#literally not being able to live without their other half…

[cryptcunt]

a bitch with bpd said they like symbrock i said Oh im sure..

[omarwolaeth]

thinking 'bout how the lads interact with what the bracelets represent, especially in their decks

[coldmilkchoices]

using screens that dont have light filters on them

[crescenthistory]

okay idea…c1 with regulus and a reader who is either very clumsy or very sick and he can’t help but dote over her and take care of her <33

terribly sorry if you are not a moonwater girlie, but this request has been hijacked into a poly!moonwater fic 🙏 i love them, your honour

Prompt: C.1 "I want nothing more than to kiss away all your pain"

Words: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: fem!reader, references to injuries, light sickness/illness, regulus being a Worried Boyfriend, remus being a Doting Mediator, light hurt/comfort, nauseating amounts of fluff, sirius being the butt of the joke, literally just cuddles massages and kisses

You apparently see your daily life as one long continuous extreme sport, and thus, so are the lives of Regulus and Remus, whose hearts are always working overtime to handle the stress of your near-death experiences.

When Regulus ran up to Remus, slightly red in the face and already huffing and puffing, Remus knew for a fact that you were the cause of his concern. Others might have read his body language as angry, but Remus knew this to be his boyfriend’s mother hen instincts kicking in – which means his were about to, too.

“What’s she do?” Remus sighed as he stood up from his seat outside the Great Hall, already throwing his bookbag over his shoulder, prepared to walk off.

“She’s in the infirmary,” Regulus hissed, grabbing Remus by the arm to pull him away, barely slowing down his gait.

“Oi! You can’t just run off!” 

Remus, admittedly, had forgotten that his best friend – his boyfriend’s brother, mind you – was sitting with him and was in the middle of chatting his ear off when he spotted Regulus. “Sorry, Pads, I’ll catch you later,” he tried calling over his shoulder as Regulus wholeheartedly ignored him.

“What?! Hey, no–” Sirius all but sputtered, self-righteously undignified by the whole ordeal, as if this was not a common occurrence by now. James began patting his back not much unlike one would do a child, placating him with whispers, no doubt about all the mess they could get into without Remus’ supervision.

“Why is she in the infirmary?” Remus asked when he was able to return his full attention to the boy whose breathing was still a bit too quick for comfort. He had half a mind to begin taking care of him instead and calm him down, but for now he settled for pulling him further into his side as they walked.

“I don’t know,” Regulus bit out through clenched teeth. “Pandora just told me in passing that she had seen her in there. I have no idea what she has gotten herself into this time. You’re lucky I walked past you on the way there, otherwise you would have been the last to know.”

Remus mulled over it for a moment, visualising your schedule that he memorised months ago. “She had Care for Magical Creatures last period, right?”

Regulus’ head whipped to the side to stare at him incredulously, clearly not having pieced that together yet. Though it was hard to tell, it seemed like his face had paled. His grip on Remus’ arm migrated to interlocking their elbows so he could more effectively drag Remus along as he sped up at the thought of what could have happened.

One of the things Remus most enjoyed about your relationship was getting to know the small quirks of yours and Regulus', your signs and your tells. For Regulus to forget all about Remus’ aching joints and rushing him along without ample support meant that he was beyond stressed on your behalf. Had Regulus not been here, Remus would have been much the same, thoughts able to spiral into the darkest of places when left to his own devices – alas, he was, so Remus collected himself appropriately and tried to be the grounded one.

“She’ll be alright,” he murmured as they turned the last corner before the infirmary. 

“She bloody better be,” Regulus huffed, voice laced with concern and poorly-hidden devotion. “Because I will be having a word with her about not prioritising her health and safety.”

Remus squared his shoulders, prepared to play the dual role of mediator and concerned boyfriend, perhaps with a touch of nurse as well, if necessary. 

“Good afternoon, Poppy,” he greeted warmly when he saw Madam Pomfrey by the entrance, giving Regulus’ arm a subtle tug to make him slow down. If there was one thing the matron did not tolerate, it was disturbances in her little wing.

“Oh, Remus, are there any concerns today?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion as this visit did not line up with their usual cycle of visits. Quickly, her eyes drifted over to Regulus, whose face was still noticeably flushed and realisation dawned on her face. “Ah, I see. She’s to the left, three beds down. Though I would advise keeping a distance.”

Regulus’ eyes widened almost comically at the last comment, letting go of Remus in favour of stalking down the hall as quickly as Madam Pomfrey would allow. Remus had to admit his own heart twisted in worried confusion as he gave a small smile and thanks before hurrying after his boyfriend.

He saw Regulus slip between some white privacy curtains mere seconds before he was able to follow himself. “Amour!” he heard Regulus say, abandoning any attempt to conceal his worry.

Remus held his breath as he drew the curtain back just enough to enter your little makeshift alcove, expecting the worst. Surely, he would find you with your leg elevated in a large cast, bloodied bandages all over your face or arms, hair half burnt off.

Instead he heard a small sniffle and your flushed face came into view where it poked out from beneath heaps of wool blankets.

“Oh, hi lovelies,” you murmured in the sweetest tone but with the most painful rasp Remus had heard in a while. It was immediately followed by a fit of coughs.

“Oh, dovey,” Remus cooed pathetically, rushing to sit down on the side of your bed. Regulus was still standing by the curtain, mouth slightly agape as he took in the scene.

This clearly was not what either of them had expected.

“What happened to you lovely girl, hm?” Remus whispered to you, perhaps with a small hope that you would reply in an equally low tone and spare your clearly hoarse voice.

You were truly bundled up under mountains of blankets, messy hair, glossy eyes and runny nose the only visible part of your body. The bedside table was littered with used handkerchiefs, paper towels and small plastic cups used to take potions. Some bottles of potion Remus identified as cold treatments were placed on the edge with a little note with jotted down time stamps. You looked absolutely, thoroughly poorly. 

“I’m sick,” you said hoarsely. You made a noise that sounded like choked laughter, likely at how terrible you sounded, but it just made it worse.

“We can see that, amour.” Regulus’ voice had become ten times softer, and he sat down on the other side of the bed from Remus, reaching out to cup your surely overheated face with his perpetually-cold hand. Remus could feel the phantom touch as his fingers ghosted over the apple of your cheek. 

“Don’t be rude,” you whispered cheekily, but you leaned into his touch with a sigh. “I look perfectly happy and healthy.”

Regulus snorted that laugh he only ever let slip around you two. “You do look beautiful as always. Though perhaps a bit like you’re on your deathbed, which you know you’re not allowed to be.”

You groaned, stretching your body beneath the tangle of blankets. “Ugh, I know,” you huffed, sounding pained. “I feel like it, too. Woke up feeling a bit, I don’t know, stuffy, but I tried to head off to class,” – Regulus made a disapproving sound, but let you continue – “and then I just really came down with it in Astronomy. Didn’t even make it to Magical Creatures.”

At least that's a relief.

“You should have stayed in bed if you woke up feeling poorly, love,” Remus murmured, fishing for your hand beneath the blankets. You happily gave it to him and his heart keened at how you seemed to crave his touch. 

“But I didn’t know I felt poorly poorly. Just… poorly. You know?”

Remus sighed almost dreamily. “I don’t.”

At the same time, Regulus softly said, “You’re not making much sense, pretty girl.”

You groaned your way through a voice crack, turning your head into the pillow on the side Regulus wasn’t lightly caressing. “I feel like the fever is eating at my brain.”

Both boys hummed in sympathy. Remus fought the urge to manhandle Regulus into bed beside you so he could hold you both and shield you from the world.

“It’s alright, amour. Sirius has survived 17 years without a brain, so you can surely manage at reduced capacity for a day or two.” He wore a cheeky smile from the beginning of the sentence, evidently proud of the opportunity to jab at his older brother.

Remus would have to deny it if Sirius asked, but he barked a laugh.

“That’s not very nice, Reggie,” you almost whimpered, though you too were smiling too. “I don’t have the energy to tell you off for being mean to your brother.”

“Well, at least we got one good thing out of your suffering,” Regulus offered, and his smile grew genuine when you laughed at that and lightly shoved his shoulder – clearly his end goal.

You furrowed your brows and brought your unoccupied hand up to rub by your temple. “I really do feel horrid, though. I might have to stay here overnight.”

“You poor sweet thing,” Remus cooed in sympathy. He lightly guided your hand back to lay on your chest as he brought his hands up to massage carefully at both of your temples, moving his thumb in slow circles. Regulus let his hand move from your cheek to drift through your hair so Remus could have space, calming the chaos of frizz caused by your time in bed. Your sigh sounded heavenly as you sunk further back into the pillows and let your eyes drift shut. “We’ll take care of you, yeah? Nurse you back to health?”

You hummed your approval, small tug at the corner of your lips that warmed his heart.

Regulus used the spell Sirius had constructed to expand the infirmary beds during Remus’ monthly stays, adding enough space for him to lay down beside you. When Sirius made it, it had originally been with the intention of the Marauders huddling together, but it was quickly capitalised on by you and Regulus. He got more comfortable beside you, head on the pillow next to yours where he continued playing with your hair in that way he knew soothed you. Remus remained sitting so he could give your face and scalp ample attention, relieving you of your tension headache with practiced ease.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, voice muddled by your hoarseness and oncoming sleepiness. Remus just smiled in response, trusting you would know it even when you couldn’t see it.

“Of course, amour,” Regulus whispered in turn, sounding more emotional than usual when confronted with your vulnerable state. This was nowhere close to the scolding-deserving mishap he had expected to find in the infirmary. “I want nothing more than to kiss away all your pain.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” you huffed then. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

Regulus let out a breathy laugh and kissed your forehead defiantly, bottom lip brushing against Remus’ thumb and shooting pleasurable tingles up along his skin. “Too bad, lovely. We’re both staying here.” He looked up through his long eyelashes to meet Remus’ eyes, face scrunching up in affection with his lips still ghosting over your skin.

“Most certainly,” Remus whispered over the honeyed love that coated his throat and tongue. “We will nurse you right back to health, dovey. You just sleep now.”

[artytaeh]

I literally beg of you write mattheo with mother issues, calling reader mommy when he’s being all cuddly 🙏🏻

listen, mattheo riddle would sprint to the black lake and willingly drown himself in the cold water if someone was to ever, ever know about this, but—

merlin, mattheo really has difficult days sometimes. a bad day is one thing, but when school's stupid assignments accumulate with other frustrations, such as a fistfight, some stupid comment or a quidditch practice that doesn't go as mattheo would like...

fucking hell. mattheo doesn't even have the strength to beat something up to discharge the frustration inside of him.

the thing is, days like these transform the initial sense of anger to frustration, that slowly becomes sadness. melancholy even, if you will.

do things have to be so difficult to him? at times like these, mattheo doesn't know what to do. after all, he didn't have a supportive father, much less a caring mother to cuddle his heavy feelings away.

so he goes to you.

mattheo moves on autopilot, pacing around the halls, heavy steps as he does a beeline to your bedroom. he lacks some education, you see, because it's so rare for him to knock.

when he's like this, mattheo does worse than just open the door. he barges inside, demanding as he holds back those powerful feelings gnawing his heart.

it doesn't take a long time for mattheo to embrace your waist, manhandling you into the position he needs: his head resting on your soft chest, arms around your torso, laying on top of you.

yes, mattheo will nuzzle closer and close his eyes, drowning in the comfort of you; your warmth, your scent, the comfort and safe space you provide him. huh, for someone who lived this long without it, mattheo quickly becomes addicted, and used to this feeling.

... no, he won't say a thing about it. just let him nap a bit while you play with his curly hair; please and thank you very much.

this might be one of the only times you'll hear this man whine. if you dare to go away, nevermind if the dorm is literally on fire— mattheo glares and frowns at you, lacking any bite, only a silent plead for you to stay.

sometimes, if the frustration is still bubbling inside him, things might become... sexual. intimate, even.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

the smooth and comfortable skin of your thighs serves as the most marvelous pillow for mattheo, offering him a half laying, half sitting position as he cuddles close to you.

for the life of him, this is an unspoken secret between you and him.

how would his best mates, hell, how would the entire school react if they knew how fast mattheo riddle, the supposedly tough and dominant slytherin, comes so fast like this?

mattheo hums and moans lowly, his lips curled around your nipple, sucking at the soft skin of your breast. his arm embraces your body, keeping you close— the other hand cups your other breast, much more gentle than the hungry, insatiable way that he makes you moan, his lips making your chest so, so sensitive.

that calloused hand of his squeezes your other breast, however, each time your hand tightens around his aching length— mattheo can't help but become a bit rougher as well.

fuck, mattheo can't think. he can't think, he won't be able to form one single thought at all.

so you guide him.

your voice is like the light of a lighthouse, guiding him through the darkness and intensity of the sea. mattheo swears that your voice never sounded this good, sultry and pleasant to his ears.

the moans he lets out from how your hand pumps at his length are sinful. do you have to be so cruel? no, you're being kind— taking care of him so, so well. your hand moves torturously, up and down, feeling how he throbs around those fingers that make his hips buck.

please praise him for doing so well. for once, mattheo doesn't complain or feels the need to be stubborn— do you want him to look at you? he will. is he supposed to lick or suck? he'll leave hickeys marking his territory, but please praise him. he's doing so good for you.

🗯️ : what do you say when i'm being so good to you? hm?

m : thank you. fuck, thank you so much, please don't stop. thank you, thank you...

the roles are usually reversed; mattheo is the one to dirty talk more during your intimate moments, to tease and provoke you— however, there's some strange kind of comfort and even relaxation during these occurrences, when mattheo riddle lets someone else take care of him, instead of being the one in charge all. the. time.

do not mention this to anyone either; mattheo will deny it with his life. five minutes later, as soon as you're alone, he'll give you a look that silently begs you to ignore him.

mattheo is a pda man. nevermind if you're in the privacy of your dorms, or in a crowded hallway; he likes to be touching you, with one arm wrapped around your shoulders or waist, at least holding hands.

during these times, however, mattheo becomes clingy. unbearably so; he'll hug you close, nuzzle closer, trying to have you as close as possible.

and the thing is, the word almost left his lips, once that he had been way too distracted to hold his tongue.

m : fuck, mm—

🗯️ : hm? what was that, love?

m : ... nothing, nothing. nevermind, and not a word about this.

if mattheo riddle already was embarrassed about breaking his tough guy demeanor, well, it would be a cold day in hell before anyone finds out that he almost called you mommy, this one time.

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm so sorry for taking so long with this drabble </3 i've been doing really slow with my rq; i'm having a really hard week :( but i'm (slowly...) working on all of them! 🗯️

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Dating Miguel O’Hara Would Include…

Warnings: Implied Smut, Domestic Miguel !!!, Possessive Miguel, Protective Miguel, Dominant Miguel, Slight Yandere Miguel (if you squint), Fluff, Mild Angst, Hurt/Comfort, No Pronouns used for Reader Except You’.

Miguel being stoic and militant around his associates, but melting into a massive softie when he gets to see you.

His eyes literally light up when he hears you coming. He has to resist the urge to scoop you up into his arms and cuddle you silly whenever he hears you call his name, your tones music to his ears, his heart thrumming – harpstrings.

Golden retriever boyfriend to the MAX.

He brings you breakfast in bed whenever he’s awake before you – which is often considering his vampiric nature. And he looks so proud of himself when he cooks a good meal, too. Literally just a beaming, teeth-filled, closed-eye smile when you tell him he’s “Done such a good job, Babe !”

Any kind of praise sends him absolutely wild, so use it sparingly. It can either get you out of or into a world of trouble; especially if you're trying to get Miguel hot under the collar.

Miguel’s love language is, simply put, everything.

The adoration that swells in his chest whenever he thinks of you manifests as him throwing himself into your service.

He does anything and everything you ask of him, no matter how extravagant or nominal the request is. And everything you don’t.

He isn’t stingy with his words, either; he tells you how much he loves you whenever you’re alone, often coming up behind you and sliding his arms around your front, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing deeply.

He presses soft, careful kisses into the crook of your neck, making sure to keep his fangs from pinching you, inhaling your warmth, your scent.

“I love you.” His heart drums into your back. His lips capture your skin again. “I love you,” And again. “I live for you.” And again.

He’s lived with a lifetime of regret for not being able to protect those he held dear; he won’t allow you to go without knowing the extent of his adoration for you. Not when he feels he never truly got to show his family – his ghosts – how much he loved them.

On a lighter note, Miguel LOVES having his hair played with; just card your fingers through his locks and he’s as good as incapacitated.

After a rough day, he crawls into bed and lays his head in your lap or on your chest, his body winding down in your soft embrace.

He lowkey moans when you catch his sensitive spot, his brows knotting together, his voice coming out as a rasped whisper.

He knows when you’re purposely trying to get him worked up, though. And he doesn’t stand for it.

“Careful Darling,” he glowers, the phantom sensation of you tugging his hair a half-weight on his senses. He cracks an eye open, his wine irises peaking out beneath heavy lids.

“Or I won’t be so gentle when it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Miguel prefers private displays of affection over public displays of affection; he doesn’t want his subordinates knowing he’s gone soft.

But, there are exceptions to this principle.

Like if Miguel’s feeling particularly hot and desperate, by which point he whisks you away to the bathroom and the two of you aren’t seen for a good hour or so. Usually longer.

The other exception is if he’s feeling jealous or possessive, by which point his sensibilities have vacated his mind and he’s right behind you, his hands on your waist, your shoulders – anywhere he can hold you. Or, he’s filling your mouth with his tongue and your ear with his words if the other party present doesn’t get the hint that you’re taken.

“You’re mine,” he rasps, his breath hot, prickling your skin, the tips of his fang drawing goosebumps. Miguel’s eyes shine an ocean red, dark and unknown. He has you caged, arms encompassing you entirely.

“And I’ll never let anyone take you from me.”

Speaking of; Miguel is incredibly possessive.

Years of rumination and a history of scattered failures make for a very territorial man. And it shows.

He keeps his hands on you whenever you’re together or in the presence of someone he thinks can steal you from him; someone better than him.

He stares down at them until they fumble or leave; whichever prevails first. After which point, when you’re alone, he turns you round to look at him and just stares at you like 🥺.

The epitome of ‘Babe you pushed my leg off you while you were asleep; do you still love me ???’

You have to reassure him when things like this occur. Take him by the face and hold him gently in your hands; press a soft kiss to his lips and call him your “One and only,”

Doing so is a one-way ticket to a very long night.

Possessive, heartfelt, grasping, gasping love-making.

Miguel can’t stop until your bottom half is numb and the only thing you’re capable of thinking and saying is his name.

Of course, he rewards you for your endurance after the fact.

Aftercare king right here <333

Treats you like you’re glass; he runs you a bath, brings you your favourite drink and changes the bedsheets.

And, when you’re fast asleep and curled up into his chest, his heart flutters, and, for the first time in his life, he feels that he has stability. Pure, unconditional, everlasting love.

And he’ll sooner dismantle the multiverse himself than let anyone or anything take that from him.

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[miclipse]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ princess & the fish.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

synopsis: rafayel’s dream of turning into a human had miraculously come true! but things didn't turn out like he had expected…

word count: 3.7k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally, but he turns into a human), reader is a princess, nicknames used (princess, your highness), rafayel struggling to walk with legs, rafayel hates toes, very slight and brief abysswalker! rafayel reference (just one line), reader finds rafayel half-naked in her room, fluff

dt: everyone that wanted fishy rafayel (aka fifi) to turn into a human + the person in my asks asking if i was continuing this.

note: reupload because apparently my post didn’t show up in the tags :( but unfortunately that means the ask got deleted as well, sorry anon :(

likes reblogs & comments appreciated! <3

this all had to be a dream, right?

…actually, no. this was most definitely a nightmare, if anything.

because why else would rafayel be standing naked in your bedroom, the fishtank he once called his home now nothing but shattered glass scattered across your study table?

there was no logical explanation for this, rafayel thought to himself while struggling to manoeuvre around your room with his new pair of human appendages.

he spent at least ten minutes stumbling over his toes while trying to make his way to your bathroom door.

…seriously, why did humans even have a need for toes? and ten of them, at that!

when rafayel had finally, finally made it to the bathroom entrance, he spent another five minutes figuring out the mechanism behind how to open it.

turns out, the grand secret behind it was that he had to push the door, not pull.

once in the bathroom, rafayel was tempted to fill up your bathtub with water and just jump in for a swim, but he figured seeing a naked man with a towel wrapped around his waist would be a little less intense for you than having to see a fully naked stranger swimming around in your tub.

thus, rafayel opted to grab a spare towel from the cabinet just under the sink, carelessly tying it around his waist to hide his indecency before you came back from your royal duties.

rafayel spent yet another ten minutes trying to walk out of your bathroom (he nearly slipped at least twice but he refuses to talk about it) and towards the nearest furniture he could sit on without it breaking due to his new physique.

looking around your bedroom to ensure that there were no maids around to witness this phenomenon, rafayel plopped himself on the edge of your soft mattress.

resting his head on his fist, his eyebrows furrowed in the process.

this was not how he imagined things to go at all.

in all honesty, rafayel was pretty satisfied living life as your pet fish. though there were many pros and cons that came along with his new domestic life, he wouldn't have wished for things to be any different than how it was.

of course, there were times when rafayel would ponder to himself how life would be for him if he were to turn into a human and be able to properly talk with you.

but out of all the exaggerated and cliche scenarios rafayel had fantasized about during his free time (which was whenever you were not around), being naked with only a fluffy white towel tied around his waist as he dreadfully waited for you to return was definitely not one of them.

well, it probably was. but it was not at the top of his list, that was for sure.

but here came the real question—

how did he even turn into a human? there was no logical or scientific reason behind how all of this was possible. rafayel had never heard others talk about stories of fishes turning into humans either.

well, unless you included ariel from that little mermaid movie. but ariel was a mermaid, so it really was not exactly the same as rafayel’s current predicament.

and besides, rafayel didn’t think he knew or angered any shady sea witches back when he lived in the waters.

there was nothing he could really do at the moment. as much as rafayel wanted to sneak to the royal library to dig out some sacred books in order to do some research about his condition, he dared not imagine the consequences he would have to face if anyone caught him sneaking out of the princess’s private chambers with only a skimpy bath towel covering him from waist-down.

just the image of him getting beheaded by the royal guards was enough to convince rafayel not to leave your private chambers, knowing it was the safest place for him to be in right now.

so his only option now was to wait for his princess to return to her chambers so that he could try to explain the situation to you in hopes that your naive little brain could understand and help him out.

he was your beloved fish afterall, so surely you would find a way to help him, right?

an ear-piercing scream echoed loudly through the room.

rafayel's eyes snapped open in panic and immediate dread, sitting up from the bed frantically only to be met with a big white thing smacking his face.

as he made a clumsy attempt to back away from the bed and nearly tripping over his newly grown toes (human toes be damned), rafayel’s eyes wandered to the big white thing that was thrown at him.

it was your polar bear plushie, he noted.

rafayel then turned to look at the door, only to see you standing there looking like a frightened kitten, now holding a thick, hard-cover book ready to launch at him once more.

it was only then rafayel realised that he had accidentally fallen asleep in your bed while waiting for you to come back.

this was not good. not good at all.

“who… who are you?!” you shrieked out, preparing yourself to throw the book in his face within the next five seconds if he didn't respond.

“me? i’m…” without even realizing it, rafayel darted his eyes to look at your study table as he fell silent, his lips pursing together.

you gave him a look of skepticism before slowly following his gaze. the man watched as you let out a horrified gasp when you saw that your fishtank was nothing but shattered glass on the table.

“fifi!”

running to your study table, you stared at what once used to be fifi's home for the past three months, now nothing but broken shards scattered all across the table.

“you! what have you done to my fifi?”

rafayel backed up into the corner of the room when you pointed an accusatory finger at him, feeling very wronged by your assumption.

what, did you think he ate your fish or something?

“woah!”

to prevent his nose from breaking tonight, rafayel quickly moved his head to the side to narrowly dodge the book in your hands that came flying towards his face.

that was a close one.

“let's use words, shall we?”

before you had a chance to frantically look around your bedroom for a new deadly weapon to fling at rafayel's handsome face, he had to think of something believable, and fast.

“i’m asking you one last time, where. is. my. fish?”

your eyes narrowed and your eyebrows furrowed as you glared at rafayel as an attempt to threaten him.

rafayel doesn't really have the heart to tell you that your glare was nothing more than a little fly trying to square up to a frog.

not the best comparison, but you get it.

“well, if you're looking for fifi, i’m right here.” rafayel responded as nonchalantly as he could, desperately trying to hold back his laughter.

you shot him an incredulous look, obviously doubtful with his claim of being your pet fish. rafayel felt absolutely scrutinized under your gaze while you looked at him up and down.

“do you think i’m five?”

“well, given how you spend your nights talking to a fish like it's your newfound soulmate, i wouldn't doubt it.”

man, rafayel wished he could describe how proud he felt when he saw your jaw slacken and you gawk at him with wide eyes.

it felt so good finally being able to talk back to you, and in a way that you understood him too. rafayel picks this over ‘glub! glub! glub!’ anyday.

you looked around the room cautiously, before your eyes landed back on rafayel.

no one really knew that you spent your nights telling your baby fishy little bedtime stories.

…not unless this man in your room was fifi himself. it was a secret solely kept between you and fifi.

…still, it wouldn't hurt to double check, right?

“oh yeah? tell me something about fifi then.” you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest. you still felt doubtful over this whole situation. “anything at all.”

i mean, it wasn't everyday that you got to see your fish turn into a grown man (that was also naked, you observed), now a head taller than you.

rafayel smirked at your demand. oh boy, where should he start? he had many, many juicy secrets that he could spill to you. ones that he knew were only shared between you and your beloved fishy (him) in these very four walls.

but he was determined to embarrass the hell out of you, so he was thinking what exactly was the most embarrassing moment you've ever told him.

maybe he should start with that one time you started weeping your eyes out in front of his tank because you thought he was sick and about to die since he wasn't eating the kibbles you poured into his tank? (you were overfeeding him).

or perhaps that one time you told him you accidentally broke your mom's jewellery box while trying on her earrings and blamed it all on the maid instead?

oh. he couldn't forget the countless amounts of times you fell asleep sprawled over the study table, your hair looking as neat as a bird’s nest, drool escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping onto the sleeve of your nightgown as you snored the night away.

but the most memorable one of them all was…

“...remember that time when you tried to cut a piece of strawberry cake and dump it into my tank?” rafayel questioned, a smirk appearing on his lips as his eyebrow quirked upwards, anticipating the kind of reaction you’d give.

the way your eyes widened in horror and the tips of your ears started to tint in a dark red hue was enough for rafayel to conclude that he had won this round.

“only fifi would know that…” you mumbled out in utter disbelief. was this man standing in front of you really your pet fish of three months?

“exactly.” rafayel puffed out his chest proudly at your words. “but if you’re not convinced, i can tell you about that time when you tried to bring my fishtank to your bed so you could hug me to sleep—”

oh. not that. you desperately cut rafayel off mid-sentence.

“stop! stop, stop!” your face felt hot, as if you just ran a whole marathon with no breaks in between.

there was an awkward and tense silence lingering in the air, with you looking at your pet fish dead in the eyes.

“s.. so it really is you, fifi…” you managed to mutter out, albeit still in disbelief that your pet fish was now a grown man a head taller than you.

rafayel doesn’t have it in him to break the devastating piece of news to you that his name was actually ‘rafayel’ before you came along.

“affirmative.” fifi— or, rafayel, nodded his head without a beat of hesitation.

you both then proceeded to awkwardly stare at each other without a word, waiting for each other to break the tense silence.

eventually, rafayel was the one that broke the silence.

“so…” he sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling like a fish out of the water (literally and figuratively). “has the shock died down yet?” he asked, hoping you were calm enough to have a proper conversation with him.

you blinked and glanced back at the broken fish tank a couple of times to make sure that rafayel was not some kind of crazy hallucination stemming from your lack of sleep recently.

“well, not really.”

“good enough for me.” rafayel casually bent down and picked up the weapons you used for your assassination attempt (your books and polar bear plushie), making his way to your study table to put the books back where they belong.

“i know you probably have a lot of questions, your highness,” rafayel’s gentle voice filled the room’s silence once again. “but i, too, don’t have the answers to them. i hope your highness can forgive me.”

he briefly glanced at you from his peripheral vision, a faint and apologetic smile ghosting his lips while he slotted the books back into the shelf.

you were still standing in the middle of the room, your eyes following rafayel’s figure while he was putting back your books. you still had the dumbfounded and surprised look from this whole ordeal.

when rafayel caught sight of you meekly nodding your head in silent agreement to his words, he took it as a sign to continue speaking.

“since you’re free tomorrow, how about your highness help a fishy out to find a way to turn me back?” he asked with a chuckle, making a final stop to your bed and gently placing your polar bear down by the pillows, now reunited with the rest of your fuzzy friends.

“how’d you know i’m—”

oh, that’s right. you told fifi at the start of this week that you had tomorrow to yourself. the realisation that you spent your nights practically telling this man (in his fish form) the a to z’s about your life started to settle in, coupled with embarrassment.

“oh.. right..” the corners of your lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile, trying to keep your cool despite the absurd situation unfolding before your very eyes.

“also, do you mind if i borrow a hoodie of yours or something? walking around with only a skimpy towel around my waist is a little uncomfortable.”

“ack!”

before you could protest, rafayel strutted towards your wardrobe and began rummaging through it like a stray mouse in search of a slab of cheese.

attempting to recollect your composure, you stammered out a remark in hopes to gain back some sort of control.

“h..hey! is this how you act in someone else’s bedchamber?”

rafayel halted his scavenger hunt for a brief moment.

“… i’ll remember for next time.”

…and he’s back to digging through your wardrobe for one of your oversized hoodies.

in the end, rafayel settled with one of your gray hoodies coupled with a pair of sweatpants he miraculously could fit in.

“what’s this?”

a look of confusion washed over his face as the fish stepped out of your bathroom, finally properly clothed.

his eyes were glued to the unfamiliar scene before him. a thick woven quilt was spread across the carpeted floor not far away from your bedframe, accompanied by two pillows and a neatly folded but thin blanket sitting on top of it.

“your new bed for the night.”

your response was as casual as inviting a friend over for a sleepover.

you gave his new bed a few soft pats, a gesture to coax him over, before making your way back to your own cozy haven.

“since you don’t fit in a fish tank anymore, i figured we have to come up with an alternative.”

rafayel watched as you tucked yourself into bed and fluffed up your pillows, getting ready to drift to dreamscape anytime from this point forward.

“yeah, well what if your maids see me?” his voice was full of skepticism as he approached his new bed, lifting up the blanket to fit into the warm cocoon.

“then i can tell them that you’re fifi.”

one of rafayel’s eyebrows quirked up in doubt and a hint of amusement.

“and will they buy it?”

“no.”

“…”

well, that was reassuring.

rafayel’s head was resting against the pillows now, completely unimpressed with your response while also trying to get used to sleeping outside of the water.

“well, but that’s something we’ll both deal with tomorrow.” you laughed nervously, leaning back against the plush pillows and turning your body so that you were laying on your side; facing rafayel with a faint smile ghosting your lips.

staring into your eyes like this made rafayel’s heart swell in an odd way. he didn’t know exactly how to put it to words, but the atmosphere of your bedroom felt dangerously intimate right now.

in fact, way too intimate for an owner and her pet fish to be having.

rafayel was no fool— he could tell how you seemed to be holding back more now that he had taken the form of a human. how the gaze you directed towards him still held a hint of love and affection amidst all of your other mixed emotions. you looked at him as if nothing had changed between the two of you, like he was still that tiny fish you had brought back home (kidnapped) three months ago.

“yeah… we should get some rest. we’ll be ransacking our brains a lot tomorrow.” rafayel agreed with a nod of his head, breaking eye contact first by turning his head to look up at the ceiling, trying to get rid of the dangerously growing intimacy dancing between the two of you.

his arm slid beneath his head to get into a more comfortable position for himself, still in disbelief that he was actually a human now.

he tried. keyword, tried to ignore the lingering feeling of not being able to bury his little fishy body in his favourite coral reef to fall asleep, and instead having to settle with sleeping on the cold hard ground with a paper-thin blanket that barely reached to the tip of his toes.

but in the end, the thought still greatly bothered him.

“tell me a bedtime story.”

…the words flew out of his mouth before rafayel could even comprehend what he was saying.

“i beg your pardon?” your expression morphed into one of astonishment.

“what? don’t you always go on and on about your day in front of my fishtank?” rafayel scoffed, turning his head back to face you. he had been kept awake against his will, forced to listen to your endless ramblings ever since you first kidnapped him.

he had grown so accustomed to your excited life updates that it was part of his daily routine now. rafayel always relied on your storytelling to help him get sleepy and prepare for bedtime, and he definitely wasn’t going to let this routine stop tonight just because he had grown a pair of legs out of thin air.

“… how about you tell me a bedtime story this time, fifi?”

your soft voice almost made rafayel wonder if he misheard what you had just said.

“hah, me? as if i have any tales that would fascinate you.” rafayel was quick to dismiss the idea of telling you a story.

one, bedtime storytelling was your thing. it always has been, and it always will be. as a fish, rafayel was habituated to just listening. i mean, he was a fish, there wasn’t much he could say to you in the first place. asking him for a sudden role reversal to play as the storyteller was beyond his expertise and comfort zone.

and two, his life out in the seas wasn’t as interesting or fascinating as whatever you were expecting.

or in other words, rafayel had no stories to tell in the first place.

“oh come on, i’m sure there’s some interesting stories about your life before you started living here.” you continued to persuade him further, trying to give him a metaphorical nudge to get him to open up.

rafayel really couldn’t resist when you talked to him in that soft and persuasive tone. you might as well grow a pair of fins and live in the ocean as a siren with how easily you allured him to obey your words.

“fine, fine, let me think of something,” the fish grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing together as he dug through his memories for anything worth mentioning to you.

entertaining a princess was hard work— rafayel was finally starting to understand the pressure of being in the presence of a princess like yourself. it was like there was an invisible expectation for him to uphold. one that was unspoken, but still anticipated in a way.

“does me being chased by an octopus sound entertaining enough for you, your highness?”

the way your smile grew, and your eyes held a hint of curiosity made rafayel let out a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding.

so that was how he began telling you about the instance where he was chased by an octopus back when he was still adventuring around in the stray waters.

rafayel’s storytelling skills wasn’t top tiered as compared to yours. his story began awkward, his tone unnatural. this was not his forte, so he was basically a fish out of the water (once again, literally and figuratively).

however, the sounds of your soft giggles, hums of acknowledgement and occasional small nods of your head served to be the main catalyst for him to improve as the story progressed.

by the time the story reached its climax, he sounded more confident and sure of himself. he also was more natural when speaking and somehow, without even realising it, managed to lull you to dreamscape.

“...seriously? just as i was at the good part too.” rafayel muttered, feigning mild irritation when he saw that your eyes were closed, facial features relaxed, along with your breathing deep and slow.

rafayel let out a defeated sigh, lightly shaking his head before he turned his head to face back towards the ceiling again.

he finally understood how you always managed to fall asleep so quickly after telling him about your day— talking in such an excessive manner was… tiring. and now, he was feeling the growing fatigue about to consume him too.

he briefly snuck a glance at your sleeping form through his peripheral vision, the corners of his lips gently tugging upwards into a smile.

rafayel’s mind was tired, but his heart was filled to the brim with nothing but affection. affection that you had been showering him with for the past three months.

��no matter what form i take, you’ll still love me just the same, huh?”

he wasn't expecting an answer. he didn't need your verbal response to confirm his thoughts in the first place. the facts were as clear as day before his very eyes.

his vision was getting blurry, his breathing slowing down and his eyes feeling heavier with each blink.

rafayel vaguely remembered letting out one final whisper before everything fell to the darkness.

“…at least now i can finally tell you that i love you too, princess.”

all rights reserved © miclipse 2024. do not repost, plagiarize, copy, modify or translate my works on any platforms.

[kaitawrites]

Silent Whispers (2)

Pairing: "Wolverine" Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader

word count: 1.1k Warnings: smut, creampie, angst, Notes: This is 18+ as there are sexual themes within the story. This is a continuation of this post Silent Whispers. I hope you enjoy it all!

Taglist: @amelia262006 @clairealeehelsing @arrowenchantress @marcybug @cosmicmagicgirl @killerwendigo

“Logan, you can't just mope and drink all day,” Ororo exclaims. Watching Logan continue to sip on his cup of whiskey, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut. He continues to ignore Ororo as he tries to reason with him. “You know she wouldn’t want this.” Logan harshly slams the glass onto the table, his eyes opening to glare daggers at Ororo. “Shut the fuck up” He mutters. 

It’s been 5 months and Logan didn’t get a lick of sleep. Up looking for you and trying to find you. He already ran to Charles to ask on your whereabouts. When he told him that you were no where to be found. He just couldn’t understand how you disappeared the way you did. He puts his face into his hands. “I don’t know what else to do. I am nothing without her.” Ororo shakes her head at him. “We will keep looking for her. We will let you know if anything comes up.” With that Ororo leaves Logan in the kitchen alone. 

All Logan can think about is you. He closes his eyes and thats where he could hear your voice. “How would you feel about settling down, lo?” Logan was at first shocked with the question. He rubs his hands on your left shoulder, caressing and massaging. “I mean I haven’t thought about that really.” You move your whole body to face Logan. Your beautiful eyes behind your long lashes. “You never thought of us settling down? Marriage? A baby?” Logan’s eyes run along your facial features. “We’re mutants. How would we be able to settle down? You seen what happened to Magneto and his family.” He watches your delicate features scrunch up a bit into a grimace. “Yea, you’re right. I think I’m going to get some rest. Good night.” You turn away from him, facing the opposite direction from him in the bed. 

That’s all he’s been thinking about. Living the good long life with you. But he was afraid. Afraid of losing you like he lost the others. Afraid someone will take you from him. Unknowingly pushing you away due to his insecurity. Now look at him. Lost you just as he feared. He clenches his fists in frustration. He couldn’t believe he just let you go like that. Pushing you so far away that you literally run right out his life. Jumping out the window and all. 

He can still remember your touch. The way you would give him both pleasure and comfort. The strong warmth that comes off your body that wrapped around his entire being. The way your kisses lead down his neck and to his chest. He held your chin so he could connect a kiss. You left him breathless, his eyes showing how mesmerized he was by you. “You ready?” A smirk was on your lips as you look down at his exposed chest and give him a little glance. 

He gives a slight nod. You trail down his body with your fingers. With elegance and swiftness, his pants are thrown on the ground. Your hands delicately holds him, trailing kisses up and down his cock. You hear the hitch in Logan’s breath and his hands grip onto the sheets once you finally enter it into your mouth. Your rhythm was slow and sensual knowing this is the exact opposite of what Logan wants. The evidence is in the way his hips buck up into your mouth. He doesn’t make a move on your hair or head because last time that happened, he gave you a new hair cut. 

“Fuck, I can’t take it anymore.” He grabs you up before you could say anything. Flipping everything around and having you pinned down below him. “You have no idea the effects you got on me, princess .” A big grin was on your lips at his words. “Then show me.” Your lips lock with another. The kiss was filled with hunger, desperation, and love. He rips everything you have on in half. “Try to get away from this.” A sharp gasp escapes your lips as Logan doesn’t give you any warning. 

His pace was slow and deliberate. The same pace you was going at before. You let a whine out as you try to wiggle into the thrusts. “Go faster.” A cocky grin appears on Logan’s lips. “What did you say princess?” You arch your back away from the bed. “Please go faster.” Logan doesn’t waste not even a second before quickening his pace. Your moans bounce off the wall as you grip onto the sheets. Logan’s eyes never leave your body. Looking over all your features as if he wants to have this memory ingrained in his brain. His watching your breast bounce against your chest, the way your lips were slightly agape as moans left your lips. “I’m so close,” You whisper, your hands moving to grip onto Logan’s arms. Your nails digging into his flesh, the slight stinging adding onto the pleasure. You finish with a wail. It didn’t take long for Logan as you squeezed him so tight. His breath hitches as his climax was close. “I’m gonna fill you up,” A desperate whine escapes your lips. 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Huh, I can’t hear you.” You nod your head with a quickness. Nails digging deeper into his skin, a hiss escaping his lips. A low growl leaves his lips as he empties himself in you, thick ropes of cum leaking out of you. He collapsed next to you. ‘I’m glad you both are enjoying yourselves on your day off. But it would be nice if you both kept it down.’ Charles voice is heard in the both of your heads. You guys both staring at each other in horror at the sound before erupting into laughter. 

Two years had went by and there is still no sign of you. At this point, Logan had become more bitter and harsh. The wrinkles on his face began to deepen on his face. His eyes were colder and darker than before. He would drink himself half to death if he could. He sat at the local bar, lips on another glass of whiskey. Everything just phased passed him, nothing would last. Nothing ever lasts but him. 

Ororo enters the bar with urgency, her legs walking quickly to Logan. She knew where he would be since she was the only one who had personally checked on Logan past few months. Logan always went to the same spot as always. He never left the seat. “We found her, Logan.” At first, the words didn’t register. He continued to drink the rest of the bitter liquid. Ororo places a hand on his shoulder. She whispers your name. “We found her.” It finally clicked and with a quickness, he was standing up out of his chair. “Where.” Is the only thing that comes out of his mouth. 

Marvel Masterlist

Silent whispers Masterlist

[acourtofpenandpaper]

The Bat Boys react to your new set of lingerie (ACOTAR Imagine)

Tags: Acotar bat boys x Reader, spicy tension, 18+, imagine, reactions

Masterlist Masterlist Mobile

Rhysand:

"What did I do to deserve this wonderful sight in front of me?"

"I don't know, being the best High Lord that I ever had the pleasure to meet?" You ask cheekily, climbing onto his lap. Immediately, his hands meet the sides of your hips and squeeze your sensitive skin.

"That doesn't mean anything, given that you only met the High Lord of the Night Court", he pouts.

"It means something to me. Also, I am sure that no other High Lord is as good-looking like yourself", you say and caress his cheek with your thumb, resulting in a low rumble from his throat.

His eyes pierce through you as he takes in the delicate design of the night-blue bralette you are wearing.

Slowly, you reach down to his ear and whisper: "The panties have an opening...for fun activities. Want to try it out?"

In an instant, you feel him go hard under you but you have no time to assess his reaction. You squeak as he lifts you up and places you against the pillows of the large bed you share.

"You know my answer to this question", he says as he pulls his dress shirt over his head.

Cassian:

His eyes go wide as you enter your living room in the small apartment in Velaris and his smile goes even wider. Cassian sits upright and lets his gaze roam over your body.

Your body that was covered by as little fabric as possible. The no cup bra push up your tits fabulously. You had discovered this set while out shopping with Mor and you went back to the store to try it on alone.

So yeah, you enjoy Cassian obviously going feral about this new set because it cost you a half of week's work. But in the end, given his reaction, it was worth it.

"What do you say?" You croon and stop right in front of him.

Your question is entirely rhetorical because you are able to read his thoughts by just looking him in the eyes. They are painted by pure lust.

Without breaking eye contact with you, his hands find the zipper of his pants and he pulls them down, letting free his already hard cock.

"Down on your knees for me." He growls.

His wish is your command, you think as you lower your mouth on him.

Azriel:

"Don't look! It's a surprise!" You shout from the bathroom.

But who are you kidding, given that your boyfriend is a spymaster. His job is literally being not surprised by anthing. Ever.

Trying to clasp the bra, you smile to yourself. Calling Azriel your boyfriend still has a nice ring to it. And you are sure that you will never get tired of it.

"I am not looking, just laying down on the bed like you told me to. I swear." He calls from the other room.

Finally, you adjust the straps from the crimson bra with matching panties and smile to your mirror image. Somehow, you get nervous now and you don't really get why.

Azriel loved you, he has previously said so. No need to be nervous.

"Is everything okay?"

You take a deep breath and emerge from the bathroom, just to be met with Azriel's worried gaze. But seeing you standing in the doorway, his eyes immediately soften.

"Oh", he murmurs.

Your hands twitch to the delicate fabric of your panties. "Do you not like it?"

His eyes light up and he quickly shakes his head. "No, it's just when I saw the set in the bag before..."

"So you saw it before! I should have known!" You exclaim and he laughs in response, catching your hand and pulling you onto his lap. His hands graze your hips.

"Yes, I caught a glimpse of it earlier. You should find better hiding spots in the closet."

You give him a stern look but smile at the same time. It is all in good fun. He always catches your surprises.

"But if you would let me finish my sentence...I would have said that I saw it but my imagination could never have predicted how utterly beautiful you look in this."

And just like that, all your doubts vanish as he catches your mouth with his.

Let me know if you have requests for other reactions for the bat boys (or other Acotar and BG3 characters!). This was fun:)

[mixingandmelting]

Can you please write Damian and Jon innocently crushing on reader who has same powers as scarlet witch? Batman found her and decided to join her in batfam. When he introduced her to Jon and Damian (as they are same age) they started to crush on her.

On day one, they didn’t expect much where Damian was expressing his typical criticisms of what his father possibly saw in you while Jon, having inherited the “cheerful and friendly” gene of the Kents, was trying to make small talk with you. Despite being meek and shy, you had blown them away when you revealed your current skills in magic. The Supersons were rendered speechless from the mini show-and-tell where you showed your various skills in witchcraft. It was as if they weren’t on-guard already having Batman fill them in prior about your powers and your potential of becoming a Nexus being. Since then, their feelings had developed overtime, from best friends to realizing they had a crush on you. 

Just because they have a crush, though, on you doesn't mean everything changed. Simply take everything the two boys already had and ramp it up ten-fold. They’re constantly quipping and jabbing at each other, nudging, punching, and kicking literally right behind your back when the three of you are hanging out and walking. It also happens during missions, where it had jeopardized missions time to time as they vie for your attention; Damian displaying his intellects and tech while Jon showcases his powers as a half- Krpytonian. When you’re out of ear shot or when the duo are the only ones for the day, most of the time is spent with one of them trying to one-up the other. Jon brags how he’s able to physically stay next to you the most with his abilities that defies common-sense and the law of gravity. Damian gloats he’s the one you spend the most time with considering the fact you’re living with him at the manor. 

Ironically, having the same crush allows them to be completely in-sync. They never once talked, not even sharing a single word, when it comes to being overprotective. They’re already coordinating on-spot when they feel you and your well-being is being threatened. Damian in-charge of being the guard dog at home, where he doesn’t allow Dick, Jason, or Tim to get close to you, nonetheless sit next to you. He’s heard the rumors and read the files on Dick and Jason’s infamous rendez-vous with multiple ladies. As for Tim, it’s simply from him disliking the other. When it’s the three of you, it’s Jon’s job to distract you while Damian gets to work and makes anyone who seems suspicious to back-off through all means without letting you notice. Jon would randomly point at something so you wouldn’t see the glare and words Damian mouths to the offending party as both worked to make sure they don’t get any more rivals.  

During the one time when Batman was brainstorming with Superman who to call to help you hone your skills, they didn’t notice their sons walking past them and slowly scan the lists of names they had written so far. The world’s finest had faced many threats before but they have never felt so much fear and eeriness when the boys gave their blood-related fathers a look after loud squeaking echoes in the Batcave from the force exerted on the red marker used to draw a large X over John Constantine’s name. Little did the two men knew at that moment they were to be merely the first victims when out of nowhere, their sons appeared at the Watchtower. Forget about scolding them for eavesdropping on the Justice League’s conversation, the two vigilantes along with Nightwing, who had to get shaken out of his state of shock, were focused on stopping their respective child from further scaring the Flash into drilling through the floor from vibrating on the same spot. And it was all over the joke of his son Jai to become a vigilante pair with you just like Beast Boy and Raven. 

[eetherealgoddess]

can you one with mikey where he is deeply in love with reader but she is oblivious and one night his dark impulses take control of him and he fucks he in her sleep??? love your content btww

thank you!! hope this turned out the way you wanted!! <3

ꨄTemptationꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Mikey Au

❦You didn’t know how tempting you were to those dark eyes❦

Sano Manjiro x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Temptation

The moonlight gleams through the cracked curtains, shining over the bed as a figure lies underneath the white comforter. You slumber, snug and warm as you lie on your stomach, one leg lifted as well as both of your arms though with bent elbows. Your other leg is planted straight down as your cheek meets the pillow. Light snoring echoed throughout the room as well as steady breathy. You were oblivious to the eyes gazing over your limp frame. He’s kneeled on the floor as his head lies on top of the arms that are crossed on the mattress in front of your face. His blonde strands hovering over his face, disheveled from his lack of care considering his sleepless nights.

Ever since he found a way to break into your room despite you still living at home, he hasn’t been able to keep himself away. He likes to visit you at night. It helps with easing the dark thoughts he succumbs to when he tries to fall asleep. His past haunts him, entrapping his mind with nothing but dark whispers of various impulses. The intrusive thoughts sneak up on him as a snake would before snapping the venom in their prey, trailed by the shadows of darkness looming over his back and reminding him that all he is meant to experience is suffering.

Ironically, sneaking into your room at night gives him a sense of normality. He can’t help but to live in the moment once you’re in the picture. A sane person wouldn’t think twice of you, having accidentally bumped into one another which resulted in you apologizing before running off. It didn’t make sense why he decided to follow you the rest of the day or command one of his gang members to search for more information about you. It doesn’t make sense why there isn’t a day he goes without thinking of you.

Maybe it was the sense of normalcy or distraction from his inner world. Maybe it was the qualities you had as a person that he found interesting after looking into you. The fact is that he is mesmerized by you. It’s been months since you first met, the accidental shove forever leaving a ghostly tingling sensation on his arm. He sits up for a moment, resting his elbows against the bed as both of his hands tangle through his hair, holding up his head as he eyes you with a half lidded gaze.

After a moment he stood up before slowly pulling the cover back, deciding to see more of you to get his fill. He gazed at your body that only consisted of a t-shirt and shorts. He loved to see the fabric of your bottoms wrapped tightly around your curves which is why his favorite nights are when you have them on.

He figured out that your sleeping habits vary. Sometimes he’d get there and you were in the middle of changing, scrolling through your phone, or… sometimes even catching you in the middle of a session with your sex toy. The tree next to your window and the space in your walk-in closet as well as the placement of your bed from across made those specific nights a lot easier to observe.

He uses a hand to caress your back gently before slightly lifting your shirt to reveal the skin on your lower back. His palm rubbed along the crease in which your derrière and back meet, squeezing your side before continuing his strokes, staring at your face cautiously. He bit his lip as he squeezed you once more, firmly as he watched your nose scrunch. He released your skin as he felt a tightness form in his pants.

It wasn’t his first time gaining an erection simply from gazing or touching you. In fact, there have been times he had rubbed his tense cock in your closet as you were watching porn, both of you orgasming together as he edged himself until you were ready for release. He’s used your clothes as towels and stole them. He’s also jerked off sitting right in front of you as you sleep on the bed, imagining all the different ways he can have his way with you.

The way your legs tense when the toy hits that spot that sends you into convulsion, your moans filling the air as well as the curses as you grind out your orgasm. Sometimes you’ll even repeat your sessions back to back, in search of the relief he wants to provide for you. He palmed his bulge as he reminisced those favorable moments. He looks down and gazes at his own hard on, his hair hovering over his face with his lips slightly parted as a red hue forms on his cheeks.

“Shit.” He whispered, feeling the overwhelming urge to climb on top of you. He just wanted to take a look at your wet pussy again. Leaning over to where he uses a hand to slide the leg nearest to open to gain a better viewpoint of your covered vagina. The tight shorts caused an imprint to outline the frame of your center. He glanced at you before gently connecting his fingers with your pussy, rubbing over the slit. He watched you as his middle finger moved to where your clit is hidden under the shorts, applying a still pressure to test the waters. Your hips twitched as you slightly readjusted but your eyelids stayed shut.

His fingers slid until he reached in between your ass cheeks, grazing over your covered anus before removing his hand all together. His torso bends over, crawling until he climbs over your legs. His hands connect with your shorts before he slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked bottom half as he tossed them to the side. He scoots to a better position over your legs and cupped both of your butt cheeks, squeezing and using his thumbs to caress the skin before spreading your labia with his fingers still planted on your ass.

He glanced at you to see your sleeping figure once more before he released you and shoved a hand into his pants. He lowers the lining of his underwear before pulling his cock from his pants. Deciding to ease some of the tension, he positions himself closer to your ass, using a hand to spread a cheek before pressing his cock in a downward position to where he could feel his head against your warm pussy.

He released a quiet grunt before lowering his torso on yours, basically hugging you as he eased his arms under yours, pressing his hips against you as he held it there. He thought he would have enough self control to not go all the way in since he just needed to feel you. It felt so good to feel your body against his, soft and warm. As time went on it was beginning to feel a little too good. He pressed down his hips before pulling back and repeating the same motion slowly in an attempt to not wake you up. He pants as the feeling becomes too hard to handle.

Deciding to just use the head of his cock, he licks his hand before lathering up his girth and using his fingers to position himself to your already wet vagina. He pushes forward slowly, your labia popping open wider as his tip stretches your hole. He accidentally released a moan as his head dropped, arms slightly shaking as they balanced himself over your figure.

“Oh fuck.” He hissed as he pushed in just a smidge more of a distance than before, stopping himself before he continued. It already feels like your pussy is sucking him in, the walls tightening the part of him already inside of you.

“So warm.” He groaned as he sat up more, breathing heavily with his lips apart as his head fell back. You slightly squirm against him as you attempt to reposition yourself, your leg that was bent moving down to where your feet are parallel. You wince as you take a deep breath before the slumber takes over once more.

He’s had to wait so long for this. He was having a hard time thinking rationally as all he wanted to do was shove his cock inside of you as deep as possible before forcing you to take all his cum. His hands reach the skin of your back under the shirt. His hips twitch back before he pushes back in, only his tip immersed in your walls. He can feel your pussy releasing more juice from the stimulation. Everything felt so hot.

He couldn’t take it anymore, lowering his upper body as he repositioned one of his arms under you and the other hand covering your mouth, lifting your head slightly. Your eyes finally flutter open into a squint, only just coming back to reality as you feel a heavy weight above you as well as a pressure from below.

“Forgive me, Y/n.” Your eyes widen at the low whisper before the hand tightens around your mouth and someone leaves a kiss on the back of your head before you feel a sharp pain in your core, causing a muffled grunt to leave your mouth as Mikey’s hips lock against yours in a swift motion.

He moaned when his hips smacked against your ass. You whimper at the pain as you attempt to push against the bed in an attempt to throw him off of you. You failed miserably, not even being able to move from your position because of his immense strength overpowering you from atop. You couldn’t even turn your head to see who the culprit is forcing themselves upon you. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grunt loud from another hard impact from his thick cock.

“G-get off of me!” You attempt to scream but his hand only muffled your speech. Both of your bodies rock as he gains rhythm, his hair flailing as he grinds against you.

“Shhh.” He nibbles on your ear as he makes an attempt to quiet his own moans, not wanting to risk your parents walking in though if it happened, he wouldn’t have a problem with ridding himself of the inconvenience of their presence.

“M’ gonna find it and make you feel so fucking good, Y/n.” He says in your ear, forcing his fast strokes in deeper as he searches for the spot that has you quivering when he watches. Your nails impale the sheets as your grip tightens, the pain having resided once he found the spot, a moan escaping your lips.

“There it is.” He smirks before pressing his head against yours and closing his eyes. He continuously aimed to kiss your cervix as his head dropped to your neck, his lips connecting with the skin before he thrusts harder, rutting against you as he humps your backside. His cock is suffocated by the warm gummy walls inside of you, your juice lathering him as a natural lube as you reflexively push your ass against him, meeting his thrusts as your nipples harden against the bed.

“Th-this isn’t right!” You try to speak once more, struggling to push yourself off the bed as he adds more weight to your form, cock rubbing along your inner lining as your g-spot is assaulted. “I don’t even know you!”

“The only thing…” he breathes, “…that matters is my lo…” He pants as his eyebrows furrow before the smacking of his hips against your body becomes louder as he brings you both closer to your orgasms, his tip beating hard against your g-spot. You release a loud grunt followed by a moan as your hips move against him desperately.

“Ah fuck, baby this feels so good.” He hissed before his lips fell apart. Lowering his head, he rests it against your shoulder as he fucks into you with firm yet fast strokes. You bite your lip as your eyes shut tight, your hips bucking as you release a desperate moan, a wave of pleasure engulfing your abdomen as you orgasm on the stranger’s thick cock.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” He whispers before his grip on your face and shoulder tighten, his hips rocking as he thrusts out his orgasm. You both pant as you catch your breath, his cock still inside of you before he slowly pulls his hips back causing a grunt to leave you both. You feel him kiss your shoulder and neck as your eyes widen in horror at the realization of your circumstances as he releases your mouth.

“W-who are you?! Y-you j-just…” You try to turn around to get a look of him but he only pressed your head against the pillow.

“When we get to know each other better, I’ll explain. For now, just know that you’re my wifey, okay?” He smiled, ignoring the look of confusion and fear that appeared on your expression.

“I-I don’t even know you! HE-!” He covers your mouth once more and leaned to your ear.

“I don’t want to kill your parents, Y/n. So don’t make me, okay? I’d like to meet your family properly.” Tears stream down your face as he tells you to close your eyes. You comply, shutting them tight as you feel his weight shift before completely disappearing.

“See ya next time.”

tbh i liked the request but idk if i liked how i wrote it

[centrally-unplanned]

The trick on the whole "Israel banning UNRWA" thing is that most militaries - like say the US in Afghanistan for example - directly provision aid. American soldiers would often be handing out food packages themselves, and even if they weren't the aid organizations would be directly contracting with the US government and the Department of Defense. You have a group in the military and the government that is like, okay, how do we feed people, let's hit those targets.

So if Congress decided to ban the United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan in 2006 from operating in the country or whatever, that bill would say like "we hand over its mission to USAID, which has been allocated $2.1 billion dollars in FY-2005 to do X Y Z". It would probably be a dumb move that would create unnecessary friction and cost lives for political bullshit, but that is also life, people dying for political bullshit is a universal constant. It would probably be pretty small bore in the scale of things, like switching over contractors.

That isn't how Israel does things. I might be wrong about this, Israel is deliberately opaque about these things and I just gave this the ol' half hour of googling, I am open to being contradicted here. But my current understanding of net spending by the government of Israel itself on aid to Gaza is...$0. They do not provide aid. They permit aid from other organizations, funded by other countries, to be provided! But they don't take responsibility for the provision; meeting targets, outcomes, etc, none of that is their job. (I am sure it isn't literally zero btw, but I think you get my point)

It is really telling that when you look up pro-Israel statements by say AIPAC on aid, their headlines are:

Israel Facilitates Humanitarian Aid to Gaza as Hamas Continues to Attack

And they criticize the UN because the UN trucks aren't being delivered:

The United Nations and other international agencies are largely responsible for the existing delays in aid deliveries into Gaza. The U.N. has not been able to distribute aid at the rate that Israel is processing it, causing back-ups at the border crossings after Israeli inspections are completed. On March 3, the U.N. received 234 trucks in Gaza but only distributed 131 trucks of aid to civilians in the enclave.

If this was the US military, and the UN was getting aid trucks and failing to send them, we would send more of our own trucks? That we have? Because aid is part of the military operation. But Israel doesn't do that - because it doesn't have any trucks. Because aid isn't part of the military operation.

Which is why the bill banning UNRWA that is being passed does not mention aid provision to Gaza:

The international community has raised alarm over the legislation, which was passed without a plan in place for a humanitarian agency to replace UNRWA.

Again going off news sources here, link for the actual bill is currently down, if I am wrong will correct here, but I think it all tracks. So in the article above, you get statements from the government when people ask about aid, they reply, oh yeah these other aid organizations will fill the gap.

Then you ask the aid organizations themselves and they go, no, we won't fill the gap! We don't have the resources to do that! Which is logical when you realize Israel isn't funding those orgs. They don't know or care about their funding status. Hopefully someone else will figure that out - aid is someone else's problem. Those government remarks are just off the cuff, they aren't a plan.

Which I want to loop back around to the casus belli for the ban - UNRWA having ties to Hamas. That, to me, is one of those "uh duh, and?" things - Hamas is the government of Gaza. UNRWA runs schools there? And medical clinics? You think they do that...without contact with the government? This is just silly, the UN Mission in Afghanistan obviously had connections to the US Government! Government officials, working in both, par for the course.

But, and this is far more important, it is irrelevant. I completely agree that UNRWA has many people who are sympathetic to Hamas in it, because obviously they do. You want to ban it, dumb but okay. You propose a bill outlining the $2 billion dollars and the 5 partnered aid organizations and the 400 IDF trucks that will deliver aid to replace their work, sure. Whatever man, do your small bore politics bullshit.

That is not what they are doing.

Now, Israel has in fact allowed a bunch of aid in Gaza, I don't doubt that like USAID and the non-profit community and the governments of the UK and Japan and so on are gonna pivot funding to a bunch of organizations that will do herculean work stepping up operations and interfacing with the IDF checkpoint system and get aid in. Maybe they will do such a bang-up job that the cost in suffering won't be that high. Israel did give 3 months after all, they aren't the literal worst they could be.

But I do think at a certain point, the line between indifference and malice just ceases to matter. The UNRWA bill isn't some breaking point or big policy shift - it is just a highly revealing moment in the Israeli approach, why the war there has gone the way that it has. And it is, as the kids say, not a good look.

(h/t @loving-n0t-heyting as this was initially a reblog of their post, but they mentioned getting drama in the notes so I split it off; sorry to deny you the precious +1 internet point)

[atlabeth]

price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.                      

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before. 

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it. 

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion. 

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him. 

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet. 

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station. 

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory. 

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling. 

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert. 

“Always.”  

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.” 

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.” 

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own. 

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat. 

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.” 

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they? 

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone. 

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime. 

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought. 

It’s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you. 

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table. 

The Poseidon cabin is empty again. 

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically. 

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate. 

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year. 

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back. 

You should be here. You’re not. 

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?) 

There are some things a person just can’t get over. 

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches. 

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand. 

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things. 

He isn’t ever going to be the same again. 

You should still be alive. 

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick. 

-

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured. 

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?” 

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.” 

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.” 

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?” 

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.” 

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?” 

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything. 

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?” 

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?” 

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.” 

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.” 

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.” 

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.” 

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?” 

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.” 

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.” 

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.” 

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.” 

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.” 

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.” 

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.” 

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?” 

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.” 

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.” 

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.” 

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.” 

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

You were the luckiest girl in the world. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.” 

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured. 

-

The second year isn’t any easier. 

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief. 

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass. 

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care. 

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better. 

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes. 

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you. 

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it. 

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not. 

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke. 

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again. 

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.) 

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul. 

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this. 

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.  

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job. 

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here. 

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.  

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you.    He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid. 

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on. 

And then Kronos appears in his dreams. 

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death. 

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke. 

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston. 

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one. 

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours. 

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods. 

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures. 

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it. 

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it. 

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.  

You always told each other about your nightmares. 

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t. 

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate. 

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about. 

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one. 

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking. 

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got. 

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest. 

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change. 

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact. 

Almost. 

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done. 

…Almost. 

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers. 

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal. 

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head. 

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan. 

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother. 

[riansdiary]

Assume it as a fact + Do not accept waiting + Focus your awareness to what you want 🎀

Dearest Gentle Readers 💎

Rian, yours truly is back with a new epiphany for the law of assumption! If you were ever wondering what the hell I'm doing on my break, I'm just living my life and relaxing. Manifesting left and right. Also a lot of reflecting and thinking deeply about loa and how I can help myself and others to make it easier.

In fact, this just happened today. I thought of these today and I'm so glad I brainstormed about the loa to understand it more and make it easier for myself. It is hella easy, it's only us complicating it because it is truly that simple. I was thinking and finding a way to manifest easier in a relaxing way and to make my mindset better.

Let me break it down to you in three pieces. The things written in the title of this post are basically all I'm doing to use the law of assumption and it has never made sense like this ever before. It made it even easier for me! Let's go!

Oh and yes! I am a huge fan of A Good Girl's Guide to Murder Books and have finished reading the first two books in just four days! Can you believe that? I was hooked! I couldn't put my phone down! Yes, I read the e-book version. I also adore Emma Myers so much! She was the Pip Fitz-Amobi I imagined while I was reading! She's perfect for the role! I watched the first four episodes of the show today and I love how they did almost if not literally the exact same as the book! Anyway, let's get that out of the way now.

This all started this morning when I was eating a snack. The snack was a snack in my country and it's kind of hard to break. It's a big piece, I can't just shove it in my mouth like that. I was trying my best to break it but it just couldn't break. You know what I did? I relaxed and I did this in a second. I assumed that I was very strong and could break this snack easily. All I did was assume it's a fact and believed it. I had this silent confidence as I assumed that. I thought of this once - "I'm so strong I can break this so easily" and that thought came out naturally after I assumed that I'm strong and guess what? I was able to break the snack very easily and effortlessly. I broke that hard piece in half in a freaking second after I assumed and thought that. I then realized that this was the way I used to manifest when I first started learning about the law and I should continue it this way. Starting from that, I started assuming that my desires are a fact, fully believing they're here even without proof and persisting has been a breeze ever since that moment. Every time I manifested in this very simple way, things just materialized way faster so I decided that I will do it this way again which is the best way for me.

This is the meaning of assume:

Assume good things and assume your desires into being. Assume that your desires are facts now. Simply assume something and shift your mindset to the person who is it or has it. All I did was assume that it's a fact that I'm strong. I embodied the version of me who was always strong and can break that hard snack in two in one second.

I literally was trying so hard before and yet nothing happened but as soon as I assumed and shifted my mindset to the me who's strong then I was able to break it so easily.

Now on to the next point.

Don't accept waiting when you're manifesting.

I learned this one from Indigo Detry's video:

Everything I learned is in here and as soon as I implemented this, I never wavered even once. I fully accepted that I have my desires immediately. Do not accept waiting. Do not make manifesting a process because that just makes it longer when it shouldn't be. Decide that it's instant for you. I'm not waiting for my manifestations anymore, they're here now and I'm focusing on them instead of the old story. Because of that, I now feel fulfilled and consider it done.

Now, the last part.

Focus your awareness on what you want.

This is a little bit more non-duality but I feel like it's also true for manifesting. This was taught to me by my friend @starnightlover and it only sinked in today as I brainstormed about how I can stop looking for my desire in the 3d or how to stop focusing on the old story. I'm doing a combo of all three. It goes hand in hand.

I always say this when I'm answering asks about the 3d. What you focus on grows so don't pay attention to what you don't want. Awareness and Attention are our superpowers. Whatever you are aware of and what you focus on is what will manifest. I was thinking about how to stop looking for my desires in the 3d or how to stop thinking of the old story and this fixed these problems for me.

What you focus on manifests so how do you focus on what you want? I thought as I was doing something in the bathroom. I wanted to manifest having Dove Cameron's lips. Her lips are so gorgeous so I started manifesting that today. So I came up with a way to focus on what I want instead.

1. I made myself a vision board of my desires. The photos I used are in 1st person POV and I just included pictures of me having my desires and I made it the background of my phone, that way I will always see it everyday and it reminds me that I have it and it's already done.

2. I stopped expecting or accepting waiting when I'm manifesting. I decided that starting now, there's no waiting or process when I manifest. I immediately get it.

3. I assumed that my desires are facts now. I stopped feeding myself the old story. I stopped feeding the old story with any attention to let it die off. There's no waiting so that means it's already done. I did not care about what the 3d was showing me. I shifted my awareness from me not having Dove Cameron's lips to me actually having it already and I started to only pay attention to my desires. I also stopped wanting and desiring and instead assumed that my desires are facts and instantly here now. I shifted my mindset to be in my ideal reality. I embodied the version of me who had whatever she wanted just by assuming my desires are facts now, rejecting the waiting process, not forcing anything, focusing my awareness to what I want and using my vision board as the proof of my desires being here.

I also implemented my recent post about the devil's snare scene from Harry Potter and I'm always just relaxed now. Because why would I worry about my desires when I have them now? I also stopped forcing myself to feel things which made it be like act as if for me. It wasn't it.

All I do now is just assume, assume my desires are now facts, reject any waiting or process, change my thoughts and shift my awareness and feed my attention to the new story instead. If ever the old story bothers me which is super rare, I just relax, take a deep breath and either see my desire in my head or look at my vision board. I'm also embodying Hermione and using a sub for her so I'm getting the intelligence boost for sure! I'm embodying how Hermione would learn and apply the law of assumption and I've been seeing some benefits from acting like her!

This has been making it really easy for me and I know this will help a lot of people! I'm assuming so!

Assume your desires are now facts, dismiss and don't feed the old story any attention, reject waiting or anything implying a process, simply change your thoughts, focus your awareness on what you want (make yourself aware of what you want), relax and know it is done. Stop wanting and start relaxing and having! You would relax if you have it now.

I'll try and make an example post for this!

[angel-of-the-moons]

Small Surprises Pt. 2

Moon Knight System (Marc, Steven, Jake) x Single Mother!Reader

TW/CW: None! Well, maybe Marc and Jake being shameless flirts and a little innuendo/implied sexy times but nothing is detailed!

A/N: The amount of love I've gotten for the first part just blew my mind. I'm so happy you guys loved it so much! Have this gift for the holidays!

Taglist: @katitakenway @winniethewife @thisismiku @justafandomgvrl @chrishy973 @stardream14 @moonkxit @kult6 @blackqueengold @bellaramseysbitch @kimmib13 @skarrkiie @thespookywookies @becca-rebel38 @capsiclesworldsblog @phantom-wizard @idkimherebutidk @call-me-cherrry @bluesophia @ilovepurple31 @queerponcho @dahehow @peachyrue-777 @thevintagevictorian @lemongirl5910 @howellatme @giulscomix @kinglokisqueen4ever @katitakenway

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

That night, to say you were freaked out to see a nine foot tall bird guy standing in your baby girl's bedroom at almost 9pm was an understatement.

You had immediately grabbed your trusty straw broom and promptly went to beat the shit out of whatever-he-was.

Yeah, you did it mostly because he was a literal god stranger in your daughter's bedroom; but you also were partly venting the frustrations you felt at the things the boys told you Khonshu forced them to do, at times.

And damn, did it feel good. You hadn't snapped like that since you left your ex.

Once Marc recovered enough from dying of laughter at the sight of such a diminutive human wailing on a god with a fucking broom, he grabbed you and convinced you to stop before you had a stroke.

Victoria didn't seem to understand, so the two of you had to explain that Khonshu was a "friend" (In very very loose terms). That's when Marc explained what exactly Khonshu was, and...

To his credit--and despite his reputation--Khonshu was... good with Victoria. Sometimes he would loiter in your flat, and Victoria would practically glue herself to him when the boys weren't around (namely when Steven was working or Jake was busy driving others around in his car) and pester him endlessly about what Egypt was like way back when.

And he literally was a living witness to that history, so she would stare enraptured at him as he would inform her and tell her everything the experts got wrong (you figured he probably got an ego boost to have someone so enthralled in what he had to say, and hanging on his every word).

Despite the things Khonshu had forced the boys to do, despite the things he was capable of, you came to trust him with your precious baby. When you were busy working at your computer or on the phone for your work, Khonshu would keep Victoria occupied, either listening to her chatter like an excitable little squirrel over her toys and games, or she would listen to him tell her stories. You even peeked into her room and saw Khonshu (albeit half-assedly) playing with her toys with her.

You did some research into what the ancient Egyptians believed Khonshu to be, and the whole justice and protection thing checked out, but what surprised you was his association with fertility. On crescent moons it was said that Khonshu blessed, and women could conceive. So maybe him being able to connect with Victoria was in relation to that aspect of his divinity. After all, you can't make a baby without conceiving one first, right?

You had half a mind to ask if, maybe somehow Khonshu had a hand in your pregnancy (or any other god, really) but you decided to let it lie. After all, what's done is done and you had your wonderful daughter to hold and love, what did it matter if a god blessed you to get pregnant in the first place?

The boys didn't like Khonshu being so close to Victoria, fearing that maybe Khonshu was grooming her in some way, perhaps to be a follower, or even a future Moon Knight.

You however, didn't get that feeling from him. Perhaps Victoria's innocence was refreshing to him? Perhaps he merely enjoyed the absolute wonder and curiosity of a child? As long as Khonshu didn't hurt her, you felt at least comfortable with him being around her so much.

If anything, it gave a teeny bit more security to know that in addition to the boys, she had a literal god watching over her.

But the boys on the other hand were incredibly protective (and jealous) of Victoria. Khonshu as well, thankfully knew when to step back and allow the boys their time with her, without his presence. After all, he was sick of arguing with them over simple jobs and targets, and perhaps granting them this sense of normalcy would make them more compliant in the future.

Once Victoria started to call Marc daddy, Jake and Steven were then adamant about getting her to call them a similar title, but unique to themselves.

So, Jake was afterwords known as Apá, and Steven was simply Papa, or rarely "Stevie" (thanks to overhearing Donna call him that.) However, Steven began to like the nickname only when the two of you called him that, because where the two of you used it as a term of endearment, Donna often only used it to irk and annoy him.

Yeah, your newfound family was strange... But you wouldn't trade them for anything. Old bird man included (though you made it pointedly clear he was on very thin ice).

Yeah... Life was strange.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

It had been one whole year since you guys were official. And in February it would be one whole year since Victoria had appointed Marc (and of course Steven and Jake) as daddy.

At some point, you had given the boys your full consent to move in. Or at least mostly. You and Victoria had your own stuff, but when you saw just how much stuff the boys had, Marc sheepishly chuckled and told you they can still help with your bills and afford their flat just fine.

After all, with Steven's income and Jake's, it was relatively easy. Not to mention the money Marc had hidden away in case of emergencies.

But the consecutive days Victoria awoke to find your boys there? Oh, it was like Christmas morning every single time.

Speaking of holidays, learning about the ones that Marc, Steven, and Jake acknowledged was... interesting. (As was Steven's veganism, but that was a whole other tale)

One night, you had just finished sending some spreadsheets to your boss when you decided to call it quits for the night, your eyes exhausted and dry from staring at the screen for too long.

You'd closed your laptop and stood, rubbing your dried eyes while you pushed your chair from the desk. Your fingers ached and your tendons were sore from using them for so long, and you were internally groaning at the time and how dark it had become outside.

But honestly, it all melted away when you walked out of your room to see Marc holding Victoria in his arms, telling her about Hanukkah, and why they were lighting the first candle on the menorah.

He had her small tiny hand wrapped in his as they held the longest candle over the first wick, and Victoria blinked, wide-eyed as the candle flickered to life, the light shining out of your window for all who looked up to see.

You were stealthy enough to snap a few photos and snag a video of Marc having this sweet moment with your daughter, his smile illuminated by the light of the menorah; the corners of his eyes crinkled and his eyes glowing as Victoria asked him this and that, why the candle was shaped funny, why they needed to light eight other candles with the biggest one, why it was celebrated to begin with...

All three men had adapted to her curiosity remarkably quickly. Marc enjoyed teaching her things, doing things with her that he wished his parents did with him after the death of his brother.

Even his father stopped including him in special moments like these after a while. Whenever the menorah was lit, Marc remembered sitting in the pitch blackness of his room, looking out onto the streets below, seeing couples and happy families go about their holiday plans, play, and simply enjoy being around one another.

All the things Marc could no longer enjoy without his mother tainting them with her alcoholism and abuse. His father kept promising to get her help, to make her "better" but he never did.

Marc would always come home from school (or running away for a few hours or days) to the sound of a cracking belt, feeling the welts, the bruises, and even the occasional burns from cigarettes his mother never smoked. No, she wouldn't smoke them recreationally, they were merely another tool to vent her anger and abuse on poor little Marc (and of course Steven and Jake).

And his father still sat by, pretending he didn't hear the snaps, the sound of leather on skin or the crying of his now-only son, and the cruel, hateful words of his wife.

If you buried your head in the sand, you could pretend it wasn't happening at all.

Which is how his poor young mind fractured in the first place...

But no. Marc wouldn't focus on those times, not around Victoria, not with her. Marc vowed that he would be everything he never had as a child, that he would give her his all. Steven and Jake made the same oath; one they took more seriously even than their servitude to Khonshu.

Love could be stronger than fear, if you let it. And your boys were letting it be stronger, for the first time in their lives.

Love and safety.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

"So... You celebrate Christmas but don't celebrate it?" Jake had asked you curiously as he watched you fight to untangle the multi-colored lights you pulled down from the hall closet.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." You say awkwardly, looking at him with a smile on your lips. "I've never attached religious significance to most holidays, honestly. They're just... special days to celebrate for me. And it's a bit more fair to Victoria, because it's hard for her to understand that other people celebrate Christmas or--until recently anyways--Hanukkah."

Jake leaned over, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked down, "Hmmh. So you just celebrate it for the sake of it?"

"Yeah, plus Victoria loves decorating the tree every year." You sigh, reaching up to comb your fingers through his hair, earning a content hum from him.

He'd decided not to grow out a mustache this time, staying clean-shaven for the time being.

He slipped his arms around your waist, his thumbs brushing your stomach idly as he watched you battle with the stubborn cables.

"...I say we toss those damn things and get new ones." He snorted. "Saves the trouble."

"I know, but Victoria loves this colour, and I can't find them anywhere else in stores this late in the season." You sigh.

"C'mon, amor, sit on the couch and I'll help undo them."

"God, what would I do without you guys?" You groan while you turn your head to kiss his cheek.

He'd pulled you around and tipped your head back to capture your lips with his, of course. Jake was a very adamant kisser; he put his lips and tongue into each second of every kiss.

Marc was gentle, content to give a long kiss comprised of the dancing of lips; Steven was a bit more chaste, he was happy to litter your entire face in sweet, soft kisses.

Your lips broke apart and you leaned in to bite his bottom lip for a moment, tugging as you pulled away in reprimand.

"C'mon, you horny devil. I want these undone before she wakes up from her nap."

Jake grinned widely as you twisted free of his hands, sauntering over to the couch with exaggerated sways of your hips.

Jake would have to ensure that Victoria was deep in sleep, tonight, for sure.

Thankfully you got the lights untangled in time for her to jump to her little feet and rush into Jake's lap--even going so far as to dart between your legs just to get to him faster!

You snickered and feigned a broken heart, sequestering yourself to the kitchen to prep lunch in mock-sadness.

You were busy wrapping the hot dogs in the doughy wrap for Victoria's lunch, and you paused your hands as you lined the tray when you heard Jake talk to Victoria; holding her up in his strong hands as he walked her around the tree, letting her wrap it in the pretty yellow lights.

That's when you heard it: he was singing to her.

It was a song you knew intimately by now: La Vida Es Luna. After she'd watched that Puss in Boots movie, she would play it on her tablet on repeat. Thanks to Jake's knowledge, he was slowly teaching her to flawlessly sing it in Spanish, like he was right now.

Their voices conjoined were sweet, even if Victoria was a little tone-deaf at some parts, and your heart throbbed as Jake would laugh with her and gently correct her pronunciations.

Love and joy.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Steven had to work hard to earn a favor from Donna, and one of the other managers, but he'd managed to snag permission to bring Victoria to work with him as an early Christmas/Hanukkah present for her.

She was thrilled. Steven thought she was going to vibrate out of her seat on the bus with excitement.

Even if she knew that he would be working most of the time, and they were both stuck in the gift shop, Victoria was just happy to spend time with Steven and talk about their mutual obsession with ancient Egypt.

Donna at first didn't believe Steven when he told her that he was dating a single mother, she even laughed at him and said she'd get off his back if he produced said child.

And boy, seeing the look of horror and recognition on her face as he came in with a little girl dangling off his arm?

Priceless.

"Papa." Victoria asked Steven as he was stocking the front counter.

"What is it, poppet?" Steven smiled at her.

"Why does 'Shu only got the birdy skull?"

Steven always had to suppress the urge to laugh when she called him that. Khonshu wasn't one for nicknames and oh, did it bring him joy to hear him merely be demoted to "'Shu" in the eyes of a child.

"Cause in my books he's got feathers n stuffs, or sometimes he's got blue skin or somefin'."

"I don't rightly know, m'love." Steven said sweetly, booping her nose. "Maybe he thinks it makes him look cooler? Spooky, certainly."

"Mebbe." She sighed, pouting in thought. "But I 'fink it's just cause he's so old." She replied. "Cause he's older than my mommy and you."

Steven finally couldn't hold it in, and busted out into laughter, having to sit on his haunches and hold his gut as his muscles ached from his fit. Victoria tilted her head at him curiously as his laughter died down into choked gasps and he wiped away a small tear from his cheek.

"Oh, oh I just have to tell your mother that." He sighed, looking at her with a grin.

Victoria tilted her head to the other side, her lips pursing. "But papa, I'm serious."

"I know, love." He chuckled, pulling her close to kiss her forehead. "It's just so funny to hear you compare us to that bloody ol' pigeon."

"But he's not a pigeon!"

Steven snickered again as he went back to work.

It was about thirty minutes later when a group of secondary school students came pouring in from their field trip to the museum.

The girls chattering obnoxiously about some topic or another online, the boys being rambunctious. All the sudden loud noises had Steven wanting to chew his nails off, but he resisted the urge hardcore not to do it. He was succeeding, but didn't need much more effort when he looked over and saw Victoria start to squirm from her little box fort behind the counter, frowning and lip wobbling as the students so callously destroyed the organized shop Steven had painstakingly arranged (with her help, in some parts!) and made such a ruckus.

Steven could see she was close to melting down, by how her little hands reached up, one gripping at her hair and the other smacking her leg as she made little noises.

Steven immediately forgot his own discomfort and knelt down in front of her, pulling her hand gently from where it was fisted in her hair and holding it in his larger one, bringing her in to brush his nose against hers a couple of times as she whimpered.

He smiled gingerly and placed her little headphones on her head (the new ones that had stickers of toys called Squishmallows that Victoria had introduced him to. He had even started his own tiny collection of them because of how soft and adorable they were).

He grabbed her tablet and played her usual list of music. It soothed her somewhat as all sound from outside the muffs were bled out thanks to the tunes, but she was still upset at all the people suddenly being around her like buzzing insects.

As ironic as it was, Steven despised large influxes of people. Before, he was too tired to pay them any mind. After he found out about Marc and Jake and they all arranged a better fronting schedule, Steven was given more time to rest as a result and only became far more aware of how large gatherings made him uncomfortable and twitchy.

But right now Victoria was more important than himself, so he scooped her up and held her against him. He knew he could do his job of ringing up customers with one hand while the other held Victoria to comfort her. After all, his body was fit and strong and she was a tiny little thing.

He wagered he's held boxes of stuffed animals heavier than her, before.

Of course, being an attractive man with such a sweet disposition and adorable little girl on his hip... he had become a blip on the radar of the women and teen girls flitting about the shop.

Apparently having good looks and the outward appearance of a man who loved children was attractive to many.

He was mostly clueless to under-the-radar flirting, but right now two of the girls were being positively shameless in how they hung on his every word.

Their voices started to blur together as they took turns speaking, their teacher (whom talked loudly about her divorce to emphasize the fact she was indeed, single) would cut in, tapping her nails on the counter as she leaned in, smiling with her obnoxiously bright scarlet lipstick and batting her heavy mascara'd eyelashes at him.

However, these girls and women seemed to entirely disregard how uncomfortable Victoria was, or how upset she was as she sniffled and rubbed her face on his soft shirt. All that did was earn sweet coos from them as they noted how "affectionate" she was.

He gritted his teeth, wanting so badly to run away from this awkward conversation with Victoria in tow, but his need for this job kept his feet rooted to the ground. That, and his own bubbling upset that was beginning to simmer within him. He could even feel Jake's consciousness begin to float to the surface to see what was happening.

"So, you must be divorced, right?" The teacher laughed as she shoo'd away the younger girls, wanting to circle this kill for herself.

His brow twitched as he reached up to pat Victoria on her back to soothe her with his free hand. "Well, actually--"

"It must be so hard to handle her on your own!" She sighed, finally taking note of the child's discomfort.

"Did her mom leave her? Because she's special?"

Steven felt his eye twinge a bit, and his jaw clenched. "Well, no. Her mom is--"

"Oh, did she cheat or something? I can't help but notice that little thing on your hip doesn't bear any resemblance to you." She interrupted once more.

"No, Victoria isn't mine. Her mother--"

"So she did cheat?! How horrible!" The woman gasped, drawing her own conclusions as she clutched her imaginary pearls.

"I would never do that to a child! If I was her mother--"

No. Nope. That was it. Her first comment about Victoria was enough to bring his rarely seen anger to the surface, but now she was insulting the both of you. That was enough to make the tips of his ears burn.

All because she wanted to flirt with him? No, his family was off limits in any regard.

"Victoria isn't "special" as you mean her to be. She's autistic, like me." Steven huffed, frowning deeply.

The woman clapped her obnoxiously made-up lips shut as Steven continued.

"And Victoria doesn't look like me because she isn't mine. Biologically." He informed, adjusting his hold on her as she continued to rub her face on him.

"Victoria's father abandoned her and her mother before she was born. I am currently dating her mother."

The way this woman deflated filled him with such an ego boost, he finally knew how Jake felt when he'd won an argument over Khonshu. The rush was just that good.

It seemed she wasn't expecting that.

"Oh, so her mother is..."

"Dating me and happily committed." He said with a jerk of his head downwards. "Now, ma'am, do you intend to make a purchase, or do you intend to hold up the line building behind you for this till and cost me my job?"

Her face flushed scarlet and she began to sputter, scowling at Steven as he politely told her to buzz off.

"Have a nice day!" Steven called out as she walked away, her horrible perfume following alongside her.

Steven felt victorious as he gave the little girl in his arms a kiss to her forehead.

Love and loyalty.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Victoria was happily tucked into her bed, fast asleep thanks to Khonshu regaling her with a story of one of his previous Fists fighting evil doers in the sands of the desert.

He omitted the violence, thankfully, and merely settled for a cliché "the hero scared the villain into being good" trope for the ending, as per your wishes.

He did not want that broom lodged in his eye socket again.

"So... Did Steven tell you some woman tried to hit on him?" Marc asked you as you brushed your teeth, your wonderful skin still dewy from the shower, your body clad only in a fluffy pink and blue striped towel. Christmas day was in the morning and you wanted to look somewhat presentable when you recorded the gift opening when the sun came up.

You almost choked on your toothpaste as you yanked the brush free.

"What?"

"Yeah, some teacher." Marc grinned at you as he ruffled his own damp hair from the towel. He knew your legs were still shaky from your previous romp in the steamy bathroom, but you stood strong until that subject came up.

"What did she say."

"Honestly? From what he said she was being rude. About you, about Victoria, not letting him get a word in..." Marc scoffed as he dropped his towel into his lap.

You spit out the toothpaste and aggressively rinse your mouth out, a pang of jealousy sweeping into you.

"Steven actually told this lady off."

Oh?

"He did? I have a hard time believing Steven can do that..." You murmured, looking at your reflection in the foggy mirror.

"Yeah, but he was insanely passive aggressive with it." Marc laughed, stretching his arms above his head. "Her face got soooo damn red."

You grin as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around you, fingers toying with the knot in your towel.

"Hah! Serves her right for talking about my baby." You say triumphantly.

"Serves that woman right for automatically assuming we were into toxic, divorced, Holiday Barbie-looking bimbos." Marc scoffed.

You giggle as he placed kisses to your shoulder, his teeth grazing your damp skin.

"Marc Spector, you are insatiable." You sigh, raking your nails through his damp curls.

"Hey, it's Christmas Eve, don't I get to open a present early?" He murmured into your pulse.

"You're Jewish."

"And I do the work of an Egyptian god and you celebrate Christmas without the religious part." He grinned, tugging on the fluffy towel around you.

"So... do I get to unwrap my present or not?"

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Time of the month

I mean this in no slander way, but the clones may know about sex and etc, but they definitely are dumb ass hell to a period lmfao. They are clones after not really like the other demons too lmfao

Warnings: fem!reader, fluff & smut, periods, oral (reader receiving), hunger impulses, humor

Aizetsu

Aizetsu could tell someone wasn't right with you for the past few days. He explained that a demon is able to sense the hormone changes in a human, but he couldn't really make out what it is. When Aizetsu smelled blood from you, he almost panicked. "Y/n, where are you hurt?" He asked, holding your face looking around your neck and chest.

You giggled. "I'm not hurt. Why are you assuming that?" You asked "I smell blood from you" Aizetsu says almost crying and looking around your body "don't hide your pain from me it makes me sad when you do" Aizetsu kept checking until he squats down to your lower half and smelled where the blood was coming from.

You took a step back a bit nervously. "Aizetsu... I'm just on my period. Do you not know what that means?" You asked, and he just shook his head, no in response. From that day, you had to explain to Aizetsu what a period is and how it's very common for women to have one and anyone with a uterus, and he was able to understand.

You couldn't stop Aizetsu hunger when your period came. "Y/n, I'm so hungry. Please let me eat, I need to. I can't resist it anymore. " Aizetsu begs you every time, drool falling from his chin from his hunger. Aizetsu goes down on you, having his tongue lap up at the blood flowing out of you having his fill. Most of the time, Aizetsu does it to satisfy his hunger but will get carried away and end up over stimulating you.

"A-Aizetsu you said you were done" you mewl and your back arches when you feel him suck on your clit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he moans on your pussy "forgive me" he said between licks not stopping until he's tasting your cum mixed with your blood.

Aizetsu takes notice that when you're on your period, you get more emotional and clingy to him. "Y/n, I have to go see "that man." I promise I'll come back," he said, but you just held his hand tighter. "Don't leave Aizetsu. I'll miss you, " you said and began crying, but that only made Aizetsu cry and even harder at that. "Your poor thing. You can't live with out my for more than a second, can you? " he said.

"What the fuck!? I just don't want my boyfriend leaving me" you sob "so you can live without me!?" Aizetsu asked only making him sob harder having you both because an emotional mess.

Sekido

The first time Sekido realized what a period was after you explained it to him, he literally called it stupid. He couldn't understand how the uterus could cause a person so much pain all because they aren't pregnant each month. "If it's because you're not pregnant, why don't I just get you pregnant, you fool?" He said, being very serious, and you tried not to laugh since it wouldn't really change anything.

Sekido would get mad when your period could affect your whole body. "What do you mean I can't lay my head on your chest!? You said it was just your stomach hurting you," Sekido said, sounding confused but somehow angry as well.

"Sekido, when I get my period, a lot of things happen to my body, including my boobs... they are really tender and sore right now, " you explained, but that only angered Sekido even more. "Please don't be mad," you say with tears instantly coming out of your eyes. "Why are you crying!?" He raised his voice. "Don't yell at me either!" You sob in your hands, having Sekido stand there dumb founded and feeling somewhat bad for making you cry.

Sekido had to take many months to understand you on your period and when not to say certain things. Even so, he couldn't hide his hunger when you're around on your period. "Stop squirming. The more you do, the less blood that comes out and I'm fucking hungry" he said, holding your legs open but reminds himself you are in pain and sure to have his hand on your stomach, rubbing it and giving your clit attention with his tounge to give you pleasure.

Sekido doesn't get carried away with getting his fill but there will be those days where he'll want to fuck you on your period and that's the softest sex you'll ever get from him.

Karaku

"A period? Do I get one? My dick does have a hole, so maybe i can have one..." He'll ask seriously after you explained to him why you bleed every month from your vagina. Karaku couldn't believe this was something you could do all because you weren't pregnant, and surprisingly, he made sure to take a mental note of how he should help you when this time comes around.

Karaku did realize how needy you'd get for him on your period. He'd use this opportunity to get his fill, lapping up the blood from your pussy but take his sweet time but making sure to pleasure you in the process, moaning from how good you tasted both for his hunger and your arousal.

"You're still in pain, aren't you?" Karaku rubs your stomach and gives it soft kisses. "Don't worry. I'll make the pain go away," he smirks. Karaku is able to go up to many rounds with you, that's just the stamina of a demon but he has to realize on a normal day you can only do so many but on months like this? Oh he loves how you can take his cock for more then an hour.

Karaku notices how you're much more needy for words of affirmation during this month. "y/n, you're beautiful. I love you. " he'll hold your face, squish your cheeks together, and even pet your head. "Are you still in pain?" he'll say, rubbing your back and sometimes giving you butt rubs as you lay on his chest. "It'll end soon. You'll be fine"

Urogi

"Wow! Are these pads? Look how easily they break!" He said, ripping up at least 3 of your pads with his sharp talons. You screamed at him so loud that day, saying you need them to the point where Urogi doesn't dare mess with them again.

Urogi makes fun of you for being in your period. He'll often compare you to Sekido with how angry you get. "Am I bothering you? Why aren't you talking to me? Hello, hello hello" Urogi said, knowing he's being annoying and even using his talon to poke you in a painful way to annoying you "fuck off! Stop that you annoying bird!" You yell "ok ms.sekido, " Urogi said.

You'd never have a problem with Urogi going down on you when it's that month for you since it was normal for a demon to have hunger impulses when they smell blood from a human but you never wanted to give Urogi the satisfaction of how good his tounge felt.

You can tell when Urogi has had his fill but will want to keep playing with you. You'll turn your head with a pout, not looking at his big yellow eyes staring at you. "What? Don't wanna look at me? Is it because I'm a mess with your blood" he mocks you and presses his tounge flat on your clit.

"So much more sensitive then usual" Urogi grabs your thighs spreading them open keeps licking at your clit and feel your legs trembling in his grip. "Oh? Does it feel good? Your legs are shaking, " he said "C'mon tell me how good it feels, " he stops, looking up at you, waiting for an answer

"Fuck... it feels good, keep going" you grab his hair pushing his head closer to your thobbing clit. "Don't worry, I'll have you cumming on my tounge in no time~"