#He only looks human but the more you pay attention the less human he is in the worst ways possible

[freakymcnastys]

“we can't be friends” tenya iida x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ “wait until you like me again”

note: lmk if y’all want a timeskip part 2 (which would be fluff…probably)

content: hope your excited for angst. no fluff...sorry!, academic rivals, reader is kinda like beth harmon, lowkey kinda short ://

EVER SINCE YOU came to U.A it's been a competition between you and Iida from class 1A. Although the school was built and made for turning out the next heroes you didn't want to be a hero. You knew with your quirk that you would only be able to work at a corporation which is why you were in the general studies course.

This is where you met one of your best friends Shinsou. Now this guy was someone you didn't think should be in this course, his quirk was more suited for hero work which is why you've been helping him draft a letter to Principal Nezu to let him transfer into the hero course. It was a longer process then you could've guessed but you felt like you should use your quirk for something. Your quirk was called 'brain' you were basically like a human Google. People found it useful but never good enough for hero work. But at this point in your life you gave up on the pipe dream of being a hero.

You remember the first time you met him like it was yesterday. You were walking with Shinsou. Actually, you were following him more or less to where the front of class 1A's door was and many other students were at. "Hey Shin what's going on?" You asked confused at the vast amount of people. That's where you saw him. The boy with midnight blue hair and square glasses. You had a feeling he didn't know how much of a looker he was.

"Bakugou! Please don't ruin our reputation!" He exclaimed, doing a weird arm chopping motion. Well guess the blonde guys name is Bakugou, yet that didn't seem to catch your interest. You wanted to know the blue haired boys name. You barely noticed your friend talking back to the class until he was walking away. You were going to follow him until you locked eyes with the boy, he even flashed a small smile at you. It was brief but it made your cheeks heat up slightly.

"Come on y/n!" Shinsou called, pulling you back to reality. "Hey what's that guys name?" You questioned him as he raised him brow looking back to the classroom doors. "Who? Four eyes? Why don't you just use your quirk to find out?" You roll your eyes at this suggestion. "You know I don't use my quirk on people or things like that!"

"Ugh his names Iida, I think.." He huffed, pushing his hands into his pockets while walking. "Now was that so hard Hitoshi!" You beamed at him while he jokingly pushed you.

Here you were a few days later at the school library preparing for the upcoming exam. A test everyone in every course needed to take. A test you wanted to place number one on. For tests like these you were required to test with the hero course and specifically 1A which had pro hero eraserhead so you wouldn't be able to cheat on the test. Just a formality but was still such a hassle to leave your class to be in another.

You could say this is where you officially became 'Iida's rival' or so some people in 1A dubbed this little feud between the two of you.

You heard from some of the others in your course that people you should be worried about should be Iida and Momo. The first name rang a bell in your head. Suddenly the little crush you had on this guy shriveled away into the determination of getting number one on this test. Suddenly this guy was now your rival, so when you spotted him at the library an idea hit you. This Iida dudes gotta be like any other guy and a little flirting could maybe break his spirt.

Except he isn't like any other guy and your fugal attempts at flirting completely flew over his head. Well what was plan B? Beat him with your wits of course.

"You know how this works right?" Mr. Aizawa questioned as he walked you from your classroom to his. "Mhm." You retuned not fully paying attention due to the nerves and you trying to remember what you studied before. Aizawa took the hint and let silence engulf the two of you until you got to the classroom. "Take that seat next to Iida--uh Iida raise your hand."

The look on your face must've been priceless since you heard a snort come from the boy with a lighting bolt in his hair. You being sat next to him might've been the worst thing that could've happened. Now you were gonna be distracted because of this--

"Hey sorry could I borrow a pencil?" The boy in front of me whispered to me. "Oh uh sure?" As you were looking around in your pencil case you felt a pair of eyes looking at you and it wasn't the red head in front of you. "Do you mind?" You said, not even looking at Iida, who choked saliva. "What?" He questioned, fixing his glasses.

"Don't play stupid glasses. If you like my face so much why don't ya take a picture." You said sarcastically, before turning back to Kirishima to hand him the pencil. Iida just muttered something before going back to looking at his desk.

Once the test was finished you weren't gonna lie you think you did well (for not using your quirk) and now you had to wait until the bell rung for lunch so you were stuck with class 1A until after lunch.

"Hey you're that girl Iida is always beefing with right?" A girl with pink hair said, walking up to the next you were at. "Oh um yeah! Kinda sucks that's what you guys know me as.." You laugh nervously. Is this seriously how the best hero class knows you as? Well your repuation is out the window now. "No! I'm sure you're super cool! I had heard that from someone in 1B!" She quickly defends herself.

"Oh! Well I'm y/n! It's nice to meet you then!" You push out your hand in front of you to have her gladly accept it. You then learned her name was Mina and then the boy who borrowed your pencil joined the conversation but you felt like the rest of the class was also somewhat listening since you were a stranger in their class. "Hi! I'm Kirishima! What's your quirk?"

There was something about the boys smile that made you feel safe which seemed like a weird thing to think at the time. "It's called brain--I'm basically google!" You joked, smiling, which made them laugh with you. "Then that makes sense why your here." You heard a boy with green hair say. You reconginze him. He's the kid from the entrance exam that comepletly wrecked his arms and legs.

"But hey that just shows how smart you are!" Lighting bolt boy said. Mina just rolled her eyes. "Stop glazing her Denki, she doesn't want you!" This made Denki get red in embarassment but in turn some others snorted and laughed at the two.

"Probably cheated on the others.." You heard from behind you but it was more of a whisper that was accidently louder then intended. "Excuse me..?" You turned around to see Iida was a sour look on his face. He just shrugged.

Although one good thing did come out of that foul confrontation with Iida. After that happened the girl from class 1A, Mina invited you to hangout with her in her dorm. Her instructions were simple yet sketchy. ‘come to room 2c but don’t let anyone see you.’

You had texted Shinsou before you left your dorm just in case someone needed to know where you were going.

Once you got to Mina’s dorm you were met with a whole group of people. Once we all got introduced you finally learned who everyone was. Jirou and Denki were near the tv. Bakugou and Kirishima were by the balcony and Sero was now sitting me and Mina. This had to be one of the most fun hangouts you had been to in a while.

“So if you’re playing poker you could totally win all the time right?” Sero said, sipping his caprison. “Yeah I guess but I don’t use my quirk on people.” Bakugou just scoffed. “Lame!”

“Listen I have good reason! People had like weird shit going on up there alright..” The rest of the night went how you would expect. We ate, played games and eventually had to say our goodbyes. But from then in you would always hangout with what we were dubed (by the rest of your classmates) the bakusquad. Which is a stupid name by the way.

Now that you were hanging out with the “bakusquad” more, you started to become friends either others in the class too. Everyone except Iida. Although something in you wanted to be friends with him, maybe even get closer to him but any attempt was met with resistance so eventually you gave up until one day.

You were sitting on the steps in front of 1A’s dorm since you started to feel a bit claustrophobic with everyone in the common area. You hadn’t realized Iida was standing next to you until he spoke up. “Can I sit here?” He said a lot more politely than he ever has in the past.

After clearing his throat like 100 times out of nervousness Iida started. “I’m sorry for how I acted before—It wasn’t very pleasant and I shouldn’t have said or done what I did.” You could tell how sincere he was so you allowed him to continue without interrupting.

“Can we start over and be friends?” He smiled. God that smile. You remember seeing that smile the first time you ever saw him. You’ve come to love and hate it so much. Which is what possessed you to say what you did.

“We can’t be friends.” You said quietly as your breath appeared in front of you due to the cold air. “what?” He breathed out with furrowed eyebrows.

“You… just cling to your stupid papers and pens because that’s all you seem to care about.” You felt a pit in your stomach start to grow. “I-what? What are you saying?” He asked confused for the upteenth time.

“This is all I have—hell it’s all I’ll need. You can graduate and become a hero but me I have to work hard and leave with good grades so I can work at a big corporation. I just…I can’t be friends with someone who can jeopardize that right now…” You finished, standing up from you spot to have your back face him.

“But I-“ You cut him off by turning around to face him briefly. “It’s okay. I’ll just be waiting for you to like me again…especially after this.”

[bruhger]

Man in Red

3/29/23

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPxDC prompt: Danny is Chronos' first child.

Well, not his first child biologically, to be completely honest.

It just so happened that the Phantom very often helped/helps/will help Clockwork at different times and his presence next to the titan required an explanation.

And the opportunity to call Zeus a little brother is worth a lot, right? So when the Ancient came up with this idea Phantom did not resist just to have such a pleasant bonus from their cooperation.

However, in the time of the gods and heroes, such a solution was not a problem. But in modern times, when Phantom tries to attract as little attention as possible in order to graduate from university, such relatives are more likely to cause a lot of problems.

~~~~~

Wonder Woman: Uncle Danny?

Superman, who wanted to chase away a teenager serenely strolling through still smoking battlefield, turns to Wonder Woman, who is waving affably at excactly this guy.

Well, Fenton honestly happened to be in Fawcett City by accident, and it just so happened that by chance it was on this sunny and cloudless day that the villains decided to cause riots worthy of the attention of the founders of the Justice League.

Danny: Diana! My dear, it seems like we really haven't seen each other not for a long time! In what century was it? Ah, I honestly, I barely remember it... The speed at which children grow up defies the laws of time. I mean, look at you! Your mother must be so proud. How's Dad? Still not paying child support, arrogant bastard?

Wonder Woman: Oh, uncle, please. I'm all grown up now, don't worry about me.

Danny: Hm, well, let's get back to this question later. I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends. Anyway, would you like to introduce them, little princess?

Wonder Woman: Of course, meet Kal El, Batman, and Shazam. The rest of the guys have already returned to our base. Would you like to...

Danny: Ooh, you're talking about, um... What do you young people call it? The Justice League, right? During my youth, the heroes rarely united and mostly performed all the feats alone. It's good that you help each other, kids.

Danny flies up a little to pat Superman and Batman on the head.

Under the Diana's gaze full of hope that they will get along with her uncle, the men do not move.

In the background:

Red Hood and Robin who used to hang out with Danny near the Lazarus pits: *sounds of seagulls dying of laughter*

~~~~~

Flash: So you're Diana's uncle?

Danny: Yes, call me Danny.

Flash: Cool, cool...

Danny: What does the temperature have to do with it? Do you need ice? Let me make some for you.

Flash: No, it's like,um, I didn't know that Zeus has a younger brother with that name. So, it's good to know?

Danny: Hmm, thanks. Many people tell me that I look quite young, hah. But actually I'm his older brother, so...

Flash: Older? Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect.

Danny: No, it's all right. It's "cool". I rarely appear on the pages of your human myths and legends, I know it. After all this business about Chronos devours his own children, my father punished me for a long time. So, yeah...It's a funny story.

Flash: Punished for what? How?

Danny: Uh, sitting in a room at a time when there is no Internet or electricity is not fun at all. You see, I just didn't want a younger brother or sister because I was afraid that my parents would pay less attention to me. So, I made up this stupid prophecy and persuaded Gaea to tell it in order to remain the only child in the family. My father would never have thought that I would decide to kill him, that's why...Phah, it's just a bad family story. In 10 thousand years, we'll all laugh about it.

Flash: Yeah, that's... funny.

~~~~

Danny *is woken up by an emergency call from the League at three in the morning, although he fell asleep at two o'clock* (he gave his contact so as not to upset his niece): I knew this would happen! I knew it!

~~~~

Billy Batson *stands in his human form in front of the Justice League and doesn't know what to say*,*sweating nervous*.

Danny *enters the hall*: What's up, mortals, Diana and...Batman? My father said that there is something that I have to be here for. Oh! Well, at least someone in this family is also a shapeshifter. Have you decided to make a younger form so that your uncle doesn't feel lonely? What a good boy! Usually everyone is so afraid to seem like children, once they turn a couple of centuries old. Ah, youth~

Billy: Yeah, I decided to..experiment? and it seems I got stuck by accident.

Danny: It's okay, Uncle Danny will help you. Come on, let's go...

~~~~

Danny *teleports them to the Fawcett City*.

Billy: ....

Danny:

Billy: Hey, I'm still stuck!

A new portal opens and a man in a purple cape hands Billy a note. "Go to Constantine. P.S., my son always completes all assignments only by half, sorry." written on it.

Billy: Oh... OoOhHh!!!

~~~~

Meanwhile, Constantine, who is forced to do additional work: Son of a bi... beloved and respected Master of Time.

Danny: Yeap, that's me.

Constantine: Damn it. Couldn't you just let Batman adopt him like in other timelines?

Danny: And where's the fun in that?

[sanemistar]

i won’t let you go — satoru gojo

contains ★ satoru x gn!reader, established relationship, angst to fluff, petnames (baby, love, babe, etc.), 1k wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

ever since you and satoru have started dating, you heard a lot of gossip and side talks from people around you about how he's never been faithful to any of his past lovers, how he lets them go after less than six months, saying that he no longer finds them interesting, that he's done being with them, how he's never truly loved and probably never will be able to love anyone. that he's a selfish man who's nothing but a player who toys with people's hearts then tosses them away when it's all over. and you’re no exception, as it’s only a matter of time before you meet the same fate as them.

he'll let you go and forget about you as if you two have never met, because satoru gojo is incapable of loving anyone.

however, you pay no attention to these words. and even if what they say is true, you still refuse to believe that it's anything but mere nonsense. and decide to fully trust satoru like you always do.

because the satoru you know and love, the man you're dating right now, your loving boyfriend, is deeply and madly in love with you. the way he kisses you ever so passionately, how he whispers the sweetest of love words to you all the time, and how he holds you in his arms tightly every night as you doze off to sleep listening to his heartbeat. no way he's leaving you, is it? you're certain of that. after all, he's promised that he'll always love you, that he'll never leave your side no matter what, that he'll never let you be alone without him. because he can't live without you.

he finds comfort in you, you're his home as he claims. and you feel the same way about him, you can't live without him either.

although, you try your best to brush these thoughts off. you can't help but wonder if it's true that he'll let you go the same way he did with the ones before you, that he'll break all these promises about being together forever.

unaware, you let these thoughts consume you as you slowly drown in sorrow.

your head starts spinning as you begin imagining the moment he breaks it down for you that he's leaving, that he no longer wants to be with you, that he's done with you. and your stomach is instantly clenched in a knot. you feel a painful pang in your heart as it gets heavier and heavier by the second.

just when you’re about to get completely lost in your thoughts, you feel a soft touch on your shoulder. you turn around and it’s none other than satoru. he cheekily smiles at you, but his cheerful expression quickly changes into a concerned, panicked one the second you start crying.

“…toru.” you sniffle as you start sobbing uncontrollably, hot tears begin to overflow out of your now red eyes like how water flows from an overfilled cup. he rests his hand on your cheek, his thumb caresses your skin delicately as he leans in. he presses feather like kisses on your face and eyes, gently kissing your salty tears away.

“why’s my baby cryin’? what’s wrong, love?” he questions, his tone is a mix of tenderness and concern. a worried look is shown in his ocean blue eyes, it pains him tremendously seeing your teary eyes and sad face, he simply can’t stand it.

you blink, eyelashes wet from crying so much. and you pause momentarily, hesitant to let the words come out of your mouth.

“i just… thought about you possibly.. leaving me alone and..” you utter in between your sniffles, lips slightly twitching. satoru doesn’t let you continue and cuts you off mid sentence.

what you don’t know is, satoru needs you far more than you need him. you're the only one who loves him for who he is as just an ordinary human and not the strongest, you allow him to be himself freely without any restrictions, he doesn't have to fake anything around you. and most importantly, you’re the one who’s introduced him to love, you’ve shown him what it’s like to truly love someone. so leaving you has never been an option to him. the thought has never crossed his mind, not even once.

"babe listen, ‘kay?” he speaks tenderly as he rests his other hand on your cheek, cupping your face in his big hands as he brings you closer to him. eyes pierced on one another, locked in an unwavering gaze, as if you're staring into one another's soul.

“no way i’m leavin’ you, not now, not ever. so don't think about that anymore, 'kay? we’re stuck together for life." he reassures you, the tone of his voice is so soft and sweet, yet affirmative and serious. he then slightly brushes his nose against yours and it tickles you a little before his hands let go of your face, only to pull you in his arms instead. your eyes widen for a split second before you rest your head gently against his broad, well toned chest. your hands grip the back of his shirt tightly, holding onto him for dear life as you steady yourself listening to his calming heartbeat. his slender fingers delicately run through your hair while pressing a series of quick, loving pecks on the top of your head.

he smiles the moment he feels you relax in his embrace. to satoru, you being in his arms as he feels your warmth against his skin is everything he’s ever needed. as long as you’re here with him, that’s more than enough for him, he doesn’t need anything or anyone else.

“i won’t let you go.” he whispers ever so softly against your ear, his voice rings in your ears like a sweet melody. and you hum quietly, smiling against his chest as your eyes slowly shut in relief. you let yourself trust him once more as his earnest words wash over the little doubts that have been there.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @stunies @itoshivy @hanaeriin @spkyssn @17020 @kalsplace

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere academic rival who really, really wishes he could just get you out of the way.

Dead dove Do Not Eat! MDNI ! NSFW !

Tw. Dubcon/Noncon, bullying, academic pressures, blackmail, oral sex, explicit photos, mentions of baby trapping, yandere, stalking, forced relationship, AFAB reader

Elias had a certain level of respect for you.

You both attended a prestigious university crammed full of students vying to make connections and nab a cushy position for themselves in the future, and while it was easy for him to be on top of the social and academic scenes, he knew you had to work a bit harder. He came from a very wealthy household, one where needing something was merely a concept and not something he ever actually encountered. You, on the other hand, definitely come from a lesser background than him and his circle. Your scholarship and just above the average academics seemed to have pushed you into a good spot to be hoisted into the same realm as him.

But he didn't really think of you much at first.

You were some nameless face that wasn't really worthy of being around him. Maybe he would catch glimpses of your hair, or someone woud mention you in passing and he'd pretend to be intruiged.

It was really when you started to be compared to him of all people that he started to really pay attention.

You were smart, cunning, and ruthless when it came to your assignments. Just like him. Normally he worked overtime, paid industry professionals to help review his papers, his study materials and poured blood sweat and tears into his academics. And yet you somehow managed to be on his level with less than half the resources. It drove him up a wall because if you were nearly as good as him now, then what could you be like if you had the chance?

Elias was like a man obsessed after your sudden, explosive rise in the minds of professors and lecturers alike. He spent hours studying, shirking his friends and other responsibilities just to make sure he was still better than you, to keep you in your place.

He started to focus in more on your personal life, too.

Where on earth did you come from? He's half convinced that you were genetically designed in a lab to piss him off. But the more he glares at the back of your head when you're not looking, the more he's transfixed. You're like a black hole, or some kind of other abyss like metaphor. Fuck, you had him writing poetry in his head. He hated poetry. He hated you. Or at least, he would really like to hate you, but he couldn't. You had the same amount of drive as him, maybe even a little more. No matter what he did, he was forced to acknowledge you, forced to be aware of every twitch of your hand or every flutter of your eyelids. To him, you were something that demanded attention, even if it was taken from him through gritted teeth.

The only reprieve from his spiraling was the fact that you felt the same way about him. He liked to imagine that you were just as obsessed with him, sitting there in the late hours of the night writing down equations with him as your sole motivator.

But then he finds out that he's not even occupying your mind, and he loses his shit.

"Oh Elias? Yeah I guess he's fine. Huh? Rivals? What the- no way I just want good grades. He has nothing to do with it haha."

You just said it in passing when someone teased you about it, and he knew that he shouldn't linger on your words for too long. If anything, it should make him feel better. You had nothing against him, so it meant everything was fine, right? Wrong. It was so wrong.

Elias was seething, nearly throwing a tantrum. How could you not even think about him. Him! You were some piddling, pathetic excuse for a human being, and you had the audacity to not even regard him when he spent nearly every waking moment thinking about you.

He was fine just watching you from the corner of his eye. He was fine knowing that on some level, the two of you had a respectable if not distant relationship. Just because in some aspect, he wanted a piece of you all to himself. And if you weren't going to let him just have a little bit of your life, your passion, your drive, he would just take all of you instead.

He follows you into the library late one night. You're sitting there, glowing in the warmth of the nearest lamp while your pen makes soft scratching noises against the paper. You look pretty. You've always looked pretty to him. You don't notice him as he approaches, and he feels any vestiges of doubt or restraint float away. Even now, as he loomed over you, you didn't even spare him a glance.

The library was empty. He made sure it was so before hand, and he's glad he did. The quite air was shattered by the sound of him shoving you over the priceless lacquered wood desk. Your eyes go wide as you take him in, and his hands fly up to your throat.

"Augh! What are you-?"

"Shut up." He hisses and narrows his gaze. Your pulse is racing underneath his fingers, and he has half a mind not to crush your windpipe into oblivion so that he can be the last one to feel it. "You have no idea," He mutters and leans in close. Your frightened breath ghosts over his skin, and he shudders. Now that he thinks about it, this is the first time he's ever been so close to you. It feels so right. He never wants to be away from you again. Not when you look so damn alluring with tears rolling down your cheeks and your clothes rumpled on the floor by his feet.

He wants you like this always, with your twitching cunt stuffed full of his fingers and your cries filling his ears. Soft, wet squelching noises met each of his ministrations, and a cruel, wonder filled grin spread across his face.

"You have no idea how much you've driven me wild," He laughs. It's a sharp sound that grates on your ears. "How much you infuriate me," Each word is punctured by a thrust, by a curling motion that has you gasping and seeing stars.

If this is what he has to do so that you notice him, so you will just fucking care about his existence more than you would any other speck of dust on the street, then so be it.

It only gets worse from there.

Elias takes photos of you. So many. Ones of your crying face, ones of your leaking pussy, some of him shoving his dick past your puffy lips. Once the camera shuttered and they were in his hands, it was all over.

He played the role of your boyfriend after that.

There wasn't a moment where he wasn't hovering over your shoulder, whispering threats into your ears. He gets you to start doing worse in your classes and on your assignments, and for once, he's happy. He finally has your eyes on him, and if you ever try to leave him or say anything, then he'll make sure you can never show your face around here again. Don't worry, though. He's kind enough to keep it so you won't fail outright. In fact, he'll just slip some money to some of the professors so you don't have to do anything other than sit on his lap and pay attention to him while he actually works for the top spot.

Elias takes you out on fancy dates as if it's any way to soothe the sting of having your life ruined. He pays for everything and practically preens under the feeling of finally getting what he wants. He's such a brat, and he doesn't even care about hiding it when he's with you. Part of the reason why he likes you is he can be his nasty, awful and conniving self and you have no choice but to accept it. He doesn't mind if you're reluctant or stubborn. In fact, he kind of likes it because in the end, you still gave in to have a chance to graduate from a prestigious school. And plus, now you're living the high life with him! It's kind of a win win if you think about it.

He loves having you sit on your knees (a cushion underneath them of course. He wouldn't want you to ever actually get hurt) and taking his cock in your mouth while he studies. You look so cute like that, with your eyes all narrowed in mildly hidden frustration, and he loves it even more when he thrusts into your throat. You always make these little spluttering noises that just drive him wild, and he clamps his thighs around your head to keep you there.

Elias who soon becomes the university's beloved model student. He's not going to let anyone get in his way ever again, especially not after he has you to provide for now. After all, he's got plans for you. Once he manages to put a baby in you, he'll know that your future family is secured, and he's got to support all of you. There's no way he can fail now!

[absolutely-esme]

What do you mean he's not eldritch?

What if all of the members of the Bat Family other than Tim Drake were secretly eldritch abominations?

They all work very hard at pretending to be human, and they've even gotten pretty good at passing. They can even mostly avoid the uncanny valley when in their civilian identities. There was a heck of a learning curve, but they've gotten things figured out for the most part.

Enter: Tim Drake

Weird, poorly socialized, probably autistic Tim Drake

The Bats think they've encountered a fellow eldritch being in disguise, and one that seems like he could use some help blending in. Naturally, they're quick to welcome him into their fold. Jason is delighted to take his turn at being a big brother mentor.

It takes a comedically long time for anyone to realize something's up because there is an absurd amount of overlap between stuff you need to know for masking and stuff you need to know to pass as human.

Meanwhile, Tim is amazed that the Bats have apparently decided he's cool enough to hang out with. It's like something out of his daydreams. They even have good advice for him on problems he hadn't known how to ask about. They are so patient and understanding about it, too. They never get annoyed with him for not already knowing. They also seem to be okay with the bits of weirdness he can't change.

Just weird kid Tim getting bundled into an incredibly helpful and supportive found family of eldritch entities. They're all going to get a good grade in human-ing, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve.

...

I imagine the Bats are various different kinds of eldritch abominations because they're still adopted. They look wildly different when not in human form.

Bruce is a mass of... shadows? Smoke? Something dark and formless that shifts and flows in different ways depending on his mood.

Dick kind of looks like a pile of owls that is also somehow a single body.

Barbara is a spiral galaxy with stars that are also eyes somehow?

Jason is a solid-looking mass of muscle with six strong legs, a thick coat of shaggy hair, a mouth that opens much further along his body than it seems like it should, and even more teeth than you'd expect a mouth that size to have.

Stephanie Brown is kind of like an incredibly dense storm system with purple glitter.

Cassandra is a silhouette through which undiscovered nebulae can be seen. What she is a silhouette of depends on her mood.

Tim, they have only ever seen in his meticulously well-crafted human form. He's really good at that part even if he needed some help with the behavioral bits.

Damian is half human. Talia saw a mass of living darkness trying really hard to pretend to be a man and decided she was into that.

...

Dick: So, eye contact is actually pretty simple once you have the formula figured out. You need to cycle between looking at the other person and looking at something else at the appropriate frequency. If you look at them too much it will come across as staring. If you look away for too long they'll think you're not paying attention to them. You'll need to experiment to figure out the appropriate frequency.

Tim: *frets*

Jason: You don't have to look straight at their eyes, just in the general direction of their face.

Tim: Oh! I can do that!

...

I think Eldritch Bruce having history with the league of assassins in a markedly less inentional way than Canon would be funny. Like, you'd think an encounter between an eldritch abomination and a cult would be deliberate on someone's part, but no.

Bruce was still young and unskilled at differentiating between normal and abnormal human behavior.

[radiance1]

Danny often felt tired, as of late.

He wasn't certain as to why he did, though. It happened after his, apparent, coronation as the Prince of the Infinite Realms and after finally getting a boyfriend out of that damsel in distress who made him into one.

Which was unfortunate, because though he may try, it was very hard to pay attention on dates when Danny felt he just came from using the Ecto-Skeleton and no amount of sleep would make it go away. Fortunately, however, Billy was very understanding and accommodating of his plight, letting him sleep on him whenever he wanted and having their dates be less mentally/physically demanding things.

Man, Danny loved his boyfriend.

Unfortunately, he was away on one of his Justice League mission things.

Another thing he noticed, is that he liked to sleep in more cold places now. Very, very cold places.

So much so, that he genuinely debated moving to the Far Frozen if not for his parents turning his room into a literal walk-in freezer for him.

Did he ever find out why he needs to sleep so much? No, not really. But man.

Danny could go down for a nap right now.

---

Pariah was having a good, very good day.

He woke up, stretched, ate some food he didn't actually need to, did some light exercises after aeons of not using his sword and just fighting in general and sat down for some tea.

Even had a letter from the Master of Time with a P.S that two humans would be busting down his door!

Wait what-

"Ghost King!" Came the rather loud, effeminate shout accompanying the loud slam of his castle doors. "Where is our son!"

Honestly, Pariah is impressed by the lungs on that human.

"You heard her!" He looked down calmly at the... Actually, what in the infinite is that? Since when did humans go walking around with cannons??? "Tell us where our son is our so help me! Ghost King or not we'll exorcise you right where you stand!"

Pariah blinked slowly, very, very slowly.

Then took a sip of his favorite ghost blend then calmly placed the cup back down.

"You must be the boy's, human, parents I presume?" He asked calmly, gaze sweeping over them both. They seemed to be prepared for war, a burning fire in their eyes as they stared down the very King of Infinity and saw only an obstacle.

Oooooh, how that made the part of him that longed, sung for battle purr in sheer delight.

"Why don't you join me for tea?" He said, waving a hand and conjuring forth two extra, human sized, chairs on the opposing end of his table alongside two more tea cups. "And explain whatever is going on, while you're at it."

The two shared a glance between each other, then slowly lowered their weapons down to a point where they could still draw them at a moment's notice, yet not actively antagonizing the king at the same time-

Oh, he just loves these types of mortals.

-before slowly making their way to their seats, which were right next to each other of course. Married and whatnot.

"Tea?" He flicked a finger, filling their cups with the same that was in his cup but before remembering. "Ah, right. Human and your mortality." He casually mentioned, flicking his finger and changing the liquid to one of the few mortal blends he could still recall. "Worry not, for they are not poisoned." He chuckled lightly.

Honestly, doing such a thing would be beneath him, especially when faced with mortals of such fire.

"Now," He brought his cup to his lips. "Why don't you inform me as to what, exactly, has brought you to my doorstep prepared for battle?"

They, once more, exchanged a glance between each other, making sure the king was still in sight before Maddie opened her lips.

"Our son is missing."

---

The summoning was a success.

A terrible, terrible success.

One that the Justice League, One John Constantine especially, had valiantly attempted to stop.

But, unfortunately, once it got going it seemed to be incapable of stopping.

Faced with an entity being summoned from the Infinite Realms, they had called all of the heroes who were capable that weren't occupied. Shazam, unfortunately, was one of said heroes occupied.

Superman and Wonderwoman? Were not. So, at the very least, they had two of their heaviest hitters available.

The circle glowed a toxic green, growing and growing in glow until it reached its zenith.

Then was snuffed out as brightly as it glowed.

The air stilled, followed by a chill that rivaled the chilliest of snowstorms as if they were standing within one that very moment.

The next moment?

Ice.

Pure, unflinching, jagged pillars of ice rose from the circle the same moment it glow returned. Sticking out from the circle haphazardly and nearly impaling those that stood too close.

Mist, thick, blue mist. Rolled from the pillars of ice, descending down onto the floor with a gentleness that was almost deceptive if not occupied by such cold and being completely and utterly unnatural as it was.

The Justice League readied themselves.

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Darkest Desire

Based off of this nonnie request! It’s a bit scarier than intended and I do apologise for that teehee. There’s also no smut…

Blurb: With a group of friends you visit the local Halloween Scare walk, an event that is hosted annually out in the creepy plaines of Hawkins and whilst it’s masks on for the locals, it’s very much masks off for the scare actors…

Pairing: Scare Actor!Eddie x Reader

Warnings: 18+, the holiday of Halloween is mentioned, talk of blood/gore, faux blades/knives, cursing, reader is referred to as girl, use of pet names, degrading, praising, stalking (cat&mouse), sly/cocky and slightly mean!Eddie. Characters are all 20+

-

divider by @reveriesources

Crunchy dry blood orange leaves litter the earth and frost tainted wind nips at your nose and cheeks. The squeals of excited children racing by your costume clad frame fills your ears with immense joy and you giggle airily as they launch themselves into one another. Racing toward the brightly lit luminescent funfair games in hopes of winning a stuffed animal or a goldfish in a bag.

Their parents lug behind them, their attire consisting of some makeshift costume they had thrown together at the last minute in hopes of pleasing their tiny humans and earning themselves a quiet car ride without any tantrums or fuss.

Your group, on the other hand, weren’t here for the childish and conning games. You were all here for the Scare Walk.

You hadn’t agreed on a coherent group costume so it was a pick and mix of totally different genres and ideas and from an outside perspective it was abundantly clear that there was no communication on the matter whatsoever.

Steve was dressed as the main character from Nightmare On Elm Street, Freddy Kruger. Nancy clearly had helped with the makeup aspect of the costume assemble but everything else screamed Harrington. He cropped the stripped knitted jumper to better suit his athletic frame and his hair was still very much classic Steve.

Robin had taken a whole new approach, dressing up as the colourful Rubik’s Cube puzzle toy. Deriving inspiration from the colourful squares she wore a long black jumpsuit covered in humongous reflective and vibrant square sequins. She more resembled a neon glitter ball, but you gave her the benefit of the doubt.

Nancy’s body was hugged by a khaki green boiler suit that had the long legs cut off and on her back she wore a black backpack with some DIY altercations made to it. She has begged Mike to help her create her costume, and that’s how she ended up dressed as a Ghostbuster, putting a strong feminine spin on the male dominated film. You hadn’t expected anything less from Nance, she was always looking for ways to empower women and her costume made you smile. Proud.

Jonathan had chosen a much whackier costume to better fit with his personality. The pungent smell of weed radiating from his body only complimented the fluorescent green costume he was wearing and the radioactive orange bandana blindfolded over his eyes. He had opted for the beloved character from the children’s series Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’, Michelangelo. Which shouldn’t have surprised you— but it did.

And finally, you had chosen something distinctively different from your friends. You had made the bold choice to go as a flapper girl from the 1920’s, inspired by Fitzgeralds novel The Great Gatsby. It was a bold move because you paired the costume with kitten heels and although they were small you knew by the end of the night your feet would be crying out for rest. It is a Scare Walk after all. Your body was adorned by glitter and lace and the fringe of your dress tickled at the exposed skin of your legs.

It was a bit chilly tonight, but you were having too much of a ball to really hone in and pay attention to the sharp gusts of wind. Steve and Robin were arguing over whose costume was more original and whilst Robin’s was, Steve always somehow managed to argue himself into being ‘right’.

“Talk to me when you have hand sewn a bazillion sequins onto something and not just took a pair of shears to a ratty old sweater.” Robin remarks with a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest and marching ahead of Steve.

“Hey! I’ll have you know that it was surprisingly difficult to cut this thing into a straight line— and it isn’t ratty or old, I literally bought it like two days ago.” Steve fires back with a squinted gaze as he follows closely behind Robin’s reflective beacon of light that seems to lead us through the dimness. Nancy grumbles inwardly to herself.

“Can you two stop bickering like babies? We’re here to have fun! So let’s go and do that!” She hooks her arm with yours, charging forward, “I heard that some people from campus are working here this year. I don’t know what they’re doing but isn’t that exciting? We might bump into them!” You admired how Nancy could make a good situation out of everything, however you didn’t quite share her enthusiasm for meeting people you already knew. Nancy was all about making and strengthening connections whereas you wanted to just have fun— judgement free.

And now that you knew that your peers were watching your every move you couldn’t help but feel your confidence shrink slightly and your words clam up. Dying in your throat before they could ever be heard aloud.

-

The walk started off relatively slow and rather boring. You kept mistaking your dress tickling your calf’s as insects running up the skin of your legs and Robin would giggle at the way your head was constantly shooting downward.

“You seem awfully jittery— is someone scared already?” She taunts, wiggling her eyebrows at you and grinning widely as she did.

You scoff in response, “Please. I’m nearly dozing off back here.”

An eerie dark silence falls over the group and the golden haze from the spooky funfair starts to fade into the background behind you as you venture further and deeper into the doom and gloom of night fall.

The smell of sweet popcorn no longer lingers in the hairs of your nostrils and a sinister chill runs down the back of your spine; like fingers tickling your bare skin.

“Are we sure we are sticking to the trail? It’s getting pretty dark out here— OH MY FUCKING GOD!!” Two little girls dressed in bloody dresses and horrifying makeup charge toward you from a nearby hidden brush. Their eyes glow a disturbing shade of white and they hold faux knives that still look devilishly real. You stumble backwards, nearly collapsing from shock however before you could fall to the ground you feel a hard body hit your back which makes you scream out in terror.

The figure laughs at you, jeering and sharp as you whip around to meet him and your hand is quick to find your chest. Your fingers claw at the fabric of your dress and you fist the fabric with a shaky grip. You’re panting, struggling for breath and the skull painted face looms over you for a moment too long; cocking his head to the side as he examines your costume.

That’s when you realise something. Something that you immediately recognised as a dark secret. A dark desire that should be kept hidden.

As his onyx orbs gleam and glare down at you, you feel a wave of heat feather your cold skin. Your core pulses between your thighs and your mouth hangs open in dreadful clarity; you were fucking turned on by this.

His chiselled face is painted to resemble a bare skull. White with inky dark circles that deepen his eye sockets and his cheekbones are defined with thick blended shadowy lines. His lips are painted black to match his contours and he has hand drawn on a stretched toothy smile and an empty nose cavity.

He doesn’t speak a single word.

He just stares at you. Almost as if he is furious with you.

And before long he drags himself away from you, like the simple task is deemed painful and impossible for him.

His torso is dressed in a fitted white button down shirt which is rolled up to his elbows and it exposes his tattooed forearms. On his legs he wears a simple but professional pair of black trousers paired with black suspenders that sling over his shoulders. On his feet he has combat boots supporting his ankles and some sort of padded device strapped around the joint of his knees.

You gawk at him as he skates across the concrete on his knees at an alarmingly fast rate toward another group of poor people; leaving sparks of light in his dust as they squirm and scream. Some of them even go as far to sprint off into the darkness away from him; which leaves the masked man cackling darkly and running after them.

“Holy shit! I had no idea he would be working here this year!” Steve slaps the palm of his hand onto your shoulder as he chuckles heavily and you pull away from him confused and slightly annoyed.

“Who is ‘he’ and how do you know him?” Steve’s laughter dies out slowly and his hands come to rest on his hips. A stance that he did often. The rest of the gang come to join you with curious expressions on their faces.

“Seriously? You don’t recognise him?” There’s a pause as you shake your head ‘no’ and Steve rolls his amber eyes dramatically, “That’s Eddie Munson, dipshit. He’s always smoking weed out in the courtyard on campus? Playing with the fire from the benson burner during chemistry— is this ringing any bells?” You shrug, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

Is Eddie Munson someone you should know about?

“He has long, curly hair— not better than mine but hey, it’s definitely up there.” Steve’s hand smooths over his slicked back hair that is thick with gel and you laugh, now being able to form an image of Eddie in your mind.

“Ohh, the metal head? He sometimes walks around with his guitar slung over his back?” You reply as you begin to walk off after realising that you have all come to a stand still— and partially because you want to see Eddie again.

“Yeah! He is wicked with a guitar! I’ve seen him play.” Robin chirps from your left and Nancy hums on your right.

“He is pretty good.” Jonathan speaks through a mouthful of candy and you try to disguise your disgust as you unfortunately get a glimpse of the food on his tongue.

“Right…” is all you quietly reply as your eyes scan the bluish darkness. You can hear an owl hooting off in the distance and if it weren’t for the jump scares waiting for you, you would find this promenade quite peaceful.

Crickets whisper conversations from the tall blades of grass and you can see lanterns dotted up ahead of you. They cast ghoulish shadows all around the dirt path and your head twitches from side to side— trying to catch any of the silhouettes moving.

But they don’t.

You have strayed further ahead of the group, their voices hitting your ears in the form of muffled sounds but you don’t bother to wait on them. They are too busy laughing and booing at some of the scare actors whereas your heart is still palpitating at a ridiculous rate from the last scare.

Some of the actors were so gruesomely scary that you felt transported into your favourite slasher films whereas the others were just looming and ominous— more human. Humans are the scariest creatures after all. You fear your own kind in opposition to the unknown.

That’s why when the familiar skull skates over to you on his knees, you freeze this time. No fight or flight; just freeze. Your mouth gaping wide as his nose nearly brushes yours.

“Eddie.” His name is a breathless squeeze from your lungs as it leaves your mouth. You have to say his name aloud in order to ground your thundering heart. Were you excited or frightened? Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Whatever it was, the man stood in front of you wasn’t best pleased. His eyes narrow into irritated slits and his fingers toy with a piece of your hair— twirling it before yanking on it playfully.

Steve, Nancy, Robin and Jonathan all sprint past you in urgency. They screaming until their throats run raw as a deranged man with a faux chainsaw chases after them. Hot on their heels.

You and Eddie go unnoticed by them… and now…

Now you feel afraid.

“Y’know you aren’t supposed to address the actors personally, right?” He sneers through a tight jaw.

“He speaks.” You quip back sassily and Eddie huffs a distorted laugh.

“I’ve seen you around campus— even prettier up close. It’s a shame your attitude ruins that.” He circles you like a shark in water and you follow him. Twirling around makes you dizzy but Eddie’s chuckle makes your dizzier.

“Like a little lost lamb.” He coos, “Where are your cronies? Seems they’ve ditched.” His glove clad knuckle grazes your cheek and you flinch away from his soft touch. Taking a few steps back you widen the close distance between the two of you.

This causes Eddie to grin hugely; showing all of his teeth as he did.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re scared now?” He prowls toward you however you are quick to match every one of his steps. He takes a stride forward? You take a step back.

“You could run away if you wanted… but that’ll only entice me more. Didn’t they tell you? I love the chase.” His voice is a low animalistic growl and you couldn’t understand if this was Eddie or his character talking to you. Was this all an act or was he genuinely this menacing?

“I thought you actors weren’t supposed to get this close to the public…” You hunch your shoulders upward toward your ears as you cower away from his stalky frame and he stares through you; the gears in his head turning.

You shift on the balls of your feet uncomfortably and your skin blazes beneath his intense gaze.

“You’re blushing.” He says matter of factly and suddenly you feel the need to straighten your posture and try to get as far from him as possible.

“I am not.” The lie is pathetic as it meets the frosted air and Eddie smiles eerily.

“It’s the makeup, isn’t it? You like the makeup.” His head strains back on his neck as he lets out a loud laugh, “Fuck— that’s pathetic. You must be into some really weird shit.”

“I- that’s absurd!! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” You squeal and slink your arms around your torso. Partially because you were cold but also to be protective and assertive of yourself, “You don’t even know me—“ Eddie interjects, his finger tapping impatiently against his painted lips.

“Shhhh.” You feel the soft grain of his leather gloves as they tickle your skin and Eddie’s hands fully embrace your bare shoulders, “It’s okay— I like your costume too, I suppose.” He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, “I mean, it’s a bit outdated and boring but hey, you look good.” He flashes you a teasing wink that is nearly enough to make your lungs implode with lack of oxygen.

“Goodbye, Munson.” You swivel on your kitten heels and briskly find the frozen dirt path again. Your head involuntarily looks over your shoulder, trying to catch sight of Eddie one last time as you leave him behind but to your total disadvantage the metal head was no longer standing where you had left him.

He too, had taken off.

And unbeknownst to you, you had just pressed play on one of Eddie Munson’s all time favourite games; Cat and mouse.

-

It was getting later and later with every passing second and you couldn’t find your friends anywhere. You had last seen them run off whilst laughing and screaming in total horror but you hadn’t seen them since.

Had they actually ditched you and went home?

Once the thought infiltrated your psyche you contemplated on cutting the scare walk short and heading back to the funfair to search for them. However, going back meant that you had to go alone and there was something devilish about that.

To your left, through a thick canvas of sweetgum trees you can hear the owl again. Hooting softly— a sound that should calm your nerves but instead it tugs on them viciously. It’s more like an emergency siren warning you. A sign for you to run and to never look back.

A man made whistle slices through the chirping of the birds and it cuts at your skin like the edge of a blade. You look left and right, frantically dancing in circles as you try to determine where it’s coming from; but you are met with nothingness.

“Eddie, if that’s you then cut it out! This isn’t funny!” Your fingernails pinch at your skin as you begin to walk panicked in the opposite direction. Never paying attention to what’s in front of you, your gaze always trailing off to the side and behind you.

That’s when you see him— the skull peering at you from a dark line of trees in the distance. Your feet come to a staggering stop as you eye him. Was your mind playing tricks on you? Was Eddie really staring back at you or were you deluding yourself?

You swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you watch him emerge from the greenery. Before your brain can compute what your body is doing you are running; charging into the fullness of the forest.

Tree branches whip and rip at your skin, causing it to redden and sting. You wince but you continue soldiering on, your shoulders barge through sticks and nettles and thorns.

Your mind had convinced you that this was real. That you were being chased by a psycho.

“Hey— hey, stop!! It’s okay! Wait—“ Eddie is close behind you, crunching twigs beneath his boots but you are quicker than he is; more frightened and resilient to get as far from him as possible. For your own safety.

“Sweetheart! Stop!” You can hear him getting frustrated as he trudges through the cluttered landscape but you can see lights shining in front of you, just up ahead, and it causes you to force your legs to quicken. Desperate to reach there.

But just before you explode onto the funfair grounds your legs give way beneath you and you crash to the ground. The palms of your hands scrape against the jagged forest floor and your dress rips against a spiked log. You thought this shit only happened in the movies— but tonight you were proven wrong.

You look behind you and your eyes well up with tears of both pure adrenaline and fear at Eddie propelling himself toward you.

You bring up your hands around your head to protect yourself as you shrink back onto the floor, over the fact that your hair is full of pine needles and your knees are scraped and bleeding.

Eddie crouches by your side, a deep frown on his face and worry in his eyes.

“Hey, sweet girl, you’re okay…” Eddie bites off his leather gloves and throws them to the soft earth. He is gentle to pry your cold hands away from your muddied face and he hisses quietly at the temperature of your skin compared to his. He examines the palms of your hands tenderly, “Ouch… this must hurt. What were you thinking?”

Your foolishness almost causes Eddie to laugh, but after witnessing the genuine anxiety plaguing your features he decides not to.

“It was too real.” You blubber, letting out a dampened sob and Eddie’s heart pangs with guilt and sorrow, “I couldn’t find anyone and… and I saw you and I just couldn’t think of anything else…”

“I’m sorry, love. C’mere, let me help you up.” Eddie is crouched down, his knees bent as he braces himself in front of your shaking frame. He outstretches his hands toward you and you take them hesitantly.

Thanks to Eddie’s strength he pulls your weak body up to meet his with ease and he hold you against his chest. Breathing softly as he tries to calm your laboured and nervous breaths.

“I really am sorry… it’s just me, ‘Kay? I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.” He peppers comforting pecks into your hair and your nails claw at the back of his shirt, “It must’ve been pretty scary; being out there all alone with me.”

You nod, your mind finally calming at the sound of his lulling and gentle voice.

“I do like the makeup.” Your confession is meek and muffled against his chest, “I think there must be something wrong with me.” You laugh, managing to pull away his chest and look at him much more confidently now.

“Not at all,” Eddie grins, “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. Very normal— it might even be considered vanilla to some people out there.” Although you have removed yourself from the skull painted man’s chest, the closeness between the both of you remains the same.

The truth was; Eddie had always admired you. Your intelligence and your cunning. You were beautiful, which was the cherry on top of your infectiously bright personality. He had noticed you at the beginning of the academic year and he was too chicken to talk to you. You both were connected through Steve but Steve never really paid attention to Eddie’s longing and begging looks toward you.

But Steve didn’t have to say anything. Not anymore. Because you could see it for yourself. You could see beneath the intricate paint on his face that Eddie felt something for you. You weren’t sure what it was; lust, a crush or plain friendship but you could see it. Feel it.

“You must think I’m a total freak.”

“You have no idea who you’re talking to, sweetheart. I am the biggest freak to have ever lived.” Eddie lets out a giddy chuckle and his hands continue to rest lightly around your body. You welcome his lingering touch and his nearness. It felt familiar. Nice.

“We both look like weirdos standing out here in the dark.” Your eyes scan around the auburn horizon of tall trees and a soft smile rests on your smudged lipstick covered lips, “People are going to think we’ve been up to no good.”

Eddie smiles, his hand coming to stroke your cheek gently and tuck some of your rouge hair behind your ear, “With how windswept your hair is, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

You both stand there, the air is clouded with electrifying tension and you can’t think of anything else other than how badly you want him to kiss you.

“I wanna take you out… on a date.” His hands cup your face, “When I’m not this caricature. I’ll just be me and you will be you. You won’t have to run from me…” His cold nose brushes the tip of yours, “I won’t have to chase you.” You can smell mint and nicotine on his breath and you have never been more intoxicated by anything in your entire life.

“What’d ya say, sweet girl? Let me take you somewhere nice so I can kiss you properly at the end of the night?” There is a slight desperation to his voice and you bite your lip to suppress a wide smile.

“I’d like you to chase me, Eddie. Chase me with daisies and a boombox and your guitar. You won’t have to run after me for long…” You are dangerously close to him now, your breath quickening as you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. It takes every ounce of self control not to eat his entire mouth with yours, “Take me anywhere. As long as it’s with you.”

“I will.” He promises.

“And kiss me at the end of the night?” You are desperate yourself now, your eyes sparkling with moonlight as you look up into his shadowy hues.

“I will.” He strokes your hair so delicately; like you are the most precious thing he has ever handled, “I promise.”

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @manitskatrina @georgeweasleyslostearhq

[furuu]

Can we have a drabble about blob!sukuna getting jealous watching reader hang out with a male best friend? Thank you!

𐔌 . ⋮ You never meant to make him jealous. You didn’t think it was possible for something so small and stoic to even feel something so human. Yet, here he was—coiled in the corner of the room in his tiny blob form, watching you with a narrowed eye as you laughed with your best friend, completely unaware of the brewing storm just a few feet away.

“Seriously, I don’t know how you put up with me,” your friend chuckled, nudging you lightly as the two of you shared a casual lunch. His eyes sparkled with mischief, but to you, it was harmless. Pure friendship.

To Sukuna? Oh, it was anything but.

He’d been fine at first, letting you talk and joke around, mostly because he couldn’t care less about what humans did with their time. But as the minutes ticked by, as your laugh rang out louder and more frequently, Sukuna’s mood shifted. He squirmed in his spot, his small, round body almost vibrating with irritation.

Why was this guy making you laugh so much? Why were you leaning in so close to him? Sukuna could feel something prickling at his chest, unfamiliar and hot. He hated it. Was this jealousy? Him? Jealous over a pathetic human?

Ridiculous.

He couldn’t stand it. The sight of you with someone else, even if it was just platonic, made his blood boil in a way that was almost amusing—if it wasn’t so infuriating.

“Nuna? You okay over there?” you called out, noticing him sulking in the corner of the room, half-hidden behind the lamp. Your friend turned to glance at the blob, offering a little wave, to which Sukuna responded with nothing but a menacing growl.

“Yeah, I think he’s mad at me,” your friend joked, oblivious to the growing storm inside the tiny curse.

You gave Sukuna a concerned glance, but he only huffed, turning his back to you dramatically. A sulking blob with mysterious markings, as absurd as it seemed, was not a sight you saw every day. But you knew him well enough by now to recognize that something had set him off.

“Sorry, give me a sec,” you said to your friend, walking over to Sukuna. You crouched down to his level, your head tilted to the side. “What’s wrong, huh? You’ve been acting weird all afternoon.”

Sukuna refused to meet your gaze, but you could see the way his little blob form shook with barely restrained frustration. He didn’t speak, but his mood was written all over him—he was jealous. Over your friend. Over you not paying enough attention to him.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you realized what was happening.

“Are you jealous?” you teased, poking his round side gently.

“As if I’d be jealous over a weakling like him,” he spat, his voice low and venomous, but there was no real malice behind it. It was mostly just sulking.

You laughed softly, amused by how worked up he was over something so small. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right? He’s just a friend. You don’t have to worry.”

Sukuna huffed again, still refusing to look at you. “Hmph. As if I care. Just don’t expect me to save you when he inevitably gets himself killed.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the top of his squishy head. He stiffened, clearly caught off guard, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him try to maintain his tough exterior, despite the way he seemed to relax just a little.

“There, better?” you asked.

“…Maybe,” he muttered, finally glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “But I still don’t like him.”

“I know.” You patted his head gently before standing back up, turning to your friend with a grin. “Sorry about that.”

“No worries,” your friend replied, glancing at the little curse who now seemed far less hostile. “I think he’s just protective.”

“Something like that,” you said, laughing softly as you walked back to your seat.

Behind you, Sukuna watched with a narrowed eye, but this time, there was no growl. You had soothed the beast—for now. But he wasn’t going to forget this little encounter anytime soon .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy. 

The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left. 

Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect. 

Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention. 

Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.

Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone. 

You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize. 

One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp. 

Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable. 

The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair. 

Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance. 

The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years. 

Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found. 

You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"

At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.

" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"

You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.

"I could say the same about you, prince."

He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.

"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.

"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.

"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."

"You don't need--"

"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."

So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.

"I think I'm technically your stepmother."

"But you feel more like a friend."

You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.

"Then I am glad we are friends."

Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.

Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.

"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."

He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.

Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.

Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.

When would this torment end?

---

The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you. 

Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.

The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care. 

“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough. 

A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?

“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.” 

Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.

“It was a bit gauche.”

Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own. 

“I thought it looked nice.” 

His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash. 

“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.

Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror. 

“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser. 

“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to marry off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”

“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?” 

“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.

“To ensure an alliance with your family.”

“That is it? For no reason other than that.”

Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.

“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--

You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit. 

“I see.”

A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.

You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.

“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.” 

Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding. 

The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare

[n0tamused]

HSR characters as dragons

A/N: Hellloo, it is I once more with my dragon rambles. This time we're moving onto HSR a bit more. I do hope you all like how these turned out, and if you'd like any specific character turned into a dragon, please do lemme know in the comments or reblogs. Idk when I'll do the next part, but I do plan to continue this little series.

Content: Dr. Ratio, Luocha and Blade as dragons, x reader, gn reader, fluff, angst(Blade's part)

Dr Ratio:

-A lot don’t consider him a dragon, and they’d have a point since visually Dr. Ratio does lack in the stereotypical dragon aspects, and he himself would classify himself as a “gryphon” much more than a dragon. 

-Nonetheless, he makes the list of many dragon related magazines and novels and research papers

-Dr. Ratio is huge (doctor- you’re huge!)(not sorry) in this dragon form, he certainly does not lack in mass either, hiding quite the muscular form under all the feathers and fluff which he pays a lot of attention to

-One of the life goals he has set is that search for knowledge and more knowledge and to cure the illness called ignorance and stupidity. This life-long dedication has brought him to a lot of places, and a lot of forgotten where he truly hails from.

-Due to his size, he usually cannot fit in many places, and since he frequents cities, schools and so on, he is more often seen in his human form, handling his business accordingly and swiftly. He is calculated, and sometimes considers his beastly form something that represents 2 things. 2-The future version of what he wants to achieve; dragons and gryphons are often classified as hoarders of knowledge, being one of the wisest species that there is, and if he could achieve that peak form, he might have a better time fulfilling his goal. And 2-A representation of a more negative side of himself, driven more by beastly instincts. Quite the contradiction to the first point, which led Ratio to some insecurities about his form. He doesn’t want to risk being impulsive or acting on animalistic impulse, so he doesn’t take on the form that often at all.

-He doesn’t flaunt it either, but that doesn’t make it any less impressive of gorgeous to look at when he does take on the form of the giant bird-dragon

-Due to his build, he is quite well prepared should a fight arise - but as per his morals and protocol, he would much rather take the diplomatic route. Although if the intimidation factor would have any good use, he may arrive at the negotiation site in his dragon form, showing off his size and big claws before reverting to his human form when he lands.

-Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise, but his fur and fluff is so soft and he also smells really nice. (I could fall asleep in his fluff and never wake up)

-He is really cautious in his dragon form, stepping lightly and gingerly around anything that could be damaged or broken easily, specifically you. Speaking of that - for a dragon his size he really does step lightly. His footsteps don’t echo or tremble the ground like you may expect, and also similarly - he flies very silently. You don’t hear him approaching at all.

-He would let you pet him only after a lot of nagging, feeling a bit embarrassed mentally about the situation as he just sits there and then there’s you, a tiny human hopping around him all giddy and with stars in your eyes as you pet him and maybe even try to climb him. He’s grumpy, but he is flattered- especially since it is you bringing forth all this mirth and compliments for this beastly form, and also him as a human too

-He’s also ambidextrous, both in human and dragon form. 

-.... I'm tempted to say that in dragon form he can also use his hind legs as hands too due to this... like bro is skilled okay, knowledge gave him writing buffs lmao

Luocha:

-(pretty dragon pretty dragon-)

-A very kind looking dragon, gentle and smelling of spring and reminiscent of a bountiful harvest with his pale gold scales and flowing golden mane.

-It is unknown where exactly he came from, as he sort of just appeared one day and came to exist within the people’s memories

-Some of the jewelry decorating his mane and body were gifts from some youngsters he came across. He accepted these gifts and polished them before putting them on himself, wearing the gifts with pride, earning the trust of the locals smoothly and swiftly with his humble demeanor

-He is well versed in medicinal herbs and has offered his aid to many individuals, even fellow dragons. While he does frequent his dragon form a lot, as it also makes carrying wares easier, he is still human and both dragon and human need to eat. While he has offered free services to those in dire need, he does charge others, and although his prices are not high, the price is still there.

-Some claim he uses magic to grow his herbs, since everyone that got their wares of herbs from him claim that they instantly felt better, after a sniff or a first sip. 

-His front legs are a bit shorter, making his hips stand a bit higher when he is walking on all fours, but he is also able to walk on his hind legs, and his front legs are very flexible. He can harvest and plant his own herbs just fine in his dragon form. His heavy tail gives him a great balance and if need be he can run very fast. He is quite agile, whether it be on 2 or 4 feet and, despite the gentle nature, can fight.

-You can often catch him laying down in some sun-kissed spot near the city, surrounded by kids after his business hours, all kids admiring his form; playing with his mane or claws or scarves on his body, one kid is braiding little braids on one side, and there’s a kid that somehow  climbed their way up onto his forehead, holding onto his bangs for dear life. Luocha lays his head down, huffing as the kids exhaust themselves jumping and playing. Although if the sun is setting he doesn’t hold back on telling them to go home or telling them some ghost tale to scare them back into their parent’s arms. 

-He does love picking you up too if he is feeling cheeky, setting you on his back or his head as he walks back to your shared residence in that place.

A:n: Luocha is one of my favorite designs that I’ve done so far, look at him auhfoisfahofsg

Blade:

-Once a young, moon-kissed and pale dragon was now a shell of his former self, with only small patches of pale fluff standing out as a faint reminder of what he once was.

-His illness made spiky protrusions grow from his underbelly and it ruined his maw as well. However formidable it all made him, dark and scary, he was in constant pain.

-He is rarely ever seen, and ever since the ‘incident’ he has become a ghost tale to scare the kids with, a warning to any other long-life species as to what may happen if they follow down his route and what can happen if they're struck with the same illness as him

-Blade avoids any reflective surfaces in which he may look at himself, as that can sometimes make his mara flare up. He often spends his time in solitude, be it doing missions or spending his time in forgetfulness. Forgetting has become a hobby now, staring at the dark walls of some cave he found as he slowly realizes his memories are shrinking. It's as if all his puzzle pieces are being taken away from him, thrown away or hidden from his clutches.

-Blade frequently takes the form of the dragon, the pain seems more manageable when he is huge and terrifying. A lot of people that catch a glimpse of him also stay far far away, and unless they're the object of his mission - he won't go after them either. The sight of him alone is terrifying. 

-Big curled horns that are dark gray like the dark side of the moon, and if you look close enough there's small shimmers in the shadow clad corners of his scales and horns. Up close he is…pretty in his own right, his subconscious struggling to keep the remaining pieces of his past intact through physical attributes.

-His long flowing mane is soft and well kept, even if Blade doesn't particularly pay much attention to it, or the other fluff spots on his body. 

-He doesn't know where the jewelry in his hair came from, but there's something about it that forbids him from removing it. 

-The red sash around him was put there by Kafka and you, and if often maintained by you two. And there's something intimate about tying the bow at his back or putting the big golden clips into his fur. It's the trust he puts into you, and while it may seem like such a mundane action like helping someone button up their shirt, it means a lot more when Blade is in question, someone who doesn't let anyone else touch him or go near him.

-I think it is safe to say that this bad boy can fight. And fight he does. His mara has hardened his teeth further, and if any fall out during a scuffle, another one will take its place soon after. Although he is a bit long, he is quite strong. The only disadvantage he has is the fact that he is flightless. His species might as well fall into some branch of a drake. He can breathe fire though, and that ability has served him before in making weapons - these days though he doesn't use it much. He has teeth and claws, and that's enough. 

-During more easy days, he does like having you around, when his mara is silent and not dragging him under, your presence is comforting. He'll just lay down near you and soak in your presence. He will scoff or huff if you decide to shuffle closer, but he will most likely give in in times like these. Touch him, run your fingers through his fur, the fluff and the mane, he'll close his eyes and sigh. 

Size chart:

-Listen, I had a hard time trying to figure out sizes for them since they'd almost the same, but in the end I settled with this.

-Dr Ratio > Luocha > Blade

-Blade is huge but he is more long lol, and if it came to a hypothetical fight with either of the other two, Blade is winning no argument there, unless they yank him into the skies and slam him down idk

-There is a little difference in size between them tbh

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[zombii-hoe]

Yandere M! Doll x Reader

Yan doll who you've had since you were young. You bought him at a yard sale for less than a dollar and he was pretty beat up, but with your love and care, you were able to bring back some life into his mismatched button eyes.

Yan doll grew up with you, watching your ups and own in life, what your dreams were, what made you angry, what made you sad; what made you, you.

Everything changed when you became an adult. You've moved out of your parents' home and rented an apartment for yourself. He was so proud of you for become so independent! And he was especially ecstatic when you decided to bring him with you! His last owner... wasn't exactly thrilled of him to even consider bringing him with them.

Yan doll who hated everybody you bring to your home, it doesn't matter if you claim they're your friends, he should be the one you should pay attention to.

Why should you give your attention to these nobodies when he's so soft and you could spend the day with him in bed?

Yan doll who desperately made a wish to become human and experience things with you, to smell you, to touch you, to feel you.

He wanted you.

One day, his wish came true, and he became a real living man! But oh, poor you! Yan doll accidentally scared you with his naked self on your bed when you waltzed into your room.

Yan doll who immediately scoops you into a tight hug, not caring of your constant screaming and poor attempts of shoving him off. He's your doll! Aren't you happy to finally hug his fleshly human body?

Once the shock was over, you gave up on trying to understand how the doll you've had for years suddenly turned into a living breathing human. Looks like you have a roommate now.

The only problem is, yan doll wants to know everything you're doing. 'Hey, [Name], who are you texting? Oh, you're going out later? With whom? Where? And what time? ...Don't give me excuses, just tell me, I'm not going to repeat myself.'

In a short time of living with your favorite doll, it soon becomes suffocating; you can't have any alone time without yan doll peeking through your door. He's always watching.

"Can we cuddle to sleep, [Name]? I just want to be close to you~!"

Want more of this? Buy me a ko-fi! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[unluckilyimnot]

Hiii i love ur work so i wanted to request smth 🫶

Them with a s/o who is very short lol (like 5'0")

I would appreciate it if you could do this with rin, sae, yoichi and kaiser!!

Have a good day 🩷

Short s/o – rin, sae, yoichi, kaiser, hiori

m.list | rules

note: hiii thank you sm for your request <3 that’s basically my height so I know very much what it’s like

Rin

he doesn’t pay much attention at first, he’s not with you because of your height

but as time goes, he can get used to rest his head on top of yours

also pass his arm around your shoulders to bring him to him if necessary – he’s always kind of shy when your head hit his chest

loves it a lot when you sit between his legs to watch a movie because he can have you close and never worry about not seeing it well

you’ll only get confession about him liking it when it’s really late, sleep is already heavy on his eyes and he pulls you closer

you feel minuscule against his body and he’ll confess how down bad he is for you because you’re so small and cute, it pains him

never mention it tho, he’ll get sulky

Sae

acts normal about it but always hold your hand in the crowd because he’s scared to lose you

also scared to lose you in huge store so he just tag along – if you wear one particular piece that is colorful he’ll look for that instead

he once scold you because he lost you, but not before holding you close or kissing your forehead after checking you were alright

your forehead is were he kiss you the most in fact ‘cause it’s so easy access, it’s asking for it

hold you close to him when you sleep because, 1 he has to keep you warm, and 2 you’re so small he feels like he had to make sure nothing happens to you

deep down he’s down bad for it but doesn’t show it much and acts like he doesn’t care

he still put stuff on the top shelf sometimes for you to ask him for help

he got tricked a few times in fact because you just got on the furniture to get it yourself

his beige flag is that he manhandle you when you annoy him on purpose

Isagi

he’s the cutest ever I know that for sure

he’s afraid to offend you at first I think but he’s honest and tell you very quickly how cute you are, being so small

it never really stopped after that, even before you started dating he kept on telling you that you were cute

same as rin, he loooves to lay his head on top of yours

he bend to look at things with you but in a respectful, cute, head over heels for you way

holds you all the time when you’re home with him

hold him for behind, nuzzle your nose between his shoulders and he’s on his knees crying about how cute you are

fake crying about it sometimes (my gf does that)

he knows that not your whole personality but damn that’s still very cool to him to have a small s/o

Kaiser

he rest his arms on your head or shoulder to bother you all the time tbh

he’s annoying for sure but at the same time he’s probably whipped for you bc you’re so SMALL

he can grab you all the time so easily

the way you hit on his chest at best and your head rest on his arms when you’re tired and need to recharge

he loves to hold you to his chest in general

grab your chin up to kiss you or force you to go on tip toes to be able to kiss him

but also tells everyone you’re the cutest human being

he can’t help but melt if you pull his shirt or sleeve to kiss his cheeks or lips

you’ll catch him blush more than you might expected

he’s the type to tell you that you’re cute to tease you and see you blush

Hiori

he has a whole album on his phone dedicated to pictures you looks small, you know like those type of pictures for kpop idol

when you’re laying on a bed, rolled into a ball or if you’re standing a certain way and he founds you so cute

he can’t help but giggle every times and snap a picture

you’re totally aware of it the second he laugh that way and you ended up whining at him

probably the less shy after kaiser to tell you that he finds you cute

he wants to hold you close all the time I think, he’s in love with how small you feel against him

lays his head on your shoulder if he catches someone staring at you or if they’re flirting with you

but also does this to simply check what you’re looking at on your phone or read before your shoulder with you

I hope you liked it !

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter Two - An Understanding

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Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

The captain looks at you for a long moment, dark blue eyes wide with surprise as he takes you in. You have to admit that he’s handsome, dark brown hair and well-groomed facial hair (muttonchops, no less) flecked with silver, and a nice nose that skews to the large side. It gives him a friendly, approachable demeanour, despite the weight of his stare. His heavy attention shifts from you to the other three, and his expression turns serious. “Lads,” he says, his voice a rumble that you can feel through your own body. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Weeeel. It might be,” Johnny says apprehensively. “But I did my research, sir. She’ll be perfect for ye, ye’ll see.”

“She’s a good girl,” Ghost adds. “Sweet as can be. Won’t be any trouble for you.”

“Already moved her in and everything.” Gaz gestures around the room, looking rather too proud of their work.

The captain nods slowly, taking in the new additions to the space. “So you did. And did this pretty little thing agree to having her life upended, or did you lads just decide for her?” His arms shift around you, and you feel almost protected, oddly enough, even though by the size of him, he’s just as dangerous as the others. Probably even more dangerous, the way they defer to him, standing in a line like cadets, eager for his approval.

“Not… Not exactly,” Gaz admits. “I mean, we didn’t ask. But this’ll be better for her. She was living in a real rat hole before. Tiny little apartment in a shite neighbourhood. Was only a matter of time before something bad happened. We’re just looking out for her.”

Johnny shuffles his feet. “Dealt with a few neds while I was doin’ reconnaissance, even. Poor lass coulda been in real trouble if I hadna been there. Bawbag employers would ask her to stay past the last bus to watch the bairns an’ no’ even offer her a ride or ta pay fer a cab.”

“It wasn’t that far a walk,” you protest, glaring at Johnny. As if it’s any of his business. “And they did offer to drive me, I just wasn’t— It doesn’t matter! You had no right—”

The captain shushes you, and your words wither on your tongue, your cheeks turning hot under his stern blue gaze. He cups your jaw and turns your head to face him again, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you and I will talk in a moment. Soap’s right about that not bein’ safe, and you know it.”

Your stomach flutters nervously. He gives you a little smile, and his crow’s feet deepen, the lines fanning out further. There’s a moment where you’re tempted to smile back, but his legs shift under you, and you wince sympathetically instead. “Sorry, I should get off of you,” you say quickly. “I’m heavy.”

“I won’t stop you if you’d like to sit somewhere else,” he says, that cheeky smile deepening more. "But you’re not heavy, and I'd like it if you stayed put."

"Told ye he'd like her," Johnny whispers, loud enough that it shatters the isolated pocket of reality that, for a moment, housed only you and the captain. "Hasna even introduced himself an' he's flirtin' like mad."

"Soap!" Gaz hisses back. "Shut up."

Ghost scruffs them both. "Let's finish getting dinner on. Give 'em a minute to talk."

Johnny grins at you and gives you two thumbs up as he circles around to the kitchen, as if you’d actually been a willing participant in all of this.

"I'm John, by the way," the captain says, calling your attention back to him. He drops his hand and settles it on your knee, his fingers curling around the joint. "You alright, doll?"

A loaded question. "Well. Not really."

"You're keepin' it together real nicely, all considered. Wouldn't blame you if you were hissin' and scratching."

"I'm not much of a fighter," you admit. "And even if I was, I don't think it would do me much good."

John chuckles, squeezing your knee lightly. He's gentle, but there's power in those hands, the kind that comes from years of hard work. There's scars all over it, from his the tips of his calloused fingers up to the leather band of his watch, etched in evidence of violence. If there are scars further up his arms, their hidden by the buffalo plaid flannel. "No, it probably wouldn't."

"Are you going to let me go home?" you ask.

He sighs. "The thing is, doll, the boys have put me in an awkward spot here. If I let you go on home, you're going to get them in trouble, and I don't want to see that happen."

"I promise, I won't say anything, I just--"

He shushes you again, and you shut your mouth, biting your lip. "Let me finish, sweetheart. You're being so good right now because you're scared. But that's not gonna last, is it? And worse, it sounds like you don't really have much to go back to."

"I'll find a new job. I always do."

"With another family who doesn't appreciate the work you put in? That doesn't make you feel safe?" His fingertips toy with the edge of your skirt absently, but his eyes are on your face, studying your reaction with rapt attention. This is how a rabbit must feel, pinned under the stare of a grizzly bear, frozen in place and hoping that no claws come down on top of it. "I can read between the lines, doll. That man you were workin' for made you feel so uncomfortable that you'd rather walk through a bad neighbourhood at night than get into a car with him alone."

You can't dispute it, although you're surprised he can glean so much information from half an outburst. "It wasn't like that-- He wasn't that bad."

John hums. "You're tellin' me you've had worse?"

A dozen jobs with a dozen managers or coworkers that took your silence as permission to stand too close, or put their hands on you flash across your mind. Mr. Kinsey was just the latest of many. You know that the thought is displayed on your face, from the way his eyebrows pinch together just slightly, not angrily, but concerned. You try to deflect with a little laugh. "Oh, well. I suppose I have. But hasn't everyone?"

"Soap had a bad lieutenant once and locked the man in his own car when he was just a private. Just because you have a bad boss doesn't mean you have to take it." He looks at you so seriously as he speaks, his fingers dancing distracting circles against the top of your knee, rough fingertips catching on the nylons just slightly. The heat from the arm curled around your waist bleeds through the fabric of your dress, his hand twitching slightly, like all he wants to do is take a handful of soft flesh. “You should speak up when you’re not comfortable, doll. You just need some practice standin’ up for yourself, don’t you?”

If a statement could have teeth, this one would, and you’re not sure if agreeing or disagreeing will have him closing his jaws around you. He’s probably right, you do need to do a better job of standing up for yourself. But you’re certain that he doesn’t want you to start by standing up to him, or his three attack dogs either. “I’ll work on it,” you say meekly. You test his commitment to the statement by gently picking his hand off of your knee, although there’s nowhere to really put it either.

“We’ll work on it,” he agrees, lacing your fingers together. When he rests your now-entwined hands, it’s a little further up your thigh. “You want a drink, darlin’?”

“Oh, um, no thank you.” You wouldn’t mind another tea, but you don’t think that’s what you’re being offered.

The scrutiny he puts you under is intense, like he’s determined to figure out what every microscopic shift in your expression might mean. “You sure, doll? You gotta ask if you want somethin’, or you won’t get it.”

“I would like a tea. But I can make it, I don’t want to be trouble.”

“Nonsense. Lads?” he tips his head back slightly.

“On it, sir,” Gaz replies cheerfully.

Ghost leans over the back of the couch to hand John a tumbler. Whiskey or scotch, by the sharp smell that hits you. John pulls his hand away from yours to accept the glass. “Thank you, Simon,” he says pleasantly. "Good lad."

“S’your party, sir. An’ you’re busy, ain’t you?” Ghost rests his hands on the back of the couch and studies the pair of you, dark eyes gleaming with pride. The man has the demeanour of a cat that’s brought in a helpless little bunny to his master, while it’s still alive and struggling.

“Gettin’ to know our pretty guest.” John smiles at you over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Isn’t she just?”

“Could I, um, sit over there?” you ask, glancing at the chair. Somehow John had managed to distract you from the idea of moving for a while, but you were still eager to get a little space from him, especially with Ghost looming over both of you.

“Of course, sweetheart,” John’s arm loosens, and you quickly get up and move to the chair.

You almost feel cold, without the heat that radiates off of his body. His attention feels weightier now too, or maybe it’s just that his body isn’t shielding the stares from Johnny, Gaz and Ghost, and you’re subjected to all four of them watching you, like you’re either fascinating or delicious (or both). You cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself as much as possible, eyes wide.

"Here's yer tea, hen. And may I just say, ye've go' a fantastic rack from this angle." Johnny hands you the mug and sits on the arm of the chair, leaning over you. "Weel. Ye've go' a nice rack from any angle. Nice arse too. Captain's lucky I like him so much, or I'd've gone for you myself."

You breathe in steam, wrinkling your nose slightly. It doesn't smell quite right. "Did you put something in this?"

"Aye. Finger of whiskey. Ye look all stiff and peaky still. Need a pick me up, don't ya?"

You look at him reproachfully. He sighs and plucks the tea from your hands and takes a big sip. "There's nothin' else in there, if that's what yer askin', ye suspicious wee daftie. A little whiskey ne'er hurt no one." He hands the mug back to you, smile crooked, doing his best to be charming, but he's too intense, too fervent, to be anything but unsettling.

“Got Johnny checkin’ everythin’ for poison, do you?” Ghost asks, chuckling. “Can’t say I blame you.” He nudges John with the back of his hand. “She’s smart, worth keepin’ an eye on that. Know’s ‘ow to ‘old ‘er tongue, but she’s listenin’ and payin’ attention.”

“Of course she is! Wouldna choose a lass withoot a brain in her head. Wouldna be worth the captain’s time. Weel, maybe worth a wee bit of time.” He winks down at you. “But no’ wife material, ye ken. Chose her because she’s delightful, no’ just ‘cause she’s bonnie.”

The few times you’d spoken to Johnny before you’d thought that he was so nice. Laughing and joking with you in the pick up line while you waited for the children you were respectively responsible, greeting his niece and nephew with big smiles. And Finn and Rory were always so excited to see him, you’d chalked him up as harmless. Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention then, too focused on the Kinsey kids and your job, maybe. You hadn’t noticed that he was appraising you like a piece of livestock, judging your value like you’d been put up to auction.

The whisky-fortified tea is a bit on the strong side, but you take a few sips anyway. Getting drunk would be unwise, but you’re so tense that your whole body is starting to ache, and that’s not doing you any good either.

“Dinner’s ready,” Gaz announces, untying his kiss the cook apron and setting it on the counter. “Hope you’re hungry. Soap made a cake earlier too.”

John raises an eyebrow. “You can bake?” he asks, surprised.

“Aye, picked it up while I was gettin’ rehabbed for the big fuck-off hole in my head,” he replies airily. “Was goin’ mental putterin’ around Kirsty’s waitin’ for the bairns to get out of school, so Ah picked it up. Isnae so hard. Just chemistry, aye?”

“He did make a big mess,” Gaz says. “Had to wash about fifty dishes before I could get started on dinner.”

“Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic,” Johnny complains. “See if I bake ye a cake for yer birthday, Garrick. Ye’ll be sorry then.”

“Oh no, how will I survive?” Gaz clutches his chest like he’s deeply wounded by the statement, laughing. “I have two mums, I’m still pretty much guaranteed a cake.”

“Always braggin’ abou’ that. Thinks he’s more evolved than the rest of us just because his da’s a woman.” He hovers next to you as you get up, and sticks close as you walk over to the table. You don’t choose a seat, in case there’s an order to things you’re not aware of.

“Pretty sure the whole point is that he dun’t ‘ave a dad,” Ghost says. “Now sit down, mutt. Yer not sittin’ next to the bird. You’re botherin’ ‘er.” He points at a chair, and Johnny sighs and slinks into it.

“Here, sweetheart,” John says, putting his big hand on your back to guide you the last few steps and directing you to a seat. He slides the chair in for you too, masquerading as a gentleman, and sits next to you.

Gaz settles in on your other side, all smiles. “Feeling better?”

They keep asking you how you are, as if the answer is going to change. Like all you need to adjust to the reality of being kidnapped and relocated to some stranger’s house in the country is a little time. Like you’re going to be just fine, if you just get a few more minutes to adjust. “Not really.”

"Ah, don't worry, doll. Captain's gonna be real good to you. You'll get there soon enough. Probably'll feel better once you've had a proper meal."

At least they don't try to make you talk much at the table. They fall into easy conversation between them, and let you eat roasted chicken and potatoes and carrots with some kind of sweet and mildly spicy glaze. Ghost pulls the mask down to eat, so you're able to watch when he goes slightly pink from what barely qualifies as spice. Gaz gives you a little side-long glance, and you almost laugh. There's some solidarity to be had, even in a situation like this one, something funny about how a little more spice could probably straight up kill the other three men at the table. Maybe that would be the key to you freedom: Murdering John by feeding him something full of chilies.

Admittedly, you do feel begrudgingly more charitable towards them after eating. You could maybe blame it on the tea too, which, against your better judgment, you do end up finishing.

John stops you from helping clean up when you stand automatically and try to stack Gaz's empty plate with your own. "No, sweetheart. C’mere." He guides you to the door and out into the chilly evening air. You wish that Ghost had let you put on a sweater over your summery dress, but he had been so keen to show you off, and you’d been too scared to insist. You curl your arms around yourself for warmth, and keep quiet, watching as John trims and lights a cigar, looking out into the darkness beyond the porch.

Fear has morphed from pressing terror to something that gnaws at you from the pit of your stomach. You could try to run for it, but you’d probably roll your ankle wearing the stupid red heels, and you have no real idea where you are, or how far you are from someone who could help you. Outrunning John would be a feat anyway. He’s older than you, but he’s in better shape, nearly perfect shape, broad and strong, that long military career not yet forgotten.

There’s a bench by the door, so you sit down to take the heels off. You’re not used to wearing them, it’s so rare that you have anywhere to go that calls for spicier footwear than your comfortable, worn in trainers.

“Here.” John slides his flannel shirt off and drapes it over your shoulders, and kneels down in front of you, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulling your heels off for you. Smoke curls around you for a moment, thin and blue in the scant light, before a breeze carries it away. He leans on his one leg and studies you, but he doesn’t stand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You put your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, humming noncommittally. You know you’re pretty enough, by most standards, but you feel like his interest— And the interest of the other three— is disproportionate, too intense.

“I’d like you to stay a while, doll,” he continues. “I won’t force you, I’m not that kind of man, but I’d have a hard time letting you go back to living paycheck to paycheck in a bad nieghbourhood, workin’ for creeps that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves. You deserve better than that.” It’s as though he doesn’t even hear his own words though, or imagines himself better, because he absently runs his hands over your calf, squeezing the tense muscle gently.

“I have to work,” you protest, biting back a moan. You didn’t need to encourage him, even if you weren’t quite brave enough (or willing) to stop him. “I have student loans, and I send money to my lola in Vigan. I can’t afford to just disappear off the face of the earth.”

He nods thoughtfully. “How much?”

"Three hundred pounds a month to Lola. I know it might not seem like a lot, but it goes a lot further there."

"And the student loans?"

"Sixteen thousand. Not that much, I worked through my degree, and I inherited a bit of money from my parents. But I still have to--"

"I'll pay for both. You'll stay until you find a good job, and a safer apartment." He says it like it's a final edict, no room for argument.

You pull your leg out of his grip, tucking both further back under the bench. "No, John, I don't want to owe you either--"

"You won't. My boys kidnapped you and disrupted your whole life. I'd pay a lot more if it keeps you from going to the police over it. Least I can do is make sure you're better off when you do leave here, hm?"

You bite your lip. Starting over with a clean slate is tempting, but you're not sure you can trust John. He seems so earnest, blue eyes clear and guileless, but he can't be much better than the other three. Unless he was just holding their leashes tight as their captain, and had to let them loose when he retired.

"Can I think about it?" you ask.

"Of course." He puts his hand on your knee to steady himself as he leans across to ash the cigar in the ashtray that sits on a little table next to the bench. "But I think you'll say yes. You're a smart girl, hm?"

You're tempted to say no, just to test weather or not he's being honest about not forcing you to stay, but there's a niggling worry in the back of your mind that the veneer of civility will evaporate if you push him on it. He's nice enough now. And maybe that niceness isn't a show, maybe he has no darker side, maybe it's all just paranoia on your part. Perhaps the worst thing about him is his predilection to protect his "boys", even though all three are clearly insane.

Military is like that, isn’t it? The whole brotherhood thing? Maybe fighting for your life beside someone changes how you see them forever.

“How long did you all serve together?” you ask. “Johnny mentioned that he was SAS before— I asked about the scar once.” You tap the side of your head, the same spot where Johnny has a nasty bullet scar.

“Long time. Hand-picked Gaz and Soap for my taskforce about ten years back. Simon and I served together longer. He’s a captain now, even if the lads still call him LT. They’re both lieutenants, and Gaz’ll be a captain himself before long. Probably would’ve been already if he’d transferred out of the 141.” He gets up with a grunt and settles onto the bench beside you. “Don’t think Simon’s long for it. He’s only still in because he wants to keep an eye on Soap. Man’s a bloody romantic. Live together or die together.”

“I didn’t realize that they were together at all.”

“The way Soap’s been droolin’ all over you, I’m not surprised.” He puffs on his cigar thoughtfully. “But Simon’s just like that, as far as I can tell. The world’s divided into three categories. Enemies, his people, and everyone else. Enemies ‘n’ everyone else can’t touch what’s his, but he’s never given a damn about Soap sleepin’ with Gaz, or me.”

“I’m not his people.”

John looks at you and shakes his head. “Course you are, doll. You’re one of our people now. They might’ve gotten a bit overzealous, bringing you here the way they did, but those lads would do anything you asked of ‘em now.”

A bit overzealous. You laugh, but the sound comes out bitter.

"Relax, doll. I know you're determined to hate them, but they're good lads. Their hearts are in the right place." He pets a big hand over your head and rests it on the back of your neck, warmth seeping into your bones, relieving some of the ache from all the tension of the day. John has a way of soothing that terrified little animal in your chest that would otherwise threaten to kick it’s way free from your ribs and flee into the dark trees. “Lookin’ out for me, in their own way. Lookin’ out for you too. If your situation was a better one, they wouldn’t’ve plucked you out of it like that.”

There’s hope in his eyes when you look up at him, hope that you’ll forgive and forget, that you’ll come around to some kind of understanding in time. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot behind your ear, sending an awful, irrefutable thrill through you.

You’re worried that he might be right.

My favourite John Price to write is the sneakiest, most charming, manipulative bastard on the planet. I definitely take a lot of inspiration from 391780 's portrayal of him. The Rear Window and Neighborly have been forefront in my mind while working on this (Largely because I think my John would have taken a similar approach if the lads hadn't jumped the gun. The Rear Window is dark, so be warned! Early writes delicious dark fics, but that may not be everyone's cup of tea, so mind the tags.)

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[suempu]

hiiii could you write some nsfw headcanons for chilchuck with a reader who’s insecure about their body?

gn + implied human! reader + kinda dominant chilly chuckles

<3

oh my, that man is not good with emotions. one of his flaws is that he’s kind of bad at dealing with them since they leave him in a vulnerable state. it was no secret that he’s emotionally constipated, his past wife left him because of that.

but ever since you came along, chilchuck has been slowly improving, not wanting a repeat of what happened. he’s acknowledged that by loving someone, he needs to be able to be open with his feelings and become mindful of yours.

once you work up the courage to tell him, he visibly stiffens up. chilchuck is silent for a few seconds, he really wasn’t expecting this while he was kissing you up.

he spends a few moments awkwardly fiddling with the buttons of his half done shirt as he thinks of the right words to say.

“…. i… don’t really care about what you look like.”

okay. he could’ve worded that better.

“i-i mean! i enjoy being with you… for who you are.”

chilchuck’s biting his lip, looking at you hesitantly as he reaches a hand out to you. he’s looking anxious before you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

he yelps as he’s tucked into your chest, letting out a sigh of relief that you don’t seem upset. you pull away and look down at him with a smile.

“you suck at this.”

“i know.” he sends you a grin.

placing one hand around you, he pushes you gently to sit on the bed. he stands in front of you and holds your face, nuzzling into your nose which brings a laugh out of you.

“i know i’m bad at… this kind of stuff but i meant what i said.” he looks at you seriously, big ears twitching as hair strands falls to his face, rough and messy after your heated lip-lock earlier.

“i’m nothing but an old, brooding man. i love the way you make me feel and i want… you to l-love how i make you feel…. regardless of what you look like.”

he can see how you’re biting back a snicker as he tries to get his act together. chilchuck can feel his face getting hotter as he hears your bubbling laughter. but he’s glad you’re less nervous as before.

“y-you think this is real funny, do ya?” he yells out.

he’s kinda grumpy after all that, feeling a bit embarrassed that you laughed at him. after a few kisses smothered on to his face, he slowly gets back into the mood, making sure to pay extra attention to your reactions.

if you ever cover yourself up, he will give you a peck while slowly taking your hands off and whispering reassuring phrases.

he will kiss down your body as he keeps his eyes on you, forcing you to watch him. when he finds out which part makes you insecure the most, chilchuck will leave open mouthed kisses and suck a hickey on it.

with his enhanced hearing and senses, your quiet whimpers and gasps gets him going as he touches and feels you thoroughly with his fingers.

since this is your first time being intimate together as a couple, he makes sure to treat you softly and gently. he’s attentive to the spots that make you moan out the most, notices how you grip the sheets harder when he licks and sucks on a certain area. all of them noted in his head so he can figure out what else you’ll like.

chilchuck groans breathily, he’s kind of ashamed to lose control of himself, thinking it’d only embarrass himself.

“am i not making you feel good..?”

“where did this come from?”

“you don’t… make as much noises as i do. i’m wondering if i’m not doing enough.”

once he hears your reason, he immediately rushes to assure you. though still a bit hesitant, he’ll try to let go more the next time you’ll get intimate.

can i just say he’s skilled at giving oral. his hands and fingers can take you to god and back once he finally finds out what specific things you like. he loves being all in there, loves your smell, your sounds, your fluids.

he doesn’t say it out loud though. which makes you wonder why he keeps asking if you could fuck his face whenever you two do it.

“is this some sort of kink of yours?”

“just say yes or no!”

after one round, he can get pretty spent. but if you’re still needy, he can muster some energy to make love to you slowly.

oh, and he lives for lazy morning sex. sometimes you’ll wake up to him kissing down your shoulder and arm, whispering small ‘wake up’s to your buzzing ears.

aftercare with him is… well, lazy too. he’ll drop to your side, breathless as he stares up at the ceiling. after a few moments he’ll sit up and look down at you on the bed, whispering sweet praises as he holds your face.

he’ll smoke for a bit, facing away from you. he doesn’t want you to cough from the smoke after all.

drags you to the bathroom after a few moments. he hates being sweaty and you’ll have to kill him before you force him to snuggle right after sex.

chilchuck just doesn’t like feeling gross, he’d want to be clean as soon as possible. he will fuss over you during bathing. divorced father of three but with the way he’s acting makes him look like a mother.

he will scrub you down to the bone but will be less aggressive if you tell him it makes you uncomfortable.

“put your clothes in the basket, dry your hair, make sure you brush your teeth properly.”

“i always do! follow your own advice, you alcoholic.”

“i will drown you in this tub.”

what a nice and loving man, am i right

after bath time, he’ll lay on his side with nothing on but some underwear. his arm is around your torso as you fall asleep while he watches you with a soft smile, fingers tracing soft shapes on to your skin.

8/10 for being emotionally constipated but an A+ for trying. (i’m kidding he’s great)

[pervcoded]

bloodhound starring yuuji itadori.

content warning: no pronouns used, but reader is implied to be dfab.

reader is dealing with their period/pms.

roughhousing/fighting (they are training), scent kink, yuuji and reader are 18+, sukuna is here too yuuji. funky (very slight) mind-control/subtle influence aspects. perverted thoughts. reader is annoyed by everything. no penetration/sex. yuuji smells you ovulating lmao? begging (from yuuji). dry humping. idk i was just writing shit and the plot got outta hand.

Yuuji’s changed since Sukuna came along.

Not something you acknowledged at first - of course, it would be within reason to anticipate some degree of pushback from the curse. A never before seen bond between human and … less-than-benevolent spirit was sure to have some stubborn aftereffects. It seems that little whisper of a king took care to extend his influence more permanently than you’d appreciate, frankly.

Yuuji’s senses have been unnaturally keen as of late. Not the ‘notice your new haircut’ kind of attentive - that natural knowledge that comes with closeness - but,

eerily observant. Sukuna’s cohabitation of Yuuji’s body seemed to have bolstered his olfactory systems in bizarre ways. Or maybe the curse had just gotten attached to the scent of your flesh.

Like when he noticed when you ran out of lavender shampoo, you started using citrus. Or when he shouted in front of ‘Gumi and Nobara about how you definitely changed your perfume. Weird shit. Mr. Paying-Too-Much-Attention just tried to brush it off.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear he was keeping tabs on you. He tried to be completely normal otherwise - even apologized about the perfume; though Megumi and Nobara ensure you never hear the end of it.

But he’s doing it again right now. In the lull of your training, he seems stunned for a moment; seemingly overtaken by the presence of something around him. When you ask ‘what?’, he responds with a question.

“Do you smell that?” He huffs the air like he’s starved for it, the genuine curiosity bouncing around in his eyes confounding more than it intrigued. His eyes are half-lid, dogged and low, like a bloodhound taking index of nearby quarries. He’s paused your flow, stopped your energy, and besides; “The only thing I can smell is you.” You scowl. You stand with your arms akimbo, lips subtly quirked in irritation. He looks gagged by that response, but keeps breathing deep; lids fluttering delicately to half-lids. 

 “Yuuji.” You go to cross your arms, glaring daggers. “Yuuji, c’mon, I need you to focus.” “Mmn." His nose wriggles; it's a little cute. "But it smells so good… You sure you didn’t bring food in here? I can’t focus with that- ah - smell.” He seems labored by it, but it’s not so strange for Yuuji to be incredibly dramatic about most things. “It smells like…mhn.” Failing to describe the scent, you rapidly find yourself disinterested in his little moment. But he’s insistent on having it.

He licks his lips til’ they shine under the fluorescent, fanged teeth poking from his upper lip as he makes a face. A brutal, not-quite-smile, then something else, reserved as he retained the barest hint of control. He looked feral, like a wolf twitching with pent up aggression, holding out for the fawn to tottle past.

You occasionally envied his inclination towards the eccentric- frankly freaky sometimes- but sadly, at present you lacked the patience. You’re not playing games this week, and definitely not today.

It feels like everything and everyone’s been pissing you off for like half the week. Nobody seems to be on the right timing - no, not even Nobara, who seems more to your speed even when you’re in a bad mood with the rest of them. Nothing happened (you think) to make you feel angry, this pent up, but you think the others have noticed and politely adjusted their behavior. Giving you more space during breaks, keeping conversations to polite banter and short chats, getting you snacks… 

Oh, now he’s starting to make you a little hungry. That’s what you think it is, that low simper in your belly as your vexation grows; tired of his antics. “Stop fucking around, man. I know this shit comes easy to you - or whatever - but I’m not letting you get me behind on training. Stand up.” The demand in your voice doesn’t seem to inspire motivation. Rather it just makes him annoyed, his brows now furrowed as he (bordering on obsessively) sniffs the air. Gets a whiff of something beautiful. Like blood pumping through veins, decadent, succulent, dripping, and raw. Rubs a bit of drool from his lips.

Sukuna’s been chittering in the time you weren’t. A faint locust buzz crescendos into airplanes flying overhead, a mantra tittering in the back of his head over and over again. 

It’s you. It’s you, It’s you, It’s you, It’s you.  Sukuna didn’t have to tell him that, really - he’s not that dumb - but forgive him for wanting to pretend like you’re not making him tent his sweatpants. He’s been smelling you all week - and after that argument with you and the gang on Tuesday, apparently nobody else noticed anything had changed. Granted, it’s not like he hates it; quite the contrary, actually… 

You smell too good. Like a forbidden delicacy; savory and not too sweet. Oh, if only he could get you on his tongue. The thought is as foreign as it is tantalizing. He’s quick to assume Sukuna has something to do with it - but when he’s still having those thoughts when Sukuna hasn’t spoken to him in days, he’d think it irresponsible to not take some accountability for it. He scowls to himself, glancing at you in his periphery as you practice your striking form.

(You dance through the air, the power in your thrust brought forth from the entirety of your body; each muscle, moving in perfect sync. The more you work yourself up - the stronger the scent of you gets. It’s like a pheromone, wafting irritatingly through the space, driving him fucking mad -)

“Your yearning is pathetic.” Yuuji’s mouth goes dry as Sukuna’s mouth splits open a space behind his ear; but you must not hear him - too busy slicing through nothing. “I’ve never understood playing with your food. If you’re strong enough to take the sorcerer - they’re yours to be had.” He reflexively goes to shut him up.

You’ve barely wanted to be near him all week. Or any of the gang, really. You’ve been acting differently, too. Quicker to anger and cutthroat, more territorial - less affectionate. You’re only training together because you pressed him for it, like you were dead set on showing him up. 

He thinks you’re doing fine. (Sukuna thinks it’s cute how hard you try).

You step too close and Yuuji’s head snaps to you on cue, and for a moment you think something’s wrong. He’s perched low down, searching you. Considering you, staring you up with that look. You recognize it - better suited to a battlefield and carnage - but it’s good to know he’s finally paying you attention. A full-minded, beady-eyed focus, as if you were a spirit in need of exorcism. He looks hungry for it.

You shuffle back reflexively, too wired to go down to some low-blow. “Oh? You ready to get back to it then?” You resume your offense, leaning into your stance as you watch Yuuji stagger to his legs almost drunkenly; and yet not taking his eyes off you. He balls his hands up into fists, feet shifting into position. “Yeah. I think m’ready. If you are.” His curtness is greatly appreciated, though you can’t help but quirk your brow at his change of pace. You squat lower, tighten your grip on your training weapon. 

You push in at the same time. The point of contact - his fist and your naginata - disappears in a  void of darkness. Tendrils of black jut out in all directions, and all you hear is the crrrr - ACK! of your wooden instrument;  split clean in two as the ‘sharp’ end goes flying and leaving you with the blunted shaft. He’s on top of you as soon as you recover, reaching forward with a quick jab you barely dodge.

The sweat runs off your forehead as you dart backwards, swiftly slamming the wooden handle down into his skull.  The naginata cracks into nothing. He is hardly winded. 

He reaches out for you and you dive to the side, throwing up your arm to shield your chest before Yuuji nearly caves it in.

“-shit!”

You’re gasping, nearly falling on your ass as the force of Yuuji’s kick knocks the air out of your lungs.

“- ah, fuck -”

There’s a feeling besides fear, there. A sudden shuddering in your limbs and a faintness in your head that makes you drop low to the ground, your legs wobbling ever so slightly, 

before they give, the blood rushing away from your head as a new pain blooms deep within your stomach. It joins the one in your chest, tormenting you. 

Yuuji’s on top of you when your vision returns from black (did you close your eyes? You hadn’t noticed), half concerned and half… well -

He’s got you pinned to the training mat below, weight audaciously pressing into your stomach as he plants himself firmly on top of you. There’s something hard down there, jabbing insistently into you that perplexes you for only a second; until his face tells you everything to know.

His gaze is hazy, like he’s coming off that high but not quite - got your arms pinned above your head even if he no longer needs to use that kind of force. His face is red, blushed from ear to ear, and your analysis is momentarily interrupted by his voice cutting through the silence. 

“Well, I won,” He huffs, rocking his hips a little. “Don’t I get a prize? Y’know - for winning?” He leans more to your level. You’re in no rush to buck him off - the pressure doesn’t feel that bad; actually.

"What?"

Your voice is breathy and incredulous when you fully come to.

“You want a fucking cookie or somethin’?” To your amusement, he nods excitedly. One of his hands leaves yours to slowly trail down your front. That focus still hadn’t lifted from him, his attention concentrated solely on the line he’s driving down your stomach.

“Yeah, something like that.” 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ JJK/BANNER ART by gege akutami

all content written by me @ciematis, is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.