#I feel like he would have still eventually defected

[artofcarmen]

I heard yall wanted a Volstrecker Caleb Widowgast, and I aim to please. ❤️‍🔥

[fatkish]

First time asking 🤭🤭 but I wanted to make a request for upper moon demon Kokushibo x hashira fem/reader headcanons with him as a lover (sfw and nsfw, if you’re comfortable writing it ofc��👈 (˶˃⤙˂˶)

Kokushibo x Hashira Fem Reader HC’s

SFW + NSFW

Kokushibo must have seen something in you, maybe it was your resolve or bravery to face him knowing that you’d most certainly die, or maybe it was your strength

Either way, whatever it was, congratulations, you’ve gotten his attention

Your relationship was definitely rough at the start

Perhaps you kept running into him during your patrols

Every time you came across him you’d have a short battle, maybe exchange some flirtatious words and then eventually he’d leave

No matter what, you kept coming back and so did he

Every night you’d stop him from eating people but you’d get hurt in the process

Eventually you just flat out asked him why he became a demon if he was a demon slayer

He then revealed to you the truth about the demon crest and what it would mean for those who awakened it

One night, you saw him and stood next to him, you asked him if he was ever lonely

Surprised by your disregard for the rules, you sat down beside him and laid back, looking up at the stars, completely ignoring the fact that he could kill you

When he mentioned that you were being foolish about letting your guard down, and that he could kill you, you simply replied with ‘and yet, you still haven’t’ and patted the grass besides you

Kokushibo decided to sit down next to you

You asked him again if he was ever lonely being a demon

He told you it had its moments

You asked if it was worth becoming a demon

He told you it was

You then sat up and looked him straight in the eye and told him, “I don’t think you’re evil. I don’t want to kill you, but I have to make sure that you don’t kill anyone, if you’re willing to not eat anyone, I’ll let you drink my blood whenever you’re hungry”

To say he was surprised by your sincerity was an understatement, he was shocked but didn’t show it much

That’s likely how your relationship came to be

Kokushibo started to develop feelings for you and you for him

He would stay at your estate (Kagaya already knows and has allowed it since he believes that you may yet change Kokushibo and that he will change his ways) during the day

At night you both would train, he’d teach you and you’d become stronger

One of the things Kokushibo loves is when you rake your nails and scratch his scalp. Running your fingers through his hair, gently combing his hair whilst scratching his scalp. He’ll lay his head in your lap while you do this

If you’re cold, he’ll let you snuggle up to him. He’ll sit down with a blanket around his shoulder, once you sit next to him, he’ll wrap his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer

He would go on patrols with you and watch you from a distance

When you both learned that Nezuko had conquered the sun, you decided that Kokushibo should get treatment from Tamayo so that he’d no longer be under Muzan’s control

When the final battle came, Muzan didn’t expect Kokushibo to defect and help in fighting him

You and Kokushibo were an immense help and you both managed to survive the final battle

After losing most of your friends and having awoken your own demon crest, Kokushibo proposed that you become a demon to which you agreed

You and Kokushibo built a house together, you both live together and you watched as your friends grew and passed away

You learned medicine and you and Kokushibo both are able to survive off of small amounts of blood alone

You both run a small nighttime clinic similar to what Tamayo did, you supply Yushiro with blood

Although you were saddened by the loss of your friends, Kokushibo stayed by your side as you grieved

As time went on, you and Kokushibo would both come to love the other more

Eventually as things settled, Kokushibo would become more bold

You still enjoy food so when you would cook, Kokushibo would come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you

During the day, you both would sleep

Eventually you both learned to gain energy from sleeping, and you both decided to then open a small dojo

Kokushibo enjoyed teaching the art of swordsmanship to young people

At night, sometimes you both didn’t do much sleeping

Kokushibo is a very passionate lover. He dovotes himself entirely to you and your pleasure

If you haven’t cum at least three times, then he believes he’s done something wrong

He’ll lay you down and run his hand all over your body, slowly caressing you and mapping out your body

His kisses are slow and deep, making sure to convey his vast love for you

He’ll use his fingers to explore your insides, curling and scissoring you, making your toes curl

He’s very methodical with his approach to sex, taking his time and making sure to feel everything

He’ll pinch and nip at your chest, taking his time to mark your chest with love bites, giving each breast and nipple, through attention

By the time he reaches your nethers, he’ll have already brought you to the edge and back at least twice

He’ll then spread your legs and begin to feast on you, using his tongue to explore every inch of you, slowly and steadily licking and sucking on every inch of your sensitive flesh

The way he eats you out makes you see stars, he’ll bite and suck on you, shoving his tongue deep inside you, twirling it around as he grips your thighs

When you cum on his face, he makes sure to swallow and collect every last drop of cum you have to offer

Once you’re throughly prepared in his eyes, then he’ll gently and slowly sink himself inside you

Making sure he feels each and every inch of your silken vice like flesh, letting you slowly swallow his entire length

Once he’s fully sheathed inside you, he’ll slowly begin to thrust, taking his time and feeling every inch before pushing back in

He’ll use his thumb to circle your clit or pump your dick while he slowly thrusts

His slow pace is enough to drive you mad

When he starts to speed up, he’s changing the angle and begins to aim for your g-spot/prostate

Once he’s found it he doesn’t stop his assault on it, he’ll abuse it until he’s done for the night

As he speeds up his thrusts are getting harder and rougher, making your insides clench down on him

He’ll start kissing you and biting at your neck as he speeds up

When you cum on his cock he fucks you through your orgasm

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh how about hcs for yandere hero Katsuki vs yandere villain Kirishima for a reporter darling who always gets caught in the middle of their fights , romance for both of them please.

I thought the roles would be swapped, but here's my ideas on this :)

Yandere! Hero! Bakugo vs Yandere! Villain! Kirishima with Reporter! Darling

Pairing: Romantic - Rivalry

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Manipulation, Blood, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Swearing on Bakugo's part, Dubious relationship.

Bakugo and Kirishima used to be such good friends in U.A.

Nowadays it seems things have changed.

Out of the two of them, no one really expected Kirishima to turn to villainy.

Others always assumed Bakugo would due to his temper and volatility.

But, despite his personality, Bakugo managed to show everyone he can be a pro hero.

It's unknown why Kirishima defected but... such details are lost in the past.

In a way the two 'friends' still meet.

Often in battle... some even wonder if they seek one another out.

Perhaps it's Bakugo's attempt to rehabilitate Kirishima once catches him...?

Either way, you are often the one on the scene to report on the two.

At first it was because you were fascinated.

The backstory behind them both intrigues you, making you naturally want to know more.

However, over time when you try to do other cases, you somehow get caught up between the two.

It feels... planned.

Your first meeting was simple.

You were a bit reckless, asking your crew to get a bit closer to the two...

Only for Kirishima to lock eyes with you... and take you hostage for flying too close to the sun.

Yes... Your first interaction with the two was a hostage situation... on live TV.

Bakugo no doubt pauses when he sees you in his ex-best friend's arms.

He can't use his Quirk... you can't harden.

It becomes an awkward attempt to... talk to one another with you trapped against Kirishima's chest.

Kirishima is obviously trying to antagonize Bakugo by taunting him.

It nearly works... until Bakugo hears you whimper and struggle weakly against Kirishima.

He... He can't... He needs to be careful.

Kirishima no doubt playfully flirts with you to toy with Bakugo, holding you close and calling you adorably vulnerable.

The situation is tense.

But, eventually, Bakugo manages to land a clean hit without his quirk to get Kirishima to drop you.

The villain hisses in pain as Bakugo picks you up and leaves the scene to put you somewhere safe.

Your first encounter pumps adrenaline through you... You were understandably scared.

However, you still watched them both from a distance to report on their battles.

It's still your job.

... Then the two of them picked up on it....

Perhaps Kirishima playfully waves at you, only to use his quirk when Bakugo blasts him.

That or maybe you Interview Bakugo after the battle, only for him to try and hide his embarrassed blush... and Kirishima photo bombing the camera before fleeing.

The two are oddly still... amicable to one another despite their sides.

Naturally, as a reporter, you speak with Bakugo after battles.

Which sometimes catches the attention of Kirishima, who has an interest in you.

You felt so good in his arms... He wants that again.

Bakugo, due to having been friends with the villain, no doubt senses Kirishima's interest.

Feeling responsible for such an issue... Bakugo becomes like a personal hero at times when you report.

Ironically... this both makes Bakugo attached to you and Kirishima around you more often.

Fans suspect Bakugo of being attached to this one reporter he saved.

You two are always together, even when you're trying to focus on a news event.

He just... never leaves you alone... even to the point of getting irritated when you push him away.

Many view this info with either envy or fully support it.

Someone somewhere has made fanfiction of you both, no doubt about it.

You may give in and start asking the pro hero to hang out when he's not busy.

Leading you to befriend the pro hero properly.

Bakugo doesn't mind the friendship... yet, as months pass with him protecting you and hanging out...

He realizes he really has fallen for you, a reporter he saved.

Kirishima, on the other hand, stalks you and always plans where he strikes around you.

You see, he both likes to annoy Bakugo and be around you.

Bakugo being around you helps him... but also annoys the villain.

Did he seriously fall for you like he did?

For Kirishima, it felt like love... or desire... at first sight.

Ever since he got you in his arms the first time... and the countless times after that to toy with you... He can't help but want that more.

But... Now Bakugo likes you, too.

He understands the appeal, yes, but he's not willing to share the cute reporter he found.

Now the two are fighting for an entirely different reason.

You could be doing an interview or reporting a news event, only for it to transition to Bakugo and Kirishima fighting again.

Kirishima is always playful, even sabotaging your report by coming up behind you and grabbing you with a wink.

You can bet that sets off fans too.

Then Bakugo practically tackles him off you.

Their battles are often intense... and bloody.

They're about an easy match with one another, Kirishima slightly weaker than Bakugo yet still able to hold his own.

It's a... complicated scenario for you, a reporter just trying to do their job.

A villain and a hero... Both completely enamored by you.

Even to the point of giving their bloody battles more purpose.

Often at the end of their battles you can see how bloody they get....

Kirishima always manages to bleed, his skin burned and scarred due to Bakugo's blasts.

You see Bakugo with lacerations and bruises after he fights with Kirishima's hardening quirk.

Sometimes you even talk to him as he's treated, the pro hero often telling you to be quiet or shut up... yet he really enjoys your voice.

It's only matter of time before Kirishima decides to try something new.

Sure, being playful on camera with you and toying with Bakugo is fun...

But he's getting tired of sharing.

I can see Kirishima sneaking around at night and into your home, only to trap you in his arms.

"Hey, cutie... I think we're done playing games, yeah? Bakugo can't be around all the time to save you...."

Kirishima would attempt kidnapping you at some point, perhaps months after following you and Bakugo around.

Bakugo, of course, is beyond pissed and worried when he realizes you aren't home.

Bakugo has found himself having a tendency to check in on you at your home to hang out.

But... when he finished a hero mission... he noticed he hasn't heard from you and hasn't seen Kirishima...

Which makes his blood boil.

You just know Bakugo would level buildings to find you.

All while Kirishima keeps you in one of his bases of operation, acting oddly nice with you.

He offers you food and gifts, perhaps a drink or two, just a chance to get to know each other.

"DynaMight's been telling you I'm dangerous to you, huh? Typical of a hero... well... maybe I just want to get to know you? You're just so cute, know that?"

I can see Kirishima actually getting you to trust him or at least be more open to hear more about him.

He admits his interest, which catches you off guard, but before you can even ask about it...

The side of the base blows open, causing you both to jump.

"YOU!"

Bakugo's voice is like that of a roar as he stalks closer, seething.

"YOU TOOK THEM AND RAN OFF WITH THEM, RED RIOT? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?"

Kirishima seems oddly playful with his grin, pulling you close.

"Oh, DynaMight! Had no idea you'd be joining us~"

"I'VE BEEN SEARCHING THE WHOLE DAMN CITY FOR YOU, HAND THEM OVER."

"Nuh uh, finders keepers, dude. I always saw them first."

The issue with this rivalry is its... volatility.

The two are destructive when they fight.

Would they kill one another? Not intentionally.

But Bakugo would damn near want to after the stunt Kirishima's pulled.

This would be the point where something has to be done.

It's either Kirishima turns himself in... or someone's dead.

The worst part about it...?

You're stuck in the middle with no choice but to see the outcome.

[bots-and-cons]

Just saw that your requests are open and would like to request an angst/no comfort scenario for Megatron.

Imagine his romantic partner defected to the autobots because of the violent behavior of the cons and was presumed MIA. Once both fractions are on earth, the s/o shows up and both meet each other again after a long time during a fight.

I hope everything is understandable. (Sorry for grammar mistakes, english is not my main languages)

A/N: Oh boy, I love writing angst and the little sprinkle of “no comfort” is just great lol. I also have this scenario which I wrote like years ago, but it’s also total angst with Megatron. I also got an idea for a part 2. Idk if I’ll ever get around to it, but we’ll see

He couldn’t believe his optics. It was you, it was really you. The video from his troops' first battle on this puny planet was playing on the screen and you were right there. You were fighting against the decepticons you had once been a part of, alongside the autobots and that damned Prime.

“Turn it off” Megatron growled at Starscream.

“That traitor, I’ll have them disassembled for this” Starscream hissed as he paused the feed.

“You will do no such thing! Now leave me!” Megatron raised his voice, not even glancing at the seeker.

His optics were fixed on the screen. It couldn’t be anyone else, he knew that frame as well as he did his own, or at least he did in the past. How many more scars had you acquired during your time away from him? How much had you changed? How much had the autobots managed to brainwash you for you to fight alongside them?

Back when you had joined the autobots, you had been lost. You couldn’t stand the decepticons and their cruelty anymore, but above all you couldn’t watch what Megatron was becoming. He wasn’t the same mech you had fallen in love with so long ago. You had tried to reason with him so many times, but it always seemed to fall on deaf ears. Even the way he looked at you wasn’t the same as it had been. There was something dark about it, something wrong. You weren’t even sure if there was love in his optics anymore when he looked at you. It was such a drastic contrast to the warm, loving gaze the two of you once shared. So you left, you left behind all your friends, everyone you knew and your whole life. You hoped that maybe you could make up for some of the pain you had caused by joining the autobots.

You had a reputation among the autobots of course. The partner of Megatron, the mech that was the root of all evil. The one who had stood by the most terrible warlord the galaxy had ever seen, while he had destroyed your home planet and slaughtered countless of your fellow cybertronians. You knew you had a responsibility to try to balance the scales. You just wished you’d realized it sooner.

Megatron needed to find you, he needed to know why and how you disappeared. The thought of you leaving him of your own free will had never really even crossed his mind. He had been sure you’d been captured by the autobots, that you hadn’t just left him, but now his faith in that was wavering. He needed to know the truth, and he needed to hear it from you.

Megatron was on earth. That certainly explained the uneasy sense of dread you’d been feeling, but when you heard Ratchet say the words, it didn’t make you feel better. If anything, you felt even worse. You had never wanted to see him again, but now he was here. You were on the same planet as him again, and you didn’t know what to do or how to feel. You would have to face him eventually, probably in the field of battle, and you didn’t know if you could handle it. You didn’t give him an explanation, you just left during one mission and never went back. You would never go back. The autobots, even during war, had shown you a world of empathy, kindness and true friendship. They were your family. Something you never really had with the decepticons.

Even though you wanted to, you didn’t hate him. Somewhere deep inside, you might’ve still even loved him, but you had pushed those feelings aside long ago. When the time came, you would be willing to pay for your sins with your life if that’s what was needed. If it would save others, you would give your life to save your allies from the one you once called the love of your life. If someone had to die by his hand, you’d rather it be you than anyone else.

It took weeks, but when Megatron finally got word that you had appeared at an energon mine with a couple of autobots, he rushed there, not wasting a second. When he finally saw you on the battlefield, you looked the same as you did the day he lost you. The two of you looked at each other, and for just a second, it was like there was no one else there. For a moment, it was just the two of you, and for a moment Megatron was convinced things could be like they had once been. Then it happened, you turned your blaster towards him and the look in your optics was one he’d never seen before.

You hesitated, just for a split second, but that was enough for him to dodge your shot. You could see his expression change as you fired. He looked like he couldn’t believe what you’d done. That you would turn your weapon against him. Then it came, that look of rage and that the burning hatred you’d seen him aim at so many others. There was a time you’d been sure he’d never look at you like that, but here you were. You were aiming to kill the one you used to love more than anything, and you almost couldn’t bear it.

Megatron couldn’t believe that it had come to this. The one he had loved and still loved was attempting to kill him. He had given you everything, and you were trying to take his life. This must have been the work of the autobots. There was no other option, you would never try to hurt him of your own free will. He looked around frantically with a crazed look in his optics and pinpointed the Prime in the middle of the battle.

You could see Megatron looking at Optimus and you knew what he was thinking. You moved before you could even really think. Megatron was so laser focused on Optimus, that you managed to tackle him and make him fall off the cliff behind him. You fell with him.

Megatron didn’t even realize what he’d done before his back hit the ground. The fall wasn’t long, so it didn’t really affect him, but when he noticed he had wrapped his arms around you in a protective manner to shield you from the fall, he didn’t know what to think. The anger that had just been burning in his chest was gone, and all he could think about was having you in his arms again.

“Let me go” you said quietly as he kept holding onto you, while laying on the ground on his back.

He couldn’t help but ask. He had to know, he had to hear it from you.

“What happened to you?” Megatron asked, still holding you so you couldn’t get away. Your arms were pinned to your sides, and you were laying on his chest, facing him.

You couldn’t look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you would throw away everything you had built with the autobots just because he looked at you lovingly again. You were afraid you would give in and go back to him. You didn’t want that. You would never be treated like that again. You wouldn’t be treated like an object, or a trophy he could parade around.

“Let me go” you repeated, forcing the words out of your mouth.

Megatron hesitated for a moment, but he decided to let you go. He wanted an explanation, but no matter what it was, he was going to take you with him. 

You got some distance between him and yourself, but you still didn’t look at him. Not in the optics anyway. He looked the same he had the day you left, but there was a different, more destructive air about him.

“What happened to you?” he repeated.

You weren’t going to answer, and you didn’t owe him an explanation, but you still opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, a nearby explosion interrupted you.

“Come on (Name), we have to go!” Arcee yelled from on top of the cliff.

You looked up at Arcee and then glanced at Megatron, who took a step towards you. You could guess what he was thinking. He surely wanted to take you with him, but you couldn’t allow that to happen. You swiftly started climbing back to the top of the cliff.

Megatron took another step forward, but froze as he noticed a few of the autobots standing on top of the cliff, pointing their blasters at him. He considered his options for a moment, and no matter how much he wanted to drag you back to the Nemesis with him, it wasn’t worth a potentially serious injury. All he could do was watch as you climbed up and got to the top of the cliff. You were going to slip away again. You were going to be taken away from him again.

You were about to leave, but you finally gave into the desire to look back at Megatron. This time you met his gaze, and you could feel yourself growing confused as soon as you met his optics. You weren’t sure what to make of his expression. For a second, just a second, you thought you could see the old him. The one before the war started, the one you’d fallen in love with so long ago, but that thought faded as his optics grew colder and his expression hardened. Now all you could see was that same jealousy and possessiveness you’d seen before you left him. He looked at you like a possession, something he owned, something that he thought had been stolen from him and something that he would tear through anything to get back. That thought terrified you.

He would get you back, and he would do anything to make that happen. He would rip apart the autobots to get to you and make sure you could never be taken from him again. You were his, and he would get you back and never let you go again.

[delzinrowe]

Got amy headcanons about being in a secret relationship with jjk? I feel like they'd all have separate reasons for keeping everything down low

For the sake of my sanity i'm not doing all of jjk like in my hc posts I hope you're not mad at me for that

A/N: I only choose a few ones, if you want someone specific I haven't picked just send me another ask and I'll do my best. But these are the characters I feel the most and feel I can portray well. Includes: Yuji, Megumi, Takuma ☆ Choso, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Yaga

Yuji just kind of accidentally kept it a secret. With Nobara around she talks a lot, and Yuji listens, he doesn't interrupt his friends. He was going to tell them about you two eventually, but whenever he wanted to tell them something came up, mostly missions. And after a while it slipped his mind that he hasn't told anyone. He's a kind and good guy, but he's not pushy when it comes to his own daily life. When he has good news he likes to share it with friends, but after a while of trying and failing he forgot about it.

Megumi is and has always been a more private and reserved person. He takes a while to warm up with others. So, once it got serious with you two he asked if you're okay with keeping it more private. Or rather, he implied it, you already knew it was gonna be more private. He doesn't like his private business being the talk of the town. After a while he would confide into Yuji, with the promise of him not telling anyone. Nobara? Hell no, out of the question. Megumi's main goal is to keep Gojo in the dark because the poor boy would never hear the end of it if Gojo ever found out he has a partner.

Takuma would only tell it to Nanami. He might have the feeling of shouting it from the rooftops that the person he likes also likes him back. But he would much rather just confide in his mentor. Which he does. And thanks to Nanami's private nature he doesn't tell anyone else, but he is proud and happy for Takuma. That's enough for our local skaterboy. Hearing that his mentor is happy that he's happy is all he needs, therefore no one else really needs to know about it. After a while he would lose that mindset and it would be replaced with "fuck it, I wanna show you off" which is what he does. He'd have his arm around you and walk around the entire school grounds and all over Tokyo just yelling "That's my partner!" "Watch out, happy boyfriend coming through." He's the epitome of golden retriever energy.

Choso doesn't really know the etiquette of dating, his worst fear is to do something wrong and lose you. He isn't sure if being in a relationship is something you keep private or parade around. He does see couples on the street and on tv, but it's still new to him. He's only had a human body for a few short months. The thought to introduce you to his sorcerer friends doesn't even really occur to him until you ask, which prompts a conversation between you where he asks you all sorts of questions on this matter. He eventually settles for only telling his brother Yuji as he's concered for your safety. He is a curse who murdered people after all.

Gojo keeps your relationship a secret from the very first moment, even if you wouldn't have expected it from him. Being known as the strongest came with a big target on his back, he's had bounties on his head since he was a toddler. Even if he can easily take care of any threat, he would do anything to keep you safe and out of danger. The less people know about his sole weakness the better. He does apologise and spoil you to make up for it, but he cannot and will not risk putting you in harms way. If you're involved his judgement isn't as clear as it should be.

Geto could potentially have two reasons, depending on if he stayed with jujutsu high or defected. If he stayed the most prominent reason to keep your relationship a secret would be Gojo. His best friend has his nose in everything, but it's also partly since he's known as one of the strongest and you prove a weakness, in that sense he's similar to Gojo. Now... if he defected, then it's solely to keep up appearances as cult leader. Since he's not stupid he knows that a lot of people only join his cult because of his looks, and he fears that once it's known he's in a steady relationship that his cult would lose a lot of members.

Nanami is not a secretive person, but he is a more private one. He doesn't like sharing his business everywhere. What's going on in his private life will remain private. He does not like to mix personal with work, therefore he would keep your relationship quiet because it simply has no place in his work life. Especially since coming home to you is his happy place that brings him peace, he wouldn't taint that by mixing personal and work.

Yaga is an authority figure. As principal he holds a certain status, while he doesn't care much for the authority he holds, he does need to be respected. It's therefor a mix between Gojo and Nanami, where he doesn't want to mix personal too much with work, but also doesn't wanna put a target on your back. Considering he is also the only one who knows how to make cursed dolls he is already the target of some people. Dragging you into all of this would only be harmful. The only one who really knows about you two is Panda, obviously.

[sanjisboyfie]

suguru's cherished mornings

-> geto suguru x male reader -> really short sorry idk i just had to publically show how much i love him.

-> still jjk universe but the one where this babe doesnt become anakin skywalker and defect away from everyone <3333 because i like to imagine this alternate universe a LOT

his black hair sprawled over the sheets, unfortunately getting painfully pulled by you when you're still sleeping. he winces as he feels it being pressuredly pushed down onto the mattress, giving a slight tug to his sensitive scalp and affectively waking him up.

he doesn't have the heart to even be remotely annoyed or angry with you. not when you look so peaceful sleeping. not when you're so effortlessly handsome it feels almost like his heart physically stops beating at your effortless charm.

he is just that in love with you.

the way you could make doing nothing but sleeping look like art was something special only to his eye, because he was the only one that had his eye on you. or, at least, that's what he tells himself to sleep better at night (he would very much rather not think about the probably high number of individuals that also find you attractive, it'll just put him in a sour mood).

he won't wake you up. instead, he props his head up onto his palm and continues gazing at you lovingly. sure, it can be a little bit creepy, but...okay, it is just creepy, but he just loves you so much. he might pick up the book that's resting on his bedside. he'll sit against the headboard as he reads, smiling softly when you so naturally shift your body to now be hugging his legs and resting on his lap.

one hand will hold the book up for him to read whilst the other traces mindless shapes on your back.

suguru loves touching you, whether it be in the smallest grazes of his fingers or those more heated moments, he loves, loves, loves touching you. it makes him happy - genuinly.

it's his own way of grounding himself, reminding himself that you're really there with him, next to him.

his large hands will run up and down your back until you eventually wake up. the book he's reading returns back to the bedside and he immediately focuses all of his attention on you.

"g'mornin', baby," he'll gently say, shuffling to hold you in his arms and kiss the top of your head, "did you sleep well?"

a tired hum is all he gets in response, but you can still feel him smiling against your skin. you return the question, your voice gravely as you speak.

then he's pressing his face into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, humming in delight as he gets to really take you in, through all of his senses.

he has you in his arms, obviously he can see you, and the last is that he is drowning in your natural scent.

he's obsessed, at this point.

"slept perfectly, as always," when i'm beside you - that's the last part of the sentence that suguru doesn't voice, for some reason.

his arms tighten around your waist. and now you're the one carding your fingers through his hair, to sooth him and relax that tight grip on your body. he doesn't know it, but it's practically suffocating.

gently, as you predicted, his hold does loosen up and allows you to sit in his lap now without him cutting off your circulation.

"should we stay in for a little while longer, babe? are you still tired?" he asks you, but doesn't get a response. all he feels is your body comfortiably slotting in with his and the arms you had around his neck loosely falling into your lap.

"silly boy," he chuckles, finding your habits endearing and amusing. you woke up, just to get comfortable in his lap and then fall back asleep. "i love you,"

there's a low hum that comes from your chest and he takes that answer with glee. he knows you would have said it back if you had the energy or that keen awareness.

_

when the two of you finally do have the energy to get out of bed, the morning finally starts in the bathroom. you're brushing your teeth standing next to each other, suguru sometimes childishly making funny faces at you in the mirror.

you almost choked on the toothpaste in your mouth when he fulls a particularly funny face. some other mornings you're sitting on the bathroom counter with suguru comfortably standing in between your open legs. his one hand will rest on one side of your lap with the other moving the toothbrush in his mouth. that hand near your lap will sometimes go underneath your shirt and start playing with the flesh of your hips.

it sometimes earns him a warning look, which he rolls his eyes at, but eventually does pull away to please you. the other times, though, when you let his fingers dance on your skin - those times he loves.

sometime in your morning routine, one of you will get a phone call from someone in jujutsu society to call you for a mission. usually, it's you since you're not a special grade like suguru. that means you're more high in demand for lesser grade curses.

he doesn't like that, though, so he often tags along with you wherever you have to go. doesn't like being away from you for too long. it makes him angsty. makes him worried.

he wants to be there for you if anything happens. or else he wouldn't be able to live peacefully.

but on the rare mornings, you don't get beckoned for work, the two of you are lounging in your small living room. two steaming cups of coffee are on the table as suguru watches the television with you scrolling on your phone.

your legs will most likely be thrown over his lap, a subtle way of letting him touch you. his hands will always find the skin of your ankle and calf to caress, going up and down your leg as if he was trying to lull you to sleep again.

he may or may not actually be trying to do that too, he wants you to stay here with him and only him for a while longer. and when you're sleeping, you're doing just that. it's his own little secret, though, as he'd never confess these underhanded methods he uses to monopolize your time and attention.

and its usually at times like that: the light pouring in through the opened window, the cups of steaming coffee in front of you two, that skin to skin contact, when suguru feels the most thankful for having you.

you make the mundane mornings something worth living through. he doesn't have to struggle and find reason to get out of bed, not when he has you there to hold his hand through the motions of it. you make his life exciting and he loves you dearly for all that you unknowingly do for him.

"hm, love you, [name]," he'll say out of nowhere.

it makes your head lift up from the couch cushion and away from your phone screen. he catches your e/c eyes with his own, smiling softly at your adorable face.

"love you too, suguru, always," you easily respond, sitting up to kiss his cheek and leaving a lingering scent of coffee on his skin.

but he doesn't wipe it away, he never would.

you collpase back onto the couch cushion into your comfortable position and suguru can't help but note how homey you look.

he loves when he gets to spend his mornings with you because those are the best parts of his day.

the mundane turned special in its own way, all thanks to you and the love he has for you in his heart.

[roseyreveries]

To my lovely anon who sent me a request this morning, I do see it and I have written it for you, but I can not reply to your request 😭 I think I may have replied back to you accidentally half asleep at like 4am this morning and didn’t realize. I feel awful!! but here it is for you!

Domestic Disasters

REQUEST: I was imagining muggleborn!fem!reader and Draco moving in together in their established relationship. I was thinking it would be so funny if the reader realizes Draco doesn’t know how to do simple things with “muggle products”. For example, loading and starting the dishwasher, working the microwave and stove, or even washing a load of laundry. So reader pokes fun at his attempts but eventually teaches him how to do it all. Example of dialogue: “Draco this is not a big enough load to run the washing machine!” Because he has one coat and a pair of socks in it and he’s trying to add a ton of laundry detergent. 🤣

CW: so much flufffff

Directory <- click!

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The first thing you noticed when you moved in with Draco Malfoy was the distinct smell of burning popcorn.

“Draco! What the hell are you doing?” you shouted, bolting into the kitchen. The sight before you was almost comedic. Draco Malfoy, former Slytherin Prince and master of disdainful smirks, stood in front of the microwave, glaring at it like it had insulted his lineage. Smoke curled ominously from the edges of the microwave door.

“It’s supposed to make the popcorn pop, yeah?” he said defensively, his wand gripped in one hand like he was about to duel the appliance. “But it’s not popping. It’s bloody burning! This thing’s defective.”

You groaned, rushing to open the microwave door. A billow of smoke escaped, and you coughed, waving a hand in front of your face. Inside was a charred mess of what had once been a bag of popcorn.

“Draco,” you began, turning to face him, “you’re not supposed to put the bag in for ten minutes! It’s like, two minutes tops. Tops.”

He crossed his arms, scowling like a petulant child caught red-handed. “Well, excuse me for not being fluent in Muggle contraptions. How am I supposed to know the rules for these… infernal devices?” His cheeks were tinged with a faint pink, and you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or frustration.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, fighting back a laugh. “This is why we read the instructions, Draco.”

“Instructions?” he scoffed, the word sounding almost foreign in his mouth. “Utterly unnecessary. Why don’t we just use magic? One swish of my wand, and the popcorn would be perfect. None of this… nonsense.” He gestured vaguely at the microwave, as if its existence personally offended him.

You stepped forward and plucked the wand from his hand before he could actually cast a spell. “Because,” you said firmly, “we agreed to try doing things the Muggle way. You know, since we’re living together now? And you’re the one who said—and I quote—‘I want to immerse myself in your world, darling.’ Remember that?”

Draco’s lips twitched, and he muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Worst decision of my life.”

“What was that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, though the pink on his cheeks deepened. “But honestly, darling, what’s the point of Muggle contraptions if they can’t even perform their one job properly? Popcorn is supposed to pop, not incinerate.”

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore. The sight of Draco Malfoy—the man who had once faced Death Eaters without flinching—getting flustered over a bag of burnt popcorn was just too much. He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it.

“Oh, come on,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “It’s not the microwave’s fault you set it to ‘obliterate.’”

“I did no such thing,” he retorted, sniffing indignantly. “And for the record, I still think this entire endeavor is ridiculous. Magic is far superior.”

“Sure it is,” you said with a grin, grabbing a fresh bag of popcorn from the counter. “But maybe next time, let the Muggle handle the Muggle contraptions, yeah?”

Draco rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned against the counter, watching you as you placed the new bag in the microwave and set the timer for two minutes.

“See?” you said as the popping sounds began. “Not so hard, is it?”

“Hmm,” he murmured, his gaze shifting from the microwave to you. “I’ll admit, it’s marginally less of a disaster when you do it. But only marginally.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. The timer beeped, and you pulled out the perfectly popped bag, handing it to him with a flourish.

“Your Highness,” you said dramatically. “Your popcorn.”

Later that week, you discovered that Draco Malfoy—the boy who faced down Death Eaters and taunted Harry Potter himself—had met his match. His ultimate nemesis? The washing machine.

“What the bloody hell is that godforsaken racket?!” Draco’s voice rang out, sharp and panicked, from the laundry room. The clanging, banging, and erratic thuds were so loud you’d half-expected the Ministry of Magic to come knocking, accusing you both of harboring a rogue Hippogriff.

You followed the noise, already amused, and froze in the doorway at the sight. Draco stood in front of the vibrating washing machine, his pale face a mix of fury and wide-eyed terror. He looked like he was watching a Hungarian Horntail getting ready to strike. The machine shuddered violently, groaning as if it were about to sprout legs and march out of the house entirely.

“Why is it doing that?!” he demanded, flinging an accusatory finger at the poor appliance. “It’s not normal! Machines shouldn’t move like that!”

You bit back a laugh, though your lips twitched with the effort. “What did you put in there, Draco?”

“Clothes!” he snapped, his tone defensive as if you’d just accused him of committing high treason. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, and his chin tilted up in that trademark Malfoy arrogance, though his shaking voice betrayed him. “And maybe… maybe a pair of shoes. But how was I supposed to know it would throw a tantrum about it?!”

That was it—you lost it. You burst out laughing so hard your knees buckled, and you had to clutch the doorframe for support. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you doubled over, your stomach cramping from the force of it. Draco, meanwhile, stood glaring at you, his cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation.

“This isn’t funny!” he huffed, his sharp tone completely undercut by how ridiculous he looked. “I think it’s trying to kill me!”

“Kill you? Oh, sweetheart, no,” you managed to gasp out between giggles, wiping at your damp eyes. “But you’re absolutely killing me right now.”

Finally able to breathe, you stepped closer to inspect the chaos. Peeking inside the washer, you found the culprits: a single coat, one pair of socks, two heavy sneakers, and what looked like an entire cauldron’s worth of laundry detergent. The foam was nearly pouring out of the machine, and it gave one last menacing thud before falling eerily silent.

“Draco,” you began, trying to sound serious despite your laughter, “you can’t just throw shoes in the washer! Or half a bottle of detergent, for that matter!”

“How was I supposed to know that?!” he hissed, throwing his hands in the air. “This… this Muggle contraption is an instrument of torture! I refuse to go near it again. You’ll have to do the laundry from now on.”

You smirked, leaning up to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Oh no, love. You started this mess; you’re cleaning it up. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you. Just try not to blow up the house in the meantime, yeah?”

Draco groaned, muttering under his breath about “Muggle nonsense” as he begrudgingly followed your instructions. You couldn’t stop grinning, though. For all his dramatics, there was something oddly endearing about seeing him completely out of his depth—and utterly defeated—by something as mundane as a washing machine.

Dishwashing wasn’t exactly Draco’s strong suit either. If the washing machine had been his nemesis, the dishwasher was its equally vengeful twin.

You walked into the kitchen, stopping dead in your tracks at the sight before you. A frothy mountain of soap suds was cascading out of the dishwasher and spreading across the floor like some kind of bubbly, unstoppable avalanche. Draco stood in the middle of the chaos, staring at the mess with a look of sheer disbelief, a bottle of dish soap still clutched in his hand.

“What did you do?” you asked, your tone torn between exasperation and uncontrollable laughter.

“I put the soap in!” he exclaimed, his brows furrowed as if you were the crazy one in this situation. “You said it needed soap!”

“Yeah, but not half the bloody bottle, Draco!” you cried, gesturing wildly at the foamy disaster surrounding you both.

“Well, you didn’t specify how much!” he shot back defensively, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. “How am I supposed to know these things? It’s not as if there’s a spell for proper soap-to-dishwasher ratios!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, though the corners of your mouth were already twitching upward. When you peeked through your fingers again, Draco had run a hand through his perfectly styled blond hair, messing it up just enough to give him that irresistibly disheveled look. Too bad he was utterly hopeless in this moment.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, glaring at the soap suds as if they had personally wronged him. “How do Muggles survive without magic? Honestly, it’s barbaric.”

You couldn’t help it anymore—you burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching the counter for support. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad!” you managed between giggles. “You’re just… hilariously bad at it.”

Draco shot you a withering look that would have made lesser mortals quake in their boots. “Glad you’re enjoying my suffering,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, I am,” you replied cheekily, grinning ear to ear as you grabbed a towel to start mopping up the mess. “I’m enjoying it a lot, actually.”

He groaned again, tossing the soap bottle onto the counter in defeat before crouching down to help you clean up. “You know, you could help a little more and laugh a little less,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” you teased, tossing him another towel. “Besides, you’re lucky you didn’t break the damn thing.”

Draco muttered something about “Muggle contraptions being out to get him,” but you couldn’t stop smiling. For all his frustration, there was something undeniably endearing about watching him try—and fail—at the most basic household tasks. As long as he didn’t blow up the kitchen, you figured you’d survive this particular domestic adventure… barely.

One particularly unforgettable evening, you walked into the kitchen to find Draco Malfoy locked in an epic battle with what had apparently become his latest foe: the vacuum cleaner.

“Why is it chasing me?!” he shouted, his voice an octave higher than usual as he backed into a corner. The vacuum’s hose flailed wildly, as if it had a mind of its own, and Draco looked genuinely terrified, his wand gripped tightly in one hand.

You froze for half a second, taking in the scene, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. You had to clutch the counter to keep from collapsing. “Draco, it’s not alive!” you managed to gasp out, tears streaming down your face.

His silver-grey eyes snapped to yours, full of indignation. “Then explain why it’s attacking me!” he retorted, his chest heaving with frustration. “This… this abomination is clearly bewitched!”

“It’s not bewitched,” you said, still laughing so hard it hurt. “You just turned it on without holding the handle properly!”

Draco’s glare could have frozen the Sahara. He brandished his wand at the vacuum like it was a particularly nasty boggart. “It’s trying to eat me,” he declared with absolute certainty.

You snorted, finally catching your breath enough to step in. Taking pity on him, you reached over and turned the vacuum off with a simple press of a button. It went silent instantly, leaving Draco staring at it with suspicion as if it might spring back to life at any moment.

But before he could recover his pride, you whipped out your phone and snapped a picture of his wide-eyed, cornered expression. His hair was slightly mussed, and he looked so hilariously out of place that you couldn’t resist.

“Give me that,” he demanded, snatching the phone from your hand with a scandalized look. “If you show this to anyone, I swear—”

“Relax,” you interrupted, grinning mischievously. “It’s just for me. You’re way too cute when you’re scared.”

Draco muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Insufferable Muggle contraptions and their even more insufferable girlfriends.” But despite his protests, you caught the tiniest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re lucky you’re adorable,” he added begrudgingly, handing your phone back with a dramatic sigh.

“Oh, I know,” you said cheekily, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “And you’re lucky you’re mine, even if you are completely hopeless with anything Muggle.”

His ears turned pink, though he quickly tried to hide it with his usual Malfoy bravado. “Hopeless?” he echoed, smirking now. “We’ll see who’s hopeless when I hex that infernal contraption into oblivion.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as you grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s leave the vacuum alone before you traumatize yourself. Or worse—me.”

And though he grumbled the whole way out of the kitchen, you couldn’t help but notice how he held onto your hand just a little tighter.

By the end of the first month, Draco had reluctantly mastered the art of microwaving (under your strict supervision) and had developed a deep, abiding distrust of both the washing machine and the dishwasher. But despite his many domestic disasters, you couldn’t help but find him utterly endearing.

One quiet morning, you wandered into the kitchen, still wearing your sleep shirt and a pair of shorts, your hair slightly messy from bed. Draco was already there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, sipping tea as he watched you with a faint smirk. His grey eyes followed you as you padded over to the toaster, your bare feet making soft sounds on the tiled floor.

You grabbed a couple of slices of bread and popped them into the toaster like it was second nature. You turned the dial, pressed the lever, and leaned against the counter to wait, completely unfazed.

Draco, on the other hand, looked utterly baffled. “That’s it?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

You glanced over your shoulder, amused. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’? It’s a toaster, Draco. You put the bread in, press the button, and voilà—toast.”

His brows furrowed as if the simplicity offended him. “That’s absurdly easy. Too easy. It can’t be that straightforward.”

“It really is,” you said with a teasing grin, turning back to face the toaster. “But I guess that’s a foreign concept for someone who’s used to snapping their fingers and having everything magically done for them.”

Before you could say anything more, you felt his presence behind you. Warm hands slid around your waist, and his chest pressed against your back as his chin came to rest lightly on your shoulder. “Are you mocking me, love?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, his breath tickling your ear.

“Always,” you replied, though your voice was softer now. His touch was distracting, his arms holding you snugly against him, and you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken.

Draco hummed, his lips curving into a smirk against your shoulder. “It’s not my fault I’ve had house-elves and magic to cater to my every whim. You’ve spoiled me too, you know.”

“Oh, have I?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him. “I didn’t realize making toast would put me in the same league as your house-elves.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against your back. “You make it look so effortless,” he said, his tone suddenly softer, almost reverent. “Everything you do, really. It’s infuriating how competent you are. Meanwhile, I’m out here battling washing machines and vacuums.”

You laughed, leaning back into him as his arms tightened slightly around you. “It’s called basic life skills, Draco. You might want to pick up a few.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “Why would I bother when I have you to handle all of that for me?”

“Oh, so I’m your house-elf now?” you teased, arching an eyebrow.

His lips brushed the shell of your ear as he murmured, “You’re far more than that, love. Though I wouldn’t say no to you in an apron…”

You turned your head sharply, your cheeks heating up as you swatted his arm. “Draco Malfoy!”

He laughed, low and teasing, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “What? Just a thought.”

The toaster popped, startling you both. You laughed, and Draco reluctantly loosened his hold on you, though his hands stayed on your hips. “See?” you said, pulling the toast out with a triumphant grin. “Easy. No house-elf required.”

He watched you with a mixture of admiration and amusement. “Maybe I don’t need house-elves,” he said, leaning in close again, his lips ghosting over your jawline. “Maybe I just need you.”

Your breath hitched, and you turned to face him, holding the toast in one hand as you placed the other on his chest. “Careful, Draco,” you said, your voice playful but your heart racing. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Good,” he murmured, his smirk softening into something more genuine as he leaned down to kiss you. The toast was forgotten as you melted into him, his lips warm and gentle against yours.

As the kiss deepened, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “But you’re still not making me learn that infernal contraption.”

You laughed against his lips, shaking your head. “You’re hopeless.”

“And yet, you still love me,” he said smugly, his hands sliding back around your waist.

“Unfortunately for me, I do,” you replied, grinning.

Draco’s smirk returned as he captured your lips again, the kitchen filled with the warm scent of toast and the unmistakable feeling of home.

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@ferntv @katie_kinz

[darkmuffinstudios]

Thought of a kinda silly Criller/Kross AU where Cross defects from Nightmare's gang and joins Dream's- only for their party to later capture and hold Killer prisoner. The others wanna kill him for his crimes, but Cross (And, deep down, Dream) convinces the others that Killer can change.

Something something they start Killer on the path to be reformed, to which *eventually* Killer gives in and actually starts doing (totally not because he loves Cross or anything haha)

I feel like the whole AU would be filled with small moments between Cross and Killer, like Cross teaching him about gentleness- and how hard it was for him to learn it too.

I think Killer slowly, over time, starts to get used to life with the others and starts being better and better. He's still Killer- that much can't really change- but that small sliver of himself, the past self, yearns for a kind of peace he's never had before.

I think eventually, the two would also help mend things between Nightmare and Dream. Despite Killer warming up to Dream after so many years of hatred, I think his loyalties still lie with Nightmare. He's been through and seen lots of stuff over the years he's probably worked with the guy, so he's probably the only one in meetings or normal chat that actually defends him.

And I think Dream eventually recognizes that and starts quietly coming to him with advice for his brother, which causes the two to bond and disnxjdkxnxuf

I think Dream would be a little sad he missed the Nightmare of recent years, and I think Killer feels bummed out he couldn't help the Nightmare from the past.

Think there would also be a time where Cross sometimes relapses into old habits which the others scorn and scold him for, and Killer is the one which stands up for him and knows how to handle it (since he's probably seen it all the time, in a worse form, back when they both worked for Nightmare). Same thing if it was reversed the other way- Cross easing tensions between everyone and making sure Killer's alright.

I don't know, I just feel like no matter where they are, they get each other the most. They may have had different pasts, different circumstances, different everything- they're still so much alike. That can cause them to butt heads sometimes, sure, but I feel like they understand despite the fighting.

[ahsoka-its-all-of-us]

One thing that never fails to wreck me is that out of Kallus and Zeb it's probably Kallus who experiences the worst directly-caused-by-partner PTSD

I mean obviously they both have PTSD that's linked to the other person, but there is a difference and it breaks me

Zeb's major trauma is of course the loss of his home and people in the Purge of Lasan. This was committed by the Empire, a large, faceless institution, causing Zeb to hate everything Imperial simply for being Imperial. He eventually finds out that Kallus was there and is therefore partially responsible, which in turn causes him to make Kallus the face of that otherwise faceless Empire, the focal point of his hatred. However, this only happens years after the actual incident, and doesn't last long; things change after Bahryn, and even more after it becomes clear that Kallus has switched sides.

Kallus's main defining trauma is probably Onderon (though Lasan will likely have reinforced it). Specifically it's about that one Lasat mercenary who killed his unit, causing him to develop a hatred (which is probably a masked fear) of the entire species.

And now here's the difference. Neither of them was present at the other person's trauma -- Kallus was at Lasan, yes, but he didn't encounter Zeb and Zeb's memory of the incident does not include him --, but still Kallus's trauma is a lot more personal-focused than Zeb's. Zeb's trauma is triggered by the faceless mass of the Empire, and yes, Kallus is was a part of that, but he denounced it. As soon as he left the Empire, and even before that, he got a face, a personality, and from Bahryn on it's clear that this makes a difference to Zeb. Kallus isn't an Imperial anymore; he's Kallus, a person of his own. Undoubtedly Zeb will occasionally remember that Kallus used to be Imperial and what his role was in the Purge of Lasan, but he is not the main focal point. As he sheds his Imperial mantle, he isn't what Zeb has seen in his nightmares for years anymore.

Kallus, however...

Where Zeb's trauma is triggered by an institution, Kallus's is triggered by a species. Zeb isn't that mercenary, but he is a Lasat. And where Kallus can defect from the Empire, can work to turn his personality and what he's associated with from purely Imperial to Rebellious, Zeb can't change he fact that he's a Lasat. And even if he could, he wouldn't. He's proud to be a Lasat, feels obligated to uphold his culture's legacy. And Kallus wouldn't want him to change that, would want for Zeb to uphold the culture he himself in the Empire tried to eradicate. But the more Zeb does, the more he is reminded of his own guilt and trauma ;-;

(this is by the way also a heart-breaking example of how the Empire's faceless uniformity helps it eschew accountability)

[gossippool]

fuck it 1.5k words of logan exposition that's part of the first chapter of an unpublished fic i won't be done with anytime soon. this backstory is partially inspired by the origin comic. tw mentions of violence, death, child death, self-harm etc. etc.

-----

The first time Logan killed an innocent, he was ten years old. He could name many moments in his life that felt monumental—'canon events', or whatever shit Wade calls it—but if he really had to name a point of no return for him, it would be then. All the way back then. He wonders about fate, often. If it was possible that things could ever be different. Then he remembers. His past comes back to him in flashes still, even after two hundred years. His ribbed, rough bones splintering the skin between his knuckles for the first time, the deafening quiet of the night broken by his howls and his mother’s screams, the gunshot before that, as if all the world had been contained in that one room. Her body underneath his, wounds gaping—maybe her throat, maybe her chest, or her stomach—and guzzling dark, dark wine. His grandfather’s mouth moving, the spit on his tongue. The words made no sound—he couldn’t remember what his grandfather had said, nor what he'd sounded like. But he'd known. So he'd run.

He'd had a decent childhood, before it all. Decent enough that he hadn't thought of life anywhere else, at least, or maybe that spoke of something that was the opposite of decency. Regardless, he'd felt… clean. He hadn't known about his claws then. How could he? His own mutant brother had been cast away, erased from the family legacy, with no explanation as to why. But now his claws resided in him like an itch under his skin, dead weight when he moved. He felt their presence in his fingertips even when they were retracted, and now when he thought back to the before, before he'd had the claws, he thought that maybe he'd felt them then too. He just hadn't known it.

It had been an accident, killing the mother he'd longed to see, the one he'd missed even when she was alive. But it being an accident changed nothing.

He'd been filled with a quiet sort of rage since then, the kind that simmered low in his blood, unnoticable on some days but intrinsically a part of him nonetheless. His anger was its own organ that kept his body running unprompted, and if he let himself accept that he was angry, let himself feel it, it took everything in him to not claw his way through the anger. To not claw at himself until he reached bone, to hear the unnatural, inhuman screech of metal against metal.

He'd released it in increments, chopping wood and lugging wheelbarrows and running with the wolves, and beating up the occasional man who deserved it. That was in the early stages, when every exhale released puffs of anger into the cold air.

On bad days—the bad days were the normal days—he wondered if he had been born defective. Not just in his claws, but born to be full of fear and hatred, to not know where to put any of it. Born to reap the consequences of his brother's failures in the form of neglect and frigid silences, of the bond of family only through blood and nothing more. In unleashing himself, he'd become his brother, maybe. A mantle of generational disappointment passed on for him to bear.

On worse days when he hated himself to the point of self-mutilation, he recognised that it may have been inevitable. A buildup of pressured anger in centuries-long microdoses that eventually forced its way through his fissures and burst out of him, destroying everything in its path.

He sits in this bar now, indistinguishable from all the others, unwanted again, always running. He bears the looks and the whispers like a wooden cross, dragging the weight of it on his back down Gethsemane streets—sacrificing himself for what the people feel it right give him, what he knows he deserves: contempt. The bartender pours him another drink with what looks like anger, but also pity. Pity is kinder than anything he’s been dealt for the past few years.

He holds the shot glass like a communion cup, imagines that in it is his mother’s blood. When he drinks it, he thinks forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me of my sins. But he knows he won’t be forgiven. He doesn’t know anymore if he even wants to be. Because his sins have been building up for two hundred years, clawing at each other to get to the insurmountable top. He is sin. Every inch of his body, from the roots of his hair to the skin under his fingernails, has been stained with blood that he has washed off over and over again but still feels. If he’s forgiven, if all his sins are taken away, he doesn’t know if there would be anything left of him but metal and a hardened heart.

It may absolve him of some guilt, he thinks, if he could say he remembers them all—all the people he’s killed, all the ways he killed them. He doesn’t. They hadn’t been important enough to him then, besides the life that they held in them that he starved to take away. And when his claws pierced through their flesh and muscle and bone, he drank up the lifelessness in their eyes like morphine. The high kept him alive, and rotted his insides. It quenched his thirst, but it didn't make him feel good. Then again, when does addiction ever?

He can't even remember the X-Men. When he had, when they'd crossed his thoughts in passing when they were alive, he could see them clear as day in his mind, vivid in saturation and detail. Now when he tries thinking of them, all he sees is questions written in blood.

He does remember one of them, vaguely, of those he's killed. All of his past is a blur now, memories seen through a fogged-up window or in a yellowing photo album. But this one he sees with slightly more clarity: a girl with dark skin and darker hair, a carbon copy of her mother. He'd killed them both twice over. It was the first time he killed a child.

And he remembers her because he’d liked it when he killed her. The tabooness of it, the special sanctity of a child's life that he had forced away, so easily. Something that people hardly dare to do. Look, he remembers yelling, to dead bricks and corpses in a dead-end alley. I'll fucking show you. They’d thought he couldn’t go lower than he already had. They'd thought they couldn't hate him more. They had no idea what he was capable of.

He remembers her screams, bloodcurdling but still unmistakably a child’s, and then her eternal silence. He remembers her mother's begging, his own mother's begging. He remembers that he had not felt an ounce of guilt in that moment, nor remorse, nor any of the gravity of her life.

Now whenever he drinks, he drinks enough to kill himself a little, in remembrance of her.

Not that that's the only reason. Because underneath it all, despite it all, through it all, he is nothing but a selfish bastard. And it's fucked up, he knows it is, but when he stopped killing people it had felt like withdrawal. More potent than any withdrawal he could get from drugs like a normal person. It was a withdrawal he's stuck with because he's more tired of kiling people than he is thirsty to sate his urge. Not the urge to kill—just the thought of it now makes him sick, clogs his throat with blood—but the urge to take all his despair and anger out on something. Everything. And oh, he's tried. Not even killing the world and filling oceans with blood was enough.

So he drinks, because nothing can satiate that urge, and the alcohol makes him forget that it even exists. You can't think about anything when you're blackout drunk. You can't see how other people look at you when you're passed out. But even in unconsciousness his body remains wound tight and tense, and he wakes up sore through every muscle.

He doesn’t believe in God, but he’s lived long enough to know enough. And he knows that God wouldn’t differentiate between the good and bad people he's killed. Blood is blood is blood. The blood of the innocent mixes with the blood of the evil, turning the lake a plagued, undrinkable scarlet all the same.

And this isn't a children's book, a bedtime story, a movie where everything gets wrapped up in a nice little bow and they all live happily ever after. He fucking wishes.

All of it remains in the back of his mind like a prowler, laying dormant and ready to pounce, when Wade drags him out of that bar; when he decides to save that asshole's timeline; when Laura tells him he's the wrong guy until he isn't; when Wade says he's the best Wolverine. He looks around him, and all the world is still black and white and bleeding red.

[niiwa-angel]

Justice League Uncanny Valley Headcanons.

The members of the Justice League are all very uniquely trained and most of them aren't human but have to ACT human in their day to day lives. But despite them trying their best, normal humans can still tell something isn't quite right.

Clark Kent has no give to him. Superman is the Man of Steel but as Clark Kent, people find it awkward to hug him, shake his hand, or cuddle because his muscles and skin feel too tough.

Diana Prince is weirdly strong. Her coworkers struggle to move cases of artifacts because they're heavy but she has no trouble. When they ask, she always just says she knows the right way to hold things or push them but never elaborates.

Bruce Wayne is just a normal human, but he's trained himself into a weapon. His reflexes are sharper than anybody else's. Whenever he gets caught on camera catching something before anybody else, or dodging something most people couldn't, he always waves it away as "dad reflexes"

Barry Allen moves very deliberately. Every action looks like it's rehearsed and planned, yet he's twitchy when he thinks nobody is watching.

Hal Jordan spends so much time in space that it's vacuum has removed his scent. It's not something most people would notice but when they spend a lot of time with him, they get the sense that something is missing.

Arthur Curry blends in pretty well in Atlantis but in the surface, some of his Atlantean traits seem odd. His webbed feet and hands are particularly noticable. "A birth defect" he'll say and never elaborate on. Everyone else is a little nervous to ask

John Jones looks photoshopped. His features seem too semetrical, his expressions are too well done. He almost looks like an AI generated image, but he's standing in front of people, they can reach out and touch him. He's real. But his features just seem too perfect.

Clark Kent knows things before they happen. He knows when a storm is coming, he warns people about incoming hail before their weather apps even alert them. He'll look in the sky for a few minutes and eventually, everyone else will see a plane or helicopter coming from that direction. He'll ask people about their colds before they even show symptoms.

Diana Prince seems wise beyond her years. She'll tell stories from when she was younger but will never give anybody an exact age. When asked, she'll just laugh and say "older than I look" and eventually, people are too unnerved to keep pushing.

Bruce Wayne makes no noise when he walks. He's a ditzy playboy, always leaning on things, talking loudly about nothing, and he loves a good cocktail... And yet his steps make no noise. He can sneak up on people, despite his size and clumsiness. It's completely out of character and it confuses people at Galas and parties.

Barry Allen is very prone to static shock. He'll shake someone's hand and zap them, only to apologize and say he's nervous. Touching him feels like holding an overcharged battery and nobody understands it. Sometimes people's arm hair stands up around him and people have to explain it as goosebumps or the chill, because there are no other explanations.

Hal Jordan drops things a lot. Not in a clumsy way, not like "I didn't put the whole bottom of the cup on the edge of the table" kind of way. He'll just straight up let go of things he's holding. He always has some excuse. He was looking into your eyes and got lost. Someone pretty walked by. But sometimes he does it and seems just as confused as everyone else.

Arthur Curry's skin feels bumpy and cold. It's like his circulation is terrible but he never complains about a chill. When he isn't wearing a long sleeve, people notice that his skin has a weird looking texture, but some brush it off as old scars.

John Jones seems to know everything another person is about to say, even before they say it. He's answering questions that haven't been asked, only thought. "Good intuition" he'll say or "I'm a detective" but it makes people nervous.

[derangedanomaly]

Hi, I was hoping to request a scenario with undertale bros, underfell, underswap, and horrortale. (Ignore horrortalenif itsnalready to much) and in this, reader is blind. People have the ability to heal blindness now since monsters got to the overworld because of the healing magic, but there's that 1% of people who just can't be healed. I would love to see how they would act when first meeting them and how they eventually grow to see them as best friend or lover. You can depend d if it's best friend or lover I'm fine with ether!

Thank you for reading this, and please have a nice day/afternoon! Also stay safe!

This is really interesting! Y'all are getting really creative with these scenarios. I like it! I also hope you have a nice day/afternoon, and stay safe! Enjoy! (Also, sorry for the delay)

Masterlist

UNDERTALE AUS X BLIND READER

(Undertale, Underfell, Underswap, Horrortale)

Warning: mention of cannibalism in the Horrortale part (not very detailed though)

UNDERTALE

They're both so considerate of you. They want you to have absolutely no problems while walking around anywhere. (Papyrus is your own assigned shield )

They're both very surprised when they found out that you're one of a kind with this 'defect'.

Papyrus will immediately want to be your friend! He will try so hard to gain your friendship.

Sans on the other hand will kinda avoid you. Unless you need help with something. He WILL help you. No matter if you're friends or not. He just has this respect towards you.

Who knows. Maybe- they'll want to become more than friends 😉 (Depending on your relationship with them) (this goes for all the following AU's!!)

UNDERSWAP

Sans feels this need to help you out a lot of times. Which makes you in turn feel a little "pathetic".. but you know he means well!

Papyrus will be around you quite a lot, because he wants to help you out whenever. (Similar to Classic, just without avoiding you)

They both just help you out. Though Papyrus does so in secret, while Sans...not as much.

Since Sans keeps in contact with Error, he introduces him to you! You and Error immediately click together, Error's short sight and your blindness is the core reason for your friendship. (Even though they're not really the same thing)

Sans is delighted that you two get along so well! But after a few interactions...he starts to feel jealous. (Lmao, you started this though 💀)

Papyrus doesn't want you to have any sort of connection with Error. He wants you to stop interacting with him immediately. It's worse enough that Sans keeps in contact with Error. (Let the besties be! 🙄)

UNDERFELL

Lmao, they don't give a shit about your defect. They'll still treat you as if you never even HAD any blindness. (That's so sweet though, wtf?)

Sans will probably make lots of jokes about blind people. (They're pretty much dark jokes)

Papyrus on the other hand will sometimes forget that you're blind, and will "accidentally" slip up. (Many times)

"You seeing this shit Y/n?" <- Papyrus 2024

Papyrus and Sans will accompany you a lot though. You'll be squished between them a lot. (What dream-)

They act like such brutes, but once they're alone with you, they'll turn into soft puddles. (Lmao. Imagine that.)

HORRORTALE:

Horror actually likes the fact you can't see him.. he thinks like that because he knows you'll probably be very terrified of him if you would've seen him in person. (Poor baby-)

Papyrus is kinda oblivious to your blindness, until Sans has to point it out to him.

They're both very much- worried about your safety.

Look, they don't doubt your abilities, it's just that you being blind makes you an easy target. The solution? SKELE-BROTHERS PROTECTION SQUAD!! (Papyrus came up with the name 💀)

They're very violent towards the people that cross ways with you. I swear- they don't hesitate to kill people for you.

Papyrus kinda turned you into a cannibal accidentally- he fed you his famous spaghetti 💀

But you know, you didn't know the contents of the meal, and was enjoying it too much. And you know... The more you had it the more you became addicted to it. (I mean, it's Horrortale. What did you expect?)

You knew that you were eating human meat at some point, since Papyrus and Sans kept dropping hints. (Aka. Making it obvious) but you were too far into eating it, this being the 10th time Papyrus served you Spaghetti. What's the use in stopping now?

[blkkizzat]

one pet peeve i have about certain anime/manga is the lost potential of a manga-ka not properly developing/exploring the world and characters they created.

after gege finishes this bullshit i want someone to buy them out and remake the jjk anime. ideally (spoilers): season 1 & 2

make jjk 0 the start of the series and yuta the main character (as was originally planned).

flesh out the student relationships that year with yuta, maki, inumaki and panda more

inumaki backstory (apparently he is from a sorcerer family too)

fleshout inumaki feelings/struggles with not being able to speak actual words

laying foundation for future maki/mai resolution later in series and the treatment of non-cursed energy users by zenin family. brief mentions of toji and perhaps megumi.

more history of how jujutsu society works as there's a whole hierarchy alluded to we never find out about and also would help on how they are in or have ties to the government which is revealed later in shibuya arc.

more confrontation between gojo and geto. theres 10 whole entire years between geto's defection and jjk 0. these two were practically inseparable (whether you see them as soul-besties or lovers) and theres an active bounty on geto. there had to be more passing moments, tension and smaller battles/struggles there.

show adoptive family relationship between geto, nanako and mimiko.

in fact theres a whole unexplored dichotomy between geto's mentorship to his sorcerer family he made from his followers and the found family of jujutsu high under gojo.

yuta struggling more with the guilt/burden of rika and mastering his ct

okay then finally we can have 'night parade of a hundred demons' and that resolution.

season 3 - hidden inventory arc

honestly this arc was pretty solid and can stay mostly the same but could be expanded by 3-4 episodes

show more of the dynamic between geto, gojo and shoko give us some more history/backstory of shoko.

give us an episode with haribara. like yes its sad he died but we didnt no anything about him really for it to be as impactful as it should have been as its literally the reason nanami stayed on to be a jujutsu sorcerer and what finally made geto snap.

give more backstory on gojo's family and expectations of him and how him being "othered" as the most powerful makes him more disconnected from people

something a bit more substantial to show even through gojo and geto were super close gojo couldn't emotionally empathize enough to see how much geto actually was struggling and the fact he failed him there

also see yuki interact with the rest of them more as she literally popped up out of the blue

movie break before season 4 for toji backstory movie

season 4 - the actual first season of jjk

i know yuji isnt the brightest crayon in the box but you'd think he'd actually go to the high school library/raid gojo's family library for ancient text/info on the actual curse living inside him. we should learn more of sukuna in this way, hell you could even rope in his old occult club for this.

more of sukuna mocking yuji. we see sukuna show interest in megumi which is good foreshadowing but we have nothing to hint of their actual relationship connection. i don't think sukuna would just be silent i think he would be mocking yuji internally alot.

sukuna should take over yuji's body temporarily due to their vow and we should have an early intoduction to uraume.

can we develop junpei more? he can have the same fate eventually but i feel like he should have joined jjk high briefly (still being manipulated on the side by mahito) before turning on yuji and this also is a good parallel to yuta story of how not everyone can be saved/converted.

introduce ino and show his and nanami relationship. how nanami struggles with it after haibara death

an episode or two just seeing the kyoto students interact and develop more of the relationship between mechamaru and miwa.

more information on how/why megumi sister got cursed. i assume megumi looses his shit later bc his sister is the only family he had that he gave a damn about but we need to see some more flashback scenes with them. i gotta be honest idgaf about her at this point and we certainly didnt see enough for megumi to completely lose the will to live or be as suicidal summoning mahoraga at every inconvenience lol.

season 5 - shibuya arc

things here would have made a lot more sense/felt better if things earlier were developed more as i mentioned so i dont think there needs to be a ton of changes.

we DO need to see how inumaki lost his arm because its so confusing he all of a sudden doesn't have one.

in all honesty zombie!toji should have been able to sense jogo if we are running with the theory he is programmed in that state to fight the strongest. sure megumi may have more potential than jogo but same could be said for dagon then. there was really no need for jogo show up at that point just to leave two minutes later.

nanami not dying to jogo/mahito. i appreciate how they did it and isolated i dont hate it tbh. its fitting although sad af. however choso's death and the subsequent power up yuji gets invalidates nanami's death/power up. Power ups from deaths are fine but it happening twice in pivotal moments is lazy writing. Nanami's death subsequently isn't as meaningful and choso's death (as his bro it is going to hit harder regardless). plus killing sukuna is way more substantial than than mahito.

given what happens later it also would have probably been good for megumi to realize thats his daddy back from the dead. maybe he realizes as toji's offing himself due to tid bits/things gojo or others have revealed to him in the past. but theres no other good time to do this before he becomes sukuna's vessel.

season 6 - culling games & gojo's release

explain in a less convoluted way idk how they are going to do this for anime cause i read the manga and bitch im STILL confused??

honestly though id say keep nanami alive tho just so he can meet higaruma because we need nanami + higaruma scenes they would fr be gojo and geto level besties istg.

would like a bit more on noritoshi kamo backstory and he seems to have this twisted fondness for his "children" so to speak so a bit more on that creepy mofo.

season 7 - prep for sukuna fight & sukuna gojo's fight

we skipped MONTHS here. wtf!? we need to see:

choso and yuji relationship

choso mourning yuki and realizing he probably wont be able to keep her promise as he has to protect yuji

yuji's training

maybe see more of sukuna's past

gojo reflection thoughts on all tf that has happened and his mental state.

season 8 - post gojo, current fight with sukuna

if nanami has to die he can go out fighting sukuna.

thats really all i have so far. the previous changes would make choso's death make more sense and although i hate it, it would serve its purpose more than an earlier nanami death.

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[in1-nutshell]

Can I request a scenerio where there's a version Ophelia that lives in the IDW verse? How would life be like for her in the IDW verse? What would IDW Megatron treat her before she eventually defected? And how would she react to Megatron in the trial giving a speech of how the decepticons are over? And how would they meet up eventually on the lost light?

YES!

Time to meet IDW Ophelia!

Hope you enjoy!

IDW Ophelia

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE/IDW

Megatron met Ophelia first while he was still a miner and before she even had a name.

After moving to a new location.

After not being able to find Terminus in time…

He had noticed her from afar at first.

She was one of the sparklings in the area that would try and sneak into the caves and steal a couple of shards of raw energon.

The angrier bots would try and catch her, but she always disappears into one of the ssmaller holes in the caverns.

There were a couple of the miners who hated the sparkling trying to steal their work, while others pitied the little thing trying to survive.

If she was lucky, a miner would casually ‘drop’ a shard.

Megatron was guilty of doing such an action.

Megatron pushing his cart and sees a pair of optics in one of the holes in the cavern. He knew those optics. The miner ‘accidentally' dropped a shard and kicked it near the hole. Megatron: “Go on little one.” A pair of small servos reach out and snatches the shard. The sparkling pokes their little helm out and gives him a small smile before going back.

She was the smallest sparkling he had ever seen and never seemed to get enough fueling.

The sparkling had seemed to take a liking to him too.

She seemed to follow him everywhere, even once he moved into the gladiator arenas, the small sparkling always seemed to find him.

He grew accustomed of having a tiny shadow running behind him after finding out she did follow him so far from the mines.

Megatron writing on a data pad. The sparkling sitting on the ground: “What are you writing?” Megatron pauses before looking down. Megatron: “I am writing to try and change the future of our world little one.” Sparkling tilts her helm: “It must be nice.” Megatron hands her one of his drafts. Megatron: “This is a draft for one of the writings I have done. You can read it if you like.” The sparkling looks down: “I can’t read.” Megatron blinks before scooping her up with one servo and plopping her on his lap. The sparkling looks at him curiously. He points to one of the glyphs. Megatron: “Can you repeat after me?” The sparkling smiled repeating the sounds that came out of his voice.

It was at that moment Megatron had decided to take the sparkling under his wing.

The gladiator would later introduce the sparkling to his companions and coworkers.

Some include Soundwave, Rumble, Frenzy, Impactor, Starscream and Orion Pax.

Orion was someone special to the sparkling.

Not only was Orion one of the best sparkling sitters he could ask for, but in many ways, his sparkling and Orion had similar mannerisms and actions.

Some joked around saying that the sparkling was Orion’s.

Megatron laughed at those as well because the pair did act a lot alike.

Megatron came to pick up his sparkling. He sees her perched on Orion shoulder’s holding his finals. Megatron: “Orion.” Orion and the sparkling turn to him at the same time, both sporting a similar happy look in their optics. Orion waved and the sparkling waved. Orion and the sparkling: “Megatron!” Megatron laughs at the confused look on both the bots faces when they realized they said the exact thing.

When Orion is not an option to look after her, Megatron leaves his sparkling with Soundwave.

The sparkling loves playing around with Soundwave and his minicons.

Ravage has already told the gladiator that Frenzy and Rumble were trying to convince Soundwave to keep the sparkling.

He doesn’t know what to feel about that, but he knows that his sparkling will be safe with them.

Fun fact: Megatron (before the war) did trust Starscream to look after his sparkling, but only for short amounts of time.

It is only for a short amount of time because of what happened the last time he left her with the Seeker.

Megatron coming back from talking with Orion. Starscream, Skywarp, and Thundercracker are all covered with oil, soot, and bits of rock. The sparkling happily slept in Starscream’s sub space. Elite Trine: “…” Megatron: “… Wh—” Starscream in a hushed voice: “Your sparkling is a menace.” Megatron: “What.” Starscream opens his sub space and passes him his clean sparkling before marching out the room. Megatron blinks readjusting his servo. The sparkling simply snuggles closer to his chassis. Megatron: “And what exactly happened?” Thundercracker: “I think its best if you don’t know.” Skywarp: “Just a lot of oil, rocks, buildings, and plenty of warping to put me out of commission till next solar cycle.”

When Megatron gets arrested, Orion is the one to come in and take care of the sparkling.

If she’d had gone with Soundwave or any bot who identified as a Decepticon, there was sure to be a target on the little one’s helm.

With Orion, thanks to their similar mannerisms could easily be seen as his sparkling.

The first few days, the sparkling constantly asks Orion where Megatron was.

He did eventually tell her where he was being held and why it was important to stay with him now.

The sparkling does take some time to get used to… everything, but with Orion’s help it becomes easier.

Orion takes the sparkling with him to meet other bots like Ratchet, Prowl, Chromedome, Jazz, and Roller.

In Senator Shockwave’s place for Outliers  Also known as the Cybertronian version of the X mansion. The sparkling is struggling to sit on one of the slabs in the lab. The Senator is giving Orion and Ratchet the tour of the lab while Chromedome, Skids, Roller, Windcharger, and Glitch are talking amongst themselves. Senator Shockwave patting a machine: “This machine can tell us a bots percentage of being an outlier.” Ratchet: “Why a percentage?” Senator Shockwave: “Because no one knows who an outlier is or when. Sometimes it takes years to even find—” BEEP BEEP! The screen read ONE PERCENTER. Senator Shockwave: “Roller do not touch the slab.” Roller: “I’m not touching the slab.” Everybody looks over at the small sparkling who had a happy smile finally getting onto the slab to sit. Everyone: “…” Senator Shockwave: “By the Matrix… Orion did you—” Orion goes over to pick her up. Orion: “No. And I have no doubt Megatron isn’t any of the wiser.” Roller pats the sparkling on the helm. Roller: “Welcome to the club little outlier.”

The pair had agreed to keep this new secret under wraps, at least until it was safer.

Orion did read to her bits of his manifestos as she was still learning who to read and write, which was coming along even faster with him around.

She loved hearing his voice while he read.

Once Megatron was released, Orion expected Megatron to come for his sparkling.

Yet, the mech didn’t show his face to him or his sparkling.

There wasn’t even any talk from the Decepticons about getting her back.

The sparkling knew this, yet she still patiently waited for her father to come back.

Orion coming back from work to see her by the window looking at the city. She looks over at him and gives him a tired smile. Orion puts his stuff down and takes a seat next to her. Silence. Orion hears a bit of a sniffle from the sparkling. The sparkling continued to look out the window: “Do… do you think he even remembers I exist anymore? It has been a long time…” Orion: “Of course he does. And I am sure he will be fighting any bot who tries to stop him from reuniting with you.” The sparkling clenches her servos: “Then why isn’t he here? Why hasn’t he sent Soundwave, or Ravage or even Starscream to come for me?! He’s been out long enough! Why isn’t he here!?” Orion gently places a servo on her shoulder. The sparkling immediately goes to his chassis and sobs: “Why?! Does he not want me? Why doesn’t he want me?! Orion why doesn’t he want me?” Orion pulls her into a hug and holds her close.

It isn’t long after this interaction that the war starts.

And the sparkling once again has to lose a guardian.

Thankfully this time she wasn’t alone.

It does take time for her to get used to Optimus Prime, but soon enough he becomes another guardian.

He wasn’t quite like Orion, but there was enough still in there.

She had been thinking about joining the Decepticons early in the war, being indecisive of which side to choose or to just leave the planet all together.

It isn’t until she meets Ultra Magnus that she chooses a side.

She chooses to be an Autobot.

She gets a mech suit built for her.

With the combination of the suits force and her outlier strength she soon becomes a powerhouse on the battlefield.

It became a ritual for most recruits to meet her and then see the real her.

That stopped quickly after a few bots defected to the Decepticon’s.

But she did it to the human allies.

Verity looking at the tall bot.   Verity: “Wow, you’re a big bot aren’t ya.” Springer and Impactor chuckle a bit. Impactor: “Hey kid, you hear that? Verity wants to meet you.” A pair of large optics looks down at the human. Suddenly the chassis of the bot opens and a minibot comes out. The minibot holds out her servo to Verity: “Hello, you must be Verity.” Verity blinks several times before placing her tiny hand in the bots larger one. Verity: “Yeah, I’m Verity. What’s your name?” The minibot looked at her: “I don’t exactly have one, but I accept any given nicknames.” Verity: “What? Why don’t you have a name?” Springer: “Its for safety reasons. Her father is a dangerous mech. If he ever got wind about her location—” Impactor: “The effects would be worse than Ironfist not being able to find his data pads, but at a global scale.” Verity: “So… really bad. Okay good to know… but what if you went by a different name? A name from Earth? That way your dad won’t be able to find ya and you have a name?” The minibot looked at her curiously: “I’ve gotten used to all the nicknames… what name did you have in mind?” Verity unslings her back bag trying to get her computer when a small book falls out. The minibot hands Verity back the book: “What is this?” Verity: “Oh its an old book a friend of mine lent. It called Hamlet—I GOT IT!” The bots jump from the sudden noise. Verity points at the minibot: “How does Ophelia?” The minibot tries saying the name: “Oophelia? Ophelia.” Ophelia smiles at the human picking her up and giving her a quick hug. Ophelia: “I love it!”

Ophelia was on Earth when she had received word that the war was over.

It felt so unreal finally hearing those words, that she stayed on Earth for a bit longer before returning to Cybertron.

It was on the way that she had also heard of Optimus taking time to go somewhere now that the war was over.

As sparkbroken as she was, Ophelia still decided to join the Lost Light.

It wasn’t like Cybertron had been her home anyways, maybe amongst the stars she would find a place worth calling home.

Ophelia kept the suit on for most of the time on board, only dawning it when trouble arose.

Part of her wishes she’d stay in the suit because the moment someone pointed out she was the youngest crew member, there always seemed to be something she couldn’t do because she was young.

Ophelia at Swerve sitting with Rodimus and Ultra Magnus about to order some drinks. Magnus: “Ophelia you cannot get that.” Ophelia: “Why not? It’s a good drink?” Magnus: “It contains engex.” Rodimus: “Relax Magnus. She’s old enough to take that drink. It’s just a bit.” Magnus: “Actually Rodimus, she is still young enough for the engex to affect her processor.” Rodimus: “Wait, you’re THAT young? How did you join the crew anyway?” Ophelia facepalming: “Like everyone else Rodimus. I signed a data pad, and I was cleared.” Later… Ophelia talking to Whirl about going to the range. Whirl: “You sure about that Itty? Don’t wanna scare ya or anything.” Ophelia slightly glared at Whirl’s joke. Ophelia: “Whirl you’ve seen me in action with the Wrecker’s. Going to the range is nothing in comparison.” Tailgate appearing out of nowhere: “Excuse me you’re going to the what?! The range is NOT a place where sparklings should be.” Ophelia: “I’m not a sparkling Tailgate!” Cyclonus: “Compared to everyone here you are Ophelia.” Ophelia: “I’m a 1 percenter. I could literally bench press several bot your size and not feel a thing, even more with the suit on.” Tailgate pats her helm: “Shhh…” Ophelia facepalms as the other minibot leads her away from the range and to his habsuite to listen to ‘real’ Cybertronian music.

Ophelia had insisted on staying on the ship when it docked on Cybertron.

 It was something that Rodimus needed to do apparently.

She was at Swerve’s when the news of Megatron renouncing Decepticonism came out.

The minibot didn’t know what to think of it.

Half over her rejoiced her father—Megatron, had found his way.

But the other was in conflict, a bit surprised that he was even online.

The moment Ophelia heard that HE was going to come aboard, she dawned her suit.

She needed to prepare for anything that came with his arrival, from an outburst to bots turning on her if they ever found out her relation with him.

Ophelia in the suit with Ultra Magnus at the ship’s entrance. Megatron was walking with Rodimus and several guards behind them. Ophelia felt the hungry sparkling that looked at him in fear and curiosity from her hole. She didn’t hear what Magnus and Rodimus had said but slowly offered her servo to him. Ophelia: “Welcome to the Lost Light Megatron.” Megatron looked at her suspiciously and then at her servo as if she laced it with poison. Hesitantly he gave it a quick shake. She nodded and showed him to his quarters, not noticing the felicon also boarding the ship.

[carlottawllms]

The Cursed Last Step

Ben Chilwell x Reader Fluff Word Count: 3.1 Mentions of injury

Another Ben one for the blurb/imagine series and I really hope you'll like it. It's based on a request I'll post seperately - anon, I hope this is what you wanted! :)

As always, feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! &lt;3

At the age of 18 you’d decided to go chasing your dreams in London instead of rotting away in the small village you’d grown up in. And it had been the best decision you could’ve ever made. It had made you grow and mature, you had made friends for life, graduated from university and got the job you’d been working towards for years.

And then it had also brought Ben into your life. Benjamin James Chilwell. He was a lot, footballer for Chelsea, an England international first and foremost, and then he was also a model and advertising partner.

But to you, he was just Ben.

Your support in good and bad times, your shoulder to cry on, your rock in every situation. He was your safe haven, your happy place and your person. Ben was your everything.

Last year, after a having been in a relationship for about a year and a half, you’d moved in together. A bit reluctantly, as his house was far above what you could afford, but wit the deal that you’d do the weekly grocery shopping as well as some of the insurances, you’d eventually agreed.

Ben had given you the freedom to add your own touches to the house to make it your home too and little by little, you’d added some decorative items, blankets and pillows, framed photographs as well as flowers in the rooms.

Of course, you hadn't just bought stuff and put it down, but had spoken to Ben to make sure he didn't think it was completely awful as it was still his house and you wanted him to feel comfortable as well. Only when he’d cleared you a room for your office, you’d simply done as you’d pleased.

Having lived on your own for a couple of years had paid off and you liked to think of yourself as an independent woman who didn’t shy away from doing manual things. Handicraft things in the house weren’t a problem, but rather a possibility to take your mind off of things and have a bit of fun.

It was one of your qualities that Ben was incredibly proud of, and never stopped mentioning it to friends and family. The chest of drawers in the hallway you’d built yourself? Ben kept talking about it as if it was a world first.

So, when you’d noticed the defective LED light bulb in the bathroom a few minutes ago, you hadn’t hesitated long and grabbed a replacement from the utility room.

A satisfied smile flitted across your face once the new bulb sat firmly in the light fixture and with your head already at what you’d make for lunch, you took the steps of the small ladder. It was your constant companion for these things as you were rather small and all things higher up were just about always out of reach.

Lost in a mental debate on whether sandwich or salad would be the choice for dinner, you forgot to watch the steps and the supposed last step was one too early. Instead of stepping on metal, you stepped into nothingness, lost your balance and in an attempt to save yourself, you twisted your ankle on the tiled floor.

“Aaah fucking hell.”, you hissed, as a pang of white-hot pain shot through your foot and brought tears to your eyes. With your vision blurred you just about managed to grab the edge of the bathroom counter when the room began to spin around you and slowly, with your back against the counter you slid down until you were sat on your bum.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You wanted to scream and cry, anything to alleviate the pain, but you desperately didn’t want Ben to know. He had enough on his plate already and you were a big girl, an independent woman who could go through this alone and see a doctor the next day.

You’d somehow make it through this day, you decided. It was your stubbornness and a little bit of pride speaking from you, but apart from that you were also embarrassed at how you’d ended up like this. Falling from a ladder because you’d missed a step felt pathetic.

And maybe it would get better throughout the day…But with your legs stretched out in front of you, you didn’t need to take a look at your left ankle to know it was bad. The searing pain was speaking for itself, burning in your ankle and flickering up your lower leg and yet, when you eventually dropped your gaze to your foot, you were quite shocked to see it swollen already.

“Shit.”, you hissed, head dropping back against the counter, and you angrily wiped the tear that just fell. How could you be stupid enough to fall from a ladder? You out of all people? You’d cut shelves with sharp saws, worked with drills and used knives in the kitchen every day. But a bloody ladder ended up being your worst nightmare?

If you weren’t in such pain, you surely would’ve laughed at the whole situation.

“y/n? You’re done up there?” Ben calling for you reminded you that he was still downstairs and waiting for you.

“Yeah, give me a minute and I’ll be downstairs.”, you replied in hopes your voice didn’t sound too strained. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hands and scrambled to your feet as best as you could.

In order for Ben not to get suspicious, you had to put on a brave face and act as if nothing was wrong, but the second you put a bit of weight on your foot, you were close to screaming. “Okay, y/n, get it together. You’ll be fine.”

The stairs were fortunately out of Ben's sight – if he was still in the living room that was – so you hopped down the steps as quietly as you could and once at the bottom, you held your breath as you placed your injured foot on the floor.

The walk towards the kitchen was pure and utter agony. You’d underestimated the pain and with every step you felt like you were going to collapse. Biting the insides of your cheeks to stop yourself from crying out, you walked as normal as you could whilst ignoring the tears brimming in your eyes.  

Deep down you knew the attempt at hiding such a big thing from Ben would be a futile one, as he would probably find out rather sooner than later, but you felt like you at least had to try. With his ACL and the following hamstring injury, he’d been through hell and back, physically and mentally. Something that was way worse than a stupidly twisted ankle and even though you knew he’d slap you silly for this thought, you felt pathetic and like you were in no position to complain to him out of all people.

But Ben being Ben didn’t take long to realise something was off with you. It wasn't your sudden change of mind about lunch, that irritated him. Swapping sandwich or salad for ordering in was typically you and he hadn't questioned it, but the fact that you were uncharacteristically lazy had him wondering.

You were just lounging on the sofa with your attention everywhere but on the unopened parcel by the door. It had arrived before you’d gone upstairs to change the lightbulb and whilst normally, you’d be up and opening it, you hadn’t given it so much as a glance.

Something else that bothered him was how far away from him you’d settled on the sofa. You loved cuddling as much as he did, always in his arms or on his chest, basically searching for his touch, but the second you’d joined him in the living room, you’d flopped down on the other side of the sofa.

For the last 10 to 15 minutes Ben had been searching even the furthest corners of his brain in hopes to find something he’d done wrong, but he hadn’t. “Do you want to join me walking Oscar? I want to leave in like 5.”

“I’d actually like to stay if that’s okay? I thought about making some cookies.” It was a bad excuse, a really bad one and Ben only confirmed that with furrowed brows. He knew you’d never say no to walking Oscar with him as you valued the peaceful time you got to spend together. You always told him how being outside with him, holding his hand and leaning your head against his shoulder, whilst taking the sun in and playing with your furry best friend was one of your favourite things to do, so you rejecting him right now, had the worry gnawing at his insides.

What if you were sick? But you would tell him, wouldn’t you?

Ben got up from his side of the sofa and walked over to where you were, eyes trained on your slightly slumped posture and his suspicions of something being wrong with you were confirmed the second he accidentally knocked his foot against yours. You flinched and when he tilted your head back with his finger beneath your chin, your eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” His heart broke at the sight of you all upset, but when he sat down and pulled you into his side, you immediately shook your head.

“It’s nothing Ben, I promise.” You somehow tried to control the trembling of your voice, but the pain in your foot got worse and worse. Especially because you couldn't put it up without Ben noticing.

“y/n, it’s obviously not nothing. Did I do something? Has something happened?” He cupped your cheek with his warm palm, thumb stroking softly over your cheekbone and you hated how he could see right through you. His soft green eyes stared into your own, worry swimming in his gaze and you knew you had to be honest with him.

“My ankle hurts a little, but it’s not that bad. Nothing to worry about.”, you waved off, trying to play it down as you really didn’t want to offload it onto his shoulders. He needed to focus on that opening game tomorrow.

But of course, he wasn't going to be fobbed off just like that. “Your ankle?”, he pressed, eyes already trailing down your leg, but from the way you’d positioned yourself he couldn’t see anything.

“I twisted it a little, but it’s really not that bad, Ben. I just don’t want to go outside for a walk now.”  

Ben didn’t believe a single word of what you said. He knew you wouldn’t be on the brink of tears if it wasn’t bad, and his presumption was confirmed the second he carefully grabbed your leg, accidentally causing you to yelp in pain, and put your foot into his leg.

“Jesus, y/n.”, he gasped at the sight of your visibly swollen ankle. A slightly blue bruise was forming already, and it didn’t take a doctor to see that something was really wrong. “When did this happen?”

“When I changed the lightbulb.”, you whispered in embarrassment as a tear rolled down your cheek, but you were quick in wiping it away with your sleeve. You hated being like this in front of him. “I misjudged the last step on the ladder, kind of fell on my ankle and twisted it. It’s not too bad, I’ll go and see a doctor tomorrow if it’s not better or something, I-“

“y/n.” Ben forced you to return his worried gaze as he cupped your cheek with his hand again. “Why didn’t you tell me? Baby, you’re obviously in a lot of pain and you’ve been walking on it.”

“I just…I didn’t want to tell you.”

“You didn’t want to tell me?” You hated to see the disappointment and hurt flicker through his eyes, but you still nodded. “But why?”

“It’s just…you’ve been through so much pain with your ACL and then the hamstring…like you’ve been through so much worse, I just felt pathetic for crying because of a twisted ankle and-“

“Stop.” Ben interrupted you gently, but sternly with an incredulous expression in his wide eyes. His heart had dropped into his stomach, not quite believing you hadn’t wanted to tell him because of his injury history. “You didn’t tell me because of my injuries? Love, this is not some sort of competition where one injury tops another. Don’t belittle you pain just because it’s not a ruptured ACL or something.”

He dipped down and brushed his lips against yours softly before pulling back. “I’d never think you’re pathetic or overdramatic y/n. You could have a little cut on your finger, and I’d worry as much as you do whenever I’m hurt because I care about you and want you to be okay, yeah?”

With his thumb, he gently brushed over your cheekbone, trying to stay patient and give you a moment to calm down. He knew that putting the foot up helped a little already as the blood wasn’t constantly rushing down and making the throbbing worse, but you still had to be assessed. For your own sake – and his.

“Thank you, Ben.”, you whispered. “I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just didn’t want you to worry and instead focus on tomorrow. It’s a big game.”

Ben sent you a fond smile, heart squeezing in his chest at your thoughtfulness. He knew that you and him were the same, always putting the other first and trying to get things without bothering the other, but his ACL injury had taught him a lot about letting others – especially you – in and relying on people for help.

No one was invincible and sometimes help from someone else was the only way to get through it.

“I know baby, but don’t do that again okay? I don’t care if it’s the first game of the season, the Champions League final or anything else. You come first, always. I’d give up any chance on a title if that meant you’re okay, yeah?”

You nodded sheepishly, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Sorry. Next time I’ll talk to you. Although I hope there won’t be a next time cause this hurts like a bitch.”, you chuckled, and as much as Ben hated to hear that, he was relieved you finally admitted in how much pain you were.

“I’ll send a pic to Dimi and see what he says. Maybe he’s still at Cobham and we can go and see him, then you-“

“Ben, I don’t want to be a burden. He’s the club doctor, I’m sure he has better things to do than to take care of a player’s girlfriend a day before a game.”, you interrupted.

You’d met the English man a couple of times when you’d picked up Ben at the training ground as he still kept a close eye on your boyfriend to make sure everything was okay. He was a kind man and you knew he’d say yes to looking at your foot, but you didn’t want to bother him with a silly injury like yours.

“None of that, baby. He’s told us several times that whenever we or our partners have a problem we can call him.”, Ben told you as he grabbed his phone and before you could protest more, he’d already taken the photo and was typing on his phone.

You sighed in defeat, knowing there was nothing that could change his mind and once he was done typing, Ben went to the kitchen to grab a package of frozen peas for you. As he was back on the sofa, he helped you settle with your back against his chest before handing you the frozen package he’d wrapped into a tea towel.

“Thank you, Ben.”, you whispered, head falling into his chest as the pain started to make you feel a little tired.

“I just want you to be okay and taken care of, y/n. There’s no need to thank me.”, he smiled and pressed a small kiss to the top of your head. “I know you feel like you’re putting something on my shoulders with your injury, but it doesn’t feel like that to me, you know? When I’d done my ACL and then later the hamstring, you didn’t hesitate for a second to switch to working from home, driving me to tests and physio sessions and so much more. Back then, you gave up a part of your life to be able to support me and I wouldn’t have made it without you. You were – and still are – my rock and safe haven and I just want to be the same for you.”

His kind words had tears springing to your eyes and you cuddled a little more into his chest, as Ben tightened his arms around you.

“Just let me be there for you, y/n.” Ben laced his fingers through yours, thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand.

“I love you so much, Ben.”, you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak up properly, but when he squeezed your hand and kissed your head again, you knew he’d heard.

“I love you more, y/n.”

Normally, you’d never leave it at that, but the exhaustion was catching up with you. Your eyes fell close and with the even beat of Ben’s heart you were slowly drifting off.

For a while, Ben just held you close to himself, watching the way you drifted in and out of consciousness. He could see whenever a new wave of pain rolled through you and woke you up again and eventually after another 30 minutes, his phone vibrated.

“y/n, love?” Ben brushed through your hair in an attempt to wake you up carefully. “Dimi’s just messaged me, we can get you checked at Cobham.”

-

Your injury turned out to be a severe ligament sprain, leaving you on crutches for a couple of weeks and Ben made sure to never leave your side unless he had to.

And whenever you asked him to help you with something and that pretty smiled appeared on his face, you finally understood that being there for you meant as much to him as being there for him had meant to you.

__________

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You would make my day if you left a little feedback so I can see what you liked and what I can improve on 🩷

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

I always thought it was strange that Philip donated his diary to the library. The book literally contains information on how to create a portal.Luz was only able to create a defective portal, but still a portal, imagine what would have happened if it had fallen into the hands of a very intelligent witch. That would have complicated his plans even more. I know that the book was stored in the Forbidden Stacks with other forgotten books and that the chances of someone getting the book were very low. But the risk was still very high, and we're talking about the super genius who discovered quantum mechanics in the 1700s.

Philip Fucking Wittebane: I'm going to donate my diary with important information on how to create a portal and I mentioned the existence of an unknown entity to a bookstore that is run by the vile creature that I hate so much for no apparent reason! It's not like there are intelligent witches who can steal your life's work to cause trouble!

I understand that Luz needs the diary to advance the plot, but a puritan witch hunter donating a book with important information to a library with beings he hates for unknown reasons is very difficult to digest.

The only theory I've heard that could explain this is the Stable Time Loop one: Philip needs Luz and Lilith to go back in time to look for him and help him get the Collector disc. This means that in Elsewhere and Elsewhen, he realizes that the Crab Maiden and Aunt Gertrude are actually time travelers who used his diary, they help him obtain the disc, so to ensure that the duo arrive in the first place, Philip has to leave his diary in a public yet secure setting, hence the library.

It is a risky move, especially since at any point in time it could've been lost, stolen, or as you said, used to build a different portal. And as we saw in the show, the echo mouse ate a good chunk of it. Fortunately, it was an echo mouse and not some other critter. But I guess that was a risk Philip knew he had to take.

My problem is that the narrative ties in ALL of Luz's season 3 arc to this one episode and how she feels guilty about it when she really shouldn't. Within the episode itself, Lilith did most of the work by solving the puzzle, Luz was just bait. Philip had been working on getting the Collector disc for probably months and he even had a complex teleportation glyph to get to the Titan skull. This guy was prepared, he just needed people gullible yet smart enough to help him. If it weren't for Luz and Lilith, then someone else would've been the sacrifice. The Collector disc would still be found. He already found 3 of the 4 glyphs (which apparently, Titan magic is incredibly rare and difficult to see!), so Luz showing him the light glyph doesn't really have any long term effects.

The same is true for her "helping" find the Collector. It was bound to happen eventually because the narrative ties everything evil back to Belos while the other characters are mere victims of him. All she did was save him time and effort and frankly, that's not enough to justify 3 long episodes of wangsting. All it is is a convoluted way to make the hero "help" the villain while still making them the purest example of victimhood possible.

Lastly, the narrative NEVER brings up Lilith's involvement; there's never a moment that the two realize that they were played and how terrible they would feel that they played a part in the Collector's destruction (only for Eda to conk their heads together, tell them to stop moping, and take this Collector kid down).

It's all about how Luz feels and then is given 4 different conclusions that she apparently doesn't learn from: Hunter tells her it's not her fault because Belos always uses people (the fact that the boy who was just possessed and had his best friend killed has to emotionally support her is sickening to me), her mom tells her it's okay to make mistakes and that she made a mistake in not allowing Luz to be who she was, (to which she responds that all she wanted was to be understood. Not sure how that connects to her guilt but whatever), Luz thinks her friends secretly hate her for helping Belos so she might as well be him (but then she snaps out of this when Puppet Amity misquotes Azura.........ok then), and finally, Papa Titan validates her by calling her a Good Witch and that Belos is just a big ol' meanie.

This isn't an arc, this is a series of characters coddling her but she doesn't take any of their words to heart until God herself intervenes. There's this huge imbalance between what the character did and how they react to it and the narrative wastes so much time on an arc that just makes Luz feel selfish and just serves to demonstrate how little she's grown as a character.