"Lennox you are such a.. boy!" You groan. "If you must know, if you must insist that I am so stupid, no, I have not slept with him. Is that what you needed so desperately to hear?"

"Gross." He mumbles, shaking his head with disgust. "I don't care what you do with your alone time, actually I'd really rather not know! All I'm saying is you need to be more careful."

"I'm not going to fight with you. You can trust my decisions or not." You grumble, turning back around to keep walking. He follows behind you silently, neither of you saying another word the whole walk there.

You knock on the door, taking a step back while you wait for it to open. You can hear your brother breathing behind you and it's driving you up the wall. You would drop off the books and send him home- maybe you would stay for a while, go for a walk, something.

The door creaks open and you smile when you see Sejanus. "Y/N!" He grins, opening the door wider for you to come in. "Coryo! Your girlfriend is here!" You blush at the term as you walk in past him.

You hadn't discussed any kind of title to what you had, the looming ache of him leaving again so soon holding you back from wanting to mention it. You assumed he didn't want to discuss it either, both of you silently agreeing just to enjoy the time you still had together.

"Y/N/N." Coryo grins, eyes lighting up as he enters the room.

"Hi." You smile, ignoring your brother pretending to gag behind you.

"What brings you?" Coryo asks. "I didn't expect to see you today, I was thinking of coming to see you myself."

"Yes, well, I went through my books and brought some over that I would like you to take." You look back over your shoulder as Lennox is placing the large pile of books on the dining table.

Coryo hums as he wraps his arms around you, resting his chin on your head. "That's a lot of books." He chuckles.

"You don't have to rush through them, keep them as long as you'd like." You assure him. "I just thought they were some you may enjoy."

"I'm sure I'll love them." He kisses the top of your head. "Thank you."

You turn in his arms to look up at him, ticking your head slightly when you hear Sejanus speak quietly. Clearly, not to either of you. "Hey, I just want to show you something. Come outside with me?" And then the door is shut, and you and Coryo are left alone.

"What's he showing him?" You ask, and Coryo watches through the window as his friend and your brother circle around to the side of the house.

"I am not sure." He answers. Immediately, he's thinking of the note Sejanus had scribbled out for himself. It included your brother's name alongside the dates and times, and those dates were creeping up quickly, the seventeenth being in three days- if he had today's date correct.

"Coryo?"

"Hm?" He looks down at you again. "You were thinkin' for a minute there. What's wrong?"

You were always so concerned. All he had done was take a moment to think, and you seemed genuinely worried. Maybe there was something in his face that showcased his confusion. "Nothing, love." He assures you, but you don't seem inclined to believe it. "Okay, uh, just... Come with me." He grabs your hand, watching out the window to make sure they aren't coming back yet as he leads you to his room.

You step into the small space and smile. He wasn't here for long, but the room already had little touches of him. The bed was made, and there was nothing on the walls but the bedside table had the copy of Romeo and Juliet he had got for you, a folded-up note, and a comb for his hair he had yet to put back in his bag despite him not needing it anymore.

You turn to face him after he shuts the door, smiling. He almost looked normal here, now. Like he was getting used to being here with you, living your life. It certainly wasn't like what he left behind in the Capitol, but to you it was special.

"Y/N, I have something to tell you." Coryo says, serious with a lowered voice. He didn't want anyone to hear it, even though you were still likely alone in the home.

"Okay." You reply, feeling your brow crease as you nod at him. His tone makes you nervous- your heart skips a beat in your chest. For a moment, you feel trapped. Tell him what you need. He won't mind.

"Can you... can you move away from the door, please?" You ask quietly before he has the chance to speak again.

He nods, not wasting a second before passing you and you turn with him, now with the door to your own back. "Is that better? You okay?" He asks and you nod.

"Fine just fine." You smile, trying to be reassuring. "What were you going to tell me?"

"Right, so..." You watch as he runs a hand over his head, still in the habit of pushing back his hair. "I was in Sejanus's room the other day, and I found this note. It had two dates and places on it, and then your brother's name and that was it."

"Oh." That's the only thing you can think of to say. "Well... do you remember the places? Maybe he was just trying to remember Len's name?"

"I don't know, I was hoping you'd know more." Coryo sighs, reaching for the bedside drawer. He had written down what he remembered from the dates and times, because he did want to ask you about it. "But he's been leaving and coming back at odd hours, he won't tell me what he's doing. Is he with Lucy Gray?"

"I don't think so." You frown, shaking your head. "But they have been getting close."

"But that doesn't really feel relevant to the note, or your brother."

"No... It certainly doesn't seem that way."

"Here, so... I wrote it down. Uh... The Hob, August seventeenth at ten pm, and broken fence August eighteenth at four am." He reads off what he remembered enough from the note to write down.

You tilt your head.

"Does that mean anything to you?"

"Well, on the seventeenth The Covey is performing at the Hob, so maybe he planned on going to that." You explain. "But broken fence... there's so many of those around here I couldn't tell you. Although, four am is an incredibly odd time to be meeting anyone."

"That's three hours before our train leaves."

"Oh." You shake your head slightly. "That's very weird."

"I know." Coryo sighs. "He won't tell me either, I've asked if he has any plans that night and he said no."

"Well... We should go." You offer. "Tell him that we're going to the meadow that night, and we'll just go after him. See who he's with."

Coryo raises his eyebrows at you. "I didn't take you for the nosy type."

"Well, I'm a big sister at heart and if it possibly involves Lennox I have to know." You argue. "It could be dangerous. He's always had a few friends I didn't love."

"Are you okay to go back there? I can go without you." He offers.

"I'll be fine." You insist. It's more so out of necessity, you have no choice but to be fine. You have to know- you have to make sure your brother and friend are safe.

"Are you sure about this?" Coryo asks, stopping you outside the entrance to the Hob. "If you want to go home I can take you, I just want you to feel safe."

"I know." You give him a small, reassuring smile as you squeeze his hand. "If I need to leave I'll tell you. I promise."

He nods, taking one last look at you to make sure you still seem okay before he pushes the door open and you both head in.

The building is buzzing- as it usually is when The Covey performs. You smile at the music, letting Coryo pull you close to the side wall as he scans the crowded room for his friend.

"Do you see him?" You ask, and he somehow hears you over the music and shakes his head.

You frown, looking around as well. No sign of Sejanus, no sign of Lennox. Lennox isn't even old enough to be here, but he wasn't at home when you left- and it's not exactly hard to sneak in.

"There," Coryo says, nodding in the direction of the opposite side of the room. You follow his eyes, and spot Sejanus talking to someone you recognize. "Who's he with?"

"Spruce." You explain. "His sister is scheduled to be executed tomorrow afternoon." You add, leaning closer so no one else will hear.

You watch as they head toward the back hall, the same one you ran down just a couple of weeks ago. "Should we go after them?" You ask when Coryo doesn't reply and he nods, watching them as he pulls you down the outside wall toward them.

You make it back to the hall without Lucy Gray spotting you, as far as you can tell. Standing outside the door, you hear shouting. You watch Coryo as he clenches his jaw, shaking his head.

"Wait out here." He tells you, dropping your hand.

"No- I, I should come." You shake your head and he grabs your cheeks, lifting your head to look into your eyes.

"I don't know what they're fighting about but it doesn't sound good. Wait out here." He's stern as he gently brushes his thumbs over your cheeks. "Listen to Lucy Gray, just watch the door. Okay, love?"

"Okay." You agree quietly, slightly nodding.

He kisses your forehead before letting you go, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open and disappearing behind it.

You chew your nails as you wait with your ear to the door, trying to decipher who is inside with them. It's hard to tell with all the shouting going on, but you hadn't heard Lennox.

"Y/N." You hear your name, quickly jumping back from the door and turning to face the voice. "What are you doin' here?"

You chew your cheek, trying to avoid Cole's gaze. "Just waitin' for Lucy Gray." You lie, looking down.

"Ah." He hums, nodding slightly as he steps closer to you. "Where's your purebred Capitol attack dog?"

"What are you doing here, Cole?" You ask, ignoring his question.

"We got leave passes for the weekend." He answers. "Hoff said something about 'boosting morale'."

"That's nice." You smile nervously. "Well, I don't want to keep you, so..."

"You aren't." He smirks, tilting his head as he looks down at you. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, you know that, right?"

"I know." You say softly.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

"Cole..." You sigh, looking down again. "We talked about this I just... We're too different. I'm sorry."

"Oh, because you have so much more in common with that prick- right?" He laughs sarcastically. "He's Capitol! He'll never know you like I do. Honestly, I'm offended that you'd choose him over me."

"I'm not choosing him over you." You frown. "I already knew we wouldn't work before I ever met him. This is very, very different. I'm sorry."

"You are? Oh, I'm glad to hear that." He nods and you eye him suspiciously. "Maybe then after he leaves, you'll give me another chance. He's taking the next train, tomorrow morning, right?"

"I can't do that, Cole." You shake your head.

"That's an awful shame." The evil smile on his face doesn't fade. "I'll have no choice but to report your father."

Your heart drops. "My Pa hasn't done anything."

He sucks in through his teeth. "Well, suspicion is enough to charge, and I don't know... I get a bit of an off feeling from him. It's actually my duty to report any suspicions we have, so honestly I've been protecting you, and I'd like to keep doing that, you know?"

You finally picked up on what he was saying, and immediately could taste the bitterness of fear on your tongue, a metallic tang that seemed to linger in the air.

"So? Do we have a date?"

"Sure." You mutter through gritted teeth.

"Sweet, thanks for finally coming to your senses, bug." Cole smiles, patting your shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow afternoon!" He calls back as he walks away.

You don't even care what's going on inside, you can't be alone in this dark hallway anymore.

You pull the door open and rush in, but you're quickly stopped by Coryo's arm as he takes a few steps back, pushing you behind him. "What- what's-"

"She can't be in here!" Spruce spits at Coryo as you look past him, gasping at the sight of several guns on the table and the one in his arms.

"Listen, she's not involved." Sejanus promises.

"Her brother is gonna help us, it's cool. She won't tell." You look at Billy Taupe when he speaks, eyes wide.

"No- this is crazy." Mayfair shakes her head. "She's not coming with us. We're not bringing her or Lucy Gray. I'm leaving."

"No, they aren't coming. I just said I'd ask. Now she knows, so she probably should." Billy Taupe replies and your eyes flick between the couple. You had no idea what was going on, where he wanted you to go, and what this had to do with Sejanus or your brother.

"No! My daddy will have you all strung up for this." She throws her hands up and starts to walk toward the back door. Your heart is pounding in your chest as Coryo reaches for one of the guns.

"Don't!" You cry out, forcing yourself in front of him just as he aims the gun at her. At you.

"Y/N, you gotta move right now." He says quickly, and you hear her footsteps stop behind you.

You can only look at his eyes as they flit between anger, instinct, and fear.

"Coryo." You say, voice cracking and it's only then that you feel the tears dampening your cheeks.

The barrel of the gun is under an inch from your chest, and you can see his hands shaking as he holds the heavy weapon in his hands. He won't shoot you- he won't.

The world around you seems to blur as your focus narrows on the overwhelming sense of fear gripping you tightly. Right now, if someone asked where you were, you wouldn't know. You just as easily could have been standing in the arena. 

He doesn't dare move as he stares at you, eyes wide. He doesn't want to hurt you, but that's why he has to do this. He can't let whoever that girl was have you killed. Still, you stand in front of him. Shaking, but not moving. This was the girl he knew from the games who offered a rose to Coral who in the moments before was threatening her. The girl who so thoroughly hated the idea of bringing harm to others that her own mind blocked it out completely and replaced the story with something else. This was the girl who was willing to give up her life just to be able to give the other tributes an honourable burial that she knew they wouldn't otherwise receive. 

The girl who saw him kill another boy and despite all of that, still had it in her heart to forgive him.

You don't even hear Mayfair laugh and begin to walk away again, you only hear the gunshot that follows. You jump, immediately looking down to assess the damage. Coryo wasn't pointing the gun at you anymore, he had dropped his arms in defeat- and you had mistaken the loud noise for an impact you were expecting.

He didn't shoot you.

"What did you do?" You turn as Billy Taupe screams, eyes widening as you see Mayfair bleeding out on the floor.

"Oh god- oh god..." You mumble, stepping back until you bump into Coryo. He drops the gun back onto the table, pulling you into his arms.

"Don't look, don't look..." He tells you, turning you and pressing your head to his chest so you can't see anymore even if you wanted to.

You can't even make out what Spruce and Billy Taupe are yelling at each other over the sound of your blood pumping through your veins. Until the second gunshot.

You must be sobbing now, clinging onto the front of Coryo's shirt so tight your knuckles are burning. "You're okay, it's okay." He tells you. You don't know what's going on- you don't want to.

Coryo stares between Spruce and the body of Billy Taupe now slumped down next to Mayfair. He needs to get you out of here, now, but he doesn't know how. This has to be handled first.

He's letting you go only to grab your cheeks and get you to look at him. "Go back outside, you have to go back outside, I will handle this."

You can't even speak- can't even move. You try and shake your head. You couldn't leave him, not right now. You feel like you'd die the moment he ceased touching you.

The door slides open again, followed by an angry voice you know too well. "What the fuck?" Cole must have been watching you. He must have heard.

"No..." You cry, shaking your head. If Cole saw this you were absolutely all screwed.

"What the fuck did you do?" Cole shouts again. "Nobody fucking move! You're all-"

Another gunshot. Silence.

"Oh no, no, no..." You try and look behind Coryo but he doesn't let you, holding your head firmly into his chest again.

"It's okay. Don't look." He says again, staring at Sejanus who looks like he's panicking just as much as you are now.

"Why'd you tell them where we were? Now you've gone and screwed us all over! I just shot a peacekeeper!"

"He didn't tell anyone." Coryo defends him. "We followed him, Cole followed us."

"Fuck." Spruce sighs, throwing the gun onto the pile of others still laid across the table. "We gotta bump this up. We have to get Lil now, go tell Lennox to get the stuff and hide it for us like we said."

"Get rid of the guns and pretend this never happened."Coryo hisses. "And leave the kid out of this. It's too late for whatever plan you had now- we don't know where he is."

You can't even hear a single thing going on anymore. You're actually sure you might faint.

When you go from shaking to completely still in Coryo's arms, he knows you have. "Shit..." He mumbles, trying to steady you as your knees give out. He quickly readjusts so he can lift you with an arm under your knees and the other under your back.

"I gotta get her out of here and you have to move quick. Get rid of the guns. Now." He instructs, and surprisingly, Spruce listens. He throws the weapons into a bag and steps over the two bodies by the door before leaving.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." Sejanus cries, gripping onto his hair and breathing heavily. "No one was supposed to get hurt!"

"Sejanus, for once just shut up!" He grabs his attention from where his friend is staring at the dead couple, clearly losing his mind. Coryo doesn't have time for this- an unconscious girl in his arms and his friend looking like he's about to be in the same state in a matter of moments.

"It's all my fault..."

"All of this is your fault!" Coryo agrees, looking around at the mess of the room. "It's only gonna get worse if you don't pull yourself together."

"Oh, god..."

"If you breathe a word now, all three of us are finished. Just like in the arena. We came here to see her. If we go down, she goes with us." He holds you tighter to his chest as your hair falls over the curve of his arm, your head limp against his skin. "So now we have to go back to the house, gather all our shit, and act like nothing is wrong. We have to board the train tomorrow like nothing is wrong. Do you understand?"

"I- I don't know." Sejanus sniffs.

"Hey." Coryo says, taking a few steps closer. "Look at me. You have to pull it together. I know you wanted to go with them but now they aren't going. We've got to stick together. You won't get in trouble. I won't let anything happen to you, but you have to listen to me." It was obvious that it didn't matter that none of you pulled the trigger- being in the room was enough; especially when a peacekeeper had been murdered. If you were caught, you'd all be executed. "We're brothers, yeah? Brothers. Whatever you've done, I swear I will keep you safe."

"Brothers. Yeah." Sejanus mutters, still obviously in shock.

"Those guns were the only loose ends besides the four of us, so we're gonna be okay as long as we leave tomorrow." He breathes. "Okay? Not a word."

"O-Okay." Sejanus nods slightly, trying to keep his focus on the boy in front of him rather than their unconscious friend in his arms.

Coryo tried to give him a reassuring smile, but inside he was panicking too. They could escape it all on the train tomorrow, but now came the problem of what to do with you.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

#tbosas #tbosas fic #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #thg series #thg fanfiction #the hunger games #thg fanfic #thg fic #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coryo #coryo x you #coryo x reader #snow x reader #snow lands on top #president snow

[sharpedgedfool]

i fucking love your monster au design for shadow could we have some lore abt him? (if you want to :])

Apologies for the essay I'm about to drop for your ask jddfgsdkgf, but here's a sketch as a peace offering and I'll drop all the lore I have for you under the read more! Glad people are interested in it cause I'm currently obsessed with it lmao

OK so basically Eggman in this universe is still the mad doctor type, he’s just obsessed with the occult instead of robotics. He’s a mortal human but hunts monsters for experiments and he’s obsessed with gaining supernatural powers to rule the world, and Sonic and Amy with their usual group are his main enemies.

He has a big following of humans (who think he’s trying to save them from monsters) and a rather large army of other monsters who work for him - so he has a ton of resources despite being a 'regular dude', and he’s slowly collecting spellbooks and teaching himself magic.

He finds a rare grimoire, and it unlocks a treasure trove of dark magics. Now his big master plan is to summon a demon to serve him and gain ultimate power, to do this he needs the seven emeralds for the ritual.

Sonic and Amy are the main hero duo in the story, Sonic was cursed with lycanthropy as a child when a pack attacked his village, he was spared because he was young, and went to find a witch in hopes of a cure. The witch he found was Vanilla, her daughter Cream, and Amy who is her apprentice. Before Sonic could be cured he made friends with a few other cryptids who live in the same woods and in the end decided he’d rather stay cursed with them as he had nowhere else to go anyways. He’s not in a traditional pack (all were-creatures) instead they have a rag-tag group with all kinds of different monsters that live with the witches (Tails and Knux are in there somewhere I promise jkfgdhdf). He likes having the werehog strength so he can fight back and protect his new family.

Rouge is a born Vampire, not turned. Her parents were killed at some point and she took over their coven after she avenged them and proved herself worthy. She’s like the Queen of sorts and rules over a majority of the vampires across the world - she has eyes (and ears) everywhere, there's very little she doesn’t know about. So Sonic and Amy ask her for help when they realise Eggman’s planning something big. She has a huge hoard of gems locked up in a big spooky cliffside castle, she’s obsessed with treasure still. She agrees to aid them to overthrow Eggman in exchange for the seven emeralds for herself. She doesn’t want to use them for their power, so they agree.

Everyone teams up to find the emeralds first, but Eggman outsmarts them, and the ritual begins before they can stop him, and once it’s begun it’s irreversible. The only thing they can do at this point is change who the demon is bound to, so Sonic throws himself into the curse (he already has one after all).

Shadow is the demon that’s summoned. Typical demon pacts imply that he’ll do whatever the summoner asks, granting them ultimate power, but he’ll get their soul in return. The catch is if Sonic never asks him to do anything, he’s technically not indebted and Shadow won't get his soul. It’s a game of temptation, but since Sonic was technically an unwilling participant, Shadow's more intrigued than anything - he’s confident Sonic will eventually cave and ask him for something (they always do) so he doesn’t attempt to trick him, he sees no need.

Sonic now has a demon chained to him constantly, and he’s extremely on guard (demons are as powerful as creatures get in this universe) and he’s off put by how genuine Shadow comes across. Shadow asks a lot of questions, and Sonic assumes he’s doing it to learn how to manipulate him - Shadow finds it amusing. Eventually they get used to each other, Shadow and Rouge get along well (though they both tease Sonic mercilessly together so he tries to avoid her but Shadow will nag him to visit) Amy tries to work on a spell to break the bond between them but it's a notoriously hard spell to break (perhaps impossible as they destroyed the grimoire in the fight with Eggman), but eventually Sonic and Shadow are both unsure if they want it to be broken at all…

Sonic starts asking Shadow questions too, and finds out more about Shadow. Originally he was an angel - thousands of years ago he had a mortal friend (Maria) and the two of them were inseparable. Unlike demons, angels rarely interact with the world so her village mistook her good fortune as witchcraft and assumed Shadow to be a demon. They killed her over it, and Shadow was heartbroken - in a fit of rage he lashed out, wiped out their town and proved to them he could be the demon they thought he was. He became a fallen angel, scorned and bitter - not born of pure evil but clearly capable of carnage all the same.

Unlike hellborn demons, Shadow doesn’t enjoy mindlessly committing atrocities - he has to feel it’s a necessary evil or he’ll turn it on his summoner (this makes him dangerous to summon, he’s normally considered off-limits). He’s one of the more powerful demons but he’s hard to reason with to make it worth it. Eggman targeted him specifically because he thought Shadow would side with him as Maria was a distant ancestor of his.

Once the annoyance of being forcefully summoned wears off,  Shadow’s rather pleased Sonic isn’t trying to use him for anything - he’s secretly happy to have someone with decent morals to hang out with (he’s an outcast in hell for obvious reasons) but he’d refused to make mortal contact with anyone willingly after Maria for fear of resigning them to a bad fate all over again.

Again thank you for reading!! I'll have more art to share soon!! :)

#ask #monster au

[concussed-to-pieces]

Wolves At The Door; Epilogue

Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. 

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our final installment! I'd like to thank you all for reading, and for having faith in me to see this through safe and sound. Never fear, you will always have your happy ending 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List:  @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords @imthegreenfairy86 @karlskitten @nitrogennightmare @chunnies @thirstworldproblemss @highly-unknown @tartimaar-bloggeth @thesmartbiscuit @spoopyredacted @crowtrobotx @kotall-ohh @doggydale @jackie-loves-yalls-writing @simplysolo @teeheemax

x. Prelude

1. Indebted

2. Blood On Your Hands

3. Brush With Death

4. Come To Bed

5. Smells Like Snow

6. Hot Iron

7. Turnover

8. Backslide

9. Tender Gray Light

10. Hubris’ Weight

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, graphic depictions of mental and physical duress and sexual acts between two consenting adults. Stay safe!]

You hadn't been counting, but if you had, it would have been sixty-seven days. Sixty-seven days since Karl had vanished, sixty-seven days since you had heard another human's voice or even seen another person. 

Sixty-seven days. You weren't counting. 

Spring was fully upon the forest, buds erupting on the trees and the river swollen with runoff from the melting snow. It was one of your busiest times of the year between scavenging fallen trees, resetting the snares and sorting through your seeds to plant. You were extremely busy and you didn't think about it at all.

Not even when the Duke made his first appearance of the season.

…

“It brings me joy to see you once more, my dear! This winter was long and harsh.” The large man exclaimed, mopping his sweaty face with a handkerchief. “I'm wondering if you might assist me with a small problem. It seems someone may have suffered a bit of an incident, a turn of bad luck.” 

Despite this being the thing he always said when he had found an animal for you to nurse, your heart still gave a traitorous little jump in your chest. That is, of course, until a small doe limped around the rear of the cart. 

“What's wrong, my dear?” The Duke queried, and when you glanced at him his expression was strangely stoic. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No, I…” You hesitated. “I guess not. What's happened to this little girl?”

“She claims that she got her fore left leg caught in the fork of a tree. The woods have been so peaceful as of late though that, aside from the pain, she wasn't scared,” the Duke mused thoughtfully, a swollen hand resting gently on the animal's head. “Apparently her leg would have been broken had she panicked. She had to remain still for several hours to get free.”

You were always entertained by the way the merchant acted like he could understand the woodland creatures he brought to you, but if nothing else he clearly had a way with them. The black horse that drew his cart, for instance, had never balked or shied away in all the times that the Duke had rattled his wares around behind the creature's head. 

You squinted upwards at the Duke. “So I'm salving and wrapping her leg?”

“Indeed, a simple fix.” He bent down, giving you a look so intent it made you a little uncomfortable. “And I'll give something to you as a token of my appreciation.”

“Huh?”

He simply winked, then gestured at the doe. 

You were burning with curiosity. What could he be granting you? And for free, no less! Ablaze with possibilities you didn't dare hope for, you nonetheless dutifully tended to the small scrape on the deer's thin leg.

“A familiar task for you, I'd wager.” The Duke finally spoke again, cigar smoke wafting around his head like a cloud. You gave him a confused look, quirking your brow, yet his face remained amicably bland. 

You eventually settled back onto your haunches, wiping a few beads of sweat from your brow. While the weather had yet to truly warm up, the sunlight was beaming through the still-leafless trees. 

The doe staggered to her feet, bleating at you loud enough to make you jump. The Duke laughed as if in reply, that large hand landing on the animal's head once more. “Off you get now, little hind. You know the way home.” He murmured, giving her another pat before she departed. “She said thank you, by the by.” The large man informed you almost absently, already searching through his pockets for another cigar.

“Oh of course,” was your dry response, making him chuckle. “What's with all this cryptic stuff, though?”

“Ah, to business.” The Duke rubbed his hands together, his rings jangling discordantly as he did. “A favorite subject. Regrettably my gift is nothing really physical, it is instead a message.” His keen eyes felt suddenly sharp, as though he was seeing through your soul itself. “That iron horse does not forget its master so easily, especially one so gracious as you, my dear.”

You stared up at him blankly. Horse? What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

The Duke seemed entertained by your bewilderment, the man grinning and leaning back on the bench of his cart. “Perhaps it would be more apt to dub him the feral mutt you've brought to heel. After all, kindness and a warm meal are lures potent enough to drag in even the most stoic of men.”

“That's not funny.” You said in a curt tone, hating that you could feel your lower lip quivering slightly. “I…that's not funny, Mr. Duke.”

He was abruptly serious. “I don't jest lightly, my dear.”

“Then why would you say that?!” You snapped, getting to your feet and dusting off the knees of your pants. “I didn't help out just so you could sit up there and make fun of me-”

“My dear I assure you, I'm as sincere as the day is long.” The Duke insisted, knocking some ash from the end of his cigar. “Call it a…perhaps a merchant's intuition. After all, it's important to have a certain level of foresight, to be able to read the ebbs and flows of the market and adjust to demand ahead of schedule. How else would I keep my clientele?” 

“You're not making any sense.” You growled, now frustrated with your corpulent visitor.

He tipped his head back, expelling another waft of smoke upwards. “Have a little faith, will you? Creature of habit that you are, have faith in the unseen, the unknown.” The Duke jabbed his cigar at you. “Or continue to wallow in your discontent, counting the days that you claim mean nothing.”

You recoiled physically as if he had struck you, taking in a deep breath to deny his words. But instead all that came out was a soft, pitiful, “I miss him.”

The Duke nodded, oddly sympathetic all of a sudden. “Have faith, my dear.” He clasped your hand between his own enormous paws, eyes sincere. “The spring is upon us, and new life grows eternal in these woods. Keep your lanterns lit.”

…

Damn, it's quiet. 

It echoed in his ears, a looping nothingness like static. Abruptly his heartbeat interrupted it, thudding deafeningly in his skull. What the hell had the good-for-nothing organ been doing before that?!

The beat was slow, much slower than it ought to be. His thoughts were barely there, sluggish and disjointed. 

Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal–

No, no, he had dealt with that already. Where was he? It was so frustrating not being able to think, to string along a process to its conclusion. 

He flexed his right hand, confused by how numb it was. Pins and needles lurched down the limb in a wave, making him shudder and grunt. That shudder dislodged…something, a huge, sharp something that, from what he could struggle to put together, was what had pinned him to the wall he was currently pressed against. 

It didn't seem to matter if he opened his eyes or kept them closed, either way he was effectively sightless and plagued with vertigo. Had he gone blind?

A groan rattled dryly out of his throat. The skin on his lips cracked with the exhale, and he felt liquid begin to dampen them. His tongue flicked out on reflex, the man tasting rust and dirt. Unbidden came a warm flash as if from a dream, cinnamon and brown sugar, plum spice cake.

Standing was a challenge. More of a slow, creaking shift into what could be vaguely considered an upright position. Fingers scratching at the mud around him, the man levered himself off the ground with the help of what was left of his enormous hammer. The handle of it felt more brittle than he had expected, the scent of rust filling the air when his fingers gripped down. 

How long has it been? 

And then, a new thought occurred, one that seemed to fully shock him to life. Have I just been dreaming this entire time?

Had you just been some vivid hallucination? Had the Duke even scraped him off the ground and brought him to safety, or had he just crawled back into his burrow to die once the saga of he and Winters’ fracas had played out? 

Was any of it real?

The ground squelched wetly beneath whatever was left of his boots as he staggered forward, but it also crunched in a grim manner. He didn't want to think too hard on that, instead focusing on sending out pulses of his power. He couldn't truly see, but at least he knew where metallic objects were in proximity to him and he could use that knowledge to keep from toppling over. 

He wasn't certain how long he meandered through the sunless wreckage. Was it hours, or weeks? Slowly, painfully, one shuffling foot in front of the other, he continued on aimlessly. He wondered to himself if this was how earthworms felt, wriggling through the cold earth in search of sustenance and never deigning to see the sunlight.

He barely even noticed when it started to become brighter around him, reasoning that he must simply be imagining it when faintly from far, far above came a distant dawn chorus of birdsong. The man paused, straining his eyes to see in the dim light, and he could only just make out a faint glow in the distance. His legs, all but atrophied from disuse, protested mightily when he tried to up his pace, so he was forced to maintain the speed of a snail moving through cold molasses.

It was a long, hard trek. The rubble-laden floor angled slightly upwards to the…hole? cave in?, leaving the man to simply flounder and scrape his shins on the detritus he was too weary to lift his legs over. 

As the light strengthened, he came to the sudden realization that he was all but naked. What was left of his clothing was in ribbons, caked with ichor, old blood and mold. His boots seemed to be coming apart at the seams, blooming white patches of mold eating into the remnants of the leather. He then shivered as the first bracing breeze of the outside world graced his lungs, and the coughing spasm it startled out of him seemed to dislodge more than it should have. 

When he finally was able to straighten back up, his spine settled into place, releasing an earsplitting pop! as it did. Relief flooded his body, the pain dulling to a manageable throb. He took a few more tentative breaths, noting as he did how much brighter his surroundings had become. Had he been walking through the night, and just reached the entrance at dawn?

It doesn't really matter, he decided, squaring his shoulders. The only thing that matters is…

“I have to go back.” He grimaced at the rasp of his own voice, swallowing and trying again. “I have to…make sure it wasn't all in my head.”

I have to see them. And when I do, I…

His heart lurched painfully in his chest. What if it had all just been a dream? Some wild wish-fulfillment of a gentler, kinder existence while his body slowly repaired itself after his glorious defeat at the hands of Ethan Winters? 

His empty stomach felt like it was caving in, fear and resignation warring in his gut, but after a moment of hesitation he shook the hair out of his eyes and stepped out into the cool yellow light of a spring morning.

The first thing he noticed was no humanoid footprints, to his absolute delight. No wolf prints, no footprints, nothing. At least he hadn't failed in that regard. Unless he had imagined it and those fucks who put up the fence had also been the ones to eradicate the lycans and their pets. 

Gods, his head hurt. The sun, just barely over the horizon now, seemed like it was burning his retinas clean out of his skull. He shaded his eyes with his palm, grimacing in pain. He would go check the bulkhead he had entered through, he decided. Check the bulkhead, see if it even existed, then check for fresh tracks there. And then…and then…

He slumped against the rubble of the caved-in factory wall, running a hand over his face. His facial hair was extremely unruly and matted with grime, and he doubted the rest of him looked any better. Once he departed the village, put some distance between himself and this…malodorous valley, he would have to clean himself up. If you were real, if he hadn't imagined you in a fit of self-indulgent madness, he doubted you would be overly impressed with him showing up half-dead, reeking of stale sweat, mold and wet dog.

To say nothing of the fact that his clothing was in tatters.

It was a slow, zig-zagging walk back to where he had descended into the factory previously.  At least he knew for certain that the bulkhead existed, the man reasoned with himself while he scrutinized the ground around the bulkhead that hadn't caved in. Again, nothing. No fresh marks, no scrapes, no scuffs. Not so much as a sparrow's tiny claw marks graced the ground. Seemingly the local wildlife gave the valley a wide berth, which made sense. Between Miranda's crow forms and the various nightmarish denizens of this place, it was only logical for normal creatures to avoid it.

He straightened up, squinting against the sunlight once more. He could only just make out that ridiculous fence way off by the outskirts of the valley, and if he remembered the fence…

The man gripped the remains of the haft of his hammer and began walking. It had only taken him a few hours of running to get here before, but after his…rest, it would seem that running wasn't in the cards for today. Or ever again, if the screaming in his calves was anything to go by. So walking it was, doing his best to ignore the tremor in his legs as he went. 

He mainly left his attention on the ground, familiar enough with the valley that he could afford to do so. Back around the swamp he went, nearly losing the sole of one of his boots to the sucking mud that surrounded the area.

He had to get to you. He had to know whether you were real. The fear and hope cycled in his head, back and forth, round and round, and he wondered hazily if he had snapped (or snapped more). 

Climbing the rise felt like an impossible task and yet eventually he stood at the top, sweating and panting but there. 

Without an ounce of finesse, Karl Heisenberg gracelessly tore open a section of the fence and made his escape out into the forest, never once looking back at the village that had been his home for so many years. No, all that his thoughts could stay latched onto was the memory of plum spice cake and the way you had looked at him that night.

He had to get to you. He had to make sure that you were real. And…

He had to apologize.

He had to make this right.

If you hated him, that was fine! It was your right. He would hate him. What he had done was stupid. You made him feel something that he didn't understand, and for someone as self-assured as Karl, that was terrifying. 

Cut them off at the source. More like run from a problem he didn't think he could handle, like some cowardly bitch. The man snarled at himself in discontent, his pace picking up to some sort of lumbering jog. Deer fled before him, nimble bodies flitting through the undergrowth as he did his best to retrace his steps. At least he had the river to follow, if nothing else.

Speaking of which.

Karl knelt beside the rushing water, grateful that he couldn't see his reflection. He had a decent imagination, he didn't need to confirm it. 

It was cold as ice, the chill of it taking his breath away. Karl took another breath and shoved his head underwater, closing his eyes to keep…whatever was in his hair out of them. The man then flipped the soggy hair back over his head, finger-combing it away from his face.

Karl proceeded to drink greedily from the river, the frigid water a shock and blessing all in one. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was, the man finally sloppily wiping his mouth and beard and then getting to his feet once more. The handle of his hammer remained on the ground beside the river, forgotten, as Heisenberg continued onward along the bank.

He felt like he was actually awake now, like he'd emerged from some kind of dream (or nightmare) into these woods. His footing grew more sure, atrophy fading as his muscles warmed up both from use and from the strengthening sunlight streaming through the trees.

He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. The day was so young, the sky overhead a vibrant blue and the moss beneath his boots a lush, fluffy green. It was honestly beautiful and Karl had no idea how he had never seen it before. Had he been wandering through life with his eyes shut until now?

No, he thought firmly, he had only begun to open them when he met you. You had done that. You had been worth it, had been worth him taking actual notice of the world around him. 

You had to be real. You must be. None of the other phantoms he had encountered in his life had any substance to them, but you…

Heisenberg clenched his fists, urging his body to move faster.

…

Keep your lanterns lit.

And so you did. The Duke had left you with a physical gift despite his claims to the contrary; a sturdy metal lantern with a large cutout shaped like a horse. Every night as the sun was setting, you went out to where it hung on your front gate and lit the candle inside it, which, curiously, never seemed to get any shorter. You, admittedly, didn't have much faith, you just assumed the Duke had been trying to comfort you with some platitude. 

It was a little comforting to have a nightly ritual once more, however. Before it had been you and Karl discussing anything that struck him after dinner, and the silence continued to yawn around you at mealtimes. You would take what you could get. You often lingered out by the fence for a while, telling yourself you weren't really listening as you strained your ears to hear anything, anything at all. You knew it was futile and you weren't actually expecting anything to come of it, yet still you persisted in wasting time by the front gate.

With the lengthening days you were occasionally out past dusk, cutting wood or finishing house repairs. On one such day, a floorboard on the porch that had begun creaking in the winter finally annoyed you enough that you decided to attempt to fix it. 

You spent most of the day carefully foraging drips of pine pitch from nearby trees, intending to make a batch of pine tar in the evening. Board couldn't creak if it couldn't move, right? 

You set up your highly-technical ‘refining station’, which definitely wasn't just an old beans can nestled down into the dirt beneath your fire pit, a slightly-larger tomato can with holes poked into the bottom of it resting on top. Then, after dropping all your resin in the upper can, you carefully built the fire up, placing a rock over the top of the can to act as a lid. The melting process could take a few hours, depending on the fire, so it was after sundown when you began to cautiously sift through the charcoal. You would need a few good, clean pieces to mix in with the now-filtered resin, in order to ensure some pliability remained.

You had interrupted the task at sunset, moving in an automatic way from the firepit to the fence to light the lantern. You could see the glow of it now out of the corner of your eye, even while you pored over the char. 

Maybe it does nothing but make me feel a little less alone. 

You stared down at your gloved hands full of blackened wood, blinking furiously when tears began to blur your vision. You continued, albeit a bit more clumsily, to separate out the cleanest chunks of charcoal, doing your best to make a neat little pile. 

A boot abruptly landed squarely in the middle of the pile and you couldn't help the terrified noise that left your mouth, scrambling to try and get to your feet. Before you could, though, the person dropped to their knees and wrapped their arms around you, trapping you in place. Wiry unkempt facial hair scuffed your cheek while you just sat there, frozen stiff with fear.

“Sugar.” 

Karl. 

Your breath caught in your throat. You felt his entire body shudder. “I couldn't remember if you were real.” His voice cracked. “I followed the light, but I couldn't–I'm…I'm so sorry, sugar. I'm so, so sorry, I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, I-I just-”

You silently returned his hug, sure that you were leaving charcoal stains on his clothes but not able to find it in you to care all that much. Karl stopped trying to speak after a few moments, the man sagging against you with his forehead resting on your shoulder. “Tell me in the morning, okay?” You whispered, relieved when he nodded. “Let's just get you inside.”

It wasn't much of a struggle to get him indoors, and he bedded down on his old cot without so much as a peep of complaint. He was filthy, but now wasn't the time for your hygiene regiment. He was clearly stripped for energy and worn out. Better to let this particular sleeping dog lie, at least for now.

…

Karl woke suddenly, whatever dream he had been having rapidly fading from his mind. He stared up at the ceiling, momentarily perplexed. Pine truss beams running lengthwise, the pattern of knots and wood grain achingly familiar. 

Sugar. 

He shoved himself into a sitting position, body still heavy from sleep, and saw you. 

You weren't really doing anything all that impressive. The stove door was ajar and you were busily tending the fire. But at that moment, Karl was certain he had never seen a more beautiful sight. “Sugar,” he rasped, voice gruff and drowsy. 

You turned to look at him, your eyes softening upon meeting his own. “Hey, Karl.”

Oh, he could fucking cry. Heisenberg huffed out a breath, feeling his heart twist in his chest. You lugged over the basin of water that had been sitting next to the stove (maybe to keep it warm?), toting a washcloth and the bar of soap as well. “Talk with me once you've sponged off.” You said, not unkindly. “You kinda’ smell like BO and dead animal.”

“I doubt it's a kind of level of smell.” Karl admitted wryly, making you snicker and nod. “Sorry about all this. You tend to smell like death if you're dead for a little while, after all.”

“I don't know if I would call two months and some change a ‘little while’. Also, dead?” You raised an eyebrow. 

Karl stared at you. Two months. Over two months. Gods almighty. 

You, seeming to register that the news was a shock to him, patted his knee. “Y'know what, worry about it later. Focus on the first thing and we can go from there. I'll make us some lunch.”

“Lunch?” 

You nodded, turning your wrist so he could see your watch. It was indeed a little after one in the afternoon. “Get washed up,” you reiterated softly. 

So Karl attempted to do so, flushing a little once he'd stripped and realized just how dirty he actually was. “Sugar?” He called, using the remains of his clothes to cover his groin just in case you turned around. Sure, sure you had seen him entirely naked before, but…

From the kitchen you replied, “yeah?” He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that you didn't look at him.

“I'm just going to throw myself in the river. I don't think this glorified bucket is going to cut it.” He reasoned. 

“Okay, you know where the towels are. Just make sure you go downstream a ways.”

The freezing water in the river was a far cry from the lukewarm comfort that the basin had held, but Karl was a little more certain in his cleanliness once he emerged, teeth chattering and body pink from scrubbing, from the pool that swirled and eddied alongside your far fenceline. Spreading out the worn towel once he had mostly dried himself off, Heisenberg took a moment to lay back on the riverbank and examine the new scars.

The cadou had healed him, of course, but now he was riddled with scars. He'd prided himself previously on his ability to guard quickly, to be able to adjust during a fight and use his powers to shield himself. But that many lycans, vârcolaci, in essentially total darkness…

He knew he was lucky to be alive at all, and that he shouldn't be so unsettled by a few new marks. He still couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He had never worried about his looks, it had never crossed his mind. His confidence in his abilities was so all-encompassing he hadn't considered the possibility, but what if you had only been attracted to his looks? You had vocalized interest in his appearance, after all.

Karl frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and noting even more unfamiliar raised areas. Maybe he would feel better once he got his facial hair under control. Once he looked like himself again, or some sort of approximation of it. First things first though, he would need to beg some clothes off of you.

…

You tore into a thick slice of bread, slathered with a little of the precious squirrel fat you had left and a healthy sprinkle of salt. Karl had vanished into your bedroom with the haircare kit, stating that he “felt more human, but could use a shape-up”.

He looked much too good for someone you had convinced yourself to be mad at. Truthfully your confusion and anger at being…well, abandoned, in your own terms, had ebbed substantially upon his arrival. He had seemed–breakable wasn't quite the right word. Maybe fragile? He had clearly been through hell, if nothing else. At that moment, you had decided to be merciful. You would hear him out. If you didn't like his answer, you could always show him the door.

Another bite was crammed into your mouth, and you focused on chewing furiously before your thoughts could wander any further. Cool it, hotshot, you scolded yourself mentally. Try to be normal about this.

Once Karl emerged from your room he gingerly settled into the seat across from you at the table. Wearing some borrowed, slightly ill-fitting clothes and sporting some uneven edges to his facial hair, the man didn't exactly cut an imposing figure. 

God, you had missed him so much.

To your surprise he entirely ignored the food in front of him, instead reaching across the table and clasping your free hand between his own. The look he leveled at you made you want to break eye contact, but stubbornly, you refused. He owed you this much, you reminded yourself with more than a touch of irritation.

“I'm sorry.” His voice was still raspy, but it seemed to be from disuse. “I…sugar I fucked up. I own that. I was scared.”

You gaped at him, thrown entirely off balance. The man who had faced down a horde of lycans, the man who could control metal with a look, a gesture–

Scared?

He wasn't done clearly, his grip on your hand tensing as he leaned in with an earnest expression. “You deserved better than what I did. You were–gods, you were so kind to me. Opened your home to me when I didn't know who I was. Opened yourself to me.” 

Were you blushing?! Dammit! 

“I know we didn't mean fuckall to one another, I get that it was…I guess a convenience, using each other for mutual benefit. But I-” Heisenberg paused, leaving you reeling. It was true though, wasn't it? Convenience. No emotions involved in it. “-I don't know what the hell happened.” He finally admitted, his voice soft. “I don't know when it changed for me. Whether it even changed at all, or if it was always like that and I was just ignoring it. I'm, uh, not exactly experienced here, and I guess I can blame it on that.”

“‘Experienced’ how?” You managed to ask, a hysterical giggle escaping you when he stuttered and fell silent. “Seriously?”

“This isn't how I-look, sugar, I figured me dying, me wiping out all those lycan freaks and probably dying in the process–I mean it wasn't great, but I thought I could at least be useful. I'm not…good.” His voice faded to an awkward mumble. “Good, like how you are.”

One thing at a time. You could process that later. “All the lycans?” The woods had been peaceful the last few months. You hadn't really thought…damn. 

Karl nodded, his jaw set in a grim line.

“You…You really thought you were gonna’ die?” You felt a little nauseous when he nodded again. “How? You're so tough!”

“I'd never fought the horde on their turf. They holed up in my factory after-” he gestured at himself. “-everything.” The man sighed heavily, rotating his shoulder. “Brought the house down on top of them and me. Not sure how long I fought them before then.”

“You've got to be shitting me.” You planted your palms on the table, shoving your chair out behind you from the force as you stood. “You went back there and nearly got yourself killed-”

“Yes.” Heisenberg cut you off. “I did, sugar, and I'd do it again.”

“Why though?” You exclaimed, incredulous.

“You really don't know?” He asked, sounding just as incredulous. “You try coming to a realization like I did when you're fucking–balls deep in someone!” His eyes widened, the man dropping his head to thud against the table after a moment of stunned silence. “Dammit,” he snarled, his voice muffled.

“W-what realization?” You knew you should probably leave it alone. It was an invasive question and, despite the intimacy the two of you had shared, an apology was already on your lips when it was cut off by a loud groan from Karl.

“That I–that you–” the man floundered, then suddenly jerked his head up to fix you with an appropriately-intense look. “I think I love you.”

What.

What?!

Your shoulders dropped, hands slack on the tabletop. You stared at Karl, but all he did was stare back at you, his gaze one of weary resignation.

I think I love you. 

“S-So–” Gods, when had your mouth become so dry?! “So you don't know?” You half-squeaked, half-choked on the words.

“I've never felt this way before,” was his blunt reply. “I can only infer from the evidence.” He didn't seem thrilled about the circumstances, but maybe that could also be chalked up to his lack of experience.

“Is it…are you okay with it?”

Karl's brow furrowed, and then he offered you a slow, firm nod. “...yeah. Had a lot of time to think during my walk back. Even if you…I mean, if you think I'm gross-looking now, that's okay. I'd understand.”

You blinked, entirely baffled. Gross? Sure, he had a few new scars on his face. They only stood out to you because the tissue was still pink, unlike the silvery lines that had littered his visage before. But that wasn't gross, not to you anyway. 

Karl was still talking however, and it seemed that he was picking up speed. “Sugar, I showed up, an unknown, a starving wolf at your door and yet you showed me kindness, even if it was just a favor for that fat bastard at first. You fed me from your own damn plate, let me take comfort in you.” His words hitched momentarily when he continued, “I was just so–so twisted and broken, I didn't understand that you could offer with open hands. I didn't understand what you had given me and then I realized as I was throwing myself at the lycan hive that…I was an idiot. It wasn't that I wanted to die, I wanted to live! I'd never wanted to live so much in my damn life, so I could get back to you, so I could apologize, so I could–” Heisenberg's fists clenched, the man soldiering on doggedly, “so I could tell you how I…felt. How I think I feel.”

“So you could tell me that you love me.” You were reeling. 

“Yes.” His broad shoulders caved a little, the man shrinking into himself. “And now you know. Now I know. But I don't know what to do. I've never…this hasn't happened before.”

You picked up your glass of water and drained it in one long gulp, attempting to buy time while your brain ran through a million possibilities at once. Your main takeaway, however, was simple. He loves me. A warm sensation flooded your body, tingling down to your fingertips. He loves me. “Want me to offer some input?” You asked, your steps light as you rounded the table. 

Heisenberg nodded dully, his eyes fixed on the bowl of stew in front of him. You gently brought your hands up to cup his chin, tilting his face so you could meet his gaze. You found no regret in that stare, only apprehension, which was immensely heartening.

“Next time you have a realization like that, talk to me.” You said in a sweet tone, the ‘loving’ pat you gave him on the cheek not quite a smack. “Don't pull something like that again…and I'll let you stay with me.”

“You…what, seriously?” Karl demanded, his eyes widening. “You'll let me stay here? Even after-”

“Don't push your luck,” you warned, blowing a raspberry at him when he began to laugh incredulously. “This isn't a vacation, after all! You'll need to fix holes in the roof, help me with the supplies every year, check the traps-”

Karl swept you up in a hungry kiss, effectively cutting off your eternal to-do list. “That all sounds wonderful, sugar.” He murmured against your lips. “Let me finish lunch and I'll get right on it.”

Thoroughly flustered, you stammered out in protest, “i-i-it's not going to be easy, Karl! Don't agree to this unless you understand the burden of responsibility you're taking on.”

“I do.” He insisted around his first mouthful of bread. “I pr’mise.”

…

He wasn't certain where your underwear had gone, but he was immensely grateful for its absence. You leaned forward, taking his dick out of your mouth for a second to catch your breath and Karl forced your knees to slide out on either side of him with his forearms so he could draw his tongue along your cunt. His thumbs spread you open, the man rumbling when he felt your breath hitch. Then, Karl delved his tongue into you, making you moan and whimper around his dick while he slowly, slowly ate you out.

Karl could feel his heartbeat in his neck when your thighs suddenly snapped shut around his head, hips rocking back and forth as you ground yourself against his mouth. Finally, someone who could be as greedy as he was.

His own hips bucked upwards, driving his cock into your throat mercilessly while you continued to attempt to crush his skull. Your thighs were trembling, body undulating helplessly. All Karl could do was urge you onward and that's exactly what he did, his voice a low burr against your cunt as he demanded that you come for him. It didn't matter that you'd already come before, it didn't matter that you were still sloppy and fucked-out from his previous, extremely enthusiastic efforts. Karl wanted more and he knew you did too.

Your pelvis lurched abruptly, breath coming in sharp little gasps as you began to climax. The former Lord growled in satisfaction, clasping his hands up over your thighs to pin you where you were as you rode out your orgasm. 

“Mmm, told you that you had one more in you,” he hummed, grinning when you whined your annoyance at him. “Shh, no complaining sugar, or I'll wring another one out of you for fun.” As if to prove his point Karl slid a finger into you, using it to massage your still-trembling walls. You whimpered but made no attempt to wriggle away from him, so Heisenberg simply carried on gently stroking his finger in and out of your entrance. “One more, sugar, c'mon, match me.” The man teased, his eyes half-lidding when you took his dick in hand once more.

“You're ridiculous-” You panted. He could hear the laughter in your words despite your evident breathlessness. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sugar.” Karl patted your leg, guiding you to turn around and slide back down to straddle his thighs. He then sat up slightly, meeting you halfway in a hungry kiss. “I love you,” he sighed, finding his eyes still searching your own for reassurance. 

But then you smiled at him, knocking your forehead gently against his own. “And I love you, Karl.”

I love you. 

“‘Course you do,” Karl breathed, half to himself. You rolled your eyes at him and your wry chuckle was music to his ears, as was your singsong reply.

“Of course I do.”

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #slow burn #epilogue

[chuulyssa]

coffee? (l lawliet)

↷ ASK ─ L and reader met at a cafe where L is a regular but reader is a new recruit at the cafe as a waitress who is being harrassed by some dudes and L steps in just to get feelings for her.

★ COUNT ─ 1.2k

!! TAGS ─ l lawliet x reader, slight harassment, catcalling, degrading (not by l), cliffhanger ending because im an asshole (also im a lazy bitch sorry)

★ PROLOGUE ─ stepping in to help without the security of a mask teaches a detective how to love

L settled into his favourite spot at the cozy café. He felt the familiar sense of comfort wash over him. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of undecipherable conversation surrounded him, leaving him in complete relaxation. It was days like this that helped take his mind off murders and mysteries and sink deep within solace and peace.

He let out a content sigh and reached for his book, ready to lose himself in its pages, when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Hello, welcome to our café. My name is Y/N, and I'll be your waitress today. May I take your order?"

L glanced up to see a new face smiling warmly at him, your name tag proudly displaying your name. He couldn't help but return your smile with a small one himself, an action which was quite unusual, even for his own standards.

"Hello, Y/N," L replied with a nod. "I'll just have my usual, please."

"Um... your usual?" you blinked, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I'm-"

"Ah, it's alright, I figured as much," L waved a hand. "A black coffee."

You wrote it down on your little notepad. "Anything else?"

"Well..." L trailed off, thinking. He never really cared much about the other items on the menu. This time, however, to his own amusement, he found himself asking, "What would you recommend?"

"Huh? I- um," you were caught off-guard. In your defense, it was only your first day as an employee. How were you supposed to answer this customer now? "I suppose... a croissant?"

"Great choice," L nodded. "Please add that to my order."

"Okay!"

After you left, L was left wondering why in the world he ordered a croissant of all things. He could already picture Watari shaking his head at the fact that a million croissants could have been ordered in a second if he had said so. Still, L shrugged and looked over at the counter, grumbling internally when he didn't find you there.

.

The soft clinking of silverware and porcelain from the kitchen reminded him of how empty his stomach was. L's gaze returned to his book, one foot tapping on the ground in a firm rhythm. As soon as you came back with his order, he took it without a word. He smiled, albeit slightly, before taking a small bite of the croissant.

"It's quite nice actually," he muttered watching you retreat to another table, surprised because he didn't usually compliment any kind of food.

Your evening shift was coming to an end. While you were packing up and getting ready to leave and call it a day, a sudden ring from the front door of the cafe signaled another customer. You sighed before throwing your apron back on and hurrying towards the table.

Upon reaching there, you realized that it wasn't just one customer, but a whole group of men, probably in their early 20s. You wondered why they'd be here of all places - in a cafe, that is, and not at some bar getting wasted. Still, pushing those thoughts aside, you bent over slightly to talk to the nearest person, inquiring about their order.

The group of men gave a few whistles and even a few catcalls as you conversed. From the corner of your eye, you could see many of them staring at your behind, and you immediately straightened up uncomfrotably.

“Well, well,” one of them snickered as he glanced you over. “If it isn't the new, cute waitress. Hey, why don't you come over here and join us? There’s plenty of room on this table.”

You blinked at him, trying not to punch him in the face. "I'm sorry, sir. We aren't authorized to be-"

"Ack, stop that silly talk. I don't understand nothin' of what you're trynna say," his words were slurred by the alcohol in his system, while you looked for ways to get out of this situation.

The rest of them were eyeing you up and down as they laughed amongst themselves, seemingly amused by their companion’s crude behaviour. Their eyes were like sharks circling their prey, searching for a chance to seize it.

“Ah, come on now,” another one spoke up, giggling. “You can take a break, right? It’s not like anyone’s going to notice if you’re gone for a few minutes. So what do you say? You join us, and we have some fun?”

"Um, I'll have to decline, sorry-"

"Hello," a quiet voice interrupted. The men turned to look at the new addition to their conversation, jeering.

"You want some fun too? It's alright, join us. We won't mind," one of the men laughed.

"Leave her alone," L was surprised at his own willingness to go out of his way to help you. After all, he had just met you, so there was no way he had already become 'attached' to you, right?

Right?

"Woah, woah, chill, mate," one of them said with a smirk. "Who are you - her boyfriend? Her bodyguard?"

The men laughed along, and another one added, "Yeah, man. Stop ruining the fun."

"She said no, alright? So back off."

The other men snickered. The air was filled with a tense silence as L and the drunkard stared intently at each other.

The drunkard scoffed, “Nah, man, for real though. What’re you, her boyfriend or something? Don’t even bother, dude. With a face like that, you’re obviously not the type the bitches want.”

L felt a strange sensation of anger and irritation as a muscle in his jaw clenched. Did he just dare to call you a bitch? He kept his face unreadable as he met the drunkard’s gaze again.

The drunkard smirked. “Oh? Did I hit a sore spot there? Do I need to repeat myself? There’s no way that bitc would go for a guy like-"

SMACK! The drunkard fell out of his chair, and you could have sworn you saw a few teeth fly off. L's foot had landed straight to his jaw and knocked the man off his feet.

The other three men sat still as they stared at L, a mixture of shock and disbelief written on them.

L looked down at the still unconscious drunkard with a stone-cold expression, as if he was used to knocking people out with his boots.

The three men looked at each other, unsure of how to react.

"W-we're leaving," one of them said finally, grabbing his drunk companion by the arms and dragging him out of the café.

Your hands were clasped onto your mouth, genuinely shocked, but also trying to hide a little smile that threatened to be seen by the others.

The café had fallen silent. It was only broken by the sound of the front door closing and the sound of footsteps outside.

L's gaze snapped up as he looked at you. It was like his senses were finally coming back to his body. He cleared his throat and turned towards you again, his demeanour shifting into its usual emotionless state.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yea," you said, taking your hands off your mouth awkwardly. "That was a... um... clean kick."

L looked at you as if he could suddenly see you in a completely different light. Why did he step in to help you? Why did he lash out at your customers? Heck, why did he even stay that long in the cafe?

He frowned at the new emotion that was building up in him. What was this feeling that he, the greatest detective ever, could not figure out?

With a timid sigh, L closed his eyes briefly before opening them and mumbling a little, "Thank you."

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

@nezuko-kamado-cute-demon

#l lawliet #l lawiet #dn lawliet #l lawilet #ryuzaki #death note #l x reader #l x you #l x y/n #death note lawliet #lawliet x reader #ryuzaki lawliet #l death note #l #ask

[vainvenus]

⌲;꒰ Groovy! ꒱

Pairing :: Johnny Cade x Fem!Reader

Synopsis :: Johnny starts to crush on Dally's new friend who's a little bit different from everyone else.

Includings :: Hippie!reader, mutual pinning, readers love languages is personal touch, wingman!Dally, panicking!Johnny, this is kinda short, fluff

An - I'm just trying to drop/finish my drafts even though i think this fandom is practically dead...send outsiders requests if you'd like though!

"I still don't get all that peace and love crap, it's not gonna solve anything." Dally scoffed as he walked beside the you and you shrugged your shoulders.

"You don't have to understand me. If you think fighting will solve everything I'll let you think that." You shrugged and Dally rolled his eyes slightly before his brows raised a little bit and he waved his hand up at a figure who was a few feet away.

"Johnny! That you, man?" He called out and the black hair boy froze like he was caught doing something illegal until he saw a familiar face and he eased up.

He walked over, looking over to the you. He took quick notice of your wardrobe, upi didn't look like too much like a Soc and you definitely couldn't of been a greaser.

You wore a white shirt that seemed a few sizes to big and bell bottom jeans that had multiple patches of different patterns along them and tan sandals. You had multiple necklaces on and a mute orange bandana.

You smiled softly at him and waved your fingers at him which made him stomach flutter a little bit.

"Aww, so you weren't lyin'! You do have friends~!" Yoi giggled, hitting the boy softly on the shoulder and the brunette rolled his eyes with a small snarl.

"Haha, so funny. Johnny, flower power. Flower power, Johnny."

"Flower power?" Johnny repeated as he shook your hand and you let out a short giggle which made his stomach flutter all over again.

"Not my real name of course, it's a nickname. My real name is [Y/n] but you can call me whatever ya' like."

"Ohh." Johnny nodded along, noticing how you still hadn't let go of his hand. Yours were warm and felt comfort at touch. "I...uh..I like your pants."

You beamed, letting go and shaking your leg a little. "Really? Dally thinks they look like an art project gone wrong."

"Because they do." Dally muttered and you rolled your eyes.

"I think they're far out, you're such a downer Dally! Hah! Downer Dally!" You laughed and Dally had let out a sarcastic chuckle with another eye roll. "Ahah. Almost busted a lung there."

"See? A downer. Johnny-man thought it was funny." You turned back to Johnny, messing with one of the loose patches on your jeans. "I could make ya' a pair- actually they probably wouldn't be your sty-"

"I'd like that!" Johnny piped up before you could shut the idea down and your eyes widened in surprised, you smiled at him. "Really?"

He nodded, smiling growing along with yours. "Groovy! I'll get onto it as fast as I can."

"Groovy?" Johnny repeated, tilting his head a little bit and you nodded. "Groovy, it's kinda like when y'all say tuff. It's just a good thing."

"Oh, groovy." Johnny said and you had giggled, patting his shoulder.

"You make it sound so weird like it's a different language or something. It's kinda cute." Johnny only smiled, trying to ignore the fact that you had called him cute.

Dally looked between the two of you, narrowing his eyes a little bit before a small smirk itched onto the end of his lips.

"Johnny, you wanna tag along with us? We were just about to head and see that new movie that just came out."

"You should, if you don't mind horror movies." You added and Johnny pressed his lips together in a small yet strained smile.

"Naw, I don't mind."

★

"I could have paid for y'all, you know. We didn't have to break in." You sighed and Dally chuckled.

"Now where's the fun in that?" He hummed as they all took their seats, a little bit away from the front.

"What kind of horror movie is it again?" Johnny asked and Dally shrugged his shoulders. He never really came to pay attention to the movies, he came to be a bother to those who were trying to.

"Some sort of slasher. Shouldn't be too frightening if you're scared."

"I'm not scared!" Johnny squeaked and you had giggled, leaning back in the chair.

"It's alright if you are. I wouldn't judge. You can even hold my hand if you want." You offered as the movie had and started. Johnny pursed his lips before he took your hand in his.

"I'm just holding yer' hand in case you get scared." He established and you had nodded, entwining your fingers with his their hands were basically locked together.

He smiled at that as he tried to focus on one thing.

Not looking like a scaredy cat.

But the movie was barley ten minutes in before Johnny had jumped back in his seat from the killer jumping out of nowhere, his scream muffled in the collar of his jean jacket.

He glanced over at you as he felt you squeeze his hand comfortingly. "Sorry.." He mumbled, his sunkissed skin growing warm from embarrassment.

"Don't apologize. You don't have to act all tough for me, Johnny. It's a horror movie for a reason." You reassured with a small smile as you moved closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Next time we can see something a little more relaxing."

"Next time?" He repeated like it was a foreign statement.

You nodded excitedly. "Yeah, next time! Do ya' not wanna see me again or something?"

"No!" Johnny quickly said. "I'd.. I'd love to see a movie with you again."

"Groovy."

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #johnny cade #Johnny Case x reader

[mono-dot-jpeg]

stop playing league - k. kenma

summary; a callout to me and my fellow league players. (not league enjoyers. players.)

genre/extra tags; one shot(?)/drabble, fluff, comedy, slight crack, kenma (kind of) slanders riot games and you, relationship unestablished and unmentioned, if you know the games cool (i hate valorant), self indulgent

[can be interpreted as romantic or platonic] [gender never mentioned] [i make many references to different games and use game terms, sorry]

word count; 489

a/n; no one except for league players can make fun of league in this post now, i make the rules and enforce them. (/hj) you ever think abt the difference between making fun of your favorite things and someone else doing it? yeah it's like that basically. i genuinely like the characters league has to offer, but people always think i like the game. (i play it but i usually end up hating most sessions)

"don't you dare hit that button."

your cursor hovers over the fated "find match" button. the button that has been torturing you for at least a few hours now. your dying urge to play "one more game" has you in a chokehold when you just want to win once.

"kenma..." you whine. the pudding head is playing a much more chill game compared to yours, which was slime rancher. it was a little bit nerve-wracking with how easily he almost slipped off ledges, deal with the occasional tarr slime, or the adorably angry slimes in certain paths. but nonetheless, it's a much healthier game to play than league. "it's not like i can even play slime rancher with you, it's not multi-player. just let me have this. i'm gonna win this time. surely. i'll switch to val after this, promise."

"you still won't be playing with me because i don't play valorant." you can imagine his cat-like glare staring at you through the screen. "and you rarely play tft and legends of runeterra."

"it gets me dizzy, alright?! and also you should know how painful it is to get those annoying people who hold my three stars from me!" you pause when he mentions the card game, "the card game isn't that bad. just not my favorite. what about overwatch?"

"isn't the new hog rework annoying?"

"that's... it's something. what about plate up?"

"you're gonna rage."

"stardew?"

"you're too lazy to update your mods."

"shut the fuck up, actually." you hissed at him as he huffs out a laugh. "i'm waiting for the next update. i think everyone is at this point."

"literally play anything but league for fucks sake, y/n."

"but cute neeko skin.." you pretend to cry, "i just want to play my sillies. maybe even win a game, dare i say." you angrily wave your mouse over your screen. kenma watches your screen share, unamused.

"you spent money on that skin."

"WRONG, I SPENT MONEY ON ONE OVERWATCH SKIN AND TWO BATTLEPASSES."

"still spent money."

"that's a lot of backtalk coming from you. you buy skins and dlc too. you're not clean either." despite kenma trying to prolong the inevitable, you click "find match" and sit back and wait as kenma groans in annoyance. "your signs can't stop me because i can't read." you read the burst of notifications in discord of kenma and your friends making fun of you for even playing league willingly. "fuck y'all. god forbid, i have a hobby." you huffed.

"it's league."

"just let me play my silly champions in peace, kenma! you don't see me judging you for picking sebastian every stardew save!"

"he's not even that bad!"

"you always steal him from me!"

"you don't deserve him!"

"fuck you!"

"fuck you!"

a blanket of silence falls over you both as you end your silly bickering.

"you wanna play a pokemon soul link run after your match?"

"fuck you, yeah i do."

#haikyuu kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #kozume kenma x reader #haikyuu kenma #kenma x reader #kozume kenma #haikyuu kenma x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x male reader

[redbayly]

Had to do another rambling because some Antis got their panties in a twist.

After posting my very clearly tagged Zutara headcanons last night, I saw a post in the Zutara tag this morning where some Antis were ranting about their usual nonsense.

I would've just blocked and moved on, but something caught my attention about the post. I realized what they were talking about was very likely a reference to my post from last night.

I don't remember all the details (I did end up blocking them), but the crux of their complaint was that Zutara shippers steal Kataang dynamics or something. Specifically, they were calling out a recent post about Katara and Zuko traveling around helping people (which I talked a lot about in my post, so that's why I think it was me they were calling out) and that that is exclusively a Kataang thing that I stole and applied to Zutara. Also, someone in the comments had added that, if Zuko ever did go around helping people it would only be with Mai.

There was also a lot of whining about seeing Zutara stuff when they were looking for Kataang. As if I hadn't clearly tagged my post as Zutara and even used the word within the first few sentences to let the reader know what the post was about.

(For pity's sake, moderate your tags or skip over something with a tag you don't like! It's not difficult!).

But back to the main argument that Zuko and Katara wouldn't travel around helping people together and that that is exclusive to Kataang.

That is absolute bullshit.

First off, it was a headcanon of mine and I can headcanon what I damn well please (as can everybody else).

Secondly, what even is that argument they were making? Did they completely ignore the fact that both Zuko and Katara are good-hearted, helpful people who are trying to make the world a better place? We see numerous instances in canon of them helping others for the sole reason that it's just their nature to do so. In fact, if anything, they are more likely to seek out people to help out of pure altruism than Aang, who usually just sort of stumbles across people in trouble and helps because it's his job as Avatar.

(I'm not insulting Aang. I'm just saying that he's more likely to goof off and avoid getting involved in something if he thinks it's not serious enough, whereas Katara and Zuko are more likely to leap at opportunities to be helpful).

A third reason this is ridiculous is that Aang doesn't own a monopoly on doing good or helping the world. Zuko was already planning to make changes to heal the damage the Fire Nation caused. He's an "idealist with a pure heart and unquestionable honor." Do the Antis really think he would sit around on his ass while there are orphans to feed and towns to rebuild and justice to be restored? Also, why would Katara not be out there doing her all to help the world regardless of whether Aang is involved or not? Katara "never turns her back on people who need [her]" so I doubt she'd let anyone decide for her whether she travels around to fix people's problems.

I could go on and on about why this Anti-Zutara argument was stupid, but I've addressed the main points.

So, I'll say this one last time. If you dislike Zutara, read the damn tags and avoid the post you don't want to see. Don't whine about it and make up nonsensical arguments for your faux outrage. Leave Zutara shippers alone and let us have our headcanons.

You already got your ship in Bryke's canon. Just let us enjoy our headcanons in peace.

#zutara #zuko x katara #zuko #katara #pro katara #pro zuko #katara defense squad #katara deserved better #the antis are at it again #avatar headcanons #avatar the last airbender #redbayly

[manysketchbook]

Firffels: the Wuzzles Competitor That Disappeared

Recently, I found this toy at my local thrift store. I thought it was an oddly cute nativity toy, but upon closer inspection the tush tag read "FIRFFELS. I'm glad to be a SHAMEL." I did a quick search online and the first result was this page on Ghost of the Doll, a toy collector's site that archives information about 80s/90s toys and includes a forum where anyone can seek help with identifying toys. This lead me down a rabbit hole of figuring out just what Firffels were: a failed line of toys promised to be the next hot phenomenon, with minimal documentation online and a handful of toys floating around in thrift stores.

Other than Ghost of the Doll, I found info about Firffels in this 2010 blog post by Trish Babbles (written in an edgy, mean-to-be-funny style that I think is too uncharitable, but it was a different time to be online lol) and this blog post by AF Blog. My other info comes from Othello Bach's website dedicated to the book itself (her personal site is no longer functional) and from a handful of youtube videos I found of a Firffels commercial. Many thanks to these sources, without them there'd be like, nothing online about these creatures.

Firffels are based on the children's book Who ever Heard of a Fird? by Othello Bach, first edition published in 1984 by Caedmon Childrens Books (upon Googling, it appears that Caedmon is owned by HarperCollins now and focuses on audiobooks). The story follows Fird, a fish-bird hybrid, as he travels the world to find other firds. Along the way he encounters a goofy, lovable cast of other hybrid animals who have all never heard of a fird. The story ends with fird learning to love his uniqueness and find peace with being who he is. As is apparent in the Amazon link above (not sponsored, just showing my work), a used copy is $86 dollars right now. An audiobook narrated by Joel Grey (an actor that I'm unfamiliar with who is apparently known for his role in Cabaret) was also released on cassette, listed on Ebay for $75+. Luckily, there is a youtube video of someone doing a complete read through of the book, but the camera angle is poor. This is the only visual record I could find online of the interior illustrations by Michelle Dorman, other than a brief look at a few in a low quality VHS promo rip I'll get to in a minute, and the image below from an Ebay listing. There may be a few more photos in some Etsy listings that I missed.

In Trish's blog post they complain that Shamel is an ugly monstrosity and there were a few comments on Ghost of the Doll's forum of the same nature about Shamel, but I think Shamel is the cutest one! It just looks like a new breed of camel, meanwhile Fird in the background here is...he's so cartoonishly goofy. Idk how else to describe him. He's so fuckin' goofy. He'd make squeaky Spongebob-esque sound effects when he walks, I imagine.

The book was allegedly a hit and Remco bought the merchandising rights. They went all in, as is detailed in the 5 minute promotional video below. Based on a cast of 6 characters, plush toys and posable action figures hit the market with a promise that Hanna Barbera would develop an animated tv show starring Firffels, housewares would be made, there'd be a clothing line, and Design-a-Firffel contests would be held. A few housewares seem to have been made and plush toy sewing patterns were released, but I was unable to find evidence that anything else moved forward.

Absolutely fucking insane fact: according to this video, Caedmon Publishing was owned by Raytheon at the time. Thanks Raytheon for these cuddly children's toys and also, uh, horrific weapons of war?

After I bought Shamel, I went back to the store to see if there were more. There were! I found Bertle and Elephonkey, who still had the original tags. I swear the day earlier I had seen a frog toy with butterfly wings but it wasn't there anymore. I remember passing over it and thinking "eh, butterfly wings on a frog aren't cute," and did not bothering even looking at the tags. My mistake. Turns out that toy was worth a decent amount of money and was part of this whole story.

Bertle's pink belly super bright in real life, like neon. There is a sunbleached spot on it's front.

Elephonkey is the only one with original tags. I also included an image of the tush tag. For each toy the tush tag is the same but displays the character's name.

Hybrid animals are not a unique concept. Wuzzles, a line of plush toys that were animal hybrids with wings and likely made to compete with Care Bears, are brought up in most posts and forums where Firffels are mentioned--usually to disparage Firffels as being knock off, less successful Wuzzles. Wuzzles weren't exactly successful either, though they definitely lasted longer and had more reach, likely due to the backing of a Disney/Hasbro budget. AF Blog in 2015 makes a good point that I agree with: it's unlikely that Wuzzles and Firffels were ripping each other off due to production timelines. Toy lines can be in development for years before any information is made public. It takes a long time to design toys, then get them to a manufacturer, then go through the revisions process. Not to mention the time it takes to ship things out, negotiate contracts at every step of the way, etc. And, as AF Blog notes, Whoever Heard of a Fird? was released in 1984, a year before the first Wuzzles tv episode aired, and Firffels hit the market a year later.

People draw hybrid animals all the time. For example, furry adoptable artists draw hybrids all the time (take a shot every time you find a closed species that is a feline with a fish tail or deer feet or some other animal's defining trait), the Lego movie had Unikitty, and I literally went to Walmart today and in the toy section there was a miniature rabbit-like rainbow animal with wings and a unicorn horn there. The thing that makes these toys potentially appealing, in my opinion, is that they choose safe and popular traits: sparkly horns and feathery wings, for the most part. Things that are easily marketable.

The thing with Firffels is that they combined animals with traits that are less immediately appealing. Image below from Ghost of the Doll.

Some of them are cute but the others miss the mark. Personally I like Shamel and Bertle (the plush version only tbh).

Worth pointing out is that the character illustrations do not match the toy designs. If you go back and watch the commercials included in the 5 minute promo video, you can see that the Bertle plush and action figure are brown and green rather than pink and blue, and that Shamel's hair is brown instead of purple. I saw varied photos of the Butterfrog plush: some were lighter green while others were darker. Could be an issue with differing cameras, but I don't know for certain. And then there's Elephonkey, who is the most inconsistent of the bunch:

The first image is the prototype toy as it appears in the commercial. It is grey and flesh colored, with odd looking plastic hair. The second image is from Ghost of the Doll, of how the Elephonkey action figure actually appeared in stores. Third is a photo of my Elephonkey plush. Compare it with the official character art...well, he's not my favorite design in any incarnation.

I think the toys in the commercials were prototypes that were changed to brighter colors so as to appeal more towards girls. In the 30 second plush commercial there are 4 girl actors and 1 boy actor, with the camera shots getting closer to and focusing more on the girls' faces, so it would make sense. In contrast, the action figure commercial features 1 girl and 2 boys, and most of the camera shots are of the kids' hands playing with the toys, giving off a more boyish, gender-neutral vibe. Classics of gendered marketing, am I right? lol. But I think the change was a good one. I wouldn't have picked up Shamel if I hadn't seen the purple hair, and I definitely would not like Bertle if he wasn't pink. It gives the toys more of a cohesive style, a unique identity, and they fit in more alongside the Wuzzles/Care Bears visuals with the vibrant, happy colors. There's more of a toy-like quality to them, which increases the cuddle-ability and inspires more of an urge to play.

Discovering and logging all this inconsistency has been pretty fun. But it makes me think that these toys were probably doomed by a chaotic, unorganized development process behind the scenes. And given that the book was published in '84 and toys hit the market in '85...the signs seem to point to production being rushed.

To be fair to Firffels, it was probably a little harder in the 80s to hit it big with kids. You had to be lucky, you had to have connections with the right distributors, you had to anticipate what is universally appealing to children--one of the most unpredictable audiences out there--and you had to pay to air your commercials during prime child viewing hours. These are all things that are still true, but we have the internet now and the advertising power of the internet is scary. Going viral on TikTok has the potential to skibidi someone's toilet career. iPad babies are growing up into grade school kids who throw birthday parties every year and get toys as gifts. We are living in an era where mass-producing cheap little polyester plushies and plastic figures is easier than ever and corporations have massive budgets to pump into kids' eyeballs through every advertising avenue they possibly can. They don't even need to come up with the designs anymore, they can just partner with whatever Roblox game is popular right now and capitalize on that. Maybe Othello Bach should get on Roblox.

Actually, it appears that Bach was given the short end of the stick by the time Firffels were pulled. Though her personal website is no longer up, her other website dedicated entirely to Whoever Heard of a Fird? has some info:

At the height of Fird's success, with over 100 licensees cramming the store shelves with children’s merchandise and an animation contract with Hanna-Barbera, the book and all the merchandise suddenly vanished from the shelves.  Although she lost the rights to several other published children’s books at the same time, Othello has never received a reasonable explanation for what happened.

So this passage actually clears something up for me. This whole time something that hasn't really lined up is that I had assumed that Othello Bach published the book first and then was approached for merchandising rights after the book sold well. I actually think now it's possible that from the get-go the book was written with the intention for it to become a worldwide sensation. Not so much Bach's intent, though. I have some professional familiarity with licensing and other such creative publishing contracts, particularly with books. Based on what I know, I believe it's more likely that Bach pitched her manuscript to Caedmon Publishing and Caedmon, seeking to create popular IP, was like, "this has potential and we are going to sign you on not only for the book, but for more." That might be why the character designs are so strange: they were trying too hard to get famous quick and had instructed the illustrator (it is regular practice for publishers to pair authors with an illustrator and given how much was on the line for this IP, Bach might not've had much input here) to design characters that could also become toys. It's unlikely that Michelle Dorman, a kids book illustrator, had product design skills needed to make standout, awesome toy designs. Not a knock on her, illustrators just have niches within their field that they're best at it. It's why you see so many illustrators complain about how often they get approached to design logos--that's not what we do, thank you.

What's sad is that clearly Bach had signed a bad contract that gave away most of her rights as the writer to the publisher. She openly says so above. My guess is that Caedmon told her they needed more rights than usual to be able to conduct so much merchandising (like signing contracts with Remco, much easier to do when you don't have a third party also involved), and because they were pouring so much effort into it on their end. Bach is just the writer, so while the original idea is hers, Caedmon would have matched her with an illustrator and taken charge of all the licensing and merchandising. For a publisher this is a huge commitment financially and personnel-wise, so it makes sense why they would have put forth a contract that gave them so many rights. If Firffels had become as popular as they'd hoped, they don't want to not own the IP. They would have poured all those resources into it and not be able to reap all the rewards because that pesky author would own it. It's almost like contracts like these are predatory and only serve the interests of the publisher. Almost like publishers are companies existing in a capitalistic system and therefore only serve profit, not people. Almost like companies will never truly have artist's best interests at heart, and if you are ever to sign a contract with a big publisher you need to have a good lawyer by your side.

It makes me so sad to read that they didn't even give her a reasonable explanation as to why everything was cancelled. She does not even appear to have any of the merchandise on hand, as all the photos on her website are from Ghost of the Doll. In hindsight we can guess, obviously, why the cancellation happened but I'm in the moment it was probably upsetting. It's still upsetting, given that she has included this in her website for the...revamped book!

However, like Fird, Othello refused to give up. For the next 20 years, she tried to regain the rights to her work. Entertainment attorneys assured her it would never happen.  They said, "It can't be done!" But... it could be done and Othello did it, regaining the rights back to all her work.

Yeah, so, I actually think this is the saddest part about the whole thing. She managed to get some of the rights back and republished the book with...new art...that looks so fucking BAD. Image from her website:

Sorry to this illustrator, but got damn. There is no sauce to this art whatsoever. It is unseasoned, not even salt and pepper. This looks like ass and would never fucking fly with any editor worth their chops. It took me ages to figure out that the long yellow curved line is Fird's tail. Like, this is so unbelievably sad to me. I don't even really like the original art a whole lot, but compared to this...

My informed guess as to what happened is that Bach lawyered up and fought. As we know, Caedmon is now owned by HarperCollins. I can't say for certain but there was probably some case to be made that Caedmon being sold breached the contract, or nullified parts of it, or perhaps the contract expired. It could even just be that HarperCollins didn't care about an old, unprofitable IP and granted Bach her rights back. There is also Remco to consider: they also hold some of the rights, but probably just for the merchandise? Given how prominently their logo is displayed on the toy tags, they might actually own a significant share. Perhaps they were happy not to have anything to do with the book so long as the merch rights weren't touched. I don't know! There's no info about it on the site and this stuff is usually under NDA.

So Bach got her rights back, but she's just the writer. She doesn't own any of the art, so in order to republish the book she had to hire a new illustrator. She likely did not have a huge budget for it, maybe even paying for it out of her pocket because the Choice Books logo she has in several spots on the Fird website appears to be for a distribute on demand service, in place of a traditional publisher.

As the writer, she also would not have gotten the rights to use the original audiobook, so she had one re-recorded. It also appears like she does not have the rights to the name "Firffels" either, as the only places it appears on the site are in photographs of merchandise and in titles specifically referring to the work that is still owned by Caedmon. She carefully refers to her own work as "Fird" for short or the book's full title, probably because she cannot legally imply that she owns or made anything else.

I dug into this thinking it would be a quick look at some strange, forgotten toys from a bygone era. Instead I found a story about how an artist can so easily be shafted by publishers. Everything always loops back around to workers' rights, it seems. Stories like this about shitty publishing contracts (see: Webtoon if you want to get into something current) still appear so often, man. It's depressing, and indicative that the publishing industry needs some reforming ASAP. Like, Illustrators, when are we getting a proper union?

But I'm glad Bach got her rights back and got her book republished within her lifetime. I'm sad she didn't have the budgets for a better illustrator. Sorry to bring that up again, I work as an illustrator irl and I have opinions about craft, lol. Also I just think that given how hard Bach had to fight, she deserved to have better art made. That being said, here's another link to her current website. There's not much there but what is there is a monument to a battle she fought and won, and is proud of.

The lack of detailed, clear, centralized documentation of these toys frustrates me. One of the most frustrating things about the internet for me is that there are few easily accessible, publicly available archives of toys--even for modern toys. I've had to use Amazon reviews and Ebay listings and broken online stores to decipher publication years. With this in mind I decided to do a write up and provide clearer pictures of the toys that I have (I'll take hi res pics in natural lighting too someday). Archives are important to me and the internet kinda sucks for it, I say as someone who started this blog for that purpose. If Tumblr goes down, so does everything I've posted here. As an artist who works primarily digitally, one of the scariest things is knowing that I'm laboring over an ephemeral body of work. It's just not going to exist for very long unless I print it out on archival materials. Data is not the same as a physical object. My Firffels have survived for 39 years but the digital art I draw every day is unlikely to last past 10 years because websites die and files get deleted.

I bought the Firffels from my thrift store thinking I'd resell them. I'm low income so I sell many of the things I thrift. I prefer to buy the older toys or the ones that need cleaning because it makes me feel better about being a reseller (I don't want to take away options from low income kids in my area, ya know?). But I'm putting in the labor to freshen them up and I'm putting in the effort to make unavailable toys available again, at least for one person. And I don't have a whole lot of shelf space to display the toys in my collection...but for now I think I'll keep them.

#80s #80s toys #vintage #vintage toys #firffels #whoever heard of a fird #thrifting #thrift finds #1985 #manys collection #toy collection #plush #plush toys #plushies #kidcore #plushcore #toycore #hybrid #hybrid animals #shamel #elephonkey #bertle #sheep #camel #bear #turtle #elephant #monkey #wuzzles #publishing

[thedragonagelesbian]

15 Lines of Dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

tytytyty @bladesmitten for the tag!! I'll tag @ghostwise @isayashai & @hexblooddruid but no pressure

Doing this--of course--for Cyrus Hawke, with an assorted selection across his various iterations

"I'm sorry."

"That love is... It's everything. It's all of me."

“What am I supposed to make of that, of all the stories you tell about me, of the damned nickname, other than that I am supposed to be the world’s savior?”

“I chose to be by your side. I’d choose it again, in this lifetime or in any other, even if it kills me.”

“It’s usually best to just let him get it out of his system, and then do the reckless thing anyway.” // “You’re why I already have so many damn grey hairs.” // “I like your grey hairs.”

“I am what I’ve always been: a sword for someone else to wield. All that’s changed is that now it’s too broken to be worth holding.”

"Sometimes, peace needs to be forced."

"I would worship you-- all of you."

“Who knew a healer’s orders could sound so sexy?”

"It’s not… real. My body, it doesn’t feel like it’s mine. It’s just… something to give away, to make up for— for the rest of it. What’s in my head. It hurts, but I like being able to use it to help you all. To keep you all safe, to keep you fed and strong."

“Brooding? Is that what I’m doing? Am I brooding?”

"Have I earned some sort of prize for being your worst patient ever?" // "Oh, so you think I should reward you for your bad behavior?" // "Or you could incentivize very good behavior."

"I swore on my blade, my shield, my body, my life, that I would be of service to anyone who asked anything of me, dutiful down to the last drop of my blood, and I was so damned good at it… But no matter how much of myself I gave, no matter how much others took from me, it was never. Ever. Enough."

"That's what the oath is. Why I swore it, why I've kept it, it's not just important, it's everything, it's... me."

"I'm yours."

#cyrus hawke #i tried to strike a balance between love/expectation/duty/identity issues & some of his cheekier bits of dialogue #bc its an element of his character that i dont write about as much as i should. on account of the ProblemsTM and angst #he knows what fun is i promise despite most evidence on this blog to the contrary

[znerac]

Come Closer

Sorry for my terrible exuses of titles LOL

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x ftm!Reader

No specific pronouns are used but if i make a part two the reader will be described as ftm

Part 2

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, No Y/N, Cheating (Readers Bf)

Words: 2.2k

Summary: after finding Kriz with another in bed, reader finds themselves in the arms of the general they've treated many times before.

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Today so far was normal, patients were slow, and once you were off-shift you headed home. Of course, your apartment on coruscant wasn't the best, but you shared it happily with your boyfriend Kriz.

You found it odd how the door was unlocked, but brushed it off. You walk in with a happy 'im home!'. You begin to set your things on the counter, when an odd noise was heard. Of course, you thought nothing of it and called your lovers name. When you got no response, you got curious.

Walking over, your brows furrowed at the continuation of the noise, making your gut twist. Opening your guy's shared bedroom door, the pit in your gut deepened and your heart practically shattered.

The two in your bed jumped and your boyfriend started speaking, but you heard none of it. Walking out and shutting the door with tears welling up in your eyes.

You stood for a second in shock.

And then the tears started streaming.

You let out a choked sob and grabbed your bag, shuffling out just as your boyfriend came out of the bedroom.

Of course, you didn't have time to think, you were overwhelmed and disgusted. Rushing out of the building with a few held in cries.

Your mind was racing, and you didn't know where else to go but work, and so you did. You caught a cab back, and when you arrived you bumped into a few clones, apologizing profusely before you went back into your office.

It was pretty much the only place you could be alone. So you sat in your chair and held yourself, your mind going over the scene over and over. It plagued your mind, and it was too overwhelming, you nearly choked on your breath.

After about ten minutes, you heard a knock on your door. And you jumped, quickly wiping away your tears with a weak 'come in'.

The door opened, and you couldn't look up, staring down and grabbing mindlessly at a few papers, "can i help you?" you ask, thumb sliding over the documents.

"You bumped into one of my recruits, said you were upset. Is something wrong?"

You knew that voice, that voice was from a certain general who had a tendency to getting hurt. You looked up, surprised.

"General Kenobi? I- i uh it's nothing im fine, really" you lie between a smile. Obi-wan frowns, coming to sit down on the seat opposite of your desk. "You know very well i can sense that something is not right. Its better to talk about your feelings, you know. Why don't you tell me whats bothering you?" he says, asking again for you to talk. Your mouth wavers, opening and closing to speak. But you break out in a few more tears.

Obi-wan's eyebrows furrow, "Maybe i can help?" he offers, but you shake your head. "You.. Can't do anything. I just.. I" you pause to breathe. "I found Kriz.. With a girl.. When i went home" you say quietly. You watch as Obi-wan thinks, and it clicks. "Oh, I'm so sorry" he says, tone soft. You sniffle, shrugging. "Its.. Its fine. I'll get over it" you mumble, and he sits up. "But it's not fine, he broke your trust. Thats not just something you can forget." he explains, "i expect you probably don't feel like going back. I could offer you a stay in my quarters?" he offers, tilting his head to the side. You give a faint smile, "i.. I can't. I don't want to be a burden"

Obi-wans face contorts, "You're no Burden, Never" he says in an almost defensive tone. "Please, it would be be my pleasure. Besides, you deserve a break. Some peace" he excuses, standing up. "Come now, I'm not letting you be alone after such an event"

You smile faintly, appreciative of his caring demeanor. You stand up, grabbing your bag and slowly following him.

Obi-wan stays fairly quiet as you two walk, it feels tense. But somehow comforting. Although you don't really know the general all that much, you appreciate how caring he seemed to be.

Once you arrived at his quarters in the Jedi Temple, you step in a little nervously. But the clean and tidy surroundings make you just a little more at ease.

"What kind of tea do you like?" he asks, walking over to the set of counters and puts a kettle on. You follow, standing beside him. "I don't usually drink tea.. Just make anything you like and I'll drink it" you say, and Obi-wan looks over, "Ah.. Well.. I'll just make you one of my regulars. Unless you'd like something else?" he cocks a brow. You shake your head, "no, no its okay, I'll drink your uh, tea" you exuse with your hands up. He smiles, "Relax my friend, Take a seat. You could put on a holo if you'd like. Make yourself at home" he says, patting your shoulder and you nod.

You make it over to the little couch by the holo, taking in a shaky breath. Everything went by so quickly, and it felt a little unreal to even be here. You jump a little when you get a commcall on your wrist, but seeing the name your face scrunches and you quickly reject it. You end up taking off your link and setting it aside.

Obi-wan came back with two mugs, handing you one. "I sure do hope its alright, i just made it how i would usually for myself. But if you don't care for it theres always other options" he says, sitting next to you. You can't help but crack a weak smile, looking down at the drink in your palms. "Thank you"

He smiles over at you, and takes a sip from his mug. "Would you like to talk at all? Or would you prefer to just take your mind off of things?" he asks, tilting his head to the side and looking at you with those beautiful blues.

You think for a moment, looking at your transmitter before back at obi-wan. "Maybe later.. We can talk.. I just, want to relax for a little" you reply, and he gives you a nod. "Fair enough. Here, put a show on." he hands you the holopad, and you grab it. Choosing a random show you liked and throwing it up on the big screen.

You both sit quietly, until you start to talk about the show. Which, felt good. Obi-wan was a great listener. He looked over when you spoke, kept his attention on you, and replied when you asked him a question. It had been awhile since anyone actually gave you their full attention, and you were sure obi-wan could sense how thankful you were.

Eventually, you continued to drink your tea, actually finishing it too. "This was good, maybe your just great at making tea. I've never actually tasted one this good" you compliment, standing up. He furrows his brows, "well thank you, but, where are you going?" he asked, uncrossing his legs and sitting up. You pause, looking down at your mug. You thought he would want you to leave after the drink. "I don't know.. I kind of assumed you'd want me to leave after" you reply, and the other chuckles. "No such thing, I'm not sending you back there unless you choose to go. Please, Stay." he smiles, standing and taking your mug. "Here, I'll take care of this. Now why don't you go have a shower and refresh yourself, i have some clothes that could fit you." he offers.

You bite at your lip before sighing, "a shower does seem nice.." you hum, giving obi-wan a faint smile. He nods you to the refresher and you thank him before going, shedding your clothes almost instantly before hopping into the shower and relaxing against the hot water. You just let yourself stand there, soaking up all the warmth.

About five minutes into it, you hear a soft knock at the door followed with a "I'm just going to place these here, a Towel and something for you to wear" you hear obi-wan say. And you smile softly, thanking him before hearing him leave. You don't know how much longer you spend in there, but it just feels so nice you can't help but soak it up until the water starts to turn cold.

At that point, you get out and wrap yourself in the towel after drying your hair. You spend some time just standing there, going over the scenes once more. And then dry yourself off.

When you picked up the shirt obi-wan left you, you smiled a little. It was definitely his, or at least fit him. It was a plain white tee, and you slipped that on along with the gray sweats he gave you. It felt a little odd to be in another guys clothes, but you decided to savor the feeling. If your boyfriend could savor another person, you could let yourself at least wear these. You walked out, feeling a bit better and definitely more refreshed.

"Enjoy your shower?" you hear obi-wan ask, as he walks over to you from the little kitchen in the quarters. He handed you a plate with a neatly made wrap. "Oh, yeah it was.. Really nice" you say, taking the plate and thanking him for it. "Thats good to hear. Now how about you eat that, and then go take a rest. I'll be here, i just have some paperwork to do" he says, pointing to the plate. You cock a brow, "Rest? Like, sleep?" you ask. He nods. "I'm not taking your bed, obi-wan. I can rest fine on the couch"

"Nonesense. You can sleep in my bed, it's more comfortable I'd say. I'll take the couch, you need a good rest and I've had plenty." he smiles. You huff, thinking for a second. "You're not sleeping on the couch, this is your home, you can rest in the same best as me, we're both adults" you counter, and he raises a brow. "You're okay with that?" he asks, and you nod reassuringly. He gives you a final nod, "well then, please do get some rest. I still have to do some work" he says, giving your shoulder a small squeeze. "And if later when i come back, and you decide you don't want me to rest with you i fully understand" he says reassuringly before wandering off to his office.

You stand there for a second before going to sit, eating slowly and going over todays events again. It made you feel worse, but you couldn't help it. But what did help, was Obi-wan offering help and comfort. Which he seemed good at, and that made you feel a little better. Although, when you looked at your empty plate a few tears shed again. You get up to place the plate in the sink, and wander to obi-wans office. Gently pushing the door open. You watch with teary eyes as he turns his head and frowns. Then he stands, and faces you with open arms.

You don't hesitate for a second to jump into his arms and hug him. Feeling his arms wrap around you carefully, caressing your back to comfort you. You sob a couple times into his robes, leaving a small wet mark where your tears fell. But he says nothing, rubbing your back and letting you release those emotions. You spend a good couple minutes in his arms before pulling away, eyes red and puffy. And he smiles down at you, wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. "Let’s go lay, i can sense that you're tired" he suggests, and you nod. Turning and letting him follow you to his bed, and you glance at him before crawling in under the blankets. He waits a second, putting a finger up and going to grab a few clothes of his, and heading to the refresher. He comes back in just a simple sweatshirt and loose pajama pants, and asks you again if you're okay with him laying with you. Of course, you say yes and scoot aside so he can get in.

Once he gets comfortable, you wait for a second, biting your inner cheek. "Can we-"

He nods and opens his arms. And you shuffle into his arms, up against his chest with your head tucked into his neck. It’s comforting, and warm. And you feel yourself relax against him as he rests his arms around you.

Obi-wan moves his arm and suddenly you feel his hand in your hair. And you just melt, humming and leaning your head up into it. Of course he continues, and it just feels amazing.

It had been ages since anyone touched your hair, and it just felt special. Especially with how gentle obi-wan had been treating you. It was like he knew what you needed.

"Obi-wan?" you spoke up gently. He hummed in reply. "Thank you, for everything." you say in a somewhat weak tone, and he holds you just a little tighter. "Of course, Dear" he says softly.

You think for a little, feeling a buildup of emotions in your chest.

He kisses the top of your head, holding you closer, "It's going to be alright my dear, now just rest, okay?" he speaks softly, and you just nod.

Sleep was surprisingly easy to find that night.

.

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Thank you for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

#obi wan #obi wan x ftm!reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan x you #obi wan x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #clone wars era #obi wan fanfiction #the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw fanfic #tcw #sw #Star wars fanfic

[demidemon09]

My opinion on MW3

Alright, so just a heads up, this is gonna have spoilers, so from this point onward if you don't want any, please stop reading! Will tag for #MW3Spoilers if you want to avoid them on my blog.

Also, this is incredibly long and I am so sorry for that, I just have a lot to get off my chest right now and may ramble. I am also on like 2-3 hours of sleep, who knows if I'll have more to say later.

@sofasoap You asked to be pinged, apologies once again if it's insanely long and kinda rambly.

That being said, I've seen a fair bit of this by now, not the full thing and cannot bring myself to play it. This game had amazing potential, with Makarov being back, to having a higher stakes game. It just felt incredibly rushed and Soaps death, made no sense to me.

I have been excited to play the reboot timeline since I heard about it back in 2019, it was the first time in years I even paid attention to CoD, mainly because Soap was back. I thought this time, since we started off so soon in his story, we'd get to see him grow into Captain MacTavish. I even waited to play the other two campaigns based off this one, hoping to not have history repeat itself. Yet, it sadly did in an even worse way.

It honestly seems at this point, we're going to get Captain Garrick instead, which is fine, I'm more than happy to see Gaz survive and become a memorable character, I'm even glad we get to see Ghost survive longer than he did in the previous timeline. However, Soap dying so suddenly, so out of the blue with no reaction or importance, it felt so empty. It felt like pure shock value, just to do it because they needed a death.

Did I think all of them were going to survive? No, I was just hoping to not repeat the OG timeline, or to wait till MW4. As much as I hate to say it, Price or even Gaz dying this time would have been a bit more shocking to me. Gaz has so much history for him, is Prices protege, and would give Price even far more reason to go down the dark path he is headed in. Soap may have been a start, but imagine someone as important to him as Gaz dying? Man would have been livid and may have hunted down Makarov immediately afterwards.

I was also kind of hoping to see Ghost step into the role of Captain or at least leading the TF141 himself. In both timelines he has just been a lieutenant, one timeline he was Soaps second in command, and in this one he is Prices and Soap was his protege. I absolutely loved the amount of work they put into Ghost, I actually care far more for this version of him than I did with the OG Ghost. They made Ghost a teacher, the bond that him and Soap formed was great to see, something we didn't really get much of in the original MW2.

Just like with Gaz, they both got a massive amount of work done towards them, they are now memorable characters for me. Ghost was in the OG games to me, but I actually forgot entirely about Gaz. Now? I'd remember both, be mourning their deaths just like with Soap. I am so happy they rebooted the timelines but they have executed MW3 so poorly, I don't see myself being as interested in further content.

I get deaths are inevitable, I get deaths are going to be a part of the CoD universe. I 100% accept and understand that they will and, sometimes need to, happen. But Soaps death? That should not have happened, not one bit. He aimed for the shoulder on Makarov instead of the neck or head, how in the hell did he get taken down so quickly? No moment for himself, no scene, just Makarov bursting into the area, shooting him in the shoulder/back/wherever (legit can never find the hole for the first shot). And all for Price, a man who has survived both timelines. I would have been more at peace with Prices death than anything else, I do not hate the character, I love all of them very much, but Prices death would have been the perfect catalyst for all of them to go after Makarov. Would have been a nice shove to seeing Gaz work hard to become the best soldier, would have pushed Soap even further after the Graves betrayal.

I know it's a reach at this point, a stupid hope to keep Soap around but I do hope that somehow, they pull something out of their asses to keep Soap alive. It was a stupid, poor, lazy decision to kill Soap off in MW3 like the OG one. I said this before, but I truly was excited to see him grow into the Captain I loved playing as/with in the OG timeline. Neil Ellice absolutely nailed his portrayal of Soap and they could have never found a better actor. I look forward to seeing what happens in Zombies, but that's all I'm looking forward to anymore. Not the campaign, not the multiplayer, none of it. Soap was literally the reason I picked up MW19 and began playing cuz I knew he'd probably be in the second one. Thinking back, Captain MacTavish may very well have been the second game character I got attached to, after Master Chief.

So, yeah, that's kind of my thoughts right now. I am upset, disappointed and hurt over the ending of MW3. He deserved so much better than what he got.

#MW3Spoilers #MW3 #John MacTavish #John Soap MacTavish #Soap

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Helloo!!

I saw your witchy s/o post while looking into the tmnt tag and I'm so freaking happy someone finally wrote for a reader that practices witchcraft!!!!

If it's alright with you, and if you accept asks (I tried to look for rules but so far saw what you don't write) could I have the tmnt bois (especially Leo) with a witchy s/o that works with deities and dragons?

If not then it's totally fine! Hopefully Tumblr doesn't eat my ask so have a good day!

abso-fucking-lutely!!!! this is so fun and as a folk practitioner who works with deities this is right up my ally. If it's ok with you, I'm not gonna include dragons as that's not a practice I'm familiar with and I wouldn't want to get anything wrong. But deities I can do! I'll switch up the deities each time so there's something new with each of these as well.

Leo

"Can't, sorry, Loki said the vibe is off" you begin to leave the room and Leo is just following you like "What vibe? Who's Loki? Why is he telling you no?"

you're shuffling tarot cards and the fool pops out so you say, looking up, "I get it babes, please don't interrupt my reading like that, though" and Leo is so confused like "I din't say anything" and you just say "Not you, Loki"

eventually he tries to play into it like "Would Loki be ok if we didn't smoke cleanse the house today?" and you're just like "...yeah, I guess. But if you start feeling ill soon you'll know it's because he's pissed at you"

Leo does start feeling sick so you tell him to make an offering

he's never felt more stupid that when he pours wine into a glass on your alter but he soon feels better again and it freaks him out that it worked

"So he's a trickster god?" lots of questions like this and each time you're just like "Yes, he's a trickster, no he isn't going to hurt me, yes he fucks with me sometimes but it's all in good faith"

Raph

You wake up from a really bad nightmare

"I thought your Goddess was supposed to have power over dreams?"

"She does, something must be wrong"

you look in your offering cup and the wine has fucking moulded

"ah shit, it's mouldy. Better get her a new one"

after that you have peaceful dreams

you come home with a bunch of white roses and Raph is all "are those for me?" and you politely have to let him down and tell him they're for Selene

any time Raph has a bad dream you joke that it's because he's fallen out of favour with the Goddess for how he's treated you

fast forward to a time you and him get in a big fight and he has the worst sleep/dreams of his life for a week straight.

he comes crawling back to you practically begging you for forgiveness.

Selene gets a big offering after that

Mikey

You're clearing a space in his room for your alter since the two of you moved in together

"I need a large space, Hades like a big alter"

"What's he compensating for?" Mikey jokes

and you just shoot him this look like "Don't fuck around when it comes to him"

not even 10 minutes later one of his drums breaks

you're just like "serves you right"

you come in one morning with a cup of coffee and Mikey gets all excited like he's about to get breakfast in bed and you have to tell him that it's for Hades who likes his coffee black.

kinda freaks Mikey out when you hold a funeral for each of the dead rats you find in the lair but you have to remind him "I'm a death witch and I worship the lord of the underworld. What else am I meant to do?"

Donnie

honestly he mostly just leaves you to it

he's pretty good with his hands so when you told him you worship Artemis he made a clay stature of her for your alter

you told him he'll be in her good books after that

that night Donnie caught 10 foot clan soldiers

"well, she is the Goddess of the hunt... I told you she was happy with you"

He really takes an interest in your devotional activities

always asking questions about why you do that or the significance of this

#tmnt #witch series #witch s/o #witch so #witchy s/o #witchy so #deities #deity worship #witchcraft #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagine #tmntxreader #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt leo #tmnt raph