#of mice & men imagines

[anetherealpoetess]

adar going from calling elrond beautiful to picking him up on the battlefield and tossing him aside like he's nothing while whispering some snarky shit in that soft masculine melodious voice... dadar ...

[ceiling-karasu]

Squirrel and Hedgehog Shipping Polls

I’m heading out to the Caribbean this weekend for a family vacation, so this poly ship should make for a warm discussion from the suggestions and prompts in the tags.

The captured Field Mouse from episode two, and his hedgehog Guards.

[fangirl94stuff]

Alan Ashby (OM&M)

I can't wait for this shift to be over, I swear tonight has been too quiet and we hate the q word.'

'Now you've jinxed us, Sarah,' you hiss, looking up from your phone with a wicked glare, which made your friend and colleague pout.

'Here it comes,' Jen groans, and points at the board above the nurse's station, which had suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree.

You pocket your phone and get up, only a couple of hours left in your shift, 'let's get to work boys and girls, people ain't going to fix themselves.'

Tonight you were second in command which meant you could assign nurses and doctors in the A&E. You begin dishing out bed numbers, making sure to keep the simple broken arm in bed 3 all to yourself.

'Okay Mr Ashby, I'm y/n and it says here you have a broken arm,' you call out, before entering the cubicle area with a smile. You might be tired but you loved your job.

On the bed in front of you sits a guy with ginger hair with his left arm across his chest in a makeshift sling, 'err hi, this is really painful.'

'How did it happen?' you ask, and stand next to him slowly taking off the sling.

He bows his head, 'err it's kind of embarrassing y/n, you can also call me Alan.'

Why did that name sound so familiar to you?

'Doctor-patient confidentiality Alan, this stays in A&E between us.'

Alan sighs, 'my band was performing, I got excited, and the audience wanted me to stage dive so I did, they caught me but then dropped me because they were drunk. But I managed to get back on stage and finish the set.'

You hum as you jot down notes, 'I know you don't need me to tell you that was kind of stupid Alan, but let's get this arm an x-ray and put it in a cast.'

You grab a passing nurse and put in an x-ray request before turning back to Alan, 'how many dates do you have left?'

Alan pouts, 'two, but I guess my tech can fill in.'

'What's the name of your band?' you ask, wanting to fill the time.

Alam perks up, 'we're called Of Mice And Men, have you heard of us?'

That's why his name sounded familiar, you snap your fingers, 'I use to listen to you guys all the time. I thought you looked familiar, a little different from the Warped Tour days.'

Alan laughs, 'those were different times. How long have you worked here?'

You put your clipboard down, 'at this hospital for three years, I love my job just like you do, but you'll never find me stage diving.'

Alan shakes his head, 'we're in town for a couple of days before the next show. You seem cool y/n. Would you and your boyfriend like to meet the band?'

You quirk an eyebrow, 'I don't have a boyfriend, bit random there Alan, did a nurse give you meds?'

The ginger smirks, 'how would you like to get coffee with me then?'

Realisation dawns on you what was happening and you can't help but laugh, 'smooth Alan, and I get off in a couple of hours.'

Alan grins, 'good because I need a nurse to keep an eye on me in case I do anything else stupid.'

You stop laughing, 'well good thing I can keep an eye on you. Now have you got any more embarrassing or funny tour stories to tell?'

Alan nods and sits back carefully on the bed trying not to move his arm, 'this one time two years--'

You stay with Alan through the x-ray and help get his cast on, which you promise to sign with your number if the coffee went well.

[roseofhybrids]

"Just look at the baby cows Uz- No, I know there's not any but just like, imagine that there's- ignore the gun, don't worry about the gun just imagine baby cows-"

Completely hypothetically

[after-witch]

To a Mouse [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: To a Mouse [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: The best laid escape plans of mice and men often go awry. 

Word Count: 2200ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, abusive behavior, drugging

You’ve been planning. Bad, bad thing that you are--not that Overhaul knows about the planning. Not that he knows you call him Overhaul, in your head, all the while “Kai” bubbles from your lips like sweet candy.

Not that he knows that while you obey and nod and pretend to go along with it, you’re screaming, plotting, fervently dreaming about the day that you’ll get away from him.

That day is today, in fact.

All thanks to two things: your penchant for drawing, and his penchant for closing his eyes while you change into your nightgowns.

The drawing is what earned you the box of pencils. They’re nice pencils, middle-of-the-road when it comes to quality. Better than the cheap pencils schoolchildren get, but a seasoned artist might not work with them. You, though, are no seasoned artist. You’re simply a kidnapping victim who liked to draw in their spare time before all this, and after weeks of behaving, he let you have a box of pencils and paper to keep in your room when he wasn’t there.

Because you were good. Because he trusted you.

His mistake.

That pencil is sharpened now, razor sharp or something close to it; it won’t kill him, you’re not that naive. But you’re sure that you can jab it into his flesh enough to hurt, enough to send him to his knees long enough for you to rush into his office and get one of the knives he keeps in his desk. And that’s what will kill him. That’s what will secure his death--and your freedom.

It’s his mistake, too, that he gives you a hint of privacy now and then. When you get dressed, especially. In the morning, when you change; in the evening, when you shower, then again when you change into your nightgown.

The pencil would be useless, without that hint of privacy. Because it had given you the opportunity to slip the pencil from your shirt sleeve and, quick as a bird, slide it underneath the comforter before he took you to the bathroom to shower.

And here you were, sitting in bed with a hand tucked under the comforter and holding onto that pencil; skin scrubbed raw and smelling of sterile soap. Clean. Fresh. Ready.

He’s still turned around, and you put an earnest smile into your voice.

“I’m dressed, Kai.” Dressed and ready to never call him Kai again. Dressed and trembling,  fingers tight around the pencil, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

The perfect time comes when he turns around, eyes crinkled in what must be a smile behind his mask, and approaches to tuck your blanket over you. It’s a soft think--pink and sweet, like he wants you to be.

His fingers are smoothing out the blanket, his words forming some sort of soothing goodnight message, when your arm whips around and you stab the pencil straight into his neck.

The pencil makes contact, you think. But it doesn’t plunge into his flesh the way you imagined it would. It scratches--leaving a jagged quickly -reddening gash--and Overhaul falls to one knee, giving you only a second to scamper off the bed and flee through the doorway connecting your room to his office.

He’s not down for the count, you can hear his steps, hear him shouting something--your thoughts are all jumbled and when your trembling hands grip the handle of his desk and yank at the drawer, it doesn’t budge. He locked it, today. Or maybe it was always locked and you were too stupid to realize it.

There’s no time to kill him, no time to attack--you can only run. So you do, socked feet scampering towards the door of his office, hoping it led to some sort of escape route. 

The door doesn’t budge, and you stupidly shove yourself against it, feeling hot, useless tears streaming down your face. Everything happens too fast and too slow all at the same time. It didn’t work, none of it worked, and you’re left pressing your back against the door and watching as an extremely pissed off Kai Chisaki stalks towards you.

You’ve never seen him like this--hives breaking out on his skin, one hand clutching his neck, eyes practically bulging out in anger and betrayal.

A gloved hand reaches down to grip your wrist, yanking you upward with an uncharacteristic force. You were delicate, a doll; an ornament to be cared for and cleaned. Or so he said, with words and actions. Which is why the tight grip, so harsh you wonder if your bones might snap, comes at you like a bucket of ice water.

“There will be consequences.”

The words are spit out, and your mind supplements the image of wispy saliva hitting the inside of his mask, a bitter poison. No sooner than he warns you, he grabs your arm, gloves slipping on your skin as he tightens his grip and yanks you upward.

Instinct tells you what he’s going to do, and your body tries to turn to lead, but there’s no escaping his grip in the moment. He drags you over to his desk and you see the inside of the drawer he pulls open--all manner of syringes and bottles and you already imagine a needle sliding into your skin, turning you to jelly.

It’s not the needle he grabs, but the handcuffs. And that makes your stomach twist worse.

The moment when you’re dragged back into your bedroom and tossed harshly onto your bed blurs over the next few hours. You will remember the feeling of hitting the mattress, the awkward way your arm bent as he held it down and snapped the cuff over your wrist and then over the pole of the bed. You will remember your heart pounding like a rabbit.

But you’re not sure exactly what Overhaul said--or if he said anything at all--or if you did anything but cry. Did you beg him not to hurt you? Did you tell him to fuck off? Did he tell you to go to sleep, or was it an implied command? 

It’s hard to say.

You’re not even sure if the later sound of hot steaming water from his office bathroom, the image of him scrubbing his skin where the pencil scraped it, is real or imagined. 

Sleep does not come for hours and when it does, you have a horrid nightmare of a large, unfathomable monster sitting on your arms, keeping you immobile. 

--

“You’ve lost the right to move without permission.”

There are many things you imagined Overhaul might do to you. You thought he would toss you back into that horrid room with its white walls and stripped toilet; or cut your meal to miniscule rations, to teach you to be grateful. Or make you sit in the damned clinic of his while he tested your blood to find some practical reason for your rebellion.

You didn’t imagine he would cuff your hands behind your back, and keep you on a chain that kept you leashed to the bed. It wasn’t even long enough to walk around the room, not that there was much to do anymore; when you woke up the morning after, your books, papers, pencils, had all been stripped away. 

It was a wonder he didn’t take the shelf with them.

“They will come off,” he says, gesturing with his hand towards the chain and cuffs, “only if I permit it. At meal times.” He pauses. “And bath time.” 

What relief might have come with the thought of being alone in the bath--those sweet moments of privacy--dissipates a few minutes afterward, when he leads you, hands uncuffed and sore, into the bathroom.

Only he doesn’t, as usual, usher you inside and give you privacy to change and wash yourself. He doesn’t even turn around. He simply stares at you, until anxiety forces you to speak, your voice a squeaky whisper.

“Aren’t you going to…” The full sentence doesn’t come. Aren’t you going to leave? Let me get undressed? Look away? 

He only blinks at you. 

“No.” The word is short and clipped and awful in its simplicity.  “You might try something. You’ve lost the right to privacy.”

Heat rises to your cheek and awful bile claws up your throat with it. He can’t--he wouldn’t look; that is one thing he never did, despite all his hovering and controlling. 

He must catch your thoughts, because from behind the mask comes an almost throaty murmur. “I’m not base. I’m only watching to make sure you don’t do something dangerous to yourself or others.” He swallows, his throat bobbing. “Don’t trouble yourself about that.”

Oh, but you do trouble yourself. Your hands shake as you pull off your nightgown, smelling of sweat from last night’s activities, and fold it carefully on the countertop. Shame crawls inside your stomach and you cover yourself as best you can, shifting positions as you step into the tub. 

Your hands reach instinctively to draw the curtain behind you, only to realize that the curtain that you usually pull for your showers is gone. 

“Take a bath,” he says, simply. “Until you’ve earned the curtain back.”

Something low rumbles in your stomach and you know it’s not hunger. Slowly, you lower yourself down into the tub, pulling your knees to your chest to cover as much as possible. Because he’s still just--staring at you.

He stares even as you turn on the water and begin to fill the tub and wash yourself, quickly as can be, with hot water and soap. Showering usually felt good; it was like taking away a layer of invisible grime that built up around him. But with his eyes on you the entire time, it’s like the grime sticks to your skin, no matter how much you scrub. 

The lack of commentary on your nakedness is somehow just as worse than his gaze upon it.

--

Life, such as it was, quickly turns to shit. 

Overhaul keeps you chained to the bed unless he’s in the room. And even then, there are times where he insists you stay cuffed or leashed to the bed like a wayward dog. 

“You can’t be trusted on your own,” is all he says, if you ask him about it. 

He doesn’t look away when you get dressed. When you bathe. Even when you go to the bathroom.

When you protest too much, when you squirm and kick at the chain and pull your hands harshly against the cuffs, he merely threatens to gag you; to tighten the chain; to leave you cuffed when you bathe and eat, which means he’ll be the one doing the scrubbing and the feeding.

You stop fighting, after that. The threat hits your chest hard and you’re forced to accept the new routine.

That’s what it is, after all. A routine. 

You accept it for what it is--life, now. A new reality.

It’s your new reality that you sleep in soft nightgowns with a cold chain around your ankle and a cuff on your wrist. It’s your new reality that Overhaul stands and stares while you bathe, taking in your body and occasionally critiquing your washing technique. 

It’s your new reality that you have no such thing as privacy, no such thing as softness or entertainment or the quiet enjoyment that comes (however unbidden) from reading your books in the afternoon or drawing on a fresh sheet of paper. 

Now, you have only yourself and Overhaul and the basic functions of life. 

--

“You’ve been behaving,” he remarks one day. A simple compliment for the simple act of no longer fighting against the cuffs, no longer tugging at the chain around your ankle. 

It’s true, though. You haven’t fought. Or argued about the new rules. And you haven’t so much as thought about another escape attempt. The last one was so futile, and look where it got you? Chained and stared at, like an animal in a zoo; hardly worth the effort.

But–but, but, but. When you go into the bathroom that morning, the shower curtain is back.

He doesn’t turn around when you change, and it doesn’t bother you because, after all---it’s a start.

And that night--

“The handcuffs will stay off,” he tells you mildly, locking the chain around your ankle, “if you continue to behave.”

You do behave.

The next week, it is the chain that will stay off--if you continue to behave. And you strive to behave, because the thrill of being able to properly toss and turn and curl up in bed is worth it. And it’s not as if misbehaving got you anywhere before, did it? 

And one blissful morning, you wake up to find your books returned. Your papers. And--not pencils, no. Large crayons, the kind you give to children. Still, still, it’s something.

You swear you can see his smile from behind the mask as you marvel at them, thinking of the ways you’ll be able to occupy yourself with the bright, waxy colors. 

“These will remain,” he says, “if you continue to behave.”

And you do--

You do behave.

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine echolocation reader (Death Angel) using her echolocation during a combat mission and saving the 141.

Cod X reader Death Angel! Reader au! Female reader

Previous -

Masterlist

Task force 141’s mission was almost over, their last leg was to find and get to their safe house. They’d all been bruised and banged up but no one was severely injured. It had basically been successful up to here.

Reader! knew something was off. The group had made their way into the front gate of the safe house, where they were meant to lay low, until EVAC could reach them. The house itself looked abandoned but, there was this nagging feeling. The hairs on the back of her neck pricked. Goosebumps littered her skin as they approached the farm house.

Reader! signals for everyone to halt and stay in position, relaxing her jaw so the blood stops rushing to her ears. The sounds of the world filtered through her ears, forming into a vision of information.

The field mice scurrying over the grass.

The crickets trilling away.

The men’s laboured breathing, hearts all beating at different paces. Strong. Steady.

Her own heart beat,

rising,

ticking,

speeding up.

Wait. Ticking?

Hearts don’t tick.

Reader! Frowns and clicks once before she turns around.

‘GET DOWN’ Reader! Bellows, pushing the closest person under her, surprising the hulking mass of man.

Reader! Covering her ears as she goes down with Ghost. Trying to cover his body with her own.

The 141 smells it before they hear it. Just for a split second. The sharp tang of gunpowder and sulfur.

And then followed the noise.

Reader who covers her ears as the ground shakes. Wood, dirt, and stone flying overhead.

Ghosts arm wrapped around Reader!’s waist, somewhat confused and discombobulated. The rest of the team were on the ground, just in time to dodge all the projectiles.

‘Everyone okay?’ A gruff voice called out. Captain Price was ok.

‘Me ‘n Gaz are ‘lright.’ Soap calls out with his thick accent. Soap didn't sound like he was in pain. That was good.

‘Death’s bleeding.’ The voice below Reader! calls out, sitting up. Reader! has since rolled off Ghost and is now cupping her shoulder. It wasn't so bad, she couldn't see it so she didn't know how bad it was.

‘It’s just a splinter, pull it out and we can radio in.’ Reader! grumbles, feeling annoyed that she didn’t realise that the house was rigged. She turns her back to Ghost, gesturing for him to take it out.

Reader! who hisses as the piece of wood lodged in her shoulder being ripped out, refraining from making excessive noise.

The 141 decide to rummage through the remains of the farm house to see if there are clues. Sifting through the rubble and remains to determine the type of explosive.

Reader! who radios into command and reports the incident. She hears the surprise in Lasswell's voice and knows it wasn't planted by her.

So who planted it?

[wri0thesley]

thinking about an apocalypse au only . . . you, pampered and soft and unbroken, have not really had to deal with it. you, with your nice rich family, had the money to prepare; a bunker that may as well have been its own house, years worth of rations (enough to last until the radiation is at safe levels, at any rate). your family and most of their staff. it is not quite the life you’d imagined, but a few years underground has not been quite the trial it could have been.

which is more than can be said for the people who did not gave your family’s money and safe place.

see . . . when the radiation goes down, when you think the outside world is safe again, you were always supposed to emerge. and all of those other high class families like yours; they’ll come out too, and the riff-raff is exterminated, and you can get around to repopulating and rebuilding. the right kind of society.

the best laid plans of mice and men and all that.

because of course everybody else hasn’t perished. they’ve been out there trying to make a living! starving and fighting and poisoning one another. living in this brand new lawless land. and . . . don’t think they didn’t notice all of those rich parasites crawling into their holes to wait out the hard parts, leaving them for dead. don’t think they’re not waiting for you to come back out now your little sensors are pinging ‘safe! come out!’

your family and staff are casualties. but you! you, all fresh and untouched (and fertile, of course, when the end of the world has had such a terrible effect on so many people with the capacity to bear children) . . . you’re useful. you’re at once a piece of art (your hands so soft, your hair well-taken care of, why - you look like you’ve never worked a day in your life! and the easy access to rations ensures your thighs and chest and hips are pleasingly curved, a picture of wanton excess to people who’ve had to fight for scraps for years now) and an absolutely useless symbol of what they’ve lost. you can’t even garden, for god’s sake.

but despite that they take you along (or even just one of them, if your family fucked someone over who’s dangerous enough). and you have to wonder if the world outside is really worth it.

[cupidsarrcws]

i’m in my famous!reader era soooo

imagine being like this rising pop star, being the new sex symbol in music, and being the absolute party girl. your publicist is absolutely fed up with you and your team is starting to think you have a drug problem after showing up to some of your studio sessions looking zoned out and sluggish.

you’re young, you’re stupid, and you’ve definitely made some bad decisions— but you’re famous, a dream you’ve had since you were nine. you’ve wanted to sing your heart out ever since you. old speak and this was your chance.

were you blowing it slightly? yes! but you were living in the moment and your fans love how careless you are (even if their parents don’t exactly enjoy the message you’re sending to their children).

you’re out for the night in some college bar, ignoring every call from your publicist, and dancing with some guy you barely just met when they caught your eye from across the room.

a blonde and brunette, staring at you intensely as you swayed your hips. you smirked softly, ignoring the guy calling out after you as you walked away. he was only good for some free blow and shots. you stopped in front of them and looked between them, taking in their looks and expressions.

“you look like cute little mice,” you giggled, sniffling and rubbing your nose. the blonde blushed while the brunette playfully rolled his eyes.

“we do not look like mice. we’re grown men.” that earned a chuckle from you, leaning down and looking at the drink in the blondes hand. “may i?” you asked, taking a sip out of the straw while making eye contact with him. you could’ve sworn that he just had a heart attack with the way he was looking at you so intensely. you pulled away and looked over at patrick, then down at his cigarette that was hanging in his hand.

you leaned forward and he met you halfway, letting you take a drag from it before you blew the smoke into his face.

“where do i know you from?” patrick asked, both of them leaning forward. you were almost tempted to lean in all the way but were pulled out of your trance when you heard your song started to play, groaning softly and tilting your head forward.

your buzz was officially killed.

“you don’t like this song?” art asked, his voice being drowned out by the people who were singing along to it. you chuckled softly, pushing your head up and leaning in closer to them.

“i wrote it.”

you stood up, looking around the club for the girls you tagged along with but they were no where to be found. just some fucking groupies who wanted a chance to say they partied with you.

“well, it was fun meeting you boys, but i should go before my publicist drags me by my hair.”

you begin to turn around but then feel a hand wrap around your wrist, turning your head back to see the brunette standing along with his best friend.

“come back to campus with us,” he said, causing you to raise your eyebrows as you looked between them.

“come back to a school i’ve never been to with two guys i’ve never met? no thanks.” you try to pull your hand away but he stops you, smirking playfully.

“i’m patrick zwieg, and this art donaldson, stanfords best tennis player,” he teased, chuckling as his friend slaps his shoulder. “we won’t try anything, we just wanna continue talking.”

you look between them again, contemplating just kneeing him in the balls and making a run for it… but you were already in trouble anyway, your team couldn’t get a hold of you, you were supposed to be in bed hours ago, and you needed to ride out your high somewhere.

“fine… but if you guys try anything, i’ll personally castrate you.”

they smirked and led you out of the club, walking by your side as you made your way back to the dorms.

[figutii]

oh god. i have the idea of the decade fr.

fem!catwoman accomplice x civilian!jason todd

introduction: the boy is mine

bruce wayne's parents get to the black limbo without any accidents. no man with a pistol shoots at martha. thomas wayne never has to step in front of his wife. bruce doesn't have to relive a traumatic event for the rest of his life.

when bruce wayne does political posturing by visiting the yearly circus event near the city border, he doesn't know why it is a 7-year-old that has him on a chokehold. he grants the kid a scholarship, by that establishing a strong bond with the athlete. maybe it was the familarity when he saw the family trio successfully cloud swinging.

it doesn't end there. playboy bruce seems to be a magnet. after half a decade, his sports car gets disassembled on an open street at daylight. he had a meeting nearby. he doesn't file charges but instead sees potential in the neglected, young kid.

"uh, he's just another prick of high-class nepo babies," selina remarks with irony, stretching the thin black fabric of her knee socks over her leg. you know that she likes to play with men as if they are toys in the shape of mice, but still, you almost caught yourself believing that she was serious this time.

"just phone me when it's over and don't forget - if you wrap him around your finger…" her manicured fingernail glides across her matte lips, "then you'll do mami a favour, got it?"

here you are. the unnecessarily long taxi drive has led you to an antique manshion far away from the city center. it makes you raise an eyebrow at how selina has managed to play tom and jerry with the playboy bruce wayne. aren't there enough overpriviliged males in their 40s who don't reside near an isolated forest?

"ms reader? welcome to the wayne mansion, master todd is awaiting you inside," a bald-headed slim butler smiles at you, holding the door open to an entrance that has to be bigger than your kitchen, bathroom and bedroom together.

a neverending maze of long halls follows. portraits that scream auctions with a sum of money you don't want to imagine, a deer head not escaping from the corner of your eye.

"master todd, ms reader is here." so a simple knock on the door isn't how it functions here. the tiles beneath reflect your facial expression and remind you that you most likely wouldn't find your way out of this villa.

"thanks alfred."

when you look up, you almost forget to blink. the image before you reminds you of the several posts you've seen online - where girls decribe the boys they've encountered on their vacation. how they had one second of mutually intense eye contact before walking the other way and never seeing them again. that type of beauty.

black glasses, a shameful realization of a pair of fit arms and tall height. piercing blue eyes that immediately remind you of the copyrighted wayne images selina had shown you with popcorn on your laps.

"thank you mr alfred," you smile, the said man giving you a simple nod before dissapearing down the hall. you get a short fit of phobia when the entirely empty space re-appears.

"you can take a seat wherever you want," he closes the door behind him. the size of the room makes you jealous of your own shitty environment near the east end of the city. selina does have reasons after all. and you are sure that this isn't even his bedroom but an extension by just looking at the other door.

the table is clean and bigger than the second-hand table in your kitchen. chairs that don't scratch against moldy and bloated wooden plates. several posters hang above the pc setup. must be nice to live in abundance.

you don't notice that you've been all by yourself, internally. "which learning material do you want to begin with?" he asks as you eventually stop to slack off. the window grants you view to the trees, a fresh aroma spreading into the room. "i don't really mind… i have difficulties with this part," and with that, the depressing pile of unnecessary notes gets more comprehensible. for the first time in years you understand power point presentations that are devoid of words.

"makes more sense now, thank you."

after hours of learning and taking tips from the raven-haired, you quickly get a new image of the boy. you weren't that worried with how the adoptive son of the bruce wayne would turn out - like you already knew what spoiled brat you had to deal with. however, when he reveals himself as a kind and respectful young man, you feel embarassed at your false predictions.

"so, this is your special field?" your pen points at the bright blue banner of a motorcycle. arrows around it lead to boxes of text, probably describing the technical elemets of the vessel. the name of the vehicle is only quoted in kanji. you wouldn't be able to afford it anyway.

"yes, engineering," there is a slight shrug in his shoulders, him sounding nonchalant. "you don't like it?" you try to follow up with an interesting-sounding question, or at least you try to sound talkative.

"i wanted to sign up for an english literature course but my mother argues it wouldn't be worth the scholarship," he pushes his glasses back, looking at the table while doing so. you think longer after hearing his response.

"i get you. trying to make your parent proud, right?" you don't get too much of a reaction other than a nod. "you could still attend some extra curricula activities." it shouldn't be this complicated for him, no?

he meets your gaze, "i'm over it to be honest. the bookshelves are more than enough." the end of his sentence sounds like an assurance for you, but your are fine with that. you can't change much about it - well, nothing. you have to deal with loud neighbours and noisy people who can't live without permanent provocations.

"how 'bout you?"

you dramatically roll your eyes, which makes him smile. "i'm doing it for the money obviously," you joke. jason peter, as you later find out, reflects the same sarcastic sentiment with a knowing look. "just joking, it just happened to be this" you liar. "i hate every minute there, but hey!"

to have a longer conversation with him shouldn't shock you. he is open and genuine. too bad that you won't get to see him after this. as much as you like to be delusional and supportive of miss kyle, you know that he is a busy student with a schedule that's way worse than what you already have to deal with. ugh, the thought alone triggers you.

but before you say your goodbyes, you want to get some information out of him. not because selina has asked you to do so but due to gossip articles. "so, how is it living away from the city?"

he doesn't seem to be taken back, but more as in i'm used to it. he purses his lips, looking up to the ceiling, "as a child it felt very… hm, peculiar. now i've grown to love living here with alfred and bruce." you don't know why you are happy for him when he lives on more than quadruple the size of hectars. but then, alfred, him and even the playboy - they seem like good guys.

he also shares that he visits his mother on the weekends. that's the last talking point before you go.

"oh, reader! mind if i give you my number?" he exclaims when you descend the steps with alfred.

you can't help the grin. "my pleasure."

when the first drop of rain falls on your leather sleeves you are immediately rewarded with the peaceful scent of petrichor. as much as gotham is and will always be a hellhole, you can't get rid of its nostalgic values.

the billboard behind you is torn down, the face of a woman with a ring in her hand half-watching you stand on the rooftop across the lit apartments. the streets below you don't pose a danger, or at least not yet. you jump from balconies to muddy roof gardens until you reach the neighbouring districts.

the absence of too much police siren and screaming doesn't hold you back from looking out for women, children and other civilians. you relax with the regular rythm of water droplets until you have to scare away a drunk guy from a group of teenagers.

out of nowhere you hear bickering. you don't mind it much but pull up when it gets too loud.

"whaaat? scared, young boy?" three man with caps. "yeah, jus' give us the money 'n you go." another voice chimes in, "why else is a moneybag here, huh?" your observing shouldn't take longer than needed, but when you somehow recognize the pair of red jordans and strands of black hair above glasses, you freeze for a second.

"'m getting pissed now rich fucker! show me the money!"

you transport yourself to the other side, where the boy is standing against the wall. here you have a perfect view from the dripping roof.

"nah, we gotta get him," and when the low-lives stand a meter away, you don't expect jason to throw a punch at the man in the middle.

"the fuck are you doin' you son of a-" the bottom of your heels press against solid surface and you hear an immediate "what the fuck?!" you are a little bit out of balance until you see another mugger getting closer.

you target his knees and hit him on the side of his skull. your throat gets engulfed by wet clothing. another one is trying to choke you from behind but you are prepared and drill your fingers into his face with a kick into his groin. he cries out in pain as he folds into half.

when someone yells, you almost forget the last one. he holds a piece of what looks like a broken drawers in his hands. you are met with resistance as you nudge against him and are able to snatch it away after many attemps. then you smash it against his side.

what you don't expect is jason throwing punches at the macho in a yellow sweater. he does a good job but you take a hard swing with your leg brace and succed at bringing him down.

from the corner of your eyes you catch one of them trying to get up, but you signal jason to run. after turning into an alleyway, it's unbelievable that you still hear hawling. "get that bitch!" you don't say anything, holding tightly around his waist and having your grapple gun ready.

you are too consumed with the fear of falling when you wiggle sideways - opossed to vertically flying - that you almost blend out the stuck breath in his throat. the cityscape at night was mesmerizing to marvel, neon signs of cafés, motels and bars greeting you. different patches in blues, reds, yellows and whites coating bland skyscrapers in vivid colours. the most tireless character has to be the pearly moon above gotham.

your foot land on stable ground, plummeting onto all four. the boy next to you exhales, facing the night sky. you feel guilty for snatching him away like he is a puppet. he's definetely weighing way more than a doll, the close crash against a water pipe being proof. you really needed to get rid of those losers.

"hey-" you stop. no matter if you apologize, this isn't personal. you also fear of exposing yourself, jason todd is not stupid. anyone would put two and two together when they hear your voice. don't forget to lower your tone, or else cut if off completely.

he looks up. you catch yourself melting at the cute cat-like face he makes. cheeks red and glasses crooked. you stand up, beckoning him to do the same, the hook in your hand prepared for another wobbly flight. by the expression he makes - you know he'd rather jump off then risk another possible hit against concrete but the 9th floor isn't save for that.

without another word you have him against you, this time even managing to get smoothly between apartment blocks, spas and shouting men behind their windows. you are too focused to cherish the way he has his big arms around your shoulders. oh, and he is very warm and confortable. his head does move up once or twice, possibly goggling at the billboards.

you even take a detour to stay a little longer in the air, his longer legs entangling with yours. if you get home you immediately have to research how much this device can hold, just for the safety of your future missions.

his hair tickles your cheek when you drop him at a bus stop. the wealthier part shouldn't be as threatening as the east side. you quickly get on the roof of a bakery and crouch down. your index finger wiggles as you get his attention, voice distorting like you have a sore throat, "careful next time." you only see his curious blue eyes before you dissapear under the luna.

the digits on your screen scream anxiety, your thumb twitching. selina told you to just call him although you made it clear that it wasn't easy. there was no chance that the accomplice of catwoman would befriend a millionair's son. for her it's not a moral dilemma, and that's okay. it is just unrealistic for you, personally. a little crush would never last. on top of that, you don't have any right to expect anything. this isn't about you.

"gotham today, my name is valerie vale and we are in front of the crime scene at marco's jeweler. recent cases of high-end brands closing down their shops-" you yank off the cable. your belly aches, repeatingly inhaling for air.

you

hey, hope you're doing fine

how's your week?

the dark blue outlook does minimal work at easing your mind. instead, you take a seat and listen to the sink in the kitchen. you are restless - you can't figure out why. after all, he's free from injuries. maybe you were too harsh on him?

selina wasn't fazed by the incident. "great job sweetie," is what she sung as she danced through the front door. well, it can't be changed. he's well and that should be enough. visiting his parent's home at the end of the week is inevitable. bruce should give him a team of bodyguards if that's what's needed.

it's in the afternoon, sun dipping through the curtains. after some late-night errands you aren't motivated to do anything. your brain collects all your to-do's like a vacuum and you scoff. the brightness of your phone leads you to another fit of rage.

a message.

jason todd

good morning reader, my weekend has been rather out of the ordinary. it's a long story and i don't intend to bore you. how was your day?

you

i wouldn't mind jason

tell me

you face the walnut door weeks after the short exchange. bruce and selina have hit it off, the latter wanting you to accept another invitation. this time you have let the depressing bag of academic work behind and instead brought some books along with you.

"ah, i'm sure that master todd will be delighted by the present," alfred accompanies you up the stairs. "i'm quite devestated by the state of the heating stove so if you'll excuse me miss reader, i have a long way to go." you immediately reassure him that you can go find his room and part ways.

"jason?" you ask after there has been no reaction. five minutes are gone and you aren't keen on waiting another one. his room is empty but by the sounds behind the other door you allow yourself to sit down. it's not lady-like to barge into someone else's private zone but you aren't going to wait while stuffed bats are drilling holes into the back of your head.

you carefully place the paper bag on the free tabletop and examine. a few movie posters, stacks of literature and portraits of family. the room is halfway illuminated by the long monitor. must have cost three months of rent, you twist your mouth. the look is washed off your face when you stare into the white screen.

"catwoman and accomplice at it again! who is the unknown criminal next to the ex-arkham asylum detainee?"

your heart drills against your rib cage, legs stiff as the sickening font of black letters laughs at you. the door is still closed. you count down. then you do another round and the door doesn't open. that's when you step forward and bend closer.

"17th of this month has witnessed another victim of craftman's businesses throughout gotham city. it's none other then thief and arkham asylum escapee catwoman. after years, the police struggle to identify her real name and location. what we know from past documents are her ambitions: robbing and sabotaging the craftmanship of the working class," you crunch your face at the media fabrication, "a young policeman by the name of jim gordon tells gotham times that catwoman doesn't work alone but rather closely with another criminal-"

"reader."

· .’★: many don't know how muchhh reblogs help and motivate us writers. pls consider doing so and comment ur thoughts. likes alone don't change much. part 2 follows if there is enough support.

[42ap]

What if the wax statue of Stan did come to life and is now a rolling talking head. Before Ford return, Stan would use wax!Stan as a practice of what to he wants to say to Ford.

When Ford returns, Stan became intimated to his brother's current state and decides to keep his feelings to himself; thus, causing him to shut off from Ford. Ford sees this as Stan still being mad at him.

While Ford continues being oblivious to Stan's true feelings until he stumbled upon a wax head of Stan. He proceeds to tell wax!Stan all the things he wishes to say to Stan but is too stubborn to.

In the end, it turns out the head was alive and proceed to openly both how the other feel.

This is such a brilliant idea! I can just imagine how utterly broken wax!Stan would be, caught between two stubborn old men who won’t tell the truth, ahhhhh! So much gossip, so much trouble😭 Poor wax!Stan must spend every night in the pipes, complaining to other wax figures and mice about how much idiotic emotional conflict he has to endure every day.

The final eruption scene for wax!Stan could be something like this: when the two of them start fighting again, they’re arguing so intensely that even the kids have to come and try to stop them. Ford says, “You won’t even talk to me!” and Stan replies, “Excuse me? Who’s the one trying to kick me out?!”

Then, there's a loud crash above their heads, and wax!Stan falls down from the upper level, landing in the middle of the table, and then says, “Can you two stop lying already? I’ve had enough! You! Can you finally summon the courage to admit you regret what you said, that you want him to stay? You! Can you have the guts to say just a tenth of those things you only say to me? Are you really prepared to die alone with all these unsaid words, you coward!”

Then, everyone falls silent. Dipper and Mabel exchange a look, then leave the room with the still-screaming wax!Stan, leaving Ford and Stan in awkward silence.

Stanford: “Okay, sorry. Honestly, I didn’t want to kick you out.”

Stanford: “So, what exactly was that wax head trying to make you say...?”

[taeaura]

Thoughts on how the TCM (2003 & 2006) guys would react to going to kill a cockroach and it starts flying?

I know for a fact hoyt would be all macho and pissy and yelling at everyone for not being man enough to kill it and then he screams and runs away as soon as that shit starts flying

TCM {2003 / 2006} Men Reacting to a {Flying} Cockroach

Jedidiah seems like a kid who would love observing creatures and wildlife but would be terrified as soon as that thing started flying. ESPECIALLY if it flew towards him or got on him unexpectedly.

Monty would probably just get his dog to eat it or something - or call Thomas to catch / release it.

Hoyt's is hard to imagine considering this guy is so different depending on the situation - But you're right; He'd most definitely groan about "just kill it - it's a harmless bug, ect." up until it starts flying. He'd probably try to avoid the roach whilst yelling at "someone" to get it out of annoyance and slight discomfort.

Thomas would just kill it. He'd be walking to catch / squish it and be a bit startled once it starts flying - but he'd still get it either way. Working in a slaughterhouse - There's flies, larvae, gnats, roaches, rats, spiders, mice, wasps, maybe larder beetles; All sorts of pests and unpredictable creatures which he'd probably be used to.

Thank you for the ask 🫀 I think I got everyone on the list? If I didn't, I'll update the ask if you'd like me to!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello, can I request a Female Sanji Reader with Yandere Thor, Poseidon, Hades, Qin Shi Huang, Jack, Hercules, Ares, Hermes, Buddha, Zerofuku, Beelzebub, Tesla, Hajun and Loki who’s a chef, and to everyone’s surprise, is actually a Human Fighter (No one believes this beautiful and flirty woman is a fighter… until they discover her Bounty as a pirate from her world as ‘Black Leg Y/N’)

Imagine everyone’s surprise when Reader refuses to use a Volundr, but instead uses her legs, and everyone loses their absolute MIND over reader ‘flying’ (Sky Walk), using Observation and Armament Haki, which can actually harm the gods, her Raid Suit and Diable Jambe, and Reader loudly proclaiming that she’ll never use her hands to fight as they’re only meant for cooking

Reader was going easy on her Opponent, but he just has to open his mouth and insult Brunhilde and the Valkyries Sisters, calling them ‘Harlots’, which sets Reader off and goes batshit calling God Opponent a lot of colorful names, though he did get the upper hand by trapping Reader’s legs and began to crush her, and everyone thought Reader was dead… until she revealed herself with her body bent awkwardly (Cue to both Humans and Gods screaming) as she bends her body back to place, and while she was distracted, her opponent was aiming for her neck, only for his weapon to shatter upon impact, which shocked everyone, as Reader yelled in anger “That hurt you Bastard!” (And wins her fight)

Reader wins her fight but everyone demands to know if Reader is a Demi-God or some sort of monster… only for a pink haired man named Reiji (Genderbent Reiju) comes in to explain that Reader, along with himself and their other brothers were experimented as children, and tells Reader’s tragic tale of being ‘The Failure of Germa’, but is the success of their late mother who willingly drank a special concoction to have at least one of her children normal, and was willing to sacrifice her health and life just for one of her children to live as a normal human (And Reader had to deal with her family’s abuse, until she ran away and found a new father in Zeff, who raised her to cook, fight and take care of herself)

Imagine their fury when they learn Reader was in an arranged marriage, and her Husband-to-be was planning to kill her (Yet Reader doesn’t even hate him, rather she’s still kind to him) and was even willing to save her family, that has been nothing but abusive and horrible to her (This reveals that Reader has a kind and caring heart, which is shown even more with her feeding mice and anyone who’s hungry)

They’re even more shocked that Reader is a Royal, yet is incredibly humble, kind and laid back, as she defends a chef from an angry deity who was throwing his plate of food at her face (Only for Reader to grab it and harshly scold said god for their stupidity, and apologizes to the chef for spilling the food on the floor and proceeds to eat it, and just compliments Chef for the delicious meal, which makes Chef swoon and cry) as Reader reveals she despises those who waste food and men who would harm women

Sorry if this is a lot, I love Sanji (He’s the gentleman of men)

-You were very popular around Valhalla, yes you were stunningly beautiful, and so warm and cheerful, flirting with every man hat was single, and being so warm, inviting and protective of woman, but the real secret to your popularity was your food!

-You had so many visitors to the restaurant you worked in, helping out the chef, because you enjoyed cooking so much and there were so many, humans and gods, who flocked from all over to eat your delicious cooking!

-When you walked out as a fighter for Ragnarok, jaws dropped all around as you gave a dainty twirl, waving your arms around, calling out happily to the crowd.

-Your opponent looked irritated that you were a woman, and he was quick to underestimate you, big mistake!

-You quickly had everyone’s attention, using Sky Walk to leap up high into the air, literally walking on air before you front flipped, spinning rapidly down to your opponent, “Diable Jambe!”

-Your leg seemed to illuminate with flames as you came down hard, sending your opponent’s skull into the ground below, breaking it under the force.

-When you backflipped away from him you heard many cheering for you while others were in awe of your skills.

-Zeus shouted down, “How are you so powerful?!” Heimdall then announced while your opponent was trying to stand up, “I can answer that! Before her untimely death, Y/N was a notorious pirate, Black Leg Y/N! She sailed the Seven Seas as part of one of the strongest crews ever and had one of the highest bounties in the world!!”

-The crowd was immediately in an uproar, many cheering and many yelling out in shock while your hands came to your hips, a grin on your lips.

-When your opponent was finally back on his feet, you quickly went on the attack, using a barrage of rapid kicks, easily taking care of business.

-He shouted at you as you blocked his blow with your leg, “Why aren’t you using your hands?!” you kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him flying back, “These hands are for cooking only, bastard!!”

-He managed to land a harsh blow on you, trapping you under a large piece of the arena ground that he ripped out, crushing you beneath it, a sharp scream leaving your lips.

-You managed to get free, barely dodging a fatal blow, your body was broken, bloody, and crooked, you heard people all over screaming before you tensed your body and you body started to contort, dislocated bones relocated, bones cracking.

-You inhaled deeply through your nose before you charged, your knee meeting his nose, “THAT HURT!!”

-Many were commenting if you were a demi-goddess, while others were concerned you were a demon, but a man with soft bubblegum pink hair spoke, “No, she’s a human, just a very strong one.”

-Attention turned to him, your older brother, Reiji, as he explained yours and his past, that you were both nobles, which stunned so many people, because you were so humble and kind, compared to other royals.

-An actual king whom you kicked in the face told the tale that he had been screaming at a young female chef and threw the plate at her, and you came to her defense, kicking him in the face before scolding him for not only wasting his food, but for attacking a woman. He quickly learned to respect women after that.

-Reiji continued, telling everyone around about your mother, who nearly killed herself to ensure that at least one of her children would not be a weapon, and that child was you, the only girl amongst 4 brothers.

-Many were outraged to hear of the cruelty you had faced, not only from your family, giving Reiji the only pass as he had been the one to help you escape, where you had found Zeff, who raised you.

-Jaws dropped as your valkyrie partner fused with you, forming a Raid Suit, and your opponent shouted, “You humans and those harlots are nothing but a bunch of cheats!!”

-The raid suit immediately fell away as you charged, your Armament Haki covering your legs as you kicked him straight back into the wall, “Respect women you bastard!!!”

-Reiji chuckled, leaning his chin on his hand, “I remember when she was like this at her wedding~” eyes turned quickly on him, as a camera had gotten onto him somehow and he was telling your tale of how your fiancé was ready to kill you on your wedding day, as well as your whole family, but you harbored no ill feelings towards him.

-Many were stunned by your kind hard, hearing that you saved your family, despite despising them all, except for Reiji, because you didn’t want them to die, but you had proved your strength to them before running back off with your crew.

-You won your fight, humanity and gods alike cheering for you, hearing what a strong woman you were, and how kind and warm hearted you were, despite your hardships as you grinned up at your big brother and he chuckled warmly down at you.

-Thor- He met you backstage as soon as you made it there and your eyes turned into hearts, “Thor~~~!!” he chuckled softly, catching you in a hug, pecking your forehead softly before he picked you up princess style, making your cheeks turn a bit red, “I knew you were going to win, Y/N.” you grinned up at him, “It was a good battle, but he made the mistake of insulting my friend!” he chuckled once more, taking you to the infirmary, relief filling him, as he was worried a few times, like when you got crushed. He was glad you were still here with him.

-Poseidon- You beamed brightly, running over to him, “Poseidon~!” he turned, seeing you still bloody and injured from your fight, and he was quick to have you in his arms, “You’re injured, idiot. I need to get you patched up.” You beamed brightly up at him, pecking his cheek which he did glance down at you for, not smiling, but you did see this face soften only slightly, “I almost attacked him when he hurt you. Nobody is allowed to hurt you.” You blushed cutely, holding your cheeks, which made him smile softly.

-Hades- He found you in the infirmary, getting x-rays of your bones that had been broken and you beamed brightly as he walked in, “My love!” he chuckled, coming over and pecked your cheek, but stayed out of the way for the examination. His scowl deepened as he saw the multitude of bandages on you, the wounds, his fury growing to see that this other god, who was lucky he was dead, had put his hands on you and caused you pain. He didn’t notice you were finished until you hugged him, his head on your chest, “Hades, let’s go get something to eat! I’;; cook for you!” he was quick to refuse, having you in his arms again, “You’re not, you’re going to rest.” You pouted lightly, but he wasn’t budging.

-Qin Shi Huang- In the infirmary, you were being patched up before you heard the rumbling of someone charging closer and closer before the door opened, revealing your love and you instantly melted, “Huang~” he was quick to have his hands on your face, inspecting the wounds and the bandages carefully, “Are you hurt? Of course, you are- what am I saying?! Is she all right? Are you all right?” you pecked his cheek after pulling him down, halting his rant but the valkyrie nurses thought it was rather funny before you had him sit next to you so you could lean your head on his shoulder, “I had no idea you were so strong!” you beamed, flexing your arm, “I’ve had lots of practice and experience!” he laughed warmly, leaning over to peck your cheek.

-Jack- He was waiting for you and your partner to arrive backstage; she grinned as she saw Jack waiting for you, rushing off to peek back behind the corner as Jack embraced you, pecking your forehead, “You had me worried there for a moment my dear. I am glad that you are back by my side.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on the tips of your toes, pecking his lips, “Of course Jack, I gave you my word I would come back!” he chuckled softly, brushing your hair behind your ear, “Yes you did, I’m sorry to have doubted you.” You weren’t bothered, not in the slightest, before he led you to his room to patch you up himself.

-Hercules- He was running towards you, “Y/N!” as you arrived backstage and you grinned, opening your arms wide, “Hercules!” he swept you up into his arm, twirling around which made you giggle warmly as you hugged him before he tilted your head up and kissed you so passionately, one of your legs popped up. You were flushed when he pulled back before he picked you up, holding you like you were made of glass, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” you apologized, but you knew he wasn’t angry, at you at least, he was more furious that you had been so badly hurt, another man putting his hands on you. You could feel the heat radiating from Hercules, but that was quickly remedied with a couple of kisses and lots of affection afterwards.

-Ares- He met you in the infirmary, his eyes wide to see you so bruised and beat up, but he relaxed as you grinned over at him, “Hang tight handsome! I need to wash off and change so I can get patched up!” he nodded and waited patiently and when you came out, you could see the furious aura surrounding him, seeing all of the wounds. He, however, couldn’t do much, as you took a seat on his lap, keeping him there as he would dare not move you, something you knew and used to your advantage and something the nurses thought was cute as you spoke with him about your fight, finding it rather fun, except for the injuries. He pecked your forehead gently, saying nothing, but you could tell he was still pouting, which was adorable!

-Hermes- As soon as you and your valkyrie said your goodbyes, hugging each other, you were in his arms, sweeping you easily off your feet. You beamed up at him, “My love!” he chuckled softly, enjoying your kisses as he was focused on getting you to the infirmary, “You were amazing out there, Y/N. Were you really a pirate?” You just laughed warmly, your arms around his neck, “I was, but I was a chef first, then I was the cook on my crew!” he was surprised to learn this, as you didn’t really talk much about your past, other than your friends and Zeff and your time as a cook. He enjoyed learning this new side about you, wanting to learn more and more, a soft smile on his face.

-Buddha- You found him lounging on your couch in your waiting room after you got bandaged up, holding your jacket and vest in your hands, leaving only your sleeveless shirt on, as you had been quite roughed up. You smiled warmly as he opened his arms, wanting cuddles and he was quick to have you wrapped in his arms as you sighed in content, pressing a soft kiss to his collar bone as he moved his lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other, “I knew you were strong but…damn, that was hot!” you blushed cutely, sitting up, “You think so?” he grinned, locking his hands behind your back, “Absolutely! Seeing you kick ass like that was delicious.” You laughed at his slight tease before he pecked your forehead softly, telling you to get some rest.

-Zerofuku- The child ran for you as you made it backstage, “Y/N!” you could see he was crying as he was quick to leap into your arms, hugging you tightly, his face pressed into your chest for a moment before he pulled back, “You’re hurt!” you brushed his tears away, but gave him a warm grin, “But I’m alive! C’mon, let’s go get me patched up then we can go relax!” he cheered, holding onto your hand and actually dragged you after him to the infirmary, as he didn’t like seeing you in pain. He sat beside you, holding onto your arm like he was the one being treated, which was rather cute as you pecked his forehead softly, making him beam up at you. He was so stinking cute!

-Beelzebub- You yawned softly as you walked into your private waiting room, jacket and vest off and your shirt untucked and only barely buttoned, as you were covered in bandages. You let out a small squeak, seeing your lover sitting there, waiting for you before he was quick to come over, seeing your now bandaged wounds as you smiled warmly up at him, “Told you I’d win!” he couldn’t keep the smile from his lips, nodding, “Yes you did, and now- you’re resting until further notice!” he gave you no room to argue, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you over to the couch before sitting down, holding you in his lap. You arms were around his neck as you enjoyed his warmth, “Guess I will rest, only if you hold me.” he chuckled, his arms encircling your waist, holding you close.

-Nikola- Poor baby was nearly in tears when you made it back to him, greeting him with a bright smile, despite being bloody and bruised and he was quick to have you in his arms, sprinting to the infirmary, begging the nurses to save you. It’s not like you were dying, but you couldn’t stand seeing that poor heartbroken look on his face. You had been taking all the treatments with not even a whimper before you spoke, “Nikola, I want you to hold my hand, I’m scared~” the nurses thought it was cute that he took it so seriously, immediately sitting at your side, holding your hand and talking about his research, to distract you, unaware that you were the one distracting him!

-Hajun- The nurses were nervous under his fierce gaze, watching them patch you up. He didn’t like other’s touching you, not even other females, but he was allowing it only because they were helping you at the moment. You leaned your head on his arm, trying to get his attention on you and off of the poor nurse, but you couldn’t say anything, as you knew he was worried about you, which warmed your heart. In a rare soft moment, he brushed your hair from your face, “Does it hurt?” you smiled softly up at him, “It does, but it will heal. That’s proof that I’m alive!” he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, breathing out a bit deeply as he relaxed, you were alive, that’s all that mattered.

-Loki- Despite being the one injured, you were the one comforting him as you laid in one of the infirmary beds, his head on your lap, arms around your waist, pouting, as his shoulders were sagging, and he wasn’t talking. You didn’t like seeing your lover quiet, because he was only quiet when he was sleeping, or upset, and he wasn’t sleeping. You scratched his head gently, stroking through his hair and he nuzzled down into you a bit deeper and he froze when he felt you flinch, hitting one of the wounds that was a bit more tender. He pulled back instantly, looking scared, his eyes meeting yours and you instantly smiled, opening your arms, “I want a proper hug!” he smiled softly, saying nothing but carefully crawled forward and hugged you properly, feeling you, feeling that you were still with him.

[fangirl94stuff]

Phil Manansala (OM&M)

'Here you go, a nice glass of water. Should we do this on another day Phil?'

Your partner Phil looks up at you from his crouched position on the floor of your nursery surrounded by pieces of wood, bolts and screws and shakes his head while reaching out for the glass of water to take a break.

'This should have been done before I went on tour, you could go into labour at any minute y/n and our baby wouldn't have anywhere to sleep.'

You sit in the rocking chair Phil had assembled in the morning and rub your big belly, your baby being a week overdue, 'maybe they are waiting until they have a bed,' you joke.

Phil was right about the crib needing to be done before OM&M's short album promotion tour, but it kept getting delayed, only arriving a week before he came back.

Phil sighs and drinks some water, 'why did they make assembly so hard? Are we going about this the wrong way?'

You continue to rub your belly, honestly, at this point, I'm not even sure if there is a right way. But no way were we paying someone to do it for us.'

Phil nods his head in agreement, 'then what do we do?'

You smile at him, 'The only thing we can do...keep trying. Just imagine how cute our baby will look in that crib you built.'

'You're right y/n, I'm not giving up, hand me that screwdriver next to you please,' he says proudly.

You hand him the screwdriver and pick up the instruction booklet, 'Take panel four and attach it to panel three...'

It takes a couple more hours but finally, the crib is built, and you can't help but hug Phil, 'we make a good team. Give or take some communication problems along the way.'

He hugs you back, 'We sure do, but if any of the guys ask this thing went up smoothly, I'm not having them mock me after they offered to help and I turned it down.'

You put your finger on your lips, 'Your secret is safe with me. Now, all we need is this little one to pop out.'

Phil rubs your belly, 'Come out, your bed is ready, you're going to sleep so well--'

'Why did you jinx it, now the baby will be restless,' you gasp loudly, cutting Phil off before he can do any more damage. He would do the first few night duties as punishment to see just how calm a newborn baby wasn't.

'If the baby's anything like me, they'll be chill, no need to worry,' he jokes.

You roll your eyes, you couldn't wait to prove him wrong when the baby came.

[archangeldyke-all]

thinking ab sev and vampire reader again.. (im obsessed if u cant tell)

what if sevika walked in on vampire reader ranting to their pet bat about how annoying hunting for food can be and their bat seemingly responding back (like understanding what shes saying) ? my asks are literally so odd but like.. i think she'd be so fucking confused LMAOO

thinking about it being a vampire bat also cause.. it just makes sense lol

black reader pleaseee <33

eeeeek im so glad u guys like this little story! i'm gonna combine this with another suggestion i got!

now you know damn well you got us fiending for vampire!reader drinkin sev’s blood….. ohmygod just imagining it is making me giddy. like it feels sososo good but sevika has to pry reader off of her after a few mins bc she’s starting to get a lil lightheaded, and reader thought she’d be able to control herself better but nah 😋

same disclaimer as last time! i'm white, and this is a black reader, so please lmk if i get anything wrong and i'll fix it asap :)

men and minors dni

sevika wakes up to the sound of... squeaking?

she sits up in bed, rubbing her eyes before she stands and quietly pads into the living room.

she's woken up to a lot of strange shit since she started dating you.

you hovering over her and admiring her sleeping face, your cat laying on her head and purring away, you feeding on a rat in the kitchen, various combs and gels and bundles of hair littering the bed as you braid your hair while you wait for her to wake... but this is something new.

you've got the window open, and fluttering back in forth in front of you is a little... bird? sevika squints her eyes. no... not a bird... what is that?

"no i know it's so fucking annoying!" you groan. the squeaking happens again, and sevika furrows her brows, her eyes adjusting to the dark. the squeaking halts, and you stick a finger out, and the little creature comes to latch onto it. "hahaha!" you laugh. "dude, you're hilarious. no-- but have you ever accidentally fed on a poisioned rat?"

the squeaking continues, the little creature adjusting on your finger. sevika blinks again. it's... a bat?? you snort.

"right, you're too small for rats. poisoned mice then?" you ask.

the bat squeaks in response.

sevika shakes her head.

"it's the fucking worst dude! be careful, okay? avoid the slow ones-- it means they're dying from it." the bat squeaks in response and you laugh. "i know they're easier to catch, but you'll get sick!"

"are you talking to a fucking bat right now?" sevika asks. you turn your head, shocked to see her in the doorway. the bat flutters on your finger, its face turning toward you as well. she snorts.

"oh, hey sev." you say. there's a squeak, and you look at your little companion. "my girlfriend, sevika." you say, smiling. the bat squeaks repeatedly, and you laugh. "he wants to know if you're a human." you translate. sevika blinks.

"and he can understand me?" she asks, still frozen in the doorway. you wave her over, and she hesitantly approaches. "babe... that's a fucking rodent. you've got a rodent, in our house." she says. there's an indignant squeak and you gasp.

"he's not a fucking rodent, he eats rodents, don't be rude!" you exclaim. sevika snorts and comes up to your side, warily eyeing your little friend. your bat friend squeaks at her. you chuckle. "i know, right?"

"what'd he say?" she asks. you blink, a guilty look on your face. sevika grins. "c'mon, tell me." she says, wrapping her arm around your shoulder. you sigh.

"he said you smell good. that he should feed off of you."

"hm." she says, looking at you. "and you agree?" she asks.

"no." you say, shaking your head. "i'd get too jealous." you say. sevika snorts, and your bat friend squeaks, and you sigh. "alright, go ahead, but just be safe, okay? and come back next week, i'll get you a proper perch and everything." you say. your bat friend flutters, swooping in a circle before taking off into the night. sevika watches it go, still processing what she's woken up to.

"honestly, i don't think i'm ever gonna get used to all the strange shit you get up to." she mumbles. you giggle, reaching forward to close the window, then turning around to wrap sevika up in your arms.

"you are supposed to be sleeping." you say. sevika smiles.

"can't sleep without my bodyguard." she says. you giggle.

"c'mon back to bed for the two of us. i'll keep watch." you say, dragging sevika toward your bedroom. she doesn't move. you pause, looking back over your shoulder at her. she's smirking. "what?" you ask. she shrugs.

"i smell good, huh?" she asks. you roll your eyes.

"you already knew that, sev." you say. she giggles, pulling you back toward her.

"and you'd get jealous of your little friend?" she asks. you chuckle.

"i would. you're mine." you say, pressing a kiss to her cheek. she grins.

"but... you still haven't fed from me yet." she says.

"sev, not this again." you groan. she chuckles.

"yes, this again." she says. "c'mon, babe, how many times am i gonna have to fuckin' beg you to get those teeth in me?" she asks. you giggle.

"you know why i'm... hesitant." you say. sevika rolls her eyes.

"you think you'll fuckin' drain me." she says. "as if you don't get full on a pint and a half."

"but you're you." you say. "you're... so fucking delicious. in so many ways. i'm already fucking addicted to you, and i haven't even tasted your blood yet."

sevika smiles. "honey." she says, kissing your lips. "i'm yours. for as long as you'll have me--"

"forever." you say, interrupting her. sevika grins, and butterflies flutter in your stomach. you've told her before-- vampires mate for life. and if sevika ever wishes, you've told her time and time again that you'd be honored to change her so she can spend eternity with you. forever.

"exactly." she says. "baby, you know you'll have to bite me to change me." she says. you groan and roll your eyes.

"well, duh." you say. "but that's different--"

"please!" she cries. you blink. "please, babe, i'm fucking dying for it. i wanna... i wanna be the one who makes you warm. want it to be my blood pumpin' through you, giving you life. at least for a few years, before we gotta hunt together, yeah?" she asks, blinking at you with big eyes.

you gulp. sevika always manages to catch you off guard with the stupidly romantic shit she says to you. your hands are shaking at your sides, and your fangs are begging to descend from your gums. "sev--"

"and i don't give a fuck about your vampire strength, i could still take you in a fight. so if you drink too much i'll just shove you off!" she says.

"sevi--"

"c'mon baby please! i want it so bad--"

"sevika!" you laugh. she blinks. "fine." you say.

"fine?" she asks.

"let's... let's do it." you say, grinning. she blinks, then bursts into laughter.

"really!?" she asks. you chuckle and swoop forward to kiss her lips. she moans against you, wrapping her arms around your hips. she pulls away with a gasp, grinning at you. "where should we do it? should i set down towels? do i need to do like, a detox or something? or should i be drunk so you can get drunk too?" she asks, speaking at a mile a minute. your smile only grows, until your cheeks are aching.

"baby--"

"shit, this is so fucking exciting. i've been waiting for mont--"

"sevika!" you interrupt her again, reaching up to put a finger over her lips. she blinks at you, giddy. "take me to bed, babe." you say. sevika gulps and then nods.

you've got her sprawled out beneath you, her hands gripping your hips as she squirms under you. she's already looking at you with hazy, love-drunk eyes, and you haven't even bitten her yet. you grin down at her.

"you're sure?" you ask. sevika groans.

"baby-- please!" she whines. "i'm-- i can't-- if you make me wait any longer i'm gonna fucking die!" she wails. you laugh.

"you're not gonna die."

"yes i am!" she says, hysterically, reaching up to grab your head and pull it down toward her neck. you squeal.

"sev!" you laugh, dodging her neck to press your lips against hers. this satiates her a bit, and she stops squirming enough to hum against your mouth.

"i love you." she whispers against your lips. you smile.

"i love you too." you say. "i've never..." you trail off, and sevika blinks up at you.

"never what?" she asks.

"i've never done this with someone who i wasn't trying to kill. or wasn't blackout drunk." you say. she smirks.

"so, i'm your first?" she asks. you roll your eyes.

"shut up."

"fuck." she shivers. "if it makes you feel any better, you're poppin' my vampire cherry too." she grins. you groan.

"shut up!"

"why don't you make me?" she asks, lifting up her chin, baring her throat to you. you shiver on top of her.

"if it hurts--"

"i'll tell you." she says.

"i--" you trail off, gulping. you can see the pulse under her skin, you can hear her heartbeat. you lick your teeth, and your fangs descend. sevika gasps.

"fuck that's hot." she whispers. you bite your cheek.

"i love you." you whisper. she smiles up at you.

"i love you t-- oh!" she gasps as you duck down dragging your teeth against the tender flesh of her neck. you nip and kiss against it, darting your tongue out to lick against her pulse point. she whimpers. "b-baby." she whines. you hum against her. "plea--" she doesn't get the chance to finish.

you sink your fangs into her throat, groaning as the first drop of her blood hits your tongue.

sevika jolts underneath you, her hands clawing into your hips, gasping as the pain wracks through her body. you quickly push your saliva against your puncture wound, and groan in satisfaction as sevika's body relaxes beneath you as pleasure of begins to enter her system.

once she's relaxed, you retract your teeth, then purse your lips around the two puncture wounds and begin sucking.

sevika tastes like heaven. ambrosia. liquid fucking gold.

you moan against her neck, suddenly fucking ravenous as you gulp down mouthful after mouthful of her blood.

beneath you, sevika's encouraging you. the sweet little whimpers and whines she's letting out make you fucking dizzy, and when she starts squeezing her thighs together you groan.

you quickly adjust on top of her, snaking your hand down her body and into her pants. sevika gasps.

"please!" she begs. you chuckle against her, and slip your fingers down to begin working against her clit in gentle, slow circles. a full body shudder wracks through her body. "f-fuck baby, holy shit." she whimpers. you hum against her. "you're never feeding from anyone else ever again. ever. shit! fu-fuck me, please fuck me-- feels so fucking good."

you groan, a drip of her blood escaping your mouth, trickling down your chin. you shove your hands further down her pants, soaking your fingers with her arousal before teasing against her hole. she's pulsing against your finger tips, in time with the roaring beat of her heart.

you groan again, and sink two fingers inside of her to the hilt, unable to control yourself enough to be gentle. sevika doesn't seem to mind, if anything, she seems to fucking love it.

"yeah, yeah, yeah, baby, shit! you're the best thing that's ever fuckin' happened to me, oh fuck!" she groans. you shiver on top of her, your fingers slamming in and out of her cunt, pressing against her spongy g-spot on every thrust.

you can barely make it out over the strong beat of her heart, the heavy breaths you're taking through your nose, the clicking of your throat as you gulp her down-- but sevika's cunt is fucking squelching, and her arousal is soaking her pajama pants and your fingers.

you're-- you're so fucking drunk on her. you've never felt this good during a feed, ever. even when you drain an entire body, even when you're killing an abuser and he's screaming in pain beneath you, even when you're drinking from a drunkard's neck and the warmth of the alcohol is settling in your veins. this is heaven.

"i'm gonna--" sevika doesn't finish her sentence, cumming around your fingers with a scream. "baby!" she wails. you don't stop fucking her, you just growl against her neck and continue pounding into her cunt.

she's shivering beneath you, her hands clawing into your hips. you're sure you'll have bruises tomorrow, but you don't give a shit.

your cunt's pulsing in your own pants, and you start to grind down on sevika's thigh. she just squeaks-- completely overwhelmed.

"b-babe--" sevika mutters. you groan against her. "i'm gonna cum again, shit-- cum with me, please, you feel so fucking good, i'm so fucking in love with you, oh my god i love you, i love you i love you i love yo-- ah fuck!" she cries, cumming again, her cunt clenching around your fingers hard enough for your knuckle bones to crush against each other.

you groan and cum against her thigh, shaking and nearly hyperventilating on her neck with how hard you're heaving breaths to keep drinking from her.

sevika grabs your wrist, and you pull your fingers out of her cunt, shooting your hand up to shove them down her throat. she groans around your fingers and you chuckle against her neck, and sevika sighs the prettiest little sigh you've ever heard come from her lips beneath you.

"shit, honey." she garbles around your fingers. you hum, and sevika grunts. "sh-shit."

suddenly, sevika's hand comes up to grab your hair by the roots, pulling you away from her neck. you blink down at her, suddenly aware of your surroundings now that her blood's not filling your mouth.

"are you--"

"lightheaded." she mumbles, grinning up at you. you giggle, bending back down to lick at her wounds, waiting until the blood stops flowing before pressing a kiss against her throat.

you continue to trail kisses up her neck, over her jaw, until you meet her lips. she hums against you, and you grin.

"are you okay?" you ask. she giggles like she's high.

"i'm fucking amazing." she whispers. you giggle.

"you're suffering from severe blood loss."

"i'm in love with you. let's get married."

you burst into laughter, feeling warm and satiated and so fucking in love with the woman beneath you.

"okay." you say. sevika's eyes widen.

"fuck, really?" she asks, grinning. you shrug.

"ask me again in the morning when you've got your red blood cell count back up and you've got yourself a deal." you say. "but-- once you start gettin' old i'm turning you." you say. "you sure you wanna do eternity tied to me?" you ask. she grins.

"i'm gonna miss bein' your bloodbag once i'm a vampire." she says. you giggle.

"you did it once!"

"we're doin' it every day from now until you turn me." she says, smiling up at you. you laugh.

"i'm not that hungry!"

"i don't give a fuck, we're doin' it for me!" she says. you grin, then duck down to kiss her again. she sighs against your lips.

"i love you." you say. sevika smiles.

"i love you too. i've never been so happy to have a stalker before." she says. you giggle.

"stay here, i'm gonna get you some orange juice." you say as you float above her body. you feel fucking amazing, full of life and magic. sevika smiles up at you.

"come back quick. i miss you already."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[skelet-bone]

reading superman for all seasons rn, imagine this

of mice and men but superman and batman

lennie is superman and george is batman

no i will not elaborate

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

Omg I saw that you were taking requests- how do you feel about me requesting yandere platonic Malice Link but specifically Fae!Hyrule. I imagine it would take place or at least their first encounter would be in a forest. Since it’s Malice!Link there would probably be at least some hostility at first with the reader walking a tight rope of emotions. But it basically evolves from that to subtle manipulation not even realizing it’s gone from 0-100 with hostility turned into possessiveness.

Order up!

Love this request so much oh my gods!! Hope you enjoy it~

Tw: Yandere, mentioned murder

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

The forests here were quiet— and dead. It’s the best way to explain it, but to some extent one would inevitably lead you to assume another. The forest was hauntingly absent of the chitter from its animals and the wind was dead from the sky— it naturally leads one to assume that there is no life within the woods. It would’ve turned most away from making their way through the thorn bushels and further into the forest itself. Or, rather, it should’ve turned you away, you should’ve known better. Bad things happen to the people that go into these woods. But alas, the sun was high and the morning was fresh and some old maidens tale about silly fairies wasn’t going to keep you from some wild berry pie.

There was someone new in his woods. Hyrule had really thought people had learned their lessons by now. Usually the glowing red pools of malice and gloom would steer them off course far enough to walk right back into their own village. The sharp-toothed mouths in the trees drive fear into the heart of any hunter and the sensation of the yellowed eyes watching make any animal prey. And yet, the new animal sauntered through his woods, basket looped around their elbow. Their blood was untainted, it rushed through them beat by beat, the sound filling his ears. They drove his senses haywire, leaving behind a trail that he felt compelled to follow.

The bushes were full of freshly ripened berries, their skins a vibrant glossy mauve. Your basket was filled when you turned to see a person, standing wide eyed behind you. He looked pale, cheeks slightly sunken, light brown hair tousled and with a stare so intent, you felt as if you should’ve expected him to have said something. And yet he stared with unblinking hazel-blue eyes, a single fang pushing over his lip.

“Are you alright?” You could’ve smacked yourself right then. Sneaking into a supposedly haunted forest and seeing a man stare at you, and your first words are ‘are you alright’?

“No” He clutches his sides slowly, sharp nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. With no other real idea of what to do, you hold out your basket of berries —which also included some honey to preserve a few of the berries in— to which he looks inside cautiously. You get a closer look at him and see the freckles dotting his cheeks and the fact he looks dangerously thin. Your eyes catch on a violently red looking scar lining his chest, but when you shift to get a closer look, he darts back. You open your mouth to say something, and yet he’s already back within the woods.

He hated himself. Hyrule doesn’t really recall if he did before, but he most certainly does now. As it turned out, the new person prancing through his forest was not a hunter like the hundreds of others since. You did not come with iron chains and steel blades with the hopes of his death bringing honor to your name. No. You were the closest thing to acceptance he’s had in a long while. Maybe you were a fool. Maybe you were meant to s- He wasn’t meant to be saved. He cut the thought short. He was cursed now, baneful hatred blotting out his mind until he’s not sure what’s him and what’s it. He’d slaughtered the many men that came through his lands like they were no more than mice or minish. It was easy. And yet, as your hand shifted slightly while holding a basket, he bolted like he was the mouse —prey hiding from their death. It didn’t make sense. He wasn’t supposed to crave to be liked. He was supposed to be hated— to be feared. It’s what kept him alive for so long. It makes no rhyme nor reason that you’d care for a cursed creature such as himself. Even if the malice didn’t rip at his skin to make scars and it didn’t taint what was once good and kind into gloomy and miserable, He still couldn’t be loved by you. He was fae. His kind was supposed to trick foolish humans and toy away with their lives. He was supposed to bend his words so you’d agree to a promise sealing your fate to some comical story book ending where he gains the upper hand. And yet, he found himself mulling over the curiosities in your eyes, the purse of your lips, the thump of your heart. All things that —down to his very anatomy— he was supposed to hate. And yet he could not bring himself to. Whatever fleshy scraps were left of his heart were reaching through the cracks in his ribs toward you. He hated it. He hated the way his heart raced when hearing your familiar father-light steps. He hated the way he bore a sharp toothy grin upon seeing your return. Those teeth were meant to cut and kill, not simply be means to an expression. He hated that the honey you left him, infused with wild berries, was so sweet. He hated it was an appeasing offering to him. Maybe to some sense you were a hunter. And what an odd hunter you were to aim for his heart in such a manner.

And yet you persisted. Weekly or so you made a good habit to leave some food for the frail man you saw. You’re not sure why exactly you felt inclined to do so. Guilt, perhaps, he looked rather shaken by you shifting slightly, the last you could do was provide him with some good meals. There wasn’t any good food aside from the plants in the forest anyway, and that wouldn’t keep someone as frail as him alive. You saw more of him. It was slow, a hand taking the food a few minutes after you set it down, a cautious look shared before he scurried away. He’d come out of whatever tree or bush he’d been hiding in before claiming whatever prize you got. And eventually he’d even sit with you as he ate. You were slow, always keeping the same distance and dropping off the food at the same bush you met him. You learned the reason why the old wives of your village told you to stay away from the forest for what may be within. There was evil within the marred roots of every sickly tree and the man in front of you, while not really a man, was sick. And yet like any sick thing the world told you to ignore, he proved he was worth saving. He gathered his own little silly silver gifts to give and kept you safe while you foraged through the night. When you ran out of ear space for the little hoops he gave you rings, all in your size and he didn’t question why you came running, clothes in hand with a mob behind you. Instead he protected you, cradling your shaking body.

His eyes, glinting yellow, bore into the crowd which chased his love right to him. It was quite a strain, he’d admit. First whispering to the weavers, spinning stories of how you’d betrayed your better judgment and was lured into the woods. To them you were cursed just as he was, and so, you were exiled to much the same fate. But you needn’t worry, you mustn’t. He knows which herbs and incantations lessen the malice’s bite. You’ll be safe here with him. Maybe not happy for a while, but it’s not like you have another option aside from him. With rings on your finger and matching curse bound in blood, he dragged you to the little den he’d prepared for him and his spouse. Not quite the storybook ending.