#just a little bit of maiming maybe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ma1dita · 1 month

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its 2am and im delirious im so sorry but

jealous! (and maybe clingy!)luke x apollo!reader when he sees the same couple of campers constantly coming to you for medical attention over small scratches or feigned illnesses just to get your attention..and reader is just so kind to everyone they’d never refuse to treat anybody no matter how minor the injury, but it drives luke a little mad teehee 🤭

🐥 also happy (late) birthday jo!!

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

luke castellan x gn!apollo!reader

a/n: i will never get tired of bf!luke.

wc: 947

“Be with you in a second, sweet boy!”

Your hands were fiddling with gauze as you brush past Luke sitting on the only empty bed left in the infirmary. And you weren’t even talking to him! Your words were directed to his half-sibling and with all the others waiting for you, it was obvious that you weren’t leaving your shift anytime soon despite his plans for your date night.

“Doc, what about me? I feel sick too,” he mutters into your neck, big hands pulling at your waist and playing with the smock tied around your frame.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You coo, brushing back his mop of hair and looking into his honey sweet eyes. He grins and it’s a bit boyish and quite sinister, all Luke with a definite trick up his sleeve.

“My heart hurts…. because I pulled a few strings to have dinner with you at the lake and we’re not there right now,” he sighs, hot breath tickling your earlobe, “And I need you to fix me up too.” Cheeky asshole.

You bite your lip and slowly pull yourself away from his embrace, not without kissing the corner of his mouth before the fluttery feeling is weighed down by the reminder of your responsibilities at the sound of a scream from across the infirmary.

The room was filled with campers of all ages vying for your attention and waiting for your gentle hands to tend to everything from a scraped knee to a rising fever (though if you ask Luke, he’s so sure he saw Bradley from cabin 9 standing over the forge in the armory trying to break a sweat earlier).

It was sickening. Someone ought to tell these campers to get in line. Connor Stoll almost skips–excuse me, limps, (now that you’re watching him again) towards Luke with a shit-eating grin at his moody disposition at the fact that he has to fight for your attention.

“Beat it, loser.”

“Baby! Don’t be mean or I’ll ask you to leave. Get up, Connie needs to get his knee wrapped,” you say with a furrow in your brow. Your eyes dart around the room wondering where the rest of your siblings have gone to help you heal these campers, but unlike you, they’ve already clocked out for the day. It’s a wonder how many kids at Camp Half-Blood get brutalized, maimed, or both on the daily, but it’s all in a day’s work of being a child of Apollo.

“Yeah, move it bighead!”

Luke grumbles, rising to his feet and shoving Connor a bit harder than what’s brotherly, so much so that the preteen falls face first into the cot. (Luke thought it was dumb that the kid was acting like a baby since the idiot scraped his knee jumping off the roof of the dining pavilion because Travis and Chris dared him to.)

“OWWW!” he groans, and before you can react, Bradley’s asking for another cold towel and little Lila from cabin 4 starts crying about her sun poisoning from being out in the strawberry field—your shaking hands and wide eyes let Luke know you’re at your limit so he ushers you behind a curtain for examinations.

“Honestly, you’re overworked babe. Take a break,” he says sternly, but softens as you look up at him with a pout and a whole lot of love. He smooths your hair down and hands you a glass of water.

“Just need to see the rest of the patients for the day and send them on their way. I don’t want anyone to be hurt,” you mumble through sips, leaning against the wall and shutting your eyes. To Luke, it sounded like the quicker you get through this the more time he spends with you— and so he moves so quickly that you barely process what he’s doing until you hear various complaints from campers (who are annoyed that their new nurse isn’t as pretty as you and dons a fierce glare and curls that hang over his forehead like a dark cloud).

Nurse Luke models after what he’s seen you do here countless times, but in a way that’s very much his own. He gives out ambrosia and nectar, cleans up booboos where needed, tells Bradley to fuck off and take a cold shower, tapes Connor’s mouth shut, and awkwardly jokes to a kid from cabin 6 that he probably shouldn’t be the one doing stitches or he’ll get a scar that looks like the one running down his cheek. They agree to wait until later, holding bloody gauze to their chin.

By the time you’ve calmed yourself down, you pull back the curtain to see an eerily quiet infirmary (and you’re not sure if they’ve been threatened into silence) but everyone is bandaged, fed and watered—to the best of Luke’s ability. It brings up a sunny smile on your face that reminds him of the first rays of morning light which is a view he never gets tired of, and you finally throw in the towel when Leo and little Will come in for the evening shift.

A resounding sigh is heard from the infirmary’s patients as you leave with your boyfriend, to which you don’t think much of as you look at Luke like he’s the answer to all of your problems. He kisses you in the doorway like its a cure, whispering sweet nothings and promises of a nice dinner at the lake even if it’s pitch black outside now.

It also serves to those damn kids as a reminder that he’s the one who gets to fuss over you and though he doesn’t like starting fights, boy, does he love ending them, in his own little way.

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fluff #percy jackon and the olympians #made by ma1dita ♥︎#for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

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aroaceleovaldez · 6 months

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Nico and Percy's dynamic through the series is eternally funny to me, because it's just. like.

Percy's having a constant mental struggle between his fatal flaw of loyalty with a promise he made to Bianca to protect Nico, versus his Big 3 kid desire to maim other Big 3 kids / Poseidon descendant urge to totally maim Nico specifically. He hates Nico so so much. He thinks Nico's annoying and weird at best, and creepy/sketchy when he's older. The only positive thoughts Percy has towards Nico are "He's Bianca's brother and Bianca was my friend and I owe her/He's Hazel's brother and Hazel is my friend and would kill me if I was mean to him," "He's a powerful asset and useful ally (if questionable)," and "He's kinda pathetic and I feel maybe a little bad about it." Percy has multiple occasions throughout the series where he strongly considers - and on one occasionally actually goes through with - throttling Nico.

Meanwhile, Nico is following around Percy like a lost puppy. He explicitly can never bring himself to even dislike anything about Percy no matter how hard he tries. He has a whole bit in BoO where he's mentally going "UGH he's so stupid BUT IT'S ENDEARING HOW DARE HE." He's totally smitten. He's making deals with his dad for Percy. He's making convoluted plans to help Percy stand a chance against Kronos. During the entirety of BoTL it's like he's playing tsundere - "I'm helping NOT PERCY SPECIFICALLY with this quest! Me helping Percy would be SILLY because I DEFINITELY HATE HIM." Then he proceeds to show up to Percy's birthday party to basically ask him on a weird date and spend the entire next book scrambling around trying to help him or protect him or impress him. And Percy could not give less of a shit.

Just. That dynamic is so funny to me. Percy is the founder of the Nico Protection Club in that he's the one they're all protecting Nico from and meanwhile Nico is throwing himself at Percy to the point where the literal god of gay love calls him out on it.

#pjo #percy jackson #nico di angelo #Percy shows up at CJ and squints at Nico like ''hm. why do i feel like i hate you? like i just wanna punch you in the face?''#and Nico just immediately goes ''huh no idea anyways i have to go-'' and jumps into Tartarus #but not before he gives Hazel essentially a detailed explanation of ''this is Percy i cant say much but please dont let him die <3''#and Nico's whole Tartarus trip was basically a whole ''im doing this so no one else has to''#only for Percy and Annabeth to fall in like one book later and Nico proceeds to spend the next book internally screaming about it #and then Cupid calls him out on it and the next book #Nico's just like ''at this point im hoping i keel over within the next week just so i can force this dumb crush to chill the fuck out''#Nico staring pointedly at Will: ''For my own sake i need to form another crush RIGHT NOW so i can finally get over Percy.''#''this has been so bad for my health''#Nico's crush on Percy is just too funny to me. horrible pick my guy. terrible job. love that for you. he could not be less interested.#Percy LITERALLY TRIES TO KILL NICO and ditch him in the underworld and Nico is somehow STILL like ''but i love him''#Percy basically chokes him. beats up his dad. tells him ''go get smited by your dad for me.'' and ditches him.#and Nico's opinions/crush on him DO NOT CHANGE #though also Nico's reaction to Percy beating up his dad + skeletons is SO funny. his jaw is on the floor. he's flustered about it.#he just witnessed Percy be incredibly hot and proceeded to go ''yea i'll do anything for this man. collect reinforcements of 3 gods? sure''#nico you absolute DISASTER with HORRIBLE TASTE. you can do better. raise your standards.#which tbh is funnier when you factor in sun and the star. Nico just wont stop crushing on guys who dislike him and everything he stands for

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7s3ven · 4 months

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NOBODY’S SON, NOBODY’S DAUGHTER. luke (pjo) pt 3

PART 1 > PART 2 > PART 3 > PART 4 (last pt)

( masterlist )

IN WHICH… being the boyfriend of Zeus’ daughter is easy for Luke but their relationship is tested when a new arrival has his eyes set on someone in particular; Y/N.

“You’re in the wind, I’m in the water. Nobody’s son, nobody’s daughter.”

Warnings : Luke ain’t gonna betray anyone this time, don’t worry, not following plot, communication problems, relationship problems, Y/N and Luke are little rocky together, a little bit of angst

—

TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree

—

Life was good for Luke. He was still the most respected swordsman at camp, the Hermes cabin was as energetic as ever, and he had been dating his longtime crush for months now. Everything was perfect.

“Hey Sparky.” Luke said as he walked into Y/N’s cabin without a second thought. She was still lying in bed, glaring at him with her E/C eyes that he loved so much.

“It’s six in the morning. Get out or be quiet.” Y/N waved him off but he was persistent.

“You promised to train with me.” Luke frowned, hurrying over to kneel beside Y/N’s bed.

“Tomorrow.” She muttered, closing her eyes so she could sneak in a moment more of sleep.

“You said that yesterday. And the day before. At least hold my water bottle!”

Y/N couldn’t resist Luke when he looked at her with those puppy eyes. Eventually, she found herself standing in the centre of the arena dressed in loosely fitting armour and holding a heavy sword. “I never agreed to this.” She muttered, furrowing her eyebrows.

She wasn’t even fully dressed, still in her pjs under the armour, while Luke was ready to go. He took a huge gulp of cold water from his bottle, grinning.

“Just one round, Sparky. Fight me like you mean it and I’ll let you sit out.”

But fighting Luke was never an easy feat. Five minutes later, Y/N was still locked in a complicated battle with her brown-haired sweetheart.

“Slow down, will you? I just woke up.” She muttered, sloppily blocking a blow that was aimed at her chest. Luke merely chuckled, swinging his weapon even faster.

“Sorry, Sparky. But I’ve got to train somehow.”

“By almost maiming your girlfriend?!” Y/N exclaimed as she ducked. She quickly rolled across the ground and stood up behind Luke.

“Yeah. Something like that.” He sent her a mischievous wink as he spun around, metal clashing against metal. Y/N scoffed, kicking his ankles. She liked to play dirty. In one of their first capture the flag matches, Y/N had bit Luke. And had drawn blood. That was the start to their close relationship.

“I’m tired, Luke.” She complained, slouching. “Let me rest.” Despite wanting to continue training, Luke let Y/N off easy. He knew he wouldn’t get another mock fight out of her in this state. She happily skipped over to the bench, lying down on it.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Luke’s lips as he stared at Y/N. Her head suddenly turned and Luke bashfully looked away. Nothing could make him shy… nothing but Y/N. She laughed at him, knowing the effect she had on Luke.

“I’m going to change. And maybe get some last-minute sleep. You wanna come or are you gonna stay here and train?” Y/N raised her eyebrows as she took her armor off. Luke was quick to drop his sword and unbuckle his chest-plate.

“I’ll come with.” He said. Y/N muffled her laughter and simply knocked Luke to the side with her hip.

“New kids sure are pouring in.” Y/N mumbled. Just yesterday, another boy had arrived. He was around Y/N and Luke’s age, which was uncommon for newcomers. How had he managed to avoid the monsters for so long?

“Remember when that girl tried flirting with me last week?” Luke asked, chuckling to himself. Y/N quietly snickered as she nodded her head.

Just last week, a new girl had began flirting with Luke. People tried to warn her but she didn’t listen. Y/N hadn’t even stepped out of her cabin before Clarisse pinned the newbie to the cold ground and forced her to stay away from Luke.

“Clarisse sure is working hard to prevent anybody interested from approaching us.” Y/N found it amusing because Clarisse never cared about couples until Y/N and Luke started dating.

“So. You up for training again tomorrow?” Luke questioned, changing the topic. Y/N playfully scoffed.

“Luke, you know your my second favourite boy… but no.” Y/N didn’t know how many more late nights and early mornings she could take.

“Second? Who’s first?” Luke sped up slightly, furrowing his eyebrows at Y/N.

“Percy.” She shrugged, “Sorry, Luke, but he’s a better breakfast buddy. And he doesn’t wake me up at the crack of dawn.”

Luke lightly pouted. He knew Y/N was joking but there was no way Percy was ranked above him. “I won’t wake you up early anymore.” He uttered, making Y/N pause.

“I guess I’ll have to change my list then. Percy’s been demoted to number two.”

Immediately, Luke’s eyes lit up. If he were a dog, his tail would’ve been wagging back and forth. Luke opened the cabin door, letting Y/N walk in first before he followed.

“We still have an hour before breakfast so Luke, don’t disturb me. Do whatever you want as long as it doesn’t wake me up.” Y/N sternly pointed at him and he mockingly saluted.

“Yes, ma’am.”

While Y/N lay down, Luke resorted to looking around the cabin. There wasn’t anything of significant interest apart from the closet shoved into a deserted corner, which Luke ignored. The last time he opened a mysterious closet, he was dragged into it. Of course, it was a prank meant for an Athena kid but they were too smart to fall for it. Especially when said closet was placed in the middle of a flower field.

Luke looked at Y/N, who was already sound asleep. He smiled, creeping over to the side of the bed. He found peaceful solitude in tracing his eyes over Y/N’s soft features. He would’ve stared at her for hours if she didn’t groggily wake up five minutes later.

“You’re distracting.” She groaned, glaring at Luke.

“I’m not even doing anything this time, Sparky!” Of course, as Y/N’s boyfriend plus friend, it was his job to annoy her. “How am I distracting?”

“Your staring is distracting. Come over here.” Y/N motioned to the spot beside her on the unusually large bed. Luke gleefully climbed in, immediately hugging Y/N. He was as affectionate as ever, even more so now that they were officially together.

Y/N hummed as Luke tilted her chin up, lightly kissing her. “Luke.” She mumbled against his lips, “I wanna sleep.”

“Five more minutes.” He uttered those famous words.

“Sleep now, act like a couple later.” Y/N pulled away, lying down on Luke’s chest. She closed her eyes, sighing deeply.

“Can I come with you when you teach the newbies to sword fight? I’m in the mood for watching you pummel them.”

Luke chuckled, hugging Y/N even tighter. “Sure, Sparky. I’ll try not to embarrass myself too much.”

Y/N sat on the bench, beaming at Luke. His eyes remained glued to her despite one of the younger kids tripping over their own feet.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?”

She almost jumped when someone sat beside her. Suddenly, Luke’s face shifted. Y/N turned her head, glancing at the boy beside her.

“Oh. Yeah. Um, you’re one of the new kids, right?” Y/N questioned, tilting her head to the side.

“Yeah. I just got here yesterday. I’m honestly still a little confused so it’d be great if you could show me around.” He smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“I guess I could try? I’m a little busy because of my duties as head counsellor. By default, of course. Because I’m the only one in my cabin.”

“Oh, who’s your godly parent?”

Y/N hesitated for a second before she cleared her throat. “… Zeus.” She wasn’t proud of having him as her father. He was unbearable, especially when he ignored her for so long then proceeded to act as if he hadn’t.

“That’s cool. Can you control lightning or something?”

“Perhaps. Percy has some water powers so maybe it applies to me too.” Y/N shrugged. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Luke excuse himself from the campers across the arena.

Y/N watched him with bated breath as he approached her. “Hey. Is there something wrong with your armour?” He asked the boy beside Y/N. “Because we’re going to start mock fights soon. Clarisse will be monitoring.” Luke jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Ah, no. Everything’s good. Don’t worry. My armor’s fine.” The unnamed boy stood up, walking over to the rest of the group.

“What was that for?” Y/N softly asked, “He was only asking for some help.”

“He was flirting, Y/N.” Luke cooly replied, sitting down next to her. “I know guys like that. Their way of flirting is asking for help.”

“You don’t know that, Luke.”

“Yes. I do, Y/N.”

“The overprotective nature was cute at first, Luke. But you can’t assume every guy who talks to me is interested in me.”

“I see the way they look at you. I mean, how could they not? You’re beautiful and kind and great at fighting and on top of that, you’re Zeus daughter.”

“I chose you, Luke. Not any of the other guys desperate for my attention. You think I’m not jealous when I see girls giggling at you? Of course I am. But I know that you’re mine. And you have to know that my heart only belongs to you.”

Luke cracked a small grin. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just got jealous.”

“It’s okay, Luke. I’m sorry I called your overprotectiveness annoying. It’s not. I still think it’s cute. I was just caught up in the moment. I guess I just didn’t want to feel helpless. A daughter of Zeus should not be helpless.”

“You aren’t helpless. Whoever thinks that you are needs a major reality check.” Luke shook his head, glancing over at Clarisse. “You wanna get out of here?” He whispered, nudging Y/N.

“I, um, actually agreed to show him around.” Y/N mumbled, pointing over at the boy. Luke pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Okay.” He gently said, nodding his head. “I’ll keep Annabeth company while you show him around. But if he tries anything funny, I will punch him.” Luke warned.

“I know, Luke. I know.” She smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. She was partly hoping that the boy from before saw their interaction so he would put whatever sneaky schemes he had to rest.

“So, let me get this straight, Annabeth found out Percy was Poseidon’s child when Clarisse cornered him in a bathroom… and shoved his head into a toilet?” Y/N raised an eyebrow as she picked another strawberry, placing it in the straw basket Luke was holding.

“Yeah. And then Percy practically attacked her with toilet water.” Luke chuckled to himself as he bit into a strawberry. “Annabeth told me all about it. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like Percy.” Y/N replied, plucking a few more berries. She handed one to Luke, who took it like a child being given candy.

“So, how was showing that boy around?”

“Well, I thought his name was Alston and it took about two hours for me to realise that his name was actually Allen. He never corrected me so I never knew.”

Luke huffed in amusement as he slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “Sounds like you. Any idea of what cabin he’d gonna be in?”

“Ares.” Y/N immediately answered, taking Luke by surprise. “He’s hungry for power. He has a thirst for it. And he can’t seem to tear his eyes off the Ares kids, it’s like he’s drawn to them. What about you?”

“Good guess. Ares as well for me.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just copying me?”

Their playful banter went on for quite some time. It was normal for the couple to tease and push. That’s how they were before they started dating too.

“Have you ever tried chocolate on strawberries?” Luke asked, picking up another red berry.

“I’m not obsessed with them like you are, Luke.” Y/N was never much of a sugar person. She liked desserts for a certain extent and chocolate wasn’t her favourite like Luke’s was.

“How come I have a cute nickname for you and you don’t have one for me?” Luke questioned, gazing down at Y/N.

“I’m not big on pet names. And I could hardly call Sparky cute. Unless you want to be called messenger boy, don’t push it.”

“I’ll message you my heart.” Luke grinned as he pulled out a slip of paper that was stamped with a red heart.

“What’s this?” Y/N turned it over but Luke stopped her from opening it.

“Read it when I’m gone otherwise I’ll be too embarrassed. It’s just a little gift for my amazing girlfriend.” Luke quickly kissed her before he hurried off, taking the strawberries with him.

Y/N sat down in a sunny patch and opened the letter, staring at Luke’s neat handwriting. “A love letter…” She whispered, her eyes widening. She has received plenty of love letters before, mostly before she came to Camp, but Luke’s felt special. He was pouring his heart out to her through his inked words and messily drawn hearts.

“Hey Y/N. What ya reading?”

She held back a small scoff as Allen approached her, hands clasped behind her back.

“Something private.” She said, hoping he would get the hint. But he didn’t.

“Is it a love letter? Who still writes those, these days?” Allen plucked the letter from Y/N’s grasp and before she could stop him, he dunked it in a nearby puddle. “Oops.” He merely smirked.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N seethed, watching as the ink bled out from off the paper and Luke’s beloved words floated away.

“You’ll get another love letter. No need to be so uptight.” Allen laughed, not noticing how Y/N’s vision flashed red with anger. She was never one to get furious but Luke’s gifts meant the world to her.

“Are you crazy? Stupid? Perhaps mentally impaired? Why would you do that? Even if the letter didn’t mean much to me, you have no right to grab it and ruin it!” Y/N stood up, wobbling from side to side. Her body felt unusually heavy.

“It was just a joke, Y/N.” Allen reached out to touch her. He grasped her wrist but was suddenly flung back by an unknown force. As he lifted his hand, he yelped. It had been burnt, and badly. His skin was sizzling and some parts were even charred black.

“Don’t touch me again.” Y/N muttered, storming off. Allen clicked his tongue, watching her leave.

“Crazy bitch.” He muttered under his breath. He went to the infirmary and got his hand patched up before returning to the Hermes cabin.

“Yo, what happened to your hand?” Chris asked almost immediately. Luke’s eyes flickered over to the bandage that was wrapped around Allen’s hand.

“Y/N. The crazy girl went ballistic after her little love letter fell in water. I grabbed her and then she flung me back. I didn’t even know she could do that.” Allen scoffed.

Luke didn’t wait around to hear the rest. He was out of the cabin before Allen could say another word. He burst into Y/N’s room, making an instant beeline for her figure hiding beneath the blankets.

“Go away, Clarisse. I told you, I don’t want to talk.” Y/N said, shifting around.

“It’s not Clarisse, Sparky. What happened? Why’d you burn Allen?”

Y/N slowly slid the covers off her head. “I didn’t mean to. I was so angry that I didn’t know what was happening. He dunked your letter in water, Luke! So I snapped at him and he tried to stop me from leaving by grabbing me. And I don’t know how it happened, but I burnt him and sent him crashing into the strawberry bushes.

“Oh… are the strawberries okay?” Luke furrowed his eyebrows together, concerned.

“Luke,” Y/N glowered at him, “This is about me! Not the strawberries!” She hit his chest. “It’s not like it’s my fault he touched me. He deserved it anyway.”

“I know, Sparky. I know. I’ll take care of him. You just focus on calming down. It’s not your fault. I’ll write you a million letters if you need.” Luke hugged her, pressing a long kiss to the side of her head. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Thanks, Luke.” She mumbled, pressing her face deeper into his shirt.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Y/N froze. She stiffly rested in Luke’s embrace, staring blankly at his bright orange shirt. An awkward silence rested between the pair and even though Luke didn’t comment on her lack of response, he still wondered why didn’t she reply?

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair how we’re always fighting against the Hermes and Athena cabin?” Clarisse said as she sharpened her sword. She clicked her tongue.

“It is a little unfair. Annabeth is always one step ahead of us.” Y/N sighed. She clenched her jaw when she spotted Allen walking towards her. “Oh, great. Jerk alert.” She whispered to Clarisse, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll leave you to beat him up.” The Ares girl replied, shoving her way past Allen.

“Y/N. Hey. I just wanna say that I’m sorry. I didn’t know the letter meant that much to you.”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “Okay.” She murmured.

“Okay? That’s it? I apologised to you and all you say is okay?” Allen scoffed.

“Just because you apologised doesn’t mean I forgive you.” Y/N resisted the urge to roll her eyes in fear they would get stuck. She spent so much time being annoyed with people.

“Do you have to be such a bitch about it?” Allen snapped.

Y/N deeply inhaled. She stiffly smiled at Allen before standing up. “I have to go.” She uttered, brushing past the boy. But just like last time, he grabbed her hand and unfortunately for her, there was no electricity to save her.

“Accept my apology.” He said, gripping her arm so tight he may as well leave a bruise.

“I told you not to touch me.” Y/N tried to pull her arm out of his grasp but he was relentless.

“Leave me alone, okay!” She exclaimed, lifting her other hand and slapping Allen’s check. “Stay away from me, you creep! Honestly!”

Y/N scoffed in disgust, storming off. She went to go find Luke, but she found him on the porch of the Aphrodite cabin, talking to the same girl that tested their relationship before it even started.

Y/N slowly licked her lips and looked away, fidgeting with her hands. She decided to leave Luke alone for now, ignoring the dull ache she felt in her chest.

After months of pure happiness, everything was coming crashing down. And there was nothing Y/N could do to stop it. She sighed, collapsing on her own wooden porch. A new game of capture the flag was going to start soon and she didn’t have time to brood.

“Hey, you good?” Clarisse asked as Y/N slid her helmet over her head and the first conch blew. Y/N simply smiled, nodding over at her best friend.

“Yeah. I’m good. Don’t worry about it, Clari.” She smiled again to reassure Clarisse. She glanced over at Luke and the Aphrodite girl, whose name was Lana. They were laughing together. They had been for the past few days. Y/N didn’t know if it was her or Luke but lately, they hadn’t been talking at all.

Clarisse followed her gaze and pieced everything together. “You can switch positions with someone else.” She offered because they both knew Luke was going to be the one to get the flag. “Today feels like an offence day for you anyway.”

Y/N silently smiled at Clarisse as she switched jobs with one of the Ares kids.

“Thanks, Clari.”

“No problem, baby. If it weren’t for Luke, I might’ve dated you myself.” Clarisse playfully smirked while Y/N laughed.

“If it weren’t for him, I might’ve taken you up on that offer.”

Communication was important in a relationship but for some reason, Y/N and Luke could never talk peacefully. It always turned into argument and one, if not both of them, would turn away hurt.

Y/N was ready to go by the time the second conch blew. Usually, she guarded her team’s flag but today, she was hunting through the woods. Each of her opponents were more surprised than the last to see her because it was always Luke’s job to duel against her. He was really the only one who could beat her.

“We surrender.” The blue leader said, hands help up. Y/N smiled, slinging her spear over her shoulder.

“Easy peasy.” She said to her teammates, who laughed with her. “This might be the quickest game yet. Let’s grab that flag and get outta here.”

Y/N didn’t know who she was expecting to be guarding the blue flag. Maybe Percy or Chris or even Annabeth herself. But not Luke.

He easily disarmed her teammates, leaving Y/N for last. “Rematch, Sparky?” He uttered, mockingly swinging his sword.

“Really? We don’t talk for a few days and that’s all you say?” Y/N replied as she blocked the blow.

“Well, last I recall, you’re always busy with Allen.”

“Not willingly. You know that.”

“What was he doing in the arena with you then?”

Y/N scoffed. “Annoying me. What are you and Lana always talking about?”

“Don’t turn this on me, Sparky.” Luke warned as he stepped to the side, barely avoiding Y/N’s weapon.

“We really need to figure our shit out, Luke. Maybe somewhere that’s not on a battlefield.”

Y/N and Luke were both headstrong and stubborn, which is what made communication so hard in the first place.

“Lana’s only a friend, Y/N. Barely that. I’m only helping her. What do you call Allen?”

“An obnoxious fly.” Y/N whacked Luke in the head, taking him by surprise.

“You seem closer than that. He’s always touching you.”

“And every time he does, I wish I could burn him. Are you sure you aren’t jealous?”

“Are you sure you aren’t? Your eyes are always on Lana.”

“Because she likes you, Luke. And she hasn’t gotten the hint that you’re taken.”

Y/N’s teammates exchanged looks and quietly crawled away from the now private conversation.

“Why don’t you trust me, Y/N? You know I’d never cheat on you.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he wiped away beads of sweat with the back of his hand.

“You have to trust me first. Why would I choose Allen over you? That seems like an unfair deal.”

“Maybe you just like the attention. I mean, you didn’t even say you love me back.” Luke shrugged, stepped back to avoid his leg from being slashed by Y/N’s blade.

“I’m not ready for that, Luke! You know what,” Y/N paused gripping her spear tightly. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of arguing and not trusting each other. A relationship requires trust and despite being friends before all this, we’re doing a lousy job of it. So…”

Y/N pursed her lips as she trailed off. “So, maybe we’re just trying to make something impossible work.”

Luke suddenly froze, realising the small argument was going somewhere he didn’t want it to. “You don’t mean that, Y/N.”

“… I do. Luke, we’ve been avoiding each other and over what? Stupid things. You’re blaming me for talking to guys and I’m getting mad at you for even looking at other girls. Luke, we’re not in a stable relationship. We’re both insecure and there’s no communication between us. Don’t you see it? I think the best thing to do here… is take a break.”

It was silent, save for the chirping birds. In the distance, Y/N could hear Clarisse let out a battle cry. Luke sighed, stepping aside. “Just… take the flag, Y/N. Take it. I don’t care about it anymore.”

“We’re going to talk about this later, Luke.”

“Yeah. I know, Sparky. Just… go.” He heaved another heavy sigh, almost shaking. Y/N gripped the flag, sparing Luke one more glance before she sprinted through the forest.

Luke watched as she not only stole the flag but also his heart with it.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #rick riordan #pjo series #pjo tv show #percy jackson fanfiction #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #pjo fandom #the lightning thief #zeus #hermes #greek mythology #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #grover pjo #luke pjo #poseidon

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awkwardtuatara · 6 months

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Thinking about how Moist's scams and cons are rooted in a cynical belief that those bastards would try to trick me if they could as well. That's his justification for his actions, other than just because he finds it thrilling. And he sees what he does as ultimately harmless - he doesn't kill or maim, slips in and out of lives without a trace - so he doesn't recognize that his actions have meaning until Mr Pump hits him with 2.338 statistical deaths, and doesn't accept it until he finds out Adora Belle was hurt by his scam.

He's wounded so many people. Sure there are the people he believes everyone to be, the ones he relies upon for his scams to work, who try to take advantage of him and are cheated in turn. But there are also desperate people, people who weren't directly involved like Adora Belle, maybe even people who against all odds still tried to be kind to a stranger and were punished for it. And he just isn't capable of realizing that maybe people are real for longer than he sees them for, that they have lives to live and worldviews that can be shredded with too many hurts. He can't accept that people are capable of more than cynical pragmatism, of don't hurt others because they might hurt me.

But all throughout Going Postal, that idea of his is disproven again and again. There's Stanley and Mr Groat, who eke out a little coexistence despite being forgotten, and the elderly postmasters who join him just because they loved their job; there's Adora Belle Dearheart, who was wounded and cheated in life from so many sides and still used that resentment to help marginalized people. Although his own perspective focuses more on who he is rather than a new understanding of who he was, and he rarely reflects on just how much his worldview changes from beginning to end (except when confronted by Adora Belle), he still goes from doing selfish things for selfish reasons to doing things that benefit everyone, especially those he cares about, for selfish reasons. He can still enjoy the exhilarating game of creating new personas and pushing his luck while believing a bit more that humans can be genuinely earnest people as well. And as he approaches that truth, he becomes invested in his life as well, because now he has to stick with it.

Going Postal's about redemption in many ways - the idea that atonement doesn't lie in fixing every mistake you've made, but in moving on and trying to prevent making them again, in recognizing your own crimes being done by others and working against them.

Isn't that at least a little hopeful? That, ultimately, the world isn't so cynical and bitter as you've based your entire life on? That it isn't so difficult to exist after all? It's a lot to take in, but so is any paradigm shift.

#I'm rambling - this is two different lines of thought stitched together #(his crimes against others being more serious than even the story recognizes #& his actions are rooted in cynicism that's disproved throughout the narrative)#what a guy #what a story #I love it so much #moist von lipwig #going postal #discworld #adora belle dearheart #gnu terry pratchett

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butchdiaz · 22 days

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ask for essays on tommy's nerves have essays on tommy's nerves delivered directly to your doorstep!!! sorry in advance for the length and incoherency of this ask because lou's acting choices genuinely make me feel deranged, we are so lucky to have him.

exhibit a: the hand on the chin when buck opens the door. he's thought about this so carefully you can tell from the moment he enters the scene. and i don't even mean the kiss. i don't think tommy knew that was going to happen until approx. five seconds before it did. but he wants to get this conversation right.

exhibit b: the fucking breathlessness when he says "we can talk" (yes we're still not even in the loft yet). like that is the breathlessness of a man seeing whom he assumes is his emotionally unavailable big boy crush and realising he's going to have to smooth things over between him and the man most likely making him unavailable to tommy. (it's also just tommy seeing big beefy tank buckley and getting a little flustered methinks)

exhibit c (moving actually into the loft now): obsessed, deeply deeply obsessed with the way buck removes the obstacle of the kitchen island between them and tommy immediately crosses his arms over his chest like he's trying to put it back between them subtly because he still doesn't think he's allowed to Want.

exhibit d: the way he literally cannot look at buck as buck starts moving in closer quite literally makes me want to rip my hair out. like baby, you're allowed to look i promise, i swear.

exhibit e: the breakout of the laugh to full seriousness as he commits to the "i'm renowned for my fake mouth static" is so special to me because. i have done that. i have committed to a bit that was perhaps a bit too revealing/suggestive with my heart pounding as a way of testing the waters. and then the relieved amusement of his "cmon hey" when buck plays into it.

exhibit f: the way tommy looks at buck when buck's giving his little "threw in with us no hesitation" speech is so. that man is ANCHORING his eyes to buck's eyes. he's still not allowed to look, he is being respectful, he is overcompensating, he is FIGHTING for his life.

exhibit g: his tiny little smile when buck mentions the tour. you wanted to see me? 🥺

exhibit h: the fucking recoil when buck says he wanted to get to know him. the disbelief. the oh. the maybe i can have this.

exhibit i: the slow drop of his smile the more time buck spends mentioning eddie (which btw why is that line so long fuck off buck stand up!!) thinking oh never mind.

exhibit j: "i could teach you" with that bashful little shrug of his shoulders. i could teach you if you'd let me.

exhibit k: the realisation that sinks in after buck says about flying lessons. he wants to spend time with me, he's moving closer. oh shit, i'm allowed, i'm allowed, i'm allowed. the seriousness. the i have to make him understand i want him. the first time he lets his eyes drop to buck's lips.

exhibit l: my attention? one last check. one last check just to make sure. i can want this, i can want him.

exhibit m: his little kind of glassy-eyed smile between "i did maim my best friend" and "my sister". he is not listening to a word buck says. he is making a decision. a terrifying decision, but he's already made it.

exhibit n (typed through tears lol): the way he squeezes his eyes shut as he pulls away. buck is opening his but tommy squeezes his shut harder. he doesn't want to see the disgust on buck's face. he's bracing for rejection. he's hoping, hoping, hoping.

exhibit o: the breathlessness of "like that?" please tell me that was okay, please tell me that's allowed, please please please. the clench of his jaw as he waits for buck's answer, the slight nod like he's confirming something to himself.

exhibit p: the smile when it sinks in that buck wants this. the smile before the immediate "so that was okay?" just needing that verbal confirmation for buck, yeah, but also for himself.

and then for me it's the complete shift in tommy's demeanour after buck confirms it's okay. he goes from this quiet, hesitant, reserved tommy to this confident, flirty, little bit sensual tommy the moment he's allowed. cross town traffic 🫦 came in a car this time 😏. it's just such a wild switch up but it makes so much sense because the nerves have gone. he's allowed to want. (jesus got halfway through the alphabet sorry)

SAMI IM GONNA SCREAM BRB TIME TO WATCH THIS SCENE SIDE BY SIDE W UR ANALYSIS THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#i love u endlessly #im absolutely OBSESSED #answered #sami

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willowser · 1 year

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i've never really put much thought into actual dragon dragon-king bakugou, but — what if —

you meet him for the first time in king todoroki's arena — on what you assume to be the last day of your life. over something menial like stealing a porkbun or something, and now his grace has decided that a trial-by-combat is a fitting punishment for you crimes.

only your opponent is a massive, hulking, fire-red dragon.

and you're not the only one thrown in there; a few other vagrants and miscreants, too, and they — stupidly — rush off to meet their own deaths as they try to strike him down with the blunt swords and dented shields you'd been thrown by the guards before they sealed you to your fate.

the dragon is chained up, of course, like a prized possession for the king. a large collar with inward curving spikes around his neck, which have worn scars into his scales, as well as some metal contraption around his maw to keep it shut. it doesn't hinder him useless, though, and when he tries to fly up and away from the amphitheater, the force of his wings sends you all rolling backward.

despite the fact that he's maiming people with the spines on his tail and bashing them into mush with the weight of his head — you can't help but to feel bad for him, trapped in an arena, put on display for people to taunt and laugh at. the chains look heavy, the muzzle tight; you wonder if his wings could even carry him anymore.

so you decide that the only way for you to live through this, if at all, is if you can manage to get this big boy off the ground.

while the other competitors fight the dragon for their lives, you instead rush for the chains that are nailed into the walls of the arena and smash at them with the rounded end of a shield. every time he jerks his head this way and that, or rears back on his legs, wings flapping wildly, the wall he's nailed to becomes looser and looser, starts to crumble and fall away.

and just as he turns to you — his last foe — it breaks free, and you swear, you swear, those big, red eyes of his narrow, brow furrowing, before he's jerking the chain twice. tugging it noisly, almost to get your attention.

you grab onto it just before he takes to the sky.

the rush of air is so cold and stinging that your eyes water, and you hold onto the lifeline as you're carried up and away from the kingdom, over the entirety of it, far enough that he can land safely without getting charged by the guards.

when you both hit ground, you think you're going to puke, especially as he stands tall and stretches his wings like he hasn't been able to for years — but instead of smashing you, too, to a clump in the grass, he only leans his head down to you, nudges you hard enough that you topple over.

you're still clinging to the shield and you use the edge on the nails of his muzzle, too, twisting them loose so that the iron falls away and he can stretch his jaw. show off his long, very sharp teeth that could easily tear you to bits.

and yet he doesn't. doesn't even try.

it'll be harder to get the collar off his neck, but he watches you with his slit eyes, brow arched menacingly, and nudges you to the long length of his neck. huffs until you're grabbing the spines and hauling yourself up onto him, like some kind of impossibly large horse.

and you continue on like that, for a bit; he finds a field of wild bulls and eats nearly all of them, maiming one for you before setting it aflame; you try to gather little shiny things for him, because you've heard dragons like treasure and you want to keep him, but he doesn't seem too interested; you have no family to return to, having grown up alone on the king's streets, and he becomes all you have.

you begin to feel like some chosen one from the fairytales you've heard spoken by firelight. the dragon bakugou stays with you, and the only reason you can fathom is that, maybe, he feels indebted to you — but you've saved one another, and that's what matters.

the night everything changes is when you're deep in the forest, camped up near the edge of a clear-water spring. the dragon bakugou grows lazy, curled around the perimeter of the water with his long neck and — he's a male dragon, you know, but you've got to wash yourself eventually.

you do feel a bit odd, undressing yourself as he watches, but you assume it's only out of plain and simple curiosity that he does; you assume that's why he does anything, for you, like allowing you to lay near his head when you sleep or huffing in your face until you laugh when you try to wrap your arms around his nose.

you try to pay him — an animal, a creature of fantasy — no mind as you dive below the surface, enjoying the refreshing rush of water over your skin. when you reach the bottom, tangle your hands in the gentle weeds, you feel a pang of sadness, that he might never experience such a feeling.

but when you return to the surface — he's gone.

in place at the water's edge is the collar you've never been able to loosen. rusted and creaking, looking much larger off his neck and alone in the grass, and your stomach lurches with a thousand horrible possibilities of what could have happened until —

"oi."

until you turn around and there is a massive, hulking man, naked as the day he came, with eyes the color of the scales that are dotted along his skin in stray patches. crowned in a mess of ashen hair, scars along his neck and face and arms—one of which is inked in some symbol you may have seen once. on those travellers, from the southern clans.

he, the man bakugou, you realize, has no concept of personal space — or the fact that he's totally naked and so are you — and he wastes no time in crowding into you. even rushing, a little, when you squeal and try to clamber back up the bank for your clothes.

like a stubborn boy, he pushes you into the dirt and even grins, evil and mischievous, with human teeth. you have no idea what to expect of him; men have never been too kind to you, afterall, someone without a home or family and easy to be rid of.

but he, the man bakugou, only nudges his face into yours, huffs against your cheek when you squirm, and you think, you think, you can hear some kind of quiet rumbling purr coming from the deep center of his chest.

#suddenly shy about how rushed this is but !! i had to get it out of my head he he #i love him !!!#you turn around and he's there and you're like ????? !!!!! who the hell are you !!! LOL #he doesnt want any ol' shiny thing 🥺 you are his shiny thing 🥺#okay going goodbye for now !! big kiss big kiss !!!#๑ remember me love: bakugou ๑ #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou

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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months

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Hii! Could you do a mizu w reader where one is injured (doesn't really matter which one haha) and it's like a hurt/ comfort?

Take your time and get some rest!!

Write this when I was on the verge of falling asleep, so if any of it sounds like it was coming out of my ass, it was. 🦦

‘Why did you do it?’ Mizu asked, choosing not to look at you but instead focus on your injuried chest with a hard glare.

‘Do what? Protect you from that smiley coward who was about to use unethical means to completely blindside you?’ You replied as though the answer wasn’t already glaringly obvious, you honestly didn’t understand why you had to explain your reasonings as for protecting Mizu and putting your life at risk, but if it meant showing them that someone did give a shit about whether they’d live or die; then you’d happily be that person for Mizu.

‘You had no need to protect me, I could’ve-‘

‘Easily defend yourself, I know Mizu.’ You interrupted them before grabbing ahold of their hand, memorising the feeling of callousness to memory, as you rubbed your thumb against the back of their hand reassuringly. ‘I know how strong and powerful and amazing you are. I’ve witnessed your fighting spirit first hand and it took my breath away. Literally because when we first met you knocked the wind out of my lungs with the butt of your sword, all because you thought I was some stranger about to attack you.’ You finished recounting the tale of how you first encountered Mizu with a small smile. Why? Maybe it was your way to direct their mind to a more happier and healthier memory, rather then have it stuck heavily focusing on the one where they had their back exposed to the enemy; the reason you now had a massive gash running across your chest. A gash that would surly become a permanent part of your body but also a painful reminder to Mizu.

A reminder that you could’ve been easily taken away from them.

A reminder that you’d always selflessly put them before yourself, even if that meant getting hurt, maimed, loosing a limb or worse yet; your life.

A reminder that they’ll have to get stronger if they wish to prevent you from doing so in the nearby future. Mizu knew that their revenge took presidency over everything else, even their own health, but they don’t want you to ruin yourself beyond recognition for them; It just didn’t feel right to Mizu to have you be the barrier between them and the ill intentions of other people. They were strong enough to deal with it but as it’s been made clear countless times before, you didn’t give two shits about that, and instead focused all your time and effort into showing them that they matter so much to you; Which is an admirable and respectable trait to have in Mizu’s eyes.

However that did little to quell the unease they felt upon witnessing your body drop at their feet in what felt like slow motion, just as the first sighting of blood that began to pool beneath you in such quick succession, that at one point Mizu genuinely thought they were too late to save you, this was proven especially more true when you didn’t awaken within the first couple of days after Mizu had stitched and then later covered your wound; all in due to the amount of blood you had already lost. So the feeling of being able to properly breathe again upon seeing you wake up made the uneasy feeling that little bit more bearable for Mizu.

‘While it’s appreciated to know that I can fully count on you to have my back in the heat of battle, it is not a necessity.’ Mizu states, bring the conversation back to where it was needed most, causing you to frown. ‘I should’ve known better than to think that he would honour me with a fair fight. I should’ve known that he’d play dirty the moment he realised the odds were stacked against him.’ Mizu adds, clenching their fists into the seams of their clothing, jaw clenched and their eyes become an unforgiving steel blue; all signs of their underlying rage toward themself and the cowardly man.

‘You didn’t know and that’s perfectly fine.’ You grunt as you slowly sat yourself up with Mizu’s hands supporting your endeavour whilst being mindful as to not reopen your wound. ‘It’s normal to not foresee things before they happen, otherwise it wouldn’t be considered an authentic human experience.’ You let out a little chuckle, all the while Mizu was left to sit there and narrow their brows at what you could’ve possibly thought was so humorous. ‘And to live an authentic human experience is to accept that you have limitations, especially during the moments where you wished you didn’t have any at all.’ You said as you looked into Mizu’s eyes hoping that your words were somewhat getting through to them.

‘We always question ourselves on how we didn’t see it coming, or how we didn’t see the signs but what we’re not taking into account is that we’re human. Not super powered beings of mythical origins nor gods but just plain old humans. We don’t get the luxuries that they do, however if there’s one thing we can pride ourselves in having, it’s how we take these moments to heart and learn from them going forwards.’ You smiled softly, seeing the sea of emotions within Mizu’s eyes. ‘Another thing we can pride ourselves on is our resilience and our willpower to continue paving the way forward. We get hurt but we always get back up because that’s the indomitable human spirit. That’s what we do.’

‘Where are you getting with this and what does it have to do with me allowing you in getting hurt?’ Mizu asked, curious and a little restless as to what this was all meant to mean. ‘The moral of this for you to not beat yourself up over being human for being human is all we’ll ever know how to be until our final breath.’ You explained, lifting their clenched hand within yours to press a kiss to the back of it, before placing it back onto their lap. ‘Instead of focusing on what has already come to pas, how about bringing your attention to the fact that I’m still here and I’m still breathing. Yeah?’ Mizu stayed quiet for a while, allowing for your words to sit with them as Mizu thought long and hard before finally reaching to a conclusion.

‘Only on the pretences that I get to teach you in the basics of defence.’ Mizu said. ‘As a precaution.’ They add.

‘As long as you don’t go hard on me.’ You chuckled, already visualising it.

Mizu gave you an almost missable smirk. ‘No promises.’

#mizu imagines #Mizu imagine #mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #blue eye samurai imagines #blue eye samurai x you

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nerdpoe · 9 months

Note

DPxDC prompt idea

Had to get it out but don’t quite know how to write it

Jason Todd is a halfa. He doesn’t know it yet but a certain part of the government is tracking him down. They have plans to capture and experiment on him alongside with another halfa from Amity Park. They eventually capture him via using ghost hunting equipment and he’s whisked away with barely a trace left for the Bats. Jason learns the kid’s name is Phantom and they bond while in captivity.

They can get rescued. Or not. If they do I think it should be by Dick or even Jazz in all their glory. This was meant to be a hurt/comfort and angsty kind of fic or oneshot. With maybe a lil bit of fluff thrown in.

What do you think? :D

Hmmmm...could start with Jason noticing he's being stalked by dudes in white suits, and every time he beats them they come back in greater numbers.

That would make the whole "minimal trace" thing even creepier, because multiple CCTV witnessed Jason vanish into a warehouse, then being followed by an insane amount of people in white suits.

But that's it. No evidence of a fight, no nothing. They walked into the warehouse and then they were gone.

GIW with Jason not knowing he's a halfa? He'd just be pissed they keep calling him an "it" and doing stupid experiments. He gets classified as more dangerous than Phantom cuz he never goes in his ghost form, and yet he still keeps managing to find ways to maim GIW operatives.

But that's just cuz he doesn't realize he has one yet.

Him and Danny bonding because holy shit, this is a kid.

Danny forcing himself to stay in Phantom form for as long as possible, because that form can take more punishment than his human one.

And when Jason's had enough and Danny's coded double-speak finally starts to click, he manages to go into his ghost form.

But it isn't a visage of himself as Robin.

No, Jason's been exposed to the pits. He died in fire and smoke and was reborn in poison.

His ghost form is positively eldritch.

Too many teeth, too many eyes, arms with too many joints, a form that keeps glitching out of existence-he's positively terrifying.

Add that to the fact that in his ghost form, he's always going to be a little Pit Mad?

He's murdering people left and right, and then eating their ghosts as they form.

Danny's ghost type is a Banshee, Ellie's is Poltergeist, (she never got caught tbh she's been hiding in Mount Justice) and Jason?

His technical classification is Reaper. (because i get you, Jason, and i deeply understand the need to be edgy)

By the time Danny manages to calm him down enough to go human, he and the kid are the only ones with pulses in that compound.

When the Bats arrive to break him out, the GIW compound is a smoking wreck littered with corpses, and Jason is wholly unimpressed with Bruce's rescue timing.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #story prompt

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rosemaeridream · 10 days

Text

Blood Orange Bitch | (M)

Mature content (18+)

not-so-vanilla!aeri x killer!fem reader

warnings: knifeplay, blood, knives, maiming? or is it just injuring, dom!reader, bdsm elements - see: KNIFEPLAY. reader murders people off screen and terrorises aeri on it, established relationship, kink discovery, blood... eating... idk what else to warn y’all about… oh right THERE ARE KNIVES.

A/N: sorry this took so long, i’m not usually into knives. also sorry that i’m only capable of writing about aeri at the moment i promise to get onto my other girlies

word count: 2.4k

At first she just thinks it’s your muscles, y’know? You’re both gym rats, and it’s not like she’s switched gyms and started working out in the morning just to salivate over the contour of your biceps while you use the LAT machine or sneak glances at your thighs straining to hit your 18th rep during your last set on the leg press. Definitely not. And it’s definitely not like she loves it when you come home, sweat beading off your chest and dripping down over your sports bra. It just makes her kinda horny. Sue her for being attracted to her own girlfriend.

So she just thinks she’s into fitness. On herself and on other people too. Maybe she just wants to be manhandled by someone for once. Picked up and thrown on a bed or held down or something. She hadn’t figured out the specifics yet and she wasn’t about to tell you without making sure that that was what she wanted.

Then she sees you covered in blood. It puts a slight strain on your relationship. At first she thinks it’s your own, almost sprinting out of her room to go check up on you. But she hesitates. You’re not in pain, not screaming or crying. Just walking back into the house, wiping blood off your brow so it doesn’t drip into your eyes.

You make it to the hallway leading to the bedrooms before you make eye contact with her. Aeri’s eyes widen ever so much and her breathing picks up. She’s nervous. It’s obvious to you, of course. You have a sense for people when they’re frightened.

Except you’re wrong. Aeri’s trying to figure out something to say, but the throbbing of her clit is not helping her think. Not a bit.

And fuck. The metallic smell of blood tickling her nose and the hardening of your eyes sends tingles fizzing up the back of her spine and straight to her head.

You probably think she’s woozy at the sight of blood, maybe at the knowledge that you have someone else’s blood on you. But Aeri doesn’t think about it too long because her door is slammed shut before you can even open your mouth. She buries herself in her sheets so she can get the thought of your bloodied hands leaving stains across her stomach and thighs.

Aeri avoids you for a week after. It’s funny, because she’s sure you think it’s because she’s scared of you. Of what the blood means. Who’s blood is it? What did you do?

Definitely not because she’s scared of herself. Of what being horny over blood means. Of having dreams where you dance a knife across her skin, every breath of hers stilted so it doesn’t make an incision and then wake up with a dampness between her legs.

She’s curious at heart, so she puts her figurative detective hat on and starts to sift through article after article in the news. At first, she thinks she’s crazy. Maybe she was imagining the blood, the hardened look you sent her before she slammed the door closed. But then it all unfurls like a moth eaten blanket.

Aeri almost takes it to the police. It’s her duty, right? But then ever so slowly, she comes around to the idea.

It’s dumb, right? You’ve killed at least three people going by the connections in the smallest details. But it’s not like they were gold star, moral-to-a-fault people. She’s sure you weren’t overly cruel to them in death either. Maybe just a little maiming and scratching and trailing a sharpened blade across some squirming skin to cut long incisions in their chest and stomach, the coolness of the blade mixing with the heat of the pain. So Aeri pretends like it's normal. Like she’s not staring at the kitchen knives every time she passes by, imagining you holding it to her throat. Everything is normal. The relationship is normal, the sex is normal, she’s normal. Vanilla.

She forces it to be normal, until she’s naturally slotted back between your legs as you watch a movie. Or watching you cook in the kitchen while she scrolls through her phone.

Aeri’s seen you with knives before. Aeri’s seen your muscles before. She’s seen you use your muscles and knives to cook before. So why is the thought of the knife marking your initials into her thigh or her stomach or her chest the only thing on her mind? You’re talking away like it’s nothing and she’s trying so hard not to leave a wet spot on the kitchen stool she’s sitting on.

“Anyway, so he’s like ‘ahh you can’t fucking catch me, psycho!’, and then he falls into a pit. Great scene by the way, especially when…” She should be listening. Except that you’re naturally swinging the knife around as you talk, gesturing with it like you would a pen. And God, she can’t take her eyes off it.

You’re talking about some slasher flick you saw with your friend the other day, it’s ironic considering that she still hasn’t spoken to you about the whole blood-murderer-knife thing. And the other knife thing. Besides the point – the horror movie talk isn’t helping either.

Aeri keeps nodding and humming a yes whenever you pause, just to keep you talking. Until she hears nothing and you’re not on the other side of the bench anymore.

Fuck.

You press her to the counter, the blunt edge of the kitchen knife cold against her throat.

“You haven’t been listening to me at all, baby.” Your voice is as cold as the steel and you lean in close to her face, making sure that she’s all ears. Aeri shakes her head as much as she can with a knife to her throat, still not registering that you haven’t got the sharp side on her skin.

“Fear and arousal can be very, very similar. Don't cha think?”

Aeri stammers out some kind of answer that she doesn’t even process, her breathing accelerating along with her heartbeat. It’s too real and not real enough at the same time. The menacing narrow of your eyes taking their time to study every single detail of her face before dipping lower to focus on the pressure of the knife.

Just the tiniest amount of force is applied and Aeri slips, letting out a moan she can’t take back. She watches your lips quirk, the knowledge reaped from her expressions and noises letting you in on a secret she didn’t want you to know.

“Are you scared, Aeri?” Slowly, the blade is flipped, taunting her. The sharpened edge, one she watched you prepare with a whetstone, making sure it was fit to glide through any piece of meat possible, tickling the peach fuzz of her neck.

She doesn’t shake her head this time, knowing that even if she swallowed, there’d be a trail of blood to show. Aeri’s breath hitches as you start to apply equal pressure along the blade, until you move it to drag down her neck, much like a whetstone.

You haven’t nicked her skin yet and Aeri knows you’re doing it on purpose. She’s being treated like a trophy kill, played with like a cat leaving a dead rat at the door and the only thing her brain is telling her, is that she wouldn’t mind being mounted against a wall by you.

The knife trails lower, stopping at the collar of her top, drawing out whimpers and half-hushed gasps. Then you roughly gather the cotton in your hands, holding it taught so you can pass the blade through the fabric, slicing it down til it hangs loose and exposes her bra to you. Aeri watches you move the blade until it's pointed right at her sternum, the tip sharp enough for her skin to bead blood.

“Did you know that you live for about 10 minutes after being stabbed in the heart?” Your eyes flash with sadistic pleasure as Aeri flinches against the pain. “If it’s done right, the heart should stop beating immediately and poor little Aeri is left with no oxygen to her brain.”

Aeri should be scared. She should be trying to dial emergency services with the phone clutched in her hand. She should be doing anything other than getting her panties wet. Now that the knife has left her throat she can swallow and breathe (and moan) to her heart's content, awarding you with a pink flush to her cheeks and chest, which you notice immediately.

“You’re not scared. Are you, baby?” The tip digs deeper into her skin, blood beginning to drip on her bra and stain her tattered top. Your tone is rough and it makes her step back, the bench hurting her lower back more than the knife against her chest.

“Are you?”

“No.” She whimpers, her chest rising and falling rapidly, every movement shifting the knife and deepening the cut. The bite of the blade forces another gasp from her as she tries to shift away and her phone drops from her hand, hitting the floor with a clatter. You duck down to study her incision, your breath fogging up the steel before you pull back and flick it upwards, the bloodied tip now parallel to her mouth. “Lick it.”

The blade drips with blood, sliding down the side until it gets to the hilt and seeps over your thumb. The sight makes her skin crawl. That’s her blood. Aeri’s blood.

“You’re staring at it like you want it.” You taunt, angling the blade forward until it hovers over her lips. She swallows, averting her gaze like she wasn’t just entranced by the scarlet of her own blood.

“Don’t you want it, Aeri? Have a taste of yourself. I promise it's sweeter than it looks.”

Aeri’s weaker and much more pliable than she thought. She doesn’t even think twice once she opens her mouth to lap the knife. You turn it so she can only lick the flat of the blade — at least you’re gracious enough to let her have that. Your eyes meet as your breath matches hers, laboured and long.

The taste is sweeter than she thought. It’s not comparable to jam or ketchup with too much bitterness and tang but it wasn’t gut-retching. Maybe you were right.

“Such an obedient girl.” You purr after she licks the knife clean. A moan escapes Aeri as you reach for her chin, holding it in between your index and your thumb, making sure she can’t turn away.

“You know, I thought you were nothing special in bed. Just a plain vanilla bitch.” Aeri squirms under your gaze, bracing her hands against the countertop. The flat of the knife pats her cheek as you chuckle to yourself.

“God, I was so fucking wrong. You’re a freak!”

She whimpers, shaking her head a little now that the knife isn’t pointed towards her. Frankly, she doesn’t know why she’s denying it, she’s dripping and panting and too close to cumming it’s embarrassing.

“I’m no-”

Her words are cut off by your already harsh grip on her chin getting tighter.

“You are. You’re anything but vanilla.”

There’s a sick pleasure in your eyes. For a moment she plays with the idea that if this keeps up, you might stop your ‘late night habits’ – or maybe it’s a poorly concealed attempt to hide that she wants more of this. So much more.

You snap her chin towards the knife, letting the blade turn til her cheek has a thin line of blood blooming and slowly gathering to trail down to her jaw. It isn’t deep enough to leave a mark, the equivalent of a papercut but when you press the flat of the knife back to her cheek, it feels like it burns.

Tears prick Aeri’s eyes as she fails to stop you once more. It’s getting to her, the pain, the humiliation. She can’t stop you and she can’t stop the aching of her cunt. If she knew you’d let her, she’d shove her hands down her pants right then and there, getting off on the faint marks you’ve already bestowed upon her.

“Up.” You tap the counter with your free hand. Aeri pushes herself up without a word. She knows you can slaughter her without the blink of an eye. She’s done her research, figured out where you go at night, why the smell of bleach lingers around you. She knows what you can do with that knife.

But seriously, at this point she doesn’t care. You’re already treating her like prey – why can’t she enjoy it too?

“You’re not much of a killer.” At first, her voice tremors, then somehow she pulls the audacity out of her ass to taunt you back even when she’s dripping blood from two separate locations. “You can’t even hurt me properly.”

Aeri can tell that she’s pissed you off and it’s exhilarating. The knife dips back to the valley of her breasts, following its journey down to the centre of her bra.

“You’re lucky I don’t want to blunt my knife on the underwire.” You murmur before letting gravity take control, guiding the blade plunging down until it stops a millimetre from her thigh. Aeri can’t stop herself from tensing, ready for the pain. When it doesn’t come, she practically whines in frustration.

You’re such a tease.

“Not vanilla. Maybe… chocolate?” Your head tilts to the side and Aeri has no clue what you’re planning.

Slowly, you let the blade touch her thigh, pushing up and under her skirt. Thank fuck for the skirt – as hot as it is for you to do this, Aeri doesn’t want her favourite clothes ruined.

You chuckle when her leg twitches but Aeri barely notices, her head is already buzzing from anticipating your moves – the cut on her cheek stings, keeping her from completely giving into you.

She’s paying way too much attention to the pain and not enough on your actions because suddenly there’s a sharp pinch to her clit and the flaring slice of steel against her thigh. Aeri has to grab onto your neck just to stay upright, her mouth parted and eyes closing as she begins to pant.

The blade scratches into her thigh and her nails scratch the back of your neck. Not exactly 1:1 but close enough for Aeri to get a kick out of it. Besides, the fingers sliding through her folds and stimulating her clit is enough to make the pain turn into pleasure.

It’s like a cutie mark, she notes. Except the lines slowly carve out to be your initials and Aeri practically comes at the feeling. She shudders, moaning wantonly – the knife isn’t deep enough to scar permanently, it’s not deep enough.

“Maybe not chocolate. Too common. Orange chocolate, maybe.” She can barely even hear your voice through her heavy breathing.

Aeri wails when she feels you mark two little dots to the initials her skin, effectively marking her as yours while her orgasm slams into her like a truck on a highway. She’s so completely gone, your fingers tweaking her clit and barrelling her into a second, weaker orgasm.

“A Blood Orange Bitch.” You coo as her hips stutter, grinding into your hand.

It’s too much and the last thing Aeri sees is your pink tongue licking up her blood that’s splattered on your fingers.

NOTE: almost wrote about gi being fucked with the knife’s handle but idk maybe that’s too freaky, even for me, also! might edit this later idk if it's up to my standard :P

i edited a little 🧍‍♀️ accidentally posted a version with a sentence NOT COMPLETED

#!! dreamy’s pieces #giselle x reader #aespa smut #uchinaga aeri x reader #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #giselle smut #idol x reader #aespa imagines #kpop x reader #aespa x reader #giselle x fem reader #cw: knife

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loveyourownsmiilee · 6 days

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Like honestly as a Buddie shipper, what the fuck are we supposed to focus on??? What does all of this mean if not Buddie canon???

We get closer than ever this season. There’s a lot of changes in the relationship and how we interact. We’re trying to give the audience what they want.

Well, there’s something brand new for both of us. I can only say that much.

Outside of Christopher, Buck would be the second closest thing that he can have as a relationship.

And then go to Buck and say, 'I trust you with my child, and I see how much you put in for my son; this goes beyond friendship, and I love you to the core. To have that sense of vulnerability is a sense of strength that has been shown.

And the way Eddie navigates that is just kind of a no, that's just who he is. And nothing ruffles my feathers. Even if you break my ankle or maim me, it's fine. That's who he is, and I love him either way. And there's no competition for Eddie.

I don't think that the Buddie fans are wrong.

There is a chemistry there that exists just naturally, so we don't have to try and lean into that or lean away from that. We just let it flow.

Oh, 100%. 100%. I watch certain edits and I think 'Am I Team Buddie?' because there are really talented editors out there. And you know how it is.

Obviously Eddie and Ryan who plays him is obviously an attractive man.

I think with this season 7, we got a lot in store for the audience. You give them what they’ve known and a lot of what they don’t.

There’s a scene in the first episode, where Eddie reveals that he's going — or he mentions a first date, and it in fact ends up being Christopher's first date. And Buck has this moment of "Oh. I thought things were going great with Marisol...' So little moments where I felt like, 'Is there scope to play with Buck?'

They've both become quite embedded in each other's lives. "I think they've kind of bonded and connected on so many levels, whether it be work, their personal lives and then add in that kind of fun dynamic where they clearly do just get on well. I think it's just a nice recipe for a good relationship, however you choose to see it.

There's some really beautiful stuff between him and Eddie and kind of them being open and sharing things with each other that they may have been reluctant to share with—I know how that's going to be taken. But it's true. [They're] there for each other in a very kind of open and nonjudgmental way.

They get to show up for each other in different ways. Moving forward there’s almost like potential for things to come up in a not so great light. But we get to see their friendship persevering, and them being there in ways they didn’t necessarily expect for each other. And I just, it’s a really lovely journey for them this season.

Eddie doesn't really have a sense of direction, so he reaches out for the closest person, and that closest person is Buck.

And Eddie was a mess. I think at that moment, the friendship had a turning point and now has allowed Buck and Eddie to really share as much or whatever they'd want, the scariest things in the world they could share with each other. And we're going to be seeing more of that this season.

As far as [Eddie's] sexuality, I think it's pretty clear that he's tried to fill in this motherly, this wife type role—that's all he knows…"And he's a man [that] first off, he's Catholic. Second off, he's from the military. So those are very straight-edge kind of lifestyles that don't offer too much of exploring. But through the 118, he's had this epiphany each year, like, 'Well, maybe I don't know as much as I thought I did. And maybe I should be exploring a little bit more and maybe I should understand myself a little bit more and even seek a therapist, which is something new for Eddie.

He is actually starting to figure out who he is outside of 'I am an Army man who has a silver badge! ... He's way more than that. He's starting to live in that [feeling] a little bit more, and I think that's freeing to him.

At this point we can’t be reading between the lines or coming to random conclusions when every thing said is so blatantly obvious.

#buddie #ryan guzman #oliver stark #ryliver #LIKE WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN #HOW IS IT ALL NOT LEADING TO BUDDIE #yes I’m back with another compilation sue me #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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sethsclearwater · 3 months

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Could I request play fighting with Embry, Seth, or Quil? Either one is fine or all three is fine too 😁😝 Just the general fluff and maybe even a little playful angst!

they're such a funny dynamic😭😭

...

"be careful with her you idiot!" embry called as quil got you pinned under him on the creaky wooden floors of emily's home. in your drunk antics, you'd managed to convince quil that you'd have no problem beating him in a wrestling match despite both seth and embry gently telling you otherwise.

you let out a rather loud giggle at your boyfriend's call, dropping your head to the side so you could allow your graze to drift over to him. both embry and seth were sat down on the couch with concerned looks on their faces as they watched you get a smack down from quil.

quil sat up, his curly hair spilling all over as he rolled his eyes at embry, "that's pretty bold coming from the guy who broke her ankle-" he started but was quickly cut off when embry dove off the couch to tackle him back down.

you barely even had a moment to process it before quil was being thrown off of you as him and embry began rolling around on the floor like a bunch of idiots. you'd been out with embry a few months prior and had slipped on your way into the grocery store and broken your ankle - something both seth and quil couldn't seem to let the poor boy live down.

despite all three of them getting along relatively well considering all three of them imprinted on you, seth and quil seemed to enjoy bringing up that it was technically embry's fault that he didn't catch you and stop you from breaking your ankle.

"finally!" seth exclaimed, quickly striding over to you so he could scoop you up in his arms and hug you tightly to his chest, "feels like we haven't had alone time in years!" he added and you giggled, drunkenly smiling up at him as he sat back down on the couch with you in his lap.

embry and quil seemed too lost in their own wrestling match to notice seth sweeping you up, only stopping when quil took it upon himself to feign a lethal injury.

"oh my god-" quil whined, dramatically dropping his head back onto the floor as he placed one hand over his abdomen which was only covered by a thin t-shirt, "you know how mad she'd be if you maimed me too?" he asked, a playful smirk covering his features for only a moment as he glanced back at embry.

embry was quick to wipe it off though, immediately diving back down to jump on top of quil, both of them letting out loud groans when they hit each other a bit harder then embry had anticipated.

you gasped, peeking up at seth who just snuck a quick kiss on your lips before shushing you, "they're fine," he reassured, "just idiots is all," he added, both of you laughing at his comment.

when embry and quil finally realized you weren't on the floor any more, they were quick to sit up and try and find you, both boys rolling their eyes when they realized seth had taken advantage of their antics so he could hold you himself.

"you've got to be kidding me right now," embry groaned, rolling his eyes as he smacked quil's chest before he was getting up. quil didn't seem too inclined to follow embry's lead, only offering you a warm smile from his place down on the floor that had you blushing.

"need my baby to come take care of me," quil whined, both seth and embry rolling their eyes when they saw the way your features immediately softened at his words.

in a non-inebriated state, you'd likely have just ignored him but the alcohol seemed to be working its way into your system and had you suddenly all soft and mushy over the thought of taking care of quil.

"can you stop calling her that? that's so fuckin' weird," embry groaned again, dramatically flopping down onto the couch so he could sit next to you and seth while quil continued feigning an injury.

"like pretty thing is any better," quil shot back before he was turning his attention back to you, smiling when you shyly waved to him, "you want me to come over?" he asked, laughing when both seth and embry groaned at his pick-me nonsense.

quil knew all too well how to handle you in your drunk state, already well aware of just how easily he could have you wrapped around his finger from just a few comments.

you hummed and nodded, smiling even wider when he got up and strode over to you, dramatically squeezing himself between embry and seth so he could touch you.

"oh i missed you so much, you know that?" quil teased while seth allowed you to lay across all three of their laps. you hummed and nodded, smiling as you rested your head in embry's lap.

embry was quick to stroke his fingers through your hair, "missed you," you whispered back to quil, blushing an even darker red when you saw how all three boys were fondly watching you.

quil offered you hip a playful squeeze before he was reaching over seth to grab the remote from the side table, "you wanna put your show on?" seth asked as quil made quick work of getting netflix on.

you hummed and nodded, just happy to be with the three of them.

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sehtoast · 4 months

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Soothe Me (Homelander x Reader Powerswap!au)

18+ | gender neutral reader, light descriptions of gore, showering, he takes care of you | Fic Directory

He’d never admit it, but there’s a part of him that really likes when you come home like this. Something sick and twisted in his core, something rotten that quivers with excitement every time you walk through the door covered in viscera.

Maybe it’s because of the way his life is. He’s just some average, ordinary guy shackled by the restraints of a regular human life. Wake up, take Ryan to school, go to work, pick his son up, eat dinner, sleep, and then repeat until he’s dead. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate his simple life or that beloved son of his who he was so fucking proud of, but the mundane…

He’d be a liar if he said he never wished he was special.

You make him feel that way though. When you show up at his apartment drenched in gore, he feels so very special. He feels like the keeper of an especially violent creature that would maim anyone and anything but him. Something that, despite its sharp fangs and jagged claws, would only ever touch him with tenderness– with softness.

Even at times when your hand has gone around his throat, he’s always known you would never.

So when you show up like that again, is it any wonder that John practically bounces out of bed to greet you? Hands at your cheeks to thumb away chunks of whatever moron pressed their luck, fingers combing through your blood-slicked hair, a kiss pressed to a dried patch because he is only human and doesn’t quite want some stranger’s bodily fluids in his mouth.

He’s started wearing darker shirts because of you. It’s hard to explain to a child why there’s a red handprint that won’t wash out of his clothes, but it’s much less obvious this way. Your leather clad hands fall to his waist immediately and your grip flexes the tiniest bit to steady yourself.

You can feel his warmth. You can smell him more than the reek of iron and intestinal gunk splattered all over your body. He smells of… cooked chicken. Some kind of cheap cheese. A bitter salad dressing. The lingerings of milk on his breath. He must have just finished having dinner with his son.

You shut your eyes and focus. You can hear the boy in his room. Legos clattering, narrations of dialog. He still doesn’t know about you. John doesn’t know how to tell him in a way that’s not overwhelming.

You breathe a deep sigh as he frets over you. It’s the same every time. He’s scared you’re hurt, inspecting you as he brings you to the bathroom. You’re only half aware of what’s going on. The running of the shower, the hands tugging at your suit, his clothes hitting the floor.

You’ve had a terrible day and it’s all you can think of…

Somehow, though, he draws you away from all of that. Walks you into the shower and under the stream. He adjusts the temperature the moment he sees you flinch at the heat.

You still haven’t told him about all of… that. Your life before being Homelander. When you were a mere lab rat, a product in development, poked and prodded and tortured to see what made you tick– what could make you sell . He knows a little, but… you don’t quite have it in you to see him look at you with pity.

The hands that touch you in that cramped shower take you away from everything. You’re here, not there. You’re not fist deep in that stupid fucking assistant who found you arguing with your other half in the mirror. What’s left of that fool swirls down the drain. You’re not getting berated by Edgar or dragged into some stupid fucking publicity stunt. Ashley isn’t up your ass about your itinerary. You’re here.

He’s here.

Lips press to yours, gentle and sweet, and he whispers to you.

“S’okay. You’re home now.”

Home. It was such an odd concept. You’ve had many homes. Each of the cells in the lab, the penthouse, your cabin.

None of those have ever felt like home. Here, though..? You imagine it must be as close as you’ll ever truly have to a home.

You press him to the wall, his wrists trapped in your hands as you nuzzle into his neck. His pulse rings in your ears. It pulsates louder than the stream of the shower and his breaths that grow with anticipation and a touch of excitement.

You know he enjoys it. You meant to turn this into some kind of a hug, but… all you can do is just stay like that. Hidden against him, lost in the symphony of all that keeps him alive.

“Long day, sweetheart?” His breath gusts over the tip of your ear.

You release his wrists and wrap your arms around him, drifting away. You answer him in a nod and he hugs you closer. He has to be the one to do the squeezing. If you did it, you’d shatter him.

“Let me take care of you?” He asks for permission first. He knows you love his doting, the way he spoils you rotten, but sometimes…

Sometimes you’re not able to accept it. Like a stray dog, wounded and afraid, your mistrust and fear comes out on him. He has a small understanding of why you bite. Of how many hands have hurt you, how many times you’ve had this very thing promised to you only for it to be a carrot on a stick with which you’d be beaten for ever stepping out of line.

He knows you’ve been made to beg for that which others have by right of simply existing.

Love.

He won’t ever make you beg.

He tells you this as he lathers you with soap.

“I love you.”

He tells you again as he thumbs a cleanser onto your cheeks. Looks you right in the eye and declares it with a soft smile, twinkling eyes, and a kiss. Watches you become like butter in his hands, softening, melting. The coldness in your eyes dissipates into something sorrowful and pained– something yearning.

He knows that’s how you say it back. He hopes one day he’ll hear you say the words, but this is okay for now.

He washes you meticulously, carefully, until not even a whisper of pink tint remains in the suds. He dries you before himself. Stands there dripping and cold as he puts you back together, caring for himself only once you demand it.

He wouldn’t stop shivering. You practically had to say something.

How is it that he’d sacrifice his own comfort to take care of you? He’d give and give until you had to fucking force him to take. He confuses you. You’ve never met anyone like him.

He makes you feel insane.

“Give me that,” you grumble, taking the blow dryer from him to fan it over his hair. He’d already taken care of yours. You feel practically out of your mind at how badly you’ve wanted to do this. You run your fingers through his pretty blonde locks, ruffle them into place, fluff the front just right. He practically purrs at your touch.

He’s just as bad as you in that regard. There’s something about the way he preens in the mirror as he watches you, perks up and grins, adjusts his hair just slightly from where you’d styled it that makes you chuckle.

John can’t even begin to explain how happy he is to finally see you smile.

He brings you to bed. Normally you’d be initiating shenanigans, teasing and touching him every step of the way, but you’re tired in a way that not even sleep will fix. He’s told you before that it’s a mental fatigue– that you’re overloaded and need to make time for yourself. That even The Homelander needs to take a break sometimes.

He’s adamant about it tonight.

“You can stay here. Use some of your sick days.” He schemes. “You’ve gotta have some of those after all these years, right?”

When you don’t answer, his brows knit in confusion. He knows that means no, which makes no sense to him– but he doesn’t press you to explain.

“I want you to stay here.” He says firmly. He squeezes your hands between his as he stares into your eyes, engulfing you in that oceanic gaze that has a special way of getting you to do damn near anything.

You find yourself nodding. What did you care if you pissed off everyone at Vought? It’s not like it’d be the end of the world, and you’d much rather be with him anyway. You huff a laugh against his neck as you nuzzle close to him.

How many people have ever been able to sucker you into something the way he can? Well, there was one person, but… what’s done is done.

But, John?

He had a way about wearing you down with just a simple smile, honeyed words, pretty blue eyes, and a declaration of love. You really like the way his grin grows wider when you agree. You like the way he hugs you tight and kisses the top of your head in excitement.

There’s no one in the world like him. Nobody at all.

Your Johnny is so very special.

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #antony starr #the boys #i'm running out of pics that rep human homelander well lol #the boys fanfiction

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