#but who also knows when to get the hell out of dodge bc if you want to stay alive you have to keep yourself alive. and for now he'd really
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hi guys i'm posting again. as much as i love playing characters who have a self-preservation instinct it's so much EASIER to play characters who do not have one even at all especially in situations Like This
#cw:fire#c:megadungeon#cha:alessi#or really like alessi thinks they don't NEED a self-preservation instinct bc their saint and their holy purpose is preserving them#but it was so EASY to just be like 'yeah i charge into the burning building yeah i keep going deeper into the fire yeah i grab the searing-#hot door handle. there's a person in there who might possibly still be alive!' i didn't even have to THINK about it#and not even like. not even a person they KNEW especially well just A Person#and they still couldn't actually get her out alive :( but they still gave it all they had and still managed to get her body out#[i'm going to need to take this next two weeks (:() b4 we play to figure out how they feel about that. beyond 'angry at ragnarr']#i was getting a little worried in there tbh! 14 hp is not very much to end up with! but i didn't have to even consider turning around#and alessi wasn't even a little bit worried about it they knew they'd be fine#that's clerics <3 kings of getting into situations and getting other people out of situations and NOT getting themselves out of situations#and it's such a fun contrast w my other active megadungeon guy being salvador who DOES have the hit-da-bricks instinct#was introduced as the sole survivor of a tpk!#and the fun tension that gives w him being a guy who Does walk the edge of death frequently#and who HAS that castillian bravado and that bravery sword and who IS a bit of a risk taker even just for the sake of taking risks#but who also knows when to get the hell out of dodge bc if you want to stay alive you have to keep yourself alive. and for now he'd really#rather like to be alive!#cha:salvador#okay NOW i'm going shopping#love when meg puts me in a situation <3
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I loved your posts about how the batboys act when they’re crushing on the reader, and I was wondering if you had any hcs on any questionable habits they’d have when crushing on the reader. I’d imagine bc it’s Gotham city and it’s dangerous they’d be quite protective they’d probably know what route you take to work, when you get home, etc. or really just anything else stupid or weird they’d do if they liked you 😂





Dick: Surprise
Up from where he’s perched on the roof, he coos at seeing your eyes snap right then to left.
“Just a step closer to the street lamp…” He mumbles, his patience already running thin in anticipation and excitement. And, bingo, you’re right where he wants you.
Pressing send on his phone, he quietly jumps down and lands right behind you as you stand there, checking the text you just received.
“What does he want now?” You grumble your breath, not all realizing the head that leans over your shoulder and stays right next to your ear.
“Who wants what now?”
“Eek!”
For a minute, it’s silent. Your face beet red with a hand covering your mouth. His eyes on you in disbelief. Then:
“Pfft-“
He bursts out laughing, laughing even harder when you smack his arm and tell him to shut up.
“Dick!”
“That’s my name.” He quickly tilts his head, dodging your fist.
It can’t be helped, him teasing you like this. He’s a vigilante in love, head over heels for you to where he changed his patrol route so it would be timed when you leave work and he could follow you around with the excuse that he’s doing his job whenever he gets caught by you. Surprise attacks? He tells you it’s his way of making sure you have your guard up when it’s actually a small bonus for himself since your reactions always manage to send warmth and happiness down his spine, knowing your attention is on him.
Also how else would he be able to spend more time with you on a daily basis?
Jason: Weaponry
Same time, same place. He blankly stands in front of the glass shelf, mentally debating what to get you.
He’s been playing bodyguard, walking you from work to your place every night (sometimes following you when he’s being Red Hood but you didn’t need to know that) only to find out up to earlier today, you were walking in the city with the highest crime rate in the dead night and unarmed.
“Do you even know any self defense? Own self-defense?”
“No…? Why would I?” The urge to facepalm felt so real, questions on how you got it this far in his mind.
“Have you… ever considered…?”
“Why when I have you?”
…Fuck.
He rubs his face with hand, trying to smother out the flames blazing under his cheek. Whether it was intentional or not, he hasn’t figured out yet. What he does know is that you’re so smooth and cheeky, mostly likely unaware how the simplest things you do can affect him so much. Precious and so darn cute that it becomes another reason for him to worry about you from the desire of needing to protect you and your adorableness in case anyone else were to notice and snatch you away because of it.
The shopkeeper's bell rings and his hand holds a plastic bag for a change when he exits the store. A pepper spray, a switchblade - some beginner friendly stuff. He was on the fence with the personal alarm that’s disguised as a keychain considering he already had a tracker on you just in case. But having another one might not be so bad, right?
Tim: Social stalking
“Amateurs.” He snorts to himself, listening to his siblings’ conversation over the coms.
The whole following around the city is such an old classic. GPS tracking with the latest cutting-edge technology? Sure, it’ll help with keeping track, finding places to go and, maybe, where to eat on the next hang out. But the real way to do things is to do what he does: follow every social.
Snapchat, Facebook, hell even Pinterest and Tumblr, he follows you on, your socials a cornucopia of your likes and dislikes whether it’s current or in the past. How else would he have known to get you Elden Ring or that one hoodie you’ve been eyeing the past few days? Also, did you really think it was a coincidence that he’d bring up going to that one new bakery last week during the time you suddenly craved for baked goods?
The best part about it is how he’s still connected to you even when he’s not physically there and can’t text you. Reading and liking every post you make about your day fills his heart, saving any photo you take on to his phone with a dopey smile especially if it’s of you. You’re just a button away rather than miles, making him think about you constantly.
So he mutes everyone on his end and goes back to the problem at hand, that is figuring out how to become mutuals. After all, you don’t know that he knows and follows you. But he really wants to comment on your posts, especially on the latest featuring you in a Red Robin hoodie while fanning over it in the caption.
Duke: Light fluctuation
Small orbs of light surround the two of you as you both walk through Gotham Park on a summer night.
“Woah, look at all these fireflies! I think it’s the most I’ve seen so far!” Your eyes sparkle, smiling with childish glee and excitement.
“Y-yeah, it sure does…”
Mentally, he screams. He’s sweating bullets, begging everything in the universe that you didn’t hear his voice crack.
It became a thing now where every time he’s with you, he’d subconsciously emote through his powers. Just the other day, he had to distract you from looking down at your shadow because there were heart-shaped shadows surrounding yours. Last week was worse. He was on patrol, saw you, and started glowing like a glow-stick. A fucking glow-stick. The only saving grace for that incident was the sun coincidentally shining behind him when he waved at you though he didn’t appreciate the texts he got in the group chat asking why he was emitting light brighter than said star.
Now there’s this, his powers completely filling the park. At least there are actual fireflies blinking here and there in between but he’s pretty sure ninety-percent of those lights are from him.
seeing you haven’t suspected anything, he starts to unwind and enjoy the walk. Until his phone vibrates.
A hand over his face, he groans when it’s a text from Bruce, annoyance turned into horror at the news clip his mentor has sent him asking if he knew anything about the light-dome phenomenon that’s occurring.
“Duke, you good…? You don’t look great…”
“Just peachy.” His voice pitched, struggling to suppress his tears of despair.
Damian: Following around
He refuses to be slandered by Drake. Unlike the other who failed to trick his team members with a stupid disguise (like seriously, the best name he could make up was Mr. Sarcastic?), he was able to follow the son of Superman undetected by acting as the latter’s substitute teacher AND bus driver
Also, the older male does realize they do this all the time regardless of civilians or criminals alike, right? It’s nothing much different to that. If anything , it’s killing two birds with one stone where he’s able to observe you while being available to protect you if anything were to happen by following you around.
It can’t be helped, when, in his opinion, you’re not aware of your surroundings. It’s one thing for you to not realize that he likes you but it's another when One too many times, there would be someone getting too touchy with you for his liking leading him to have to them away.
Hence the current situation where he’s leaning against a tree and putting away the mini sketchpad with another completed sketch of you in it.
“What’s so great about that book anyways?” He grumbles as he watches you read the same book the fifth time this week at the stump of the same tree he’s on.
He startles when you suddenly snap the book close.
“Da- Robin, I know you’re in the tree.”
“Tt.”
Dammit. He got caught again. With that, he jumps down while preparing to face your annoyance. At least you’re thinking this is the first time, neither denying or confirming how many times he’s done it so far.
#dick grayson#nightwing#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd#red hood#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake#tim drake x reader#red robin dc#red robin x reader#duke thomas#dc signal#duke thomas x reader#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne
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Jealousy headcannons! Multi/GN!Reader - Cable, Gambit, Nightcrawler, Quicksilver. Ok I know this wasn't on the schedule butttt Yeahhhh. Cable is going to have an extended version of his fic, and I might do the same for the others but no promises! Also I know that Cable's written half is literally just the snippet I shared with some minor edits but bear with me please his stuff is in the works!!! TWs: Jelousy. Barfights. No violence on Reader but men are creepy. Mentions of sex work. Cable and gambit make public spectacles it's just what they do. The return of wolverine and the X-men Pietro bc I love him

Cable
Look, any man who comes over to flirt with you after you walk in with a legit wall of muscle has to be either stupid or blind.
Cable is by no means a very jealous man. He's not gonna care if a man (or woman) approaches you and starts up a conversation. He might get a little frustrated if they start flirting with you, but he trusts you. He knows you can take care of yourself and he doesn't want you to feel like he's got you on a leash.
But when someone is being persistent, not taking no for an answer, and hell, putting their hands on you? He doesn't take it too well. He's more of an overprotective type when it comes to his flavor of jealousy.
“That beer for me, Beautiful?” The voice of a stranger cuts through your thoughts, and to be honest, you don’t even think he’s talking to you until you realize how close to you he is. He’s sat on the barstool next to you, leaning towards you like he can’t quite catch his balance. You make a face at him, nonchalantly moving Cable’s beer closer.
“Last time I checked it wasn’t.” You say curtly. The man has a smile hiding behind his pout as he leans a little closer to you, oblivious to the way you casually recoil from him.
“Oh c'mon, don’t play hard to get. I’m chill!” You can tell this guy is most definitely drunk, and you find yourself trying not to roll your eyes at him. If only he knew what kind of trouble he was in.
“Sure you are. But believe me, my Husband is not.” You tell him. You're not married, but to be honest, you knew this guy wasn't going to leave you be if you left him with some vague label. Didn't matter anyway, however, the stranger laughs in your face, and his breath smells like alcohol and cheap cigarettes, a nasty combo that repulses you. You point back at the corner booth where the cable was sitting just a few minutes before, hoping that he’d at least back off at the sight of the six-foot hunk of muscle you call a lover. Unfortunately, He doesn't.
“What Husband?” The man says mockingly, and when you look at the booth you find yourself pointing at an empty seat. The sight lights a small flicker of anxiety in you, and your face falls as the man sets a hand on your shoulder and squeezes. It’s not there for long before the weight suddenly disappears. You snap your head around, feeling relief when you see the man’s wrist caught in Cable’s literal iron-clad grip.
“This Husband.” Cable grunts.
All of the blood drains from the stranger’s face in an instant, but it doesn’t take long for the attitude to come back. He tries to yank his arm out of Cable’s grip, but Cable’s arm doesn’t move an inch. To be honest, the sight kinda made you blush a little. Sure, you had seen Cable’s strength many times, but this… well. This was different. The guy starts to yank a little more aggressively, and all Cable has to do is clench his hand for the asshole to yelp and give up. You set a placating hand on his shoulder, and Cable glances back at you. His gaze softens, and he sighs before letting the guy go.
“What’s your problem, man?” The stranger spits as he holds his bruised wrist. You had already gathered your things and were getting ready to get the hell outta dodge, giving Cable’s shoulder a hard pat as you desperately tried to keep him from getting in a barfight. Cable ignores the guy, walking close behind you as you start to walk away.
“ -s’ an ugly bitch, anyway.” The stranger mumbles under his breath, but not nearly as quiet as he should’ve. Cable stops in his tracks, wheels around, and slugs the guy with his left arm. There's a sickening crunch and the bar goes silent as the drunken stranger is violently knocked from his seat. Your first instinct is to scold Cable, but the guy had it coming anyway. You look around, and with every eye in the bar squarely on you and Cable, you decide you’ve definitely stayed past your welcome.
Gambit
Gambit is probably the most jealous man in this lineup. Again, He will get fidgety and somewhat aggressive when someone approaches you and begins to flirt, but he trusts you. He doesn't want you to think he doesn't, and as a result, he tends to grit his teeth and bite his tongue to keep himself in check.
There's definitely a very, very thin line in between "I don't want to be overbearing" Remy and "This guy needs to take the fucking hint" Remy.
He's mostly fine with drunk bastards, He thinks they're funny, and as long as they're not bothering you for the most part he'll keep the aggression to a minimum. -But the one thing he absolutely cannot stand is snobby pricks who think they can steal you from him because he's a "swamp rat."
"It's a shame to see such a lovely creature like you standing here all alone." You try not to roll your eyes at the man that approaches you. You and Remy were supposed to have a nice, romantic night out. It was your anniversary, and Remy had told you that he wanted to pull out all the stops for this one. Unfortunately, fate wasn't on either of your sides today. The X-men needed Gambit, and you told him that the plans can wait for another time. Remy, in a very gambit fashion, told you to dress up anyway and he bet he would meet you there. Definitely a rather High-stakes gamble, but you loved him, so you said you'd hold him to it.
Unfortunately for you, it looked like the restaurant was hosting an event at the bar for what looked like a rather stuffy- sorry, High-end law firm. You had been content with waiting for Remy, even if the waitress clearly looked convinced he was standing you up. You had ordered something to drink while you waited, and caught the wrong kind of attention during your trip to the bar.
"I'm not alone, I'm waiting for someone." You say, flashing him an annoyed smile. He smiles back in a smartass kind of way, flashing you his Rolex as he pushes up his glasses. Great. He thinks you're a sugar baby- or maybe a sex worker. Either way, you really wished he was anywhere but here.
"Right. I'll be honest with you, I know you've been waiting here for what- and hour now? Hour and a half? Any guy that leaves you here for that long is not worth your time, sweetheart." You cringe at the nickname, but he clearly can't seem to tell. At this point, you start debating your options. You could run to the bathroom, but there weren't any windows you could crawl out of and he could wait at the door for you to come out. You could try to leave, but you didn't want Remy to think that you left him hanging. It's probably best if you stay and wait for him, but man was this guy getting on your nerves.
"Again, I'm waiting on someone. I'm choosing to wait on him, and frankly, I'm not interested in you." You say bluntly, getting more and more aggravated. The man only smirks at you.
"You're certainly a fiesty one. Don't worry, I like it when they play hard to get." He sends you wink that makes you want to sock him, and to be honest, you start to think about it. The bell at the door of the restaurant dings, and you glance over, face breaking out in a smile at the sight of the man you had been waiting on.
Remy was still in his x-men suit, obviously having come fresh from the fight. He's got some dirt on his face, and his hair is a little messier than normal, but you had never been so happy to see him.
"Well, don't you clean up well." You joke as Remy walks to your table. He chuckles, barely sparing the other man a side-eye before picking up your hand to kiss it.
"Sorry, Chère. Originally, I planned on changin', but I couldn't stand the thought of leaving you here for another moment." Remy's fond gaze turns into a bit of a glare when he finally looks over at the gobsmacked man across the table from you. "I see you've made a new friend?" You roll your eyes at that, shaking your head. Remy gets the message.
There's a gasp from the other patrons of the restaurant, as the sound the contact made was rather loud. There's already a red mark forming on the mans face as you take Remy by the hand and begin to lead him out of the restaurant. Remy is looking at you like he'd fallen in love with you all over again.
"You've been waiting all this time for some Cajun freak?" The man blurts out, finally having found his words.
"Watch it, Mon ami." Remy's shoulders tense as he snarls at the prick. You stand up, giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze before you walk in front of the man. The side of his mouth slightly upturns as you do so, right before you slap the everloving shit out of him.
"I know you really wanted for us to eat here, honey, but to be honest? I like your cooking better anyway."
Nightcrawler
Kurt? Jealous???
Absolutely. He absolutely gets jealous. Kurt is much more of a "cat" kind of jealous than a Guard Dog kind of jealous though. He's not going to do anything crazy like punch anyone, but he's gonna brush up against you, slide his tail around your waist, hold your hand. He wants reassurance from you more than he is angered by whoever is flirting with you.
That's not to say he's not angry. He doesn't like the way some people look at you like a piece of meat instead of the intelligent, beautiful person you are, and he's not afraid to call people out on it.
Kurt knew that the guy you were talking to right now was only stopping to ask you for directions, but he really didn't like how close to you the guy was. Kurt had gone off to get you something to eat from the street food vendor nearby, telling you to just relax and he would be back soon.
When he returned with food in hand, it was obvious to him what was happening, but he still couldn't help but frown. The man is leaning into your space as he shows you the map in his hands. It's fine. There was obviously nothing really going on, the stranger must have been simply touchy. He then watches as the man sets a hand on the back of your waist to point at a building up ahead, and Kurt's mind quickly changes.
Obviously, you had stepped out of the stranger's reach quickly, uncomfortable with the action, but Kurt still slinked up to your side like a cat, pulling you close with his tail as he hands you your food, resting his newly freed hand behind your back.
"There you are, Meine Liebe. I hope you didn't wait for too long." Kurt says sweetly, giving you a grin. You smile back at him, thanking him for the food. You felt relieved to see him. Sure, the stranger that had been speaking to you seemed to be a nice man, but there was a certain amount of comfort and security Kurt provided when he was near you. Kurt makes a show of leaning in and kissing you on the cheek that makes you giggle. The stranger clears his throat after a quick moment.
"-Sorry if I interrupted your date. I appreciate the directions!" He says quickly, face flushed red from embarresment.
"You're perfectly fine! I hope you're able to find what you're looking for alright." You respond sweetly, waving as the man walks off. Kurt is pouting again when you look at him, tail still wrapped comfortably around you. You can't help but giggle.
"You're so jealous." You laugh. Kurt gives you an innocent look as he brushes off the accusation.
"Whaaat? No. Ich habe dich vermisst. That is all!"
Quicksilver
I'm not even gonna lie the fic half of this is just part of that enemies to lovers hcs that I wrote
anyway!!
Pietro is a very pouty, bratty kind of Jealous.
Like sure he trusts you and all but you actually looked at someone else while they were speaking to you? >:[ Don't look at them. Look at him. Smile at him not them. You're laughing at something they said? Well, he's funnier than them!!
He's just, so pouty over the smallest, pettiest things. He just needs a smooch on the forehead and some reassurance and also possibly cuddles, and he'll be fine. God he's such a brat ILHSM
However, If someone is actually flirting with you or going too far and making you uncomfortable, he will in fact throw hands. Or do his speedster thing and find a way to embarrass them, like pantsing them or planting something embarrassing on them. One time he snatched a guy's cell and called his wife before planting it in the man's pocket so she could hear all the flirting he was doing. Now that was fun.
"So I heard you had dinner with the wolfie guy tonight." The sound of Pietro's voice makes you yelp in surprise. You whirl around to see him leaning against the wall of your room, arms crossed. You scoff, and pick a pillow off of your bed to chuck it at him. He catches it easily.
"His name is Logan, and No. Not really. All we did was happen to sit next to each other at dinner." You turn back around to sit at your vanity, but Pietro is already there, sitting on the stool with the pink pillow tucked into his arms.
"So you did have dinner with him?" He pouts. You roll your eyes at him, holding back a laugh as you shove him off the seat. He looses his balance for less than a second before there's a gust and he's sitting cross-legged on your bed, having tossed the pillow to the side.
"What does it matter to you, anyway? You're not even supposed to be here, Pietro." You tease as you sit down, unable to keep yourself from smiling. You comb through your hair as you ready yourself for bed, still grinning like an idiot as you hear Pietro huff and haw.
"Why shouldn't it matter?" He asks, watching as you complete your routine. "I- I have a reason to care." He stutters out cheeks flushing a light pink that reaches his ears. You cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing.
"Don't laugh!" Pietro objects, and it sends you into a fit of laughter as you stand back up and flop onto your back on the bed next to him.
"He's not my type anyway." You say. It only takes a second before Pietro is leaning over you, caging you between his arms. There's the ghost of a grin beginning to form on his face, simply at the sight of your own cheesy expression.
"What is your type, then?" He asks, and you cock an eyebrow at him.
"Let's just say I prefer a man who can keep up with me." You say with a wink that may or may not have been the most terribly, corny action you could have done. Pietro doesn't seem to care as his face is split with an equally as corny grin.
Both of you are caught off guard by someone calling your same from the hallway, and then a knock shortly after. You take Pietro's moment of distraction and quickly lean up, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. Pietro looks absolutely shocked.
"You better get going." You whisper. He smiles at you, almost in disbelief, and then he's gone, the window left open and the breeze catching on curtains, blowing gently.
#x men 97#x men#x men comics#x men headcannons#x men 97 x reader#gambit#kurt wagner#remy lebeau#gambit x reader#cable headcannons#cable x reader#cable xmen#nathan summers headcannons#nathan summers imagines#nathan summers x reader#kurt wagner oneshot#kurt wagner x reader#kurt wagner imagine#nightcrawler xmen#xmen nightcrawler#x men nightcrawler#nightcrawler#x men gambit#remy lebeau fluff#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximov#pietro maximoff#quicksilver headcannons#quicksilver x reader#wolverine and the x men
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frank castle when you flinch in an argument
frank castle x reader
sfw, angst, cursing, reader has been hurt in prev relationships bc thats somehow a recurring theme on this blog
a/n: friends it is 2:46am we are so back this is not proofread help. also i feel like any argument w frank starts bc he was worried
frank was protective. duh. you could tell when you met him that he has been through hell and back. could tell that he's a man that needs, constantly needs, to know you are okay.
the first time you came home from work later than expected, early on in your relationship, he had been so relieved that he couldn't bring himself to scold you.
he is still worried about you always, even after dropping you off at work, sending you a text for you to see when you have a break, and picking you up on time, every time, without fail.
so obviously, the second time your phone dies and you have to work overtime, he slowly starts to panic. again. worse than the first time.
frank tries not to think about you not answering his check-in message. you were probably busy. probably being the overachiever you are while helping everybody around you, and who was he to blame you? he sends another text just in case.
you were safe, right?
he calls over and over to ask what time he should expect an "i'm done! <3" text.
when you aren't picking up, frank laces his boots at top speed, gun already tucked in his belt, and he reaches for the door, set on finding you and bringing you home no matter the circumstance.
the door flies open suddenly, and his heartbeat stutters for half a second.
there you stand, holding everything all at once, clearly having bolted from the metro back to the apartment.
"frank i'm so sorry," you quickly say as you drop all your things on the kitchen counter. "i was-"
you're interrupted by frank shutting the door so forcefully the frame rattles, your explanation trailing off. he paces in the living room for a few silent seconds, hands on his hips, jaw clenched.
you try again, finding the courage to step forward, "frank, i'm sor-"
"why didn't you call, huh?!"
the repeated cutoffs start to make you feel like you should just shut your mouth until prompted.
"check your goddamn phone!" frank continues shouting, pointing at the counter vigorously. "count how many times i called you! you didn't see a single one of them?! not a single damn one?!"
"my phone died," you say meekly, beginning to pick at your nails.
you knew about him being the punisher. you start to think, maybe you should've expected harsher behavior since the beginning. special treatment wouldn't last long anyway, it never did.
but it still wasn't like him to raise his voice, or slam doors, or use any rhetorical tone at you. frank was always so sweet and attentive to you, full of feather touches. considerate of every movement he makes, always wary of his strength.
but in this moment, he's driving the argument home with his entire body, arms flying wide as he continues, "couldn't find a single plug in the building, is that it? is that fucking it?!"
"well, i-" you try to hide the sniffle that automatically comes when someone yells at you.
"i was preoccupied," you say, soft voice filling the room. "frank, i'm really, really sorry." you just never really expected that someone to ever be frank castle, your frank castle.
"yeah," he rubs his nose, turning back and forth. "yeah." and just when you start to feel relief that his volume is quieting, he turns suddenly and raises his voice again.
"well, you damn should be! do you have any idea what radio silence feels like to someone like me? it's fucking terrifying, that's what it is!"
and when his hands go over your head in a furious motion, your instincts get the best of you. your shoulders shrink as you turn your head away, bracing for impact.
part of you begins to wonder if you'd have to dodge. what were you supposed to do against the fucking punisher? you tune out his ranting with your own loud, drowning thoughts.
it's only when he does the movement a second time that he notices you even flinched. he notices your shallow breathing, glassy eyes, and fast blinks.
frank goes silent, mouth still open. he takes a second to register what happened, why it happened, but when he finally does, his reaction is back to the same frank castle you always knew.
he murmurs, "shit, shit, shit," over and over, hesitating at first to put his hands on your hunched shoulders.
you jump slightly at contact, about to apologize profusely for missing everything he had said previously. but apologies tumble out of his mouth first.
"hey, hey hey hey, look sweetheart, i'm so sorry, okay? i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to- to raise my voice and get so physical, alright?
"i wouldn't ever, ever hit you, okay? i'm not like that, yn, promise. i ain't like whoever's hurt you before, okay? i'm not like those fucking monsters, okay? 'm sorry."
he rubs circles on your back with one hand, the other cupping your cheek. "i didn't- i was just so scared, okay? i'm so sorry, sweetheart, so sorry, don't mean to scare you, never meant to. shit, i'm sorry."
you mumble weakly, "i'm sorry too. should've checked my phone, frank. i'll call you next time i swear, i swear i'll remember."
"it's alright. it's alright. fuck, are we okay?" when you nod hurriedly, he repeats, "okay, we're okay. we're okay. don't cry, baby, please don't cry."
frank kisses the crown of your head, moves the hand on your back into your hair. his thumb is restless, making repetitive brushing movements over and over. puts his forehead against yours.
"you've gotta be hungry, sweetheart, i'll order something." he tilts your chin up, kisses your cheeks to catch your falling tears.
"you wanna eat and watch a movie or something, sweetheart?"
there is a little voice in your head fighting your body's exhaustion, saying if you don't say yes, frank's gonna be mad. just say yes. it's all your fault anyway.
so you whisper a wavering, "okay," hoping he doesn't catch the tremble in your voice or the droplets hanging off your lashes.
but he notices. so in a desperate attempt to put you at ease, he says, "you don't have to, sweetheart, you really don't."
not quite knowing what he wants, you just slowly say, "i'm think i'm gonna to go to bed. i'm sorry, again, frank."
"'s okay." he lets you untangle yourself from his arms, wiping your tears quickly. he's left standing in the living room, calling to you before the door shuts, "hey, i'll join you in just a bit, okay?"
you wake up the next morning wrapped in frank's arms like a butterfly in a cocoon. you're pretty sure you fell asleep back to back, but somehow you found your way to each other in unconsciousness.
it was quiet and soothing, listening to each other's heartbeats. just two people trying their best.
a/n: its 4:53 am goodbye hope you enjoyed!
#frank castle#frank castle angst#the punisher#punisher#frank castle x reader#frank castle x you#punisher x reader#the punisher x reader#frank castle fanfiction#frank castle x reader angst
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In Season
alastor x doe! femreader
no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx
Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED
Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.
But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.
Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.
Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.
It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.
Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.
~
Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.
There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.
Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.
You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.
Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.
Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.
Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.
The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.
You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.
No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”
Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.
You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.
Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.
“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”
After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.
“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.
Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.
The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.
It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.
“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”
Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.
You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.
You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.
You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.
As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.
Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.
The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.
You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.
Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.
You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”
You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.
“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.
He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.
One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.
You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.
He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.
He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.
“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.
He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”
Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.
Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.
Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.
His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.
You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.
Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.
“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”
Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.
You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.
He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.
You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.
Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.
So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.
“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.
With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.
You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.
Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.
Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.
Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.
Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.
Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.
Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.
One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.
You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.
Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.
Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.
You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.
Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.
And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.
Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.
Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.
“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.
Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel oneshots#alastor hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader smut#alastor x reader smut#alastor x you
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I JUST HAD A REALLY COOL IDEA FOR AN AU BASED ON THE NEW WILD LIFE EPISODE. HEAVY(?) ANGST UP AHEAD AND ALSO SPOILERS TO SESSION 7 SO BE WARNED!
LIFE SERIES MEMBERS BUT THEY GOT THEIR POWERS FROM LAB EXPERIMENTATION!!!!!
Okay I'm switching to lowercase so I'm not just screaming at you guys haha
[EDIT] Guess who’s fully elaborating on this AU with Subject files and a fic? :3
Project X Master Post
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Imagine Martyn curled up in the corner of his cell, covering his ears bc he doesn't know how to block things out and everything is so loud.
Imagine Scott transforming from an aquatic creature back to his regular form, but he still has gills, and he panics when he can't breathe.
Imagine Jimmy turning in invisible for the first time and not knowing how to turn back, and he thinks he's stuck that way forever.
Imagine Ren transforming the first few times, but there's always something off about him. He looks eerie, like something from uncanny valley.
Imagine Scar not knowing his own strength and jokingly punching Mumbo, only to send him flying into the wall and causing his death.
Imagine Cleo trying so hard to get Mumbo and Skizz to act the way that they used to when she summons them, but it's never truly them. Something is always wrong.
Imagine BigB being terrified when he summons the creaking for the first time, not realizing they're on his side and thinking they'll attack him.
Imagine Gem astral projecting as an escapism, talking to Mumbo and Skizz and "leaving" the facility, but she can't truly leave.
Imagine Impulse and Tango nearly getting to escape with their powers, their friends cheering them on from inside their cells, and just when they're in the clear, Impulse gets tranquilized and falls unconscious. Tango can't bare to leave his buddy behind. They both get collars that block their abilities and heavy monitoring after that stunt.
Lizzie feels bad about her power. She's tried to escape as well, but when she realized the blindness affected her friends, it freaked her out so much that security was able to catch up to her and take her back to her cell.
Imagine Bdubs sleeping diligently through every night and dealing with nightmares of the hell they've all been put through so his friends don't.
Imagine Pearl wishing she could fly out in the open air, desperate for that kind of freedom that she knows she will never have.
Imagine Etho trying to bring down his mace to pretend to hit Bdubs, and when he move to the side to dodge, it actually puts him in the way of Etho's strike. The absolute terror that fills Etho is so bad that he never jokes like that again, even if it barely hurt him.
Imagine Joel looking around and analyzing the rooms, thinking of how he could scale the walls with his ability to escape through an air vent, but he can never bring himself to do it because he refuses to leave Lizzie.
Imagine Grian being physically and emotionally strained trying to learn everyone's powers and how to properly use them, wishing he just had one of his own instead.
Imagine Skizz and Mumbo both dying (Skizz due to the intense tests and Mumbo due to the effects the testing had on Scar) before they had a chance to gain powers of their own. Don't imagine those powers being just what the group needs to escape.
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I think I might write each of these as a one shot. That would certainly be a LOT of fun :) lmk what you guys think please!
#life series#wild life#wild life spoilers#life series au#life series headcanon#inthelittlewood#scottsmajor#solidaritygaming#renthedog#goodtimeswithscar#zombiecleo#grian#bigbst4tzs#geminitay#impulsesv#mumbojumbo#skizzleman#tangotek#ldshadowlady#bdoubleo100#pearlescentmoon#smallishbeans#ethoslabs#life series angst#mcyt#minecraft youtuber#guys I'm kind of obsessed#headcanon#trafficlightsmp#trafficblr
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Can you write something for Lorenzo Berkshire and have it be where he love it when you wear pink? Like it’s his favorite color on you! Like one day when y’all are in his or your room and y’all are making out and then he sees you wearing a pink bra and then he checks to see if it’s a set and it is! So then it just leads to smut! If you don’t want to write this I’d understand.
AHHHHH omg the fact that i got this the SAME day i dressed up in all pink to go watch wicked is INSANE (wicked is absolutely amazing btw) like full glinda coded eyeshadow and pink eyeliner and everything. also i am sick (AGAIN, ive quite literally been sick constantly for the past 3 months bc my immune system might as well not exist)
anyways i hope this is good enough pooks

Favorite Color
(on his favorite girl)
bf!lorenzo berkshire x f!reader
WARNINGS: smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, ummm biting?, whipped Lorenzo, not proofread, lowkey not Toxic!Lorenzo??? SUMMARY: Lorenzo's favorite color was famously red. But on you? Pink all the way.
WC: 1.4k
"Hey, princess- okay then." Lorenzo stopped in the doorway, his hands up as he dodged the shoe you threw in his direction. "Why're you so pissed off, hm?"
You groaned out incoherent swears at him before flopping over onto your back, leaving you bed sheets warm where you had been. "What do you want?"
"To spend time with my beautiful sweet girlfriend and find out who pissed in her tea?" He questioned as he took a careful step forward. "What can I do, honey?"
"I don't know." You mumbled with a heavy sigh. "Don't hate me, but I don't think I wanna do date night out tonight."
Lorenzo took another few steps before sitting down at the edge of the bed, his thumb delicately brushing your cheek.
"I'd never hate you. You sure you don't want to go out? I know you love getting all dressed up to show off."
You watched him carefully as his fingers traced over your t-shirt. You'd gotten half way ready, your hair and makeup done perfectly, before you realized that not only was your dress in need to be washed, but it was pouring out, and your picnic date was a complete waste.
Lorenzo, of course, was quick to call and ask if you wanted to just go get dinner at a restaurant instead, to which you agreed. But, none of your other clothes seemed good enough, and to make matters even worse, you found out last minute that you flunked on an important Potion's exam.
"I don't even have anything to wear," You complained quietly, resting your head on his thigh and tugging the blankets back up so you'd stay warm.
He looked over at the piles of clothes thrown everywhere, but like a smart man, didn't say anything.
"Can we just stay in tonight?"
"Of course,"
"That is not realistic, I mean, who the hell stabs someone like that? And- and blood doesn't just spurt our like that unless you hit an artery." Lorenzo tutted, still tracing circles on your shoulder with the tip of his index finger. "That's just not how it works."
You looked up at him with furrowed brows, your head rested on his chest as you watched the horror movie on the screen with your boyfriend. "Why the hell do you suddenly know so much about the logics of stabbing? Should I be concerned, Enzo?"
"No, I'm just saying. There's science behind this stuff, and if the were really that interested in spending what I assume to be millions on making this movie, you'd think they would at least put a little research into it."
"You're psychotic."
"It turns you on, though." He looked down at you as he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly.
You rolled your eyes with a smile and turned back to the television and watched as the killer proceeded to drag the protagonists dead body towards the woods.
"Deny it, maybe?"
You burst out laughing and looked up at Enzo who was watching you with a mixture of concern and amusement. "Oh, baby, I'm not denying shit."
Lorenzo's brown eyes stared down at you with a sparkle you could recognize from a mile away, his lips brushing up into a smirk.
"Enzo," You whispered, fully intending to spur him on.
His lips immediately crashed to yours, his hands tugging you closer as yours went to his hair.
You let out a soft sigh, eliciting a quiet groan from Lorenzo as he seemed to try to pull you impossibly closer to him. You could feel him already touching all over you, exploring every inch of your body as if it was his first time near a woman.
Still continuing your quickly escalating make-out session, he maneuvered the two of you so he was propped up over your body, his teeth nipping at you bottom lip before his tongue met yours in a familiar dance.
His hands came back to your hair, stroking over it as you pulled at him, both of you already breathing heavily into each other's mouths, gasping in each other's air as it got hotter.
And because Lorenzo would rather die than do it himself, you gently pushed him up so the two of you could breathe properly for a moment, his wild eyes staring down into yours as he gasped for breath, his lips swollen and wet as he grinned.
"Go lock the door," You murmured, four words that drove him mad, quickly scrambling off of you and practically running to the door as he fumbled with the buttons of his shirt.
If only he'd put as much effort into his school work as he did locking the door when you'd ask.
You sat up slightly, pulling the oversized t-shirt over your head to reveal the pink lace bra you'd planned to wear for your restaurant date.
Lorenzo shuddered out a breath as his eyes dropped to the bra, lips parted slightly as his eyes softened. "Fucking hell,"
His gaze hovered over your breasts before looking up at you with a questioning whisper, "Is it?"
"Why don't you come see for yourself?" You grabbed his belt loop with your middle finger, pulling him over to you before rejoining your lips with his as he climbed back over you, smiling into the kiss as you lifted your hips to help as he slowly pulled down your shorts.
You watched as his eyes darkened at the sight of your matching pink panties, Enzo's fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit over the fabric as you let out a soft sigh of relief.
"I don't think I tell you enough how beautiful you are." He mumbled against your lips as he slowly pushed the fabric of your panties to the side and easily pushed two fingers into you.
You let out a gasping moan, pulling on his hair as he curled his fingers hard inside of you, picking up the pace as flashes of heat grew all over your body in pulses.
"Enzo- shit- fuck me, please just-" You cut off with a whimper. "Just fuck me already." You practically pleaded as your eyes welled up with tears at the pleasure of his fingers curling perfectly inside you, his thumb starting up rough circles on your clit.
Lorenzo must have been like a dog in heat tonight, because he was clearly too desperate to make you beg, instead just undoing his belt and pulling off his pants and boxers faster than you'd ever seen him before.
His tip pressed against your entrance as he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a groan as he slipped in, your back arching at the perfect fit.
"Oh, fuck, Enzo," You breathed, arms wrapping over your shoulders as he started slowly thrusting in and out of you.
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, gently biting at your flesh as he sped up. "You feel so good, princess."
Your head tipped back as you felt his fingers speeding up as they circled your clit again, making the knot in your stomach form far faster than usual.
You pressed your hips back against his, meeting it time with his thrusts and pushing him deeper inside of you as you listened to his moans pressed into your skin, your own mouth agape as you whined at the sharp tug of your skin between his teeth.
"Oh, Gods, Enzo- Enzo, I'm so fucking close." You moaned into his hair, nails digging into his tensed back as you closed your eyes, legs shaking slightly.
"C'mon, I've got you." He pulled away from your neck, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I am too."
With one more thrust you tipped over the edge, vision going blank as you gave way to the waves of please, heat coursing through your body as if your blood was replaced with lava, chest heaving as tears slipped past your waterline, rolling down your cheeks before Lorenzo gently kissed them away.
You wrapped your legs tighter around Lorenzo as he was about to pull out, interrupting his panicked glance, "I'll get a vial." You breathed, with less than a second difference before he was finishing inside of you, the both of you moaning at the feeling.
Lorenzo flopped down on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face buried in your chest. "I love you,"
You brushed back his hair with the tips of your fingers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, too, Enzo."
i kinda hate this too but thats okay bc i wrote it was 3am and thats excuse enough
requests are open as always and i promise i am in fact still working on a slytherin boys christmas im just severely behind
#lorenzo berkshire#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#enzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire imagine#lorenzo berkshire smut
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— morning routine (modern!s.h. x reader)
pairing: modern!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: basically, that scene in greys anatomy where meredith snores and keeps waking up derek but instead of them it's reader who just moved in with steve. (and robin duh) idk how to explain it but i tried to give it a spin idk if i succeeded. this is just FLUFFY AND cheesy. and tbh its only modern!steve cuz i added one (1) stupid twilight joke. SUE ME OK!!!!
warnings: just pure fluff. domestic!steve. tooth-rottingly sweet. cheesy af. some kissing. does snoring count idk. steve is an adorable idiot. also makes a dirty joke bc he is immature (and so am i.) kissing. idk. allude to smut but nothing described at all. not proof-read ignore all mistakes cuz i wrote this mess in like 20 mins and cant read it back cuz i cant do it without criticizng everything so im just gonna post okkkkiii bye hope u guys enjoy it (wc: 1.3k+)
⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ
It hadn't been that long since you’d settled into Steve and Robin’s place. You’d initially been nervous about it, about whether everything would work out or not.
But soon enough, things were already starting to fall into place—especially in the mornings.
A perfect routine.
The illuminating rays of sunshine would seep through the cracks in the blinds, glowing the cozy room you and Steve now called yours. And the overwhelming aroma of the coffee Robin always brewed too early, signaling to you that it was time to wake up.
You stirred slightly, mind slowly drifting out of the haze of sleep until you noticed something—rather someone in your periphery.
Eyes fluttering open, you squinted against the soft light, and you were instantly met with Steve’s warm gaze at you, his head propped on one hand as he lay beside you.
“Steve! What the hell?” you exclaimed, groggily shoving his shoulder with a laugh. “Are you watching me sleep, you creep?”
Steve’s lips curled into a lazy, boyish grin, one that you couldn’t resist smiling back at. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, not even bothering to deny it.
“What are you? Edward Cullen?” you teased.
That earns a good chuckle out of him, eyes crinkling at the corners before he mumbles out a “Mornin', honey.”
He leans down to press a soft kiss to your velvety lips before pulling back to gawk at you again, cheeks dimpling adorably.
A giggle bubbles up from your chest as you swat at him, though your heart squeezes.
The most dreamy.
“How did you wake up before the alarm?” you ask, voice still thick with sleep.
Steve shrugs, grin never faltering. “I’m a light sleeper.”
“Something woke you up?”
When he doesn't answer, “What?” you press, brows furrowing.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “’S no big deal,” he assures, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’s just that...” He pauses, biting his lip to hold back a grin.
“You just... snore.... a little bit.” He squints, pinching his thumb and forefinger together.
You shot upright in bed. “What? I do not!” you protest.
“Yes, you do,” Steve says, grin widening as he clearly enjoys your reaction.
“Nuh-uh!”
“Uh-huh!” he counters back.
“Honestly, it’s adorable that such a tiny person can make such a big sound.”
You gasp, “Jerk!” Swatting at him when he leans in for a kiss. He laughs, dodging your swipe, smile as infuriating as it was endearing.
“You know what’s not adorable?” you shot back. “Those little twitches you do every night!”
Steve blinks, protesting quickly. “I don't do that!”
“Yes you do!” you exclaimed, poking a finger into his chest playfully. “You’re like a human earthquake. It’s scary, Harrington!”
He lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest. And before you can say another word, Steve pounces, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his hold. Fingers tickling your sides mercilessly, sending you into fits of laughter as you squirm to escape.
“Stop it! Steve!” you manage to get out between giggles, your attempts to push him away weak from how hard you were laughing.
⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ㅤ⠀ ͟ ͟ㅤㅤ♥︎ㅤ
Determined to make it up to him, you wore one of those nasal strips every night, for the following week. Convinced it was solving the problem.
Until you wake up, suddenly, and way before your alarm.
And even way before Robin's coffee. To find Steve's spot empty next to you.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you slip out of bed, padding down the hall, curiosity tugging at you.
And of course, there he is, sprawled across the couch. Legs awkwardly dangling over the edge, one arm thrown over his eyes.
Idiot. You could feel a gentle warmth spreading all over your body.
This absolutely selfless, adorable idiot.
“You have got to be kidding me,” your exclaiming voice startles him awake, making him groan groggily.
“You slept on the couch?” You ask, guilt bubbling in your chest.
Steve hums sleepily, clearly not awake enough to form a coherent response.
“All night?” That poor boy.
He murmurs something incomprehensible, eyes squeezing shut like he could will himself back to sleep.
“Are those stupid strips not working?” You asked frustratedly, and Steve was quick to shook his head, the motion muffled by his pillow.
You let out a sigh, narrowing your gaze at him, “If my snoring was always this bad, what the hell were you doing all those other nights?”
Before Steve can answer, Robin emerges from her room, hair a tangled mess and expression groggy. “He usually sleeps on the couch,” she hums, slowly slipping past you to the bathroom. “Sets an alarm and sneaks back into bed before you wake up.”
You blink, processing her words as your head slowly turns toward Steve. He’s sitting up now, looking thoroughly sheepish.
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” he says softly, tone so endearing that it tugs violently at your heartstrings.
And that’s the thing about Steve, isn’t it?
Always putting you first. Always thinking of you.
You stare at him for a moment, dramatic theatrics melt into something warmer. A smile tugs at your lips, growing wider until you can’t contain it anymore. Walking over to the couch, you kneel beside him as he looks up at you innocently.
Without a word, you throw your arms around him as you begin to smother his face with kisses, one after another, until he was laughing too.
“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter between kisses, voice filled with affection. “Sweet, but so goddamn ridiculous.”
Steve grins, hands sliding down to hold your waist comfortably. “You know I’d do anythin' for my girl,” he replies, tone thick with sleep and laced with that infamous Harrington charm that makes your heart flutter.
“But, I swear, Harrington,” you warn, pulling back just enough to meet his warm gaze, “if you ever sleep on this couch again, I’m tying you to the bed.”
His brows shot up, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Oh! I’ve always wanted to try that one!” he teases.
You scoff playfully before adding, “And I’m getting you earplugs!”
Before you can say anything else, Steve suddenly tugs you closer, pulling you onto the couch with him. “C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and tender. Plush lips pressing kisses all over your face—forehead, cheeks, lips, the tip of your nose—as he rambles sweet nothings in between, each one making your heart swell a little more.
“I love you,” he whispers, words melting into your skin like a promise.
You can’t help but giggle softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair, “Love you more, you idiot.”
Steve grins, fingers brushing off a stray strand of hair away from your face. “So…” He trails off, tone turning sly, brows arching in anticipation, “...about that tying up thing?”
You smirk, rolling off of him as you rise to your feet. He doesn’t let his gaze leave yours, chest rising with a sharp breath as he watches your figure.
Without a word, you saunter out of the living room, hips swaying just enough to leave him frozen in place, staring after you like a statue.
At the doorway, you glance over your shoulder to meet his dumbfounded expression. “Well,” you hum with a sly grin, “are you coming or not?”
His jaw practically drops. “C’mon, pretty boy,” you tease, tone dropping into a sultry hum that makes his eyes darken. “You’ve been really, really bad, and the punishment isn’t gonna be pretty.”
His breath catches, utterly frozen. Then, as if the exhaustion he’d been feeling moments ago has been completely erased, he springs from the couch with a groan. “God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that, right?” he mutters, all with awe and hunger as he reaches you.
Before you can react, he sweeps you up into his arms with an eagerness that makes you squeal. “Steve!” you gasp, laughing as he rushes you toward the bedroom like a man on mission.
Finally, the perfect morning routine.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fics#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n
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move like an odd sight, come out at night
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: hozier - "movement"
summary: you escape to hell's kitchen, but your reputation follows you no matter where you run. the vigilante on your roof, however, believes you're more than just a weapon.
wc: 2.9k
cw/tags: black widow!reader, canon-typical violence and blood, minor injury, explicit language, pre-ddba bc i put bullseye and fisk in this as antagonists, angst with happy ending, iris loves matt murdock's ass
note: *cautiously approaches 'marvel x reader' writing tag, sets this on the doorstep like a cat with a bird, and runs away*
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3
Truthfully, neither of you were very skilled at working with other people. It’s why you were vigilantes, not superheroes; heroes worked on teams and played nice on the playground. You preferred more direct forms of getting the job done, of swinging your pink plastic shovel and beating away kids threatening to invade your square of sandbox territory. Or at least, you did in the past. As of late, you only donned your tactical gear again because unfortunately, the best hiding place you could find was truly a shithole.
“Got anything yet?”
“No. Whoever’s talking about you, they’re making a point to do it quietly,” he replies, his expression blank as his ears sort through the noises of Hell’s Kitchen trying to find a needle in a city-sized haystack. He’s crouched on the brick ledge your legs dangle off of, looming over the street below like a gargoyle guarding a cathedral. “What was your plan the other night?”
“The night where you crashed my surveillance spot, you mean,” you quip. “And the same night I made the Devil jump out of his skin.” He sends a heatless glare in your general direction.
“What I’m hearing is, you didn’t have a plan and you’re avoiding the question.” Smart-ass.
“My plan was to listen in on police comms and get some extra energy out, but there was a trespasser on my roof.” He hums, satisfied with your answer. To your unwelcome surprise, you ran into both of his identities within twelve hours of moving into your crummy little apartment–Matt at the deli down the street and Daredevil on top of your building. Both times, you also caught him off guard to the point where he nearly threw the nearest cylindrical object at you. The first time it was a sandwich, and the second time it was a baton, but you only had Foggy to save you in the shop.
You can’t go throwing sandwiches at pretty ballerinas that come into the shop, Matt, you heard Foggy say when he thought you were out of earshot.
They’re a ballerina? Foggy snorts, assuming that Matt already knew you were jaw-droppingly stunning. In fact, he was waiting for the day his best friend came out as not actually being blind and only using it to reel in women.
Yeah. You would know they were a new teacher at the studio down the street if you weren’t busy trying to assault them with pastrami.
They caught me off guard, Matt dodges. What’d you want me to do?
Not scaring them off would be a good start. Jeez, I thought you were the charming one in this duo.
“I can’t say I’m a fan of a spy who can slow their heartbeat,” he admits, finally cracking the smallest of a smile. “It’s a cool trick, but pretty unfortunate for a guy who relies on hearing the bad guys.”
“Good thing I’m not an opponent, Murdock.” Like you, he’s not used to people knowing both his vigilante and his civilian faces interchangeably. You pieced together each other’s alternate identities the moment you interacted on the roof for the first time; your mind clocked his gait, his height, and his voice while he sensed the faintest scent of perfume he smelled earlier in the deli. Because of the accidental encounter, a severe lack of information regarding your new home, and a few other reasons you were purposefully hiding until the need arose, you begrudgingly asked Matt if you could run surveillance with him. He agreed, shrugging and asking if there would be people trying to come after you.
A buzzing in your pocket grabs your attention and you scowl when you see the dollar sign notification with a hefty amount of zeroes. “Problem,” you huff.
“What is it?”
“He put a bounty on my head.” The muscle in Matt’s jaw clenches. “Said to bring me in alive, thankfully, but I guess he doesn’t like I’ve been ghosting him. He also didn’t verify how alive I had to be.”
“He’s used to getting what he wants,” Matt explains with severe distaste. “Fisk isn’t a kind of guy you say ‘no’ to. Last guy who tried to tell him something he didn’t like–”
“Got well acquainted with a car door,” you finish unexpectedly. “Intelligence community, remember? We hear everything, including the brutal executions. It’s why he wants me in the first place.”
“A Widow in his pocket’s like having the Winter Soldier for a genie.”
“Ex-Widow,” you correct. “You know, I met the guy once. Big metal arm. Scary blue eyes. Not my type, especially the greasy hair.”
“Oh?” Matt allows amusement seep into his tone, despite the fact that your freedom just had a price tag put on it. “And what is your type?” You loose the first thought in your head like an arrow straight into his heart.
“A blind vigilante with a ton of Catholic guilt really get me going,” you answer casually and bite back a smile when he tries to hide his speechlessness. “I figure it’s easier to explain my history to him than Martin the accountant living a few doors down. Plus, the vigilante’s got a nicer ass.”
“I’ll bet,” Matt remarks and you allow yourself to feel the flutter in your stomach at his softer tone. You weren’t used to having a friend, let alone a friend who would help make sure you weren’t used as a weapon again. It didn’t hurt to flirt with him, just a little bit.
His head suddenly jerks to the side, concentrating. “Found ‘em.”
“Where?”
“Warehouse six blocks down. Fisk’s best prepping for a hunt.” A chill runs through your body and you exhale slowly through your nose to center yourself. It’d been months since you were freed from Dreykov’s mind control, weeks since you first arrived in the Kitchen, but the need to fight for your life was something that would never disappear. It constricted your throat, blurred your vision, and made your palms too clammy to hold a knife. Without the one-track-mind of a Red Room assassin, you found yourself able to feel fear…and it terrified you. “You alright?”
“Peachy,” you deadpan, your voice no longer melodically carefree.
“You’re not telling the truth,” he says and you swallow thickly. “It’s the one time I hear your heartrate go up, when you’re afraid.” Up until now you would work exclusively solo and you’re unfamiliar with someone who would call you out when you were scared. Your defenses raise immediately.
“Yeah. What about it?” He takes your standoffish nature in stride, rising from his crouched position and holding out his gloved hand to help you from yours. You take it with only a moment’s hesitation and let him give it a comforting squeeze.
“You’re not fighting alone anymore, you know. As long as you don’t shoot me, I’ll have your back if you have mine.” You nod and even if he can’t see it, it’s mostly for yourself anyway. “Unless, of course,” he continues with a shit-eating smirk, “you’ve got another blind vigilante in mind you’d rather–”
“Alright, Murdock. You’re done,” you chuckle, feeling more at ease. “Let’s get this done quickly; I’ve got class tomorrow.”
—
The confrontation could barely be considered a fight, and you easily would handle them on your own had Matt not been with you. Though, it was much faster having four fists throwing punches instead of two.
“You didn’t use the guns at all,” he notes once you’re both done knocking out and disarming the three dozen enemies in the warehouse. Catching your breath, you stick your batons in the sheaths on your back and shrug.
“You’re the one who said not to shoot you,” you point out.
“I appreciate the thoughtfulness.” His head tilts and you watch him listen to the labored breathing of a nearby thug. “One’s still conscious. I’ll get him.”
“He’s all yours.”
He stalks toward a guy who you would’ve assumed was unconscious and grabs him by the collar to reveal him very much awake. “Why’s Fisk after them so badly? Answer,” he hisses, “and I won’t break your hands.”
“I’ve found they talk if you dislocate their shoulder,” you suggest nonchalantly, your voice muffled under your mask. The guy’s eyes dart over to you, wide and bloodshot with fright. “Then, relocate it but slightly misaligned. Makes a weird kind of friction if you swing it back and forth.” Matt visibly pauses, considering your stomach-churning advice for a good ten seconds. He wasn’t used to working with others, let alone someone with your skillset; it was like having a slightly more stable Elektra, and that wasn’t much of an improvement. He doesn’t have time to act on your words, though, because suddenly the dam of information in the guy breaks.
“He’s scared of you!” The man exclaims and your eyes narrow.
“Scared of who?”
“Both of you,” he squeaks and looks back at you. “You were supposed to kill the Daredevil, not team up with him, you deceitful bitch!” Shit. Matt’s body goes deathly still.
“Fisk hired a Widow to kill me?” He asks lowly. Shit!
“He tried. That’s why he’s pissed.” The scene feels frozen, like a snowglobe on a high shelf. You didn’t necessarily feed Matt a lie; you rejected Kingpin’s offer the same night you went up to your roof, looking for a way to punch out your anger. “And you weren’t supposed to get involved,” he spits on the cowl and it’s the last thing he says before Matt knocks him out cold.
You stare at his back while he stands, your muscles tensed and ready to retreat or fight, however he reacts.
“You can take your hand off your gun,” he says without looking at you and your attention flicks down to your hands. You hadn’t realized your fingers found the cool metal on pure instinct. They feel naked without access to any immediate weapon.
“Are you upset?”
“Why would I be?” He turns to face you squarely. Every nerve in your body wants you to run, but you root yourself into the floor because your mind can’t understand how this so-called ‘friend’ could ever hurt you.
“Because I was supposed to kill you. Your archnemesis wants me to kill you.”
“And you didn’t,” he states patiently. “Your heart is racing.”
“I’m waiting for you to attack me, so I’m not sure what you expect,” you reply carefully. Puzzlingly, his posture remains relaxed, and it’s impossible to read what he’s thinking. “I lied to you. Aren’t you angry?”
“Why would I be angry for actions you didn’t take?” You blink and look down, suppressing your reflex to bolt when he approaches you until his boots are in front of yours. He murmurs your name, so quietly that only you can hear it. “I’m not Dreykov. You don’t need to plan an escape if you do something I don’t agree with. You’re your own person now.”
“Am I?” You whisper. “I get out, and yet I still feel like I’m nothing but a weapon.”
“I don’t think you’re a weapon.” Your body is still stiff as a board, waiting for a berating or a beating that won’t come.
“Then what am I?”
“A friend.”
Your mouth opens to reply, but a flash of movement catches your eye in the doorway you used to enter the warehouse. Acting on its own, your body shoves Matt to the side as an object goes flying past you and a stinging sensation blooms on your upper arm. You duck behind a storage container and find that your self-proclaimed ‘partner’ has disappeared into the shadows. Warmth drips down your arm and you remove your gun from its holster for the first time that night, steadying yourself.
“Alright, Widow. The boss is mad, so let’s not keep him waiting,” your assailant announces, his voice echoing off rusted metal walls. You hear him make a noise of disgust and kick something solid. “You left a shitshow to mop up, too. I thought you people were supposed to be clean killers. Quick with your target, just like me.” You fight through the adrenaline and finally piece together his identity with one word: target.
“Fuck off, Poindexter. I’m not going,” you snarl and immediately change positions to avoid a small knife that moved with the precision of a homing missile. The blade lodges itself in the metal where your head used to be and you don’t bother trying to yank it out. “Missed.”
“That was a warning, darling.” Creeping carefully from container to container, you catch the reflection of his nearly-identical Daredevil suit in the broken glass on the floor. It crunches beneath his feet as he paces leisurely, waiting for you to reveal yourself. “Let’s go, Widow. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. It’s just you and me here.” He thinks it’s just you.
He doesn’t know that Matt is here.
“How do I know you’re not gonna kill me when I step out?” Another phrase, another quick change of positions.
“If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be alive to mouth off.”
“You say that with such confidence.”
“This confidence is turning to impatience, so let’s go. Don’t make me take you in struggling,” he warns.
“Fine, but don’t throw anything at me, asshole,” you say with as normal of a voice as you can muster, reholstering your gun and stepping into the exposing moonlight. “Entrance in the front’s too exposed. There’s an alley out back we can go through unseen.” Without another word, he follows you to the rear doors and, for once, you’re relieved for your heart to be beating out of your chest. You figure it’s easier for Matt to track your movement.
“Fisk is pissed about your little tantrum the other night, but enough groveling will get you back in good graces.”
“Like I care about that,” you retort.
“You should. He won’t stop hunting you.”
“If he does, I’ll come after him myself.” You step out of the warehouse and the top half of your face is hit with frigid air. He was lurking somewhere, you could sense it. A small rectangle of paper crinkles under the toe of your boot and you peer down at it, smiling when you recognize the familiar font of Nelson, Murdock, & Page. “I’m not an asset anymore, Poindexter,” you declare once you’re both shrouded in the dark alley. “And I don’t fight alone anymore.”
Your stealth training takes over, slowing your heartrate and disappearing from his senses, if only for a moment. Before Poindexter can attempt to find you, there’s a whoosh of air in front of you and the sound of gravel beneath another pair of boots. Matt doesn’t give his enemy a chance to grab any projectiles, bruised knuckles striking in the darkness while you slip behind and knock out his legs.
When your enemy regains consciousness while slumped on the wet asphalt, there is no trace of the Daredevil or the Widow to be found.
—
Your students catch wind of your fondness of the ‘hot lawyer down the street’ a few weeks after you move into his apartment, and Matt doesn’t do much to keep your relationship a secret.
“Let’s, uh,” your voice trails off when you see him enter the studio for the first time, his mere presence making your cheeks outrageously hot. “Let’s run that combo one more time and call it a day, yes?” Your students follow your eyeline to the man waiting for you by the door and they all perk up at the same time, dancing with near perfection that makes you wonder if Matt should show up at the end of all your classes.
“Hope it’s alright I came to walk you home,” he greets with that easy smile that sends all sense of reason into the atmosphere.
“You were a definitely a distraction, but considering that we call the same place ‘home,’ I’ll let it slide,” you reply. His hands pull you by your hips and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your forearms resting on his shoulders.
“Can we go out tonight?”
“Don’t we always?” You ask, confused. “We’re out so much where I think our collective sleep hours are in the negatives.”
“Not on patrol,” he corrects. “Let me take you to that place you’ve been wanting to try. The one with the rotating pie stand.” Your mouth gapes. If there was someone who had a worse work-life balance than you, it was your boyfriend. Yet here he was, recommending you both skip patrol. “I wanna give you a proper date. Please?”
“Since when are we allowed to take nights off, Murdock?” You tease.
“Since I made a deal with Spiderman to swing through the Kitchen once a month,” he drawls, attempting to kiss you and frowning when you gently pull back like you’ve offended him. “Sweetheart.”
“You can’t kiss me until you tell me how you managed to pull off a deal with Spiderman.” His forehead creases above his red-lensed glasses.
“I called in a favor.” You know he can hear the skepticism on your face. He exhales before continuing, “I told the kid I’d proofread his friend’s job application. Some opening as a photographer for the Bugle.”
“You tell him you were a lawyer?”
“I told him I’m a very good lawyer.” The last of your students wave goodbye, their eyebrows waggling as they leave the studio.
“Well, counselor, if it is your professional opinion that we should go on a date tonight, I’d be happy to oblige.”
“God, I love you as a partner,” he breathes.
“For romance or vigilantism?”
“Both.”
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
#daredevil x reader#daredevil x you#daredevil x y/n#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x y/n#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel x y/n
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please do clarisse la rue x aphrodite reader who’s gorgeous and glowing and short like a ball of sunshine



- opposites attract -
Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Aphrodite! Reader
An - ive gotta rewrite by Abby series bc it’s not going the way I want it 😭 I wasn’t really sure exactly what to write so I hope this is good 🧍♀️🧍♀️
Everyone at camphalf blood knew who you were. Not for negative reasons however. Being a daughter of Aphrodite not only boosted your social status but it was also your actions.
The first to volunteer to help when the infirmary was low on staff, ready to take on any chore from helping run the camp store to labor jobs that required you to get dirty. Even when the saytrs felt as though they were being ignored by the demigods you helped give them their voice.
So when you of all people started dating clarisse the most intimidating person at camp it was a bit of a culture shock. Though with you sweet and kind nature you seemingly took the most aggressive cabin and somehow made them slightly calmer.
Though when people tried to approach clarisse about you her former aggressiveness would come back. Most things that involved you got her heated. The recent endeavor being you both Separated for the weeks capture the flag game.
“No you’re on my team it’s not for discussion” clarisse spoke as if she knew it was fact, her arms crossed and her armor on you couldn’t help but fall back in love with her.
“But it is for discussion because I’m not” you chuckled softly, a gentle smile crossing your features. “I’ll be fine Claire I’m not a child”
“I’m aware of that but what if someone on my team hurts you? Or what if you get hurt by one of our traps I don’t like not being able to protect you” she placed her hands on her hips trying to open her stance to you.
“Aww” you gave a playful frown tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Placing both hands on her cheeks you gave them a small squeeze. “I’m ok, besides I have charmspeak remember I know how to handle myself”
Her shifting weight and the look of annoyance on her face all showed she did care about you deep down, and as much as people wanted to Deny it clarisse was yours just as much as you were hers. “I’ll see you after the game pretty” stepping on your tippy toes you gave her a kiss.
Turning to start walking away clarisse began yelling instructions to you. “Wait! Make sure your breast plate is tight— oh! And be sure to wear a helmet an—-“
“I got it clarisse!” You laughed back at her, giving her a final wave.
——-
The games had already began with you being in charge of reclaiming the flag with Luke and his team.
Stepping through the forest you carefully looked around worried that maybe someone would jump out. Which like it was a movie happened. Red team kids running out with blades swinging. Blue team defending themselves and you mentally scolding yourself for not wearing enough armor.
Before you even realized it you had a deep cut in your calf. Landing on the ground with a cry of pain you looked back instantly having to dodge the falling camper.
“You good!” Luke shouted helping you up, limping some you found your balance breathlessly nodding. The red team currently had either been knocked to the ground or retreated in fear.
“The flags up ahead.. behind Zeus’s fist if I’m correct” you took a stance against a tree, using it as support. “I’m gonna stay here”
“You’re sure you’re fine” he asked cautiously. Even though luke knew clarisse couldn’t touch him he still didn’t want to hear her mouth afterwards.
You nodded giving him a semi confident look. “Just go” You chuckled sending him off.
Though it was quiet for a while you heard a crying like sound. Confused you pushed off the tree and started limping towards the noise. Through the trees and down to the creek you saw a hurt hell hound.
Most times you would of killed a monster without hesitation but this time… this time she wasn’t a monster. It seemed crazy but this hell hound almost seemed domesticated.
Slowly walking towards her You knelt down beside the dog. At first she bared her teeth at you acting as though you wanted to hurt her, but once she realized you meant no harm she pressed her snout against you.
Once gaining her trust you began to examine her leg. Realizing it was broken you made the conscious decision to quickly leave to grab some sticks for a splint. Petting the hound softly you got up limping away some.
The ground was filled with a multitude of twigs though finding your two heafty pieces of wood was easy. The sound of the conch and a campers scream filled your ears, nearly running back to the creek you saw about all of the kids from the two teams with clarisse and Luke in the creek, their weapons aimed at the hound that looked as tough she was going to attack.
“Stop! Oh my gods stop!” You screamed running in-front of her causing clarisse to dodge to the side and roll fully into the creek.
“Move!” She shouted. The other campers looking equally confused as you shouted a no back at her. “Are You insane?! Don’t go near it” clarisse scrambled out the water to quickly grab your arm.
You turned around trying to pull free only to be unsuccessful. The tension around you made you want to cry but right now isn’t the time. “I need you to trust me… please” you practically begged.
She looked you up and down with a look of worry before gently letting you go. Without another thought you knelt down to the dog, ripping your shirt in half exposing your stomach and began wrapping the hounds broken hind.
The dog was huge, given that she was a monster she was bigger than even a Doberman and beefier than a pit but that didn’t mean she was aggressive.
A few of the other councilors walked down to the water with Chiron standing on a rock near by. “She’s harmless!” You shouted trying to get the defensive campers to become calm. “See! If she wanted to hurt anyone she would of!”
Your urgency only convinced maybe a handful of kids. “It’s a monster.” Clarisse scoffed.
“Yet she didn’t try to bite me when I put her leg into a splint” You corrected. The hound nudged her head into your leg in a comforting way, trying to get your hand to begin to pet her.
Annabeth took a step forward, extending a hand the hound sniffed her before licking up her arm. “Seems harmless to me” the wise girl shrugged.
Chiron made his way down looking across the water and holding a hand up signaling for every camper to relax. “This game is dismissed. Grover summon the Cloven council, get them to set up a meeting so we can figure out what to do for the hound, and for you.. keep her with you until we have a plan”
———
The following week camp halfblood had a new pet. A hellhound you named Rosie.
Sitting with clarisse by the lake letting the water run over your legs from the docs. I’m the distance you saw Rosie swimming around enjoying playing with the water naiads.
“How did you know she wasn’t ruthless” clarisse asked turning her head to look at you.
“I guess the same way I knew you weren’t as mean as everyone assumes. It’s your aura, Rosie’s was soft and hurt begging for any form of kindness” you turned looking at her. The sun light casted across clarisses features illuminating her eyes and skin. “Your so beautiful” you smiled leaning over and softly kissing her
Clarisse smiled wide returning the kiss. She pulled away only keeping her hand on the side of your face. “What did I do to deserve someone like you”
You shrugged your shoulders happily. “Working out helped”
She pulled away with a playful attitude. Causing you to laugh and reach out to her once more.

#lesbian#wlw#clarisse la rue#clarisse pjo#clarisse x reader#percy jackson fanfiction#clarisse larue#clarisse my beloved#percy jackson show#pjo fandom#clarisse x female reader#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse x you
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What are their arguments like and who (if either) tends to pick fights more often? Does Lance make Keith sleep on the couch?
they're petty as hell and they fight for fun.
it's Lance who pretends to take offense at the most random things to get the ball rolling bc he's better at improv and Keith is either very awkward when he tries to start a fight, or he accidentally pushes them into a real fight.
it also helps Lance a lot with his little unreasonable neuroticisms. it's like an exercise in which they reassure each other how much they care.
Lance helps Keith distinguish their play fights from real fights by saying, very seriously, “I'm angry at you, Keith.”
that's how Keith knows shit just got real.
Lance knows when Keith is actually mad bc he goes quiet and refuses to look at him.
Keith gets off on how ridiculous Lance is. he enjoys the fight bc he loves challenges, and especially "making up" with Lance. he loves working for "forgiveness" because it's a game to see how fast he can make Lance smile. it's a personal victory when he gets Lance laughing and smacking at him in annoyance for winning.
Keith is aware that sometimes Lance gets a little insecure. and he knows simply telling Lance he loves him won't make it all dandy. so if Lance wants to berate him for seemingly looking at someone else or not immediately kissing him first thing in the morning, he's going to play along.
anything to make Lance happy.
the only times Keith ends up on the couch is when Lance is too annoyed by losing to admit defeat. he tells Keith to sleep on the couch and then shows up two hours later, bodily collapsing upon him to snuggle with him because he missed him. Keith always bursts out laughing when he does this, and sometimes they end up making out. one of them usually ends up on the floor when Kosmo joins them on the couch.
somehow, it's almost always Keith.
when they fight for real, it's nothing like their play fights. there's no tirades, no yelling, not even any screaming.
Lance's voice will lower, and his expression will be dead serious like he's back in the war looking through the scope of his rifle.
on the other hand, Keith will just not interact. his body language changes. he tenses up, especially at the shoulders, and widens his stance, like he's getting ready to receive a physical blow. he withdraws into himself and he avoids talking to Lance. he dodges any attempts and he walks away until Lance finally waits until he's in the bathroom (on the toilet, specifically bc if he's in the shower, he's capable of walking out and leaving a trail of water and soap) and then walks in, closing the door behind him.
“we're talking,” Lance will say firmly while Keith sits on the toilet and sighs heavily bc he forgot to lock the bathroom door again. (this is not the first time and it will not be the last.) he doesn't appreciate being cornered, but it's the only way Keith will actually talk to Lance and not run away.
even when they fight for real, Lance will not kick Keith out of bed. they might still be angry, but they have been thru too much to go to sleep without each other. they might start off facing away from each other, but eventually, they will migrate, either purposely or in sleep, toward the other.
sometimes, it's Keith who shuffles over and wraps an arm around Lance from behind, fingers threading with Lance's.
sometimes, it's Lance who scoots back until their backs are pressed together. and he reaches behind himself to wrap and arm around Keith. it's uncomfortable, and Keith knows this. and he eventually sighs and turns over to wrap an arm around Lance.
they never reject each other. Lance has received too much rejection from Keith to take it well, and Keith still has abandonment issues from the trauma of losing so many people.
sometimes, they both reach out and hold hands from opposite sides of the bed.
they never talk in these moments unless it's to apologize or to whisper, “I still love you. Do you still love me?”
And the other will say, “Of course I do, but sometimes you piss me off. Still, I'd rather you be here to piss me off, than be gone.”
in the mornings tho, the sun's rays will spill through the blinds, and one will wake to see their partner dappled in sunlight. and it's kind of hard to stay mad after that.
they wait until the other wakes, and then they'll talk, quietly and calmly, until it's either solved or they promise to work on the issue more.
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u have absolutely no idea what 'coffee caramels' did to me omg 😭 u write spencer and his mannerisms so WELL hsbsghdbdh so i come to u with a lil request if that's okay with u !!
spencer insists on playing pretend-doctor for reader who's sick (but denying it) so he invokes his technically-a-doctor card and gives his second opinion just to take care of reader n smother them w looooove
essentially just him teasing y/n and being the stupid Cute attentive nerd he is <3
(inspired by S5E3 where he gets stuck at the bau w garcia bc he was being stubborn abt his injury)
i am never ever Normal abt this guy 😞 i look forward to reading more of ur work and losing my mind over reid with u, aine !! mwa
hiii tysm for requesting, youre so fucking sweet!! <33 drop an emoji to let me know who you are and let’s loose our mind over our fav boy together anon!!!! also sorry this took so long, i wrote like 3k but then hated it so i started over, i love this prompt sm so i feel like i had to do it justice.
pspspsp i love s5 spence so fucking much... his hair went from beautiful to ethereal to mad sexy...s5 treated us well. requests are ALWAYS appreciated !!!!!!
soup. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k

you've been off it for so long, dodging virus after virus and disease after disease and just right when you thought that you are immune to sickness, you caught it. the inevitable fever.
there was no denying it, you've tried. after getting a headache, you popped a tylenol before you went to sleep, nonchalant. the next morning was when reality really came crashing down. a sore throat.
it progressively got worse throughout the day, and when you came crashing into bed after a long day at work, your nose was feeling stuffy and your were coughing, spewing sickness everywhere you went. you woke up in the middle of night sweating like you had just ran a fucking marathon and only able to breathe through one nostril unless you shift your body entirely.
you did not take to these news well. firmly in denial, you still planned to show up to work the next day.
except you didn't show up to work. sickly and delirious, the part when you press snooze then snooze again slip your mind and at one point you must've turn off your alarm entirely. drifting in and out of consciousness and slipping into dream after dream, it gets harder to tell what is real and what is not.
"y/n? y/n!"
now, it is very probable that the voice isn’t actually real, because why the hell would you be hearing spencer reid’s voice outside of work? the chances are slim to none, and despite the heat pounding at your skull you manage to smile. there is something unexplainably comforting about spencer’s voice, soft and deliberate. it would be foolish to say that under the mad spell he’d cast on you (him simply saying two words) he’s managed to melt away your headache, because he didn’t. you still feel like shit.
“y/n?”
you frown, the voice sounding too insistent and real and not matching up with the visuals of your dream. you feel a tapping on your shoulder and when you blink your eyes open you could’ve screamed.
you jump up and then backwards, huddling your blanket with you, scared for your life. because right in front of you is perhaps the most intimidating creature on the earth; spencer reid in a purple sweater vest with his face so close to yours he could breathe in your sickness, hair tucked carefully behind his ear.
“spencer?” you ask incredulously, but instead your voice comes out a rasp. you clear your throat, feeling something warm creep up your cheek. it might be a blush, but you blame it on the chills. you keep blinking, trying to regain your vision and feel instantaneous embarrassment. you look a mess, sick and dehydrated with dry lips and bad hair and you probably reek of morning breath. and spencer’s there, looking like heaven’s finest angel, smiling at you like he’s smiling at a person and not a monster. spencer has the tendency to treat and look at everyone like they’re the love of his life. you sort of hate it.
“hi y/n,” he breathes, crouching down on the floor before you on the bed. “i—“
“what are you doing here?” you’re too impatient to wait, still in shock.
now. you try not to make it obvious that you have a mad crush on spencer, because if the fact were to spill, you’re not eager cleaning up the consequences. it’s an unestablished, unspoken rule that should be common sense that no workplace dating will be allowed and usually it’s a ridiculous rule, because who the hell would want to date their coworker, like actually? work crushes are normal but they exist only in a part of your day, an eye-candy for you to stare at to get through the day, then you go home or go out and forget about them. who actually has serious work crushes, actually? actually? it’s ridiculous.
your defense is completely solid, you’d say. your number one defense is you can’t help the fact that you and spencer were meant to be friends. the moment you joined the team, you and spencer clicked together like two lego pieces, despite your clashing personalities. you find it refreshing to have someone like spencer, someone who’s soft and sweet but cunning and resourceful but thoughtful and kind, and it was equally refreshing for spencer to have someone blunt and straightforward but still patient enough to put up with him.
spencer doesn’t like physical touch but ever since your first week he made you the exception and if you could, you would parade the privilege around like a badge. what can you say, you’re proud to be spencer’s little exception, anyone would be. he makes you feel special, differently than the others do and what’s a girl to do? to have that great of a relationship with a coworker and not be work spouses and not be actually head over heels with the guy? how laughable.
it’s not something you’re proud of, however. you know it’s a lost cause, chasing after spencer. it hurts, sometimes, but you always patted yourself on the back with an ‘it is what it is.’ spencer, as sweet and vulnerable as he is, has layers behind his thinly veiled heart. he talks a lot but he never talks about himself and he never talks about the past so he doesn’t have to revive it, so all the memories are just wounds left out and neglected to burn. spencer’s trouble, definitely trouble, but it’s hard to be aware of the workload that spencer reid is when he’s rambling to you about something as innocent as halloween or knocking his knuckles on your knee during a flight trying to get your attention.
spencer blinks sheepishly, settling criss cross apple sauce on the ground, lanky legs twisting uncomfortably. “you didn’t come into work and you didn’t answer your phone,” he explains. “emily told me to go check on you.”
you nod. he’s here because emily told him to. it makes a lot more sense now. “i’ll head in the office now,” you say, making your way out of bed, wiping at your eyes. “sorry—“
“no you’re not,” spencer says immediately, not even hesitating. he places a hand on your upper chest, pressing you back down on the bed. the butterflies at the pit of your stomach throws a fit. you know he means nothing by the action—has spencer reid ever been the one knowledgeable about romance?—but knowing that doesn’t help the heat that spread up your cheeks that’s definitely not from the sickness. “you’re burning up,” he says. “i’ll get you some water. you should clean up,” he says, uncrossing his legs difficultly and then stumbling out the room, mismatched socks slipping on the hardwood floor.
you take advantage of the time that spencer’s not there and race to the bathroom, ignoring the blackout and the dizziness that threatens to make you faint from getting up too abruptly. you squirt some toothpaste onto your toothbrush and by the time you exit the bathroom, spencer is already there, waiting, except he’s by your desk, hands on a book.
typical.
he perks up when he hears your footsteps pad into the room, turning around, looking like a child who’s been caught with your book in his hands. you smile at him, albeit it’s a pathetic smile. you feel dizzy.
“you like toni morrison?”
“i love toni morrison,” spencer chirps, excitement bouncing all over his face. “especially her masterwork, beloved,” he looks back down at your red copy admiringly then sets it down. "get back in bed," he says, and you can't wrap your hand around how ridiculous the situation is. your coworker, or work crush, is at your house, checking your temperature and shooing you to bed to rest. "i bought you soup so you can eat up, i--"
“you bought me soup?” you ask, incredulous. spencer nods seriously.
“it's proven that eating soup makes people feel better, not just some stereotype. the right amount of sodium can help help relieve sore throat pains and the vitamins and minerals found in soup can play a very large part in recovery...i had a feeling you were going to be sick, it’s the weather, you know? everyone is catching the cold. you need to eat it before it gets cold, the heat helps with nasal digestion and also sinus pressure and it'll be useless if you ate it lukewarm...i’ll be right back…” and with the babbling his voice fades out as he walks back out to the living room, leaving you alone standing on the side of your bed. you look at the forgotten copy of beloved set carefully back onto your desk, smiling to yourself slightly before climbing back into bed, because spencer says so and spencer’s always right but mostly because your legs feel like they’re going to give out.
spencer is speedy, striding several steps at once with his ridiculously long legs that looks unnaturally lanky but once he reaches your room again, soup and spoon in hand you were already nodding off, head lolling and eyes slipping shut. spencer stops at your bed stand, thinking to himself for a second before balancing the plastic bowl of soup on one hand and using the other to gently nudge at your face, waking you up. he grimaces when he feels that your skin burns to the touch, a bright tint to your cheeks that he hates himself for liking because you're sick, he shouldn't be thinking that you're pretty or stuff like that.
spencer waves the thought away, determined to focus on his mission. deliver soup, make sure you're okay, and send his farewells. that's what emily told him to do, and even though derek added a "kiss her goodnight too, loverboy!" he's only going to listen to emily, because emily knows best.
yes. perfect. that's exactly what he's going to do.
"hey," he whispers, caressing his thumb across the lightly purple patch under your eye, frowning to himself. you haven't been getting good enough sleep, and he feels guiltier for waking you up, but then straightens himself up resolutely--no. emily said the soup must be delivered and consumed--just to melt again when your eyes flutter open, confused and traces of sleep still floating around your facial expression. "sorry," he mumbles, feeling oddly embarrassed. "it's just--i mean, you don't have to, jus' want you to eat something before you sleep again."
you sit up slowly, and once you're fully awake again, the smell of the soup hits you like a bucket of ice and you suddenly feel your mouth watering. you feel like a princess, sitting there with your hands crossed in your lap while you wait for spencer to unwrap the plastic utensils and tissues from its clear packaging, carefully opening up the lid of the soup on the night stand and hot steam floats around the room, engulfing both you and spencer in a bubble of tomato soup.
spencer, a planner that he is, didn't let you eat directly from the plastic take-out bowl from the restaurant and had rummaged through your kitchen for a bowl and pours half the soup into the ceramic, no spillage and perfectly clean. then he hands the soup to you, and you eat.
to say that spencer is concerned is to say the least. you're a profiler, and you're trained to pick up on this sort of thing but you only need to be a child with an undeveloped brain to work out that spencer's worried, watching your every move and monitoring that you eat enough, the crease in his brows deepen whenever you set the bowl down so you pick it up again and stuff two more spoonfuls in your mouth, to hopefully make him worry less.
the silence is awkward, the only sounds in the room is you biting down on the spoon occasionally as you drink your soup and spencer watching intently, hands on his chin and unaware of his staring problem. you and spencer rarely has these kind of silences, the silences where you scramble for things to say because the atmosphere would always be too comfortable. you sneak glances at him as you eat. since spencer's completely oblivious to the heaviness of the silence, you feel it's up to you to break it.
"i'll clock in once i'm finish eating this, don't worry," you say, trying your best to sound reassuring as you try to choke back a spoonful of soup too big. you lick your lips, and spencer is biting his, a bad habit.
"no you're not, y/n," he says, exasperated. normally, when spencer uses his 'i'm right so you should listen to me' tone like this, it means he's geared for an argument and you would be happy to challenge him, but now you can't find the energy for it. yet you muster enough up anyway.
"i'm only a bit shaken up 'cause of the weather," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible, still in the calm before the storm of the bicker. "'m not immobile. and i already used up all my off days visiting my family--"
spencer, however, didn't bother for the peaceful offering. "you're not coming in today, y/n," he says, and he sounds a bit anxious but you know his true intent. his eyes are mirthful with confidence, and he knows he's already won the argument. despite the buzzing in your ears and the fuzziness in your brain, you can't let the bastard win. you can't.
“i can’t miss anymore days spencer, and i won’t,” you say coldly, but you slurping on the soup hungrily like it’s your last day on earth sort of ruined your cool facade. “i’m not too sick, either, it’ll be useless for me to stay home—“
spencer reaches to press his palm against your forehead, his skin cold to the touch. you close your eyes instinctively.
“you’re burning up,” he announces. “means your sick. you’re not coming in today, y/n.”
“says who?” you say defensively, feeling a bit like you’re loosing.
“says me,” spencer says cooly, cheeky smile at his lips. you should hate it more than you do. “who’s a doctor.”
you scoff. “so now you’re an actual doctor? you got a medical phd on you?”
“i have a bachelor in medicine and enough doctorates to make me slightly knowledgeable in every field,” spencer quips and you didn’t even know that he had a bachelor in medicine. how many fucking degrees does this guy even have on his resume?
“whatever,” you grumble, sounding a lot like someone who’s just got defeated. you set the bowl of soup down on the nightstand and spencer hands you a bottled water before you could think about needing water. you pluck it from his offering hands, muttering a “thanks” under your breath.
spencer laughs quietly, watching you drink patiently and putting the cap back on when you hand him back the bottle, setting it next to your soup. you feel ridiculously babied and your cheeks burn with the guilt you feel. you’re talking him off his office hours just to be here and feed you stuff and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.
spencer, the 24/7 profiler, notices. "is something wrong?" he asks innocently, round eyes blinking and oblivious. bless him. "you got redder. is it too hot? i can adjust the a/c."
“fine,” you mumble, still a little embarrassed with your realization. “little cold, actually.”
“it's the chills from your fever,” spencer informs you. “i…” he pauses, frowning again, frustrated from not being able to finish his thought. he abandons it. “do you need anything else?”
“no spence,” you laugh sort of pathetically, throat strained. “you’ve been an angel already. you can go back to the office, if you want.”
spencer thinks back to what emily had told him. soup. make sure she’s ok. leave. he’s done the past two steps. it’s time he completes his mission.
but…
“are you sure?” he prods, a little bit of him hoping that you'd say no. he doesn't know what it is; something bothering him, making him dread leaving.
you didn't get the cue. "mhmm," you shoot him a reassuring smile. as reassuring as you can manage, anyway, grimacing at the insistent throb in your head. spencer gnaws on his bottom lip, indecisive. you don't know what he was deciding between.
whatever battle it was, he wraps it up quick. "okay," he repeats. "i'll get back."
"you do that."
"remember to drink water."
"i will."
"do you need me to bring you more?"
"i'm okay."
"okay."
"okay."
the conversation feels incomplete and spencer isn't interested to complete it, booting out the door, except he lingers for a bit and awkwardly turns around, hand on the frame. you are already looking at him when he looks at you.
you and spencer are never this awkward, never this hesitant and strange. the tension that suffocates your room feels like signature first-date-tension, the kind of nervous excitement and tip-toeing blind lovers and uncertainty.
"are you sure?"
i'd rather you stay. you push the response away. "i am."
"you have medicine right?"
you do have medicine. for a brief moment, you want to lie about it; want to say that you ran out this morning and then he would run to the store for you and return and then spend more time in your insufferable, sickly presence. you brush the thought away within a second. never in a million years do you want to bother spencer, especially not with a thing as selfish as that. maybe it's because of your biased vision but spencer is looking like he's desperate to leave, practically screaming for outlet at the door. it's time you let him go and indulge in the worst sleep you'll ever have.
"yeah," you say, clearing your throat. "i do."
"okay," spencer says. "i'll go."
"thanks," you add awkwardly. "for the soup. and for coming."
"'course" spencer says absentmindedly, lingering at the door frame but not looking at you in particular, not looking at anything. he snaps back and sends you a wave. spencer has a power to him where everything he does looks unplanned, like he's doing it against his own will.
he leaves. if you had change your mind and ask for him to come back, for him to stay, he would've. no hesitation. but you didn't, and he wiggles back in his broken in converses and return back to the bau with no elevator partner.
maybe another day.

a/n: sorry for the ending, this was getting too long so i had to cut it short 😓😓but i think it's kinda fitting! lmk if you guys want a part 2 <3
#spencer reid#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds#criminal minds fandom#matthew gray gubler#mgg#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid angst#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#my works
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Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 6

Propaganda:
Kiriwo -
"Seems innocent at first and he's just a guy with a special interest in magic items, but watch out."
Arjuna -
"MASKING KING!!!!!! ok joke aside one of his biggest things is that he's super scared that if anyone gets too close to him they'll notice he's not perfect/has a 'secret darkness' (that's literally just a guy) and overall a lot of his storyline is a strong parallel for being neurodivergent and becoming more comfortable with accepting it. he's also super strict and hard on himself for any sort of failure that isn't in line with what's socially appropriate but at the same time he doesn't always have a good grasp on what that is which is how you get stuff like him blowing up a forest to try and impress someone. it also runs in his family bc his brother is autistic as hell too."
Sherlock -
"God, where do I start? I mean what Holmes adaptation, even if he's not the main character, would this be if he were not autistic coded? And our combo of autism and ADHD is absolute perfection, all tied up with a pretty, excitable face. Hit him with the crime hyperfixation and do not make him wear socks."
Apollo -
"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."
Heiji -
"90% of the cast in detective conan is autistic but heiji is the most autistic of them all."
Urara -
"Another alien who is so excited to dance with everyone that he does not understand that his intended purpose of inviting people to dance via water communication is brainwashing them into dancing and is causing extreme chaos. He nearly causes an apocalypse by being so excited about dancing but he apologizes and tries to make friends with Yuki at the end of the story. He is extremely soft spoken and try, finding it difficult to begin conversations and fidgeting."
Shu -
"speaking specifically about the first season but he was the "explains everything so the audience knows whats happening" guy. he was pretty antisocial (not sure if thats just how he was or if he lived alone [which was fucked up cause he was 11]) . im trying to think of more but my brain goes hghghhhggggh im just a big fan of him."
Vash -
"ain’t no way i’m the only one who’s submitted him. go look at the gif of him crawling in the dirt like a bug while he dodges bullets and get back to me."
Hyakkimaru -
"Due to a terrible curse he has lived his whole life without several body parts including his eyes and ears. Because of this he is often overstimulated and awkward in new situations (when he doesn't do what he does best, killing monsters and samurai with his sword arms) He can't say or express much, and often comes off as strange and creepy, but he is actually a cutie patootie full of emotions, has a big heart, a keen brain, endless inner strength and loves the people close to him! This adorable, cursed, demon slaying boy deserves everything!"
Kei -
"He has the tbh face. Also he canonically has sensory issues and gets sensory overload. He constantly wears earbuds. He has an extremely rigid sense of morality and considers himself a savior figure. He has a hard time relating to other people and is a bit awkward in his interactions."
#tumblr polls#autistic anime boys poll#prelims#kiriwo ami#welcome to demon school! iruma-kun#arjuna#fate grand order#sherlock holmes#moriarty the patriot#apollo justice#ace attorney#heiji hattori#detective conan#urara#tsuritama#shu kurenai#beyblade burst#vash the stampede#trigun#hyakkimaru#dororo#kei miyama#paradox live
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one last leon thought b4 i move on… loosely based on “the crush” bc that movie was erm. strange..,, but also i can’t help but think how that would go with leon……. so!
NOT tagging this in leon x reader or whatever the fuck.,. crybaby population there has been thriving beautifully
tw: age-gap, non-con (leon gets touched), intoxication, f!reader is a sick brat like actually

dad’s friend AND neighbor death island leon who is a very lonely man. and you’re a spoiled daddy’s girl who always got what she asked for growing up. taking a fancy to him, you think leon would happily take you as his girlfriend because you’re just so pretty and any guy would be lucky to have you!!
until leon tells you no. that you’re too young for him even if you’re an adult by law. laughs it off, calls it a puppy crush and tells you you’ll forget all about him once you “find the one”… which of course pisses you the fuck off because what does he mean no???
developing an icky obsession with leon, sometimes watching him work out or undress from your house’s windows. you can’t help but touch yourself to seeing him in these moments, wondering if he’d make the same faces thrusting into your cunny as the ones he makes when doing a particularly hard workout. you wonder if you’d be able to fit all of his cock into your mouth, what his cum tastes like.
even despite his refusal, you keep trying to appeal to him: wearing slightly if not terribly revealing clothing, bending over with an arch in your back after you’ve dropped things on “accident” or you’re asked to get things at lower levels. leon’s eyes obviously wander—he’s a man. but he’s logical and never acts. treats you like a kid. respectful and puts distance between you two.
you hate it. you hate him. you hate that for the first time in your life, leon is nothing your dad can simply get you with a pretty penny. and you definitely hate it when leon finally finds a woman to bring home. she isn’t even that good looking, not as much as you are. and still, leon smiles at her like a lovestruck fool—smiles at her like she’s important. oh, you hate it.
you get angry at leon, naturally. you start tossing his own things at him, screaming profanities and crying as if you were a devoted wife that caught her unfaithful husband in the act. better yet, he has the audacity to look lost, catching or dodging anything you toss at him if it got too close with a furrowed brow. he’ll tell you to knock it off and to get the hell out of his house after the shock wears off, dragging you out by the arm like an owner with a misbehaving dog before shutting the door after he’s tossed you onto the front porch.
leon doesn’t tell your dad. he should’ve, but he doesn’t. you’re just a misguided kid, but you’re not his to correct. all he knows is to stay even further away from you. he didn’t even understand why you suddenly showed up the way you did, and he doesn’t want to find out. you clearly aren’t okay.
you still don’t let up. you want him more than any stuffed toy and designer item, but he’s gotten so far from you. so you target the closest thing to him which just so happens to be that bitch he’s always with. you don’t do anything too harsh—simply tell her he’s not what he seems, that he’s a dirty old man that’s actually been fucking you when she’s not around. that he doesn’t love her, not really. he likes younger girls with baby soft skin, not wrinkly hags with cowhide-textured flesh. if you could kill her, you would—but you’re spoiled, not stupid.
it drives her away, in tears, but away nonetheless. good for you, but a catastrophe for leon. he’s a mess the next time you see him, bottles littered about, eyes heavy with exhaustion and a less vibrant energy about him. you almost feel bad—though you didn’t come to join him in his pity party. he tells you that he isn’t in the mood for guests, yet you insist that you formally apologize for how you acted a few days before, keeping him from closing the door on you again. and maybe it’s the desperation to hear a woman’s laughter, the need to feel her presence, in the quiescent house that hypnotizes leon to let you through.
he has no reason to be crying to a fresh college girl about his failed love life, about everything that’s led up to this moment. he doesn’t think you care (he’d be right) and he’s a grown man, but the alcohol makes his tongue loose. you don’t have to do much before he’s leaning into your touch, the hand on his back going in circular motions eliminating any sense of self-preservation he might have had left as it sneaks to his front and unzips his jeans with the undoing of his belt, pulling them all down alongside his boxers.
he cries like a boy when you wrap your hand around his limp cock. this wasn’t as exciting as you thought it’d be—maybe because he actually wants nothing to do with you but can’t find the strength to push you away. you’ve won, but where was the sense of victory to accompany it?.. if you tried harder, surely it would reveal itself.
you climb onto him after sliding your panties to the side, straddling his lap as he shakes his head, marble blue eyes doing the begging where his words failed. he’s still sober enough to know that he doesn’t want you, but a quick remedy to that is the tight warmth of a pussy—it’s enough to make anyone stupid, and leon is no different.
his cock twitches inside you when you finally settle, his head tilting back with an involuntary moan. he’s hard, at his full potential. nothing you’ve ever felt before, the thickness stretching you out nicely as you begin to bounce on him. he’s babbling for you to put an end to your cruelty—again, you’re too young. this is bad. just stop.
you’re tired of it. so you wrap your arms around his head, bringing him close to your bare chest. his stubble tickles you, the tears of a grown man applying a delicate radiance to your skin. his body contradicts all verbal refusals as his hips buck into you, muffled sounds vibrating against your tits. your pussy sucks him in nicely, too nicely, that he can’t help but blow his hot load into you as a thank you.
it overflows, filling you to the brim and some. cum slips down his twitching dick towards his balls in a glob. it’s slow, sticky, and leon is still for a moment. the silence doesn’t live long before his sobs wind up once more, the man stripped of dignity, the last thing he could pride himself on.
yes, he might’ve been right; maybe you are too young for him, maybe he’s too old for you. though it’s not like he had any say in the situation anymore, because no one would believe the alcoholic rapist over the sweet, defenseless girl.
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Hey howdy hello again! Wrote the one thing with reader cookie stabbing Burning Spice with a dagger despite having their leg broken off. I’m back about the beast ancients au I was talking about in the first part of that ask, since you didn’t say anything about it, I just assumed you didn’t want to hear about it. No worries, I don’t mind!
Anyways I’ve had a hell of a time hammering out the specifics of what’s going on, as it turns out planning a war is a huge pain in the ass. But I’ll just toss you the more interesting bits and get out of your hair.
For context, the main cookie this all revolves around, Star Heart Cookie, created a barrier to protect her/their kingdom. The caveat to it being that so long as you genuinely don’t want to kill the cookies within the barrier, you can walk in and out whenever you want
(For the sake of this ask, Star Heart is the reader insert and is thus getting they/them pronouns, there’s a different set of cookies meant to be the reader inserts but I haven’t gotten there yet so :p)
So, where to start I suppose.. probably Vanilla. True Vanilla Cookie specifically
Yeah bro is trying to pacifist ending Shadow Milk, and SM is just kind of offended? Bc Vanilla ascended to become the Beast of Totality, and is essentially trying to become the holder of Knowledge without getting the other soul jam. This has, predictably, really messed him up. But he still makes it a point to go on weekly picnics to see Star Heart. (The fact that he doesn’t know whats weakened them so much is driving him insane)
One of the other beasts who can pass through the barrier, Mythril Lily Cookie, also shows up to ensure that Star Hearts barrier holds. Though she is a little very concerned about the fact that no matter what, Star Heart never seems to be getting any better. When she isn’t having picnics or trying to dodge True Vanilla’s game of 20,000 questions, she’s usually coordinating an attack on one of the beasts. Usually whichever one happens to be closest to wherever Dark Enchantress is or is planning to use at the time.
Frostbite Cacao is currently trying to plunge all of earthbead into an ice age so that his friends will gain the same resolve that he has. Well, it’s more like so he can usurp their kingdoms bc he thinks they don’t run them very well, but who’s asking? Side note; he’d also actually be allowed through the barrier if it weren’t for the fact that Dark Choco lives within Star Hearts kingdom. He’s also mega paranoid about the fact that Mystic Flour isn’t attacking him anymore. (We’ll get to her don’t worry)
Toxiberry (still not sure about the name) is having a depression due to lore reasons. But due to the power of being a raging alcoholic, you can’t even tell :DDDD Nah but seriously, she and her army are constantly on the move since she knows Lily is looking for her. She’s also hoping that it lures Pitaya Dragon back so she can try and get them to on her side to hopefully gain the upper hand on Eternal Sugar, who has even more beef with her then usual, again, due to lore reasons (I wasn’t actually kidding about the depression thing btw, that’s definitely there)
Gilded Cheese (has very upsetting reasons why she’s called that) is currently trying to revitalize the desert with her new waterbending abilities :)))) you do not want to know what happened to give her that power, I promise. On the bright side, she can also electrocute things now, so that’s neat. She’s generally the closest to her normal self here if I’m honest. Though she’s spending most of her time bringing water to the desert (very suspicious water) and trying to weedwhack the hell out of Vanilla’s creepy orchids that keep spreading. She would also be allowed through the barrier, but only by technicality, since she’s only trying to kidnap Star Heart to use their power to enhance the soulcheese. (And Smoked Cheese is hoping to use them to usurp Gilded but yk shhh)
Onto the og beasts, none of which are allowed through the barrier, for obvious reasons.
Shadow Milk is very busy pretending like he’s not bothered with what’s going on. He’s free now! Why should he care what the others are up to? (He cares immensely) He’s honestly very concerned with how far True Vanilla is getting with his plans, and is pivoting to something else since he knows his usual tactics won’t work. Which ends up in him sending party after party of warriors to ascend the vines up to the Vanilla kingdom in order to break Vanillas focus to stall for time as Shadow figures out a more permanent solution. At least he’s found a new way to infuriate him, by simply saying nothing at all.
Mystic Flour is in the middle of her own plan, which is to use Cacao’s paranoia against him. So currently she’s waiting at the top of her mountain pagoda for him to inevitably break and go after her. She’s also sent Cloud Haetae Cookie to scout out a new meditation spot closer to the Dark Cacao kingdom to better keep watch on it. And definitely not because Star Hearts kingdom is literally right next door, not that at all, nope, not even a little.
Eternal Sugar is completely incensed and is personally hunting down Holly to the ends of earthbread for the sheer audacity of… the lore reasons (I promise it’ll at least be interesting) Or at least she would be, but most of the time Eternal Sugar looses them (literally how it’s an entire army?) and decides to fall asleep until she senses her other piece nearby again, and then she’s off like a bat out of hell.
Burning Spice, is behaving irrationally, even for his standards, which is saying something. Specifically speaking, he’s… well he’s waiting on the barrier, hasn’t really moved since the Beast War ended. The only thing that does get him to move away is whenever Gilded Cheese is anywhere nearby. He knows she’s gonna keep trying to get in, so he just waits. What he’s waiting for? Star Heart, and their very special ability that they use every single time cookies attempt to go for the barrier. From within the barrier, Star Heart can actually see him waiting for them since their tower is the highest point in the kingdom. That, and that point in the roof is the only clear spot in the barrier, everything else is stained red due to the permanent spice storm that surrounds the place.
And Silent Salt, who isn’t actually on the continent right now. During the Beast War, he spotted something leaving and decided to follow it on the hunch that if he didn’t, things would get a lot worse. Unfortunately, as the one he was following ended up being Longan Dragon, he isn’t going to be able to prevent him from starting shit.
Alrighty then, that’s that, thank you for your time and all of the lovely writing
-ephemeralcryptid
Now that was quite the read.
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what do u think of jay's hands shaking when dodging lee's handshake/shaking when the bright light was put on him? ur the best jay analysist i know so im here for your take lol... wasnt sure if it was an animation thing since he never did it again but that handshake moment cant rlly be explained if thats the case
also wanted to know your thoughts on jays expression when nya yells at him? He doesnt really look all that upset leaving, just frowning and more petulant with the huge frown. The only real expression change is when nya mentions being a hero in whch his eyebrows furrow. Nyas pretty upset about him leaving but he just quips not to die before he gets his money. doesnt seem hurt at all that he was essentially used again.
also, if jay does leave and not come back again, would nya even go afer him again? i love jaya so i hope she does, but idk... i dont mean it in a 'she'll give up' but in ep18 she seems to think jays memory loss is somewhat of a loss cause.
love that you trust me with jay analysis bc yeah i have so many thoughts LOL. maybe too much……… but anyway. jay. hmmmmmm.
i will be completely honest w u anon. i didn’t even notice the handshake at first and for the life of me i can’t find the bright light part. BUT. i just rewatched the handshake, and at first it just seems like a little thing that could be brushed off. but i watched it a couple of times. And. U you can actually see his expression change even as lee puts his hand out to shake nya’s coz he knows his turn is coming. so he comes up with a way to dodge it . But. i mean. we’ve known jay has a weird relationship with touch now. i haven’t watched the leaked eps in super heavy detail yet, but espppp at the end of p1 you can tell he’s heavily against being touched,,,,, he’s jerking away anytime any of the ninja try to show him any physical affection, keeping his distance, etc
i really really hope they go into more detail on it. coz i don’t think it’s about touch itself necessarily,, because he seems to be fine dancing with nya, and there’s other times through the eps where he looks ok with it. not super duper Happy but he’s fine. so i think it might be about control. when he knows it’s coming and when touch is on his terms, it’s fine. when it’s not, it feels threatening. Poor guy has been traumatised to hell Wtf did ras do to him💔💔💔
and yeah, i don’t think nya yelling at him hurt him either. at that point he’d emotionally detached from all of them. he doesn’t feel safe enough or close enough to actually care about her feelings,,,, he’s mostly just irritated. even his final words were delivered so offhandedly . he dgaf big time likeeeee
and honestly i don’t know what to even say about nya because her whole approach this season feels weird. a little out of character. Like . this is the girl who told jay “you don’t have to pretend to be anything you’re not to impress me” AND “you are the best you” like. girl. Oh baby. listen to urself. but then again . gotta consider . It’s been a very very VERY long time since then. and they’ve all been through a lot. and jay’s been missing for an extremely long time. nya’s probably built up how she thought their reunion was gonna go in her head over and over again and it’s just Not That at all. so she’s lashing out because she’s hurt and the person who’s hurting her doesn’t seem to care at all which makes it even worse. she’s not perfect and neither is he and it’s all just a mess rn
that being said, i don’t think it’s gonna be nya going after jay. and streets are saying that at the end of one of the eps (??) you see someone following nya with lightning in the air. again i haven’t watched the eps in detail and idk exactly what the vibe is but i can’t imagine nya trying again because she seems to have shut down
sooooo it’ll probably be jay initiating this time. But i’m really curious where they’re gonna go with it, coz he seemed soooo incredibly done with all of them
#this got silly long#But there’s just so so much to say on jay and his relationship with the others now#like there’s LAYERS to this heartbreak#ninjago dragons rising#ninjago dragons rising spoilers#ninjago leaks
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