#i need to flesh it out more but her father was who she got it from who was Also born that way instead of being bitten

[enslaughts]

regarding. . .          jacob black + obsessive compulsive disorder.

as you’d expect,  control is a big aspect of any werewolf’s personality. it’s borderline essential to most werewolf characteristics if one wants to interact cohesively with the rest of the world.     however,  jacob handles his own sudden,  un - anticipated lycanthropy with far less grace than most others he knows.     overnight,  jacob’s entire life is turned upon its head without his consent,   accompanied by the trauma of his first shift and what it means to be a werewolf at all,  the cushion to all of it is a man he’d been so suspicious of,  pulling friends and acquaintances bit by bit away from their previous lives until they’re no longer familiar.     it’s a lot,  on top of the everyday stresses that come with his life already,  as well as his more recent investment in helping bella cope with her own demons along the way.     his life is suddenly dangerous and unfamiliar in every place he needs it to feel safe and secure.     his actions themselves and even his own feelings are suddenly so untethered from the person he spent all his life becoming,  they barely feel like his anymore.

there are two main components to most anxiety disorders.  the given anxiety itself ;  specifically,  the initial process of something causing distressing,  persistent anxiety, and then often the resulting dysfunctional behaviors that reduce the anxiety. ocd itself can have noteworthy  ‘ types ’ :  cleaning and contamination,  symmetry and ordering,  forbidden or harmful thoughts and impulses,  and hoarding.     because jacob’s symptoms lie most in the ordering and thoughts / impulses category,  i will only be going over these two in this headcanon.

ordering  :  a big part of jacob’s anxiety is over control, moreover the lack of it.     the feeling that he does not belong to himself.     his thoughts and feelings are shared with an entire pack of other people when he’s a wolf.     his future partner is borderline, if not entirely guaranteed, to be someone he won’t get to choose,  but instead his brain will choose for him,  which in of itself isn’t nearly as terrifying as the prospect that he won’t even be able to choose for himself how he gets to feel about it,  that even his right to forming his own thoughts will be robbed of him.     shifting into a creature that’s just as powerful as it is deadly is something that can happen to him at the drop of a hat,  at any moment,  as long as his emotions behave even remotely in their own accord,  which, is how emotions tend to work.     

this is one of jacob’s obsessions,  and what helps to reduce this is to meticulously keep track of and control what he needs to believe is his.     naturally,  this means most of this meticulousness is reserved for his own things ;  his room,  his belongings,  his clothes,  his hair.     everything has to be a certain way now,  because in everything he does,  there's now a desperate need to keep hold of it,  a compensation to the thought that he's going to lose it all.     everything in his room and garage has it’s place,  deliberate and intentional to the point that if someone touches or grabs at one of his things,  even if it’s to simply look and set back down,  his anxiety spikes and he will one hundred percent hover,  escalating - ly irritable until he can personally return it to it’s rightful spot. another habit to reduce this feeling is being deliberate and habitual with his own body.     routines like morning jogs,  or the time in which he showers or wakes up,  are opportunities to own his own physical actions.     if outside any of specific routine of his,  counting his own steps is an accessible method to achieve the same sense of security within his own actions.     brushing or braiding his hair is also helpful and another reason why he doesn’t want it cut,  as well as the permeating desire to remain as himself as he was before he was a werewolf.

thoughts  and impulses  :  this one’s honestly the doozy of the two.     actions are worrisome and the impulse part of the two,  but the idea that his own thoughts aren’t his is foundationally distressing to his sense of autonomy.     with being part animal comes the instincts of one—   the instincts of a predator at that ;  to hunt,  to prioritize and optimize survival,  to respond to fear with violent self defense or complete concession,  to obtain security through physical feats.     most of these behaviors are a direct contrast to his personality before his first shift.     the person he thought he was and wanted to be was generous,  thoughtful,  nurturing,  warm, to fix things and to thrive,  to do things just because,  no personal survival or reward necessary,  no need to compete in the ongoing power struggle of nature.     that’s not to say wolves don’t participate in any of these qualities—   in fact,  jacob knows real wolves’ behaviors aren’t that black and white or brutal.     [ funnily enough,  this fear - fueled black and white thinking can be more alike to the animal instincts he’s desperately trying to avoid ]     it’s the anxiety of the shift itself being something he doesn’t get a say in,  that it’s completely at the whim of fickle,  moment to moment,  fluid and irrational emotions.     that anxiety only ever snowballs any stress he might already feel that could prompt a shift.     anger that would otherwise be fleeting becomes fear that his mind can’t stop obsessing over until he can soothe it somehow,  assure him that he is in control,  and that he won’t hurt anyone unless he himself decides to.

unfortunately,  one of the quickest and easiest ways to stop a shift is pain.     intense pain interrupts the self defense mechanism of shifting to prioritize the healing process instead.     if ever jacob feels like he’s genuinely on the verge of an unintentional shift,  the quick snap of an arm over his knee or clamp of the jaws into his hand is usually enough to short - circuit the process,  moreso if the shift has already come  and gone before he could stop it.     pain becomes soothing,  an act he feels the benefit of choosing,  as well as controlling a shift and ensuring that if someone is to suffer for his lack of control,  it will be him alone,  and it will be his decision. another far less damaging coping method is to just. . . ask someone for help.  this is rather simple,  but it requires far more patience and awareness than breaking his own bones,  as well as admitting out loud to others something he’s deemed a moral failing of his,  a personal defect.  even just asking someone to remind him who he was is can be grounding,  which is something he would have learned the moment bella responded to the voicing of his fear of losing himself with reassurance that he just wouldn’t,  that she’d be there to remind him,  whenever he needed,  that she simply wouldn’t let it happen.     that confidence in ones own ability is something he envies as well as hopes to believe in,  even if it’s childish,  even if it’s vicariously through whoever gives it, if he trusts them enough for it to mean something to him.     group activities that engage his sense of self before monsters existed offer a dual calm,  one instilled by doing the activity itself,  another by having someone else to verify and confirm his own behavior to him just by being there to respond to the familiar,  human jacob that always existed before he ever had a reason to question it.

a tragic irony is that when jacob is a wolf,  most of these anxieties evaporate immediately and get replaced with a simpler experience of reality.     instincts sharpen the world,  narrow it to focus,  refine actions and reactions to the present moment in which fear is much harder to conceive,  as fear by nature is based on theoretical what - ifs.     eventually,  a healthier way to experience his own lycanthropy would be to accept all aspects of himself,  both human and wolf,  but with the entire invasion of the supernatural into his life so fresh,  he’s desperate to cling to his own personhood,  which is very much steeped in the version of him that didn’t even know werewolves existed,  much less that he was one and what it means.

there’s no room to learn what kind of werewolf jacob black wants to be when he doesn’t feel like that’s something he ever got to choose,  or ever will.     and so,  it remains something to fear,  which means it remains something he cannot control.

[comingdownwithme]

is... is that a kate I see..? Can.... can we get information on her? I beg

Just gonna drop both Toby and Kate here to finish off the proxies- (Didn't include Tim or Brian since apparently they're not proxies but also because I haven't watched MH yet </3)

Anyways, there will be some descriptions of body horror (for Kate specifically) but it will be warned before each paragraph!

Kate the Chaser

Kate Milens was raised by the Woods for most of her life, growing up unafraid of the wilderness that grew beyond the walls of her childhood home. After a series of unfortunate events as she grew older though, and as her baser human instincts push her to run despite the ache of her injured and weary limbs, Kate found that there really was something to fear beyond the treeline. She could hear it speak, it's voice a cacophony that echoed around her- within the base of her own skull- offering her reprieve and a greater purpose if she would just give in.

[DESCRIPTIONS OF BODY HORROR FOR THIS PARAGRAPH] Woke up unable to recall anything that had happened before she first awoke and with a dull ache akin to the sting of a healing injury over every muscle and joint of her body. Found out later on that the skin over her jaw and nose had been flayed, fresh burns mark her limbs, and maggots had once burrowed into her very flesh. They're healed now thanks to him.

Gloves and hoodie are stolen from her victims, and her shirt, boots and jeans are what she had woken up in. She washes them the best she can in nearby rivers.

Good hunter and a decent cook. Usually provides food for both herself and Toby when she can.

White eyes! And they glow! Spooky! They give her pretty good night vision, but that leads her to being sensitive to light.

Despite the both of them being close proxies, Kate is more connected to the slenderman than Toby is. Where she can hear him despite great distances, Toby needs to be at a certain, close radius to hear the slenderman, though the both of them could still recognise when he's near and if they're needed.

Faster than Toby. She's called The Chaser for a reason, and trying to outrun or outlast her is the worst mistake you could make.

Pretty quiet and doesn't talk often with her fellow proxy when he's around. She's more of a listener and listens (and or zones out) of any topic Toby is on about.

Ticci Toby

Tobias Erin Rogers was someone who's deeply familiar with the feeling of isolation. Being ostracised from a young age due to circumstances he can't control, his only reprieve was the company provided by his older sister and the sons of the family just down the street from his own home, though even that wouldn't last as Toby's only friends were torn away from him, and both his mother and sister had passed not long after they had left, leaving Toby alone with a sorry excuse of a father and an empty house.

Fortunately for him, something had noticed his suffering, and it reached an elongated, outstretched hand as it gave him the option to leave this life behind.

Whereas he was a quiet, introverted boy when he was younger, Toby currently is outgoing, excitable and manic, and is often careless during the job due to his general demeanor and the fact he can't feel pain. This also leads him to be fascinated by how his victims feel pain, and he likes to study their reactions.

He's got special eyes like Kate! They don't glow in the dark like hers does, but he does still have night vision.

Pyromaniac! If he could, he'd take the opportunity to set his victims on fire or set their shelters or belongings on fire. He's also in charge of setting controlled burns in the areas of the slenderman's territory where he needs him to.

When desperate times call for desperate measures, Toby won't hesitate to turn to cannibalistic tendencies on his victims.

Physically stronger than Kate.

Absolutely ass cook, don't let him near a stove.

The hoodie he wears under his parka and the axes he holds are some things he brought from the life he left behind, most everything else was stolen off his victims.

Nose piercing! He knows he must have had it before he became a proxy, but if he thinks about it too hard, he'd start getting a headache or start tearing up.

Visions of his past life sometimes slip through, though unlike Kate's where hers are rare and short-lived, Toby's memories slip often, especially when he's asleep where whatever past life he had left behind twists to haunt him in his nightmares. These instances piss him off, and he sees them as a moment of weakness.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Astray far away. Ch.2

Adar x reader | ch.1 - ch.3

You spent your first day in the Uruk village

Meet Grasho the clothes maker, she's a fun one!

WC:2.5k

It was morning again when you woke up.

Or, at least you thought it was morning. It was difficult to tell time with the sun blocked, but the noise outside made it clear you slept longer than everyone else. 

You laid in a house only partially damaged. The first thing in your view was a neatly folded set of clothes and a pitcher of water, along with small fruits as well. 

You ate in silence and got dressed, learning the clothes consisted of uniform pants the attacking troops wore, and a black cotton tunic, too large for your frame.

The pants had some repairs done on them, the front and back of one thigh had messily stitched closed holes that were clearly from an arrow, and light discoloration was still visible around the patches. The embroidery on the side showed they belonged to the attacking troops, so had Adar truly sent someone to take these off a fallen soldier and get them ready for you? 

As you pulled down the tunic over your body you grazed a sore spot on your ribcage, wincing and recalling the night before when Adar's clawed glove had carved your skin. 

You pulled one arm free from the garment and threw it over your shoulder to try and inspect the area, pulling aside your breast to be able to see.

To see dried cuts, upside down to your current view you needed a moment to figure out what it said and pull down the tunic in a quick motion as you realized.

ADAR sat in raised cuts, soon to be scarred into your flesh for your remaining days.

Once dressed you set out into the area, shocked when you stepped outside and saw the change already made to what was once a torn down village. 

An Uruk walked past, just as you stepped outside, he sniffed at you and a wide toothy grin appeared on his face. There were more all over, giving you similar looks. One even offered you roasted meat. "You gotta eat." He offered, staring down at you before moving on without another word

"They did all of this in a couple of hours?" You wandered off to where other townsfolk worked. 

They met you with confused looks. “Hours?” Their voices sounded in disbelief. “You slept through the entirety of yesterday.” Another one scoffed. “Orcs guarded the damn door, even.” 

It was clear they weren’t amused with how differently you were treated.

“Get back to work, you!” An Uruk shouted from behind you, his hand ending on your shoulder. “Lord Father wants to see you, come on.”

Following the Uruk through the newly built town you took the chance to look around, seeing a whole tribe working and living.

When you rounded the last corner you spotted Adar, his attention towards a wrapped up bundle in an Uruk’s arms. 

“Lord Father, I brought ‘er.” The Uruk who escorted you placed you in front of himself, earning the Lord Father’s attention. He thanked him and sent him off again, waving you over to join his side where he stood. The Uruks at Adar’s side looked you up and down, so much it gave you chills. It was until you got close enough and they could sniff you out. To all the Uruks, the second you were in reach you were suddenly a friend. 

Adar took a step aside for you to be introduced to Glûg, his second in command, and Glûg’s family. The mother offered you a peek at her child and made conversation while Adar and Glûg spoke off to the side in a tongue you did not speak.

You stared, perhaps a bit too long but you couldn’t help it. You had never seen many Uruks before in your lifetime, let alone a newborn.

“Are you feeling well, child? You slept for quite a while.” Adar came and took you aside, speaking to you softly, wanting to keep the attention off you in case you felt under the weather.

“Just my ribs, the cuts burn pretty badly..” you held your arms, suddenly self conscious about that night and your activities. The nasty glares from your fellow Southlanders did not help at all either. 

“Come. I’ll tend to your wounds.” Adar led you away to his private quarters. “I’m the cause of them, after all.” He added under his breath, just for you to hear. 

Once inside he sat you down on his cot, suggesting you’d remove the tunic you wore and take one of the blankets to cover up while he prepared a healing salve. 

“How did you learn to do all of this?” Adar kneeled in front of you, holding a mortar with ground herbs. “It smells so sweet.” 

With two fingers, Adar scooped up some of the mixture. “You smell honey, it binds the herbs. I’ve had a love for plants and their various purposes for as long as I’ve had access to them.” Adar’s touch was gentle so as to not hurt you, carefully spreading the mixture over the cuts. 

His mind brought him back to that night where he let his walls down after the victory. The night you managed to worm your way into his personal life. He did not regret it, or even think bad of it but his feelings were still unclear. He wondered about yours as he tended to you but did not dare to speak of it. 

“Is it common for Uruks to sniff new people?” You sat up straight, having dropped the blanket from your shoulders so your wound could be dressed properly. 

Adar’s focused gaze changed into an amused one. “While I enjoy you being curious about Uruk behavior, no. They sniff because you smell of me.” 

“Oh,” you looked aside where the black tunic you wore sat folded on the cot. “It’s the tunic, isn’t it. It’s yours.” 

“That is one of the sources, yes. Among ..other things.” His gaze traveled lower for a second and you took the hint. “You smell me because of our night together.” 

Heat rose to your cheeks at the implication. Could the Uruks really smell that you had been intimate with their leader?

Without warning the front of Adar’s quarters flew open and revealed Waldreg who came with news. He wasn’t given a second to speak before he was ordered to leave, being yanked back out by two Uruks who passed by and heard their Lord Father’s anger.

You had clamped your arms over your chest the moment you noticed someone coming in, but you were convinced you were seen, let alone in front of Adar like that. What was he going to think? Would be talk? The others were going to hate you even more now.

When Adar’s attention went back to you there were tears welling in your eyes. Your breath hitched as you held back sobs, fear taking over. “H.. he saw me. Us.” You kept your arms around you as you let the tears spill, unable to stay calm under these issues. 

In a try to calm your nerves Adar draped the blanket over your frame again. “I understand it is different for other kinds,” he started as he sat back in front of you. “But here, among Uruk there is no shame in this.” Still he held the blanket closed around you, respectful of your preferences. 

“If you wish to blend among us better, I suggest you find the garment maker, she’ll have something altered to fit you and does not have my scent all over it.” He left your side then to go clean up the leftover salve and put away the used items. 

“I’d also bathe, to get rid of the otherwise more permanent mixing of our scents that’s still on your skin. Tomorrow morning at the earliest, the salve has to set.” 

With the wound dressed and your clothes back on your body you set out to find the clothes maker. It was still strange to walk as a mortal among the Uruk, especially seeing the Southlanders be snapped and snarled at while you were mostly being left alone. 

Except by the women. On your wandering path you were snatched off your feet and into a small crowd of females who swarmed you in an instant.

“You have laid with Lord Father.” “He has bred you. Tell us all about it!” They whisper-yelled over each other, the questions easily blending together.

“Lord Father never lets us please him.” “He has no interest for Uruk women, only fair ones like you.” “Look, she even wears what is his.” A hand came to pull at the tunic you wore. “Ah, I stitched those for Lord Father. Off a dead man I took them.” Another grabbed at your trousers. 

You took the opportunity to ignore the assault of questions and change the subject. 

“Then I must thank you.” You spoke to the one who was still tugging at your trousers. “Are you the clothes maker?” You watched her eyes light up at the question, frantically nodding yes and starting to ramble. “Yes yes I am! I make things from cloth and scrap. Pretty dresses too, but none fit us Uruk. Lord Father picked me for the job, says I have talent for handworks.” 

It was clear she was proud of receiving compliments on her works. By the time she was done talking the others had moved on already and the two of you were on the way to her home and workplace.

“So what’s the lady looking for? Simple to walk around in? Something armor for battle? Or fancy for Lord Father?” Grasho gave you a toothy grin as she nudged your shoulder. 

“Please, something simple works just fine. But eh..” You shied away a little at the upcoming request. “You don’t happen to have any underclothes in my size?” 

You watched Grasho move around all giddy and dig through piles of what looked like fallen soldiers’ garments. 

“Anything for our lady.” Clothes flew around the place as muttering sounded. Soft ‘no’s and noises of disagreement left her until she emerged from the piles. “Hah! I knew I kept those around somewhere!” She held the undergarment up in victory before giving it a sniff. “Eugh, needs a wash first.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at her antics and decided to stick with your current trousers until washing was finished. 

“Simple, yes? I have some, let me see I’m sure, yes!” Again she rummaged through the stacks and found a simple dark colored long shirt. It had a long patch of a lighter colored fabric along its side, as well as mismatching sleeves.

“Come on. Try.” Grasho held it up to you with an excited look. “Gotta see if it fits Lord Father’s lady! She must look good.’ 

The more time you spent among the Uruks, even if it had been as little as it is now, your night with Adar came with an acceptance of his kin. 

“Lady? Where did your head go?” Grasho was in your face now, poking right on the wound on your ribs making you jump and apologize for zoning out.

“Fit, now? You remember I told you about the underclothes, right?” You fidgeted with the ties on your tunic.

“Keep the pants. Just need to fit the top.” She motioned at you to hurry. “Come on!” 

You remembered Adar’s words then.

‘Among Uruk there is no shame in this’ 

You steadied your racing heart with a couple of deep breaths “Okay.” and slowly rid yourself of the tunic you wore.

“Ooh” Grasho leaned down and put her hands on you immediately, making you tense at the contact. “Lord Father’s personal patch up. Pretty bandages, only the best for his lady.” 

You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around your chest and hide, but if you were going to stay you needed to learn to live like the Uruks. And the woman in front of you paid no attention to your chest, just the bandages below. 

You decided to speak to distract your racing mind.

“You know I’m not really his lady, right? He just cared for me.” Your eyes followed Grasho’s moves as she put the dress on you and scribbled on it with a soot stick.

“Lord Father laid with you. He never does with anybody.” She piped up and poked your cheek with the stick, leaving a black dot on your skin. “You are a special one.” There was a serious tone in her words all of a sudden.

“Okay. Off now.” You were being maneuvered out of the dress so the soot wouldn’t smudge or rub off on you, and Adar’s tunic was kindly returned to you. When you put it back on your stomach rumbled out loud, reminding you of the fact that you hadn’t eaten after your small breakfast. You didn’t even know where you’d get food. Would you go find Adar and ask him?

“Now now,” You were grabbed by the shoulders and practically shoved out the door. “You go find the cook and eat! Krod makes tasty stew.” Grasho happily pointed you in the right direction. “I will fix and wash your stuff, bring it tomorrow. Half house, had guards before, yes?” 

You barely got a chance to answer her before she had disappeared again. So you set out in the direction she pointed out in search of food. It wasn’t difficult with the smell of what you expected to be the stew filled the air, all you had to do now was follow your nose.

Quickly you found the tent serving food, almost bumping into someone with how distracting the smell was. 

Taking a quick look around you noticed the person you almost ran into was a Southlander who gave you a disgusted look and turned back to wait in line for food. 

Further in front of the line you saw Uruks join in front of the humans, dismissing them and moving them further back in line. It felt like you were going to be eating scraps tonight.

That was, until your arm was grabbed and you were moved along the line and placed next to someone almost at the front. You recognized her.

The one who took you along the line was Glûg who put you with his wife. 

“You can go wherever you want. Not a single Uruk who will tell you no.” With a tug on the string of your tunic he let you know what he meant without any more words and joined his wife at her side. 

The food was so close now you were almost drooling in anticipation.

[feyhunter78]

Can you please do part two of Pink Pastels? Thank you 🩷

I definitely can!!! I'm honestly such a sucker for dual povs I swear it's like my calling card, so this chapter is in Miguel's pov! Fun fact: the bf in this story is based off my best friend's college boyfriend who showed up high out of his mind to her place of work SEVERAL times (I obvi changed his name though bc I'm a nice person)

Pt 3

Pink Pastels Pt 2

Miguel searches through every database, has Lyla run your face, your name, every detail he can find about you, and yet you only seem to appear here, in this universe where he swoops in right as your universe’s Miguel dies.

No one notices the switch. Not even his coworkers at Alchemax. In fact, they seem to welcome his “new attitude,” and he finds himself with a raise within the first two months.

This universe is quiet, the other him died from a fluke, embarrassingly enough. But it was so random, so unpredictable, that no one questioned “his” survival. So, life goes on as it had before, how he had watched it go on before.

The old woman who lives next door and watches Gabi when he’s “called into work late,” smiles at him, praises him for working so hard for his daughter. Gabi wakes up in the morning to him, her father, like always, eats breakfast, strawberries, blueberries, and honey on her toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, and a glass of milk. Then he drops her off at school on his way to work.

The monitors beep at him, and he turns back towards them. Finally, it’s found you in his universe, the victim of a plane crash, years before Gabi would even be born. It’s a painless death. You were among those killed on impact. Gone in a moment, but as he watches you here, in this new universe where his daughter is happy and thriving, he realizes just how desperately he wished he would have found you before you ever set foot in that airport.

“She’s pretty.” Lyla says, leaning forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for teacher?”

“No.” He deadpans, though he can’t tear his eyes from you. You’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant giggling into your margarita, another woman—Janey—sits across from you shoveling chips and queso into her mouth, making you laugh even harder.

You’re in that pink dress from earlier. It brightens your skin, hugs your curves but in a modest way, it’s more than appropriate for a teacher to wear, but he’s salivating at the thought of his talons tearing through it and exposing the soft flesh beneath.

Would you cry out for him? Cling to him as he fucks you? You look so pretty in pink, and he wants to go slow, keep you in that color for as long as possible, but he knows himself better than that. The moment he’s able to, he’ll shred the garment, leaving ribbons of fabric in his wake as he bends you over the nearest piece of furniture and slams into you. He wants to feel your warmth around him, hear you begging for him, his name falling from your perfect lips as he gropes your breasts, fangs scraping down your throat, marking you as his.

You laugh again at something the waiter said, and it’s musical, and perfect, you are perfect.

A twinge of jealousy, a foolish thing he knows, but the thought passes through his mind. It should be him making you laugh. He’s studied you now, he knows exactly what makes you laugh, what songs you hum as you prepare your classroom for the day, how you keep colorful Band-Aids in your purse because you just can’t turn off being a teacher, Janey.

And you’re Gabi’s favorite teacher, he wasn’t lying when he told you she talked about you, though he may have added the pretty part. She goes on and on about you, to the point where he almost doesn’t need the cams, he can get every bit of information from his daughter.

“And then, Ms. Y/N told us about her trip to Disney World! She went with her boyfriend, but I don’t know why.” Gabi says, collecting the animal shaped macaroni on her fork. He let her pick dinner, feeling guilty that he didn’t know she’d cried over her lost tooth.

He feels guilty about snapping at you too. He was already worked up, his job, the multiverse, traffic. And last night he forgot all about the Tooth Fairy, so in the morning Gabi was afraid the Tooth Fairy didn’t like her. But you don’t get rewards for losing things once you’ve grown up, and the idea of Gabi going into that pain blindly, having to watch as those she loves disappears around her makes him want to rip his heart from his chest.

“What do you mean Mija?” He asks, his own forkful of mac and cheese halfway to his mouth.

How had he missed you having a boyfriend? Was it serious? Did he treat you well? How easy would it be to make him disappear?

“Well, Ms. Y/N was really happy when she was talking about her trip, but then when she mentioned her boyfriend, she got sad.” Gabi explains, a frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah?” He prompts her, fighting the urge, to call up Lyla and have her run a search for your boyfriend.

“He came in one time on her birthday, but he was all weird and smelled bad.” Then she got up from the table and mimed stumbling and swaying. “And he walked like this. Ms. Y/N was really mad. Plus, he didn’t even bring her a present.”

Your boyfriend showed up to an elementary school—your place of work on your birthday, drunk, with no gift.

“That’s not nice, when was Ms. Y/N’s birthday?” If he was speaking to anyone but his daughter, he was sure they’d see right through them, but his sweet girl thought nothing of it.

“Last week, I wanted to tell you about it, but you were on your trip, so I told Tia Margo.”

Tia Margo, the old woman next door. He needs to speak with her about letting him know there was a drunk at his daughter’s school. Maybe next time he sees her in the hall, he’ll mention it to her.

“I wish you had told me, then maybe we could’ve gotten her a gift to make up for it.” He says, smiling at her, so she knows he’s not upset.

“I don’t think one gift would make it all better, she’s sad about her boyfriend a lot.” She emphasizes the last word, making the ending sound sharp as she stabs at her food.

“It sounds like he’s a bad boyfriend. Make sure you stay away from boys like him, Mija.” He can’t help but feel protective, even though she’s only six.

He watches as she eats, her hair in a simple braid, a sparkly pink hairband tying it off. “Who did your hair?”

She stops and proudly holds the braid up. “Ms. Y/N, well Emma did it first, but then it fell out when I did a cartwheel, so Ms. Y/N fixed it, and she said I could keep the hairband.”

If he focuses, he can smell the scent of you, mingled with the scent of his home, as if you’re already beside them in your rightful place.

“Maybe we should get her a thank-you gift?” He suggests, his heart warming at the excitement on Gabi’s face.

She is so good, so pure, and sweet. She is nothing like him, and yet she is everything he wished for her to be. He doesn’t know her mother, not in his original universe, but he knows her in this one, watched the other him break down over her leaving. Agony is a cannon event, no interference allowed. He hopes she never returns, that she stays away from his daughter. Doesn’t ruin her with her selfishness.

Just as your boyfriend is ruining you.

He waits until Gabi’s asleep to call out for Lyla. She appears and raises an eyebrow at the way he clutches your hairband.

“She has a boyfriend, find me everything you can on him.”

“I knew you had the hots for her.” Lyla laughs, disappearing before he can dismiss her.

He waits, packs Gabi’s lunch, slips two dollars under her pillow because he’ll be damned if his daughter believes some magical creature doesn’t like her, then cleans the kitchen and his bedroom three times over until finally Lyla returns.

“Okay, boss, you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @aeryns--playground

[wlntrsldler]

Three Hundred and Seventy-One Days | Luke Castellan

a/n: not canon-compliant! i hate this actually but i needed to write something to get me back in the zone! sunshine reader because i wanted a broody luke lol.

i. Three days.

Right before the sun sets behind the hill at Camp Half Blood, there's a chill in the air that hits Luke's skin in a way that makes him feel like he's back on the roof of his house in Connecticut. He found out about it when he returned from his failed quest when he was searching for a moment of solace, away from the pitiful eyes of the campers, away from the voice that haunted his dreams. Perched on a branch, hidden by the shade of the leaves, leaning against the bark of the tree with sticky amber clinging to the material of his orange shirt, Luke sits there until the sun disappears for the day.

It reminds him of the days he would crawl out of his bedroom window to escape the sounds of his mother's incoherent mumbling. He would sit there in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his cargo shorts, goosebumps rising on his skin, as he talked to himself. It was a bad habit he picked up in his younger years. He kept himself company at home because his mom didn't talk to him much, not really, and when she did, when her words made sense for once, all Luke could do was count down the minutes until he lost his mother again.

Before he was old enough to understand his heritage, who his father was, he used to pray to an entity he didn't believe in to give his mother moments of clarity, slivers of coherence so he at least knew something, anything, about the woman he called mom. But after the first time Luke's wishes were granted, he stopped praying. Somehow it was more painful watching his mother drift in and out of consciousness than it was living with a stranger he knew he loved, but knew nothing about.

For a year, that spot on the tree was a secret. Nobody knew that Luke would climb up there every day just to feel the breeze against his skin. Nobody questioned why the Hermes head counselor would disappear at the same time, until you came along.

"Whatcha doin' up there?"

Luke nearly lost his balance on the branch at the sound of your voice from under him. He looked down to see you smiling up at him, hands laced together behind your back. You were eighteen, the same as him, and when he first heard of your arrival, Luke was jealous. You got to have 18 years of childhood, while he was only granted half of that. It didn't seem fair.

"You should be at dinner," Luke replied, leaning back against the tree. The sun made the sky a soft orange color. The darkness of the night was creeping in through the corners of the sky, the chill he searches for each night engulfed him.

"To be fair, so should you, head counselor," You replied, analyzing the indents in the bark of the tree trunk that formed from Luke's constant climbing. You slotted your feet in the crevices, making your way to the tree branch beside Luke's. The two branches were close to each other, growing steadily until they almost touched at the tips. "Woah, this view is unreal."

"Be careful," He mumbled, clenching his jaw. "I'm not gonna take you to the infirmary if you fall and break a bone."

"Relax," You chuckled, situating yourself. "I can handle myself."

Luke nodded once and turned his attention back to the skyline. In this light, the scar across his cheek was prominent. It's healed well enough, but it still left a bump across his flesh that made Luke queasy every time he looked at it for too long. The two of you sat in silence as the sun disappeared. Luke tilted his head to look at you, only to find that you were already staring at him. He rubbed the side of his face against his shoulder as if trying to wipe away the scar on his shirt, "What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, "Not really into the whole offerings thing, to be honest."

"So you decided to wander into the woods alone?" Luke asked, "That's dangerous. There's a lot of things out here that you wouldn't believe. You can get hurt."

"But it's okay when you do it?"

"I know how to fight," Luke found himself taking on a defensive position. "You just got here."

"That doesn't mean I don't know how to fight," You replied. Your voice was calm, despite the slight bite to Luke's tone. "Just because I didn't spend my childhood playing with swords and bows and arrows doesn't mean I don't know how to fend for myself, y'know."

"The things out here are different from schoolyard bullies. I don't think you understand that."

"Are we going to ignore that I fought a hellhound on my way here or...?"

"You fought a hellhound?"

Luke wouldn't have guessed that by the way you walked into the Hermes cabin, all smiles and golden flecks of color in the irises of your eyes. You spoke in a preppy tone and he nearly had to grab his siblings by their ear to drag them away from you. If he was a betting man, he would bet that you were a child of Aphrodite.

"Mhm," You hummed, "See, I'm not so helpless."

"I didn't say you were."

"Yeah, but you implied it," You shrugged, not deterred by his tone. "Anyways, are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"Well, I was trying to get some privacy," He replied. He should've been annoyed at the intrusion, but he couldn't bring himself to be upset with you as much as he should've been. "But that didn't go as planned."

"Sorry, sorry," You chuckled, putting your hands up in defense. "Didn't know keeping you company was a no-no. Maybe I do have some things to learn about camp after all."

He scoffed, "Hanging out with me should be the least of your worries."

"I dunno, I always seem to gravitate towards the broody types."

"I'm not broody."

"Right," You laughed. You turned to look at him, jaw dropping when you realized he was serious. "When was the last time you smiled? And not those fake, polite smiles you give to strangers trying to make small talk in the grocery store line, you know?"

No, he didn't know. He didn't go out much, much less to the grocery store to have conversations about the rising prices of produce or the lack of real milk options due to the infiltration of the non-dairy industry.

"I smile all the time," Luke replied, eyebrows furrowing in thought as he tried to remember the last time he smiled at someone. "I smile at campers."

"That's because it's your job, silly!" You giggled, shaking your head. "When was the last time you smiled just because?"

Luke pursed his lips, countering, "When was the last time you didn't smile?"

"When I was fighting the hellhound."

Luke felt his lips quirk up at that. It was a quick-witted response, he'll give you that. He stopped it from becoming anything more and cleared his throat.

"Okay, I'll leave you to it," You sighed, carefully stretching your legs down to the first indent on the tree. You skillfully climbed down and landed on your feet with a thud, "See you around, Luke."

Luke's mouth felt dry at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He was never a fan of his name before. He thought it sounded generic and unoriginal, but when you said it, it didn't sound half as bad as he thought it was. His stomach churned in a way that was foreign to him.

"Hopefully, not here!" He called out, watching as your figure retreated back to the main grounds. "Privacy, remember that!"

"I like the broody types, remember that!" You called back, waving to him before you disappeared into the maze of trees.

ii. Twelve days.

"You lied."

You looked up from your book with an eyebrow raised as you stared at the counselor at the foot of your bed. Luke was standing there, the signature stern look etched on his face. You placed your bookmark in your book, sitting up on your bed as you smiled at him, "Excuse me?"

He had his arms crossed over his chest, the beads of his camp necklace resting on the tops of his knuckles, "You lied. You didn't fight a hellhound."

"Okay, so I didn't fight a hellhound," You said, dragging on the word 'fight' for emphasis. "But I encountered a hellhound."

"Which you befriended."

"Which I befriended," You confirmed, "I named him Stanley. Wanna meet him?"

"No," Luke replied quickly. "That shouldn't even be allowed in here."

"He's sweet," You tutted, slipping your feet into your shoes as you stood up. "Give him a chance, I swear you'll love him."

"You're keeping a hellhound as a pet?"

"He's just a baby," You cooed, jutting out your bottom lip.

Luke felt his face twitch in half-annoyance and half-fondness. He didn't know if he found your naivete dangerous or charming, or both, but he was scared for you. You were too trusting for your own good, "He is not a baby. He's a monster."

"Don't talk about Stanley like that."

Luke rolled his eyes, falling into the same rhythm as your steps, "You don't realize how dangerous this is, Y/N."

"Here you go with the danger thing again," You teased, nudging him. Luke's breath got caught in his chest. Your simple touch seemed to burn his skin. Sparks erupted across his entire body. "Told you, I'll be fine."

"Not every monster you encounter can be defeated by the power of friendship. You can't rely on some kumbaya shit."

"Kumbaya?" You snorted, looking at him with an unreadable expression on your face. You scrunched your face up, a tiny smile tugging on your lips. "You're so...."

"I'm so what?" He questioned, planting his feet on the ground.

"Odd."

He tried not to take offense to that because while your words were like a dagger to his heart, the way you said it showed that you didn't mean it in a bad way. You seemed to be trying to figure him out, pressing his buttons, trying to see what made him tick. And you were succeeding. Luke never ventured to talk to new campers unless he was forced to by Chiron, but he couldn't fight the pull you had on him.

"Broody and odd," He said, resuming his steps, "I'm swooning."

The full belly laugh that escaped you made Luke's steps falter. Campers surrounding you looked at you, confused as to what Luke could've said that made you react that way. Surely, the Hermes Head Counselor wasn't that funny. He wasn't known to crack jokes, not since he returned. You couldn't help it, though. He said it in such a deadpan way that made your sides hurt from laughing so much.

"Just my type," You teased.

Luke didn't like how his cheeks were warming up at your comment. He's not one to flirt or be flirted with. He found girls attractive, sure, but most of them were too intimidated to talk to him so he never really had experience in that department. But he supposed since you grew up in the world, you were used to doing things like this. He wondered if you knew the effect you had on him.

"Dinner is supposed to be good tonight," He said, changing the subject. He was looking everywhere but you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks that seemed to not want to subside.

"Oh, no you don't," You shook your head. "You are not gonna tempt me into going to dinner just so you can hide away in your tree. I'll be there, Castellan."

He grimaced. He was hoping that you'd fall for the trap, but he was learning quickly that you weren't as gullible as he hoped you'd be. Luke sighed, accepting defeat. "Fine, but can you just be careful? You've been lucky that there weren't any creatures lurking around."

"Why don't we just go together?" You asked, "So you can stop worrying about my safety and all."

"I'm not worried about your safety," He lied through his teeth. The idea wasn't bad though. It would keep him from wondering if you were attacked on your way to meet him. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about it. He didn't like this weird protectiveness he had over you. He didn't even know you. "But fine. Meet me at the Hermes cabin after they ring for dinner."

"You got it," You saluted him playfully as you walked away, skipping to meet up with members of the Apollo cabin. How did you manage to make so many friends so quickly? And why did you insist on sticking with him when it's clear that you had other friends you could be bothering instead of him?

Luke tried not to think about it too much as he continued on with his day, but no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept pulling him back to you. During his lessons with other campers, he took mental notes of what moves he should teach you, just in case anything happened so you'd be prepared. During arts and crafts, he found himself reaching for the gold glitter because it reminded him of your eyes. This caused raised eyebrows from other campers since it was well-known that the counselor didn't like glitter post-Glitter Gate where he was shaking out glitter from his curls for days.

By the time dinner rolled around, he was thankful he stopped thinking about you, but soon realized that it was worse now that you were in front of him, all smiles and banter as you always were. It was getting harder to contain the redness of his cheeks as you complimented him in your own way.

"Lead the way, Castellan," You grinned.

Luke couldn't help but return your smile.

iii. Sixty-six days.

"Stanley, down," You instructed, leaning over to scratch the hellhound behind its ears. "Good boy."

Luke's sword was raised in a fighting stance as he watched you giggle as the hellhound nuzzled into your touch. You somehow managed to make him agree to meet the monster. Pathetically, it didn't take much for Luke to agree. It took you batting your eyelashes at him with a small pout and he reluctantly agreed to meet Stanley.

"Luke," You called him over, still petting the hellhound. "Come on, he won't do anything to you."

"I'm good right here," He grunted, holding onto his sword. "If he tries anything, one of us should be ready and you obviously have your guard down."

"He won't," You assured, "He's sweet."

"Nothing from the underworld is sweet, Y/N."

"You don't think I'm sweet?"

Luke rolled his eyes. You'd been claimed by your father, Hades, a few days ago. It made sense the more he thought about it. The hellhound wasn't sent to attack you, but to protect you. It was sent by your father to guide you to Camp Half Blood. "You're not technically from there."

"Same shit," You shrugged, patting the spot next to you on the grass for him to join you. "Come on, Luke. Come meet Stanley."

It was against everything he believed in. He shouldn't walk over to you to pet a monster like it was a stray dog on the side of the road, waiting to be rescued. But his feet seemed to have a mind of their own because before he knew it, he was walking over to you, sword tossed somewhere beside him to keep his hands free to touch the surprisingly soft fur of the hellhound.

The hellhound purred under Luke's touch, gentle and loving. If Luke ignored the scary color of its eyes, he would confidently say that it was just a dog. Luke's shoulders relaxed, "Okay, he's not half bad."

"Told you," You said, leaning against him. Luke's hands froze for a second, making the hellhound whine. He resumed his scratches, not wanting to take his chances and angering the dog. "See? Not all of us from the underworld are scary monsters."

"You're not from there," He repeated, "Stop saying that you are."

"Hades is my dad, Luke," You whispered. "So I am. I am a part of him."

"You're nothing like the gods."

There was something in his voice that made your heart pound in your chest. It was no secret that Luke's relationship with his father, and all of the gods for that matter, was strained. Luke saying that you were nothing like them with such sincerity made your head spin. It felt definite. It felt like a fact that he could never think of you as that.

"Could be nice though," You joked, trying to cover up the swell in your chest with humor. "Immortality and all."

"Nah, this one life is enough for me, I think."

"What? You're not shooting for rebirth?"

If anyone else would've asked him the same question a year ago, even a few weeks ago, he would've said no. If any of his other lives were like this one, he would decline the request if he could. All that he'd gone through in this lifetime was enough.

But now you were asking him that question with a twinkle of hope in your eyes that made him wonder if he'd judged this life too soon. Maybe there was more to life than fighting and running. Maybe the moments of life when he sits on a tree branch watching the sunset, or when he's yelling at his siblings to stop running in the cabin, or hell, even when he was petting a goddamn hellhound, were enough to make him wish for another shot at this life thing.

Maybe he just needed to learn a thing or two from you. If he could continue to know you in each lifetime, maybe he'll turn out fine.

"Maybe," Luke poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth. He blinked, "I don't know."

"Keep an open mind to it, is all I ask," You said. "I wanna find you in every universe just so I can annoy the shit out of you in each one."

He chuckled softly, not missing the smile that widened on your face as you watched him crack. "I changed my mind. No rebirth for me. I can only handle you in so many lifetimes."

"You'll grow to love me."

I know, Luke wanted to say, and that's the part that scares me the most. Throughout his years at Camp Half Blood, Luke prided himself in knowing that when push comes to shove, he can do what's necessary to succeed. It's what made him the perfect Head Counselor, the best swordsman that Camp Half Blood has seen in years. It's what made him a hero.

But now he didn't feel like that was the case anymore. He was growing soft, weak. He'd spent so much time trying to protect you and keep you from danger that he forgot about protecting himself. You found his Achilles heel and well, Luke was just waiting until he surrendered to you.

He opened his mouth to speak, "If Stanley doesn't kill me first."

If Luke could bottle up the sound of your laughter, he would.

iv. Three hundred and sixty-five days.

"Who is that?"

Luke followed Percy's eyes to the other side of the field. His lips turned up at the corners as he saw you waving at him with a smile on your face. Luke waved back with the same enthusiasm, confusing the boy beside him.

"That's Y/N," Luke responded, picking up his steps to meet you halfway. "That's my girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"I know, shocker!" You teased, placing a kiss on Luke's cheek. Luke wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer, completely oblivious to the grimace that graced Percy's face. "Mr. Stick-in-the-mud head counselor has a girlfriend."

"Hey!"

Percy scrunched his face up, "You kinda are a stick-in-the-mud. No offense."

"Offense taken," Luke scoffed, poking your side. "Y/N, this is Percy. He's new here."

You stretched out a hand in greeting, "Nice to meet ya, Percy. Welcome to Camp Half Blood."

"Are you always this preppy?"

"She is," Luke said, shrugging. "Nice change of pace from the rest of us, don't you think?"

"Sure," He nodded, eyeing the both of you. Luke's arm didn't move from your waist and you didn't seem to mind. He was too young to understand why you and Luke didn't want to have any personal space. "Are you joining us on the tour that Luke is giving me of Camp Half Blood?"

"Wish I could, but the Stolls are planning to TP the Ares cabin as a prank and I should probably stop them before someone gets maimed at Capture the Flag tomorrow," You cringed.

Luke sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder. You tangled your fingers through his curls, trying to offer some comfort, "I told them not to do that."

"When have your siblings ever listened to you?"

"They used to before you came along!" Luke groaned, "But now they only listen to the pretty counselor."

"Must run in the family," You teased.

"Shut up," Luke grumbled, lifting his head up. Percy could see the blush on Luke's cheeks and he cringed. He hoped he'd never end up like this when he became a teenager. It was obvious you had Luke wrapped around your finger. "Go stop them before Lee gives us a lecture on the dangers of resorting to violence. Again."

"I'm going, I'm going," You laughed. You placed a quick kiss to Luke's lips before waving goodbye to the two boys. Before you were out of earshot, you turned around, "Tree later?"

"See you there!" Luke replied, grinning at you until you made it across the field. He turned to Percy, scratching the back of his neck, "Sorry about that. Where were we?"

"Archery."

"Ah, right! Archery," Luke nodded, continuing his steps, "It's down this way."

Percy followed Luke through the field, staring at the signs that pointed in different directions. Camp Half Blood was huge. This tour was definitely going to take longer than he anticipated. Not wanting to continue with a lull in the conversation, Percy spoke up, "How long have you and Y/N been together?"

Percy figured that Luke would have a lot to say about you which would fill the silence. He was right. Luke smiled at the boy, "A few months. She got here last year and it's been us two ever since. Took me a minute to ask her out, though."

"Well if you liked her, why did you wait? That doesn't make much sense."

"It was complicated," He replied, "I didn't really accept that I liked her until way later. Kinda kept my feelings to myself for a while."

"Is this what being a teenager is like?" Percy asked, cringing at Luke's words. He always imagined that falling in love with someone was easy. If two people liked each other, they should be together, right?

"Yeah," Luke laughed, patting Percy on the back. "Enjoy your early years, Perce. It gets worse from here."

"Geez, you really know how to inspire confidence in someone."

The laugh that escaped Luke reminded him too much of you. There were parts of you that weaseled their way into him. He didn't understand why you laughed so hard at his deadpan comments before, but now that he was on the receiving end of it with Percy, he saw why.

Percy reminded Luke a lot of himself, back when he was younger. It was a weird thing to meet a foil of yourself, someone who you could've been if things had been different. Luke wondered if he'd be like Percy if his life hadn't been so cruel. Not that Percy's life was all sunshine and rainbows, either. Luke heard through the grapevine that Percy lost his mom during the battle with the minotaur, but at least he had a mom that he knew. He had a mom that cared for him.

Luke was dreading the day Percy got claimed. Something told him that it would cause a ripple effect. Start things that Luke wasn't ready for, not yet. Maybe he'll never be ready for it. Had he known that he'd meet you, maybe he wouldn't have said yes to it. Maybe if you had stumbled into Camp Half Blood a day earlier, he wouldn't be facing this.

Luke faked a smile, shaking away those thoughts, "Come on, archery's just around the corner."

v. Three hundred and seventy-one days.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Luke closed his eyes at the familiar voice that joined him on the tree branch. The separate branch that you used to it on morphed into his own. Two branches intertwined, a simple work of nature, but it felt like a symbol. An omen.

The fireworks illuminated the night sky. Luke had never been up here this late before. The air was cold.

"What are you doing here?"

You let out a dry chuckle, "Dejavu for a second there."

"Y/N."

You gulped, slowly inching towards him. There was a crease between his eyebrows as he stared ahead. You sighed, "I came looking for you."

"Why?"

"Luke, don't do this."

He sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his balled-up fists. He winced as he put too much pressure on his cheek, his scar stinging at the contact. It's been more sensitive lately the more he spoke to Kronos. He shook his head, "I have to."

"No, you don't," You pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. "It's not too late."

"It is. Don't you understand?" He sobbed, "It's too late."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to break your heart," He whispered. He felt silly saying it out loud, but it made sense to him at the time. He couldn't bare to see your face when he told you about everything. That's why he was going to leave without saying goodbye.

"How's that going for you?"

How you managed to make him laugh even during this, even during the end, was beyond Luke's understanding. He wished you didn't have an effect on him like this. It would make things so much easier.

"I'm sorry."

"For breaking my heart or for betraying all of us?"

Luke licked his lips, "Both."

You removed your hand from his arm. Luke shivered without your touch. "I'll see you again, yeah?"

"I don't know."

"I know," Tears pricked your eyes. Maybe it was the shock of it all, but you were calm. Too calm. It didn't feel real that just a few steps away, camp was in disarray because of the boy beside you. "Rebirth, remember? In every lifetime."

"Sure," He said. Maybe the hope of it all will be enough to get him through this. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You said, leaning over to place a last kiss on his lips. You pulled away as you felt your tears mixing with his, "Go, they'll come looking here soon."

Luke nodded and made his way down the tree. You watched him fade away in the distance.

[blueberry-rose]

Hello!!! It's nice to see new genshin wlw writers!!! I have a request, feel free to take creative liberties with it. Can I have a Harbinger! Reader x Arlecchino, where basically Arlecchino shadows reader to learn from about harbinger duties and responsibilities? The more they're together the more they like and fall for each other.

I struggled a bit on how to write this so I hope you enjoy it.

Arlecchino x harbinger!reader

Arlecchino is 19 at the start of this. Your age is not mentioned but you’re implied to be a little older. Mentions of alcohol.I might have made Arlecchino an angsty teen (but let’s be honest who wasn’t an angsty teen)but the fic is has a two year time skip.

You’re a harbinger and the new fourth harbinger has been assigned to shadow you. She’s so young no older than 20. She was pardoned not even a week ago and already a harbinger. You haven’t been a harbinger for long but you had to work for years to become one. And here’s the new big shot, a criminal turned harbinger.

You got dragged out of your thoughts when your door opened. You set your work down, looking up. She stood there. Her hair was too her shoulders clearly hasn’t been cut in a while, she just got out of jail what did you expect. She wore a suit. “So you’re the new harbinger?” You gathered your work up. Putting it in your drawer.

“Yes.” She had no emotion in her voice. God it was true Crucabena was a monster, you heard rumors about it, but you thought it was over exaggerated. But the look of this girl, it’s clear it’s true, sure she was good at hiding it but you could tell she looked like her whole world has been destroyed. Her voice rang out again dragging you from your thoughts a second time. “my name is Peruer- I mean Arlecchino.”

You laughed. “Not used to the new name? Don’t worry it took me a while too. I’ve read your file, you were raised in the house of hearth. Now you are the knave, and moth-“ she cut you off.

“I’m the father. The title mother died with that woman.” You saw the blacken part on her arms to rise slightly.

“Father? Ok, ok sorry, that woman was a horrible person. But most of us are. You will have to control that anger and curse of yours.” Her fists unclench her face going blank again. You sighed. “I’ll be honest with you harbinger work is not as fun as it seems. We do paperwork I lot, we do get the most important missions. But we usually delegate the work. And if you need anything you can ask me. Now come here I’ll show you most of the work we tend to do.” She walked to your side and watched you. You went on explaining how to delegate work and getting to know your agents to make sure they can handle the work. “Now I do actually have a mission we have to do, it’s nothing too much but it’s something.”

Arlecchino followed you she’s not much younger than you but it’s clear she’s used to shutting up and doing what she’s told. “you can talk, I don’t care if you have questions. You are here to learn not to just mindlessly follow orders,”

“I don’t do small talk, not after her.” Arlecchino clearly doesn’t like talking all that much.

“Her?” It was clear she peaked your interest. Her eyes widened slightly. “Was it a girlfriend?”

“No.” She said it coldly. “She was just my best friend.”

“Did she die, was it the former knave’s fault?” You wanted this woman to open up a bit. Getting to know her was a need.

“Yes, she’s dead, but her death wasn’t that woman’s fault entirely. I killed her.” Her eyes looked dead, it was heartbreaking.

“Oh,” you didn’t know what to say. “Why?”

“Why? Because that woman that I called mother found a it funny to force children to fight to the death.”

“What?” She- she. That bitch. children?” You were surprised this was monstrous. “I’m sorry it must have been hard. Living like that.”

“she impaled herself on my sword. She was mother’s own flesh and blood.” She said all of this with a straight face. Nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you put your hand on her shoulder she tensed, it was clear that she’s been abused. “You don’t have to worry about the old mother. You’re the father of the house now, you can create a new beginning. For the new children as well as the ones that survived her. And rest assured that I will be there if you ever need help.”

She looked at you pushing your hand off her shoulder, it wasn’t hard she just grabbed your hand to took it off. “Alright. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind”

It was like this for a while, she shadowed you for a month before she was allow on her own. You could see her slowly piece her mask together. She was gracefully, and calm. Seeming to be uncaring. You knew better though she seemed to trust you. She comes by your office every once in a while. It’s been about two years since she became a harbinger. And you two ended up on a mission together. It wasn’t hard pretty easy in fact you barely did anything.

“It was nice working with you again, it reminded me of when I was shadowing you.” You smiled at her as she talked.

“You were still piecing together your mask. I think I’m the only one that knows about how angry you were when you got out of prison.”

“I was still a child. I couldn’t help but get mad.”

“Child? you were like 20”

“19 actually, I’m 21 now”

“Oh, a year off forgive me.” You were messing with her. When she stopped suddenly. “Arlecchino?” You looked back at her.

“You’re important to me. You know that right?” You felt your face heat up, Arlecchino’s changed a lot from when you first met her. She was angry, and a reckless teenager, now she was a graceful and calculated woman. “Be ready at 8 pm tonight I’m taking you somewhere fancy to thank you for everything.”

“You don’t have to do that. I swear”

“It’s to late I already have a reservation. Do not keep me waiting.” She walked forward. You walked along side her.

“You don’t take no for an answer do you?” You teased her

“You didn’t say no technically. But no I am taking you to dinner tonight.” She looked at you her Crimson x’s burning into you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go to dinner with you. Fancy you say?”

“Yes I’m taking you to a fancy restaurant, it’s the least I can do, you’ve always did whatever you could to help me and the house. It means a lot to me.”

It was 6:30 when you got home. Arlecchino’s taking you to dinner. You barely had enough time to get ready in fact you barely put on your shoes when you heard her knock. “Come in” you touched up your lipstick as she opened the door.

“Are you ready?” She walked into your room, archons she was beautiful, her once short hair now reached her butt, pulled into a low ponytail. She was wearing her normal suit. While you were all dolled up, in a full face of makeup, your hair curled, a long skintight black dress, black heals and a silver clutch. “Well look at you all dressed up.”

“You told me we are going somewhere fancy. So I dressed up.” You were blushing slightly, Arlecchino is so much taller the you and the way she was leaning on the doorframe had you melting. You forgot when you started to like her, but you never did anything you know she’s not one to form relations. Your relationship with her was purely based on work.

“You look beautiful, truly” there you go again your face is definitely super red. Arlecchino grabbed your hand and pulled to to follow her, you did of course,

“You’re not one to dish out compliments.” You giggled a bit.

“Then you should know I’m being sincere” she didn’t let go of your hand, she held it all the way to the restaurant. She only let go when you were sat, in a private little corner. “Go ahead and pick out anything you want, I’m paying after all” you looked at the menu. Everything was pretty pricey, now with you being a harbinger the price would be no problem but still you live way below your means. So going to fancy places isn’t something you do often.

“I’ll just have the steak.”

“I’ll order the same then” after a bit the waiter arrived.

“What would you like to drink, ladies?

“Just get us on red wine,” the waiter nodded before hurrying off. And coming back with the wine. Pouring two cups of wine, Arlecchino took a sip of wine.

“So why did you wish to take me to a restaurant? Especially such a fancy one?”

“Am I not allowed to treat my closest confidant.” She raised her eyes brow at you, her expression barely changing but enough for you to notice.

“I’m not saying that, it’s just” you sighed. “You treat me so differently from everyone else”

“Well maybe that’s because I think of you differently.” She grabbed your hand. Placing a kiss on it. “And I always have.”

“Arle.” Your face heating up. When she raised her eyes to meet yours. This crimson x’s focused on you. And only you.

“I, you’re not someone I can lose. Ever.” She placed a kiss on your hand again.

[the-broken-truth]

Leaving The Web [Part 3] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Summary: At the Chocolate Shop where [Name] works, a familiar face appears and causes a commotion among the Symbiote Host. Despite this, [Name] must remain composed to keep her job. The question is, can [Name] and Venom keep their cool when their past is affecting their present?

Tag-List: @one-green-frog, @bodypositivefangirl, @ayyybee

[Earth-232 -  The Confiseur's Shop]

"[Name]! Can you come here for a moment?" The Confiseur - Madame Kristen - called from her office to the front of the store, where [Name] was placing the latest Chocolate Sculpture in the cooling display case before closing the glass door and walking behind the counter, into the back, and down the hallway into the office, where the Madame Kristen was counting some money before placing it in an envelope and holding it out to [Name], "This is your monthly bonus; ever since you started working here, I've more than doubled my income. You've more than earned this."

"Thank you, Madame Kristen." [Name] said as she took the cash and placed it in her pocket before asking if there was anything else she needed.

"No. I'm going to leave for the rest of the day and you can leave an hour early today after locking up." Madame Kristen said as she rose from her seat and walked out of the office with [Name] behind her as she locked the door. Madame Kristen told [Name] to try and sell the Chocolate Sculptures for the day before leaving out of the store, walking to her car, and out of her parking lot.[Name[] took her rag and started wiping down the counter before the door opened and the bell sounded, [Name] looked up and smiled.

"Greetings, Valued Customer! Welcome to Madame Kristen's Chocolate Shop! How can I help you today?!" [Name] smiled but that smile soon faded away when she came face to face with her father - Miguel O'Hara. Those blood-red eyes made her blood boil but she kept her face cal; she didn't want to lose her job.

"You have a lovely smile, Mija; I wonder if you got that from me or your mother." Miguel said as he walked over to his daughter - the counter being the only thing that separated them.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir?" [Name] said as she gritted her teeth, trying her best not to yell at the man before her - the same man who abandoned her to go to another universe to take care of another daughter when another version of himself was killed in a robbery that he had no business being in. This was the man who caused an entire universe to collapse because of his selfish greed.

"There's no need to be so formal with me, Mija; I am your father after all." Miguel said she placed a hand over [Name's] hand that was resting on the counter before she pulled it away and placed it by her side.

"You are mistaken, Sir. I don't have a father or a mother, I am an Orphan. Now, is there something you would like to purchase? If so, please let me know and I shall ring you up. If not, please leave the store, who can't have stragglers in the store." [Name] explained in the business tone of voice. Miguel looked at his daughter with his red eyes before a frown took over his face; his own flesh and blood were denying him once again and he was not going to take this.

"[Name] O'Hara, please do not address me in such a disrespectful manner. As your father, I want to inform you that we will be returning to our universe and I will be there for you, unlike before. Mija, I apologize for my behavior toward you. My issues with your mother caused me to take it out on you, when all you wanted was my love and respect. Please, come home and allow me to be the father you deserve.." Miguel said as he held his hand out, hoping his daughter would take it but she just glared at it before opening her mouth to speak, the door rang again and the two of them looked to see Madame Kristen walking back into the store.

"[Name], you're still here? Your shift ended 30 Minutes ago, is everything alright?" She asked her employee but then she saw the towering man standing before her. "Who is this? A Customer?"

"No, a delusional man who thinks he's my dead father. He won't buy anything and he won't leave." [Name] explained, making Miguel look at her with a hurt expression on his face.

"Sir, if you're not anything to buy anything, please leave." Madame Kristen said as she gestured to the door, Miguel looked at [Name] again before he left out the store with a glare on his face.

"Are you okay, [Name]?" Kristen asked.

"Yeah.... I'll be fine. I'll see you on Monday, Madame Kristen." [Name] said as she walked out of the shop and started heading home; something about Miguel wasn't right. He was different and [Name knew she was gonna have to watch her back.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LBGTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 3, Wave 1, Poll 11

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. 

Check out the other polls in this wave and prior here.

Yoite-Nobari no Ou

Qualifications:

Heavily heavily coded relationship with another boy, canonically intersex and can be read as trans. (implied to be cafab) Suffers from flashbacks, emotional dysregulation, depersonalization due to abuse and neglect. Also terminally ill and progressively loses his sight/taste/hearing and has more trouble getting around and staying awake. Super autism coded, for that matter. To me. And many of the fans actually.

Propaganda:

A very sad boy, in a story about very sad boys fighting for self determination and learning the importance of community. He's a shinobi and can kill people by manipulating their lifeforce from the inside, but he also likes sweets and baseball and mathematics and he communicates like a shy, neglected cat. He's also named after someone's cat. Extremely good character written by an aroace and x-gender author

Anything Else?:

He is the bestest boy ever and should win this tournament by a landslide if the series were more well known

Melanie King-The Magnus Archives

Qualifications:

Bisexual and blind

Gay and blind and amazing

Melanie ends up being blinded by herself in the fourth season of the Magnus Archives, and ends up in a romantic relationship with another woman in the same season

She is blind and has a girlfriend. Canon disabled and canon wlw win 👍

she has a girlfriend and is blind

She is blind and sapphic (I'm not sure if anything exactly is ever confirmed in canon, but most people refer to her as a lesbian)

Propaganda:

she’s iconic

I love her

Oh I love my horrible woman who did many things wrong but in a way I sympathize with and also enjoy because she deserves to be a hater. Anyways so Melanie's very first appearance involved her arguing with Jon and and dismissing the way the Magnus Institute takes statements, which is a very good introduction for her in my opinion because she will continue to be a hater in regards to John. Melanie got stabbed by a ghost prior to her next appearance and briefly became a meme because turns out, when you get stabbed by a ghost, you'll want to tell people about the ghost, and she did this as she was being dragged away from where this happened. Her professional credit went downhill after this. She ends up being the catalyst of a big plot point in season 2 after this statement, because she's the only one who recognizes that Not-Sasha is, in fact, not Sasha. Then it turns out she cannot catch a break because she gets shot by a ghost later, and the ghost bullet turns out to not be a good thing later on. Melanie starts working for the Magnus Institute after Elias, her to-be horrible boss, proposes the role, since her credit has gone down so much that the job opportunity is very much needed. Then she realizes that she does not like her horrible murder boss and that she is bound to the institute, she keeps trying to kill him, which honestly I think she deserved to do because he sucks and she deserves a kill count. Though he shoves the knowledge that her father, who she thought died peacefully, actually died an agonizing, drawn out death in her brain so she stops doing that afterwards. She does help to get him arrested though, even if she really wanted to murder him. After this it is noted that she, at one point, fended off horrible flesh monsters with a knife single-handedly. John ends up realizing that the ghost bullet from earlier is still in her leg, and is more over making her far more murder hungry than she would be without it. So naturally the next step is DIY, non-consentual surgery, which she, after waking up shortly after the incident with her leg frozen and her friends committing medical malpractice, naturally objects to, which leads to her scarring John and overall not trusting him or Basira nearly as much as she might have before. Then she decides to actually prioritize her mental health a bit after going through every horror imaginable by going to therapy and insisting that, due to how the way tapes work in the archives, that none of her sessions be recorded, all while being just a bit paranoid about her therapist. Then it turned out that the only way to sever herself from the eye was to simply not have sight, and she's the one character who chooses this, getting rid of her eyesight very painfully and then moving in with Georgie, who ends up being her girlfriend. She's a little less hostile towards John after this, though she does not want to be in any archives business considering everything she went through there. Then, during the Eyepocalypse, she and her girlfriend, due to her not having sight and Georgie not having fear, are unaffected, and they sort of accidentally start a cult while trying to keep other people protected. Though it does not help that Melanie lied about having a vision that the whole thing would end, since the truth is really hopeless and bleak. She meets up with John and Martin again, is involved with the discussion of how the world can be maybe saved and is ultimately one of the three main characters to make it to the end of the finale, the others being Georgie and Basira. This is just me highlighting all of the wild things she's been up to and this would have gotten even longer if I had more propaganda.

She's so cool she tries to poison her evil boss she kicks ass she was a ghost hunter and she's also managed to escape her shitty situation by blinding herself to be able to quit her evil eldritch horror archiving job and just chill w/ her gf georgie and their cat (until the evil boss she tried to poison fucks everything up for everyone but in the end she and georgie still live and are presumably as fine as they cam be after all the shit that happened)

Only Melanie can accidentally become the Blind Prophet of the Apocalypse with her literally fearless girlfriend after trying to distance herself from the Beholding. She also had a ghost bullet infected with with The Slaughter in her leg which she got because she was a ghost hunting YouTuber/paranormal investigator.

Sometimes you gotta take your eyes out to escape your shitty job. And then you and your girlfriend live as prophets (and basically accidental cult-leaders) in the apocalypse

[mistyyyy]

How about a tall black reader who's father is a na'vi and mother is human causing her to have shading of blue on her arms and feet ( not t like vitiligo) and she has the same nerves sistem of na'vi and is taller than the avatar boys and is a super dom

Thinking about you

Oooh

I have two versions of this, I couldn't decide what to do but I think I made the right choice. The first one was peepee poopoo. sorry for not updating on this page for mooooonths but yall know how I do lol. It’s kinda meeehhhh, I need to ease my way back into smut lol

small blurb.

jake sully X black hybrid Navi reader

⚠️content:size kink, slightly perve jake, sub jake sully, jake m-wording (Tumblr is being very strict abt smut) abt you, HEAVY CHOKING KINK (creamin), embarrassed jake lol, small text

Pandoras sex symbol.

Or at least that's what Jake Sully calls you in his head. You were perfect, everything about you was perfect. The way your brown skin faded into the dark forest blue, the stripes in your body covering your strong limbs from head to toe. You were so fascinating. In a way, you reminded him of Earth, the good parts of it at least. From your human features to the way you wore your camo lioncloth. But what got him the most was your height. You were taller than most, maybe the tallest out of the clan, standing at a confident 9ft with the prettiest tight curly hair that mostly stayed in braids, wooden beads always sporting them. Your eyes were a little smaller than the regular Navi, but they were still that pretty amber he grew to love.

And that voice. Good lord above. He couldnt even count on his 10 didgets how many times he had goosebumps from it. It was deeper than the average womens, and he loved it. Especially when you talked in his ear after you pushed him into the floor by his neck. That with the combination of your strong thighs straddling him between your body. "come on sully, do better." it was a gentle scold, your accent causing his sweaty body to spasm under your heavy body, this movement making you drive him more into the dirt, hot bodies pressing into each other. "you're killing me right now.." he grunts, his hips pulling back into the dirt in hopes to not meet yours. "not yet at least." You pulled back, handing coming back from his neck with a cocky grin. You always won these competitions. Being born and raised here, trained by the RDA soldiers and the local navi before they got sent away. You were born to overpower him, even if he's been on the planet for 15 years.

He could never win against you, not that he wanted to, always ending up below you was his favorite part of the day. Every time the two of you would split up to go home, he didn't waste time pulling his matted braids up in a ponytail and stripping from his straining cloth. Dropping to his knees on his bouncy mat bed to grab the base of his thick cock. Impatient movements, he brought his hand back up to spit in his hand and back down to gently fist his tip. Frantic pumps going up and down his length with a drawn-out groan, head falling back as his free hand ran over the burning flesh of his abs, thick pecs until it found its way up the blue collums of his neck, holding it tight, giving him the light headed feeling you gave him a few times a week.

"fuck..aah shit" he cursed lazily in his native langueage, eyes fighting to stay open as his wet hand grips and twists the dripping head of his dick. Your hand around his thoat, tight even if it was a playful fight, you were so rough with him, always saying he could handle it. Fuck ,I can handle it. He squeezes his throat tighter, the pressure causing him to bite his lip, muffling his whimper as his warm seed squirts onto his fist, dripping down his fingers until it reached his tensed thighs.

Slowly grinding into his hand, letting his high settle, his eyes flutter open and looked down at the mess he's made once he came to a stop. Oh god, she'd kill me.

_______

Very not edited

[janearts]

I'm not super familiar with D&D lore, but how does Roisia's parents' relationship work? With her mother being a Kelemvorite and her father possessing his own skeleton? Or does her mother even know about his current state?

I adore Roisia and your work

Thank you! The short of it is: it's work but it works and she knows. Got into the weeds of it under the cut.

Yasmin couldn't bring herself to execute her duty as a Cleric of Kelemvor and former Necrobane and execute her (now undead) husband. In one fell swoop, Roisia ruined her mother's otherwise stellar track record as a Kelemvorite.

Logistically, if Yasmin wanted her husband to have freedom of movement, she could no longer offer room and board to the servants and staff in her employ. She allowed rumours that her business was suffering financially go unchallenged, since an undead husband in a funeral home is even worse for business. Generally speaking, Roisia's father, Jairus, keeps to the upstairs (the family's quarters) and attic during business hours and is free to roam the house and grounds at night. (This is of course on the condition that there are no funerary celebrations that evening.) He now puts his carpentry skills to work in the fashioning of coffins and caskets, but otherwise his time is his own.

Because they no longer have live-in servants, the family now has to take on more domestic labour (e.g., cleaning, laundering) to prevent their servants from discovering the lie. Jairus has commandeered cooking for his family, but will clean or launder clothes when bored. I should note here that both Jairus and Yasmin came from working-class backgrounds. They know how to do domestic labour; it was Roisia who grew up with servants and who had to learn to do without.

The relationships (between spouses, between child and parent) are loving, but not without strain. Jairus is fundamentally lonely. He feels like a ghost: he can't go back to work at the docks as a shipwright, he can't go out for a pint at the Maid with his mates, he can't go off to the countryside to visit with his side of the family, he can't even take a walk around the city at night for fear of discovery. So he grasps at any family time he can get, which is tough when he is functionally nocturnal and the rest of his small family is diurnal.

Yasmin, meanwhile, still deeply loves her husband even as a skeleton, but she also sees his pain. She is torn between keeping her daughter happy (father lives) and offering her husband a way out (father dies), and struggles with the guilt of whether or not a mercy killing would really be a mercy to Jairus... or to her. And then, some nights, she worries that perhaps she would not be able to kill him at all were she ever to try, and that would make everything all the worse.

Roisia, meanwhile, is largely ignorant of her parent's anxieties. She is still elated to have her father back in whatever capacity. She enjoys picking up the thread of their past lives: stargazing and charting with him, chatting to him from the kitchen table while he cooks, demanding that he retwist her locs even when he's certain she doesn't need a retwist, trying to outplay him at games, etc. She hides her studies in Necromancy as best as possible from her parents, but dreams of a day of restoring her father to the way he was, flesh and all.

TL;DR: "Works" is the operative word here. Everyone is doing their best with what they've got.

[lateatnewyork]

Mine

Adult!Nyx Archeron x reader

Warnings: Smut under the cut, pregnancy, afab!reader, breeding kink, fluff, swearing (let me know if i missed any 🫶🏻)

Summary: Reader is pregnant and going through mood swings luckily her mate is there to help her through this one.

a/n: this is my first fic on this account and it is purely self indulgent hopefully you guys like it

It was a slow day for the High Lord and the High Lady, both passing away time on the couch.

Your POV

I was lying on Nyx’s bare chest. As he had gotten his first holiday as a father and he spent it caressing my belly and cuddling on the couch. I don’t know what I would do without him. His touch grazing over my belly as he silently read a book with me lying on his chest. Technically speaking, we were both meant to be reading but after one of my many mood swings of the day, Nyx had suggested that he read to me. And to be honest his voice was so angelic that it always put me at ease.

However, today my gaze was focused on his fingers rubbing on the exposed part of my torso. My shirt (his shirt) had ridden up just below my boobs. I let out a small whimper as his fingers accidentally grazed over my sensitive nipples.

I prayed to the gods he didn’t notice. But of course the Fae hearing was never in your favour. His hands froze and his voice stopped.

“My love,” his voice had dropped become lower and huskier. I let out a more audible whimper this time. “Nyx, don’t be a tease” I whine as his hands graze against my clothed cunt.

“Do my fingers turn you on, darling” he says softly. “Yes but I need your cock, baby” I say whining pathetically.

I turn around fully this time straddling him, my lips lower and I kiss him hard on the mouth. His hands stray from my stomach to my ass, now massaging the two globes of flesh. I moan into his mouth, my whole body turned on and extra sensitive.

I pulled his sweats and his boxers down and whimpered as he ripped my panties off.

Bucking my hips against him, I tangled my hands in his hair as he got the memo and slipped inside me. I was so wet he slipped in without friction. I let out a loud moan as he bottomed. “Gods Nyx you’re so big,”

He groaned at my words and I reached to tug my shirt off. “Leave it on darling,” he cooed, and somehow I got even more turned on.

His hands slipped underneath the shirt massaging my tits and pinching them. A mix of incoherent moans and whines escaped my mouth.

“Shit love you look so pretty” he groaned. “My mate, my high lady, my wife wearing my shirt, riding on my cock, carrying my child”.

His words sparked something primal in me as i started bouncing on his cock and raking my fingernails over his tense abs.

I moaned at the feeling of him hitting that spot, “Oh baby ‘m gonna cum all over your cock,”

His fingers went to my clit, circling the swollen bundle of nerves, “Let go, baby girl, milk my cock” his words had me falling over the edge. His hips stutter in their thrusts and he spills inside me.

As we came down from our high, he slipped his cock out, pulled up his pants and hooked his hands under my thighs, carrying me to our bedroom.

Laying down on the bed I whisper a soft “I love you,” to Nyx and he replies with a kiss and “I love you more than the stars love the moon”.

“You’re gonna be a great mum, sweetheart” He says with a lazy smile. I look up at him with a drunken smile on my face, “I think she’s definitely gonna be a daddy’s girl,” I say with a smile not even Amarantha could wipe out. “Who says it’s gonna be a girl?” he retorts, “Call it mother’s intuition,” I say back without missing a beat.

His head rests on my chest as he peppers small kisses over the exposed skin. Warm hands slip under the shirt and gently hold my waist, Nyx lays a kiss on my belly saying “Daddy loves you sweetie” and at that moment I felt a kick to my stomach. I let out a loud gasp as he looks up at me from my stomach. “Did you feel that?” I stutter out. “Yeah I did” he says smiling.

“I love you”

[abibliophobiaa]

a blurb of elena seeing eddie on stage for the first time, she’s got her big ear defenders on and is bouncing away 🥺

a blurb from the ‘daylight’ universe.

a/n: before elena was born, eddie dreamed of this day. now it’s here.

dad!eddie munson x mom!reader.

——

You hadn’t really known what to expect. Nothing exactly prepared one for the life as a wife to a rockstar. Especially when still adjusting to your new title as a wife, while also balancing new motherhood.

Still, it shocked you to see all the security at the door. The men in uniforms looking garbed and ready to defend their clients if need be; a thought that should bring you comfort, but when their narrowed gazes settle on you, have your heart hammering away.

“I’m with Munson,” you tell them, bouncing Elena up higher on your hip. “I’m Eddie Munson’s wife.”

He barked out a gruff laugh. “You know how many women say that at these shows?”

The burly, bald-headed man glanced down at his clipboard, while a more…gentler looking man, aged and weathered by years, nodded his head to your daughter. “She’s a cute kid. How old?”

“Almost six months,” you told him, grinning sheepishly as her head thumped against your shoulder.

“And already at her first concert,” the man said, waving to your daughter who only babbled in reply.

“It’s in her blood.” She’d danced away inside any time you’d played music for her while pregnant, and loved the sound of her father’s voice — singing and not.

“Dad being who he is, I guess it’s expected.” The bald-headed man had spoken then, dark eyes sliding over your form as he handed you a lanyard that you draped around your neck. “Apologies, Mrs. Munson. Enjoy your evening.”

You were lead to the green room next, finding yourself greeted by all the guys and Jeff’s wife. The guys took turns fawning over the baby, making faces at her so she’d laugh, taking her off your hands. And then, just like the night you’d first met, Eddie’s dark stare caught and held yours.

Something hot flickered in your belly, Jeff’s wife’s voice a low murmur in your ear, “Go, you two have a few minutes. We’ve got the baby.”

Eddie grinned wolfishly, gripping your hand and tugging you away from the room and into an empty storage closet further down the hall. A dim bulb flickered up above, illuminating the whiteness of Eddie’s teeth as they glinted with his growing smile, his hands warm as they circled your hips and drew you in close.

“Hi, Mrs. Munson.” He’d been saying it every day since you’d made it so. Wanting to relish in the newness of your titles — of what you meant to one another. It had been a whirlwind, and still was now with him beginning the next legs of Corroded Coffin’s tour. “You’re late.”

“Someone at the door thought I was a groupie,” you huffed, breaking off into a sigh as those hands slid lower, gliding over your backside to pull you flush against his hips. “Is that a microphone in your pocket, or are you excited to see me?”

A barked laugh greeted your ears, lips pressing to the curve of your neck, teasing along delicate flesh. You shivered bodily against him, clutching at his biceps, “I told him I was your wife. Apparently you have a lot of those.”

“Only the one,” he whispered, voice a little hoarse as he dropped down to his knees and fisted your skirt. “And I love her so damn much.”

“You’re the one about to perform,” you gasped, feeling his lips at the juncture of your thighs. “You should be saving you energy.”

“Baby…” His fingers at your center, sliding in to the knuckle, choking off your air supply. “I’m giving a private performance right now.”

——

The crowd was electric, feeding off of the energy of the guys on stage. They’d finished up their set, Elena awake for all of it, cradled on your hip with an oversized pair of headphones to muffle the sound on her curly head of hair. Bleary eyes watched her father all night, absorbed as he commanded the attention of everyone around her.

He’d commanded your attention, too. Eyes trailing your husband’s form as he did the thing he was most passionate about. Those hands, those same hands that had lovingly touched you before the show, the ones that trailed your spine as you fell asleep at night, that held your baby girl strummed away like his instrument was an extension of him own self. Hands that created music that told stories, that spoke to hardship and experience, to love and anger.

And the crowd reveled in it. Soaked it up as the guys poured out their hearts and left them on the stage. Incredible — they were incredible.

“Thank you, New York!” Eddie cheered, breaking into the screaming of the crowd. “It’s been too fuckin’ long.”

Cheers of agreement greeted your ears. “Glad you liked the new stuff. Can I show you something else we cooked up while away for a bit?” The crowd roared, and Jeff’s wife stirred beside you as Eddie’s gaze swiveled to where you stood side stage. “Couldn’t have done any of it without my beautiful wife. And the newest member of the Corroded Coffin family.”

A second spotlight slid across the stage, honing in on you and your daughter. Cried ‘awwws’ greeted your ears as you waved a hand in embarrassment, Eddie rushing over to grab Elena and bounce her up onto his hip. You couldn’t even be mad that a woman screamed she loved him from within the sea of bodies, because you understood whole heartedly.

“Goodnight, New York!” Eddie shouted, lifting Elena’s hand and waving to his fans before rushing over to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

“You broke thousands of hearts tonight, Munson,” you teased, reaching up to slide your hand against his sweaty chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart against your fingertips as the crowd surged just feet away, clapping as the rest of the guys rushed off the stage for the night.

“Only two that matter are right here,” he promised, drawing you close for a hug, your free hand coming up to rest against Elena’s back. “This is all I could have ever dreamed of. You, her, this.”

“Not a dream anymore,” you said, tipping your head up to look into his dark eyes, “this is real. This is us.”

Forever.

——

[wanderinginksplot]

What to watch during the writer's strike:

Don't pay attention to companies who blame writers for delayed movies and television shows! The WGA strike comes from people who are trying to make things better - not only for themselves and other writers, but the films and tv shows we all love.

While we wait for a resolution, I thought I would share some existing television shows that I enjoy. I didn't bother with too much well-known stuff. Instead, I focused on shows I feel many people missed because of the glut of content that all premiered at once over the last few years. (I may make another one of these for movies later on, but this one is about tv.)

[Update: Movie version here]

Feel free to add on! Just try to give a quick, spoiler-free synopsis for the show and the streaming service where it can be found.

List under the cut!

Netflix:

The Good Place (2016-2020) - A 'bad' woman is accidentally sent to heaven. She and her moral philosophy professor of a soulmate try to save her soul by making her a better person. Genre: Comedy with deeper implications and one of the best endings in television history.

Russian Doll (2019-2022) - When Nadia dies at her birthday party, she's more than a little confused to come back. Especially when it keeps happening. Genre: Time loop drama with a wicked sense of humor and a dash of theoretical physics. Potentially not ended?

Narcos (2015-2017) - The fight of the American DEA and the Colombian army against cocaine kingpin Pablo Escobar and his reign of terror. Genre: Drama with thrilling elements. Lots of violence, some sex and language. Lots of subtitles. Features Pedro Pascal and Boyd Holbrook, if you need some extra incentive.

Derry Girls (2018-2022) - Five teens grow up in Derry, Ireland in the 1990s, amid the final years of the Troubles, a low-level war that lasted roughly 30 years. Genre: Comedy. Some sexual content, some religious content, less violence than you would expect, and the best nun ever to appear on film.

Arcane (2021-?) - Two sisters are alienated when one accidentally kills their adoptive father. Their different paths threaten the fragile peace of a city already on the breaking point. Genre: Drama with elements of action-adventure. Though it's animated, Arcane's animation is beautifully done with tantalizing steampunk elements that will keep you invested.

Disney+:

Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008-2020) - If you haven't seen any of the Star Wars animated series, this is a good place to start. Set in the time gap between Episode II and Episode III, this series helps flesh out Anakin Skywalker and the Jedi. It is also a great introduction to some of the characters and plots of The Mandalorian. (Star Wars: Rebels is another good choice.) Genre: Adventure with some drama. Violence and death are a large part of The Clone Wars, but it's usually appropriate for children. The clone troopers will steal your heart!

Gravity Falls (2012-2016) - Dipper Pines and his sister Mabel are sent to Gravity Falls, Oregon to live with their great-uncle for their summer break. But when Dipper finds a mysterious book in the woods, the pair find that Gravity Falls is far more mysterious than it seems... Genre: Adventure with a lot of comedy. Though it's billed as a children's cartoon, Gravity Falls is an intriguing watch with mystery subplots that will keep anyone guessing. It also features a famously strong and cohesive series ending. I was in my late 20s when I first watched this and I was still invested!

Daredevil (2015-2018) - After being blinded as a young boy, Matthew Murdock trained his other senses to replace the sight that he lost. He uses his skills to protect the helpless in the New York City neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen. Genre: Action and superhero. Features a lot of incredibly choreographed violence. (Jessica Jones is also an excellent show to watch, especially if you think of David Tennant as the consummate 'good guy'. He's got range!)

HBO Max (Just 'Max' now, I guess):

Ghosts (2019-2023) - Petty roommate squabbles don't stop just because you're dead! Alison and her husband Mike inherit a house, then a near-death experience allows Alison to see its ghostly inhabitants. Chaos and humor ensue as the ghosts try to adjust to the house's new owners. Genre: Humor. Ghosts is a British sitcom, but since the writers are comedians (writing and performing in Horrible Histories), the show is done in a style that feels more natural to American viewers. Hint: watch the BBC version, not the American one. They're fairly similar, but definitely not the same!

Pushing Daisies (2007-2009) - A pie-maker with the ability to bring back the dead helps to solve murders. He's helped by his once-dead childhood sweetheart. Genre: Comedy with some dramatic elements. Some of the CGI-heavy moments haven't aged particularly well, but the show has a unique premise and an incredibly talented cast!

Hulu:

Abbott Elementary (2021-?) - This mockumentary series showcases an inner-city elementary school in Philadelphia. The teachers and administration do their best for the kids, but they're constrained by budgets and the limitations of the educational system itself. Genre: Comedy mockumentary. Though Abbott Elementary is fictional, some of the issues brought up are all too real. This is a funny and incisive look at the American public school system.

Amazon Prime:

Fleabag (2016-2019) - The unnamed protagonist of the show struggles through life on her own with limited support from her alienated family and the memories of her recently deceased best friend. Genre: Comedy with lots of dramatic elements. Lots of sexual content and references, some language, breaking the fourth-wall, and several characters you just long to hit. I watched the second season in a single day, that's how good this was.

Unknown Streaming Service:

Black Sails (2014-2017) - This prequel to Treasure Island features elements from the book, original characters, and real pirates from history in a setting that emphasizes realism. Captain Flint and his crew search for a legendary prize... one that might allow them to claim Nassau for their own. Genre: Action and adventure. Think Game of Thrones, but with pirates. Incredibly well-written and well-acted with gorgeous scenery, LGBTQ representation, and just enough historical accuracy to keep things grounded. Black Sails also boasts one of the best endings ever given for a television show.

Like I said, please feel free to reblog and add your own television show recommendations onto this list! There are plenty of things to watch and plenty of ways to support the WGA strike that don't involve giving in to big studios.

[coi-arts]

so much potential on bloberta's childhood its driving me nuts we never got to see it. clay got his childhood fleshed out in the series, but we only get a glimpse of bloberta's 💀 i kinda wanted to see in detail how the conservative town of moralton and her neglectful mother affected her behavior growing up etc,, was she a rebellious teen who liked multiple godgasm? an achiever maybe in school to get a glimpse of appreciation from her mother/family only to be shrugged off?? from her bedroom when she was young did she have many hobbies so she could in some ways be appreciated by people?? it seemed that she had some sort of personality before being numb from being this "perfect wife" persona she has now being married to clay, and we never got to see more of that

how did she come to terms with the whole "ur only purpose in this world is to be a mother and a give your husband his every need"? i doubt she ever wanted any of that in the first place, but she was forced/molded to think that way.

the whole alcoholic depressed teenager we see for a while how did that start off? how bout her relationship with her father, and how that influenced her to influence clay to drink? i want to see more of why she viewed men who drank very "positively". IM GONNA RIP MY HAIR OUT AUUUGHH

ANYWAYS MY GIRL HAS LAYERRSSS SHE HAS NUANCE !! such an underrated chatacter 😭😭

[sixx-sixx-sixx]

TEASER: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x female!OC - The Trader’s Daughter

I just wanted to hop on here and share a little bit of what I’ve been working on to contribute to the Cooper Howard fangirls 😭😂 Please let me know your thoughts and feedback is always appreciated!!

Synopsis:

Daisy is the daughter of an ex-vault dweller/wasteland forager named Josiah, who escaped the vault when she was only a child. In his time exploring the wasteland for the benefit of the vault, Josiah meets Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard, who becomes a lifelong acquaintance after a few heated run-ins. Cooper pulls some strings and uses his connections to get Josiah a safe place for him and his daughter, where Josiah becomes a trader of chems and anything else you could want from a trading post.

The Ghoul goes out of his way to make sure Josiah and his flower are well taken care of, and Josiah makes sure that Cooper gets the chems he needs to ward off going feral. Throws in some extra when he sees that Coop’s making an effort to get his kid to gain basic survival skills. (There’s totally a “they were roommates” vibe between her dad and Cooper, but I’m not going too in depth on any of that) Daisy’s just thankful to have a fun time when her Coop comes to visit.

As the years go by, Cooper’s visits to the shop become less frequent, stopping completely when our protagonist is 14. Daisy never stops thinking about the man who her dad trusted more than anyone in the wasteland, the ghoul who frequently went out of his way to bring her small trinkets from his travels as a bounty hunter.

Cooper returns to the trading post after over a decade. Except now, the once welcoming community has become more barbaric, with less smiling faces and more fighting and outlaws. By all means, it was your average wasteland town. He’s surprised to walk into Josiah’s trading post and see a breathtaking young woman come out from the back room, the type of woman men would go to war over in ancient times.

Shocked to see her ghoul standing in front of her, seeing him for the first time as a grown woman, with a grown woman brain and a grown woman body. Daisy had spent many years thinking about him, developed a crush in her teenage years that had bloomed in her chest for a decade. She knew that there was nothing there, there couldn’t be, he was her father’s closest acquaintance for years. He’d watched her grow up, essentially. No way she had a chance, but still, it didn’t hurt to yearn for the irradiated cowboy.

- so yeah. That’s like, the gist of what’s going on so far, it’s definitely not fully fleshed out, but I wanted to post some kind of teaser/synopsis of what I’ve got written messily in my notes app 😅 I want this to be multi part, not sure how many parts yet, but I definitely have at least 4 sections of blurbs in my notes that are going to turn into 4 parts. It’ll be slow burn, definitely a little big of dad’s best friend cooper (I’m just a girl, I can’t help it), definitely some daddy issues at some point, and diverges from canon probably a LOT because I’ve got a general idea of the fallout universe but it’s by no means comprehensive. The first part/chapter is probably gonna be her background, why her dad escaped the vault/maybe how he got acquainted with cooper.

- I also haven’t written anything in years, so be gentle with me 😭

[emmyrosee]

She’s been an absolute brat all day.

Atsumu can’t take it anymore, as cute as Hisako is in the flesh and bone, she’s one of the most stubborn little girls he’s ever met- granted, he’s only met like, three, but she’s on the top of that list.

He can’t blame her, she’s got Miya blood in her veins, but he’s never seen the effects this potent.

And today? She’s in a goddamned mood.

Atsumu puts her hair up, she takes it down because she doesn’t like it.

She doesn’t want to eat her breakfast because of how it’s arranged on the plate.

She didn’t want to brush her teeth because of how the toothbrush felt in her mouth.

Atsumu told her he’s going to leave without her, she said “that’s fine.”

She didn’t want to buckle her seatbelt, because the seatbelt made her skin itch.

(“No,” he snarls. “This is not a negotiation. You’re getting buckled.”

“But I don’t want to!” She pouts. “You n’ mommy nd’ uncle Samu tell me I don’t gotta do stuff I’m on-comfter-ble with!

“This is different and Miya Hisako, if you do not listen to me, so help me gods-“)

He’s at his limit.

How can she be so precious with her mother, her uncle, the other uncles who is on Atsumu’s team, her granny, literally everyone but him?

Menace.

It takes two hours to get Hisako ready and fed and in the car for school, Atsumu is sure he’s got grey hairs now, but he’s thankful to at least have her in the car. The ride is silent and tense, with Atsumu’s white knuckles gripping the wheel with the force of 1000 gods. In the mirror, he sees her little arms crossed, her lips in a little scowl, and she looks so much like him when he was a kid it’s hilarious- if he ever acted like this as a kid though, he needs to send his poor mother a muffin basket ASAP.

Finally, finally, they’re able to get to school without getting into another spat, and Atsumu sighs and parks his car, but before he gets out to let Hisako out, he turns in his seat with a soft smile.

“Listen, baby,” he says sweetly, trying to extend an olive branch to his damned six year old. “I… I want you to have a good day today, okay?” His tips his head when the pout etched on Hisako’s lips soften. “Do you wanna tell daddy what’s wrong? What I can do to help?”

Hisako sighs and fiddles with her tiny fingers. Atsumu nods softly in encouragement, ready for his babygirl to confide in her favorite person and reach a resolution that would help them both through the day, and-

“It’s you, daddy.”

Uh.

What.

“Excuse me!”

“It’s you!” She whines again, her legs kicking out in her seat for emphasis.

Atsumu is convinced he’s never been more offended in his life. He knows his little girl could be a tiny devil, she was her father’s spawn, but this?

Horrendous betrayal.

“What the heck did I do!”

“Other than breathin’, nothin’!” She grumbles, the scowl on her lip out once again. “You just get on my nerves sometimes!”

“You little-!” He unbuckles himself to fully turn in his seat. “You don’t even know what that means, okay?!”

“Uh-huh I do!” She crosses her tiny arms, “you get on uncle ‘samu’s nerves all t’ time! He tells me!! He goes ‘your dad’s real good at gettin’ on my nerves!’” She huffs, “and now I ‘gree!”

“That’s not-! That’s-! You’re-!” While Atsumu scrambles for words, Hisako is blinking at him with the most wide, angry eyes, and he growls deep in his throat when he can’t find the words to convey how salty he is. Scrambling, he escapes his way out of the car to open the door to his back seat, brows furrowed.

“I hope you have the day you deserve!” He snips, fingers diving in to tickle her sides and up to her neck, and he tries not to soften at the sound of her laughter. “I hope, that none of your markers work, and all of your crayons are broken, and all your letters are messed up!” Tiny hands shove at his, bouncing in her seat to try and fight him away.

“Daddy, no!” She squeals.

“I hope that all your papers get crinkled, and I hope the lunch uncle Osamu packed you doesn’t come with a note! I hope that your friends only want you to swing when you play jump rope, and I hope you get sand in your shoe in the sandbox, you little snot!”

With that, he retracts his hands and unbuckles her seat, still trying to keep an angry facade, despite the fact that seeing her smile is more than enough to break that feeling. Quickly, Atsumu unbuckles her seat and pulls her up and out of the car, passing her backpack to her with a tiny ruffle of her hair. “Get outta here.”

Atsumu cards his hair back and looks to the sky for whoever was listening for patience, but that silent prayer is interrupted by a gentle tug on his sweatpants.

“What?”

She flashes him her biggest set of puppy eyes, and Atsumu quirks a brow. “You didn’t give me a hug…” her fingers clasp in front of her innocently. “‘N I don’t like that. You still give mommy hugs when she mad at you.”

The vein in his forehead throbs but he chuckles at his little girl’s words, because sure, maybe she is right, the little shit. He bends down to scoop her into his big arms, squeezing her tight with a playful groan of effort while she curls her arms around his neck.

“I do hope you have a good day, princess,” he hums, kissing her temple. “Even if I made you mad this morning with my breathing.” Hisako giggles into his neck, and with another kiss to her head, he finally puts her down and sends her back off with her teacher, sighing at the little terror he calls his daughter.

He gets back in the car. He picks up his phone. Immediately, his fingers fly over the keyboard to dial his brothers number.

“It’s 7 in the morning, one of ya better be dying-“

“YOU TELL YOUR NIECE I GET ON YOUR NERVES?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, he hears his twin, his younger twin, the twin he should’ve eaten in the womb, chuckle.

“Yeah,” he says cooly, like this hasn’t been the lead cause of chaos for the first four hours of Atsumu’s day.

“Sometimes, you manage to piss me off with just breathin’, ‘tsumu.”

based on this tiktok hehehe