#and you're surprised by the amount of people and leave when so many are so egotistical regarding the content they want to engage with
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hey, people! friendly reminder that artists, be they fanart artists or writers, do see the criticism you write on their posts and the vagueposting on certain social medias and it is not fucking okay. you have to remember that these content creators are people too, the very same way you are, and that they create content because they like engaging with a certain fandom.
i know i made a post about this a while ago when zar left the fandom but this post really made me realize how entitled people are in regards to consuming fandom material. fanart artists, the very same way writers do, get better over time, and many people in fandom, maybe not the majority, but still a good part, are amateur artists, and most of them are still looking for an artstyle that fits them. i joined this fandom in 2019, and i was really young back then. with experience, artists get better. or maybe they won't! that's fine too; however, this kind of criticism is both harmful and unasked for.
you are not entitled to anything. you consume media that people put out on the internet for free, and yet you're acting as if people are supposed to great godsent art; (fanart) artists and writers, listen to me. you do not owe the people who engage with your content anything. you decide what you want to do, and you should not feel pressured and obligated to do things you don't want to.
this fandom is really demanding towards the content creators they consider to be "good", and ignoring, to cite the previously linked post, the "mid" ones.
you decide what content you engage with. is it not your cup of tea? is it something that is not visually pleasing to you, or writing that is, by your standards, not good enough? do you just not like it? do not fucking engage with it. do not make other people feel bad about their art just because you don't like it. please, for the love of everything, understand that content is not created for you, and that people will not always produce the content you like. just scroll down; it's that simple.
#and please for the love of god understand these people don't owe you anything#it's your choice what kind of content you engage with and like i said these people don't owe you anything#and just because you don't like the content they create doesn't mean you have to be a dick towards them#and you're surprised by the amount of people and leave when so many are so egotistical regarding the content they want to engage with#in order to change this you have to understand that the way you act and the way you consume is a problem and you have to work on yourself#and improve your responses to the art that is given to you for free like people who take time to do what they're doing#like your consuming this media that people put out for free and yet you still complain about the way that this media is put out for you#please for the love of everything understand that your actions have consequences#marauders fandom#fandom rant#fandom discussion#fandom discourse
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i have a name | l.s
a/n: so this is an idea i had after the miami gp and its been stuck in my head so im finally writing it. there is some slight jos slander and reader is max's sister
summary: y/n verstappen drives for f1 academy. they find comfort in a certain american when the media gets too much
Your whole life you've always been Max's sister. You didn't hate your brother for it because it wasn't his fault. You hated the world for being so small minded. You hated your dad for not caring. His words stuck in your head like a broken record. 'You're overreacting Y/N. It's not a big deal. You need to grow up.'
But it was a big deal because why couldn't they be bothered to learn your name. Your accomplishments throughout your career always amounted to 'Max's sister' it was never 'Y/N Verstappen'. You were sure if they could your trophies would say that too.
Going into the F1 Academy you thought it'd be different. You were excited when you got the call. The first person you told was Max and he was even more excited than you, if that was even possible. You were at the forefront of the series, watching young girls across the world become interested in the sport you loved. Something you wished you had growing up.
The driving was great. The team was great. Everything was great except the media. Its the one thing you dreaded stepping into the spotlight more. You tried to develop a thick skin like your brother but it was difficult when you constantly got picked at.
"So, Y/N, great day today. You qualified third. How was it?" The interviewer asked.
"Yeah it was great. Obviously we'd prefer P1 but we're still happy with the result and looking forward to pushing it even more tomorrow." You replied, grinning at your result. It might not be front of the grid but you were still proud.
"Your brother Max had a phenomenal season last year. Can we expect the same this year?" And there it was. Your first interview of the weekend and it only took one question before they asked you about your brother. Normally you didn't mind talking about Max's accomplishments. You were so unbelievably proud of him. It's when they start talking about him when they should be asking you about your race and your season that you get annoyed.
You plastered on your fake smile, hoping no one saw the disappointment flash across your face. "It's hard to say what this year will bring but what I do know is that Max will give it his everything. Whatever happens though I'm still proud of him."
Before anymore questions about Max could be asked your manager made a sign that time was up. You thanked the interviewer and left the media pen. She gave you a run down of tomorrows schedule as you were now finished for the day. Your manager didn't need to ask if you were okay because she knew you weren't. Working with you for a few years meant she had learnt all your tells.
You thanked her for today before parting ways, leaving you alone. The night air was brisk but welcoming. You shut your eyes and sighed enjoying the silence. You were supposed to be meeting Max tonight yet you couldn't bring yourself to move. Not wanting to face him just yet.
It was late and you weren't expecting many people left at the grid. Especially the F1 drivers which was why you jumped when a voice broke the silence. "Y/N right?" Logan said, your stomach fluttered when you looked at him. You have never really spoken to Logan before, only seeing him in passing but you always thought he was cute. He also called you by your name and not 'Max's sister' which was a welcomed surprise, used to his friends calling you that. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."
"It's fine, just wasn't expecting anyone to be left at the track." You told him. You took in his appearance under the setting sun. He was in his Williams uniform, his hair slightly tousled from wearing his hat all day.
"Yeah, I was just heading out. Had to do a few tweaks before tomorrow. What are you doing here late?" He asked.
"Media." You grimaced. Logan laughed, understanding your reaction.
"That bad huh?"
"Yep." You nodded. "Talked about Max the whole time."
The two of slowly started walking towards the car you have rented this weekend. It was one of the few left in the parking lot. "Seriously? That's so shit." Logan said, shaking his head. It wasn't out of pity though, more like anger.
"You get used to it." You shrugged.
"You shouldn't have to though." He told you, pulling you both to a stop. His eyes, looking at you intensely making you nervous. "You were incredible out there today and I'll definitely be watching tomorrow as you get your first podium of the season."
"Wait, you watched qualifying?" You asked, surprised.
"Don't tell my trainer though." Logan grinned, winking at you making you laugh. It was a sound he could get used to.
"Well thank you Logan. It means a lot." You thanked him, coming to a stop when you reached the drivers seat door.
"You have a name, Y/N. Your not just Max Verstappen's sister and I hope you know that." He said, earnestly.
You don't know what came over you but you found yourself leaning up, pressing a kiss on Logan's cheek. "Thank you."
-x-
"You're late." Was all Max said as you walked through your hotel room door. You kicked off your shoes, walking further into the room seeing your brother lying on your freshly made bed scrolling on his phone.
"Don't you have a sim race or something?" You asked, shoving his feet off your bed trying to change the subject because what else can you say? The reason you were late was the slight breakdown you had about the interview and then you bumped into Logan. You couldn't exactly tell Max that.
He playfully stuck his middle finger up at you, knowing you were making fun of him. "How was your day anyway? Excited for tomorrow?"
"Yeah it was good." You lied. You liked that Max was oblivious sometimes because it meant you didn't have to talk about what people said about you. However, you also hated his obliviousness because sometimes you wanted your brother to comfort you. "Hopefully people won't get sick of the Dutch national anthem." You grinned at Max who laughed loudly.
You asked Max about his day and he told you about how confident he was with this years car, excited to see what he can get out of it. He carried on talking as you got out of your team uniform and into some comfy clothes when he quietened down.
"When were you going to tell me?" Max asked when you exited the bathroom. "About what the interviewer said?"
"It's fine Max." You said, avoiding his gaze on you by putting your clothes away. You were afraid if you looked at him the dam would break.
"It's not fine, Y/N." He huffed, his voice raising out of anger. It wasn't aimed at you though, Max would never raise his voice at you. "It was so unprofessional. Not to mention the commentators today couldn't even be bothered to learn your name. I'm going to do something about it."
Max's reaction reminded you of Logan's. You didn't think anyone would care this much. Especially someone who you never really had a conversation with before. You knew it was pointless to ask Max to leave it alone so you didn't bother. "Just please don't do anything stupid."
"When have I ever done that?" Max asked and you laughed. You would run out of fingers if you counted all the times Max did something stupid.
It was getting late and you and Max said your goodbyes, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Instead of the video on repeat in your head it was Logan's words. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it, going straight to instagram to find Logan's profile. You hit follow before going to his dms.
Y/N:
Thank you again for tonight.
His response was quick making your stomach flutter.
Logan:
You don't need to keep thanking me Y/N
Y/N:
I know
I enjoyed talking to you tonight
So thank you for your company 😊
Logan:
I enjoyed talking to you too 😊
I hope we can do it again some time
You were sure you were grinning like an idiot but you didn't care. You had fallen for the American and hard.
Y/N:
I would love to ☺️
Good luck for tomorrow Logan 💙
Logan:
Good luck Y/N 😊
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Neighbor! König
Probably can't write a full series for this but for now HEADCANNONS
He initially moved to a residential/suburban area because of his need for privacy. He couldn't stand being in barracks provided because it's too close for comfort and there's just too many people and not enough room
He grew up in a rural village which he would really, greatly prefer but his job doesn't allow him to have that amount of space and no neighbors. The upkeep would be too much
While he doesn't have the full amount of space he'd like, it's enough to keep him busy when he's not deployed and grant him the piece of mind he needs
When he's home and in his 'residential/domestic' mode, he's not wearing the mask. That's a quick way to signal him out and lets be real, it sets off red flags. He'd rather not have the police called on what looks like a very suspicious man, thanks.
Not wearing the mask is also a good way for him to come off of 'work' mode, where he can just be himself, no covering that up.
Plus it's for safety. He knows he's taking a risk by living off of base and he's a man with many enemies. Wearing something trademarked to him in an unprepared environment is a dumb idea and is a great way to end up six feet under
His front yard is pretty minimal but he has a lovely garden in the back. Half the reason he settled on the house that he did was because of the mature trees in the backyard that reminded him of home
When you moved in, König - as much as he didn't want to, made the move to introduce himself. The main motivator wasn't out of politeness but rather necessity. Since he's away for so long, he gives out his personal number and email just in case something happens with the house
He's genuinely surprised when you react positively and even ask if there's anything he'd like you to do when he's away (like collecting his mail, watering any plants)
He's so stumped by that, not having expected such hospitality, that when you ask for his name as you enter in his contact info, his brain short circuits. He tells you it's Kevin, because it's the first K name he could think of that wasn't distinctly Germanic.
Also he doesn't want to bring anyone into his work life. He moved out into the suburbs for a reason. König is who he is on field, that's his callsign. And, once again - safety reasons. If he went around, telling people who he was, he's asking to get another target painted on his back
Though you two initially don't really talk much, you still wave when you see him or wish him a good morning. Even if he's blunt and usually brusque, you never mind it and always try to make polite conversation while respecting his boundaries and need for space
Seeing each other in the mornings becomes routine. You're up for work while he's up tending to his garden (it's better to water early morning, he insists)
He's slow to warm up but when he finally does, he's surprisingly talkative
He really opened up to you because you showed express interest in his garden and flowers alike. You always listened to his advice or would ask specific questions to get him talking and when it came to explaining things, he could talk and talk and talk
The moment he was won over though was when you asked if he'd like help weeding his garden. Taking care of it was therapeutic to him (as tedious as it might be) and wanting to actually come over and spend time with him, even if it was a "chore" made him feel something that day
Being allowed into his yard, his botanical sanctuary, is as great of an award as you can get
He finds it significantly easier to talk when his hands are busy and when there can always be things to talk about (mainly his plants, he's so proud)
You learn of his plants, the fact that he's a private contractor (he conveniently leaves out the military part), and he'll start to actually talk about himself instead of avoiding questions for once
If it weren't from exertion reddening his face already, he's sure he would've turned as red as his tomatoes when you inquired about the off handed comment about his miniatures collection
No one had ever asked him about them - or actually taken them seriously. He's used to people making fun of such hobbies
But not you, you embraced him
Seeing your face light up with amazement and hearing your specific comments about the details he made in replicas of things such as his hometown and some of the fairytale stories he liked as a kid officially had his heart feeling the warm, fuzzy feelings that he usually ignored
The next morning, he was already planting your favorite flowers in his front yard 🪻
(Part Two)
(Part Three)
#call of duty#cod#cod modern warfare#call of duty x reader#konig x reader#konig mw2#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig x you#könig x reader#könig cod#könig call of duty#cod fanfic#cod x reader#reader insert#gender neutral reader#cod headcanons#konig headcanons#könig headcanons#call of duty x you#neighbor! König
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hear me out…. one of fratboy!chris’ ex fwbs runs into him and shy!reader at a party and she makes it very clear she misses sex with him
how are they both reacting?
you can't help but stare at her in awe. she is gorgeous.
cherry. that's her name — or rather, her nickname. all thanks to her vibrant red hair and big breasts that fit so perfectly in her low-cut dress.
you know you probably look a bit silly, standing beside chris in the crowded kitchen, your mouth agape and eyes sparkling as you watch how she carries herself with an intoxicating confidence.
her red lips curl into a sultry smile as she gazes at chris, her perfectly applied fake lashes fluttering as she speaks to him. you watch, mesmerised, as she leans in closer, placing a hand on chris' shoulder, her fingers lingering just a moment too longer as she whispers something in his ear. he nods, reaching into his pocket to grab whatever she asked for, and the sight suddenly twists your stomach into knots.
when her eyes finally dart toward you, your heart races. you straighten your back instinctively and offer her a polite smile as she tilts her head slightly, seemingly sizing you up.
"hi," she greets, her tone short and blunt, but you barely register it.
"hello." you kindly introduce yourself, hastily adding your name at the end, hoping to make a good impression. "you're really pretty."
"thanks." her tone is blunt again, and while the straightforwardness of her reply should sting, it barely registers in your mind; you're too consumed by her beauty, trying to comprehend how someone so stunning could be standing right in front of you.
"how do you know chris?" you ask, trying your best to keep the conversation flowing despite your social awkwardness.
"we used to fuck." the way she says it makes you blink, recoiling slightly. there's a sharpness in her tone that leaves you feeling unsettled, and a frown threatens to break across your lips — not because you're surprised by what she said, you're fully aware of how many people chris had slept with before you.
it's the way in which she delivers the information that feels off, leaving a strange feeling within you that you can't quite pinpoint.
"that's... that's cool, yeah," you murmur awkwardly, your admiration rapidly overshadowed by an uncomfortable tension. the intensity of her gaze makes you feel small, and you instinctively shuffle closer to chris' side, as if you're seeking out help or comfort.
chris remains silent, completely unfazed as he pulls a baggy filled with pink, heart-shaped pills from his pocket and hands them to cherry, who immediately breaks into a smile, her fingers lingering in his grasp just a moment too long.
"you're the best, as always," cherry says, her voice going back to that sultry tone as she leans in closer, her gaze fixed on chris. "am i still allowed to pay for this a different way or...?"
"nah, pills went up a lot since last time. s'gonna cost you," chris says as he holds out his hand with a nonchalant grin. "pay up."
"come on.. you know money isn't always the better payment." her tone is playful now, yet there's an underlying intensity that makes your stomach churn, and you swallow thickly, unsure on how to react with seeing this happen right in front of your eyes.
"i need the money." chris doesn't back down, his expression now firm as he still holds out his hand. cherry hesitates, her jaw tightening, the playful glint in her eye momentarily dimming as she reaches into her purse, retrieving a handful of cash and slamming a few hefty dollar bills into his palm.
your eyes wide at the amount you see — more than you originally expected for just a few miniature pills, and you're unable to contain your curiosity as you accidentally blurt out, "how much are the pills?"
"why?" chris snaps back his usual response when you ask about these things. he rolls up the bills and shoves them into his pocket with practiced ease, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. "don't get any funny ideas, kid, or i swear—"
"s'just a lot of money..." you speak in awe, your gaze darting from the cash in his pocket to his eyes, searching for an understanding. "that's, like, a lot."
chris blinks, the corner of his lips twitching upward ever so slightly at your expression. "well, yeah.. its fuckin' drugs."
"i used to pay for it a different way, right?" cherry chimes in, her voice smooth and enticing. to be honest, you did forget for a brief moment that she was still here with you, and your head turns towards her, but her focused is locked on chris. "i still should, to be honest — you always liked it that way."
"yeah, i did," chris hums in agreement, and you shift uncomfortably beside him, chewing on your bottom lip as a wave of anxiety washes over you.
"do you still have those blue ones we used to take together?" she asks him, but her focus now shifts to you. "we used to get high together all the time, and the way he would move his hips when we fucked? it was something else."
you catch a glimpse of the smug, proud grin on chris' face from the corner of your eye, and a rush of discomfort floods your system, twisting your insides. the feelings bubbling up inside you are confusing, leaving your head spinning as if you've had three beers too many.
"i don't have that shit anymore, wasn't doin' good." chris confesses, pulling out a joint and fishing for his lighter, his nonchalance only making it worse for you.
"you still have my number right?" cherry asks, her voice low and inviting. "if you start selling it again, you should give me a call.. you know i'll be there."
as chris strikes the lighter, the flame flickers to life, igniting his joint as he looks at cherry — holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary as he takes a hit, holding it in his lungs before releasing the smoke in a slow, deliberate exhale.
"yeah, a'ight. i will." he drawls, and your heart races as you watch cherry smirk at him, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face before she gracefully walks off, her hips swaying as she disappears into the crowd.
you swallow hard again, glancing up at chris, who's still staring in the direction cherry left as he takes another hit. you want to ask him what that was all about, to try for answers, but the words catch in your throat. it's not your place to question him, yet the urge to understand still lingers.
but, to your surprise, chris lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he pulls out his phone. "m'gonna run her money so fuckin' bad," he hums, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes flick to you. "she's not gonna know what hit her, kid."
#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris#☆ shy!reader#☆ fratboy!chris x shy!reader#★ ⋮ sturniolo hours !#★ ⋮ chris hours !
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Dragon King!Bakugou, who spent many night in secret with you before finally proposing, marrying you within the month after.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who is worried you’ll feel pressured to do the after-marriage consummation ritual, so he doesn’t bring it up. But his soreness certainly do—with good intentions, of course.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who makes sure the night is perfect, having spent the day preparing everything, making sure the room was arranged to his liking. The room you two had spent so many nights before had transformed, practically gleaming with the flicker of firelight from candles and scented incense. Soft silk sheets laid over the king's bed, the room filled with the sweet scent of roses. Even a small table filled with fruit and water to replenish energy midway through sits at the beside.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who waited for you in the room patiently and calmly, but internally freaked out. After all, he was nervous about preforming this ritual with you. Not just because not most people lived through having sex with dragon royalty (yes that idea came from the webtoon The Dragon Kings Bride), but because it was you.
Dragon King!Bakugou, whose eyes immediately widened once you entered the room. They drank in the traditional consummation nightgown you had been fitted into, consisting of silky white lace that hugged every contour of your body. The bodice of the dress embroidered with elaborate patterns, the material dipping low on your chest, revealing a tantalizing amount of skin. The back of the gown completely exposed, the delicate lace wrapping around to the front in the form of a tie. Your hair adorned in flowers of his favorite variety.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who has a traditional consummation outfit of his own, a set of clothing that could only be described as borderline ancient. A simple robe of deep red and black silk drapes his shoulders, leaving his toned chest exposed. Loose, dark silk pants of the same material hang low on his hips. His arms completely bare, showcasing the intricate tattoos that wrapped around them in swirling designs. His servants had even taken the time to weave a strand of pearls through his hair. The overall image he portrays can only be described as dangerously attractive.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who informs you without a second thought that you look like a goddess. When your reply is ‘don’t insult the deities like that’, he smirks and steps closer. “Careful, my lady. Blasphemy is a very serious offense."
Dragon King!Bakugou, who sees your nervousness and guides you to the bed, hand in yours.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who lays you down on the scarlet silk sheets with a surprising gentleness for being the King of dragons.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who smiles upon hearing your a virgin, his response mumbled it or he skin of your neck as his calloused fingers brush over you collarbone, taking down the nightgown. "So, you're a virgin, my lady. The gods have clearly favored me tonight."
Dragon King!Bakugou, who starts off slow with kissing and touching, only to find out your maids had done him the favor of recommending you don’t wear underwear in the first place
Dragon King!Bakugou, who fucks you so hard your left gasping and begging, even as he tries to do it slowly so he won’t kill you.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who in the morning is left with a very alive you, curled up naked in his arms.
Dragon King!Bakugou, who opens the door with a surprisingly happy look on his face, only to find the entire castle staff waiting to hear if you’re alive or not, raising an eyebrow lazily. “Calm down. They aren’t dead. They’re…they’re fine. A little sore, but otherwise fine.”
Dragon King!Bakugou, who falls in love on sight with the little baby prince that exists nine months later as proof of the ritual having worked.
#mha#my hero academia#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x you#bakugou mha#dragon king bakugou#mha bakugou#bakugou x you#bnha fanfiction
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☼ whisper of the beast (Finnick Odair) ☼
summary; on your own, you try to find your boyfriend in the arena. instead, you run across something much, much worse.
warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehhh gore, blood mention.
wc; 2.5k
prompt; 11. "Just keep breathing. In and out. You're doing great."
—
There is something seriously horrifying going on with this arena, and each time you think you get close to figuring it out—it changes.
The only consistent factor in each of your theories is the jungle, and that’s because it’s the root of the fear. When you travel through the greenery for long periods of time, a creeping feeling grows on you, one that you can’t shake unless you make your way back to the beach.
Which is far from safe, itself. Especially since there are nine other tributes alive here, roaming around, hunting for lone victors. For it only being the second day of the Games, it’s remarkable that so many are dead, already. With six of them dying today, alone.
It makes you think that you’re being overly paranoid, because you’re out here by yourself. It’s a completely new experience to you. The first time around, during your Games, the Career alliance lasted up until the very last second. You never had to keep an eye out for yourself, because you had others with you that were doing the same thing.
You were under the impression that you’d be doing that for these Games, too, but nothing has gone according to plan. You and Finnick had a long discussion the night of the interviews on what to expect regarding corralling Katniss and Peeta into the alliance. Neither of you thought it would be easy. Worst case scenario, you’d grab one and he’d get the other, and the two of you would meet up somewhere in the middle.
The Gamemakers really must have it out for you this year, determined to keep you and Finnick apart. That’s why they decided to put you on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, keeping you from seeing Finnick. While also putting Brutus in your water wedge, to ensure that you wouldn’t be able to reach him.
By the time you fought off Brutus and got to the Cornucopia, all three of them were gone. The only option you had left was to wait for Johanna and Blight, but with them still in the water and the Careers coming to take over, you had to leave. There wasn’t a choice in the matter.
Since, you’ve spent your time traveling through the jungle and taking the occasional rest on the beach, in the hopes that you’ll run across your boyfriend. The search was casual yesterday, as you were more worried about finding drinking water than the rebel alliance. Now that the numbers are spiraling, you know that the rescue plan is right around the corner.
You’re confident enough to say that they won’t do it today, but it’s got to be tomorrow or the day after. They won’t have Katniss and Peeta openly in danger like this for longer than they have to. You likely have less than forty-eight hours to find them, or else you’ll get trapped in here and taken by the Capitol.
You would say that you wish you had a general idea on which direction they went in yesterday, but it probably won’t make much of a difference. With the amount of people dying in these trees, you’re sure Finnick is directing them the opposite way, just in case.
It’s another reason why you can’t stand to be in the jungle for long periods of time. From what you’ve gathered, at least half of the tributes that have died today so far, have come from somewhere in the trees. It makes you think that something is out here, and it’s more than just a rogue tribute.
In fact, it would make more sense for it to be a mutt of some kind. In the last Quarter Quell, they were everywhere. There was not a single animal that a tribute could trust to be friendly. On top of that, there were aspects of the arena that took them by surprise.
It appeared to be the most breathtaking place imaginable. The Cornucopia was in the middle of a vibrantly green meadow, the sky a perfect blue, with fluffy white clouds. In the distance, there was a snow capped mountain, one that looked straight out of a picture book. On the other side, a healthy forest with plants you couldn’t name.
Of course, it was all too good to be true. The mountain was revealed to be a deadly volcano, the plants were poisonous, the water was infected with a disease, the insects stung and the flowers could kill when inhaled too closely. Everything that was placed in that arena was working against them.
Who’s to say it’s not the same for this one?
You pause next to a nearby tree to rest your feet, because they’re throbbing in your shoes. You lift one, stretching your thigh, feeling the immediate relief that comes with being off the foot. After a minute, you switch, but it doesn’t feel as good this time around.
When you reach up to run a hand through your hair to smooth it back, you find that your scalp is wet, soaked from sweating so much. It feels much hotter today than it was yesterday, like the Gamemakers are trying to boil you alive. It’s brutal enough being in here, do they really need to make it any worse?
You dip your head, eyes closed while you take a deep breath, sighing it out. You return to walking, paying attention to where you place your feet.
It might make more sense for you to go down to the beach and wait for Finnick, Katniss and Peeta to show up. The issue is that you’re not willing to take the risk of the Careers spotting you while you’re down there. The four of them could easily get you pinned down. You’ll be dead before you can call for help.
A branch rustling behind you makes your next step stutter. Your eyes widen, as you slowly look across the fern in front of you, to the left of your vision. With sensitive ears, you adjust the spear in your hand, turning your body halfway to look behind you, at the tree you were just standing at.
There’s nothing.
You take a minute to search the trees around you, backtracking to get a better look. Even if it’s just a critter, you want to know. If there’s living animals out here, that means there’s a water source—and you won’t have to depend on your sponsors to keep you hydrated.
There’s not a trace. At least, that’s what you think, until your eyes catch the hoof print in the mud. Your face contorts, you drop into a crouch to get closer, curious on what could’ve made a mark like this. As far as your knowledge on the jungle goes, there shouldn’t be anything that could leave this behind.
The goosebumps that crawl up your arms are involuntary, stomach dropping. The safety blanket that the jungle had been providing seconds ago, is gone now. There’s something in here with you, and it was smart enough to run when it made noise.
You raise your head, thinking about the best way to handle this situation, when your heart seizes in your chest.
What the fuck is that.
In one fluid movement, you jump to your feet, turning in the direction of the beach, and beginning to sprint down the slope. A screech cuts through the previously quiet air, piercing your ears enough to make you wince at the pitch.
And then you can hear it galloping behind you, hands and feet pounding against the spongy jungle ground. A scream rises in your throat, terrified to look behind you to see how fast this thing actually is.
You take the chance when you swing around a tree, stealing a glance over your shoulder.
Whatever it is, it’s demonic.
You’ve never seen anything like it. It’s coming at you on all fours, there’s hooves where its feet should be, with long and pointed nails on its fingers. Its fur is so black that you can’t make out where its eyes are, or if it has any skin exposed at all. It’s a beast straight out of one of your nightmares.
It isn’t fast by any means, but it’s not slow, either.
You can hear it tearing up a path behind you, trampling through the bushes, ripping bark off trees. As the path between the trees narrows, the jungle becomes more condensed. You hear less of it coming in contact with the ground, thumping replacing the noise.
Until it stops altogether.
Your instincts take over, jerking to the right, shoulder slamming into the tree. You watch in silence as the beast flies by where you were a second ago, claws out and ready to latch on. It comes into contact with the ground about ten feet away, head whipping unnaturally to see over its shoulder.
“No, no!” You let out, beginning to weave through the trees.
A snarl rips through its throat at the idea of you outsmarting it. It’s coming for you, and there’s nothing you can do besides run for your life and dodge it each time it tries to attack.
You play this game for what feels like an hour, but it can’t be more than twenty minutes. You make it half a mile down the slope, knowing that the beach can’t be that far away from where you are, when you realize that it’s gone. The monster that has been chasing you has given up.
You lean over your knees, mouth watering, throat beginning to close. As you gasp for air, your body tries to expel some of the heat by making you sweat, but all that’s doing is making you sick. You think you might throw up.
Right as you’ve come to terms with losing all the water and food in your body, spit falling from your mouth in long strings, a shadow on the ground grows larger. Your face twists, thinking that something must be falling, like a leaf.
It hits you, literally, flattening you against the ground, head hitting the dirt. It digs in, nails cutting through skin as it tears through your back and arms, shredding your jumpsuit. A scream leaves your lips, a white hot and blinding pain smothering you all at once.
Your hand tightens around the spear, cheek against Earth as the beast presses into your shoulders, keeping you from moving. Still, with the small amount of mobility you have, you swing the head of the spear up, toward yourself, narrowly missing your left shoulder.
It lodges into the beast, causing it to roar in pain. You shove the pole further back, hoping that it pushes into its body deeper. The weight on your shoulders disappears, you can hear it stumbling away.
In the window you have, you get back to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain your entire backside is in. You just need to make it to the beach, it’s not that far away, you’ve covered this distance in your sleep before. It’s harder to do, though, when every hard step you take makes you grit your teeth to keep from crying out.
The beast is catching up with you, recovering from its wound. It’s faster than you are, and it’s completely disregarding everything in its path. Nothing can slow it down. You can see the golden sand through the trees, you’re almost there.
A body jumps out from behind a bush, making you run into it. For a moment, you’re sure that it’s an exact replica of the monster behind you, but once you realize that you’re staring at another tribute jumpsuit, the panic subsides. But only for a second.
“Move!” You shriek, trying to get around him. He grabs the sides of your arms, holding you there.
You look up, finding that you’re standing face to face with the male tribute from Ten—someone who is not part of the rebel alliance, and doesn’t care whether or not you make it out alive. When you glance over your shoulder, you can see that the beast is getting closer. It’s not going to stop until it gets its hands on somebody.
And it won’t be you.
The only choice you have is to sacrifice him, so that’s exactly what you do. You jerk him around, switching places with him, forcing his back to the beast. His eyes widen, mouth opening to say something, when you pull back from him, lifting your leg to kick him in the chest.
The beast takes him gratefully, landing on his back. He stumbles forward, struggling under the weight of the beast. You watch in horror as its jaws unhinge, revealing razor sharp teeth. It throws its head back, before whipping forward, mouth securing around the tribute’s neck.
And with no resistance, he rips out a chunk of the flesh. A spray of blood hits you in the face, and it coats the jungle floor. You back away with wide eyes, watching as Ten’s legs can’t hold him up anymore, body collapsing in the dirt beneath the beast.
A cannon fires.
You turn, making the final push for the beach before it can come after you, too.
The moment your feet hit the sand, it begins to drag you down, keeping you from running as far away as your mind is screaming for you to go. You make it a few feet before landing on your hands and knees, sucking in sharp breaths and letting them out aggressively.
That was almost you. That could’ve been you.
You try to crawl, hands forming in fists in the sand, tears falling from your eyes.
“(Y/n)?” You hear. There’s a headache forming, black spots coming to eat away at the corners of your vision. “(Y/n), hey.”
A hand touching your lower back makes you swing a hand up to get them off. Your wrist is caught, eyes meeting Finnick’s, finding him worried.
“You’re okay, honey. I’m right here.” He pulls at your elbow to make you sit up on your knees.
You grab onto his shoulder, struggling to breathe, “It—it… The—”
Finnick takes your hand placing it against his chest. “Follow me.” He takes a deep breath, you try to follow, stuttering. He blows it out, you sob. “Come on, (Y/n). Just keep breathing. In and out.” You mimic his breaths, allowing them to even out. “You’re doing great.”
“Finnick.” You cry, head falling forward.
He cups your face with both hands, lifting your head. He’s only a couple inches away from you. “You’re safe with me, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Do you want to tell me what’s in there?”
You look away, eyes too intense to stare into. “A monster.”
--
this was part of my 3k celebration!!
#ilguna#finnick odair#finnick odair imagine#finnick odair fanfic#finnick odair oneshot#finnick odair x reader#finnick odair x you#finnick odair x yn#finnick odair x y/n#finnick imagine#finnick oneshot#finnick fanfic#finnick x reader#finnick x you#finnick x yn#finnick x y/n#thg#the hunger games#3k celebration#angst#requested
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Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs
— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.
— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore
Semi Part 2 For Dottore: Ttorschlusspanik [Masterlist]
I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...
Tartaglia
While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!
By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.
It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.
It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?
Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.
As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.
"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"
Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.
"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"
He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.
"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.
"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.
Kaveh
You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.
He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.
So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.
It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.
It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.
He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.
When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.
"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.
"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.
"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.
"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.
"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.
Ayato
To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.
It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.
It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.
Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.
He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.
If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.
There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.
"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.
"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.
"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.
"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."
"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."
"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.
"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"
"Only because you're here."
Alhaitham
You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.
To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.
No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.
Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.
It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.
As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.
"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.
"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.
"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.
"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.
Dottore
You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.
You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.
You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.
Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.
You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.
You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.
The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.
"Where have you been?"
For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.
"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.
"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.
"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.
"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"
He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.
"As if you would have anywhere to go."
———
[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
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#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin impact headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin impact imagines#genshin childe x reader#genshin kaveh x reader#genshin ayato x reader#genshin alhaitham x reader#genshin dottore x reader#childe x reader#kaveh x reader#ayato x reader#alhaitham x reader#dottore x reader#genshin childe#genshin kaveh#genshin ayato#genshin alhaitham#genshin dottore#childe#kaveh#ayato#al haitham#dottore
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Hey! I'm not a botanist, but I'm in circles where it's a bigger thing and I'm kind of curious about something.
So, from an outsider's perspective, the genus Garcinia has a lot of weird and messy classifications. For example, common species like G. intermedia and G. gardneriana are really similar to Garcinia brasiliensis, to the point that it's pretty controversial if they're actually separate species. The Garcinia species colloquially known as "achachairú" also appears to bear a lot of similarities to that trio (although much less than they share with each other), HOWEVER it's almost exclusively referred to (in cultivation and in studies) as G. humilis, a Carribean species with small oval-shaped leaves, despite actually having very long lanceolate leaves and being exclusively found in the Andean foothills of Bolivia. Also, multiple frequently cultivated species like Luc's garcinia and Russell's sweet garcinia haven't actually been described yet, despite for example the former having a decent amount of scientific interest and frequent genetic testing done on it.
All of these odd classification things and even more others have been pretty well known in my circles for the past 15 years-ish, but still nobody seems anywhere close to a conclusion for them. How long does it usually take for a genus to get organized when it has as many species as Garcinia does? And how do they do it? Do they go around testing every single species or only a few at a time? If a species is currently not named, do the same people usually describe them as part this endeavor, or just leave them for somebody else? I saw Plinia and Artocarpus recently got reshuffled a lot because of some prominent genetic studies on them, and several new species and even genera were added, but it just seems alien to me how stuff like that even ends up happening. There are so many plants out there!
Sorry if I'm asking the wrong person here, but I've been wondering about how this stuff will eventually be resolved for yeeeearrs
There are so many plants out there!
ok im kind of surprised i can offer a few possible answers to this question despite having never heard of this but i think i can. if the question is 'why aren't some plants actually described', this is the primary reason why.
when i was in plant anatomy class in college, the person teaching us was a plant anatomist who assigned us different plants from the greenhouse to dissect and describe in a paper for her, and she told us that we might find something that hadn't been described before, which was pretty shocking to me. what do you mean i could potentially find a new-to-science thing? has nobody in history looked at this plant that's just growing in the greenhouse upstairs??
what she said was that no, sometimes not. there are so many plants out there that it's difficult to do one exact in-depth description and published examination of each species, so what botanists end up doing is doing or finding one in-depth examination of one species in a specific group and assuming that all the others in the group are at least similar, if not the same. which is good because it saves time and works as a shorthand, especially if there's not much funding, but also sometimes it has the potential to overlook more nuanced differences that can go undiscovered for a long time. but that's just botanical species in the conventional sense, which i don't think is as straightforward in what you're describing.
another answer to this question that's more specific to the species you're talking about here is that plants are having sex. they have so so so soooo much sex. few things they enjoy more to be honest. and given that the most conventional (but not only) definition for different species is 'can't have sex with other species because it's too different from them', the lines get blurrier to deal with, and one thing botanists do when the lines between species get too blurry (because of all the sex) is to just assume that they're all part of some kind of hard-to-describe genetic soup with individual plants falling along gradients or spectrums of similarities or differences, and in this case you'll see botanists just name the most prominent species among them and call it the '[most common suspect] complex', which groups together all the ones that happen to be having sex with each other at the same time, just to make them easier to talk about. this typically doesn't mean that they're species-less, but more that they can be thought of as a group with a few distinct points where they can look very distinct, and those points are the species, if that makes sense; see the citrus sex graph at the end for an example.
i also see from a cursory google search that people seem to be planting and eating these in a more widespread way, and people are talking about them on forums and stuff. this is one of the cases in botany where things get tricky, because a person looking for traits in a fruit that's having tons of sex might not actually be looking for the same things botanists are looking for when describing a species-- it might seem easiest to just find which species or few species are the tastiest and grow those, but if it's a genetic soup then all you can really do is do it the old fashioned way and breed individual plants for the traits you want. which, who knows, could end up being a hybrid between all of them.
case in point: again i am not completely up to date with the lore here but i found a forum thread where people were debating which species to plant and the consensus was just to plant multiple species at once, which is fine but is also really funny given that it DOES facilitate even more sex, thus blurring the lines even further and-- if the posters decide to plant the resulting seeds from the fruits-- will create even MORE hybrid plants of no discernible concrete species in the plant soup. the hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid of a hybrid or whatnot. when does one stop calling it a hybrid between two species and start calling it 'the tree in grandma's backyard that's the tastiest of the berries i've tried'? that is the question, truly, one humanity has had for millennia in the search for the tastiest berry, and at that point it might just be easier to call it a variety or cultivar, which are horticultural terms for just that-- a distinct 'kind' among the same species that taste good subjectively and can be reliably rebred and harvested, like all the apple varieties people debate about.
another reason is that plant phylogenies are hard and brain-twisting and plant taxonomists and systemisists are among our strongest warriors. it's not uncommon at all in botany to be researching something and to find out it's been reshuffled because of a new breakthrough on the case a bunch of people more qualified on the subject decided made more sense like a decades later. sometimes species themselves will even change names multiple times if it turns out that it was described earlier by someone else considering the new circumstances. if you're a really unlucky or just controversial plant all this can happen over and over again until, finally, the trees of math have been resolved in a way that makes sense. how long will it take? surely there is a concrete end to the madness? nah. lol
finally, if you're looking into studies on this, you should know that some phylogeny stuff is opinion-based or subjective, especially at first. what counts as a new group for one group of researchers might not count as one for another. so when you see stuff where people are inventing new categorizations or genuses or whatnot or merging multiple ones together spontaneously, it'll depend on how well supported their reasoning is and what the evidence seems to show, and the larger community of plant taxonomists will, overtime, decide what they want to do with that information-- which may include verifying it or refuting it with more evidence. what researchers are proposing when they split stuff off or merge it together is a new or updated model for thinking about existing information, and that model may be more or less useful than the existing one for the means of actually learning more about the plants.
anyway in short there are lots of reasons why this might not be sorted out and the more sex these plants have the longer it's gonna take. i'm strongly reminded of that one citrus sex graph (its this one) (screenshotted to see it on night mode):
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Hii! I loved your platonic Genshin kidnapped child reader so, could I ask for Platonic Honkai star rail men when their child is kidnapped?
★ A/N: Yep, you can. Here you go, hope this is alright!
☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial
★ Format: HeadCannons (Characters Included (Separate): Sampo, Blade, Argenti + Gepard)
☆ Warnings: Mentions and hints of kidnapping // Mentions of death (In Blades one)
★ Extra: Reader is shorter then most characters (They're about 6-7 age wise) // Characters are single dads // Semi Proof-Read // Short
Sampo is a con man, and he's made many people dislike him, many people want revenge on whatever he did. He knows this, however he never thought those people would resort to kidnapping his own kid to do so.
Look, you can hurt him, you can ruin his reputation, you can do whatever. But to kidnap you just because of your association with him is where he draws the line. As soon as he gets word on what happened he's finding out your location straight away.
And as soon as he knows it, he'll find a way to get you back and the perpetrators won't know what hit them until they wake up to find you gone and a note from the man himself, Sampo Koski.
Blade is pissed. Sure he may not always have time for you however he cares for you a lot. You are his kid, and once word gets to him that you're kidnapped? He is tracking you down no matter how long it takes or the amount of bodies gets left in his trail to find you.
He gets SilverWolf to help track your location and as soon as he knows he's off to get you. He only has to pray to whatever Aeons that you're blindfolded as he's not wasting a minute in hearing the cries of mercy, they don't deserve it.
Once he gets you home he inspects you to make sure you're fine, to ensure you're not hurt. He never lets you leave his sight after that, or anyone's for that matter. If he must leave for a mission he asks for the other members or even Elio to take care of you until he returns.
Argenti truly loves and protects you. As a knight he does this incredibly well so when someone successfully kidnaps you he's more than surprised. He puts a halt in his search for Idrila as looking for his child is far more important in this moment and time.
He isn't sure what he did to get someone to want to kidnap you or if all they want is money. But he will track you down, if they want money then he'll give it to them. However if you are hurt upon returning to him or they still refuse to give you back then he isn't afraid to put up a fight.
He won't go too far, he'll merely knock them out and call the appropriate authorities to take them away. He understands that whatever happened shook you. Scared you, so he'll spend more time with you to try and take your mind off things, take you out to various planets to shop. His search for Idrila can wait. For now YOU are his priority
I feel like Gepard oftens leaves you with Serval when he's out on duty. So the chances of you getting kidnapped are rather low as you have an auntie to protect you, not to mention the Silvermane Guards outside her workshop and how I feel Serval would make small guard robots.
So it comes to a surprise when he finds out you've been kidnapped. He doesn't bother asking questions, for now he quickly gathers a search party and gets others to ask around as he investigates the workshop. Perhaps you were kidnapped by a worker of Serval, this gives Gepard a good idea and he searches the houses of said worker.
Once he finds where you are, he wastes no time in arresting them and anyone else who happens to be in there as he quickly goes to your side to check on your wellbeing. He takes you to the doctors to get you checked up and once you're confirmed to be okay he's relieved.
Bronya gives him a few days off so he can spend time with you, it also gives him time to figure out how to ensure this won't happen again. He still trusts Serval to look after you, and she's already making sure to be careful who she lets work with her but he wants to be doubly sure nothing will happen to you again.
I need Blades banner to go so I'm not tempted to pull for his LC. I need Loucha.
#honkai star rail#hsr#hsr x reader#hsr x you#honkai star rail x reader#hsr imagines#honkai star rail x you#platonic hsr#hsr platonic#Sampo x Reader#Sampo x You#Gepard x Reader#Gepard x You#Blade x Reader#Blade x You#Argenti x Reader#Argenti x You#🎭 masked fools
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b.katsuki x reader (fem) | pro hero!dynamight x famous singer!reader a.n; lol a lil something that came to my mind while listening to ariana grande - love me harder <3
thinking about Hero Dynamight getting the mission to protect the new rising star singer that had received several harsh death threads.
he hates it. despises the fact that he will have to babysit a young singer. he thinks–oh no, he knows this is vengeance from his own company for all the times he caused havoc himself. so, he doesn't have a choice. he has to do it.
even though he knows he should have searched for your name and your case, he doesn't. call it arrogance or petty behavior, he doesn't care shit about it. so he goes blind into the airport to wait for your arrival. but as time goes by, more and more people start to gather around and before he actually realizes it, the airport is fucking packed with reporters and fans all around. there's too many fucking people. he even sees round face, deku and half and half bastard at a distance... AS FANS. losers.
but shit, so you're bigger than what he thought.
the doors open, and the amount of screams and yells deafen him. he immediately turns his hearing aids off, afraid he’ll go deafer than he already is thanks to his quirk. when he looks up, there you come walking with a big bunch of bulky bodyguards surrounding you in a circle, yet they are useless against the amount of people trying to reach out to you. it’s fucking chaos, and for him to admit that when he has seen chaos right to its eyes, it’s a lot.
he received instructions to stay away, to just interfere if things get heavy. but damn, it is already heavily chaotic enough, specially when something or someone makes you trip. and that’s it. he starts pushing extras away to get closer to you, and as people recognize him in his hero gear and suit, they start moving away on their own will, cuz he is fucking Hero Dynamight.
your bodyguards help him with pushing more people away as he finally reaches you. without saying anything, he picks you up bridal style and starts walking towards the exit door of the airport to the special black van waiting for you. it gets easier to walk, thanks to how scared most people are of him. Hero Dynamight is the most respected and feared Hero of them all, because if paparazzis don’t leave him alone, he’d blow their cameras off. simple as that.
that’s how you met Hero Dynamight for the first time. you were told a professional hero would accompany you for the rest of your tour due to some threads some people were sending you. on your opinion, it was nothing new, nothing your team of bodyguards couldn’t handle. however, if your manager thought that you needed a freaking Pro Hero in that team, it probably was more serious than you thought. so you said yes. now, of all the heroes around the world, you could not have guessed this massive man, all big and authoritative –and freaking handsome– was the Hero Dynamight most of your fans shipped you with.
and as Hero Dynamight walked out of the airport with you in his arms, you could already read the fanfictions.
“T-thank you, I’m-...” you speak to him as he sits you on the back seat of the van. you feel weird, tingly and excited all over. you didn’t expect at all for him to do that. in fact, you were expecting to meet him at the hotel, where your manager told you he would wait for your arrival in the country.
but he cuts you off, saying, “Next time, watch where you walk, idiot,” and with that he closes the door of the van. but not before you could hear him grunt under his breath, “fucking extras, annoying pieces of sh-...”
you can’t help yourself but to think: wow, what a jerk.
you learned very quickly how a pain in the ass he could be. and how insanely attractive you found his attitude.
don't get me wrong, you'd still fight him tooth and nail when he is being an idiot. but damn, he is so handsome.
as time goes by and Katsuki gets to see you perform live, he gets to admit it.
Bakugou is… surprised. he is surprised by the exceptional talent you have as you perform your songs, with complicated choreos and still having perfect rhythm to sing live. he is impressed. very much so.
he stands there, on the side of the stage, arms closed over his chest and paying attention to everything and everyone around you.
and then, the song he likes the most from you starts. he frowns, confused. it wasn’t in your list for this tour, he knows it by memory already. But as you begin singing, you turn to the side, right where he is standing, and as you sing you look right at him and smile.
oh. his eyes open wide. you are singing it, for him. to him.
he feels heat in his cheeks. and a warmth in his chest that makes his whole body tingle. fuck, he's down bad.
#mha fanfiction#bnha fanfiction#mha bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou x reader#mha bakugou x reader#mha fluff#bnha fluff#mha scenario#mha drabbles#mha imagines#bnha scenarios#bnha imagines#bnha drabbles#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki fluff#bakugou katsuki x you#mha x reader#mha x you#mha x y/n#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n#mha bakugou katsuki x reader#bnha bakugou katsuki x reader
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as the saying goes: with every high, comes a low
kenan yıldız x reader
A/N: writing this brought back both good memories and ptsd from the euros 🥲🥲 based on this request, thank you for requesting 🤍🤍 also this is so sappyyy, guess who’s in her feels? 😛
W/C: 1.090
ninety minutes of straight-up torture.
a small fifteen-minute break to calm your pounding heart down, before it starts heavily thumping against your rib cage again.
you wouldn’t be surprised if you dropped onto the floor due to the amount of times your heart rate had skyrocketed.
anxiety and anticipation.
the only words that could describe your mental state in the moment.
losing a match was painful, but even more painful after turkey had been doing so well in the tournament.
as the partner of a football player, you carried your own sadness, and your boyfriend’s sadness.
you bite your lip when the referee ends the match. enough to draw a small amount of blood. the metallic taste fills your mouth, and makes you feel even more horrible.
the chants of the turkey supporters had been non-stop since the start of the game. at first full of joy, then encouragement, then slowly trailing off to tears and disappointment.
even so, everyone had an incredible sense of pride in their hearts for their country. no matter the loss.
when you're given the go-ahead, all family members and friends of the turkey players make their way out of their seats.
you hurry as you go down, your heart aching as you imagine all of the disappointment and anger brewing in your lover’s heart.
when you finally reach him, kenan immediately pulls you into a private room. without a word, his arms wrap around your back, and he buries his handsome face in the crook of your neck.
feeling his breath hit your skin, you sigh shakily. not caring about his sweaty hair and body, you reach up to run your hand down his back.
"are you okay?"
of course, he wasn't, but you could barely register how fast the team had lost control of the match. let alone form a coherent, comforting thought.
you rake your unoccupied hand through his hair, your heart beating in your ears as you try to find the words to comfort your boyfriend.
though, his lack of response told you enough.
after a long stretch of silence, you start spilling your thoughts. licking your dry lips before speaking.
"I'm so fucking proud of you, kenan.."
the words leave your mouth with deep emotion. followed by a tremble of your lip as you try to keep your tears at bay.
"whatever people say, whatever anyone says doesn't matter. you worked so fucking hard, you put your entire soul and body into it. that's what matters. you tried, and I know you did your best.."
you pause as a shaky sigh leaves kenan's mouth. his athletic body pressing into yours, the smell of sweat, notes of his musky cologne, and your perfume creating a familiar atmosphere.
your heart breaks when you hear a small sniffle. your eyes closing as you hold back your own tears.
"you can cry. it's okay, cry it out. I know it hurts, baby.." you whisper, finally feeling hot tears hit your own cheeks, as his transfer down your neck.
"I worked so hard. so many nights and days- and this is the performance I put on when my team, and my entire country is leaning on me!.."
"shh, don't blame yourself, honey. I know it will sound cliché, but you did your absolute best. you can’t do more than your best, baby..”
you pause to pat his back, tears messing up your makeup, and making your nose run.
"it was going so well, you guys created so many chances. it was just an unlucky second half.."
"to have something in the palm of my hand, and then to just lose it within twenty minutes- hurts so fucking bad.." his shoulders shake with the painful sobs. the emotion expressed by your boyfriend causing a soft whimper to leave your own mouth.
"never ever think that the entire thing was on you. It was destined to be like this. as humans, we will learn and grow, even if we don’t see immediate results.."
kenan moves his head to look at you, your heart practically cracking at the sadness on his face.
the hopeless look in his beautiful brown eyes, the irritation of his soft skin- and the fastened pace of his pulse.
"why are you crying?" he asks, and you can swear he starts crying harder after seeing the tears on your face.
"because, you're hurting. don't ever want you to feel bad or upset.." your voice cracks, and you tighten your grip on the fabric of his training jacket.
"fuck. don't you ever cry over me, baby.." kenan rasps, cupping your cheek with his roughened palm. both your eyes visibly red and irritated from the salty tears.
"how can I not?" you question, before pulling his head into your neck again. cradling the back of his head, as you hug each other as tightly as humanly possible.
"i love you so much. your joy is mine. so how can your hurt not be mine?" you ask, raking your fingers through his hair.
"i love you too. so bad it kills me to see you cry over me.." he chokes out, his fingers curling around your body, holding you incredibly close against his warm skin.
you hold each other for a couple of minutes, the only sound in the room being the cold air conditioning, and the sound of your combined sobs.
you can hear kenan take a deep, stuttering breath, before he speaks.
"we’re such crybabies.."
his voice is raw, but thick with fondness and warmth..
your lover always knew how to lighten up the mood, while others could never do so in similar situations.
you chuckle a little through tears, pulling back to look at him. you raise your hand to wipe the tears on kenan's cheeks, his bloodshot eyes on yours.
pushing back his hair, you expose his forehead, wiping away the rest of the moisture with your sleeve.
"your eyes are all red.." you comment, knowing you probably looked the exact same.
"what do you need when we get back to the hotel? a bath? a cuddle? good food?" you inquire, wanting to provide him the best comfort you could offer.
you watch him take a breath before he speaks, and he whips out a tissue from his pocket, before dabbing at the tears on your face.
he was so gentle and thoughtful, like always.
"I just need you. I just need my sweet baby next to me, and everything will be alright.."
#kenan yildiz x reader#kenan yildiz imagines#kenan yildiz#kenan yıldız#Kenan#juventus#juve#football blurb#footballer x reader#football imagines#football fanfic#football imagine#football#euros 2024#turkiye nt
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Any of your demon OC’s reaction to being summoned but the magic feels powerful so when they get there they expect maybe a collection of wizards but instead it is a very drunk person(reader) who seems very confused but also isn’t against having this very attractive demon in their house.
[I mean, at this rate you could just summon an Icon. But let's not go there yet. Why not Vorago?]
The difference between Vorago and many other demons is that, most of the time, he's ready to be summoned. As the firstborn of Queen Vorticia, he has to be available for a myriad of public contact and more nitty-gritty transactions that his Mother is all too happy to distribute between her many children. The eldest takes on even more work than necessary, purely to train himself for the future, wherein he may rule Gluttony.
So, when Vorago senses a rift opening with a request for him, the royal glutton merely brushes his outfit, adjusts his mane, and stands appropriately, waiting to be transported. It's no shock to him that a rather surprising amount of magic is used during these instances, you do not simply summon a royal without obtaining much training in the field, or on your own for that matter. While the process takes place, Vorago searches his head for who this might be. The blood signature utilized doesn't ring any bells, so it might be a first contact summoning. Giving a good impression is more important than ever if that truly is the case.
Vorago steps into the rift with an adequately serious expression and a hand behind his back, expecting some kind of fanfare or overzealous greeting.
There are few words to describe his confusion at the sight that greets him. Astonishing, really, as he considers himself verbose.
The prince finds himself in a rather homely, completely informal setting. Someone's house, he deduces, given the smells present, the well-worn furniture. No group, no organization, no sect, not even a pair is there to receive him, only one human.
He sniffs.
One very intoxicated human.
He can only wonder what's happening to you, where you hail from. How you've gotten to this point.
The glutton stares hard at you. Something that another summoner may find rude of him, but you're hardly composed enough to notice. There's no incredible, burning desire within you. You don't stink of desperation and madness, you aren't covered in sin.
You're just a human woman, meddling with what most definitely doesn't concern someone like you.
" ... O- " You finally seem to notice there's someone else in the room. " Oh? "
" Oh. " Vorago parrots, feeling a brand new crease form on his forehead.
Silent moments pass.
You really should blink more, he assumes your eyes are losing moisture from the moments where you stare at him blankly, like a donkey.
" I suppose, when you're sober, you'll gather the wits to grovel... "
Vorago isn't particularly cruel, but he'd be a bad example if he allowed summoners to think they can get away with this type of behavior. To summon a demon of royalty while entirely shitfaced is to cause great offense to said royal lineage. It can warrant more than death, it could set curses upon your loved ones. Vorago understands mistakes happen, but humans of all people, are too frail to afford these grievous acts of buffoonery.
So he needs to cause a healthy amount of panic in you, which he will, when you become sober.
" Hhmn? " You sluggishly tilt your head.
The firstborn takes a few steps forward on the borderline nonexistent circle you've thrown together on the ground. It's more of a misshapen oval, with not a tenth of the power you'd require to keep him properly contained. Really, Vorago could blow it away with a sigh.
He squats, using his hands to gesture and speaking slowly, the same tactics he'd use to make his toddler-aged siblings pay attention.
" Human. Listen closely. " No self-respecting prince would be stooping this low. " Now that you have made the mistake of summoning me, we need to establish a formal deal, so that I can leave. "
You don't offer much of a reaction for a while. Vorago sincerely wants to slap the back of your head. Though he imagines you'd tumble face first in a graceless display of alcoholism.
He can only tense hard when you spread your arms and latch onto his shoulders, running clumsy hands through his thick hair.
" Hahah... Hah. You're sooo cute. You should stick around. "
You're so fucking wasted.
The glutton is speechless, face darkening. He allows himself to feel this for a few seconds, ideas suddenly swirling in his head while an admittedly pretty human plays with his hair. The large demonoid shivers slightly. You'd look even better if you weren't so visibly drunk. For as much as he craves and writes about this type of contact between monster (demon) and human, he's never had the pleasure of experiencing it firsthand.
A small eternity passes before he forces himself to pry your small -Delicate, so fragile, so soft- hands away and rises.
" Any suggestions, summoner? " His tail swishes.
A grin tries to settle on your cheeks, it's struggling. " You. Me. The couch. "
Vorago has to run a hand down his complexion and breathe in deep. Oh trust him, that couch wouldn't survive. Still, this is no way to try his hand at charming a beautiful person.
" No. " He chastises. " I have a proposal. Do you read, human? "
This could backfire very hard. He knows this.
" Ehh, yeah, I guess. " You shrug. " Sometimes. When my favorite authors upload. "
Upload. The top eye in Vorago's head widens, his hope shining clearly.
" Then let's do the following. I provide you with written works, and, in turn, you act as a proof-reader, letting me know what I could adjust. "
Particularly how accurate his portrayal of humans and the opposite gender is.
" You write?! "
He almost feels offended that you're so surprised. " Yes. "
" Fuck yeah! "
He chuckles purely from how ridiculous this is getting.
Vorago nods, using a foot to disrupt the summoning circle and leaning down with an outstretched hand, the other reaching for a vial on his coat pocket.
" Brilliant. Allow me to collect your blood signature then. " Because you're too shitfaced to sign anything, he presumes. " You will be contacted so we can schedule our first meeting. "
Well, he thinks happily, no one can accuse him of having no references now.
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Vox NSFW Headcannons
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
One would think he wouldn't know what aftercare was, considering he'd lived with Valentino for so long. However, sleeping with Vox was pleasantly surprising. He is very attentive after sex, and you wondered if it was something he carried over from his time alive. Water is always by the bedside, and it gets you snacks if needed or even a hot or cold compress. Sometimes, his screen can get really bright, and he has a custom-made sleeping mask just for you if you get overstimulated after sex.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Vox: He likes his claws; he can be delicate with them, but they can get the work done when necessary.
You: Vox loves your skin; he likes how fragile you feel beneath his fingers.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Unlike many others in Hell, I think Vox is one of the rare men who doesn’t have a raging breeding kink. As long as you both get off, he doesn’t really care where he cums, inside or out. Although…on your face always paints a pretty picture.
His cum is thick and sticky and has a blue bioluminescence feature to it. Like you're (literally) turning on a computer. He cums a lot and has a shorter refractory period than most.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He wants to tie you up in the cables in his ‘lair’. His wires snug around your body accentuating the right parts. Vox would have full control of you, your body, and your movement. The millions of cameras in his lair would be pointed on you and set to record so he never misses a moment of you being ravaged. The way your fucked out face would appear on the millions of screens in front of you both would leave him with enough material to jack off alone for an entire year.
He also absolutely has stolen several pairs of your underwear.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Vox absolutely knows what he’s doing, he’s been with Valentino of all people. As fucked up as Val’s kinks are he has taught Vox a significant amount of his skills.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Cowgirl.
It’s no secret that this man gets turned on my power. Usually specifically his own, he likes being in control. **BUT** when you take control and top him he’s GONE. Insanely turned on at how you ride him into the ground.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Vox is absolutely not goofy in bed. He’s more serious, he can be a bit snarky with you both quipping back and forth but he takes it seriously. Especially after being with Valentino where sex meant so little, now he treats it like love making.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
So. He has a TV for a head. So, carpets will never match the drapes. I think he wouldn’t have a lot (or any) hair.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
He’s learned to be more romantic as the two of you progressed your relationship. Again going from Valentino to you was whiplash. At first he assumed you’d like the same stuff his ex liked but that was not the case, especially for your first time sleeping with one another.
Now he’s very romantic. He leaves you flowers every time he enters your room in the tower. When he has to leave for work he always sets up a little breakfast for you. In bed he’s much more attentive than he was at the beginning.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Oh boy, does he. He usually does it when you're not available for an extended period. If you were there, he'd much rather bury himself in your dripping pussy.
That being said, Vox absolutely has a shrine of things he’s stolen from you, mainly your panties. He uses them to jerk off, either fisting his dick with your underwear wrapped around his hand or pressing the crotch to his screen, taking in the scent of you. Other things in the shrine include your perfume, your rings, and a picture of you covered in a blue substance. The only other time he masturbates is if you make him do it in front of you, and god was that hot.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Has a mommy kink and a praise kink. Tell him he's doing an excellent job while your pussy's dripping on his face, and it's a surefire way to crash his systems. Yet, at the same time, he loves to be degraded or have anything that has to do with you being in control of him. He's also into electric stimulation, obviously. Likes when you make him bluescreen. Some errors include. _ERROR_(Y/n)'s_Pussy_too_Good.exe _ERROR_Mommy's_Punishing_Me.exe
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere, anytime. If you're both horny, he'll drag you off somewhere to blow off steam. He gets a rush from fucking in public where the press could catch them, but in reality, that would be his worst nightmare.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
You glaring at him, cussing him out, being a stubborn hothead... etc. Any one of those will have him sporting a hard-on desperately needing your attention. Also, kissing his neck right where his circuits meet human flesh. That has him begging.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
He's done a lot of shit with Val, but some things absolutely cross that line. Piss, Shit, or any other bodily fluid that isn't cum is one of his big ones.
He also has to say no to shower sex, not willingly; he cannot get his head wet without risking a major power blowout.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
With Vox's long tongue, he's good at oral, can reach the deepest places, and uses his claws to keep your hips in place. You wake up covered in bruises from gripping him too tight. He has to pull your legs apart and hold them because you can't close your legs around his TV head. He loves receiving it, too, especially with you under his desk while he watches the cameras around Pride and is hooked up to the wires. If you work well enough, you can cause a city-wide blackout with just your mouth.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on how he's feeling at the moment. He's had too many fast rough, and nonintimate fucks with Val. He appreciates smooth and sensual lovemaking. But also loves spontaneous sex; if you turn him on, he won't care where he'd find a place to fuck you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He *LOVES* quickies. King of quickies, to be honest. Before work fuck, lunch fuck, afternoon fuck, before dinner fuck, after dinner fuck.
Most of the time, you don't know how you walk around the following days like nothing happened. If he did manage to fuck you stupid from a quickie, he would provide aftercare but still would leave to do his work at the end of the day.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
He'll try anything once. If you say you like something, he'll give it a try; he wants to do electrical play and shibari more than anything.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
All day, every day, several times. It's almost like because he's a computer, it's nearly like he has total control of his refractory period and when he cums. He could have you cumming five times before he finishes.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
He has toys, plenty of them. When you live with Valentino, you know for sure every Christmas or birthday, he's getting you sex toys. You and Vox don't think he's capable of getting any of you an actual gift. Although both of you make good use of all of them
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Oh, he likes to tease. Insanely so, but then again, so do you whenever he gives you the chance. When he tops this man will delay your orgasm as much as possible while calling you 'baby girl' and complaining about how you're pathetic and needy for him.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
This man likes to hear himself talk, so of *course* he's loud. Especially when you're sucking him off, lots of curses and mocking laughter as his claws pull and dig into your hair. When he's fucking into you, he growls and grunts saying how tight you are and how you're his perfect fuck toy.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He likes to film you on his screen and saves it away for later use in a file with your name on it. Val once asked if he could have access to it to sell it because it would make the Vee's an insane amount of money. Vox almost killed him for insinuating that he'd ever expose you like that; you were for his eyes only.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He's long and slender; it glows a soft blue when it's dimly lit. There are thick veins on the underside of the shaft. The color is a deep navy blue, and the tip is light blue.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
As discussed before, he has an incredibly high sex drive. If you don't want it one day, he'll accept it, but he will be whining about it all day. It's like you killed him or broke up with him; that's what withholding sex is like for him. He would never force himself upon you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)
First, he gives you aftercare or vice versa, and then he immediately passes out. Even if you get up and shower, he's sprawled out on the bed, snoring away. You always have to maneuver your way back into the bed, moving his sprawled-out limbs. Once you're back in bed, he clings to you like a koala does to a tree branch. Then you're stuck until morning.
#x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader smut#vox x reader smut#vox x y/n#vox x you#vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x reader#hazbin hotel vox x you#hazbin smut#hazbin hotel smut#fem reader#reader insert smut#reader insert
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Wedding Headcanon [Mini Verstappen Series]
Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)
Photo Credit: Pinterest/Tumblr
Format: Headcanon/Social Media
Summary: Headcanons from Max and the Reader's wedding. Social Media posts from during their honeymoon.
Warning(s): N/A
Words: 0.8k
Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist
The wedding was with about 100 people there (Maybe slightly over, who's really counting)
The whole grid came. + Sebastian came but didn't RSVP until the last possible minute.
Christian, Geri, and most of the engineers from RBR ended up coming (ex. GP, Calum, Jonathan, and Hannah), those who weren't able to make it sent Max their congratulations
Lewis ended up sitting on Y/N’s side of the aisle instead of Max’s.
Y/N was nervous to walk down the aisle but talking to Sophie helped calm her down
“Sophie,” Y/N said to her as they walked hand in hand before the music started playing for her to walk down the aisle. “I just want to thank you. Thank you for raising Max the way that you did, and being there for him when Nico came into his life.”
You could see that Sophie was starting to tear up a bit. “My son loves you, and my grandson too. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife to my son even if I had a hand in choosing her myself.”
Victoria ends up being Y/N's Maid of Honor
Max did end up crying when Y/N came walking down the aisle
Her dress was custom-made, and she wore ivory instead of the traditional white
Daniel tried to joke that he lost the rings when the officiant asked for them. Max ended up just laughing before Daniel slipped them into his hand.
There is a section of Y/N's wedding vows to Nico
Nico ended up crying into the skirt of her dress not wanting to let go of her during the rest of the ceremony
Max ends up spending the first few moments of his vows stumbling over his words before reaching for Y/N's hand, needing to feel her to ground him back to just her
Lando offers to DJ the wedding reception as his wedding present, and he would have if Martin hadn't already agreed to do it months before
Daniel made the best best man speech known to man with just the right amount of jokes. His speech ended with,
"But I digress, Y/N, you make Max so happy and have become an integral part of his family. I hope Max, that you know how lucky you are to have her in your life." Daniel lifted his champagne glass. "To many more years for the two of you, to Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen."
Victoria kept her Maid of Honor speech rather short but welcomed you into the family and joked with Max that if he screwed up she got to keep you in the divorce
Max laughed before giving Y/N a questionable look as if to say, Something I don't know about? Before breaking out into a smile knowing that Victoria is joking
Max quickly interjected, "I don't plan on letting that happen." before lifting her hand and lightly kissing the back of it
Everyone drank from their glasses and Nico and Victoria's boys got glasses of sparkling apple cider
Nico ends up cutting in during Max and Y/N's first dance
On the cake topper, the groom is in a race suit instead of a tux
Y/N ends up shoving Max's face into the wedding cake after it was cut
Halfway through the evening, Daniel ended up stealing the photographer's camera and started taking candid photos of everyone
Max and Y/N leave the day after the wedding, Nico staying with Sophie until both you and Max get back from you're honeymoon
ynverstappen
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ynverstappen My travel buddy
oscarpiastri Don't know where you're going but can you bring me back a keychain?
landonorris Keychain? I'm surprised that Y/N is even posting on her IG
lewishamilton Enjoy the honeymoon guys 🏝️ 🏞️
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fan50 I want what she has...
agirlsguidetof1 Officially not allowed to gatekeep shirtless photos of Max anymore
Feb 3, 2025
ynverstappen
Liked by maxverstappen1 and 391,872 others
ynverstappen Before dinner, during and after
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raquel.james OMG! So cute!! 💘💘
formu14leclerc How do all of her photos maintain the same aesthetic?
girlonthxgrid 😍😍 They are the best couple!
Feb 7, 2025
verstappen1.jpg
Liked by ynverstappen and 273,837 others
verstappen1.jpg Being with you is simply lovely
ynverstappen ❤️❤️❤️
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fan97 These photos feel like they're straight out of a Vogue shoot
fan47 Max pulled out the Simply Lovely. I'm Dead!
maxverstappen1
Liked by ynverstappen, victoriaverstappen and 586,745 others
maxverstappen1 To share everything with you.
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fan60 Max double posting on two accounts in the span of a day
fan85 I know it's their honeymoon, but Max is gatekeeping all of the gorgeous pictures of Y/N for himself
Feb 9, 2025
taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra
#mini verstappen series#max verstappen imagines#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1 imagine#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#mini verstappen headcanon
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𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ includes headcanons for mike & his alters, zoey, alejandro, and duncan
↳ warnings: total drama type violence
↳ song: heat waves—glass animals
masterlist!
𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐞
• He is the most sweetest boy to date ever
• Looks at you like you're the sun to his moon
• He loves to surprise you by hugging you from behind and squeezing. Durring a challenge or otherwise
• Big on cuddling. He's so used to having so many people around him constantly with his alters and all, but physically touch has always been hard. So those moments where he can just sit down and chill with you is like heaven
• Give him a kiss and he'll stop functioning all together. A complete and total mess over you, and is so happy that you feel the same way
• Isn't big on using pet names himself, but swoons when you call him babe or anything like that
• Has a talk in the head space with everyone to make sure they're all okay with him dating you. You were actually the one to suggest he do that, wanting to make sure all of him was okay with this
• Mike's not very jealous, either. Something you appreciate. He trusts you unbelievable amounts and isn't one for confrontation, so situations are normally diffused pretty quickly
𝐒𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚
• She is constantly wanting to impress you
• "Love! Look at vhat I can do!" Svetlana called out, balancing on top of the cabins roof with a perfect pirouette. You just clapped from below, cheering her on happily
• "Way to go!"
• Calls you her little flower <3
• If you're up for it, her ideal way to spend time together is to go on a little run. Or any sort of physical activity, really
• Complains that she never gets any time with you in between challenges and the others fronting, so the two of you make do with what time you have. Which normally ends up being really sweet moments
• Her favorite place to kiss you is on your nose, often times giggling in the process
• Getting possessive of you isn't her strong suit. She prefers to just hold your hand while you counter any advances, kissing you on the cheek gleefully as you walk away later
𝐕𝐢𝐭𝐨
• He was so surprised when his flirting actually worked for once
• That doesn't mean he stopped, but at least now he could say he's flirting with his partner and not someone he met five minutes ago
• Much like Svetlana, he spends a lot of his time trying to impress you with things. Albeit not his acrobatic abilities
• "I think my muscles grew overnight babe! What do you think?" He grinned, flexing for you boastfuly and completely missing the way you struggled to keep in a laugh
• Uses pet names for you nonstop. Babe, sugar, sexy, etc. Although you could argue that the last one is less of a pet name and Vito just being Vito
• Jealousy isn't as common a theme with Vito as much as insecurity is. He's always a little bit worried you'll see someone buffer or more tan than him and leave. So you have to reassure him occasionally that you love him for who he is
• His favorite place to kiss you is your lips. It's not anything new, but he can't get enough. Most of the times you have to tap out just so you can breathe while Vito watches on, smug as ever
• "Yeah, I did that to em. Who's the man? Vitos the ma— ow! Okay okay I'll shut up."
𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐚
• Aside from Vito, he was the first to make a move on you
• Mike was too nervous and Svetlana hadn't really met you yet, so he took it into his own hands to start something up
• Once you're in a relationship, he will never stop giving you trinkets. They could be from a gift shop, or one of his little adventures. It doesn't matter. He loves bringing you things for you to keep either way. And seeing them sitting on your desk or bed later just makes his heart swell
• Makes up the most bizarre phrases all the time to hear your laugh
• Constanly has an arm around your shoulder head or waist. Very touchy feely. Likes to keep you close to him in case anything happens
• You'll find him tipping his hat your way and winking at you, just to see your neck turn red
• Favorite place to kiss you is on your head/hairline. Doesn't matter if you're taller or shorter than him. He'll find a way
• Doesn't get jealous easily, but that's mostly because he's so sure of himself and his ability to woo you. Manitoba knows he's lucky to have you though, and won't hesitate to step in if things go too far
𝐌𝐚𝐥
• You have no idea how you managed to snag this man
• Didn't even know he liked you back. Or knew that you even existed, for that matter. One morning you just woke up and were suddenly his partner
• Mal isn't really into physical affection as much as the others. The only time he touches you is when he's being territorial—something that happens a lot. Duncan barely looked at you once and he almost bit the punks head off
• Sometimes you'll forget you're even dating him until he monotonely compliments you out of the blue
• His favorite place to kiss you is your neck. He's got a possessive side to him, and loves to see the dark marks he leaves behind. Finds it even more enjoyable when you and the other alters freak out over them
• Will not put up with any nicknames you give him, but insists on calling you doll face and toots. Doesn't matter what your gender is. That's final
• Loves you in his own weird way
𝐙𝐨𝐞𝐲
• She is so stoked to finally be dating you, oh my god
• The sweetest and most nervous thing ever—much like that season four scene where she was fretting if her flower was too much, she'll worry over your relationship constantly. Is she giving you enough attention? Making you feel loved enough? Was that gift she left you the other day alright?
• Will not stop worrying until you assure her that she's just fine. It's that, or you'll have to pull her in for a kiss. That works too
• Gets really flustered when she catches you staring at her lovingly. She feels like she should be the one doing that, not the other way around
• Kisses all over you!! She will just pepper them across your face all day unless you stop her
• Always looking out for your back durring challenges. And if something ever happens, she's by your side in an instant
𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨
• Was so persistent at taking you out on a date
• Genuinely liked you and wanted to get to know you more than just as another competitor, so he asked you out
• Smiled the brightest he ever had when you accepted
• Play with his hair please, dear lord. You're the only person allowed to touch his precious locks, but he loves when you do. Could lie with his head in your lap twenty four seven, falling asleep to the feeling of your fingers against his scalp
• Anytime someone else flirts with you, he'll just smoothly slide up next to you and pull you into a deep kiss until they've been scared off. Hasn't failed yet
• Your temple is his favorite place to kiss you, though. It feels so intimate to him compared to anything else
• Will say the sweetest things to you in his mother tounge. And if you don't speak Spanish, he will happily translate them for you
𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧
• He is in so much denial about you at first
• Of course he doesn't like you. Why would he! You're only the funniest, most unpredictable person he knows; who manages to make him at ease everytime he's around you
• Doesn't even care if Courney gets pissy at him for dating you. She can suck it as far as he cares
• Calls you babe so much. Like, he fits it into every sentence
• "Babe, could you hand me that?"
• "Nice going babe!"
• "Mind turning off the lights for me babe?"
• Has fun letting you dye his mowhawk green. You're always the first person he asks for when it starts to loose it color, looking forward to a night of goofing off over hair dye
• Duncan definitely carved both your names inside a heart on a tree at the island. Didn't even tell you about it. Knowing it was there was good enough for him
• Let's you wear his spikes when you ask. Calls you punk as fuck when you do <3
#total drama#total drama x reader#total drama x you#total drama x y/n#td mike#td mike x reader#mike x you#mike x y/n#td svetlana x reader#td vito#vito x you#manitoba smith#td manitoba x reader#manitoba smith x reader#manitoba smith x you#td mal#td mal x reader#mal x reader#mal x you#td alejandro#td alejandro x reader#alejandro x you#td zoey#vito x reader#zoey x reader#zoey x you#td duncan#duncan x reader#duncan x you#td duncan x reader
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Part 2 on the yandere General hcs
Yandere! General pt.2
Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
Pt. 1
Yandere! General is a battle-hardened leader with a reputation for being unyielding and fierce. An unapproachable force with a bloodthirsty aura present in his mannerism. So it’s no surprise that he’s out of place in the king’s banquet filled with joyous laughter and people waltzing onto the dance floor.
He feels repulsed by just being there, who cares if the royal family personally invited him, he should have stayed home. There were just too many people with ulterior motives for approaching and it didn’t help that the princess had a crush on him. God how he hated her, she just never seemed to want to leave him alone. She is a selfish little brat who whines all the time and always seems to balance others for her atrocious actions. “Please stay the night with me, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile? I’ve just missed seeing your face, I want to spend more time with you.” Yep, he really wished he stayed at home today.
Deciding that engaging in conversation with the princess was not worth it, he simply just ignored her and made his way outside to the royal garden. There, he sees a figure dancing in the moonlight. The way you moved had him transfixed and in a daze. He silently stares at them and waits for them to finish their performance. This dancer is actually you. Now the question arises, why are you dancing and in the royal garden no less? Well the answer to that question is quite complicated, actually.
Your father is a low leveled noble in the aristocratic society. Who is power hungry and strives to raise their social standing no matter what. Everyone in your family hates you and rarely acknowledges you. The reason for this is because your father cheated on his wife with a lowly maid working in his manor and conceived you. His wife, now your stepmother, was enraged by this and ended up murdering your biological mother. She was, however, never caught or tried. The only reason why she kept you around was because she thought that you would be useful for future purposes. Your family never really paid much attention to you and you have an older half sister who absolutely despises you. She treats you as if you were a dog or some common slave.
Your life was extremely miserable but the only thing that seemed to bring you happiness was dancing. You first learned to dance when you were eight. When one day you decide to sneak out of your father's manor and go visit town. Luckily for you, it was during that time that a festival was being held and you couldn’t take your eyes off of the dancers and secretly copied their moves. It wasn’t until one of them noticed you and asked if you would like to join them. Ever since then, you have been secretly going to town to learn and improve your dancing skills. It’s not like your family even cared that you were gone, heck they didn’t even notice.
Many years have passed and your love and passion for dance is still the same. This tranquility, however, did not last for long because the moment you turned eighteen your parents agreed to sell you off to be engaged to a rich but very old nobleman. No amount of begging and pleading could convince your parents to change their minds. It was always met with the same response of “Don’t you know we need the money? Why are you being so selfish?!?! How else could we raise our social status, don’t you know your sister needs this in order to have a chance with the crowned prince?!?! Just be lucky that you're alive and that we feed you!” You have never been more depressed. You’ve always dreamed of marrying for true love, you didn’t want things to end up this way.
The news of your engagement broke in high society which had helped boost your family's prestige. You had briefly met your soon to be husband and had to force yourself to not cry. After the meeting, your father severely scolded you and it was decided that the next time the two of you would meet, would be on your wedding day. Due to your family’s higher social status you were all invited to the royal banquet that was created to celebrate the country’s tremendous victory in the four year war. You’ve heard rumors about it and how it was mostly won due to the general who easily sunk ten battleships in one day.
The moment that you stepped foot into that room, you immediately felt as if you did not belong. You were so out of place and everything was just so suffocating for you. You had to go outside and take a breath of fresh air. When you made your way outside you noticed a beautiful path filled with followers and decided to follow it. There you saw a beautiful flower garden, none like you’ve ever seen before. Being there just felt so peaceful and relaxing. You couldn’t help but just live the moment and dance in the moonlit sky. During that time, everything just felt so right in the world.
After you finished your performance, someone coughed in order to get your attention. Looking to the right, your heart almost shot due to fear, it was Yandere! General. He starts to compliment your dancing and the way you shined brighter than any of the stars that night. You both chat for a few moments when he just randomly asks out of nowhere, if you wanted to marry him! You honestly could not believe this man, why would you want to marry someone you just met. Without batting an eye you quickly reject the offer and before he could say anything, one of his men went to inform him that the king wanted to speak with him. Clicking his tongue in annoyance he agrees to go and tells you that he’ll be back.
Watching him leave, you swiftly make your way to exit the garden and decide to hide out in one of the restrooms. When Yandere! General gets back and immediately tries to find you but to no avail because you successfully manage to avoid him and leave undetected. This does not deter him because he has been there to find you and orders his men to help his search. By the time that the sun starts to rise he learns almost everything about you. Your age, your family, and your engagement.
That same morning Yandere! General makes his way towards your house and demands for your hand in marriage. Your parents are unsure about what to say, on one hand you being married to the general would bring many benefits but, on the other, they already agreed to you being married to the old nobleman. Your father tells him about your engagement and Yandere! General responds calmly with, “Don't worry, I’ll handle it.” In the afternoon he mails the head of your fiancé to your parents. Welp problem solved, guess you’ll just have to marry him.
Running away in this situation is useless, the only thing that you can do is to just accept your fate. With a heavy heart, you interact with him everyday getting to know your future husband.
There were of course many protests from the upper class of society. How could someone like him marry a person of lower status? It just wasn’t right. These complaints mainly came from the princess who was the most vocal about it. She loved him so much how he could do this to her. She tried to stop the wedding of herself but Yandere! General threatened to kill her. When that didn’t work he told the royal family directly that if she tries to interfere any longer, then he won’t hesitate to rebel against the royal family. After that, all attempts were stopped.
Your wedding day is very grand, there is not one speck of dust to be seen anywhere. Everything seemed so perfect, with the best of items that only money could buy. There, in one of the rooms stood you, putting on your wedding outfit with many maids swarming you like a pack of bees. As you walk to the altar you are greeted with the smiling face of your fiancé. It felt like such a blur to you, that you could hardly even comprehend what was going on. It was as if some sucked all the air out of you.
“Do you take Yandere! General to be your lawful husband?”
“… I do.”
Pt.3
#yandere#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere scenarios#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#yandere general#male yandere#yandere oc#gn reader
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