#meg was there for me when i was single. meg was there for me during lockdown. thats a bond her and i will have forever

[sirpeppersto]

going to try running hades 2 on a surface pro 6 bc it's the only windows device i own

[obsesssedblerd]

"Who's your new teacher?" Part 4

Synopsis: You run into Toji at the store, who had plans to buy the exact same gift for Megumi. 

Pairing: single dad! toji x f! reader

Contains: So much fluff, both reader and toji are obviously crushing on each other, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, megumi and tsumiki being absolutely adorable, shiu kong is toji’s friend, everyone is happy bc i said so 

part one, part two, part three 

a/n: and here's part four! barely proofread. sorry for mistakes!

— — — — — 

Every time you see him, your heart flutters stupidly in your chest, and you feel as if you’re glowing from within. Without even knowing, your mouth curves upward until you’re grinning excitedly. Toji Fushiguro is also smiling, his dark eyes as soft as ever. 

“Hi, Toji.”

“Hey, doll.” 

“Helloooooo?!” Shiu practically screams from over the phone, and Toji rolls his eyes as he asks, “did you find the damn toy?!” 

“Even better,” Toji says. “I’ll call you back.” 

Once he hangs up the phone, Toji steps closer to you, pointing towards the toy you’re clutching tightly in your hands. “Were you… Were you planning to buy that for Megs?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, suddenly timid. “Um, was that a problem? I hope I’m not crossing any lines or anything like that. It’s just- he looked so scared for his appointment, and once I saw that this dropped in, I knew it would be—” 

“I’m not upset. No, it’s just…” Toji trails off, and you raise a brow at the shocked expression on his face. “That toy is expensive.” 

“It’s for Gumi,” you say, smiling fondly when you think about the shy, spiky-haired boy in your class who loves dogs, coloring pictures of flowers and telling you stories about his family. “He’s worth it.” 

When Toji smiles again, it’s warm, full of gratitude, and so lovely that you feel your heart stutter in your chest again. “Thank you, that’s so sweet. He’ll love it,” he says, and then places his hand on your shoulder. “However, I can’t let you buy that. It’s too much money.” 

“No, please. Let me. I can cover it.” 

“Let me cover it,” he says. “You can still be the one to gift it to him, but please just let me buy it. I know from Shiu that teachers usually have to buy so much on their own.” 

It was true. Crayons, markers, pencils, class decorations, picture books and anything else to make your students happy usually fell on your shoulders. Then, there was rent, groceries, and other expensive bills that kept you up at night sometimes. However, your stress temporarily fades away when you spend time with the children at the pre-school you work at, especially Megumi Fushiguro. Even better during those afternoons when you talk with Toji. 

“Alright, fine,” you say, and you hold up a single finger. “One condition: You at least let me buy Tsumiki’s doll.” 

He raises a brow. “Which doll?” 

Since you both are in the aisle that stores toys for young girls, you’re able to point to the one you had your eye on. The smiling doll was a soccer player, her dark hair styled in a high ponytail—the same way Tsumiki usually styles her hair. The doll wore a jersey, cleats, and shin guards, and the set also came with a miniature soccer ball, water bottle and sports headband for the doll. “I was going to give this one to her after her soccer match.” 

You look back at Toji to see him staring at you in disbelief, and before you can ask him why, he tells you, “I seriously can’t believe that we both ended up at the same store getting ready to buy the same two toys.” 

“Wow, really?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles as he grabs the doll for Tsumiki off of the shelf, then starts walking with you towards the front of the store to check out. “I had it in mind at Megumi’s appointment.” 

“How was that, by the way?” You ask. 

Toji pulls out his phone and scrolls for a few seconds before showing you a picture. Megumi and Tsumiki were standing outside of the doctor’s office with matching stickers on their t-shirts, happily enjoying their candy. “He did great. His sister held his hand to keep him calm throughout the checkout, and it worked. Proud of her for keeping it together, too. She only had to call one person a ‘stupid head’ today because he told him that boys shouldn’t cry.” 

You snicker, “Oh, my gosh, ‘stupid head’?? Cute picture, also. They’re so precious.” 

“Mhm,” He looks down, shaking his head with a bashful smile. “She actually means dumbass.” 

“Oh, does she, now? I assume there’s a story behind that?” 

He hums, taking a few seconds to think before beginning to explain. “Couple years ago. She was five. Megumi was just about to turn two. I was driving them to the store, and this guy cut me off. I shouted, ‘watch where you’re going, dumbass’ and she repeated after me.” When you make eye contact with each other, you both laugh. “Shiu nearly pissed himself,” he says, “I was laughing so hard that I had to pull over. Finally, we explained to her that dumbass is a bad word, and that she had to say something different. So, she settled on ‘stupid head.” It’s so simple, but it nearly kills Shiu and I because we know what she actually wants to say.” 

“That’s incredible,” you say, standing with him in the checkout line. “And I’m happy she called that guy out at the appointment today. She’s so protective of her little brother. I love it.” 

You’re about to put the plushie onto the conveyor belt, but Toji gently grabs it from you, placing both it and the doll on there. You look at him. “Toji, I—” 

“I meant it earlier when I said that I can’t let you buy this because of how pricey it is. Since you got here first and spent so much time looking for the dog plushie, you’re still going to be the one to give both of these to them,” he says softly. “But just knowing that you were willing to spend this much money for Megs and Tsumiki when you one hundred percent didn’t have to mean so damn much to me. Thank you. Not just for being an amazing teacher, but also for being a wonderful human being.” 

Oh, he’s so sweet. 

There’s so much you want to say, but you know that you can’t say too much—at least, not yet. So you go for the first and most important. “You’re an incredible father. They love you so much.” 

He smiles and nods his thanks, then pays for the two items before handing you the bag. As you two leave the store, he offers to walk you to your car, and you accept. “You’re right,” you mutter to him. “Teachers don’t make a lot, but we always make do with what we have. One day, I’ll have the classroom of my dreams.” You declare, suddenly determined. “It’s what the kids deserve. Also, I want you to know that even if I was struggling a little bit after buying those toys, I would’ve never regretted buying them for Megumi and Tsumiki. They’re such good kids.” 

“I know,” Toji says. “Not once did I think that you’d regret it. You’ve only ever been sweet to them.” When he sees that it’s beginning to get dark, he gently taps your car. “You should get home and get some rest. I can tell that you’ve been trying to hunt that dog plushie down for a while. Also,” he stops and exhales, and you wonder what he’s thinking. A light shade of pink dusts his cheeks, and it reminds you of him in Megumi’s drawing. 

“I want to see you more,” he finally tells you. “Outside of work, I mean. I was thinking that maybe we can grab dinner some time?” 

“Yes.” It’s impossible to hide your smile. How could you? “I’d love to.” 

He carefully grasps your hand, then brings it to his mouth, placing a light kiss on the back of it. It’s a sweet gesture, but you feel like you’re about to catch fire and then melt into the ground. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he purrs. “And I’ll text you plans about the date.” 

Date. Date. 

“Okay,” you manage to reply when you find your voice. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well!” You get into your car, wave him off once more, then drive off, unable to control your excitement. 

— 

As Toji watches your car leave the store’s parking lot, he’s already calling Shiu, a new idea beginning to take shape in his mind. 

“Are you done flirting?” Shiu answers with a huff. “The kids were wondering where you went.” 

“Sorry about that. I’m on my way now. Quick question though: That job that took me less than an hour to complete. What was the payout for that one again?” 

“Eight thousand, why?” 

Perfect. “Put half of it aside.” 

— — — — — 

“What’s this?” Megumi asks when you place the wrapped gift box in front of him, looking up at you and Toji with large, curious eyes. 

The three of you are in your classroom a little earlier than usual, since you wanted to give Megumi his present before the other students arrived. Toji didn’t mind since he also wanted to see his reaction.

“A present that Ms. [Y/L/N] got you,” Toji answers as he pats his head. “Go ahead and open it.” 

Like with everything else, Megumi takes his time opening the gift; delicately undoing the knot in the bow and wrapping the gift paper starting from the edges. When he sees the new plushie, the kid gasps, then screams in joy. 

“No way!” He holds up his usual black dog plushie next to the new white one, tears of happiness rising to his eyes. “Now they’re together!” He gently puts the toy down, then runs into your arms, squeezing you as tight as he can. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” 

“Aw, of course, sweetheart!” You laugh as you hug him in return. “I’m so proud of you for getting through your appointment. You did such a good job.” 

As you praise him, Toji notes that Megumi still hasn’t released you yet. It was the longest he’s ever seen him hug anyone that wasn’t him or Tsumiki. His previous preschool teacher told him in the past that Megumi was too closed off, and that his refusal to talk to anyone would cause so many issues in the future. At first, Toji was worried, but now that he has seen how he is with you, even after such a short amount of time, he just knew that it was because Megumi didn’t trust his other teacher. 

But he really, really trusted you. Loved you, even.

-----------

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[berzahoes]

when you know you know | tom blyth

summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)

an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times 😭 also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a

“don’t look now, but the guy behind you is staring.” your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.

“he’s cute,” your other friend, layne, joined in.

your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. “someone’s got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.”

you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.”

“he has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think that’s all you need to know about your future man.” meg said.

“you just described almost every boy here,” you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. “i like being single anyways. i have more me time.”

“babe, we know you don’t like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you don’t like him then that’s that. we won’t push you to talk to any one else ever again.” layne said.

“just this one time.” you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.

you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldn’t figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.

you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” you immediately apologize.

“it’s okay, um are you . . . okay?” he asked shyly.

“yeah, I’m good. i’m sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.” you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.

“i’m tom.” he introduced himself.

“i’m yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. it’s a habit.” you chuckled nervously.

get it together, yn

“no, it’s fine, wasn’t really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?” he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it might’ve sounded creepy.

“no, i’m with my friends. i’m sorry, again, i noticed the accent, you’re british. are you visiting good ol’ new york?” you questioned.

“studying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?”

“i’m actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. it’s my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.”

from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.

“does anyone know how to lip read?”

“shhh! shut up layne!”

“who’s gonna tell her that’s not the guy we were talking about?”

“i don’t want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.”

[revelboo]

I'm soooo obsessed with 'Skin and Bones' it makes me look stupid. I daydream about it at work lmao. Honestly fantastic

For me, it’s as fun to write soft Megatron as it is to write feral TFP Megs. Mass displaced mech 18+ 🌶️

Skin and Bones Pt 9- extended cut

IDW Megatron x Reader

Servos trembling as they curl into fists, he shrugs off Soundwave’s hand on his shoulder. Knows the communications officers is concerned, but the energon splattered on his hands and chassis isn’t his. It rarely ever is.

“Leave me,” he growls, wishing he could gentle his tone. But that fury is a living thing inside his spark. Another failed coup to put down. It’s not like it’s anything new, but he’s just so tired of it and violence is the only way to keep his throne. The only thing his followers respect and he hadn’t been able to temper his blows, because betrayal always brings out the worst in him. Those memories always too close to the surface.

Drags him right back to the gladiator pits, struggling and clawing just to survive, because one wrong move will cost his life. Never being able to relax, not even during recharge. Being the strongest had placed a target on his head. Made him plenty of enemies.

And finally alone, that rage shakes him, sinking into his spark. Because everything he’s done has been for them. Fighting for freedom, to not be leashed by the aristocracy ever again. Dragging his chair away from his desk, he slings it across the room. Wants to tear the walls down around him, but it’s the sharp cry from his berth that freezes him. Chains that fury.

Spark constricting as he realizes he’d forgotten all about you. Head turning, he finds you pressed against the wall on his berth, eyes wide with fear. Seeing the real him for the first time, the angry mech who’d fought so hard just to survive, who’d grown bitter and determined. And you’re terrified.

“Little one,” he growls, voice too rough still as he approaches. The chair didn’t land anywhere near you, but he’s been so careful to not show you the worst of him, because around you he can relax. Remember that there were times before the fights that weren’t easy by any means, but were almost happy. Companionship found with the other miners, a sense of family that had been taken from him. Reaching out a hand, he doesn’t try to touch you as you flinch back, little hands curled against yourself. Afraid if he tries to touch you, it’ll send you running. And he’s afraid of what he’ll do in turn if you reject him. He’s just so tired of it all, but you give him comfort. A little spot of trusting warmth.

Eyes shiny, you look from his outstretched hand to his face. Slowly letting out a breath and coming to him to lay a warm palm on his servo. Still trusting him even if you’re scared.

“Everything okay?” You ask, looking up at him as a single tear slides down your cheek and you reach up to scrub it away. Afraid, but asking him if he’s okay and your concern aches in his spark.

Knows how dangerous it is after the brawl he’d just had. If anyone comes looking for him, if they get past their fear and come at him together? Knows he shouldn’t risk it even as he places his ped on the berth, leaning forward and mass shifting. Closing the distance between you as he shrinks and seeing your eyes widen as he carefully grips your little hand. Even like this, you’re so much smaller than he is, fragile. But as you look up at him, he’s snared by those eyes, the little flecks of color in them he’s never noticed.

“You’re little. Smaller,” you whisper with a soft, awkward laugh, eyes dropping to stare at his hand gripping yours. “Didn’t know you could do that.”

He needs to see those eyes again, his free hand reaching to cup your soft cheek and tip your face up. Feeling when you lay your palm on his hand as he slides a servo along your cheek. Accepting his touch despite the faint tremor he can still feel, those trusting eyes seeing him. The good and the bad, and not running. Venting sharply when his touch leaves a smear of energon on your cheek, marking your skin with his sins.

Because that’s what he’s always done, isn’t it? Every time he reaches out, he just ends up destroying what he’s trying to protect.

He’s frozen, those red optics fixed on his servos against your cheek as you try to calm your racing heart. That had been the other side of the coin, the vicious warlord that the Seekers had whispered about. Feared. Red optics glowing, denta bared as he’d seized his chair in energon wet hands and thrown it. That hatred twisting his face mixed with despair, cutting you so deeply, piercing the fear.

Those wet servos are touching you, dampening your skin. And he’s just staring, venting raggedly like he’s about to lose it all over again. That’s what makes you catch his hand between both of yours when he tries to snatch it away. Eyes dropping as he hesitates and you pull, turning yourself so your back is to him, his arm under yours and pinned to your body. So you can examine that big hand. “I like when you touch my cheek or play with my hair,” you begin, unsure of how to say what you need to, what he needs to hear. Playing with a servo to curl it slightly and amazed that he’s letting you. “These hands don’t scare me, they’re warm against me when I sleep. They’re strong, but they keep me safe.”

“They destroy, too,” he murmurs.

He’s so close he’s almost touching you and you feel the warmth of him when he vents and it stirs your hair. “Mine can, too.”

He huffs out what might be a bitter laugh at that, but he would think you’re too little, too fragile to do any harm. Giving in, you lean back into him. Soaking in his warmth and safety and realizing how attached to him you are. That you like that rumbling voice, like those big, gentle hands. It’s not like you’d ever deluded yourself into thinking he was safe, but he’d made you feel seen and cherished. He’d felt safe even knowing what he was and what he’s capable of.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Tugging his hand up, you press a kiss against the center of his palm. You can’t look at him, can’t risk seeing the surprise or worse, the disgust on his face. Cause to him, you’re a pet. A weird little alien he adopted as his. So you brace yourself when he turns you, those red optics searching your face.

“You should be,” he says, cupping your face in those warm hands. “I terrify myself.” And his head dips, his mouth brushing against yours.

More of a question than a kiss, a warm stroke of his lips against yours and he’s lifting his head. Going up on tiptoes as warmth spreads through you, you catch his helm and drag him back so you can mold your own mouth to his. Wanting this, him even though it’s crazy. You’re two very different species, but being held by him, drowsing to the thrum of his spark under you, it feels like coming home. And you want all of it. Want to hang on with both hands so you’re not left alone again, because after him? You might not survive that loneliness.

His glossa slides against the seam of your lips entering when you part for him. Those big hands sliding over you, dragging you closer as your feet leave the ground. His mouth moves against yours in a hungry demand and one of his arms cages you to him.

Your mouth is all heat and hunger against his, those soft hands clinging to him as if afraid he might stop. Even if he’d wanted to, he’s not sure he could now. Because you’d reached out, taken what you wanted and given him permission to do the same. No, there’s no stopping until he takes everything he can, loses himself in whatever comfort you’ll allow him. Because you? There’s no conniving or plotting in those warm eyes. Pinning you to his frame, he goes down on his knees and lays you down under him, head lifting slightly so he can find those eyes. Reassure himself that he can have this without destroying what little he has.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, face flushed as you reach for him and how can he deny you?

Slowly so he doesn’t scare you, he finds the bottom edge of your shirt and slides it up to reveal soft skin. “I’m here,” he says and you smile faintly, little hands moving to help him strip you. And only then, bare underneath him, do you avoid his optics as he surfs a palm against you, mapping you out with his servos. “Look at me.” It’s a demand and not as gentle as he’d meant, but you hesitantly meet his optics. “We’re very different.”

“I know,” you say, reaching up to skim your fingers over his chassis in barely there touches. As if not sure if you’re allowed.

Catching your wrist, he presses your palm more firmly against him. “I like those differences.” Shifting slightly, he continues his slow exploration. Finding where he can touch you to make you shiver, squirm away, or gasp. Then his servos find you, cup you and stroke that wet heat. Realizing that as different as you are, it feels like you’re made for him as he presses a servo inside you and you arch. Primus, help him as he frees his spike. Needing to be buried deep inside you even as he strokes that servo deep.

“Don’t stop,” you protest when he pulls his hand away and he laughs softly. He can’t even if you asked him to as he shifts to cover you. Little eyes widening as you feel his spike slide against you, then slowly press inside. “Oh.”

You’re so tight and wet wrapped around his spike as he sheaths himself. He can feel you clench on him before you relax and soften as he cups your cheek. Rocks himself against you with a growl, savoring the feel of you. “I love those differences,” he snarls, beginning to move against you. Hips driving urgently against yours, still wound up with that anger from earlier. Taking that frustration out on you, claiming you rougher than he intended. And you hold onto him, murmuring against his neck. Right there, please, his name, falling almost mindlessly from your lips against the mesh of his neck. Accepting him even like this when you deserve gentle and soft.

And when you cry out and tighten on him, he keeps rutting against you. Denta bared as he thrusts and chases you over that edge. Feeling you milk his spike as he buries himself deep and releases. Claiming you as his. Needing you and those soft hands that had reached out, those eyes that had seen him and not turned away. Knows he doesn’t deserve you, but wants to hold onto this as long as you’ll trust yourself to him, because you feel more like home than anywhere he’s ever been.

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[dreamdragonkadia]

Heyyy I saw that your open to percy jackson request and I was wondering if you could write a percy jackson x mortal reader. And kinda have him confessing to her that he's a demigod and her comforting him since he was anxious about telling her because he was afraid of her leaving and like it ends very sweet and stuff

Orrr still mortal reader and having a reunion after he went missing in camp Jupiter ( hurt/comfort)

Or maybe (if you read trials of apollo ofc) her finding apollo and meg and bringing them to percy and apollo kinda flirting with her since I loooooove jealous percy . I have tons of ideas and there aren't a lot of percy x mortal reader so I'd definitely like to see more of those

Ofc no pressure and I'm looking forward to future writings of yours since I absolutely love them 💕

Have a lovely day/night

*Very aggressively shaking the iron bars of my enclosure* THANK YOU!!! I will give you all the kisses for this. These prompts are sooooo good, but I especially love the first one because—get this—I was LITERALLY thinking of something like this today. Me and you? Same brain wavelength. We are sharing one single Seaweed Brain cell. I didn’t have a good prompt for the idea until this message, so you basically unlocked it for me. I’m thinking older Percy for this one—end-of-college Percy, maybe just out of it, living the “young adult with a job, bills, and a mortgage of trauma” life.

p.jackson x mortal! reader

He knew it had to happen eventually.

At some point—sooner rather than later—Percy had to tell you the truth. The burden of it sat heavy on his chest every time you looked at him with that effortless smile, completely unaware of the worlds you were in the middle of. His mom had been pushing him to say something for months. Three years together, living in a shared apartment that still had mismatched plates and walls full of inside jokes, and the idea of forever had started to feel real. Tangible.

He had even caught Poseidon dropping hints in his own cryptic, godly way. A trident-shaped mark burned into the sand on the beach during one of your trips. A perfectly placed seashell—blue and green, suspiciously matching Percy’s eyes—that had been ‘just lying there’ when you pointed it out. When Percy had confronted his dad about it, Poseidon had only grunted something about "honoring the love of your life." Because, of course, Poseidon thought this was simple. As if breaking the news that monsters were real and Percy Jackson was the son of an actual Greek god wouldn't send you sprinting in the opposite direction.

It wasn’t fair to you. He knew that.

It wasn’t fair to keep the truth buried beneath all the late-night Netflix marathons and quiet breakfasts where you’d steal bites off his plate without asking. But Percy didn’t know how to say it. How do you casually drop “Oh, by the way, monsters are real, the Greek gods are alive, and I’ve basically been fighting for my life since I was twelve?”

He was scared—terrified, actually. The thought of losing you clawed at his heart more than any monster ever had. You—his beautiful, mortal partner who grounded him in ways he never knew he needed. You, who could calm him with a touch when nightmares of Tartarus left him shaking. You, who didn’t know it, but gave him the kind of world he could fight for all over again.

Sometimes, though, Percy swore you could see through the Mist. The moments were fleeting but there all the same.

Like that time in Central Park when you’d been walking ahead of him, suddenly stopping short to squint at a gnarled tree root. You tilted your head and muttered, “I could’ve sworn that moved…” Then there were the times you furrowed your brows, staring off into space, and said, “I think I’m going crazy, Perce. I swear that pit bull had glowing eyes.” Percy had only laughed it off back then, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head like it was nothing.

It wasn’t nothing.

He’d seen the way you brushed it off when a shadow moved the wrong way. Or how you frowned at the old man selling ‘authentic drachmas’ outside a museum exhibit. How sometimes you blinked a little too hard, shook your head, and said, “Never mind.”

Percy knew better. You weren’t crazy. The Mist was just thin around you, and whether you realized it or not, you were starting to notice cracks in the veil.

He wondered what you would think of him—of the battles, the gods, the truth of it all. Of the scars he still hadn’t explained and the very obvious celestial bronze sword, he kept under the bed that you assumed was “a really cool prop” from his teenage LARPing days when you saw it lying around. You never pushed him for answers, though, and Percy loved you for that. For trusting him without conditions.

Still, every time you walked into the apartment after work, tossing your keys onto the counter and greeting him with, “What’s for dinner, Seaweed Brain?”—he froze a little inside. It had to be now. Today. Tomorrow. Soon. He couldn’t keep this from you any longer.

But how could he start?

“Hey, babe, remember that glowing pit bull you saw? Yeah, that was probably a hellhound.” No. Too much. Too soon.

Maybe he could ease you into it. Start small. Bring up Greek mythology over dinner. Ask if you believed in ghosts or weird supernatural stuff and see how you reacted. Or maybe he could take you to his mom's for dinner—because Sally could explain it better. She always could.

The problem was, no matter how he planned it, Percy couldn’t shake the knot of anxiety in his stomach. He’d faced Titans, gods, and even Tartarus itself. But nothing—absolutely nothing—was as terrifying as the idea of losing you.

And gods, he really hoped you wouldn’t run.

But tonight, as you sat cross-legged on the couch in your fuzzy socks, absently scrolling on your phone while a random cooking show hummed in the background, he knew this was it.

He couldn’t keep living in this half-truth, couldn’t keep pretending that the monsters weren’t inching closer, that you weren’t starting to see them. The glowing eyes. The shadows. The strange pull toward places even Percy couldn’t explain.

He watched you for a moment, his heart thudding against his ribs like it was trying to escape. You didn’t look up at first, too focused on the screen, but his staring must’ve given him away because you finally glanced over.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You teased, smiling. “Do I have something on my face?”

Percy managed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No. You’re perfect.”

The words came out too serious, and that was enough for you to frown. You set your phone down on the coffee table, leaning toward him. “What’s wrong?”

His throat went dry. Say it. Just say it.

“Babe, I need to tell you something,” Percy said quietly, fingers fidgeting with the frayed hem of his hoodie sleeve. “It’s… important.”

Your expression shifted, playful teasing giving way to concern. “Okay…? You’re kind of scaring me, Percy. Are you okay?”

He exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair before looking at you—really looking at you. You were everything he’d ever wanted, everything he’d thought he’d never get. And maybe, just maybe, after tonight, you wouldn’t be here anymore.

“I’m okay. But—what I’m about to tell you…” He swallowed hard. “It’s probably going to sound insane. You’ll think I’m joking at first, but I’m not.”

“Percy,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

The warmth of your touch anchored him, and for a moment, he almost chickened out again. But he couldn’t keep lying. Not to you.

“I’m not… normal,” he said carefully. “Not like you. Not like anyone, really.”

You blinked, waiting. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Percy paused and then just ripped off the Band-Aid. “I’m a demigod.”

Your brow furrowed. “A what?”

“A demigod,” he repeated, voice firmer this time. “Like—half human, half god. Greek god. My dad is Poseidon. The Poseidon. God of the sea. I’ve been fighting monsters and… dealing with this stuff since I was twelve.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open, like you weren’t sure whether to laugh or call him crazy. Finally, you let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. “Okay, Seaweed Brain. You’ve been watching too many fantasy movies—”

“I’m serious,” Percy interrupted, “I know it sounds insane, but it’s the truth. I’ve fought monsters. I’ve met gods—like, actual gods. I’ve been to places you wouldn’t believe. The glowing pit bull you saw? That wasn’t just a dog. It was a hellhound. You’ve seen things, haven’t you? Weird stuff you can’t explain?”

You froze, the humor draining from your face. Your mind raced, replaying the times trees flickered the wrong way, the glowing eyes, the strange feeling in your gut that told you something wasn’t right.

“But… Percy,” you whispered, searching his face. “That’s not possible.”

“It is,” he said softly. “And I didn’t tell you because I was scared. Scared you’d think I was crazy. Scared you’d leave. But I can’t keep this from you anymore. It’s not fair.”

You leaned back slightly, like you needed space to process. “So… what, you’re saying the Greek gods are real? And your dad is Poseidon. Like, trident, ocean waves, ‘Little Mermaid’ Poseidon?”

He winced. “Yeah, but don’t say ‘Little Mermaid.’ He gets touchy about that.”

You shot him an incredulous look, as if you couldn’t believe he was cracking jokes right now. “Percy. This is insane. You—you’re insane.”

“I’m not,” he said quickly, desperate. “You’re already starting to see through the Mist—that’s why weird things keep happening around you. You see glimpses of it, even if you don’t realize it. You’re not crazy, okay? You’re just…” He paused, choosing his words. “You’re too close to me. And the closer you are to me, the more the Mist starts to thin.”

You stared at him, the pieces slowly clicking together, even if you didn’t want them to. “You’re serious. You’re actually serious.”

“Yeah.”

“Prove it,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Percy hesitated only for a second before standing up and pulling something out from under the couch. It was Riptide, now in pen form. He uncapped it, and with a soft shing, it extended into a gleaming, deadly blade.

Your breath caught, your eyes wide as saucers. “That’s—that’s a sword. A real sword.”

“Yeah.” He gave a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s called Riptide. I’ve been carrying it around since I was twelve.”

For a long moment, you didn’t say anything. You just stared at the sword, then at him. Finally, you whispered, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Because I was scared.” His voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability out in the open in it's rawest form. “Scared you’d run. Scared you’d hate me for lying. I thought… maybe if I kept it hidden, I could keep you safe. Keep you normal. But it doesn’t work like that. I’m part of this world, and you’re part of my world. You deserve to know the truth.”

You took a shaky breath, still processing. “So… you’re a demigod. Your dad is Poseidon. Monsters are real. And I’ve been seeing them this whole time?”

“Pretty much.”

“And you thought I’d leave you?”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

You looked at him—really looked at him—and, you saw it: the truth he’d been carrying, the fear, the love. Percy had been fighting his whole life, and here he was, offering you the truth even though it terrified him.

You stood up and walked over to him. He tensed, waiting for the worst. But instead, you placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at you. “Percy Jackson, you are an absolute idiot.”

His brows furrowed, but before he could respond, you pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m not leaving you.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Ever.” Another kiss—this time on his jaw. “Because I love you." Another kiss on his cheek. "Even if this sounds completely insane—and I mean, completely insane—you’re still you.”

Percy’s breath hitched, his arms wrapping around your waist. You kissed him again, firmly this time, and when you pulled back, his face broke into a grin—the first real one all evening.

“I don’t deserve you,” he muttered, pressing kisses to your cheek, then your nose.

You giggled softly, his lips brushing over your skin. “No, you really don’t.”

“Lucky me,” he murmured, kissing the space between his words now—soft, fleeting kisses that made your heart race. “To have—you—in my—life.”

You let out a breathless laugh, pulling him closer. “You’re such a sap, Perce.”

“Yeah,” he murmured against your lips, smiling. “But I’m your sap.”

[gulliblelemon]

Young Royals Fic Recommendations 4

Find previous lists here: 1, 2, 3.

I also have my own fic list here.

the only way out is through (and other lies) by c_violet @peakotp 13k words. Complete. Rating T. Wilhelm never got out of the car that sunny, terrible June day. His moment of clarity is... delayed. A collection of ficlets, all moments from a single post-finale AU, built around the Wille's Month 2024 prompts.

Follow the Sparks by emerybemery 80k words. Complete. Rating M. Wille agrees to fake date his friend Simon, thinking it will be a simple task, over before it really begins. He could not be more wrong.

and if my heart should somehow stop by @grapehyasynth 2k words. Complete. Rating T. When he told them that he hadn’t seen Wilhelm in three years, they had asked if Simon was available, if he could come down to a morgue in the west of the city, if he could identify a body. (Happy ending!) (Honourable mention to when I'm broken and bent, would you take me on the mend by the same author)

You’re the risk I want to take by @hergrandplan 41k words. Complete. Rating M. When Simon, an editorial assistant at one of Sweden’s most prominent commercial publishing houses, stumbles upon a manuscript sent in by a mysterious W. Viklund, he doesn’t expect it to be any good. He certainly doesn’t expect to fall in love with it.

kindling by intothelight @enjoythesilentworld 4k words. Complete. Rating E. While everything around them burns, Simon and Wille find comfort in each other. (Honourable mention to Tuesdays by the same author).

Foolproof by itsme_hi_imtheproblem @iwouldnevergetintofanfic 73k words. Complete. Rating E. When Prince Wilhelm and Simon Eriksson run into each other at a party, they are still very much heartbroken and determined to get their partners back. Or at least get thoroughly back at them.  (Honourable mention to The Winner Takes It All by the same author).

be the place you call home by phnelt @phneltwrites 30k words. Complete. Rating E. Post-canon, after winning an award, Simon attends his first royal reception as a guest. They deal with the fallout.

Cause That's What Love Is, Darling by technicallynotafan 4k words. Complete. Rating T. Simon loves being a parent - except on those rare days when he doesn't. A non-instagram-worthy bedtime at the Eriksson household.

Even If It's Just Us by queerfrogprince @thewaterloovases 20k words. WIP. Rating M. When Wilhelm loses his brother and is left alone with his grief, a pre-booked summer trip around Europe, and no one to take in Erik's place, he finds himself inviting Simon, his former high school best friend (and long-time crush).

When I'm in your arms by saynomore @saynomorefic 781 words. Complete. Rating T. Simon reflects on physical touch throughout his relationship.

Gold and Silver by signedmeraki @invisiblewille 6k words. Complete. Rating T. Normally the main fight at the Olympics is to see who gets first. But ever since Simon took the swimming world by a storm during the Rio Olympics in 2016, it's not been a question of who would get first, but who would join the Venezuelan swimmer and his equally accomplished Swedish rival on the podium in third.

Kyss mig meg dina röda läppar by @skibasyndrome 3k words. Complete. Rating T. Wille and Simon are friends sharing cherries at a picnic. (Honourable mention to One, two, three (Not only you and me) by the same author).

my rain soaked body was shaking (do you hate me?) by sundaisyHD @sundelionskyisland 2k words. Complete. Rating T. Simon has a bad night and calls Wille, his ex.

Incognito Mode by @oneofthosebells 78k words. WIP. Rating E. Wilhelm turns to camshows to help take the edge off, and maybe explore some of those repressed feelings a little bit further. It was never meant to lead to an all-consuming obsession, falling in love, and a whole load of shit hitting the fan.

[flagbridge]

I Saw the Phantom Proshot at the NYPL

Happy 36th birthday to Phantom's first preview on Broadway! I was going to save this post for the actual 36th, but I figure all of us need some more Phantom Broadway "original" content since the official Insta accounts are reminding us today that Phantom is no longer (though it should be) on Broadway. I'm going to post about what I saw, and I'll follow up on January 26 with all my answers!

Some time ago, @or-what-you-will and I went to the NYPL's Theater on Film and Tape Archive, and viewed the archival pro shot of the Original Broadway Cast of Phantom of the Opera, filmed live on May 25, 1988. There is only one copy, and its purpose is artistic preservation (not commercial distribution--the library owns it). It was kept under lock and key during the show's run. All information about how to access the archive is on the website. I can't really tell you anything more besides what's out there because it will become identifying. You get set up in a room with monitors and can pause and rewind, although you can't touch the media.

This was not my first TOFT proshot, but it was the best-filmed. Some, there's a single camera just parked, or there's some generation loss because of when the tape was transferred to digital. This had absolutely vivid colors, a multi-camera shot, and brilliant and clear soundboard audio. I heard lyrics I have never heard (especially during Notes when everyone is singing over one another), the sound balancing was so good. It was as transformative as seeing it live.

These are all the notes we took while there (apologize if they can seem disjointed) More below the cut.

ACT 1 NOTES: 

-Multicam shot

-amazing audio (soundboard), vivid colors

-Raoul/Barton is crying in his voice during the auction

-there’s a “voice” that sounds like a woman singing with the overture (maybe a theramin?) We jumped in shock at this. We've never heard this before, not even on soundboard.

-Sarah Brightman comes on stage during the Hannibal rehearsal, moving across the stage with Meg during “Rome not Roma”--so she dances in the front row during the Hannibal ballet

-Hannibal ballet then has 10 dancers and since Christine is in the whole thing, there is slightly different choreo

-there’s a synth under Meg’s “he’s there, the phantom of the opera” 

-Firmin lights a cigarette and Andre (Future Phantom Cris Groenendaal) stops him right before “Think of Me’ which makes the “Defense de Fumer” on the back of the curtain make even more sense

-Think of Me Gala skirt is not as full (but of note, Carlotta’s Elissa costume is much more ornate than we have now or even at the end of Broadway)

-Raoul sings slightly different notes in Think of Me. Steve Barton goes down a few notes on “young and innocent” (it’s not belted) and is clearly wistful. 

-The think of me cadenza is absolutely effortless

-The “Bravi, Bravi” is haunting and perfectly sound balanced!

-Meg can actually sing and the Angel of Music harmonies work

-Raoul (Steve Barton) is nervous before going into the dressing room. He taps his fingers on the banister and takes a deep breath before going in

-He’s also nervous inside the dressing room–you can see him going from seeing an old friend to suddenly having feelings, being attracted to her. When he’s standing behind her he has a slight moment when he nearly touches a lock of her hair. 

-Raoul is wearing a ring on his right hand (signet?)

-Steve Barton says MY Little Lotte

-Christine (Brightman) is excited about meeting the Angel of music and has a wanting and longing in “Enter at LAST master” (in a way that Lily Kerhoas does now and we haven’t had many Christines who do this) 

-The picture is VERY CLEAR and NO WASHOUT when we see Michael Crawford appear in the mirror for Phantom’s entrance. You see everything

-When the door opens for Raoul to the dressing room after they go through the mirror, it opens slowly (vs banging open). It’s the same tempo that Phantom moves to take Christine through the mirror

-1925 Phantom silhouette vibes at the first “sing for me” 

-Not a particularly aggressive cape twirl, but def a twirl. 

-They get VERY close on “turn your face away”, almost kiss (like, Russians, Panaro/Joseph close) 

- he has a nice portcullis sprawl but she does not press against him, there is visible space between them the entire time

-”Caress” and “hear it, feel it” are explicitly seductive, the former in how it’s sung, the latter because he self-caresses on “feel it”

-the “Touch me” in touch me/trust me is half sung/half spoken order, she strokes her hand over the mask and he does not pull away

-He does have a little panic when she faints and he covers her with the cloak. He’s holding her hair when he sings to her there

-At the unmasking, MC holds for a brief moment before covering his face with his hand so the audience gets a peek of the deformity (before “damn you”) 

-Vixen not viper

-Crawls on knees, not stomach. We get…lots of crying and whimpering 

-Christine sees his face a lot during this sequence. MC lowers his hand as soon as he’s on her side of the stage from “secretly dreams of beauty” to “Oh Christine”, when he turns away–but she is looking at him the entire time. MC is angled right by a mirror shard so we can see a bit of the deformity reflected back

-Right before “come we must return”, MC is about to cup her face with both his hands before changing his mind–she starts to reach for him as well. 

-His Mandarin robe is much longer than we have now (ankle length vs calf length) 

-This Giry has witch vibes

-Steve Barton is playing eager puppy Raoul and it shows even though he looks older (Barton was 35 at the time)

-The sound balancing is so good that you can hear lines you don’t normally hear during Notes 1 and Prima Donna–including the Managers thinking that Christine has just been off with Raoul all night. 

-Sarah Brightman does a different pose on the bed as the pageboy during Il Muto. She crosses her legs vs putting her hands on her hips. 

-Firmin yells “the role of Christine Daae” to the proscenium, clearly directed at Phantom

-Barton Raoul’s “There is no Phantom of the Opera” comes off more as “Christine this is just some dude” vs “he doesn’t exist at all.” 

-Raoul loves Christine so much. He strokes her hair gently to comfort her right before “No more talk of darkness”--his eyes are soft and he’s genuinely caring and concerned (vs trying to be a hero) 

-”All I ask is for one love one lifetime”--different lyrics, she does it twice (This is on soundboards from the time)

-Raoul puts his face to Christine’s hands at the proposal. 

-Christine is clearly kissing his cheek right next to his mouth during the kiss (the final lair kiss is a real kiss) 

-Christine’s “I must go” is not as playful as we often see it later. She really is trying to go. 

-Raoul is nervous at “Christine, I love you”--he lowers his head for a moment worried that he said something wrong. He’s excited when she replies “order your fine horses”

-AIAOY Reprise: Michael Crawford is partially slumped over the angel, he’s holding hands with it to the audience’s right, and arm is slumped over on the left. We get a lot of anguished weeping, and little distressed moans as Christine and Raoul sing, there is rocking and head shaking and then covering his ears. It’s a HUGE difference then when he stands up fully for “You will curse” (he does this again during final lair between “unfeeling scrap of clothing” and “pity comes too late) 

-He also roars before standing

-The Phantom laugh/cackle continues well into the chandelier drop into intermission at the light cut out for about 15 seconds. 

Act II

-Carlotta masquerade costume has no mesh in the skirt–it’s much more of a see-through skeleton crinoline, so the feature is the purple tights

-Not surprising since Sarah Brightman is a dancer, but Christine does the proper choreography during Masquerade--she's the center of attention. Barton also does quite a bit of dancing.

-There’s an organ (almost like a circus organ) underlying the finale during masquerade

-Red Death double doesn’t run down the stairs, he stays at the top

-Giry/Raoul exchange after masquerade–both holding the lantern and super closeup

-Reyer is clearly gay–coded. Some voice and hand gestures during Sitzprobe

-Wishing–only one “help me say goodbye” (when did the second one get added?)

-”Far-reaching” gaze, Wandering Child is a duet

-Piangi says “conquest” is assured (at some point, this became “congress”)

-Michael Crawford imitates Piangi until “past the point…”

-Sarah as Christine is listening intently to Phantom’s voice and immediately noticed something is off–she doesn’t figure it out right away but she notices something. She is suspicious the entire time. It's not clear when she knows for certain.

-Christine never flees from him, during the first caresses, he hovers over her body, she turns to kiss him, he turns away, her hand lingers on her back, before she gets up to sing her solo part away from the table

-Michael Crawford’s hands are in in his crotch when Christine’s singing on the other side of the stage (“you have come here”)--he’s moving his palms in his lap the whole time, his hands are shaking, we only get glimpses of him, most of this part it’s focused on her

-There is none of the arm waving circling while their hands are held, she takes his hands, he switches his grip to hold one of hers, and they keep them on him

-She figures it out when she reaches down–she’s holding his hands above him and she pushes her left (our right) hand down and he pulls and she notices something–we can only see to his upper waist but her hand disappears and her expression changes, it’s implied he has an erection

-she doesn’t ever feel the mask, either accidentally or on purpose

-She doesn’t actually ever try to escape. It’s not the current West End or the past blocking–but more accurate in that she is aware of the situation and plays along. She keeps going with the blocking

-they both get up and keep singing, neither drags the other to the centre, they move together and keep singing 

-The last “return”--he sings it at the unhooding, she doesn’t

-”Say you’ll share with me”--he is really pleading and almost crying on “say you want me” 

-The managers don’t come out to try to usher her offstage, she doesn’t signal to them to stay

-When Phantom gives her the ring, she takes it, but doesn’t put it on–she just holds it

-He doesn’t scream at the unmasking, he just looks shocked and sad

-Ratcatcher order is different–it’s after Raoul and Giry’s first lines, that’s the indication that Giry needs to turn around, Giry screams

-Phantom is crying at “flesh” and through “unfeeling scrap of clothing”, he’s also hunched over through this sequence, and then stands to his full height at “Pity comes too late.”

-Phantom makes a big show of raising the portcullis, hands fully raised

-Raoul swats at Erik with one hand (the other is still on the noose) when Phantom grabs Christine on “start a new life” 

-Phantom is probably the “minimum” amount of rough as we see Phantoms be with Christine in this sequence, as in, he’s definitely scary and menacing but he’s not harming her. He does grab her and spin her around on “start a new life with me.” There are a few wrist grabs (which is book accurate). He’s realizing more that his plan is absolutely crumbling. We get some shots of him on the organ looking panicked.

-Phantom makes a low growling noise before “you try my patience”, which is delivered quickly and almost casually. It is not menacing as some later Phantoms do. 

-”Pitiful creature”..MC’s hand is subtly shaking by his side

-The kiss: the 1st one MC stands with “claw hands” at his side, on the second one, the “claw hands” start shaking

-MC hunches over after he burns the noose

-He stands over the monkey, conducting it with one hand, he is mimicking the symbol clashes, he doesn’t touch it or cover its face

-When Christine returns the ring, his hand shakes as he takes it, he’s hunched over again. 

-She does seem conflicted about leaving, but she doesn’t press her hand back around his, she holds out the ring and his hand shakes as she takes it. She doesn’t linger very long. 

-He says a second “I love you” after she’s gone.

-He’s about to say it a third time, he says “I love…” and then see the veil, and grabs it and screams into it, and then turns and sees the boat leaving

-He sobs and keens a lot

-Raoul bends in the boat to caress Christine’s face on “say the word”)--this is halfway across the stage as opposed to during the stage right exit.

-Deliberately cracks voice on the "can" in “you alone can make” 

-MC Cradling the veil like a baby at the very end

SEND ME YOUR QUESTIONS! You can put it in comments, reblogs, AMA or DM's. I will answer all of them on January 26!

[another-lost-mc]

I have a question about your OCs…what can turn their rough mode (on a bed) on? 👀

biggest turn-ons

featuring: azra, karasu, zekhan

cw: nsfw / mdni. gn!reader. soft incubus!azra; horny!karasu; feral!zee; demon form sex mentioned (all three); pet names (baby, dear one, darling, bunny, beloved); oral sex (reader and karasu receiving); rough sex; sex in semi-public places (karasu's office and the fall); mentions of sexting (dirty texts and videos or audio); costume play (mc wearing a bunny outfit); teasing; consensual predator/prey kink and fear play (tame and intense scenes); dom/sub undertones; monsterfucking (zee’s demon form specifically).

word count: 6.1k (thank you meg and daisy for supporting me in these dark times)

a/n: some of these ideas are plucked from their nsfw alphabets and expanded on: azra / karasu / zekhan.

AZRA

Azra can easily control when he shifts into his demon form and he wears it often. For ordinary work nights at the club, he prefers his usual suit and coat. As a powerful lust demon, he naturally feeds off the sin radiating off the patrons in the club and he shifts forms naturally when the lustful feelings start to build up inside him. He is usually in his demonic form during casual sexual encounters and reverts back to normal once the afterglow subsides.

He's more conscious about wearing his demon form around you. It's not the most frightening or extraordinary demonic appearance you've seen in the Devildom, but he is still nervous about what you think of him. He doesn't want to scare you.

Azra has a lot of sex but he is starved for genuine affection and love from others. Demons use him for his money or his body, and in the past he did the same.

Taking the time to get to know him and still being able to love him the way he is? Nothing affects him the way you do, a rare vulnerability he allows himself to indulge in because it means he gets to have you. Even the smallest bits of kindness get his heart all twisted up, and he can't resist the urge to return his feelings the best way he knows how.

The first thing you learn about being Azra’s lover is that a single kiss can quickly spiral out of control. The sweet glide of your lips against his leaves him thrumming with desire that darkens his eyes, and his fingers tremble as his hands roam eagerly across your body. His demon form is on display in its naked glory when he starts backing you carefully into his bedroom until you bump into the edge of the bed.

He resists the urge to rip your clothes to pieces and forces himself to take them off slowly, one layer at a time, until they’re scattered carelessly on the floor and your naked body is bare and pinned beneath his. The soft sheets cushion you as he lowers his body gently onto yours and he positions himself between your legs.

He groans into the open-mouthed kisses he smears across your skin while you whimper his name and card your fingers through his unruly curls. He's hard and leaking against the inside of your thighs and his tail twitches in the air behind him.

He slides slowly down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and the faintest marks behind as his mouth slots itself over your arousal and he strokes you eagerly with his talented tongue. He grinds his hips against the mattress to try and relieve the pressure of his throbbing cock, but he doesn’t want to come unless it’s inside you.

Your soul is consumed by fiery lust and it satisfies him in a way no one else’s sin has ever affected him before. He groans your name between soft, sucking kisses and gentle flicks of his tongue against your entrance, and it sends shivers through the rest of your body. His hands hold your shaky thighs steady where they rest on his shoulders, and by the time he drinks down the release you spill across his tongue, you're stretched and ready for him.

You're still reeling from your orgasm when he moves up the bed and positions himself between your legs. He hooks one of your legs against his hips and pushes it up slightly, giving him the perfect angle so he can sheathe himself inside with one smooth stroke.

"I’ll go slow next time, baby, I promise," he murmurs against your lips, lifting his hand to brace himself against the headboard. "But I don’t think I can wait anymore."

He starts fucking you with deep, heavy thrusts, and each one draws a little hiccuped gasp or moan from your lips. He crashes his lips against yours and moans and pants into your mouth. The wooden frame cracks slightly from the pressure of his fingertips and the headboard thumps against the wall, but all you can hear are the strangled groans and curses he muffles into the crook of your neck.

His rhythm picks up speed and his thrusts grow wet and sloppy with his cum when he finally spills inside you with a growl. He tosses his head back and his eyes wince shut from the sensitivity, but he can’t resist the urge to fuck his seed back inside you, not when you writhe helplessly against his sheets and dig your fingers into his back and beg him to keep going.

You’re smothered beneath his body as he stuffs you full with his cum, and his tail coils around the leg wrapped around his waist to hold you in place so he can reach between your bodies and stroke you in time with his desperate thrusts instead.

By the time you come around his cock, you’re both drunk from lust and love and utterly insatiable.

“Don’t stop,” your broken whimpers plead where you press your forehead against his shoulder, and you lave your tongue across his hot, sweaty skin. “Want more of you.”

“I won’t stop, baby,” his raspy voice promises as he rises to his knees and brings your legs up to sit on his shoulders, and he folds you in half so he can fuck you properly. “I can’t.”

KARASU

Karasu uses his wings often, but he rarely shifts into his full demon form. He usually has excellent control over that part of himself, except when he's in bed with you. If things get particularly intense (or if he's in a more dominant/aggressive mood), he might shift to his full form without meaning to. He's so careful with his talons that you might not even realize it at first, unless he clenches the sheets on either side of your head or you catch a glimpse of sharp, black claws before his hand disappears between your legs.

It doesn't take much to get him in the mood. He’s a wonderful contradiction of a demon who accepts your praise or your teasing hints of degradation in equal stride. He’s so easily aroused by the most innocent words or gestures and even the simplest compliments make him feel a little desperate.

Wearing something he bought for you gives him a sudden itch to take it off you again. Wearing something of his means he gets to leave his scent on you in more ways than one by the time he has you on your back or your stomach underneath him.

Sending his D.D.D. dirty messages when he least expects it is almost guaranteed to give him an aching erection no matter where he is or what he’s doing. A flirty text or a suggestive photo that shows him a hint of naked skin is more than enough to leave him panting while his erection stirs to life and presses against the zipper of his pants.

And then there are times when he’s the one trying to entice you to be a little naughty. He sends you filthy texts while you’re at RAD and describes whatever wicked fantasy he dreamt about last night, or he recites in excruciating detail all his dirty thoughts while he fisted his cock that morning.

He calls you and leaves you sweet messages to have a nice day and to think about all the ways he plans on touching you and kissing you and fucking you when he sees you later.

Sometimes you have a bit of free time in your schedule, so perhaps a little visit at his office would do you both some good.

Karasu is so considerate.

It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing. You wake up each morning to a sweet-as-sugar message on your D.D.D., or if you stayed overnight in his nest, he wakes you with a line of sleepy kisses along your shoulder and a soft, "Good morning, dear one," murmured huskily into your ear.

He would argue that caring for you is simple, a natural instinct that stirs inside him to provide for you and make you smile and keep you safe. Your comfort is his utmost priority.

Sometimes that means pushing you away from where you're nuzzling against his aching erection through his suit so he can slide off his jacket. 

"Wait," he asks breathlessly, handing you the bespoke garment that crumples in his twitchy grip like paper. "Sit on this, darling." 

If you're so eager to kneel on his office floor in an eager rush to suck his cock, the least he can do is make sure your knees won't be too sore afterwards.

His stifled whimpers and moans start to fill the office and you've barely touched him; the anticipation of what’s to come is enough to leave him a trembling mess. His fingers clench the armrests of his chair while you flick open his belt and tug down the zipper with a jovial little hum.

The tip of his cock glistens when you tug down his boxer briefs, and he exhales a sharp little whine when you lick at the salty beads oozing slowly from the tip. His chair shakes from the tremor in his thighs, and his hips twitch and jerk restlessly while you lick broad, thick stripes along his shaft before easing him between your lips. He's hot and heavy on your tongue, and you wrap your fingers at his base where his dawny-soft black hair cushions your fist. You pump him slowly, smooth and wet from the spit pooling in your mouth and dripping down his cock, while your head bobs up and down his length in a steady rhythm.

He's so lost in the hot, wet vice of your mouth that he doesn't notice that his glasses slip off the bridge of his nose and clatter or the floor, or that the armrests of his chair are ruined by deep, scraggly lines where his nails scramble to find purchase.

All that matters — all he cares about — is that you don't stop.

"I'm—I'm close," he whines noisily, panting deep in his chest. His back arches away from the chair and he pushes deeper into your mouth, but he stammers out an apology when he realizes what he’s done.

You curl your fingers around the curve of his hip to encourage him to move and to take what he wants from you. He hesitates for a moment, but then a shaky hand rests gently on the crown of your head, not pushing you down but simply holding you there. His fingers twitch helplessly against your scalp as his hips jerk into your mouth and the noises and choked pleas tumbling from his lips grow louder and more desperate.

A loud, monotonous chime from his terminal startles you both, and he whines so pathetically at the interruption. It’s a weekly meeting he forgot about, boring and unnecessary but mandatory, and he nearly curses in frustration.

Voices stream quietly into the room as the program pops up on his monitor. Your shoulders slump slightly with a deflated sigh, but his hand on the back of your head keeps you from moving away. When you shoot him a questioning look, he glances at the screen and back to you again, and he nibbles on his bottom lip while he contemplates his choices.

He should compose himself and bid you farewell until this evening when he's finished work for the day, but that’s easier said than done. You’re still kneeling at his feet, your bright eyes are glassy and wet and dark with desires of your own, and your lips are plump and shiny and so utterly kissable. His abdomen twitches with the disappointment of his interrupted release and he can only imagine how desperate you are, even though you’re hiding your own needs while satisfying his own.

It's not like he ever needs to speak at these meetings anyway, and knowing that, it doesn’t take him long to decide at all.

He confirms his camera is off and he's muted on the call before he pulls gently on the back of your neck and urges your mouth towards his cock again. His spontaneous burst of greedy lust warms the blood in your veins and shoots straight to the spot between your legs. You’re throbbing from your own neglected arousal and it certainly doesn’t help that he lets out the most sinful, desperate moan when you take him back into the wet heat of your mouth.

He cradles the sides of your face gently when you begin moving up and down his cock with renewed vigor. His hips are rocking of their own volition now, shallow and arhythmic but still so needy, and you know he must be close. When you glance up at him from beneath your lashes, he’s utterly entranced by the sight of your fingers pumping his shaft while you suck on the dark, pulsing head of his cock before sliding your lips down his length over and over again.

“I’m so close, please don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—!” His high-pitched whine serves as a warning so that you can move your mouth away if you don’t want his seed in your mouth, but your lover is nothing but considerate, and you reward him by taking him deeper than before, teasing your gag reflex and letting him feel you choke on his cock.

He covers his mouth to muffle himself as he spills down your throat with a sharp gasp and a wailing cry, and your lips drag along his cock one more time as you pull back just to hear him whimper from the sensitivity. He watches with a heavy, half-lidded gaze and swallows hard when you wipe a smear of cum from the corner of your mouth and lick it clean.

He goes completely still for a moment, but then his cock twitches with renewed interest and he pulls you off the floor and into his lap. He breathes your name with utter reverence when he slides his hand into your pants and feels how soaked you are between your legs. His fingers stroke you gently and you let him taste himself when you lean forward and kiss him.

You rock your hips and coax his hand closer to where you want it most while your thighs shake on either side of his hips. Warm puffs of air against the soft skin of your neck makes you shudder in his embrace, and he murmurs sweet praise while he fucks you with his greedy fingers (and his tongue after that, and then his cock when he’s hard again and he finally bends you over his desk).

ZEKHAN

Compared to the others, Zekhan has the most control over his demonic form. Even if he accompanies you to a party at the prince's castle, he's one of the few demons in attendance that hides his demonic appearance. It's very rare that he would shift into it by accident, although a wrath-driven rage could trigger that. 

He doesn't want to use his demonic form in bed with you, at least not right away. It will take a long time before he's comfortable letting you see it. The scars on his body are more prominent in that form and he's self-conscious about them. It's also a bit more animalistic than some of the other demons you know, and he's worried about your reaction to his wings and claws and ears.

He will shift into his true form for certain predator/prey-type games you play together, but he's usually obscured by darkness. That gives you the chance to explore him slowly and at his pace while letting him indulge in the rare sensation of your hands or mouth moving across his body. 

A lot of things turn him on, but he's a bit more disciplined about curbing his impulse to act on it right away. He likes to tease you and let the anticipation build. Sending each other dirty texts while he's at work (or while you're at RAD) are a guaranteed way to stir his interest.

Although he tries to be gentle with you, he's the most feral if you tease him with an opportunity to play one of your little games together. He's happy to indulge you with whatever level of excitement (or fear) you're comfortable with; you're his prize at the end either way, and that's enough to satisfy him.

Once you're in a relationship, Zee realizes his biggest mistake is underestimating you. He knows you'll be attending tonight's bunny event at The Fall for the first time since you arrived in the Devildom. What he doesn't expect is for you to walk through the front doors, surrounded by the Avatars of Sin, in a bunny outfit of your very own.

He can only assume that Azra and Asmodeus conspired to keep this secret from him, and what a lovely secret it is. The bunny ears on your head bend slightly at the ends which gives them a floppy appearance. They would look ridiculous on most people, but on you, they’re positively charming. The colourful jewel-toned ears bounce slightly with each step you take, and the colours suit you so beautifully that it confirms for him that this outfit was custom-made for you.

He spots a flash of white when you turn around to speak to someone, and he realizes there's a little tail attached to the back of your suit too.

Fucking hell.

He tilts his head to the side as he drinks in your appearance and considers all the delightfully wicked things he’d like to do to you. It’s calculating, almost predatory how his golden eyes darken as lust pools behind them. Something primal stirs deep in his chest the longer he stares at you. You're the tasty little treat that's stepped into his domain, and he'd love nothing more than to devour you.

As if you can hear his thoughts, you look around until you catch his piercing stare from across the room; even from that far away, the glint in his eyes is positively hungry. You can’t help but stare doe-eyed as he wets his mouth, running his tongue slowly along his bottom lip and teasing you with the tiniest glimpse of his fangs.

His sensitive hearing picks up your sharp intake of breath, and he smirks at the flustered expression on your face before you concede and finally look away.

He carries on with overseeing the final preparations like nothing happened while you walk away with the others and head further into the club. A chilly sensation spreads through him that he can only describe as longing when you finally step out of his view, but he ignores the feeling for now.

Besides, the evening is just getting started.

ZEKHAN: I came to visit you on your break but you're not resting with the others. Where are you hiding, bunny?

YOU: Come find me and you'll see. 🐰

ZEKHAN: A tempting offer.

ZEKHAN: Beloved, I'm asking you sincerely.

ZEKHAN: Do you want to play that game right now?

YOU: Yes I do.

YOU: Please? I know you do too.

ZEKHAN: Such a naughty thing.

ZEKHAN: Very well. Stay where you are, hm? 

YOU: If you don't hurry, I might finish before you get here.

There are several places in the club you can hide from him. He’s shown you most of them himself when he originally gave you a tour when you were a new arrival to the Devildom. Later on, he realized how convenient they were when he was desperate to fuck you somewhere you wouldn’t get caught.

This particular game requires a certain amount of privacy and space. He searches the obvious locations first - the staff break rooms, the mostly-empty offices on the second floor, the cluster of private rooms patrons can rent for the evening - but finds no trace of you or those floppy ears or that cottony-soft tail.

When he finally picks up the faintest whiff of your scent near the door that leads to the basement, he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. Of course you’re clever enough to lead him somewhere cool and dark where there’s very little risk of being interrupted.

There's only a sliver of moonlight that shines through one of the tiny windows near the basement ceiling. It only takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, and he groans when he finally spots you leaning against the wall across from him. The buttons of your shirt are undone and he can see the strip of naked skin where it falls open. He notices a moment later that one of your hands is under the waistband of your pants and he can hear and smell the scent of your arousal as you stroke lazily between your legs.

A soft sigh falls from your lips and makes his mouth run dry. Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze at last, and it’s so satisfying to see the desire swirling in your dark eyes is strong enough to match his own.

He crosses the room in an instant and there's a faint gust of air as his wings manifest and open wide with a leathery snap. He maneuvers you quickly as if you weigh nothing and bends you over a rickety old table, yanking your tedious clothes down and out of the way until he can finally touch your bare skin with his clawed fingers.

You stare transfixed at the monstrous shadow on the wall as he stretches you open with his thick fingers first, carefully so he doesn’t scratch you, and then his cock once you’re slippery with his spit and lube. His lips brush against your temple and behind your ear, littering your skin with soft kisses while you adjust to the feeling of him stretching you open. His hips rock in a slow grind until you're ready and then he moves slowly at first, thrusting inside you with slow strokes that slowly gather speed with every desperate, whiny moan that he pulls from your throat.

He makes a questioning sound when you reach over your shoulder and offer him your fingers, still sticky from when you touched yourself earlier, and he sucks them eagerly into his mouth with a growl as he starts fucking you in earnest. Your fingers slip from his mouth once he's licked them clean, and he traps them gently between his teeth before you can pull them away completely.

His pace quickens and his thrusts grow more forceful when you push your hips back and match his rhythm. One of your hands ends up tangled in his hair while your back arches against his chest, and he breathes hot and damp against the back of your neck and grunts in your ear.

You can barely hear the obscene squelch your bodies make as he fucks you senseless, or the creak of the wobbly furniture supporting your combined weight, or the scratching sound of his fingers digging into the wood for leverage.

Your body clenches around him and when he feels his orgasm approaching, he reaches between your legs and strokes you in time with his thrusts; you finally come with a cry, and he follows behind you with a raspy groan of your name. He fucks you through the aftershocks of your pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts and finally stops once you've milked him dry. His body shakes from the overstimulation of fucking his cum back inside you.

By the time your thighs stop trembling and he turns you in his arms, all evidence of his demon form is gone; only the slight pulsing glow of his golden-yellow eyes remains. He kisses you softly with just a hint of tongue and teeth while you both sigh into each others’ mouths.

As always, he came prepared. He reaches into his suit jacket and slips his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose first before he pulls out a small packet of wet wipes. He kisses your thighs and nips playfully at the sensitive skin while he wipes the slick and cum away; he’s satisfied you’ll still smell like him but now you can finish the evening more comfortably.

He straightens your clothes for you and as he buttons up your shirt, he leans forward and kisses the bare skin that slowly disappears from view. One more kiss and a murmured I love you is all you have time for before he leads you back upstairs, and he smirks when you walk away with the slightest hitch in your step.

(You're only a few minutes late returning from your break, but no one bothers to ask where you were - they can already guess.)

A more intense version of this little game involves waiting until the event is over and taking a short drive to the outskirts of the city.

The quiet anticipation in the car is nearly suffocating, and Zee glances at you with a guarded look from the corner of his eye. He drives one-handed and steers the car expertly to your destination while the other rests on your thigh; it feels like a fiery-hot brand through your clothes.

He seems unaffected by the lust radiating off both of you like a fog, but the tips of his fangs peek underneath the hungry curl of his lips. When you glance down at his lap, there’s a growing wet stain where his hard and eager cock strains against his pants.

The location he takes you to is a large patch of forest at the back of Azra's estate. It's far enough away to give you both the privacy you need, but it’s close enough that help is nearby if anything goes wrong. The area is scouted regularly to make sure there are no dangerous creatures lurking inside the woods that might harm you while you’re alone and vulnerable.

Zee drives the car to the end of the dirt road that ends near the tree line. He exhales sharply through his nose and puts his glasses in the glove compartment before getting out of the car and walking around the vehicle to help you out of your seat.

He’s usually sweet and affectionate before these types of games, but tonight he rests his hands on your shoulders to keep you from stepping too close to him.

"I love you." His voice is rough but his eyes burn with the steady glow of his body overcome with sin, and you learned how to read the emotions in his gaze by now: love, desire, hunger.

"I love you too."

His hands slide up your neck and brush the sides of your face. "Colour?" he asks quietly. His thumbs rub soft circles into the dimples of your cheeks when you smile.

"Green."

Something in the air shifts, like cool air roiling over you before a storm, and he circles you slowly - the way a predator would - until he stands at your back. There's a familiar ruffle of fabric and leather behind you, then he smooths his hands gently over your shoulders. A clawed wing curls around the side of your body and strokes your cheek with surprising tenderness.

"Time to run, bunny." Hot breath tickles your ear when he leans forward and kisses the words into your skin. "Don’t stop and don’t look back."

The growl in his voice causes goosebumps to break out across your skin and you freeze. Normally he waits for you to make it to the woods before he changes form but so many things about tonight are different.

What does it say about how much he trusts you that he would do it so soon?

And what does it say about how uncontrollably desperate he is for you?

But you don’t have time to contemplate the answers to either of those questions, not when feet shuffle behind you in restless anticipation. 

You take one hesitant step forward, and then another, until you're running into the dark forest that welcomes you into its maw. The trees looming overhead block most of the moonlight and you slow down while your eyesight adjusts. Your D.D.D. is in your pocket, but illuminating your path with the flashlight would be cheating; it’s also a visual signal to him that you want the game to end, and it’s far too soon for that.

The branches high above your head rustle in the night's cool breeze and ambient noises of the forest echo all around you. You can’t be sure how long it’s been, but it’s curious that you've not seen or heard any sign of him behind you. Sometimes he likes to call out to you teasingly, goading you into some sort of response that will lead him closer to your position. He can be so mischievous and playful when he brings you here, but tonight the tension of his unusual behaviour settles uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach.

You recall how stiff he was earlier, how restless he was like he couldn’t wait to sink his cock or his teeth into you. You remember the rumbling growls in his chest on the drive here, the way his hand shook on your thigh. You realize he’s not patient enough to play a drawn-out game tonight, and the implication is terrifying and arousing in equal measure.

The forest might be safe for you to venture in alone, but there are still other creatures that live here. Small Devildom rodents skitter across the ground and up into the trees. Birds with unfamiliar hoots and caws watch you from above with their strange, unblinking eyes. The occasional snap of a branch or the sudden rustle of leaves startles you like thunder; the sounds carry on the wind and it's impossible to pinpoint where they're coming from.

You shriek more than once when you spin around and look for a pair of golden eyes peering at you from the darkness, but there’s nothing there despite the heavy sensation of a weighted gaze searing into your back the moment you turn around again.

A sudden, startlingly loud crash nearby rips a scream from your throat and your eyes catch movement in your peripheral view. When you squint into the distance, you can see a splintering branch hanging precariously from one of the tall trees before it drops to the ground.

Was the branch already damaged and it finally gave way on its own?

Or was it broken by the weight of something stalking its prey from high above?

You carefully step back away from the tree as if you expect something - or someone - to jump out at you from the undergrowth, but nothing happens.

You stumble into something warm and solid behind you and strong arms wrap around you to keep you from falling, and a hoarse scream dies in your throat when he covers your mouth with his hand.

So this is how the game finally ends.

He utters your name in a raspy whisper close to your ear; his voice sounds as rough as yours does. Tears slip from the corners of your eyes when you sag against him, even though adrenaline and fear slowly fade from your still-trembling body.

"You did so well." His praise soothes your rattled nerves and you lean further back against him. His hand slides away from your mouth until it rests above your hammering heartbeat.

His skin feels feverishly hot against your back and he’s slightly damp with sweat. You’re lost in the cloud of his scent, one that's so perfectly him, something fresh and earthy like wet leaves after a thunderstorm.

"Zee." His name is a broken whimper that falls from your lips. His other hand slides down your front and his fingers tease along your waist before dipping down into your pants. He curses under his breath when he feels the hot, slick proof of your arousal between your legs.

"Colour," he grits out, a strangled plea that betrays the desire coursing through him. 

"G-green, please, green," you answer with a hiccup.

He removes his hand from your pants so he can push you to your hands and knees on the forest floor. He shushes you when you whine at the loss of his fingers and he drapes himself over your back, a move that feels protective as much as it does possessive, and he buries his nose in the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep and savours the scent of your sweat and perfume and arousal and fear on his tongue, and his hips jerk and grind his erection against the swell of your ass.

"Want you," you whine pathetically when you wiggle your hips back and encourage him to give you more.

"I'm here.” The tremor in his voice betrays his fraying self-control but his promise sounds sincere. "You have me."

Hot, open-mouthed kisses sear across the back of your neck and along your jaw as he grasps your chin and tilts your face towards his. You can't see him through the watery sheen that pools along your lashes, but you catch a glimpse of his lust-darkened eyes and the bulky shape of his wingspan at his back. When his mouth presses against yours, it's less of a kiss and more of a desperate glide of tongue-against-tongue between deep, shuddering breaths and needy moans.

"You're so perfect," he whispers thickly as he pulls away from your mouth and flicks his tongue against your ear. He braces himself with one clawed hand digging into the earth while the other tears at the front of your shirt. Buttons pop from the seams as the flimsy fabric gives way to his sharp nails and inhuman strength.

He leans back on his knees with a shuddered sigh as he rips the fabric away and exposes your bare back to him. He rubs up and down the grooves of your spine and trails his fingers over the curve of your hips. "You’re so, so lovely like this. Fuck, the things I want to do to you."

You rest your cheek on your arms when he pushes your chest down and encourages your back to curve into a deeper arch. Firm hands grip the sides of your pants next and tear them away next, followed by your flimsy underwear. The cool night air chills your bare skin until he leans over you and warms your body with his own.

You’re utterly trapped beneath him, naked and vulnerable in a way that should fill you with shame or fear, but his words are genuine and his touch is gentle. 

Perhaps this little tease would go on a little longer, but you know he’s already testing the limits of his self-control and you don’t want to wait anymore either.

You’ve wanted this all night, and you need him now, desperately.

“Show me then. I want you to, please.”

You squirm with anticipation when he lets out a rumbling growl close to your ear. Something hot and heavy, slick with a generous layer of lube, moves between your legs and nudges at your entrance with the faintest bit of pressure. The tip of his cock teases you with shallow dips as he stretches you open slowly, each stroke sliding in deeper, inch by agonizing inch. He teases the sensitive spot inside you until he finally buries himself to the hilt with a snarl, and you answer with a startled cry as the pulsing emptiness inside is deliciously filled by him.

“I’ll give you everything you want,” he promises darkly as he starts moving at a brutal pace, and his clawed fingers dig into your hips and pull you down onto his cock to meet each of his deep, perfect thrusts. “Now take it.”

Azra has a vague idea of what happens when Zee takes you to the forest behind his house. He doesn't need or want the details as long as you're both happy and unharmed. However, it takes him far too long to notice that your visits to the woods coincide with certain parties at The Fall, and he's genuinely confused as he looks over preparations for the upcoming bunny event.

"Wait, we had to buy another bunny outfit?" he asks, rubbing the back of his neck as he reads over the invoice in his hands. "What happened to the other one? The last event was only a month ago.” Now that he thinks about it, he vaguely recalls ordering a new uniform for you then, too. "This must be the third one we've replaced by now."

Zee pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a hum. "The fourth, actually. If it helps, I still have the bunny ear headbands." His lips twitch into a remorseful smile, but the gleam in his eyes is far too pleased for his apology to be sincere. "Unfortunately, the rest was...unsalvageable."

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[thefrontmanscockwarmer]

Desire (part 1)

Player 001 x Reader📖

Masterlist <- Comment on this post to be added to the tag list

Note: Takes place during Season 1, you were a finalist along with Sang-Woo. In this, Gi-Hun does not exist (protecting cannon and the time line in my other stories).

Tw: blood, death, a scene where reader is fighting their final competitor.

You stood at the summit of the game, knowing the only thing that stood in front of you was nothing but a man, nothing but an object. You didn’t care that he was breathing, living, existing, you were here to win. You wanted money. It was obvious from the very beginning, it was you or them. Your tux was soaked now, as it began raining. Not hesitating, you pulled the knife from your sock.

“You’re that weak you already pulled the knife?” The other player taunted from the outside.

“No” you laughed. “It’s just, it’s you or me. You see, human life means nothing to me. The only one that matters is mine, yours?” You paused, deciding on what words to say. “You’re just a paperweight, keeping my money down so it doesn’t float away, but when I pick up the paperweight, the money flies away.”

“And you think I’m gonna let you just walk away with that money?” He snarls. In Ho watched from beside the VIPs.

“What is going on down there?” One of them asked.

“What is happening on the play field?” In Ho radioed it in.

“Player 456 is going to kill him. Sir, she called him a paperweight” In Ho held in his laughter. Thats my girl he thought. He couldn’t deny, he’d been rooting for you since he saw you, ecstatic when you made it to the finals. You were absolutely gorgeous. You (h/c) hair, your deathly (e/c). You were a true killer at heart, and he knew it. You’d be great for the games.

“Oh shit, she called him a paperweight” one of the VIPs said, following it with a bunch of ‘Ooo’s’ like they were 10 year old kids at the lunch table in the middle of a ‘Yo mama’ battle.

“tell him to turn on the voice feedback, I wanna hear it all. This is interesting” another VIP said. In Ho radioed it in.

“No, I dont think you’re gonna let me walk off with that money, dumbass.” You rolled your eyes. Though, not visible because you were squinting to keep water from getting in your eyes. “That’s why I’m just going to kill you and take it.”

“That’s not playing fair” he said as he pulled his own knife from his pocket.

“No one said this was a fair mans game, Sang Woo” you declare loudly. “This is a game that only the best of the best can survive. Why do you think I’ve made it so far? Because I’m the best”

“Then what does that make me?” He asked closing in on you. An alarm rang in his head as he realized you didn’t back away. Scaring you wasn’t going to work.

“Collateral” you say, taking a quick few steps and taking a swipe at him. Managing to cut his arm. He missed his one opportunity to hit you as you passed him. You stood far from him. In a single instance, he ran towards you, you began running towards him. His arm cocked back told you what he was going to do before he did it, you quickly dropped and slid on the gravel, slicing his ankle, cutting him deeply. Leaving him on the floor. Blood pooling around his injured foot. It wasn’t until you turned that you saw your blood was dripping down your nose, he got your eye. You struggled to see out of your right eye. You were pissed.

“I’m not collateral if you can’t see, (y/n)” he laughed as he tried to stand. Successfully making it to his feet. You wiped blood off your face, ignoring the pain you felt in it.

“That’s true, but you can barely walk. You see, Sang Woo, I know I called you a paperweight, but, you’re less than that. You are nothing more than an incompetent fool. You’re nothing of value anymore, useless. Paperweights have value and use, you have neither.” You tell him as you approach him, ducking his hands as the swiped around trying to slice you. You jammed your knife into his body, helping him kneel before you. His knife dropping to the floor as he reached to his new wound.

“You’re a monster” he told you. You ripped your knife from him. Pulling it back and wiping it on his shirt.

“No, Sang Woo, I’m better than a monster” you said calmly. “I’m a demon” you said slicing his throat. Watching as he rushed his hands up to his neck together. You kicked in his chest, watching him fall back. You turned towards the window where the VIPs watched. You bowed. In Ho bowed back, not that you could see, but he was signifying his respect for you. You truly were made for the games, engineered by the worst of the worst to be the best. You were made for him. The guards declared you the winner, but you already knew that.

“Holy shit! That was crazy!” A VIP said aloud. “She was heartless”

“No, you saw the way she kicked him back as he was trying to hold his head. That was insane” a third one spoke.

“No it was the calling him collateral” another voiced. In Ho silently left the guests to attend to you.

Being ushered to the doctor to close up that wound on your eye, a square walked in just as you were denying an eye patch.

“The Front Man would like to formally congratulate you. Please follow me and join him for dinner and a meeting.” You hopped off of the table and followed him. Snatching the eye patch before disappearing around the corner. You were led into a big black and gold room. A man in black stood in the center.

“(Y/n), I am The Front Man, the boss of the games” he spoke. “I would like to formally congratulate congratulate you on your victory against Sang Woo” he offered his hand, which you took.

“Thank you, sir” he smelt good, like expensive bourbon and leather. His voice was velvety and thick, satisfying your ears. You couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like under those clothes. What did his face look like?

“I’d like to invite you to dinner, as a gesture of my appreciation of you playing the games, and as a token of my being in awe of your performance on the game floor.”

“Will I get clean clothes?” You ask as you remembered yours were still soaked.

“Yes, of course. Black or gold?” he pointed to two long silk dresses that sat on his bed, each accompanied with two different pairs of shoes to wear for each dress.

“What color will you be wearing?” You ask slyly.

“Black.”

“I will wear gold to compliment you as your guest, black heels please” you said.

“Please feel free to use my quarters to get cleaned up. Anything else?”

“Make up”

“Already provided, and everything you may need for your hair.” He said.

Time skip: you stood in front of the mirror, putting on a pair of gold earrings. A gift, rushed onto the island after your victory, along with many things”. He knocked on the door, standing in an all black tux, complete with a gold neck tie.

Tag list

@christinamadsen @sebbymybaby21 @nakiio5775 @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[dark-dragon-8]

Me writing a fic planner for my Supernatural fic series/AU and it slowly turning into a "try and keep as many of the characters you like and/or need for the plot to get where you want it to without it being too OOC and/or nonsensical all while still keeping your current ongoing plot relevant and have it make sense" challenge

Because ISTG people are dying 𝘸𝘢𝘺 too often in this show. I had to get creative with Sam's reactions and power limitations just to keep Crowley alive during that one scene Dean tried to kill him when they both first met him.

I had to give Sam a fucking aftershock from Dick Roman exploding so that he won't kill Crowley right then and there.

I know I'll need to find a way to keep Rowena and Charlie alive at some point in the future because they'll be killed off later on in the show and I can't have that.

I'll have to somehow keep Death alive (haha) too because I love him too much to let him go.

The only characters I plan on keeping dead so far are Bobby, Meg, John and everyone else who died in earlier seasons (besides maybe Jessica, but that's just because she's not as close to Sam in this AU)

Ellen and Jo will still be alive, though, since I'm not leaving the boys without a support system. Downside is that the two of them will be experiencing the death of their husband/father (respectively) all over again.

I'm keeping Balthazar alive too because I 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 Castiel to still have some sort of loyal subordinate/connection to Heaven.

At least Dean doesn't kill anyone (important), not yet at least (I just finished season 7) hopefully it stays that way because that man is pretty much the only one I don't have to keep on monitoring 24/7. He's honestly the most chill person in my fic when it comes to killing off plot devices, which is hilarious because I plan on making him a sadistic half demon that's kind of like the Antichrist once he gets the Mark of Cain (which was surprisingly the easiest plot twist I had to write, thanks to how I saw his demon self has been written, I swear he's the only one not killing everyone else around him just because).

I'm currently holding on by a thread of "Sam believing he's impure and therefore doesn't use his powers often" logic while also applying a good amount of "Sam uses his power in every single scenario in which he thinks Dean might be in danger" logic. It's a very stressful road and I swear to Chuck, if I didn't have an ending in mind, everyone would've been dead except for the (good) humans, and Sam would have been the culprit, maybe Castiel too, and Dean would've been surprisingly innocent (I know, it baffles me too).

I just realized, as I was writing this that maybe I just need Crowley to chill, but I can't write that because that would be character assassination of the highest degree (Crowley is a sassy drama queen and I'd rather die than take that away from him)

[theamazingmaddyas]

Look, I love The Sun and The Star as much as the next person; as someone who's written and consumed Solangelo media for years, but also loves comparing fics and headcanons to canon, the fact that I could get confirmation about whether headcanons of mine could possibly line up with the author's was amazing.

That being said, one super minor detail that has irked me since I bought the digital version of The Sword of Hades despite having a physical copy in The Demigod Files just so I could read the preview of the first chapter is what happened to the year rounders from the Hidden Oracle.

While we can't get tons of information on every minor character because the books would be miles long, but every character has their own story, even if we can't see it. Chiron says in TSATS that demigods probably want to see the world, especially after the few years they had, but if they've stayed at camp for a while, do they have a place to go? Do they have somewhere to live outside camp?

With this in thought, and more, I give you; my headcanons for what every single minor demigod at CHB in TOA is doing during the events of TSATS:

Note: I'm skipping Will, Nico, Austin, and Kayla as we know where they are as TSATS states it explicitly.

Billie Ng — Aeithales

Aeithales, for those who aren't great with place names, is the name of Philip McCaffrey's botany research facility that Meg refurbished for herself, the nymphs from the greenhouse, the Meliai, the children from Nero's army, Lu, and Herophile. It doesn't seem completely out there to believe that Meg invited her sibling(s) who don't have mortal families, whether because they're deceased or they don't get along, to live with her. Especially since Meg is working to restore Aeithales to it's former glory.

I hc she's about 14, so she'd probably attend the local high school with the older Nero adoptees.

Miranda Gardiner — College

While Miranda's age is not known, I personally believe she's around the same age as Percy. [I have no sound evidence for this, besides the fact that I believe Katie is the same age as Travis (because Tratie, a staple ship) and Travis attends college a year before Percy (as he is there in THO) and as Miranda is most probably Katie's second in command (because Miranda is said to be counselor in TLH instead of Katie, it can be assumed that Katie is a summer camper and therefore Miranda is in charge when she's not around. Like Malcolm for Annabeth or Sherman for Clarisse) I think she's a little bit younger than her, assuming that they were similar ages when they first attended camp.] which would put Miranda as a freshman in college during TSATS as Percy and Annabeth are freshman.

I personally believe Miranda would attend college, probably majoring in something agricultural or environmental.

Sherman Yang — College

Due to the fact that Sherman and Miranda are dating, I have come to the conclusion that Sherman is a similar age to Miranda. Now, whether he's attending the same school as his girlfriend or not, I'm not sure, but I feel in my bones that Sherman would go to college for kinesiology or exercise science.

Ellis Wakefield — High School in Arizona

Ellis was the hardest for no reason, because I hc he's younger than Sherman by a year or two, meaning he's not at college age yet (I do think he wants to attend college though), but rather a senior in high school, and then I thought, Clarisse would absolutely take in one of her siblings if she realizes that they'd be the only Ares kid at camp.

He lives in a small apartment just off campus of the University of Arizona with Clarisse and Chris, who are starting their sophomore year, and attends a local high school near by.

I have no proof for this, but I feel in my heart that he plays baseball and Clarisse and Chris go to every game, and Clarisse almost gets kicked out multiple times for yelling at the umpire. Also, Sherman comes every so often, and that's when things get really crazy and he and Clarisse do, in fact, get kicked out, leaving a really awkward Chris alone in the stands.

Malcolm Pace — SODNYC

Following in his older sister's footsteps, I hc that Malcolm goes to the School of Design Annabeth attends in COTG and WOTTG for his senior year. I personally hc he's a year younger than Annabeth, which would put him at like 17, so he'd live in the dorms there for a year before moving to a college to study architecture (since battle strategy isn't a major, lol)

Harley — Waystation

I have talked about this quite a bit, both on here and on ao3 through my fics, but Harley's adopted by Jo and Emmie and him and Georgina are best friends.

Honestly, Harley's the main reason I've become obsessed with finding out where every minor character is, because if any demigod deserves a fleshed out backstory, it's Harley.

He's eight in THO. Eight! And he's already been at camp for over a year since he's also in TLH. And because TLH mentions no new Hephaestus campers before Leo have arrived in a hot minute because of the curse, we can infer he's been at camp for at minimum, a year and a half by TOA, which means he arrived at, maximum, seven (or seven and a half if he turns 9 right after Apollo leaves camp). And the first series drills it in our head that Annabeth is an anomaly for coming to camp so young, so Harley, not only being a camper, but a year rounder, probably means he doesn't have a mortal family. (I wrote my own version of Harley's backstory, with this hc on ao3, called Wanting to Feel Safe) so yeah! Also, Harley and Leo are very close (see, the entirty of THO) so when Leo finds a family willing to take him in, his little brother isn't too far behind.

Harley's in third grade, is a math wiz, but struggles with spelling. He's also in the same class as Georgie.

Nyssa Barrara — Waystation

You think Leo's leaving Nyssa behind while taking Harley? Think again. I personally believe Nyssa's probably a year or two younger than Leo, which would put her at around her sophomore or junior year of high school, and she probably attends the same school as Leo and Calypso.

Valentina Diaz — BAG

For those who aren't The Kane Chronicles fans (go read them, they're amazing) Drew and Lacy both make an appearance as they attend Brooklyn Academy for the Gifted with Sadie Kane. I like to think that Val joins her sisters at the school studying fashion history (as she shows an interest in it in CHB Confidentials) (Lacy studies fashion design and Drew theater, source: me) and that she stays with Lacy and her father so she can attend school. She still goes to visit camp during holidays along with Lacy and Drew (as we see them at camp during winter break in TLH).

The reason she's not at BAG in TOA with them is because she found out she was a demigod only right after the war and therefore didn't have time to fill out the application to attend.

Connor Stoll — College

Connor and Travis are reunited in college once more! Yay!

I think Connor's studying linguistics, which Travis is studying business administration (though he's a sophomore already)

Cecil Markowitz — hanging with Lou Ellen Blackstone

Source: I made it myself.

As I hc Cecil being around the same age as Will (who's 15/16), he's not old enough to go away to college, or begin adulting like some of the others, so why not stay with his best friend?

They send Will letters in the mail all the time because Will, Cecil, & Lou friend group supremecy.

I also hc that Cecil is the boy that Hermes mentions from Wisconsin that Hermes has Percy promise to bring to camp, though that doesn't really affect where he's ending up.

Alice Miyazawa — her family

I hc that Alice's relationship with her family is strained because of her being more of a "troubled" kid (I also hc she has kleptomania) so that's why she's at camp year round in THO.

So, I think she's going to try with her family again.

Also, I hc that Alice (and Julia) are the two girls from Los Angelos that Hermes mentions to Percy in TLO so her family's in California.

Julia Feingold — with Alice's family

See previous note about Alice and Julia being the two girls from L.A.

Alice wouldn't try with her family again if Julia wasn't there, because they've been attached at the hip since they met at juvie in L.A. as kids, so Julia goes with her.

Damien White — Working

Chiara is stated to be about 18, and her and Damien are probably in a relationship, so it's not too off base to believe that Damien is probably around 17 or 18.

I don't think Damien decides to go to college (maybe later but I doubt it), so he decides to just go and join the job force as he's legally an adult now. What job? I dunno. He's in a union though, I can feel it in my bones.

Also, a little off topic but Apollo saying he didn't know if he wanted to steal Chiara from Damien or Damien from Chiara lives rent free in my head.

Holly Victor— Boarding School

Holly and Laurel are the only two who Chiron had a hand in them not being year rounders, because they're a lot. He's been training for thousands of years, he needs a break too.

So, I hc that Chiron enrolled them in a boarding school so they could quench that competitive spirit of theirs.

I think they're about 13 or 14, so they're either in eighth grade or a freshman in high school.

Laurel Victor — Boarding School

*see above*

But also, I think Holly and Laurel joined every single sports team they could do, and Nike showed up to watch one of their games and got thrown out for trying to fight the ref on a bad call.

Paolo Montes — College in Brazil

While Rick hasn't confirmed this, I am quite positive that Paolo was on summer break when THO takes place, and that's why he's not mentioned in TON and TSATS, because he's back in Brazil.

I hc him around 18, so he's probably in his first year of college.

Chiara Benvenuti — College

Chiara's the only one we get an exact age for—around 18—so it makes sense for her to have left camp.

I think she's studying something to do with Lit, though whether English or Italian, I'm not sure. It's just a gut feeling. And is she somewhere near Damien? Well that's also up in the air.

So, that's everyone at camp in THO and what I think they're doing. I would love it if Rick Riordan confirmed or denied these in TSATS sequel, but I have the habit of convincing myself something is so obvious and will be mentioned in the book, and then it never is, so I'm not hopeful for my own sanity.

[spnbangbang]

Natural Born Sinner

Author: GhoulsnHalos

Artist: sidewinder

Primary Ship: Cas/Meg

Other Ships: One-sided Destiel implied

Length: 15,500

Warnings: None

Tags: Canon Divergent; Episode 08:13 Goodbye Stranger; Castiel is in love with Dean & Meg; Hurt/Comfort; Meg lives

Posting Date: November 5, 2024

Summary The Angel Tablet is calling Castiel, asking him to keep it safe. Naomi believes it belongs in Heaven. Crowley wants to get his hands on it. The Winchesters tell him it will be safest with them. What is Castiel to do?

Things get more complicated when Castiel, Dean, and Sam discover which one of Lucifer's old supporters Crowley has kept captive and been torturing—it’s Meg.

As tensions rise and Castiel has to navigate his way through this dilemma, he comes to a startling realization. One that only magnifies his problem by a considerable amount. It's not news to him that he is hopelessly in love with the unavailable Dean Winchester. He's known that almost since the moment he raised the Righteous Man from Hell. No, what strikes Castiel now is that he is in love with someone else, too, and that might have something to do with the Pizza Man.

A fix-it of Episode 08:13 Goodbye Stranger. Or what might have happened had Castiel rescued Meg when he ran off with the Angel Tablet. Excerpt “Be here with me right now in this room, Meg. Don’t hide from me.” Castiel brushes a strand of blonde hair back off Meg’s face.

She doesn’t raise her eyes, so Castiel hooks a finger under her chin and tilts her face up.

“There you are.”

The discomfort is evident on Meg’s face, not physical pain. That must still be there because Castiel won’t heal Meg’s human form without her permission, and they’ve not discussed that yet. In fact, they’ve barely said a word to each other since Castiel flew them away from the crypt. What’s causing Meg distress is embarrassment in her demonic form. “I didn’t need a hero.”

“I’m not one. But you didn’t deserve to die—not at Crowley’s hands.”

Meg shifts back on the bed until she’s out of easy reach. “I’m gonna ask again, Clarence. Why are you so sweet on me? The truth. What do you see in a snarky, twisted, creature from the pits, a devotee of the first of the fallen that you left Dean-o, the Righteous Man, in that crypt and took me with you and that thing?”

And there it is. The opening Castiel both wants and dreads. As many others have asked over eons: what is truth? Castiel no longer believes there is one truth. Perhaps he never did and that’s why he’s undergone factory reset after factory reset by Heaven because he’s followed what not the single truth his superior angels told him about it always being God’s will that he do what they commanded but sought what he thought was the truth in a situation and acted in a way that would bring about the best result. Sure, he’s got it wrong several times but at least he tried, or that’s what he keeps telling himself. See that’s why he’s here with Meg not with the Winchesters. He’s doing what he believes is the right thing.

“We aren’t so dissimilar. You said so yourself, you do some good even as a demon and although people seem to think angels are on eth side of good and light, well not only have my brothers and sisters screwed the pooch many times—I’m not a great example. Maybe I have more similarities with Lucifer than I have ever cared to see.”

Meg considers this for a minute, mouth pursed and fingers drumming on the comforter. The she gives a one-shouldered shrug. “I see your point. But you still ducked my question. Come on, tell me.”

There’s a pause during which Castiel wrestles with whether he can tell her of the spark of beauty he sees at the centre of her being.

[multifandomgoofygoober]

Satoru Gojo with a lesbian best friend

Hey there! This is my first ever posted piece of writing and I’m starting off with a random thought that has been in my brain for 3 DAYS-

anyway, call me AGG or AGGIE if you want so.. enjoy :D

warnings: minor hidden inventory arc spoilers, pedophile joke, tiny bit of cursing

TEEN GOJO: •Ok so, Gojo as your best friend.. AND BEING LESBIAN is a total feat-

•You 2 would probably meet by him hitting on you and you’re just over here like; 🧍‍♀️

•Once the fact that you like girls click to his mind, he’ll want to become friends with you cuz teen Gojo was just a lil’ silly guy, yk? :D

•All of his fangirls would most likely get the wrong idea and think you’re his girlfriend or something

•You know that one scene where Gojo changed his lock screen to Inoue Waka?

•Yup. The moment Gojo said “Isn’t she hot?” I BET YOU LOOKED OVER TO SEE WHO IT WAS yes, I watched dub.

•He would most likely tease you with Geto when your crush walked by.

•Gojo would probably ask you for girl advice and you would ask him back.

•Now you guys are going through a chalkboard all about girls and crushes to see all the possible outcomes of asking them out.

•He would probably sit with you in silence but try to lighten the mood by saying “Found any new girls yet?”

•Gojo is definitely going to make several jokes about you liking Shoko, Mei mei, and even Utahime-

•Whenever you talk to a girl you like, he would most likely start playing some romantic music to embarrass you

•The thing he would stoop down low to is while meeting Riko, he would say “Woah there Y/n! We can’t have a pedophile near the kid!”

•*Cue Geto scolding Gojo for saying that IN FRONT of Riko*

ADULT GOJO:

•He would definitely still pull the pedophile joke in front of his students

•Yuji and Nobara FLIP when they find out you liked girls

•ofc Megs knew cuz Gojo begged you to help out with Megumi and Tsumiki years ago

•Once you find out about the Jogo and Gojo fight, you immediately have the urge to ask him “So.. you’re gay now?”

•He’d probably answer with “So.. you’re still single?” or “Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.”

•But let’s say you actually a girlfriend..

•HE IS SPILLING TEA WITH THE 1 YEARS AND THE 2ND YEARS ASAP😭

•Now, you have teenagers begging to meet your girlfriend.

•If you ever break up with her, then expect Gojo to either barge into your house with a TON sweets

•”sigh.. I always knew you were gonna stay single!”

•During the reunion with Geto and shit, he would just drop the bomb on you and say “You still single? Seems like girls just aren’t into you.” JUST TO PISS YOU OFF AND EXPOSE YOU IN FRONT OF THE 2ND YEARS😨 cuz he’s just that kind of bitch

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: Wow, that was kinda short but it was all I could think of! Hope you enjoyed! My requests are always open! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[cozzzynook]

Hi!! Love all your asks and writing it’s so good and hit all the amazing headcannons I love

May I request something for Megatron finding a long lost adult son, who shares Megatron’s interests, but behaviour wise is a lot more like Rodimus?

Thank you!

Thank you so much 😭

-

Megatron finding a long lost adult son that looks exactly like him in every single way but frame color would shock the pits out of him.

The large mech is literally his size and frame type which isn’t often as one would think.

The mech doesn’t act a thing like him either.

Acts completely like Rodimus and sounds like a mix between the two down to the low and high frequency of his vocals. Not to mention his extraverted personality as he charms a crowd with ease without being an aft in the process.

The mech left him speechless as he followed him quietly for an entire day just seeing how the mech lives and what he does for a living.

The mech is a medic of all things. Something he wanted to be before the war broke out when he was still a miner. The mech acted kind just as Rodimus did but he didn’t have Rodimus smile. No. Rodimus smile was bright and opened ones spark to the sun. This smile was, different, familiar. It was like looking in a mirror.

The mech had a smile like his own.

It was enough to make him have to sit down in his hiding place as he watched on completely speechless with an open intake.

The mechs name was Megorune (meh-goh-rune) a fitting name even if it felt a bit odd. He did a quick search of what the name meant and found it was an old name hidden in the culture files. It was a name mixed of Kaon and Nyon origins.

The shock he felt at seeing the old inscriptions of his home and the home of Rodimus, he just knew.

Looking at the mech was proof enough but seeing the designation inscription and the meaning behind it.

He just knew.

To rise from the mountains pain.

An old story he once told the mech formally named Hot rod who became Rodimus.

His Rodimus.

He’d gotten sparked during the war and left to have their sparkling who stood before him searching the archives still for an old book that he once enjoyed reading as a young spark.

This mech before him, the mech who held all the books and poetry he once read so many many years ago, with the same eager light in his optics that he once held, was his son.

A son Rodimus had and raised alone during the war.

A son he endangered because of his need for power and fall to madness.

A son Rodimus did well raising and did right keeping him far from him.

This was his son.

His boy who shared the cna of himself and the mech his spark could not do without.

He had a son.

He was standing right in front of him looking concerned because a stranger who looked just like him was standing in shock staring at him.

“Megorune? Megorune did you find the book you wanted?”

That voice…

“Megorune?”

Rodimus cane from around a corner, optics focused solely on their son with concern until he followed his gaze and dropped a book at the sight of him.

Megorune looked at his carrier confused and concerned before looking back to Megatron with a dawning realization until he too was shocked enough to drop his many books.

“Is..is this my sire, carrier?”

“Yes,” Rodimus hesitated before admitting. His optics were blinking a lot, something he did when he didn’t want to cry. “Megorune..this is your sire, Megatron.”

Rodimus held a shaky servo out towards Megatron who instinctively came to hold it. He’d missed this, missed him for so long.

“Megs..this is Megorune..your son.”

Megatron held onto Rodimus servo to keep himself grounded and his bitty flexed his servos the exact same way Rodimus would when he was shocked or on edge.

“You could’ve let him have some of my personality traits ya know,” Megatron tried to joke as a tear strayed from his optic, “didn’t have to solely rely on him looking just like me.”

The two of them laughed at the exact same time but his sons laugh sounded all of his sires.

It made Megatron smile.

“I’m…words cannot express how happy I am to meet you…your carrier..did more than I could ever hope to describe in raising you…you look…I am not worthy to be your sire but my spark cannot contain itself with how much joy just seeing you brings me.”

He did the one thing he was known not to.

He let his em field shroud the two and only the two.

They needed to know how he felt in this moment and they needed to know he would do whatever necessary to make sure he was able to stay in their lives.

[untilnextchapter]

Monthly Fanfictions Recommandation: September'23

Here are my best discoveries from the last weeks

🍬 The Authors

@kquil : a gentle author, writing about the Marauders, her writing will bring you peace and the writings are so soft. I love seeing her theme on my computer and seeing her icon on my dash is always a sign that I will read something good.

@luveline : you don't know if you want to read an Aaron Hotchner story or a good Marauder one? You don't need to change to another page, here is the wonderful Jade. She's so talented and you won't be disappointed if you want to check her work.

@thatfanficstuff : when I discovered this blog, I didn't know where I should go first. So many fandoms I love, so many characters, so many stories... So many comfort shows and so, comforting times after work. And sometimes, it's all I need. A gentle person writing some sweet stories.

@luci-in-trenchcoats : I read a few stories a few months ago but, I recently re-discovered this amazing author. With her works, I was back into Supernatural. So many hours spent at reading about our favourite hunters, so many series. And the best of the best: the writing skills are so great and it's so easy to read... Waow, just waow.

@imagineteamfreewill : Fluffy Supernatural fics and a lot of good AUs, all I need after a hard day at work. Meg is an excellent writer and you will spend a good time, I promise. I haven't read everything yet but, I know I have a few a good escapes in perspective. Don't hesitate , you will enjoy your time reading, I hope as much as I'm doing.

@anika-ann : I'm in my Marvel phase, I'm weak, I know. And, I think I found someone that could quench my thirst with so many good stories and good writing skills. I could spend hours reading about Steve Rogers. And I know I've found an unique writer because I loved a crossover story. I usually hate that. But here I am, reading a Criminal Minds / Avengers story and loving it. Thank you for that.

@crazyunsexycool : Another "Val", it can only be someone nice, right? But really, a sweetheart, someone with so much imagination, and a way to write about children... And I know what I'm talking about, I'm working in a nursery. It's so great to read something accurate when it's a subject you know. And except for the children, she's always here to answer your questions, being nice and taking time for her followers. I hadn't asked to be add into a taglist for a story for a long time. You won't be disappointed if you want to make a stop here.

🍭 The Stories

* = Smut (Minors DNI) || 🦋 = Series || Beware of the TW please

Not so secret admirer || @kquil (Remus Lupin x Reader, you can't hide your adoration for remus lupin and often end up staring at him, good thing he thinks you're really cute)

A star between hands 🦋 || @luveline (James Potter x Reader, finding out you’re princess isn’t half as intimidating as your new bodyguard, James. mutual pining, fluff)

if things go bad || @/luveline (Aaron Hotchner x Reader, Hotch rushes to get to you when you call him during a home invasion. angst, hurt/comfort)

True Mate 🦋 || @thatfanficstuff (Peter Hale x Reader)

Remember me || @/thatfanficstuff (Thranduil x Reader)

I Know Your Brother || @luci-in-trenchcoats (Sam Winchester x Reader, The reader is pulled out of Hell accidentally by Sam Winchester who’s wondering where his brother is…)

A Safe Mistake 🦋 || @/luci-in-trenchcoats (Nanny!Dean x Single Parent!reader, Dean’s in need of some extra cash to help Sam pay for his tuition and gets a job working as a nanny for the reader’s young son. As Dean becomes ingrained in the reader’s life though, he soon becomes more than just the nanny to them both…)

Beauty and the Beast 🦋 || @imagineteamfreewill (Dean Winchester x Reader AU, Living in a village is nice, and even though you’d always longed for adventure, you weren’t expecting to go on an adventure of your own anytime soon. But as soon as you take your father’s place as the prisoner of a Beast who lives in an enchanted castle, you’re surprised that adventure isn’t all it’s cracked up to be—and neither are monsters)

Daisy || @/imagineteamfreewill (Sam Winchester x Deaf!Daughter!Reader, Sam breaks some bad news to his daughter, who’s deaf, and watches her start to grow up without her mother)

Love on the Brain 🦋 || @anika-ann (Steve Rogers x Reader / Crossover MCU-Criminal Minds, You found menacing pictures of you friend, colleague and neighbour Steve in your mailbox.   Someone might play it off as a bad joke, but you were an agent for the Avengers Initiative and a former FBI agent. You’ve seen cases like this and you were taking no chances. Not with Steve of all people. But you were going to need help; enter the BAU)

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold 🦋 || @/anika-ann (Steve Rogers x Reader, Matt Murdock x Reader, You officially joined the Avengers only two months ago and you’re about to take off to yet another mission. Cap would like to have some extra help on this one – but the Avengers have approached the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen before and he made it pretty clear how he felt about it. Of course, this time it’s you who got stuck with trying to convince him once again. “I still don’t understand why it’s not you coming, oh Star Spangled Man with a Plan.” “I do have a plan. I have you.”)

Heart’s Munition 🦋 || @crazyunsexycool (Mob boss!Steve Rogers x Maid!Reader. I can't copy and paste all the resume but I swear, you'll love it. A bit of surprise but it's worth the world)

My little love * 🦋 || @/crazyunsexycool (Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader. Really long resume but in short, Bucky, Reader, children, Papa and Mama bears, great scenario, you'll love it I promise!)

That's all, for now.

Don't hesitate to share the stories you liked and tell the writers you enjoy their works, it always means a lot to them ❤️

Have a good reading,

Val 🌸

[ystk-archive]

I know you’ve talked about the meg songs you like the most but what are the meg songs you like the least/don’t listen too as often?

If we're talking about her discography overall, I'm bad because I still haven't listened to her earliest work and I haven't gone back to Dithyrambos or aquaberry since I first listened over a decade ago. (Don't know if this is an issue now but people used to think Nakata did all her music, really he only constituted a brief era of her tenure as a popstar lol.) I don't go back to La Japonaise, Wear I Am or Continue practically at all... I gave them all earnest shots around the times they came out but I just haven't felt compelled to them in the last several years (that said, Trap/Wear I Am [song] are fantastic). I do like the EP she did with Shanghai Restoration Project -- Journey -- a lot though.

In her Nakata-produced discography this is a little heretical but I'm not big on Prism Boy (prefer the extended mix, it has a higher sense of drama) or Precious. Most of Beam doesn't do much for me -- In Your Eyes, Girly Step (past that incredible intro), Love Letter, her cover of dreamin dreamin -- but I like the acoustic arrangement of In Your Eyes from her best-of compilation (performed by Watanabe Zentarou). Some of her single B-sides, stuff like Candy from Precious, I don't care for much lol. I also admit I never listen to Freak but I respect everything about that single, the song was too bold and ahead of its time which may just be an apt description of MEG altogether... You either get it or you don't.

This isn't really related to what you asked but in the past two years weirdly I've come to love Maverick. It had a rough reception when it came out (how do you follow up Beautiful?) but time grants a lot of interesting perspective on all kinds of things. Also I've never talked about it but Paris is one of her Nakata-produced songs that I think is one of his best across his career; some might think it's plodding and simple with gibberish lyrics (also true) but it has such a unique approach from both of them that makes it stand out from everything else he did during his peak era. Paris communicates some of his most subtle melancholy.