#my writing 🖋️

[kittywritesfics]

🌾 a homecoming, a rebirth

with nowhere else to go, single, pupped omega thg finds a home on alpha ygi’s farmland

🏷️ a/b/o, angst, strangers to lovers, social ostracism, mpreg, slow burn, competence kink, explicit sexual content, tender pregnancy sex, 9k

[ofbatsandballads]

Yay! I’m so glad you take requests. Feel free to decide if you want to write this or not, it’s fine either way :)

So, I was thinking about Jason dating civilian!reader, and her coming home all disheveled and horrified. Since she knows about him being Red Hood, she can confide in him. She had just killed someone for the first time, whether it was an accident, self defense or whatever, you decide.

I was just wondering how Jason would handle this situation since usually he’s the one doing the killing.

Thank you <3

oh, this is amazing food for thought. I actually think he’d be the very best person to come to in such a situation because he has experience with killing. who’s gonna understand you better than him? literally nobody. had something similar to this in my drafts but now my mind is whirling in a whole host of directions. excellent prompt, nonnie!

jason todd x f!reader. warnings include graphic depictions of violence and killing (in self defense), attempted and failed sexual assault, the aftermath of both events (reader’s in shock), hurt/comfort. this one’s got heavier subject matter so please do mind the warnings, folks. i did way too much research of the Gotham Knights map for this, but it’s my favorite depiction of the city so so be it. also reader and Jason live in the Belfry bc i said so (personal hc that i may or may not elaborate on some time). and one last thing! the romanized Arabic at the end is “حياتي ” which translates to “my life”. I love the idea that Jason picked up Arabic terms of endearment from Talia calling Bruce just about every one she could.

Jason wakes up to soft afternoon sunlight shining on his face. He grumbles out a gravelly hum and scrunches up his face in protest against being awakened when he was sleeping so nicely. He reaches out to find the comforting warmth of his beloved beside him, to pull you in and bury his face into your hair so he can hide from the morning for a bit longer.

All he finds are cold sheets and an empty pillow.

He bolts upright. Something’s wrong. You never, never wake up before him. He doesn’t even register the way that the sudden abundance of light stings his eyes. He takes stock of his surroundings, his training executing on autopilot. The open layout of the Belfry lets him get his bearings in seconds. He doesn’t see you anywhere from the bird’s eye view of your loft bedroom. There’s no smell of food in the kitchen nor any mess that would indicate you’d been working in there. The living room space, fully visible below, is empty too. The only enclosed space in your home, the bathroom that’s just around the corner from your bedroom, is dead quiet. No running water, no sweet singing, no familiar coughing from swallowed toothpaste. And without so much as leaving your bed, Jason’s already come to a conclusion that sends his heart pounding and dries his throat. You’re not here.

He’s up and grabbing the 9mm taped under your bedside table in the span of a few breaths. He moves through your home methodically, like he’s clearing one of Gotham’s criminal hideouts. There’s no sign of a struggle. Nothing’s been disturbed. He’s not surprised by this—barring Wayne Manor, the Belfry is the most secure building in Gotham. That’s precisely why Jason had moved you both here once you decided to live together. He checks the coffee table and sees that your phone and wallet are gone. A different type of fear takes over now. One that makes his heart ache. What if you’ve finally had enough, finally seen that he’s not good enough for you, not worth sticking around for? It makes him sick. He swallows hard and tries to clear the blistering thought from his head. No, that’s not you. You’re not cruel. You’re kind and gentle and loving. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. And you wouldn’t hurt him.

The sight of gears turning in his periphery catches his attention. He sees the cables pulling and the security panel go green, and he’s running to the elevator doors damn near ready to pry them open. He hastily tucks the 9mm into the waistband of his pajama pants, easily within reach if he needs it. Relief floods him when the huge metal doors grind open and he sees your pretty face on the other side. Then his heart drops when he realizes that that pretty face is scraped and splattered with blood.

Your hair is tangled and wet, dripping dirty water down your neck and staining the bright red of his your favorite hoodie. Your hands, which shake as they reach blindly towards him, are stained crimson and battered too. But it’s your eyes that haunt him. You look broken.

“Jay,” you croak out, unable to summon anything but a plea for the one person who can keep you safe.

The tears fall from your eyes at the same time that you collapse into Jason’s arms. He drags you inside and locks down the Belfry. Jason wants to panic but feels a strange sense of calm about himself. As loathe as he’d be to admit it, he finds himself falling into Bruce’s habit of assessment and action.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, voice steady and assured.

You don’t even hear him. You’re digging your hands into his shirt, clinging on to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. He may very well be. He feels you going rigid and cold and he knows he has to get you stable before you descend further into shock.

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, adding on and enunciating your name for emphasis.

That sparks some semblance of lucidity. Jason hasn’t called you by your name in months, much preferring you be his baby or his sweetheart or his doll, or simply his. If it jars you back to reality, so be it.

“I need you to tell me what happened,” he demands gently.

It all pours out of you like a flood.

You’d woken up early by chance this afternoon. Normally you’d just close your eyes and snuggle closer to Jason to catch a couple more hours of sleep, but you wanted to do something nice for him. So you’d gotten up and gone to Lemay’s Flower Emporium in Gotham Heights. You’d bought him the prettiest bouquet of red and pink roses, so big that you had to hold on to it with both arms. The taxi ride from the Heights back to Coventry Station went fine. You were almost home. So close that you could see the clock tower where your heart was sleeping peacefully.

Then you stopped at Commerce Avenue Station. You just wanted to get him some pastries from the little bakery tucked away on 3rd Street that you both love. It was a decent walk; you knew that. You also knew that Jason wouldn’t want you to go out of your way by yourself. But it was morning and you were a grown woman and you could handle yourself, right? Well, that’s what you thought until a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulders and yanked you violently into a side alley.

Jason had prepared you for something like this. You’d spent countless evenings with him teaching you self defense techniques in the training area of your home. None of it mattered because the man that had you by the shoulders slammed you so hard into the brick wall that all your thoughts went hazy. Before you could regain your footing, you were shoved to the ground. The bitter sting of your palms scraping open pierced through the fog, as did the crushing weight of the vile man on top of you. Fear shot through you as the man started tugging at his belt and you realized that this wasn’t intended to be a mugging. You tried to scream but a grimy hand clamped over your mouth, hitting your head against the ground and soaking your hair in dirty rain water and blood.

Your eyes darted around in search of someone—anyone. But no one was coming. You felt fingernails scratch against your stomach as clammy hands curled into the waistband of your sweatpants and suddenly you saw your savior. A brick from the damaged alleyway laid within reach. You didn’t even think when you grabbed it, when you swung it as hard as you could into the side of the man’s head. The corner hit his temple and he crumbled to the side. You rose to your knees and hit the man again. And again. All you could remember were Jason’s firm instructions: if someone makes it a choice of you or them, you make sure that it’s you no matter what it takes.

“I don’t r-remember anything else,” you sob into his chest. “There was so much blood, Jason. And his head—oh, God.”

Jason shushes you gently. He holds you tight in his arms like he’s terrified that if he loosens his grip even slightly, you’ll fade away on him.

���Don’t think about it, baby. You did what you needed to do. You protected yourself. I’m so proud of you.”

“I killed someone, Jason. I killed someone.”

You look at him wide eyed—afraid, horrified, guilty. No. Jason won’t have that. You will not feel guilty over some lowlife scumbag who wanted to hurt you, who probably would have killed you. Jason can’t even stomach the thought. He wants to put a bullet into whatever’s left of that predator’s head. No, the only shame in you killing that man is that you got to him before Jason could.

“I need you to listen to me,” he says, repeats your name again for emphasis. “You. Did. Nothing. Wrong.”

“Someone’s dead because of me, Jay,” you argue, gripping him tighter as your panic rises.

“Baby, do you know how many people are dead because of me?” he asks. “Far, far more than I’d ever want you to know. Do you think I’m a monster, honey? That I did something wrong?”

He knows it’s an apples to oranges comparison. But you’ve used this same tactic on him so many times that he also knows it’s effective. Every time he demeans himself for something, you ask if he’d treat you the way he treats himself for the same thing. The answer is always no.

“No!” you reply emphatically. “You protect people. You do it to keep people safe.”

“You did it to keep yourself safe.”

“But—”

“No buts. Or ifs. No ands, either, just in case you get any ideas,” he says lightly, brushing a speck of blood off your cheekbone.

You smile at his stupid little comment and he feels the tension in his body release just slightly. As long as there’s light back in your eyes for even a moment, he knows that you’ll be okay. He picks you up, lets you cling your arms around his neck and bury your face in his chest as he carries you to the bathroom upstairs. He runs you a bath and, after asking repeatedly if you were okay with it, undresses you and washes the blood and grime from your body. He wraps you in a big fluffy towel, dries and brushes your hair, and tends to your injuries before he bundles you up in his comfiest hoodie and pajama pants. He soothes you when your tears make their return and never leaves your line of sight because he knows he makes you feel safe.

The thought gnaws at him throughout the day. It outright scalds him as he lies in bed with you after deciding to skip patrol. He’s failed you. Failed to protect you, failed to ensure nothing harms a hair on your head. He’s failed at taking care of you, the one thing that matters more to him than anything else. He’s seconds away from spiraling into self hatred when your sweet voice comes calling, soft and pleading.

“Jay…please stay with me,” you say softly.

Your eyes are clear and focused again. You squeeze his waist tight where your arms are wrapped around him, like you’re physically trying to anchor him in place in your bed. The look on your face says that you know exactly where his mind was headed. You see right through him. It makes him feel more vulnerable than anything else, and it surprises him how much he loves the feeling. And Jason, as always and for eternity, can’t bring himself to deny you. So he pulls himself together and shoves all his self loathing down. He can deal with it later—you need him more right now.

“I’m right here, hayati. Not goin’ anywhere, I promise.”

He kisses you gently and feels some of that self hatred wash away when you chase after him for more goodnight kisses. He feels it dissipate even more when you fall asleep in his arms with a soft smile on your face. It’s all but forgotten as he drifts off too, safe in the knowledge that you’re here with him, that he can feel your heart beating pressed tight against his own.

[obs3ssedd]

katsuki bakugo¡

— he can’t stop visiting his favorite support tool.

— KATSUKI // being a support tool for a pro hero was interesting to say the least. every time and you mean EVERY time he would come into your workshop your co workers would always tease you, whenever he came in with a broken gauntlet, or his belt, or anything for that matter, as soon as he would drop off his gear for you to work on they would tease you, says stuff like “I bet he likes youuuu.” said one “isn’t this his 2nd time coming today? he must really like seeing you~.” said another just smirking shaking your head working on his gauntlet.

you do have to admit, it’s nice being a support tool for a pro hero at that being dynamite. it was cool working on his stuff or even explaining your ideas for his gauntlets or even little gadgets you had in mind, like for his gloves for the winter, when you were explaining it to him you’ve never realized how much he actually listened to you keeping eye contact with you till one of your co workers said something. he doesn’t like admitting stuff but he loves when you talk about ideas that’s just for him. would nod his head in agreement everytime getting lost with your voice..”so for whenever winter comes you’ll have these!. there automatic hand warmer gloves to help you produce more sweat for your explosions. It’s still a project in mind but— dynamite?.” you paused furrowing your eyebrows seeing him stare at you, almost like he’s glaring at you??.

did you say something wrong?!. shit! you probably pissed him off..great work y/n!. while you were mentally cussing yourself out as he was deep in thought…he never liked when people talked his ear off but you? he can make an exception..he loved hearing every single idea you had for his suits or to help him. honestly he could listen to you ramble on and on if he had the chance, he didn’t even notice your panic up until you called his name getting him out his thoughts. “what?.” — “I said did I do anything..? you’re glaring at me.” you nervously chuckled, almost in an instant he cursed to himself. he’s always had this mean resting bitch face, so whenever he’s calm he still looks mad. dynamite shook his head oddly quickly, “no!— I mean no..uh you didn’t.” he cleared his throat. fuck! you furrowed your eyebrows but shook your head looking back down at the glove, “I’ll let you know when the full designed is completed.” you gave a small smile turning back around to place the glove back on your work bench.

some days your co workers would catch on how many times he’s came in, saying one day he came in three times! one was when his belt broke, two is when his gauntlet was malfunctioning and the third..? you don’t think you remember him saying anything about any of his stuff being broken. when you had asked he had this small blush on his cheeks as he tried to explain himself, grinning at him trying to find his words. at first you thought it was cute by how many times he’s came to see you but then you started to get curious, the night where it was just you in your workshop working on your project you heard heavy footsteps approach you from behind. you paused your work lifting your head up, the more the steps came closer the more your grip tightened on the screw driver. your quirk wasn’t as cool as the pro’s but it was very helpful..if a person is atleast 15 feet from you, you can feel there presence and hear their breathing.

as if someone was about to touch you, you whipped around fast pointing the screw driver at the persons neck but once you realized who it was your defenses dropped. “dynamight?.” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows. he looked different? instead of his costume he was wearing casual attire, a white t-shirt, black jeans and sneakers. you think this is your first time seeing him wear something outside his costume, he was also holding flowers in his hand?. you felt your heart drop but you kept a smile on your face tilting your head, “what are you doing here? It’s late you know.” you chuckled as he sighed nodding his head. “yeah..I just thought I could stop by..” he was nervous. you could tell. you hummed looking back down at the flowers then him, “you’re all dressed up. you got a hot date tonight?.” you teased, though you didn’t want it to be true.

In an instant he shook his head furrowing his eyebrows, “no!. I..no. uh there actually for you..” he said quietly, you raised a brow. “there for me?.” he didn’t say anything but nod his head lifting them for you to grab. they were your favorite too..how did he..? “and there my favorite..” you smiled admiring them, “how did you know?.” dynamight shrugged looking away trying to cover the small blush, “I asked shitty hair.” of course, you shook your head chuckling softly. “dynamight—“ — “katsuki.” you paused. “call me katsuki.” he looked back at you and you swore he had a smile on his face, “katsuki..” It rolled off your tongue in a good way, “well then katsuki, why you get me flowers?.” this was the hard part. admitting he took a liking of you and wanted to ask you out on a date, he went to kirishima for advice since you’re basically his sister and he knows everything about you. though kirishima can be an idiot sometimes he’s actually really good at advice..

he cleared his throat trying to get the right words out. from the silence you gave a soft smile placing the flowers gently down on your desk, grabbing ahold of his hand squeezing it. “you know, you don’t have to tell me anything right now. I won’t force you.” the gentle in your voice could make anyone calm their nerves. it was calming his. he sighed squeezing your back, “well..I want to take you out or something.” — “like a date?.” he nodded his head, you smiled. when he didn’t get an answer he thought you were gonna decline but when he felt you kiss his cheek his eyes went wide, “I would love that.”

“I really would.”

[heretodestroyou]

Hello i am requesting for Carmen from the Bear!! Something sweet and heart warming about Carmen being worried about the reader and just the whole kitchen seeing how in love he is ❤️ thank you

yes to heaven.

pairing(s); carmen “carmy” berzatto x gn!reader

fandom; the bear (fx on hulu)

w/c; 758 words

trigger/content warnings; brief sexual implications, brief mention of past injuries, language, richie (he’s a warning all by himself), tina n richie being mean to carmy lol, tina and reader chisme together, is this another fic with an ldr song title????, brief touches on carmy’s trauma (not in-depth cuz this is a fluff fic), not-proof read, lmk if i missed anything.

stella speaks! i need him biblically. at first, i was like “mmm, jeremy allen white” as a joke. but bro. i don’t think it’s a joke anymore…

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto who’s always watching you. Who has his eye on you, if you will ;)

Carmy, whose eyes are trailing your figure when you first meet. Not in a sexual way, just taking in every detail. The way you stand, the way you move your hands when you talk. Any time you wear a shirt more than once, the nervous tics you have while he tries your food, if you have any visible tattoos, freckles, or birthmark. His eyes snag on every little thing you do for a split second.

Carmy, whose gaze is locked in your hands while you demonstrate your abilities. He’s taking in every scar, every cut, every tear, every burn that was once fresh in the skin of your hands and committing it to memory. He doesn’t know why, he just is.

Carmy, whose eyes will flicker to your face every so often as you cook, lingering in the scrunch of your brow, the purse of your lip, the muttering under you breath, every curve and divet on your cheeks.

Carmy, whose brain short-circuits the first time he sees you in anything other than your lose white tee, black pants and blue apron. Logically, he knows your body has always been shaped that way, so why is heat crawling up his neck in the biting Chicago air?

Carmy, whose new favorite thing is watching you cook. Especially the recipes you know by heart, when every lovely movement your body makes is muscle memory. Seamless and smooth.

Carmy who appreciates the habit you have of cleaning your station as you cook. Those pale blue eyes locked in you as he exits his office, watching you dumping veggies in a crock pot before scooping up the cutting board, knife, and any food waste and making short work of it.

Carmy who is personally offended by Richie watching you cook. Richie and his Richie-esque comments making him roll his eyes, or warning a scoff. “Makes you wanna know what other moves they can do, eh?” “Shut the fuck up, cousin.”

Carmy, whose habit of paying microscopically close attention to you has whispers from Marcus to Tina to Sydney to you. He appreciates the way you wave them off, using the new kid excuse.

Carmy, who’s been reduced to a stuttering mess when you confront him privately about it. He’s spilling out excuses, until you quietly ask him if he wants to grab coffee with you sometime.

Carmy who, the more and more he arrives to work either with you or with a dumb smile on his face, is getting endless teasing from Richie and Tina. Sydney quietly smiles at him, but mainly sticks to talking about the nature of y’all’s relationship with you.

Carmy, who admittedly fears anytime you let sitting with Tina, exchanging words that have her yelling curses or exclamations in Spanish.

Carmy, who has a retort ready for Richie when he asks you if that means he has a chance now, only to clamp his mouth shut when you wordlessly flip Richie off, bringing another soft look into Carmy’s eyes and a dumb grin on his lips.

Carmy who has to kiss every scar, every mark, every little thing in your body when given the chance. It’s a love language, remembering and worshipping every little thing about you.

Carmy who has his eyes on you so much, regulars at The Beef are silently questioning if there’s anything going on. (there is, but Carmy would sooner be Richie’s personal chef than admit it to customers.)

Carmy whose new greates comfort is you. Any fleeting fragment of you. Maybe you washed his clothes once and now they smell like you. Maybe you hugged him so much your scent lingers in his nose. Maybe he’s got a small piece of jewelry from you or reminiscent of you. Anything that has to do with you can bring him out of the deepest panic.

Carmy who swears up and down and to the ends of the Earth that he’s never gonna lose you. It’s not even an option anymore. He would actually just fall to pieces on the floor.

Carmy who shows the uglier parts of him slowly. You actually have to peel back the first layer and stare it directly in the face without fear before he shows you more. He’s just so scared.

Carmy who’s so so grateful you don’t try to fix him. You just leave him as he is, just giving extra love to those broken bits.

Carmy who used to hate love songs before you arrived.

Carmy who was losing faith in the very idea of love until you arrived.

[day-dr3aming]

Ludwig's redesing (Chibi version)

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[roronoagem]

cw // yandere themes & creepy law lol + not proofread

yandere!law stopping by your island for a supply run and when he saw you working at the pub of your small town, he couldn’t help but fall for you.

yandere!law that offered you a visit to his submarine, noticing how you looked at his ship in fascination, stating that “i’ve never seen a pirate ship like that! it looks so cool!”

yandere!law that noticed you were running a fever one day and offered to visit you, wanting to help you feel better. a side of him wants to take advantage of that and lie, lie about your health.

“i’m sorry [y/n]-ya, but it seems that you have a rare disease. i’m one of the few doctors who know how to treat it… it’s really dangerous and i don’t want to leave you in such a state,” he started explaining, you were completely unaware of what he really did while visiting you.

yandere!law that started using medicines to prevent your legs from fully functioning and you started panicking, because the disease he was talking about must be showing its symptoms and he was the only one able to help you!

you must leave with him, he said he could help you feel better. he offered you to go with him since he would go on a trip to look for a final medicine to cure your disease, but he couldn’t leave you there alone. and you accepted because what could possibly go wrong? he had really good intentions!

you were truly sick, it was dangerous not being around him at this point . . . right?

[dancingafterdark]

snippet from a draft of a new wip

@hiemaldesirae i blame u :D

[solitaireships]

We're getting close to Valentine's Day, and what better to celebrate with than a cute cuddly prompt from @strawbeaniie's Valentine's prompt list! Of course it had to be for me and Jayce since he's the cuddliest man alive, and this is about him and Corinna waking up together for the first time since they started dating

Rating: General

Genre: Fluff

Words: 724 words

Corinna’s surprised by how rested she feels waking up in Jayce’s bed. Sleep has never come easily to her, and it’s rare for her to wake up feeling like she slept well, yet somehow she feels good when she wakes up. As she rolls onto her side, she thinks it must be that this is the first time she’s waking up after sleeping next to Jayce.

He’s still fast asleep, back turned to her and one arm dangling off the edge of the bed. The two of them have been friends since they were children, but nothing they’ve done in the years they’ve known each other has felt quite as intimate as this. She can see the rise and fall of his breathing through the dark, his bare back exposed to her so she can just barely see his muscles.

Corinna loves Jayce. She’s known that longer than they’ve been together. She can’t imagine what her life would be like without him, not when he’s been everything to her for so long. And now she can’t help but imagine what it would be like to wake up next to him every day for the rest of her life.

Corinna inches across the bed as carefully as she can, trying not to wake Jayce up as she positions herself behind him. She hugs him close, burying her face against the back of his neck and placing one hand on his chest. She hopes he’ll like waking up like this, cuddled up next to her. He’s always been so fond of physical affection, even in little ways. When they were kids, he used to reach for her hand whenever they were walking to or from school, so casually affectionate that she almost didn’t know how to respond. But by now she knows that every touch from Jayce is a reminder that he loves her. That he never wants them to be apart. 

She doesn’t know how long they lay like that, her eyes drifting closed as her body relaxes in time with Jayce’s breathing. But eventually he grumbles, stretching in her arms and drawing Corinna fully back to consciousness as he stirs.

��G’morning,” Jayce mumbles, his voice intoxicatingly rough.

Corinna responds with a kiss to the back of his neck. “Good morning.”

Jayce grunts as he rolls himself over, facing Corinna. He looks at her with a lazy smile on his face, hazel eyes settling on her. “I think I like waking up with you.”

“I think I like waking up with you too,” she says. She rubs his back with one hand, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapping around her. 

“Maybe we should wake up together more often,” Jayce suggests. 

“We could sleep at my place tonight. Maybe get dinner before that too,” Corinna says.

“I don’t know.” He presses a quick kiss to her lips, snuggling up closer against her. “It’s going to be pretty hard to get me out of bed today when I could be cuddling with my girlfriend instead of working.”

She laughs in response, but can’t deny that the idea of staying in Jayce’s arms all day is a pleasant one. “You know you wouldn’t be able to keep yourself away from your work for that long.”

“But you are making a very tempting case for never leaving bed again,” he says.

“Hmm. Well, there’s nothing stopping us from cuddling a while longer. I could always pick up some food on my way into the theater this morning.”

“And Viktor will only complain a little if I’m a couple minutes late.”

“As long as it’s only a little.”

Jayce grins, running a hand through Corinna’s hair. “He could complain a lot and it would still be worth it for every second I get with you.”

It’s hard for Corinna to think of what to say in response to that. She could write affectionate exchanges all day, but when it comes to her own love story, she finds it hard to find the words to show how much she cares for Jayce. So instead she responds in a way that he’ll always understand, squeezing him tight and letting their legs tangle together beneath the covers. The world can wait for them both to go about their days. For now, all that matters is the way they feel cuddled up together. 

[nvirskies]

children of hestia hc's

a/n: was thinking about how the other two maiden goddesses (athena + artemis) both have their own way of claiming/having kids, biological or not. and then it made me think about how hestia was the only one left with no cabin and no children in the canon pjo universe

warnings: none? lmk if there are any i need to add!

nsfw, 16-/21+ dni

read under the cut! - ✄┈┈┈┈

not her biological kids but hold reflections of her powers

formed from the ashes of the hearth up in olympus, breathed life into by hestia

since the hearth is always burning and tended to up in olympus, there's a lot of ashes and embers so she scooped them up in her hands and formed little dolls

kind of like how humans were first formed in myth by prometheus' hand of clay & breathed life into by athena

if they find each other in the wild they'll have an inexplainable pull to each other, almost immediately clocking each other as someone oddly familiar + familial (being formed from the same divine ashes) even without the knowledge of their godly roots

pretty mellow people, will not throw the first punch

that being said: if they're pissed off for whatever reason, someone fucked up real badly

usually mediator/neutral middle man for any conflicts

cabin is neutral ground for entire camp, no violence allowed within it

they'll lead the vast majority of ceremonies if chiron or mr. d don't make any request to lead themselves or it isn't a god-specific thing

will be claimed if any part of their body is immersed in flames

symbol above their head would be an outline of a sacrificial fire, the main brazier up in olympus

once at camp and claimed, they work with hephaestus kids with fire for forge, and will monitor all sacrificial fires

granted privilege of first burn for any and all sacrifices

a few of their powers includes:

invulnerability to any and all heat + flame (including greek fire and hellfire)

healed by flames/heat of any kind

teleportation to any building with a fire burning within it, or even a campfire

memory manipulation in relation to family/familial bonds (does not have to be blood family chosen family trope &lt;3)

typhokinesis/fumokinesis (smoke manipulation)

pyrokinesis (extending to all forms of fire + flame)

[ofbatsandballads]

please take this. I made myself cry writing it and I have nothing to say except that putting ya’aburnee and darling by halsey on my jason playlist was a brutal choice. also look up flower language if you want additional feelings.

There’s so many things you want for Jason Todd.

You want him to get a good night’s sleep for once. You let him close his pretty seafoam eyes and lay his head in the crook of your neck as you scratch gently at his scalp. It always calms him down, grounds him in the here and now. Your arms around him, your fingers carding through his hair, the rise and fall of your chest that’s synced with his–it all reminds him that he’s safe, that he’s home. You want that feeling to follow him into his dreams, to let him find true rest. So when his body goes tense and his breathing gets labored, you hold him closer and hum gently into his ear until whatever haunts him in his sleep is chased away by the comfort you bring.

You want to make sure he’s protected. You wish you could deflect every hit, blade, and bullet away from his body. You wish he would see his body as something worth protecting. He would stop if you asked, would settle into a normal life as best as he could. You would never ask because to do so would be to deny the part of him you love most: his heart that beats to help others. So you protect him in the ways that you can. You stitch cuts and treat burns, you mend his jackets and help clean his guns. More than anything, you guard his peace of mind like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. You’re never cruel to him, never scream vicious words or toss him out into the cold night. You call Bruce and thank him for the first edition Jane Austen novels that arrived on your doorstep on August 16th when Jason just…can’t. You let him grip your hand brutally tight under the table when you go to the manor for Thanksgiving for the first time. And when it gets really bad? When he feels the burning of green waters that breathed life into him that he didn’t want, when hideous laughter echoes in a place it’s never been? You do something no one has ever done for him. You wait. You stay. You stay by his side until he can breathe again, until dawn breaks and he can see the light again. And always, always you, haloed in it like an angel he doesn’t think he deserves. He does.

You want him to have a good cup of hot chocolate. He told you about it once when he came home after a long winter patrol. Half delirious from exhaustion, he reminisced about how Bruce would make them both a cup of hot chocolate after particularly rough or successful patrols in December. How this specific hot chocolate had no equal—even Alfred couldn’t replicate the richness and warmth. You noticed the fondness in his voice, the longing so intense that it still makes your heart ache for him. So you do some light stalking and hunt down Tim Drake, demand that he give you the information you want or else you’ll disclose how he really lost his spleen to Bruce (why he was dense enough to tell Jason, you’ll never know). And that is how Bruce Wayne, billionaire philanthropist single father and the Batman, receives an email with the subject line “URGENT: Recipe Request” that reads as follows:

To whom it may concern,

I have been made aware that you have a remarkably compelling hot chocolate recipe that is hitherto unparalleled by cafes, franchises, and butlers alike. I am emailing you to inquire about my being sent this recipe post-haste. This is less a request than a demand. I will do my best to ensure that you, at some point in time not specified (it will take great effort on my part), are able to witness the consumption of the hot chocolate by the individual that will be receiving the product of the recipe.

Best regards,

Someone who loves your son.

Bruce sends the recipe the second he receives the email. He has to sneak his phone under the conference table at the Wayne Enterprises board meeting to do it, but he still manages to reply in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. And you make good on your promise. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jason shine as brightly as he does that Christmas, lit up by the lights on the twelve foot tree as he sips his hot chocolate from the same red mug that’s been sitting in the kitchen cabinet since he last drank from it. The matching black mug is clasped in the hands of the hot chocolate connoisseur himself, who smiles softly like the magic of the season has returned to his life for the first time in ages.

You want him to heal. It’s a big ask; you know that. But you’ve never been one for giving up hope, and if anyone can manage to achieve the impossible, it’s Jason. So you tell him it’s a great idea when he jokes about getting a therapist. You wait for him in the car the first time he goes and you let him open up to you in his own time when he comes out of the appointment body tight as a bowstring and eyes bloodshot. You watch quietly and celebrate the little victories you see him win. He can call his father first now; he doesn’t do it often, but he can. He can talk to his younger brother without hating his hands and the blood that’s been spilled on them, without going out on patrol and intentionally letting all the worst hits make contact. He can go out to lunch with his older brother and his youngest, can laugh with them over that ridiculous thing Bruce did at a gala once to make them all laugh. He can bear his birthday a little bit better now, can accept the cake you bake and actually make a wish when he blows out the candles. But you’ll never know about the moment that you start to get what you want. Jason goes to visit his own grave on the anniversary of his death and finds a bouquet of red carnations, baby’s breath, and honeysuckle with a note in your handwriting that reads “Someone told me once that you were magic, that that was the best thing about you. I think it’s far more important that you were loved. I don’t know what you could’ve been. I don’t wonder about it like those that loved you did because all I know is who you became. He’s wonderful. He’s still magic. I think you’d be proud of him. I’ll do my best to take care of him for you.” He sits there for an hour in tears. Then he takes one bud of each flower and the note, goes home and presses them into the pages of his favorite book. He holds you in his arms in bed that night and feels, for the first time in a long time, a sense of peace down to his very bones.

You want—above all else—Jason Todd to feel loved. You want him to feel so cherished and wanted that he cannot possibly look at himself without realizing that he is something precious, something beloved. So you tell him that you love him and you accept his warm embrace as his way of saying it back. You make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak one into the pocket of his tactical pants when he goes on patrol (they’re soft, they don’t get crunched when he’s thrown from a roof). You read his favorite books to understand what he’s saying when he goes off on tangents about class and social hierarchy and how they governed life in the 19th century. You trace his scars and kiss away his tears when he can’t believe that he could be transformed from a being marred by brutality into a man revered with gentleness. You will love him until the day you both die. You will love him in death, until whatever atoms made up you and him come together again. You will love him until everything that ever is or ever was ceases to be in a supernova of light. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll love him in whatever is born after.

[obs3ssedd]

↳ 𝗄𝖺𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗄𝗂 𝖻𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗀𝗈

↳ 𝖺.𝗇; I got this idea from listening to a song ☹️ I’m so lonely that i had to write this because I need comfort in my life. it’s bad. anyways enjoy! the song in question

weird as it is, katsuki had a habit of showing you his soft side. one being he can’t keep his hands off you. he’s clingy, real clingy. It was shocking of how much he would touch you, and on top of that he was protective too. overprotective you would say. whenever you guys were doing practice missions and one of the guys (kaminari or mineta) would look at you with heart eyes, he would always stand behind you glaring at them. by the aura that flamed around him, they would end up getting scared or nervously laughing looking away from you. knowing exactly why you smiled shaking your head with a sigh turning around to spot katsuki looking away with a scoff, “don’t look at me like that.” you raised a brow placing a hand on your hip not even willing to argue with him, only shaking your head walking up to him. “you need to stop.” pecking his cheek as he grinned with a shrug. “not my fault those damn idiots keep staring at you.” l you shake your head watching him walk past you with a chuckle but gasp feeling him pull you by your waist as he did.

what else is weird that ever since he started to have that change in his attitude, he’s been showing affection around everyone but it would be small minor things. like holding your hand, whenever you guys are watching a movie or sitting on the couch he or you would put his arm over your shoulder, or whenever it’s just you two out in the dorms he would always back hug you enjoying the comfort he got from your warmth, giggling each time. “kat, what’s goin on?.” he would hum holding you tighter, “shut up loser..I just had a long day.” smiling everytime using your hand to ruffle his hair. he would do this so everyone knows who you’re with, though he didn’t like the constant teasing mina and kirishima did he still does it so no one gets any smart ideas with you. you even knew he did it to remind everyone that you’re dating him, but in reality.. he only makes that excuse so he can hold you 🤫.

he also loves touching you. like really much. though it was not a common thing he would tell everyone, touching is his love language. you thought it was cute teasing him everytime but he thought it was stupid pushing you away each time, but couldn’t help but have that cute grin on his face. the relationship was cheesy— according to kaminari and mineta probably due to jealously that bakugo out of all people got to pull you, but in reality it was cute and everyone thinks you guys look adorable together. bakugo would always yell at them feeling flustered but you would always laugh saying thank you to everyone, “awww look at them!.” mina cooed as she saw you both on the couch, katsuki’s arm wrapped around you as you were cuddled to his side eating. “they look like a married couple.” kirishima added on with a smile but his smile dropped eyes going wide as he saw bakugo’s eyes on them glaring at em both. mina and kirishima looked away from them pretending they were doing something as you heard katsuki scoff. “what’s wrong?.” you asked taking another bite from your plate looking up at him who looked at you with a frown, “pinky and shitty hair fan girling again.” he rolled his eyes as you laughed shaking your head. “let em. there’s nothing wrong with that.” you muttered, leaning up to peck his lips hearing them “awww!!” again giggling pulling back. katsuki groaned glaring at you as you laughed, “you did that on purpose didn’t you?!.” you poked your tongue out shrugging, “I don’t know..did I?.” before you knew it, he pushed you off the couch with a smug grin feeling your glare on him. “I’ll kill you!.” — “If you can catch me nerd!”

“they’re so cute together.”

“couldn’t agree more.”

[heretodestroyou]

How to cast of hotd will act is they see reader fire bending , maybe like the castle was under attack and someone tried to attack one of the cast and reader had no chose but to spit out fire from her mouth

pairing(s); daemon targaryen, rhaenyra targaryen, aemond targaryen, alicent hightower x fem!firebender!reader

fandom; house of the dragon (HBO Max)

w/c; 412

trigger/content warnings; firebender!reader, canon-typical violence, both the targs and reader have fire immunity, canon divergence, there is no homophobia in westeros, the dragons never danced, unspecified battles

stella speaks! ahahaha finally writing again! i loved this request, tried to crank this out as quickly as possible

Daemon Targaryen's breath is stolen from his throat before the wave of heat dissapates. You'd never given any sign of any sort of power like this. Yes, you're a handmaiden-turned-consort, so the people of the court haven't exactly been kind to you, but now they have to be! Daemon's not about to usurp his brother, but trust he'll be extra bitter that he will never have the throne and Westeros will never have a firebending queen. Oh, and those not-so-nice-people in court? If you're ever before the king and someone mouthes off, Daemon's on it. He doesn't care who he just killed. The important thing is no one is smack-talking you.

If Rhaenyra Targaryen wasn't whipped before, she surely is now. She's fascinated by your firebending, even in the midst of some fight. Harwin Strong already has her thrown over his shoulder and is herding her to safety, but she's still scrambling to be near you. All she really wants is to watch you with those huge heart eyes. Afterwards, she'll insist you tell her show off everything you possibly can. Feasts are being thrown just for you and your new talent, and she calls you her "byka zaldrīzes" (little dragon) in private.

Aemond Targaryen's first honest thought is how to usurp Aegon. Listen, he loves Helaena (Aegon less so), but he just knows everything in Westeros would be right if he could be king and you could be queen. You two could conquer realms, lay waste to armies, even travel across the narrow sea! His mind is bursting with possibilities, and he's gotten together teams of historians to document everything they know about firebending and anything else you can tell them. His new favorite thing to do now is examine your hands, still confused at how there's not a single mark on them from all the firebending.

Whatever you were to Alicent Hightower before you breathed out a wall of fire and saved her life doesn't matter anymore. Now, you're her only Queensguard, made a white cloak, your name is written down as the firebreather, misogyny be damned. Anyone who even breathes a word that you're not suitable to protect the queen consort has their tongue pulled out with hot pincers. Otto tried to bring it upt to Viserys once, but Alicent threatened to have him banished from King's Landing and he's never spoken a word since. He's kind of afraid, since Alicent loves you more than she feras Otto now.

[minty-bubblegum]

Can I request a writing prompt of jace leech and Floyd eigh an so who's very silly 🥺🥺😇😇

HOLY FUCK I CAN SEND ASKS TO MYSELF

Jade

He is very suprise to know you are sily!!!!! He do the cute little 😮 face. He give you kiss and say "you are so silly. I must study you, my interesting little parasitic bacteria"

Leys just say he loves your silliness!!!! He libes to do expeirmen on you, like seeing how fast you react when you see your favorete Tumblr artistsststs post!!! (Based on true events. I'm looking at you. You know who you are 👁️👁️)

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

Floyd

When he found out you were silly, he yhrew you acrooss the room and giggled.

"wow!!!!!! You are so sjill!! My goodness!!! Let's see if you can get sillier!!!!" He aggressively bited your hands and finher off before licking your toes. He squurzef you and cuddles younlike kitty

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑

A/n: hihi guys!!! If you didn't knoe, I write :3 I will be writing more silly reader if you guys want!!! :3

Tags bc I can: @cheezy-moon @citrusitonit uhhh @xptobie

[roronoagem]

Maybe this would be better? What about Law finding out his SO was forced to eat a devil fruit. She hadn't told anyone and it was only made obvious after she fell overboard and couldn't swim. Maybe she had talked about her previous love for swimming, but no one caught on that it was something she couldn't do anymore.

characters: trafalgar d. water law

content warnings: gn!reader, law feels a bit betrayed lol, reader almost drowned, & very slight argument.

a/n: shitting my pants rn bc i met law in the anime a couple of times & my knowledge is based on vids & his wiki 😭 i’m scared to write him so out of character, please don’t come at me if it’s nothing like law i beg you . . . i’m gonna jump bye !

let’s start with you speaking about how much you loved swimming, how much you loved going to the beach.

everyone on the polar tang knew about it, but they were totally oblivious that you couldn’t do it anymore due to your devil fruit.

not even your captain knew about this.

and he didn’t know you had the powers of a devil fruit, in the first place.

and when you fell right into the water and your head didn’t pop out of the water, bepo started to panic.

“CAPTAIN!” bepo was running from side to side searching for law. “[y/n]..!”

that’s when law appeared and noticed your absence, trying to get the polar bear to explain the situation.

when shachi finally pulled you out of the water, after he jumped in to search for you, you were almost passed out. law felt a hint of panic at the sight because well… it didn’t make much sense from what the bear said.

did you hit your head? did something underwater attacked you? could it be that you got so scared you passed out?

impossible. he knew you too well, you wouldn’t get scared just because you fell into the water, it was calm enough to be able to swim too.

when you finally opened your eyes and started coughing water, law felt relief fill his chest. he checked your pulse and body temperature, make sure you were breathing properly. he wrapped you in a blanket as you were completely soaked.

you felt a bit dizzy, unable to focus on whatever was surrounding you. “[y/n]! i’m so glad you’re okay! i’m sorry!” bepo started to apologise because he stood there panicking instead of taking action, but you weren’t mad at him.

“it’s okay… don’t worry,” you were able to say before meeting law’s hard gaze. you shivered, because he seemed unhappy somehow. “we need to talk,” that’s all he said.

you ended up in his office, he finished checking you up just to be sure you were truly okay. he didn’t say much while doing so, which caused the tension between you two to grow.

“say something,” you gave in before law. it was tiring, to say the least. he was avoiding your eyes too. what the hell?

“you almost drowned,” he said then, tone obvious. but he still was avoiding you. “but i’m here now,” you answered back.

law took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to not snap at you. “you were drowning,” he repeated, finally meeting your gaze. “but i’m alive!”

“what happened?” his tone was cold, he was treating you like any other patient. “i fell in the water, shachi pulled me out. that’s all,” you tried to sound as confident as possible, protecting your secret. “you know what doesn’t sound right to me?” law tilted his head to the side, “you talking every second about how much you love swimming, you love the sea, the ocean, and then this happens!”

of course he finally snapped. law is not a dumb man, he knows everything about everyone in his crew — he has to. it was clear you were avoiding telling him something important, and this was making him feel both angry but also hurt… did you not trust him enough?

“i-i forgot how to do that, i guess??” you responded, trying to make him let go of the subject. “you like it so much but you forget how to do that? how is it that i’ve never seen you get too close to the water since you joined this crew, huh?”

so he had noticed. he knew that it didn’t make sense but he never found the right moment to bring this up. but now…

“you’re the one avoiding it in the first place,” you retorted, as if putting him under the spotlight for a second would help you win the argument. “yes, because i ate a devil fruit and–”

when law paused, you noticed realisation spreading all over his expression. he found the missing piece of the puzzle. you ate a devil fruit too.

“why?” as he said that you couldn’t bare to look at him anymore, his tone showed that he felt betrayed by you for not telling him such important information. “[y/n]-ya… look at me,” law took a step closer.

“i was forced to eat it! i didn’t want to do that! i-i genuinely loved the ocean, swimming, these weren’t lies! but…”

when you started sobbing, law moved closer and gently cupped your cheeks. you met his gaze and noticed that he wasn’t angry anymore, he was trying to comfort you the best he could. “i know this is something you’re not proud of, but this information is vital. i needed to know that you ate a devil fruit because it could put your life in danger, just like today. i’d never judge you for it,” he tried to reassure you.

you felt relieved, you wiped your cheeks and then leaned closer to hug him. he caressed your back gently and let you stay like that for as much as you needed.

“i’m sorry,” you then murmured, sighing. “you’re alive and that’s all that matters to me,” law’s tone was firm, he held you a bit tighter for a second. you smiled at his words, words full of his love for you.

[daisy-child]

i love my poetry class what do you mean i’m writing about how i used martial arts as a way to release my anger and learning about sound work through trying to capture the feeling of hitting a punching bag

[nothingtoblue]

me looking at the Gorai ao3 tag: Can the angst not be ‘one of them died’ FOR 5 MINUTES