#who knows maybe ill try my hand at death again

[mystiika]

throwback to when i put together a death personified oc who could look like anything or anyone but took the form of a single human that it met who knows how many centuries ago, so she could live on after her passing in her own special kind of way. she was so pure & calming to death that she became the form it took whenever interactions with life forms was necessary. death was ultimately so kind & did their job as compassionately & empathetically it could. i kinda miss them sometimes tbh but it was such a heavy muse that i couldn't really keep it up compared to other stuff. their personality was heavily inspired by the book thief by markus zusak because of how death was the narrator. & also just other stuff i was reading at the time that made me sort of reassess how i thought about death like tuesday's with morrie by mitch albom ( an author i genuinely think is one of my favs btw. the time keeper among others is just chefs kiss honestly ).

but with the book thief, specifically the way death introduces themself as the first thing in the novel really stuck with me. all the observable things that death would notice at the moment someone passes. but these two parts man...

" it suffices to say that at some point in time, i will be standing over you, as genially as possible. your soul will be in my arms. a color will be perched on my shoulder. i will carry you gently away. "

&

" the question is, what color will everything be at the moment when i come for you? what will the sky be saying? personally, i like a chocolate-colored sky. dark, dark chocolate. people say it suits me. i do, however, try to enjoy every color i see — the whole spectrum. a billion or so flavors, none of them quite the same, and a sky to slowly suck on. it takes the edge off the stress. it helps me relax. "

it just felt so... human, while also incredibly isolating. it's been years since i first read that novel too & i'll never forget that introduction, if nothing else. i do tend to avoid books about the holocaust, not because of a sort of discomfort out of the topic, more so from the sadness & frustration from being brought up jewish & knowing a lot more than i care to. it's also surprisingly difficult to find books that don't feel overwhelmingly like n*zi apologist stories ( ahem boy in the striped pajamas i'm looking at you ).

but yeah ! this is sort of where my mind is at the last couple days while working on an ask that's ended up with a fair bit of death involved ( so sorry warren )

anyway i've got a friend staying over this weekend so probably won't be on very much until next week but who knows, i might sneak on to get a couple things in the queue :)

[slasherhaven]

I don’t know if you’ve done this before but what about period sex? 🥺 I feel like the slashers are so used to blood it wouldn’t be upsetting to them. (Preferably with Thomas Hewitt because he’s my current hyper-fixation)

I honestly can't remember if I've written this. I thought I had but I can't find but even if I have, I'll happily write it again! Period sex had become a recent interest of mine to be honest...

Period Sex with The Slashers (NSFW):

Thomas Hewitt

Thomas is phased by blood in the slightest, he's been working with it since he was old enough to work after all. However, it's different when it's you that bleeding!

He panics at the slightest sign of you being hurt, always wanting to protect you.

I doubt he has any real knowledge about periods, maybe he knows that some people have them but he definitely doesn't know much more than that.

When you're on your period, he likes to fuss over you and make sure you're alright. Especially after you explained everything about your experiences and if you have bad cramps.

You have to be the one who brings up the idea of having sex when you're on your period, because he definitely won't.

You're bleeding there! He assumes that because you're bleeding it would hurt, which you figure makes sense but you'll explain that you might be more sensitive but it won't be painful.

Thomas just need some reassurances that he's not going to hurt you or anything, and becomes more eager when you mention that orgasms can actually help ease cramps.

The blood doesn't bother him at all, he's not in the slightest bit put off or grossed out, it barely even registers with him once he's reassured that you're not in pain. But he still makes sure to be extra careful with you.

You just seem so...raw, that it could be painful. So, he'll just go slow and be careful.

Since he has absolutely no problem with blood, he will go down on you with as much enthusiasm as any other day. He doesn't mind getting his hands or face dirty.

Michael Myers

Michael has no problem with the sight of blood. In face, it might even lean in the other direction.

The blood doesn't put him off, it actually entices him. Gets his blood pumping like those moments before a hunt.

You might not even have to bring up the subject. He's still plenty open for sex, no matter how heavy your flow.

Still, he's not exactly educated about periods so might assumed your injured. But once he knows you're unharmed, he just shrugs it off as mostly unimportant. Is still going to be interested in sex as he is any other day. More so maybe.

Michael loves to smear the blood around, to have his hands coated in it, smearing bloody handprints over your hips and legs and everywhere else on your body. He has no interest in keeping things clean and tidy, it's a waste of time to even lay a towel down to be honest.

He doesn't take it easy on you either, even if you are feeling more raw and sensitive. In fact, he's only encouraged by your increased squirming and the sounds you make.

Jason Voorhees

Oh sweet Jason.

Sex is already a taboo thing to him, at least in the beginning of your relationship, and so are periods.

You've helped him so much when it comes to having a healthier relationship with sex and you've also taught him plenty about periods, because he wanted to learn, wanted to help you.

Jason always treats you like you're ill when you're on your period, wanting to dote on you and make sure those cramps aren't bothering you too much.

The thought of having sex with you on those days doesn't even occur to him. Not because he thinks it's gross or because he has a phobia of blood, but because he figures it would harm you in some way. I mean, you are bleeding and Jason has only ever associated blood with pain and violence and death. Not exactly sexy.

And when you make a move on him, he's more surprised than anything. You want to do that with him while you're bleeding?

Just very worried and concerned for your wellbeing.

Once you reassure him, he's willing to try it, though. You wouldn't lead him wrong, after all.

He'll lay down the towels and be gentle with you, every touch feather light and tender.

He's not really into the blood, more just unbothered by it. It's there but he doesn't care, it's not a turn on or a turn off.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms is a horny bastard and if you think some blood is going to put him off, you clearly don't know him well.

Blood doesn't phase him anyway, so it's really not a problem.

You don't have to reassure him or anything, he's already tugging your underwear down.

He doesn't care about making a mess, about staining sheets or surfaces that you will have to clean later.

Doesn't have many feelings about the blood itself other than enjoying the feeling of it, warm and wet.

Will dip a finger in the blood and draw a little pattern on your stomach, just for the fun of it.

Also won't care about washing up before going to sleep, curling himself around you and drifting off while his thighs are still smeared with your drying blood.

You'll have to fight him into the shower, either before he falls asleep or in the morning. Which, of course, only leads into another round but at least he's a little cleaner now.

Bo Sinclair

Bo loves marking you up, claiming you as his.

The two of you might have even given blood play a try before. Bo's definitely into it and has fantasied about it at least.

He's an asshole when you're on your period, always blames your bad mood on it, and is just a general menace.

He's also a huge tease, especially if he knows you get horny on your period.

He'll have you against the kitchen counter, push a hand under your waistband, bring you to the edge of orgasm before slipping his hand out and sucking the blood from his fingers. Leaving you flustered and unsated.

And when he does fuck you, he can't take his eyes off of where you're connected, of where the blood smears over you both.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent isn't so interested in blood but he's seen more than enough so that it doesn't faze him.

So, he's not put off by you bleeding, he's just more concerned than anything.

If you're uncomfortable or in pain, his mind isn't going to sex. So, you'll probably have to be the one to initiate it.

He's not off put but it, just fusses to make sure you're certain and that it won't hurt you in anyway.

Puts all his focus in making sure you're comfortable.

Despite not being interested in blood in any sexual way, he does get a little curious. It's something new to explore with you and he's intrigued.

He's not very messy with it but finds that he does kind of like the way it stains the inside of your thighs at least.

Cleans you up so tenderly afterwards until there isn't a trace of blood left, just being his sweet self.

Lester Sinclair

Lester is not in anyway phased by dirt or blood or being messy in anyway.

It's not a flattering comparison but he handles roadkill everyday, he's not doing to be bothered by some blood.

The only reason he doesn't really consider having sex during those times is because he assumes you wouldn't want too. Just kinda assumed you don't desire it during that time, especially if you've ever mentioned being in pain with cramps or feeling 'gross' in someway while on your period.

However, he's not opposed to it when you suggest it. He's surprised when you hurry to assure him that it's alright if he doesn't want too, that you understand if he'd not into it while you're on your period.

Lester really doesn't care about any mess you make and you will have to be the person to grab the towels, he just wouldn't even think about it.

Doesn't care how heavy your period is, he has no fears when it comes to touching you or bringing you pleasure.

While Lester really isn't fazed by being dirty, he'll help you both wash up. Afterwards, if you just want to soak in the bath for a while, he'd more than happy to join you.

Bubba Sawyer

Blood is nothing to Bubba, might as well be water to him.

However, he does know that blood usually follows pain, and if you're bleeding, he's going to be concerned that your hurting. And lets be real, he might not even know what a period is.

So, after plenty of explanation and reassurances, we can talk period sex.

Once you've assured him that it's all normal and the pain is more in the cramps than anything else, Bubba really doesn't think much of it. He becomes more concerned about the cramps than the actual blood aspect. The bleeding itself is no big deal to him.

So, when you express that you would like to have sex with him even though you're still on your period, Bubba trusts that you know better than him on whether it's alright for you or not.

For Bubba it's just like the blood isn't there, just an addition to sex that he doesn't really need to worry about because it doesn't mean that he's hurting you.

Billy Lenz

Some blood isn't going to stop him from wanting you, from needing you.

Billy has a complicated relationship with blood. It's always followed negative feelings and experiences but it's also kinda...pretty?

He doesn't want to hurt you or make you bleed but if you're already bleeding and unharmed then...

Truly has no worries about mess, he loves when the two of you end up all sticky from bodily fluids. If that includes blood, that's perfectly fine by him.

He'll grin at you with your blood staining his mouth and cheeks, will smear bloody hands over your body and paint you with it.

He doesn't know why he finds it so enticing, so arousing, but he does. His eyes shine as he paints you both with your blood. And he's able to do all of this without harming you, which is a huge bonus for him.

Like Brahms, he'd happily just go to sleep without washing the drying blood off first. You have to drag him off to the shower and change the sheets because Billy will just sleep in the mess without worry.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

In general, blood is not all that new in your relationship.

Asa has definitely indulged his blood play kink with you, whether it was with your blood or somebody else's. So period sex isn't the craziest thing for him and he's not going to even bat an eye at it.

However, he is going to indulge.

Asa is pretty thrilled about you being more sensitive than usual, ready to find all new ways to torment and tease you.

You're not about to be ruining his sheets though, he's doing to be clean and tidy about it. He's using a mattress protector at the very least, or having you strapped to a table for him to experiment on you.

He has you squirming and pleading until there are tears in your eyes and you feel raw between your legs, even more so than you already did.

Slips his fingers between your lips, having you taste your own blood.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Come on, a little bit of blood isn't going to scare him.

In fact, blood arouses him and he isn't ashamed of that in the slightest.

You can try to initiate or he will, it doesn't really matter. A period isn't going to have Jesse dancing shyly around you.

Blood play is nothing new for the two of you so he turns it unto a bit of a challenge instead.

He'll have you ride him while he's fully dressed, warning you not to make a mess of his clothes.

And if you do get blood on his nice new suit, well...he's just going to have to punish you, isn't he?

Otis Driftwood

Otis is super into blood play and has already participated in it with you if you share his kink. If not, he's at least mentioned it multiple times.

So, this is just blood play without having to tend to wounds afterwards. That suits him just fine.

In Otis' opinion, the heavier your flow, the better.

He paints you both with it.

He loves seeing you covered in blood, the source of that blood is pretty unimportant to him (unless somebody else has hurt you, obviously).

He's not shy about his interest in the blood but by this point, you should know that it's something that turns him on. There is precious little that doesn't turn him on really.

Honestly, let's a little annoyed if there isn't enough blood for his liking but whatever.

By the end, he'd got drying blood on his face, hands, and thighs. Blood clotted in his facial hair and his teeth stained red, the coppery taste on his tongue.

The sheets are definitely ruined and if you don't get rid of them, Otis will keep them stains and all. He doesn't care about some dirty bedsheets after all.

Baby Firefly

For so many reasons, Baby isn't shy about some blood.

If you're on your period, she doesn't see why that should change your sex life unless you don't want to have sex on your period. Which she would respect, she knows how it can make you feel.

But she also knows that orgasms help with cramps and that sometimes a symptom of a period is being horny, and she will use these things against you just to tease you.

Come on, there's no need to deprive yourself just because of a little blood. She isn't fazed! Let her help!

Doodles little patterns all over you with your blood, giggling to herself about them.

Will paint her lips (and yours if you let her) with your blood just for her amusement if nothing else.

See! There can be some perks of a period when you're with Baby!

Yautja (Predator)

You don't have to tell your mate when you're on your period, he can smell it (not in a way that it smells bad, he just has those heightened alien senses).

He panics at the scent of blood first since Yautja don't menstruate so he assumes you're injured in some way.

He's quick and happy to learn though, and then stops being so concerned about it when your period comes along.

Other than the initial panic, your mate doesn't care about blood in the slightest. He's an Yautja, a predator, a hunter. Blood is a daily occurrence for him, it doesn't faze him.

And when he learns that pleasure can ease period cramps, he will practically insist on it for pain management reasons.

Honestly, the fact that you bleed like this monthly and just carry on with your life like nothing is wrong is admirable and worthy of respect in his eyes.

Having sex with you when you're bleeding, well, there's just something so primal about it.

The scent of your blood and your arousal has his own blood pumping and a growl emitting from behind his mandibles.

He loses himself in the sight of your blood, smearing it over your skin, tasting it.

Afterwards, he just holds you, nuzzling at your skin. Both of you still stained with your own blood.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (4) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.6k words

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions and allusions of trafficking and sexualization of reader/finnick by capitol, manipulation of someone's feelings, allusions of past break up, allusions to death/violence, playful banter, no use of y/n, UNEDITED, me trying to write peeta, trauma, allusions to mental illness, survivors guilt

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The couch in all its neon greeness had been the same over the last 6 years. With the same garishly neon blue pillows in obnoxious shapes and as you stared at it it brought back when you and Conway had anxiously sat on it. When you began nervously sucking up to him, playing his sensitive side.

“I'm worried about you." Finnick popped a grape into his mouth as he sat on one of the velvety seats at the table. Honesty was his new approach, to tell you exactly what he was thinking especially if it was about you to force you to do the same. You were only a couple hours into the morning and this was evident.

“Why, Finnick?" You sighed, not in annoyance, well maybe a little bit in annoyance, but mostly the sigh had been one of love.

“I know we've both been back before, but not as tributes. You're going to start thinking about your games again as we go through the same steps. I'm worried you won't stay grounded."

“Yeah, well, I have you and as long as I can be in your arms I'll be okay."

He nodded observing you carefully, to make sure you weren't repressing anything deep within you, but he seemed satisfied for now. “It's not just you, I'm sure we're all going to be thinking a lot about the first time we were in this position." Finnick shrugged, grabbing another handful of grapes.

“Are you gonna be able to stay grounded?" You asked, putting down the knife you were using to butter your toast.

"I've managed this long.” He smirked, leaning forward, "Plus I've got you, angel.” 

You rolled your eyes,"You're so cheesy.”

"What? So it's cheesy when I do it, but not when you do it?”

"Exactly.” You laughed. "Second day of married life and you're already catching on!”

"I'm a fast learner.” He raised his eyebrows, grinning.

The door opened and in came your escort. “Good morning, you two! Glad to see you've broken no more glasses, Finnick." She tutted, her dress was an eyesore to look at. You loved color, but her clashing bright ones made your head hurt.

“Nope, I've remembered my manners, Koalema.” 

"Well that's good! Oh look, we're so close to arrival.” She kept babbling about something probably nonsensical. Koalema, why had you never been able to recall that name? You felt bad for not remembering, but it was so hard when she was flurry of chaos and overstimulation. 

Finnick stood up and held his hand out for you, “Well here we go, angel. Be ready to put on that beloved smile and have those tears ready to spill. They love that about you." You took his hand and pulled yourself out of your seat.

“You don't need any instruction from me, always the charmer."

“Yeah, well I've had longer." The two of you prepared to greet the vultures waiting to eat up upon arrival. Standing in front of the window, hands tightly clasped together ready to gracefully swoop up your audience in their desired fantasy for the final time. 

To smile at the people who had taken everything from you and completely controlled every aspect in your life. How people saw you, your relationship with Finnick, your relationship with yourself and your body, anything that you could think of they had somehow pulled strings in it. All of your life was under their thumb and you realized the lengths you would go to stop that, what would life be like when all you had left was memories that never needed to be reopened?

              𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It was beautiful. There was more food than you'd ever be able to eat and not a single scent of the salty seafood you were used to. Bright colors etched into your brain and everything was so modern, so clean. You had no idea what you'd expected, but it blew you away.

“This is where you two will be staying on our way to the Capitol! Isn't it beautiful? No expense has been spared, District 4 has a pretty good reputation of course and we'd like to keep that! So be in awe, but not so much that you forget about that." The garish woman said so cheerfully you were convinced you misheard her.

“No we wouldn't want that." Conway muttered and the woman gave him a sharp smile.

“Make yourselves at home, I do believe the two of you are very lucky and get the one, the only Finnick Odair as one of your mentors this year. Let me check on that and possibly, Odine." Her heels clicked out the room which inexplicably opened just as she stood in front of it.

Home. You'd never see home again, never swim in the comfort of its waters, see your family, lay in the warm sand. Yes, you would if you could win this, but you couldn't. And Finnick, how were you supposed to think about strategy when he would be right there?

“Are you okay?" A soft hand landed on your shoulder and Conway's deep, brown eyes spoke as much comfort as they could for you. Of course you weren't okay, how could you be? But saying that wouldn't endear him into you, so you melted into his touch.

You shook your head, closing your eyes, and sniffling. “What about you? How was your family?" 

“Well at least I'm here with you and they'll be okay, at least they have each other too." Yes, at least you had someone you knew, yet also didn't that make it more difficult? He didn't ask about your family though, maybe if you kept a tally you'd feel less guilty by the end.

“Yeah, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have someone I trusted. I'm just so scared, Conway.” With that you'd erupted into tears and he pulled his arms around you. They weren't stiff, but weren't comforting, not that you really needed his comfort.

“It's okay, we've got each other."

You already hated yourself.

With that the automatic door slid open, but you didn't tear yourself away. You knew who it would be, but he wouldn't believe you if you jumped from him. So you slowly moved your hands to wipe your face and made your voice shake as you let out your sweetest, “Thank you."

He nodded eagerly, he didn't say of course but you could see it in his eyes. A warm, but brisk voice interrupted the moment. “Glad you've already decided to ally with each other, makes it much more difficult when the tributes won't talk to one another." Finnick’s honeycomb sweet voice finally drew your eyes to his.

“Yes, it's an easier angle to work with." A tall woman beside him agreed, you recognized her from the screens, Ondine Afron, she sounded more tired then you'd remembered.

“We’ll be your mentors, teaching you with our experience the best ways to survive, how to get sponsors, and whatever else could help." Finnick grabbed a sugar cube from the bowl by the teapot, examining it before tossing it into his mouth.

Yes and him being a mentor could throw a wrench in your plans. Conway had heard every bit of the emotional rollercoaster that had been Finnick Odair, how could you convince him you loved him instead when the man of all your affections was right there.

“Nice to meet you both." Conway said curtly, he let himself glare slightly at the other man. Usually you'd scold him for this, you weren't the type to want tension, but you needed him to trust you. So you leaned into his side, looking up at him as innocently as you could. Willingly him with every molecule to believe you and for Finnick to leave you alone enough to make your performance more outstanding.

Later that night when you'd wandered the train's halls in a nightgown with a softness like you'd never experienced before, you'd passed by Finnick who had nothing but praise for the plan we could tell you were hatching. Of course he could tell, he knew every morsel of your being. 

“You're so smart, angel, the way you came up with that in a matter of seconds. Being good on your feet like that could save you in the arena." He'd whispered, softly above the mechanical noises your brain had hyper fixated on since your arrival. 

“Don't call me that." You muttered.

He sighed, looking down, “I'm sorry. I'm just-"

“Yeah, I know."

“You know I'd do anything to keep you safe, even if I haven't always been able to tell you what and now I've failed, but here you are, I mean the way you manipulated your eyes like that was brilliant. The audience is going to be under your finger just keep doing what you're doing." Suddenly his hands were around yours, a movement so familiar it made you shudder.

“Finnick, please don't." You tugged your hands, half-heartedly, not really letting them escape his loose grip.

“I'm sorry, I know you don't understand why I hurt you, but it'll all make sense once you win this thing."

“Yeah, sure." You rolled your eyes, this was a tiring waltz between the two of you. Him claiming it was to protect you while you couldn't know from what, even now when you were on the brink of inevitable death.

“I promise." He stilled all his shifting and movements, sea green eyes boring so deeply into the depths of your heart there was no choice but to trust him. You couldn't help yourself and leaned in, delicately letting your lips graze his cheek.

“I have to go find his room. You know, do what I can." There was slight laughter behind your tone and Finnick nodded, softly smiling.

"My smart girl.” He muttered, glowing in the lamp light. I miss you, your brain screamed as you gazed at him, suddenly the tears you were trying to force up to sell your act were easier to conjure up. So you left him in the dim lights of the train car to convince Conway of how badly you needed his comfort now that you were away from home.

               𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Secret wedding is all anyone can talk about." Your designer, Cambrie, sounded like bright citrus, drinking orange juice for breakfast. “Especially those seaweed rings, so bolstering for my ideas to run their course!" She smiled, clearly full of anticipation for her idea to be revealed to you.

Truthfully you couldn't care less about it, you wanted to be back at Finnick's side. As the years passed being alone with people from the Capitol no matter who they were or what they intended nauseated you. “Oh come on, Cambrie, I'm going to die of anticipation!" You proclaimed with as much drama as you could, pouting.

"Oh you're adorable.” She clapped like you were some sort of performing dog and pinched your cheeks, actually pinched your cheeks. The infantilization made you want to retreat but that would never be an option. “Reignbaugh was going to go with a fishing net to look for Finnick to pay homage to the District of course, and similarly with you I was thinking to draw it together, but the seaweed combined to call back to the rings. Everyone will eat it up, and oh I have a lovely pearl headdress you are going to be stunning!” 

You gushed to her, but internally felt your stomach turn. This really meant she was going to try and show as much as you off as she could. Of course this turned out to be true. The outfit could have been beautiful if in reality it wasn't so dehumanizing. The seaweed running through the fishing net dress that adorned you barely covered your nipples and much of your body was clearly visible to those who stood close enough.

"And of course for the Capitol Princess.” Cambrie announced, placing her elegantly made crown, you had to admit it was beautiful. The way each pearl shined between the seaweed. Although you did think the seaweed usage was over the top, the choice of it for the rings hadn't really been significant, it was just there in a place you both loved. It was marketable though. Her and your other stylists had also gone to great effort to make your eyes look as watery as possible, even adding pearly effects to make it look like you were crying them. It was too all too much, but you oohh’d and awed which they adored you even more for. 

“Don't you look handsome." You remarked all too sarcastically as you approached Finnick and his bare chest. 

“Oh just smile and wave, angel, they're savoring the last time they'll see either of us like this.” It was lighthearted and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, but it did comfort you. Eventually your body would simply be yours again." There she is.” He whispered, your eyes followed him to her, Katniss Everdeen.

“Well you better go make your introduction then."

“Well ladies first." He gestured, expectantly.

“No, I don't think my first introduction should be like this." You pointed up and down the outfit. "You go, it'll seem perfectly on brand for you.”

Finnick nodded, you could tell he had more he wanted to say, to lecture on but there wasn't much time. You looked around the room, toying with the fishnet nervously before you heard someone call your name and looked in the direction.

"Didn't expect you to be the type with nerves.” A voice quickly caught your attention. Peeta Mellark.

"Only at the worst times.” You grimaced, shaking your head. 

Peeta smiled, "Well I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who gets them.” 

"Oh far from it, I bet you 75% of the people in here are trying not to throw up right now.” 

“Which one's are fine then?" He stood by you observing the occupants.

“While obviously it's neither of us, I'm thinking District 11 too many years in for either of them to be worrying."

“1 & 2?"

“Bingo!" You announced, tilting your head.

“Surprised you didn't say Katniss." He remarked.

"Surprised you didn't say Finnick.” You countered.

"The thrills of pretending to not be shaking.” He shook his head with a smirk.

"Masters of that game. In fact she looks like she might just kill him now.” You tried not to laugh at how Katniss looked at Finnick who you knew was trying desperately to work his charms.

"Well, I'd best go save him then.”

"Oh, yes it would only be mildly entertaining.”

"It was nice meeting you, considering the circumstances.” Peeta exuded kindness in a way you could only aspire too, it genuinely hurt your soul.

“Yes, a mind numbing extravaganza thrown here would have been much more enjoyable, as horrendous as that is to say." 

"I only ever attended one and just from that, I ever so gravely attest to that. I better go break the two up before she attacks.”

"Oh please do, can't have him squabbling already.” Peeta smiled and soon enough Finnick was stalking back your way.

"She'll come around.” He assured before you could even open your mouth as the two of you stepped into the carriage.

"I'm sure she will. Peeta and I could feel the tension from a room away.”

"Everybody likes me.”

"I'm sure talking like that is exactly why she doesn't.” You nudged him playfully.

"Oh shut up.” He rolled his eyes.

"That's no way to talk to your wife, Mr. Odair.” 

“I apologize, Mrs. Odair." He pulled you in for a kiss just as the carriage came into the bright sunlight, the screaming proved its effectiveness to you. It was sure to leave an impact on them when they looked back on the tribute parade. 

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you all again for your continued reading and support, especially since I feel like this is so slow paced but there's so much I want to get in there. if you enjoyed feedback, comments, likes, reblogs are all much appreciated, as always my inbox is wide open for any thoughts y'all have! so excited for getting into the training parts and some rebellion planning in the next part. love y'all so much, thank you again 💕💋

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[literaila]

"i don''t wanna get you sick"

from either reader or peter (sorry if you've already written a fic like this)

where’d you get your medical degree

tasm!peter x fem!reader

warnings: the ask says it all.

a/n: in lieu of sick season. and because of many illnesses (such as writers block, and insanity) which are preventing me from writing anything serious

*

“no,” you whine, pushing him away. “don’t touch me.”

peter is looking down at you with an incredulous look on his face. his hair is loose and his eyes are close, and he’s unbelievably pretty. like you have to blink a few times, just to make him appear normal—and a little less blurry.

you think he’s smiling too, but you can’t really see it. you might be dreaming.

“is there any particular reason why not, bub?”

his hands near you again, cold fingertips on your jaw, around your head. you groan and move your face away from them—even though it feels wonderful.

“i don’t know where those hands have been.”

peter snorts. “trust me,” he says, tilting your head back to him, “you do.”

your stomach turns, and suddenly his hands are a saving grace, so you grab both, holding them to your cheeks.

“change your mind?”

“cold,” you sigh, leaning as close as you can get to him.

“you’re burning, love, and not the elvis kind.”

you shake your head, eyes closed. “not funny,” you mutter.

“can you look at me real quick?”

you moan and close your eyes even tighter. “i’m tired, peter. come back when we’re open.”

“just let me see those pretty eyes and then you can sleep. i’ll even get you some comfier clothes. and some water.”

you move your legs around, feeling the stiff polymer pants you wore today, assuming that you wouldn’t be halfway to death by 3pm.

“how bout some ice cream?” you ask, opening one eye.

it is not lost on you that peter is trying to flirt with you. or that he’s frowning.

“your pupils are big,” he says, concisely. “did you get drugged?”

you giggle, moving away from him, his fingertips suddenly ticklish. “yes, from my computer,” you grin at him, closing your eyes again. “at my office job.”

“okay, stoner, what medicine did you take?”

you frown. “none.”

peter is frowning back. you can feel it. but you’re not going to open your eyes, just in case he’s suddenly brushed his hair or something. put on mascara. who knows what lengths peter would go to surprise you.

“wait,” you hold a finger up. “whatever’s in my bag, i think. i took it at work.”

peter sighs, patting your leg before he moves about the room, looking for a purse you must have lost.

you actually can’t really remember how you got home in the first place.

“if your fever gets any worse, we’re going to the doctor.” peter says this from across the room, and you’re pretty sure he’s not even talking to you. “here. this is just acetaminophen. how long ago?”

your face is pushed into the pillow beside you. it smells like peter, so you keep it there.

“loopy, can you just answer this one question?”

“the pillow is speaking to me.”

peter puts a hand on your back. “i am so sure you’re on drugs,” he says, almost adoringly. “the pillow is telling you that you need to clean up. trust me, we’re close. let’s get you into pajamas and then i’ll find you some stuff.”

you don’t move. maybe you didn’t hear him.

“bub,” he says, a bit louder, sterner. “c’mon, it’ll only take a sec.”

“not moving.” your voice is muffled. “ever.”

“how am i supposed to kiss you, then?”

you turn and peek out at him, lip curling at the mention. and then you cough. “you cant kiss me. i’m sick.”

“it’s disappointing that you think that would deter me.”

“if you’re sick how are you supposed to take care of me?”

“i’ll always take care of my baby,” he swears, leaning into you. if you were of right mind you might realize he wants a kiss. you might realize what you want.

but you only nod approvingly, and then smush your face back into his pillow.

peter groans. his hand moves to the back of your head, and he massages your scalp for a moment. “i know those clothes aren’t comfortable,” he pulls at your tight blouse, the one you wear when you want to feel good about yourself and you don’t mind neglecting to breathe. “even though it looks good on you. you’re sweating through it.”

your muffled voice returns: “do i smell?”

it’s a miracle that peter can understand anything you’re saying. “just like you,” he sniffs, “and maybe a bit like coffee? did you spill something on yourself?”

you don’t move. just hum into the pillow, hacking up a lung into it.

peter shakes his head. “i’m gonna need to wash that. up, baby. a shower would help your sinuses, but we’ll change if you’re tired.”

“baby,” you giggle to yourself.

“yes, baby, because you have de-aged significantly in the past hour. do i have to carry you to the closet?” his voice is teasing, but you’re not really sure that you can hear anything.

you finally turn, sitting up so you can look at peter. “am i being difficult?” you ask him, worriedly. your skin has shifted colors, and your voice is more like rock on rock. but you still frown at peter. “i’m sorry. you don’t have to do anything. i can change.”

but as you say it you double over in a coughing fit, and while you can feel peters hand on your back, you’re almost worried he’s already left.

“don’t be ridiculous,” he whispers when you’re silent again, swallowing. “i like taking care of you. though, i’m not loving that cough. do you need some water?”

you look at him, checking his eyes for something that you’d never be able to recognize in this state. and finally you nod, silent.

peter kisses your forehead and leaves for the kitchen.

you sit there, trying to keep your back perfectly straight. even through the overwhelming urge to lay back down in the bed and suffocate in the blankets.

you really just want to smell that pillow some more.

your head is pounding, and you try to remember if you even took that medicine in the first place. how long you’ve been sitting there. if peter even took your temperature in the first place.

but peter is back before you figure it out. “here,” he hands you a glass of water, watching you with narrowed eyes. “drink all of it.”

“i’m not thirsty.”

he glares at you and you smile, sipping on the water.

he smiles back, sitting down next to you and feeling all over your face with his hands. “what’s the status report?”

“still sick, but my mental capacity is coming back.”

“oh good,” peter says, leaning back but not letting go of you. “i was worried when you didn’t laugh at my elvis joke.”

you snort and lean right back into him, your head against his chest. he smells a lot better than cheap cotton.

“sorry ‘bout your pillow,” you cough out, leaning away from him suddenly so you don’t spit in his face.

“it’s fine. i enjoy a little snot with my sleep.”

“gross, peter.”

he grins down at you, kissing the top of your head again, because he is beyond adorable. then he sombers, still staring, carefully evaluating you. “do you want some more medicine? i think we’ve got some cold stuff in the cupboard.”

“the sleepy kind?”

“probably. take some of that. do you want to shower?”

“not really,” you say, letting him hold your head up. “i’m a little dizzy.”

peter frowns at you. “i’d make sure you don’t fall,” he offers.

“that’s okay,” and then you, once again, hack up some mucus in front of his face and sigh pathetically into your own hands.

“how about some tea? for your throat?” his hand moves yours away, brushing the hair out of your face.

“peter, it’s okay.”

you kiss his hand and push it away.

“the teas okay?” he frowns. “as in yes?”

“i’m okay,” you repeat, shaking your head at him. “you don’t have to do anything else. i’m fine.”

“you’re sick,” he corrects.

“i’m a big girl. i just need a nap. i’m probably not even sick.”

you emphasizes this point by choking down a cough, making your eyes water.

peter raises a brow.

you smile, tightly. “i’m just gonna go change now—“ you stand up, and then fall back down. your head spins as you feel peters hands wrap around your waist, his lips pressed against the side of your temple.

“just let me help,” he whispers, into you. “i’m not busy.”

“you had a long day.”

“i just want to cuddle with you anyway. i can take a few extra steps—like making you tea and getting you medicine.”

you shake your head. “i can do it.”

“i miss high you,” peter sighs. “c’mon, bub, stop being stubborn.”

you frown. “you’re the stubborn one. go swing and save someone else,” you tell him. “i just need a nap.”

“then i’m napping with you.”

you tilt your head back, groaning, and regretting it immediately when there’s a sharp stab in the front of your eyes.

peter kisses your now exposed neck, moving his hand so it keeps your head still. “you probably need to go to the doctor.”

“don’t be dramatic.”

peter scoffs. “you’ve got a fever of 103 degrees. i’m not dramatic.”

“i think i missed the era where you got your medical degree.”

peter scowls at you, pushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes and making sure you can see his conviction to never ever let this go. “it’s called webmd. it’s a wonderful place.”

“peter,” you whine, trying to push him away.

“baby,” he whines back, but smiles as he picks you up, like a literal baby, making sure not to jostle your head. “pajamas. what do you want to wear? and what’s the verdict on the tea?”

you sigh and lean your head into his neck. you don’t appreciate this, but it’s hurting to keep your eyes open. you cough into him, muffling yourself from the world. “can i wear your shirt?” you say, softly.

peter smiles like he’s won the lottery. you can feel it against your head. “yup,” he pops, “but it’ll cost you.”

“what?” you ask, sniffling.

“a kiss.”

he pecks your cheek, then your nose, and carries you away.

*

[throneofsapphics]

the ebb and flow of fate epilogue 

(part one) (part two) (part three) (part four) (part five)

Cazriel x f!Reader

Summary: “Pure silence filled the room, and Feyre shifted on her feet, wondering if maybe she’d crossed a line.”

Warnings: illness, mentions of violence, death, & blood

A/N: I’m sad this is over, but I've really enjoyed writing it. thank you all so much for your love on this little series <3

She took a deep breath,  steeling herself for this conversation. “When I die-“

“We don’t know -“ Cassian interrupted.

“Please,” she cut him off. “Just .. I need to say this.” 

His mouth tightened, but he nodded.

“Don’t give up. This world still needs both of you,” she swallowed harshly. The tears had already come. 

“And it doesn’t need you?” Azriel said, voice breaking half way through. 

“The world doesn’t get a choice, with me.” 

Cassian ran one hand through his hair, gripping hard enough she thought he might tear it out. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.” 

She snorted. Azriel’s eyes narrowed, he didn’t find this amusing, not one bit, but he knew laughter and humor was one of her coping mechanisms. 

“Do you think I want to die?”

“I didn’t say -” She held her hand up, and Cassian’s mouth slammed shut. Her mouth quirked up at the corner, well trained. Azriel rolled his eyes. She did hold both of their leashes, but he wouldn’t tell her that. 

“It’s happening. I refuse to insult myself or the healers pretending otherwise,” she reached out her hands, palms up, and they each took one without hesitation. “If you want to be angry, do it when I'm dead or not looking. I’m the sick one, you have to listen to me.” 

Cassian looked like he was about to disagree, thought better of it, and pulled her into his chest. “We’ll see who’s listening to who tonight,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. 

-

Pure destruction stood in front of him. A killing field. Some parts scorched, raw power incinerating everything in its path, others still coated with blood and mismatched body parts. There would be no identifying who had fallen. 

Rhys would never be glad his cousin died, not in millenia, but he’s glad she didn’t have to see the war waged. She’d died weeks before it broke out, and triggered a deadly rage in both Cassian and Azriel. One the world might never see again. 

-

They never missed starfall. 

“You’ll still get to see me once a year.” She waved her hand towards the sky, about to say the most ridiculous love-sick words he’d ever heard, “I’ll be waiting for you, my spirit still traveling between worlds. We’ll find each other in whatever comes after, in the next life, maybe even shoot through time and space together.” 

Cassian’s mouth quirked up at one corner, before he picked her up and spun her in circles until she flicked his wing. 

Cassian braced his forearms on the railing, eyes fixed on the sky. “Which one do you think is her?” He didn’t need to look to know Az was right beside him. They asked this question every year, and each time came up with a different answer. He liked to think she was switching forms, maybe trying to play a joke on them, or play another game. 

-

Azriel peered down in the Cauldron again, after pulling Amren out. He’d hoped, foolishly, that she might be in there too. 

He knew Amren, even spluttering and catching her breath, caught his movement. Azriel tried to avoid her, but she eventually caught up to him and Cassian.  

“She wasn’t there,” the sorrowful, almost pitying, look in her eyes pissed him off. 

“I didn’t ask,” he said coolly. 

“Maybe not,” she assessed him. “But there’s your closure.” 

“What … what does it mean, she wasn’t there?” Cassian asked. 

“It means her soul isn’t trapped in limbo.” 

Azriel really, really didn’t want to speak about this, but Cassian kept going. “So she’s moved on?” 

“No,” Amren said sharply. “It means she’s waiting for you idiots,” Amren really never missed the chance to throw an insult in there, “in peace.” 

Cassian caught Azriel’s eye. In peace. It was a small comfort, like a bandaid stuck on a gaping wound. He knew she wanted him to move on, to go find his “peace,” but it was never the same without her. An empty space inside of him he couldn’t fill. For years, he avoided every reminder of her, did everything he could to drown out the screaming abyss threatening to tug him under. It took Cassian to pull him out, to knock some sense into him and tell him she’d be pissed off. 

-

“Cassian and Azriel had a mate.” Rhys told her quietly. Feyre paused. The sorrow in his voice threw her off. Had. 

“What happened?” She asked softly. 

“She died. Y/n was my cousin, Mor’s younger sister.” 

A part of her heart shattered. She hadn’t known he had another cousin, or that Mor had a sister. They never spoke of her. Feyre didn’t … she didn’t like that. Not that she hadn’t been told, but that they weren’t keeping her memory alive. Maybe that was unfair of her, all things considered she hadn’t been around them that long, and some wounds never truly heal. 

“Will you show me her?” She let Rhys read the silent request in her eyes; I’ll make a portrait. Her mate swallowed, before giving a short nod. 

Winter Solstice came, and to say Feyre was nervous would be an understatement. She’d decided to pull Azriel and Cassian aside before, not certain if they’d want a vulnerable moment like this in front of the rest of them. 

She handed them two identical portraits, wrapped in soft paper. 

Cassian shot her a grin, “Finally take up the offer to paint me in the nude?” 

Feyre snorted, huffing out a laugh. “Open it.” 

They both did. Pure silence filled the room, and Feyre shifted on her feet, wondering if maybe she’d crossed a line. 

For the first time, she felt like she could see every raw emotion going through Azriel’s features. 

Rhys had shown her a specific image, the three of them perched on the roof of the Townhouse, her feet swinging back and forth over the edge, a glass of wine in one hand. Azriel’s shadows subtly pinning her - keeping her from tumbling into the rose bushes. She leaned to the side, Cassian standing trying to snatch the glass from her - a wide grin on his face. Azriel watched from behind, amusement lining his features. An open emotion she hadn’t seen frequently from the male. Her mate had flown in, catching the perfect angle. 

Cassian carefully placed the painting on the table - like it was made of pure gold, and wrapped her in a tight hug. 

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[vickyvicarious]

"For your mother's sake."

It hits so hard, on multiple levels. First, what this might mean for her. It's her final effort, the most impactful thing she says after religion, superstition, outright pleading on her knees and crying all fail. She knows that she can't stop him from going, but at the very least she will try her best to protect him as much as she can. She places the crucifix around his neck herself, doesn't just hand it to him.

Did she lose a child to Dracula in the past? Is she seeing echoes of her own son in Jonathan's face? Or perhaps there have been brave young men who tried to fight back against him, who deliberately went to the castle and never returned. Maybe Jonathan is the first person she's met who is actually trying to go there, and while she knows it can only end in his death, the idea of letting anyone go willingly to that evil place is more than she can bear. She's giving up a piece of her own protection. The Count has been sending letters to her husband; he was the one who suggested Jonathan stay here. He knows of her. If she shows any resistance it could mean greater danger for herself, and giving Jonathan her crucifix means losing a powerful totem of self-protection. If he actually listened to her warning, she can probably expect a terrible fate of her own; maybe even just giving him the crucifix alone would be enough to ensure that. But again, whether he reminds her of her own lost son or just because he doesn't know what he's getting himself into, she can't bear to do nothing. She places herself in the role of his mother here. "For my sake," she's saying, "let me do what little I can to save you. Please."

Jonathan is an orphan. We don't know the circumstances of his childhood, but it's possible that he never even knew his mother. (It's my headcanon.) Even if he did, she has been gone for a long time now. And yet these are the words he can't argue with in the end. He was already taking her seriously, and trying to treat her with respect. Her warnings were obviously distressing to him, but there's no way he can actually turn back now. His livelihood depends on this trip, he has no actual evidence to justify leaving, and he also wants so badly to live up to Mr. Hawkins' trust in him. He is already "thinking of his father" (or the closest he has) when he says he has to go to the castle. And yet, the care and fear and love this woman is showing for him hits so hard. I wonder if he is thinking of his actual mother when he accepts the crucifix. Whether the concept of her or an actual memory... Or maybe he too is placing her in the role of his mother here. Maybe, in keeping the crucifix (and not just with him, but around his neck where she placed it, even as he rides away) he is saying yes to that implicit request as well. "I'll let you care for me. I'll accept it gratefully." It's the first motherly care he has probably felt in many long years.

In this book, children are placed in terrible danger again and again, and most of the time they can't be saved. Parents and parental figures are equally doomed, leaving our heroes all orphaned in a sense, unable to rely on any greater source of wisdom or comfort. They have to take things into their own hands and deal with the problem alone, despite still being caught up in grief for what they've lost - a kind of coming of age in that sense. There's even a literal version of this happening with both Arthur and Jonathan (and Mina) specifically, when their father figures die and leave them with sudden new responsibilities. And of course, the inheritances from these father figures help in distinct and immensely useful ways, even as they remain absent from the story throughout. They haunt the margins at best until death steals them away completely, and their illnesses tend to serve to divide our heroes from one another when they needed to be united sooner. I personally don't count van Helsing as a father figure really, but if you do then he is the only one who manages to be around and be directly helpful (and even then, he's unable to save Lucy), even though all the fathers we hear from are loved and loving. But we do actually meet a few mothers, and they are usually unable to alter the story despite being more present. Their efforts to save their children are misdirected and only bring about their own death as well, in the end. Lucy's mother seems to mean well but everything she does directly makes everything harder; the mother at the castle later tries to avenge her child possibly against the wrong person, and in any case is unable to succeed. But here, the innkeeper's wife with her crucifix manages what no other mother does. Even though she assumes this to be another wasted effort (in fact, she can't bear to remain in the room with him afterwards; re: Dracula did such a good job with the hopelessness in her voice when she says the 'mother's sake' line), her assistance helps Jonathan to survive. His 'inheritance' from this momentary mother-figure isn't just the physical crucifix, though that is useful (and also the only inheritance a mother leaves for a child throughout the book, even when it would be expected and easy and make complete sense to do so, ahem). It's also the first and the most knowledgeable and the most effective aid given to a 'child' throughout the entire book.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Perfect Queen?

BRANDON STARK X READER

Summary- As the new queen and lady of Winterfell, you feel out of place. Thankfully, Bran reassures you of your position and loves you for who you are- not who you are trying to be.

A/N- I have not written for GoT in awhile, but HotD season 2 has sparked my interest again! Reminder that REQUEST ARE OPEN! <3

Requested by- @eualiabd @zamwnda

Word count- 1,612

You were barely a noble. The third daughter out of seven girls born into house Frey. Not a single male survived long enough to carry on the family name. What does a family full of women do? Marry off. So quickly that just after your ten and nine birthday, you were the only sister who was unwed.

Maybe being from a low house, and not having much experience with lordship- landed you as King Brandon Starks wife.

Of course, your mother was ecstatic when the king of all men, wanted to marry you. You had only known the previously named prince when he was a boy.

His father, Ned Stark, would visit on business to the Riverlands. Brandon always joined, eager to see you. Even after his fall, you were able to see him one last time before he disappeared for many years. You were devastated when you learnt of his 'death.' When he returned, you figured he forgot all about you. Though, a dozen knights showing up at your door, requesting you to meet with the King, changed your mind.

"A Stark never forgets an oath." Was his reasoning, suddenly a fond memory of Bran and you as children appeared. He, even at his young age, held your hand and swore on his name to marry you one day. To join your families.

At his now official and surprising marriage proposal, you quickly agreed. Any woman would be insane not to, feelings aside, you were helping the reputation of your house.

While your reunion with him was quick, it was satisfactory. He had changed with age and with his new responsibilities. As king and The Three Eyed Raven. Deep down, he was still the boy you loved. Even if he only showed it to you.

The cold air was refreshing, not stiff not muggy like you were used to. Though it took some time, you've learnt to grow fond of the snow and crisp feeling. A trip back to Brans home made you overjoyed. Even if Bran was only there on 'kingly' matters.

A large coat made of the finest furs rested up on your shoulders. A pin with the Stark emblem let all know you were the Queen. A title you were trying to get comfortable with. There were so many duties you were getting familiar with.

That wasn't hardly the worst part, however.

What irked you to no end, were the stares. Mostly women who were in court, or wives of men who frequented the castle. They had no room to speak, yet still murmured and gossiped to each other. The audacity to talk about the queen as they passed you. It shocked you that they were so informal.

You could never get close enough to hear, as Brandon had two Knights with you at all times. You understood the precaution, though your freedom was slightly limited.

"Bran, please tell me what they said..." You pleaded. It was evening, and the two of you were sat side by side for supper. Only separated by a corner of the table.

He looked up at you, face expressionless like it always was. "It is insignificant gossip."

You pushed your warm plate of food back, you were not interested anymore. "Not to me, it isn't."

Bran was fully aware of what they were thinking and saying. Just because he was All-Seeing, did not mean you also had to bear that burden. He would do everything he could to keep away the ill effects of his powers.

"Consider the matter finished." Was all he responded with, very 'Bran-like.'

However, the matter was not finished to you. With enough time, you knew you could get Bran to cave into you. He almost never told you 'no.' All he wanted was to keep you happy. He just did not see any reason to spread negative thoughts into your mind.

You pushed your chair back with a small screech. Taking a deep breath, you took one long stride to Bran's side.

Maybe you were trying to soften him up, you'd never tell, but you wrapped both hands around his forearm. Even crouching down to look up at him.

"I want to be a good queen. I want to fix whatever they chastised me for. Bran, you know I wont give until you tell me... Surely you know that?" You lightly moved your hand up and down his arm. He did know, he just wanted to do something his way for once. Deep within, he knew you'd get what you wanted. It was terribly hard to do anything that upset you.

He pursed his lips, giving out a sigh. "You are a good queen." He leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

With a puff you stood up, letting him go. "Obviously no one else thinks so." Your dramatic side got the best of you as you turned and left the dinning hall.

You allowed yourself to wallow in self pity, something you'd have time to regret later.

Your handmaid rushed behind you, eager to help whatever the problem was.

"I just don't understand why he won't tell me, Tamsin." You sulked on a padded chair while your handmaid gently took the ties and pins out of your hair.

She pressed a friendly hand to your shoulder, "He just wants to protect you."

You gave a half hearted smile, "I want to get better, I've never been a queen before..." You stood to let Tamsin being to unlace your corset.

You both heard a strong knock, assumingly from a member of the kings guard.

"The queen needs a moment to dress!" Tamsin called out, aware of a queens modesty.

A deep voice called back, "The King requests to see her Majesty."

Tamsin stopped with the laces and went to peek her head out. You couldn't hear what she was saying, but she quickly returned.

"Uh, Ma'am, the King is outside... waiting..." She was always a little nervous around Bran, you knew it was because of the Title and passiveness.

She fiddled with her fingers, "You are dismissed, thank you. Please let the King in." She responded with a light curtsy.

After Tamsin opened the door, you stood and watched as a knight pushed Bran in. The two of you were quickly left alone as Bran waved off the man.

You look down, trying to press your dress flat, slightly anxious.

Bran simply looked, the smallest smile present. "I apologize for upsetting you. It was not my intention." He says, his own hands resting still in his lap.

"I know..." You licked your lips, suddenly your mouth felt dry. At the following silence you started again, "Will you help me?" You gestured to your lace that was halfway tied on your back.

He nodded, "Of course."

He pushed himself over, getting closer to you. You turned your back to him, pulling your hair over your shoulders.

"Bran?" You quietly said as his gentle hands worked at your laces. An activity that was strangely intimate and peaceful.

"Yes, my love?" He responded, mindlessly. You let the dress fall from your frame. You stepped out of it, now only in a white slip.

You gnawed at your bottom lip, tears were threatening. "Please, just tell me if I become a better queen?" Your voice cracked up on the word 'queen', tears spilling over.

Hands came up to try and cover your sobs.

''I have a feeling you have been struggling with this for awhile..." Bran says, ushering you to spin around with his hands at your waist. He would never read your secret thoughts without your permission.

You weren't able to deny or agree, but you turned to look at him.

"I have seen, and you will become the most loving Queen the realm has ever known. You will be named for your care of the people." He said, pulling you down into a hug.

"Really?"

You fell further to your knees, leaning your head onto this lower chest. Bran pet your hair slowly, his other hand rested on your back.

"Have I ever lied to you?" You shook your head, still buried in him.

"Would you really like to know what those two women said?" He asked, a finger bringing your chin up. You nodded.

"They said your house was not high enough for you to become queen. They were sure that they would be better candidates." His face was stoic, clearly in disgust at what they said.

You sighed and rested your head down once again, arms crossed under your head. You looked out the side sadly, though starting to accept your position. There was nothing you could do about the house you were born into.

"You do know that I would rather die an old and lonely man than marry another? Right?" He pets your hair once again.

A smile arises on your face. "I couldn't think of a more handsome nor giving husband of you."

Without skipping a beat, he says, "Well, that's because I am king." His expression and tone is serious, but you laugh nonetheless.

It is soon clear that he was joking as well, as he breaks into a grin.

You sigh once more, this time happy. "Can we retire to bed now?" You ask, squeezing his hand.

"Whatever you so wish."

Sleep was moments from taking you, your eyes fighting to stay open. You were pressed up as close as possible to Bran, your head tucked under his chin.

"I meant what I said, earlier." Bran mentions, staring up. Without moving you speak, "About what?"

"That you're already a great queen." Your heart fills with flutters.

"Promise?"

"I swear it."

A/N- Not going to lie to y'all, I hate this one. But, I promised more Bran content! Please let me know if you have any ideas on how to improve! Thanks for reading, and thanks again for the support guys!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[emeritusemeritus]

Wanna Bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt. 1

[F.W X Reader X G.W ]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting.

Tags will be updated along the way.

Part 1

"Oh, y/n dear, how wonderful to have you with us!" Mrs Weasley said wiping her hands on her apron before she threw her arms around you, embracing you in a warm and maternal manner as you stepped inside the Burrow.

"Mrs Weasley, thank you so much for having me," you smiled, wrapping your arms around her, smiling at the comforting feel and smell that encapsulated the entire Burrow and each Weasley inside.

"Oh Mrs Weasley," she laughed pulling apart, "how many times do I have to say, call me Molly!"

"Maybe just once more," you joked, smiling wide as she huffed out a laugh, rubbing your shoulder.

"We're back too you know," Fred said from behind you, leaning on the doorframe with George fixed to his side. She hurried over smiling, pausing briefly to hit Fred's shoulder at his tone, before wrapping her arms around both the boys at the same time. It was a sight to behold, seeing little Molly Weasley trying to reach up to give her two 6ft 3 sons a hug but it was completely heartwarming, seeing their smiles.

"Oh how lovely to have my boys back," she smiles, standing beside them. The entire scene was entirely endearing, particularly the hint of a blush that spread almost in perfect sync upon the twins' cheeks.

"Is Ginny not with you?" She suddenly asks, realising that two of her expected children were not present.

"No they're stopping by Hermione's to get some things before they come home," George replies absently, wandering over to the counter where a fresh batch of scones caught his attention, sat cooling on a wire rack. He reached for one and was immediately intercepted by Molly, earning a swift slap to his hand in a silent warning.

"Right, y/n dear," she says, turning to you with a smile. "I wasn't sure what the sleeping arrangements would be for you all so you can either share Ginny's room with her and Hermione or," Molly began to say, trying to do the mental arithmetic of sleeping arrangements until she was interrupted by George.

"She can stay with us mum, we'll move our beds together and pop up the old cot from Charlie's room," he says, sounding like he had already planned it out in great detail.

"Oh, yes I suppose that would work," she says, completely unaware of the relationship blooming between the three of you. You knew she'd never agree to you sleeping with either of the twins alone, but having the other one in the room seemed to ease her mind that nothing untoward would happen.

"You aren't making her sleep in that old thing!" She suddenly says, horrified at the thought of her guest having to sleep on the death contraption that had been in their family for decades.

"No mum, she can have my bed, I'll sleep on it," Fred says, moving forward to place his hand on your shoulder, doing his best to act innocent, though you could see straight through it.

"Wonderful," Molly says, clapping her hands together as she moves away and busies herself in the kitchen again. She shouts to the boys to help you with your bags, to which they both reply in perfect synchronisation that they already were.

They usher you up the stairs, each twin carrying one of your bags as you make your way to their bedroom. It's exactly as you remember, except it looks like it's been cleaned recently, no doubt by Molly.

"You're not really sleeping on the cot are you?" You ask, turning to Fred. He gives you a look of bewilderment before snorting out a laugh, reaching out for your hand to pull you into his chest, his right arm securing you to his body as it wraps around your waist.

"Not for a single second," he smirks, reaching up to play with a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your ear.

"But we are pushing the beds together," George says from behind you, moving closer to you both.

"And you are going to sleep right in the middle, between both of your handsome," Fred adds.

"Charming," George.

"Well endowed..."

"Boyfriends," they both say, sandwiching you between their bodies. You couldn't help but smile at their antics, realising that they had clearly had this planned for quite some time.

"So I get to sleep on the divide of the beds and fall between in the middle of the night? How romantic," you joked, reaching up to play with the collar of Fred's jacket.

"Ahh we've thought of that too," George says from behind you, reading down to place a kiss to the side of your neck.

Suddenly, both twins pull away and start organising the bedroom. Fred pulls away the small cabinet between the beds and places it next to you near the door, winking at you as he moves back to help George move the beds. They drag Fred's bed over from the right towards George's on the left and create one large bed in the middle of the room. George rushes off to get the cot from Charlie's room and unfolds it for decorative purposes in the space left behind where Fred's bed used to be.

Fred suddenly pulls back the sheets from both beds and then pulls out his wand and casts a charm you'd never heard of. The bed is immediately fixed together through magic, causing you to raise your eyebrows in amazement. He throws the covers haphazardly over the beds before doing the same to the sheets, making it one large duvet. He turns his head to you, seeing you look on in amazement and shoots a cocky smirk towards you.

"Your boyfriend's good right?" He smirks, causing you to roll your eyes slightly. George then moves the cabinet beside you towards the back of the room, sliding it under the space of the desk, kicking the little waste paper bin to the side.

"Fit for a Queen," George smiles, gesturing towards the large bed.

"Or for a fit Queen," Fred quips, gesturing towards you. "Crash test?"

You huff out a laugh at the terrible pun and move to throw yourself down onto the newly extended bed, instantly surprised by the lack of divide between the two and the fact that it was actually quite sturdy.

"You know we could test it out in different ways," George says smirking as he looks at you, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You look up at him with a sultry look, liking the idea very much, before you turn to look at Fred with the same pointed look.

"Boys! Y/n! The others are here and lunch is ready!" Molly's voice radiates surprisingly well up the stairs of the burrow, effectively ending your next moves and the boys immediately huff and grunt in frustration. You offer them a sad smile before reaching your hand out to George for him to pull you up. He instantly reaches out for your hand in his large one and pulls you up towards him effortlessly.

"Later?" You ask with a small smile, reaching up and pouting so that he'd kiss you. His eyes light up just slightly as he silently nods enthusiastically before reaching down to give you a sweet kiss. You then turn to Fred who is not so patiently waiting his turn before he drags you out of his brothers arms and into his own. He also reaches down to give you a sweet kiss, though his is much more loaded than George's, his tongue licking along your bottom lip as he fights to deepen the kiss. You pull away with a chuckle, placing your hand on his chest. "Down boy," you joke and he grins down at you.

"Not me you need to be telling princess," he cheekily grins, wiggling his eyebrows and poignantly flicking his eyes down to his groin, which seems excited to say the least. You bite your lip and drag your hand down his chest towards his excited member, placing your hand gently over the bulge in his trousers. You flick your eyes up to his face as he stands with wide eyes and his lips parted in a little 'o' shape, following your movements very carefully.

"Down boy," you whisper, teasing as you suddenly pull your hands away and move to walk out of the bedroom door. You can hear George's laughter as you descend the stairs and then a little commotion and 'ow' from George, no doubt caused by Fred.

You greet Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny in the kitchen, followed by George only a minute later and then by Fred five minutes after that. You don't miss the little mock glare he shoots you as he takes a seat at the table, one twin either side of you. All you can do is give him a little innocent, doe-eyed smile before you focus your attention on the array of food that Molly had prepared.

"So, y/n, what are your plans whilst you're here?" Ginny asks you from across the table, pausing at the end to frown at Ron who had shovelled as much food as possible into his mouth and then asked, with a mouthful of food, for Harry to pass the bread rolls.

"I'm not really sure," you smiled with a little shrug, not really considering what was on the agenda.

"She's busy, whatever you've got planned," Fred says bluntly as he pokes at his food, already disliking the idea of you spending time with anyone else whilst you were away from school. You immediately elbow him roughly in the shoulder, earning a laugh from George who watches on silently.

"Never too busy for you Gin," you said, winking at her with a smile. She smiled back and began talking about you girls having a sleepover one night, which did sound fun. Fred muttered something under his breath but you gave him a swift kick to the shin under the table which George snickered at, keeping quiet himself as to not also feel your wrath.

As soon as Fred and George had finished eating they all but dragged you away from the table and up to their bedroom, pausing only briefly for you to shout out your thanks to Molly for a wonderful lunch.

As soon as you were back in their room, you threw yourself down onto the bed, rolling to lie on your stomach as you watched them pull out their trunk of tricks. You'd already agreed earlier on that morning on the train home that you would help them with their new idea for their business, some sort of new confectionary, no doubt with a sinister twist.

From your conversation and actions before lunch, you'd assumed the boys had dragged you upstairs for another reason entirely, but it seemed that their current developments had overshadowed their needs. You had to hold back a laugh at the pair, realising that they were the only two men you knew that would focus on their pranks over sex with their girlfriend.

They had assured you not long after that they had the afternoon and evening all planned out and they would only spend a little time doing this before you could do something more exciting, something you'd really enjoy.

"So they're like puking pastilles but not?" You asked from your position on the bed, bent legs swinging behind you as you watched them concentrate on their project. Fred simply nodded, eyes never once leaving the prototype, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he tried to perfect the recipe.

"Kind of, angel," George explained, using his nickname for you, flicking his eyes up to yours as he spoke, "but they don't make the eater sick, just make them turn pale and sickly looking."

"Ahh make them turn into a Weasley then," you joked. George immediately threw a piece of whatever he had in his hand at you in retaliation and Fred simply snorted, still focusing on the task at hand.

It was the most you'd spoken since they began tinkering, their full attention and focus on their creation. It wasn't exactly the day you had in mind and you were quite frankly thoroughly bored, something you very rarely were in the presence of the Weasley twins. You couldn't blame them, they were in the development stage of their new product, which meant perfecting the recipe and then the antidote which took time and patience.

"Are you adding them to the skiving snack boxes?" You asked after a few more moments of silence, trying to occupy yourself as you sat bored in their room.

"No, they're more like an additional add on," George explained, reaching up to grab something beside you on the bed, briefly pausing to touch your leg as he leaned beside you.

"Ah a savvy business move," you replied cheekily.

When it fell silent again, you rolled over onto your back and stared up at the disjointed ceiling, watching how the wooden beams interlocked at awkward angles and looking at all the various memorabilia and stuff that littered the walls of their room. You briefly considered going to visit Ginny and the others before your eyes started to close on their own accord.

———————————

"Bugger bugger bugger!"

You frowned at the sudden burst of noise, your eyes struggling to open and then focus as you realised you'd fallen asleep on the bed. You sat up, squinting at the light from the windows around you and watched in confusion as George paced around the room in a tizzy.

"George?" You asked weakly, your voice not quite working yet. He turned around with such a speed it was almost alarming. His face looked panicked and nervous and you immediately sat further up in concern, your sleepy haze fading rapidly as worry took over you. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Fred, I told him not to but you know what he's like when he gets something in his head and he wouldn't listen," George babbles, messing with his hair as he paces the room.

"Fred? What's wrong with Fred?" You asked, trying to figure out what George was saying.

"He ate the bloody thing!" He says, throwing himself down onto the rickety metal cot in the corner of the room. It suddenly all made sense to you and a lingering unease settled in your stomach as you thought about the dangers.

"Where is he?" You asked quickly, worried that he wasn't in the room.

"Toilet," George mumbles, running his hand through his hair again.

You immediately leapt off the bed and ran out into the corridor, trying to be quiet as to not alert anyone else as you quickly scaled the wooden staircase that lead up to the next level of the burrow where the toilet was.

You quietly knocked on the door, "Freddie?"

You heard a brief, slow shuffle on the other side of the door and the door creaked open to reveal Fred who looked bloody awful.

"Bloody hell," you said without thinking, looking upon the appearance of your boyfriend. He quickly pulled you into the bathroom and closed the door behind you both. You scrunched your nose at the vague smell of sick that hung in the air but you quickly got past it, moving to stand in front of Fred.

He looked ghostly pale and a little green in his undertone, sweat forming like droplets on his forehead where he had pushed back his hair. His eyes looked sunken and dull, no longer twinkling like usual and his under eyes were almost purple looking. You tried not to react, already feeling bad about your subconscious outburst at seeing him and tried to wipe away a few beads of sweat off his brow. To your surprise, they wouldn't actually wipe off and had become an effect of the sinister sweets they'd created. "How you feeling Freddie?" You asked, trying to keep your voice even.

"At least we know they work, a little too well," he says, deflecting the question. He suddenly lurches away from you and shuffles quickly to the toilet as he heaves whilst clutching his stomach, though nothing comes up. "Sorry," he cringes in embarrassment at you seeing that, "thought I'd got through the worst of that."

"How long does is take for the antidote to kick in?" You asked, concerned about the lasting effects, not knowing exactly how long ago he'd eaten it. He didn't verbally reply but instead gave you a little uncomfortable smile, telling you everything you needed to know.

"Fred Weasley!" You whisper yelled, striking him in the shoulder as you realised he hadn't created the antidote yet. "You frigging idiot!" You hit him again and he just stood there and took it, though he did seem to lose a little of his balance.

"It was more to test out the taste," he said quietly, as if it was an excuse for eating the contraption. "Which definitely still needs work by the way, bloody awful aftertaste, too much caramel." You shot him a look of utter bewilderment as he heaved again, frustration building in you as he didn't take it seriously at all, despite looking like a walking corpse and heaving all over the place.

"Come on, you need to lie down," you said, extending your hand to his to lead him back to his bedroom. You lead him down the stairs and into his and George's room, carefully avoiding anyone else in the house.

"Bloody hell," George said, looking up from his hands, not moving an inch since you'd left, as his brother entered the room, seeing him look absolutely awful.

"At least we know it works," Fred says with the hint of a smirk, though his eyes still looked sad and glimmer-less.

"Bed. Now." You ordered, annoyed at his joking especially at a time like this. Surprisingly, Fred complied without any qualms and threw himself down onto the bed, his eyes closing in relief as he lay there. You tipped out a few loose crumbled papers from the waste bin next to the desk and placed it beside the bed incase he needed it.

"George, can you get him some water please?" You asked, turning your attention back to the notes they'd made on the recipes, trying to figure out if any of the ingredients had a reverser you could use to cancel out the effects.

Fred heaved again and you tensed, turning to offer him some help, only to see him half flinging out of bed to lean over to the bin. You stood and reached out for the bin and placed it into his arms, where he kept it secured and never out of reach.

"What do you mean he's sick? Fred, er, George move out the way!" You heard Molly's voice getting louder and louder, matching the influx of panicked footsteps that seemed to be running up the stairs. She immediately burst through the room and made an ungodly sound as looked upon her son, seeing his frighteningly pale complexion and overall malaise as he clutched his bin, looking helpless.

"Oh my boy," she said, running over to him. She immediately put the back of her hand towards his head and frowned at feeling a lack of temperature.

"That's odd," she mutters. "Are you two okay?" She asks, turning to you and George who are standing off to the side, both a little scared of her reaction and Fred's symptoms.

"Yeah mum."

"Yes Molly," you both replied at the same time, trying to sound completely sincere.

"Did he eat anything on the train?" She asks, trying to smooth his hair down in the front to keep it away from his face. You could tell he tried his hardest to hold back the impending heave but he couldn't hold it any longer and dry heaved once again into the waiting bin.

"Cauldron cake," you said, thinking quickly, "he did eat a cauldron cake on the train, but we shared some fizzing whizbees, didn't we George?" You looked at George, imploring him with your eyes to go along with it.

"Yeah," George said suddenly nodding as he looked at you before turning to his mum, "maybe the cake was bad?"

Molly mumbled something in frustration as she looked at Fred before zooming out the door, muttering something about her apothecary kit which might be of use.

"Georgie," Fred says quietly as he tries to get his brother's attention. George moves closer to Fred and leans down so that Fred can whisper in his ear. You frown, watching them secretly converse, wondering what they are saying.

Molly returns not a moment later, armed with an array of various potions and elixirs which could hopefully cure Fred.

The truth was, the only thing that was able to cure their inventions quickly were the antidotes, otherwise the symptoms would stick around for roughly 24 hours at most, the effectiveness of the enchanted foods rapidly decreasing once the 12 hour mark passed with the entire malady vanishing after 24 hours. You and George both knew that Fred would be okay tomorrow but it wouldn't hurt for him to at least take some of the potions to ease his queasiness.

"Here eat this, slowly, that's right," Molly says, thrusting some form of wafer towards Fred. He pulled a disgusted face as he ate it but to his credit he did manage to consume it without gagging and keep it down. "Dehydrated ginger root, it should help with the nausea," she explained to no one in particular as she faffed about in the little case, searching for a specific bottle. She eventually gave up and pulled out her wand, mumbling accio to bring the thing she needed to the front.

"Here, drink this, it's dandelion root and burdock oil, it will help with your complexion and ease your tummy," she said to Fred, smoothing back his hair again as another wave of gagging ran through him.

He took slow sips of the potion and raised his eyebrows at the taste, clearly not expecting it to be so tasty.

"We have that at home," you said, not really sure of why you said it but it was funny to see the wizard if equivalent to a muggle drink.

"Really?" Molly asks, turning to you with a surprised look on her face.

"Yeah but it's just a fizzy drink, not really medicinal anymore," you explained with a laugh, feeling a little silly about your random tangent.

"We need to get some," Fred mumbled, drinking down the rest of the potion enthusiastically, causing Molly to loudly warn him to take it steady.

"We could nip into the village and get some for you?" You turn to George, asking him with your eyes if he'd join you, "I know where they sell it." George nodded with a little shrug. You then turned back to look at Fred and Molly who looked at you in surprise, "if it would make you feel better." Fred nodded enthusiastically with a little smile, already seeing a little more colour coming to his face.

"Oh, how lovely, what a lovely gesture," Molly said with a warm smile. "You can take your father's car, as long as you are safe," she said, fixing George with a look of warning.

"How little you think of me," George said sarcastically.

"Or how well she knows you," you snorted, reaching behind him to search for a sweater in your trunk.

"I'll go get the keys," Molly says, taking her apothecary case with her as she moves out of the room.

"Fuck," you mumbled, still searching for a sweater but not finding any.

"What's wrong?" George asks, moving to stand behind you.

"I can't find my sweater," you mumbled again, trying to dig through your belongings but coming up empty handed.

"We've got plenty, borrow one of ours," George says casually, walking straight over to the drawers on the left side of the room and pulling out a thick knitted cardigan that you'd remembered the both of them wearing to the quidditch World Cup. "This okay?" He asks, extending it towards you.

"It's perfect, thank you," you smile, reaching for it and slipping it around yourself, feeling the warmth and coziness of it already, the wonderfully comforting scent of the twins surrounding you. You couldn't help but raise the fabric of the sleeve up to your nose for a closer smell, your eyes closing as you smiled at the scent. You could tell this one was Fred's from the unmistakable but subtle marshmallow sweetness of his natural scent which George didn't have.

When you looked up, the boys were both watching you with smirks on their faces, clearly seeing everything you'd done. You blushed under their intense gazes and turned away, grabbing a few things you'd need and placing them into the little bag you'd brought, making sure you had your little coin purse of muggle money.

"You ready?" You asked George, who was stood next to Fred quietly talking. He turned and nodded, mumbling out 'nearly' and walked over to the little wardrobe hidden in a nook in the corner before pulling out a blue patterned shirt. He slipped off the polo shirt he'd been wearing and you couldn't help but watch as he stood shirtless, slipping into his blue shirt and slowly buttoning it up. You couldn't take your eyes away from him, admiring his naked torso and staring at the small patch of hair on his chest and the beautiful trail that started just below his naval and stretched downwards. He looked at you, amused with his eyebrow raised as he caught you looking and for the second time in minutes you couldn't help but blush. "Ready," he said with a firm nod, appearing by your side.

"Do you want anything else?" You asked, turning to Fred but found him sleeping, clearly exhausted by his sickness or one of Molly's potions had knocked him out cold. George reached for your waist and smiled as he guided you out the door, slowly closing the wooden door as to not wake his brother as you both went on your little adventure.

[gamblersdoll]

Thankyou for answering my question!

This week is 2 years since my best friend was killed, grief sucks ass and not in the fun way.

I’d love to request a Katsuki x fem!reader who’s best friend passed away suddenly and how he helps them cope with it

Thanks DV! <3

first off, my condolences. angst turned to fluff

an: i hope this was satisfactory, added some things a bit.

two years since they died, and it still feels like yesterday since it all happened. the memories of the constant confusion, the fact they weren’t answering the phone, to getting the call that they had perished in the worse way possible.

you remember feeling your heart drop to the pit of your stomach, the other person on the line barely giving any answers, a reason, nor comfort to the sobs that you choked out and feeling the world starting to spin.

luckily, katsuki was there just ready to help. he knew what death felt like, experiencing it briefly himself when he was merely sixteen in a war he shouldn’t have been in. he held you until you couldnt cry anymore, only rubbing circles in your back and stay quiet, warming his palm and reach over in the mini fridge to grab you water.

but yet, it was two years ago when they had perished. and here were you, stuck in bed and have yet to get up. along the lines of nightmares, the days that led up to their death, the last phone call from them, all just to everyone not even answering your questions.. you hated how depression and grief got to you. especially just doing motor functions or basics of life.

your job had given you the week off, knowing how it was and they graciously believed in mental health. and you needed the week anyway..

yet, you still feel stuck, your mind still in and out of the black waves of your pain and emptiness that you felt without having them here. you couldnt be social after that, feeling like it would be wrong to have a new best friend or just have a associate. your head hurt, becoming dehydrated from the lack of water you consumed. and somehow though? even if you didnt drink anything, you had to pee. yet, you physically can’t move.

everything felt way too heavy to even get up, costing your skin to become dry and scaly, your bladder becoming full and kidneys starting to hurt from the back up. you started to lose some pounds due to everything.. and you felt like you were going crazy—

“bad day, huh?” katsuki enters, kicking off his boots and taking off his gauntlets. he struts over, a gloved hand wiping tears and hair from your face. “you eat yet?”

you shook your head no, him nodding and scooping you up.

“can tell youve been in bed all day, dragon breath.” he mumbles, hearing your distasteful groans and plopping you onto the porcelain seat. “youve gotta piss though, cant fuck up your kidneys.” he reminds, the water faucet running and he dobbles a dip of toothpaste on the bristles, pressing your lip up and drawing circles on your teeth with the toothbrush.

“you dont have to baby me, katsuki.” you mumble, him snapping his fingers and quietly telling you to stick your tongue out so he can use the tongue scraper on you. “this is embarrassing” you say with your mouth open.

“try again?” he asks, pulling the scrapper away.

“it’s embarrassing you have to do this..” you say, him flicking your forehead. “ow!”

“yer my gahdamn girl, ain’t nothin’ embarrassing about me takin’ care of you.” he says, pointing at the mouthwash cup next to you. “now swish. im going to go get dinner started and get some clothes for your bath.”

you sigh, nodding your head, no strength in fighting with him. you hear the bath faucet start up, the strong current of water flooding into the tub and watching the stream go in.

“arms up.” he says, pulling your shirt over your head and tying your hair up. your pants were already off, due to him forcing you to express your bladder. he scoops you up again, gently sitting you into the bath and turning the water off. “stay here, ill bring you everything.”

maybe about fifteen, twenty minutes had passed? you don’t remember, the concept of time was little to non existent right now. but you hear him come in with some pasta, had cajun in it. and luckily, just a shirt and shorts to keep you in.

“you didnt have to do all of this.” you say, rubbing your eyes from exhaustion and potential tears bubbling down your face. “i should be able to do all of these things, im a grown woman.”

he only sits and listens, him picking up a rag and gently scrubbing your back, neck and shoulders. “let me tell you something,”

your ears perk up, slowly lifting the fork and eating the portion of pasta.

“when izuku lost his quirk, i was like this too a bit.” he says, recalling the day that allmight and izuku told katsuki after everything they had went through, he had been back to quirkless. “it was like a piece of me had died, and it felt like i had nothing to rely on, or anything.”

“yet, the only things that really helped me were a goal, and the extras around me that were in my ear everyday.” he says, watching your face light up just a little bit, turning up to look at him. “the memories of izuku being quirkless didnt die, we just.. made him a suit that did everything he did.”

“their memories dont have to die either, all you just have to figure out or remember is what they always told you.” he squishes your cheeks together with his fingers, and he watches your nose scrunch. “i know they arent the same, definitely not, but im trying.”

“it.. it helps, since youre here feeding me and washing my ass.” you chuckled, him rolling his eyes and scoffing in a joking manner. “thank you, katsuki.”

“you want me to shave yer pits too?” he asks, water being splashed at him and he growls. “cut the shit, forest fire.”

“choke on my smoke.” you say, doing the great lord explosion god dynamights impression.

they always told you several different things, being along the lines of them loving you, about how close they were to you, or about their obsession with bumblebees.

bumblebees? like.. the transformer or the actual insect? no, definitely the insect.

and with the turn of your head, finishing up putting on your clothes and hearing katsuki go down the stairs with the bowls of the eaten pasta , you saw them.

the biggest bumblebee that they raved about.

[iamalily]

"Im a demon"

WARNING ⚠ (MINORS DNI)

devilxhumam | spanking | choking

Size kink | petnames | softdomsoob

Slight bdsm |???

(Let me know if i missed something)

This is my first smut fic, so hopefully you enjoy it!! 🍓

You were laying in bed, it was past 2am and you couldn't sleep, thinking back about what your friends said about how you were really supposed to get your back blown before you leave college

"Man fuck this" you exclaim sick of it, you go to your app store and download tinder, making a profile for yourself, not even a 30 minutes in, you start getting matches

Your bio was quite interesting actually...really catching the attention of lots of people that come across your page

"Just need a good fuck, don't care who, jeez i don't even care if its the devil himself"

And so you fall asleep, not expecting to wake up so soon since you were really tired

Hearing weird noises your eyes slowly start to flutter open, you swear you heard someone just talk to you, whisper your name...you swear you felt someone's breath on your neck

"Hey little one"

You scream out in fear, quickly getting a hand over your mouth that wasn't really yours, you thought you might get kidnapped or killed, maybe it was robbers, or maybe it wasn't such a good idea to also put your location in your bio in tinder, maybe the devil himself might show up..

And so he did.

"Keep quiet for me hm? Wouldn't want to alarm your roommates, now im going to take my hand off your mouth and you'll do me a favor and keep quiet okay baby?" You agreed quickly nodding your head, as he takes his hand off your mouth,the first thing you feel is something soft touching your lips

You push him away with all your might,Seriously who does this guy think he is, before you could even start lashing out at him

"Im soobin, a demon...of many things in fact but tonight I'll be the demon of lust" he exclaims proud with a sly grin on his face

"A... A demon? You won't kill me? Or..eat me? Are you here to take me to hell?" You flood him with all sorts of questions, scared of what will happen next, you move backwards, curling under your blanket which was thrown to the side not so long ago

Soobin chuckles, smirking as he looks at your tiny figure scrambling away from him

"I won't hurt you...unless you like that..and im not going to eat you, only your pussy of course-"

Y/N cuts him off with a sound that sounded quite like a hiccup, blushing from his words, you move forward again, sitting on the near edge of your bed now, looking up to him..'.he's..really handsome..and tall...' You think to yourself

"I am indeed handsome and tall"

You hear from what seems like the guy standing in front of you that you were just thinking about...

"Can...you read my mind or something...that's so weird..what if i thought something dirty, that would traumatize you sir"

he leans into you, his face inches from yours

"do me a favor hm? I promise ill let you go once we are done" he completely ignores your words, you nod your head, scared to death but you're dumb enough to listen, and besides, if you were gonna die then it would have already happened, so you gotta try this one in a lifetime situation that you're in

He smiles at you, moving in closer

"Open your mouth wide and close your eyes." You obey immediately, afraid of what he might be planning on doing,his tongue brushes against yours, your breathing slightly getting heavier by his sudden actions, you begin kissing back against him,as he pushes you more into the mattress with all his weight, pulling you towards him as you continue kissing him, his hands move down your body slowly, his fingers begin tracing their way around your lower torso, down to your thighs...

his hands start to move down, you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter by the thought of getting caught..of what he might do to you, every touch, every finger caress making you want more

His lips trail down your neck, letting his hot breath hit your skin

"Soobin" He whispers softly

Huh...

"My name is soobin, remember it"

He moves his hand down, placing it on your thigh, rubbing your leg slowly

"well hey now, dont worry, no harm will come to you, this is gonna be fun, we're gonna get each other nice and hot.." you could tell he was just teasing you, it took everything in your power to not run screaming for the hills, yet here you were, completely aroused by the guy

"Thats if you dont scare me away..." you chuckle nervously

"Shit baby" he chuckles again

he brings his hands back up, slowly slipping them inside your pajama bottoms, brushing against your bare skin

You bite your lip, sighing softly, your heart racing at his touch, his fingers trailing along your slit gently, causing you to moan loudly, squirming under his touch

"So sensitive, princess,you gotta be quiet" he laughs

you roll your eyes at his comment, shutting your eyes tight as he slides a finger into your tight pussy

you could hear him groan out, unable to help yourself ,you grind down on his palm softly

Smirking,he moves down,his tongue suddenly runs over your clit, causing you to moan out loudly, not knowing what's gotten into you,you were never this sensitive or needy before,pulling up your shirt exposing your small tits to him with a slight embarrassed look on your face

He smirks, reaching up grabbing a handful of your breasts roughly making you squirm

His tongue swirling around your clit, you let out another loud moan, digging your nails into his back as he pushes two fingers inside you

"Shh baby" He chuckles before leaning in, holding your hips down as he devours your pussy, wet sloppy sounds are heard and loud moans coming from your side, soobin moves his hand upwards putting it over your mouth to muffle your sounds which only made you louder

"Stop soobin" You start whining, it being intense since it's been a while

"what baby? Can't handle it? "

"Lets try something new shall we?" you ask him breathlessly, pushing him onto his back, straddling him as you reach up running your hands through his hair

"Let me ride you.." you beg him "please soobin" he looks confused for a second "why? What are you talking about? This is supposed to be me pleasing you" you shake your head at him trying to get him to comply

"Ohhh honey....fine, but I'm still in charge"

"We'll see about that pretty boy" you grin, looking deep into his eyes "you're a very confusing human being, i like it" he answers, somehow intrigued by your actions and words..

You start grinding on his dick softly, slowly speeding up by the second, his cock getting hard as he tries to muffle his moans, pretending as if he doesn't want this too

With a snap of his fingers, he is fully undressed and so are you, sitting on his lap just like before just nothing covering you guys now, you feel his tip slightly touch your thigh and your eyes widen by its size, hands slightly trembling as you never really dealt with someone as big as him

"Soobin..." - "don't worry, I'll be gentle"

You contemplate for a while before taking him in your hands, jerking him off for a while before trying to put him inside you, you feel his tip prodding at your hole, shutting your eyes closed as you let out high pitched whimpers, trying to take more than you actually could

"Come on, I'm sure you could do better, take some more not just the tip" he grabs onto your waist pushing you down on his cock further, his cock now almost fully buried inside your warm folds, tears brimming at your eyes as you try to pull yourself together, slowly moving up and down on him, your hands flat on his chest, as you can't help but start crying from the mix of pain and pleasure coursing through your body

"Soobin~ it's too big" you mumbled out, embarrassed

"Shh it's okay, let me help a bit" he slightly lifts his legs and suddenly starts thrusting upwards into your core, falling forward as you lay on his chest, your moans get louder as you try to squirm away from him but he holds you tightly against him, snapping his fingers once again, there's suddenly rope around your hands, keeping them together behind your back so you won't push him away, his thrusts speeding up as your moans get louder, small groans from him

"Fuck...you're sound so pretty for me, do you wanna cum?"

You nod like the pathetic slut you are,he moves his hand down to your ass, giving it a hard smack before continuing to abuse your tiny cunt

"Fuck.. Soobin..gonna cum" you squeak out, your voice starting to slightly go away when his hand trails up to wrap around your throat, thrusting up into you and hitting your g-spot, it was too much for you, you couldn't control yourself as your body starts shaking softly and your pussy clenches, you came, moaning loudly and not caring who heard you, it's been way to long to keep quiet

Soobins thrusts slowing down as cum leaks out of your whole, took quite a moment for you to process what just happened

"Wait...you didn't cum-"

"I did...inside of you doll"

You blush at the thought of having babies with this random stranger you just fucked with, not understanding why you asked the following question but you did anyways

"Will you come back soobin?"

"I'll see you tomorrow again, maybe this time we should get to actually know each other,and do delete your tinder profile"

You smile, somehow relieved you got to meet him...and you're wondering what this will lead to..

*+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡　｡.｡:+*

AAAAA hopefully it was okay, anyways THANK YOU FOR READING!! what should i do next? 👀 idk...but we'll see~

- Lily

[blueflipflops]

Blessed is The Fruit of Thy Womb III

Chapter 3: Then God Asked Cain,"Where is Abel, your brother?"

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Inspired by @cyrwrites 's prompt of Talia being pregnant from exposure to the Lazarus Pits.

...

" Tt. How should I know? I'm not his keeper."

"Dami you just implied that you have a younger brother still in the hands of the League."

The Robin clicked his tongue again, frustration and familliar irrational anger building up inside him.

"It doesn't matter."

"Dami—"

"It. doesn't. matter."

Dick furrowed his eyebrows in concern as Damian quickens his pace towards the elevator, not wanting to continue the conversation.

When Damian first arrived he was angry, eager to prove his worth and word. It seemed that whatever Talia told him, didnt include Bruce having other sons than him. So finding out about this from not even the highly praised father he has, he had to be told of this by said not known brother.

He demanded Batman.

But there is no Batman. Bruce was dead declared missing for more than months now without any contact or notice. Dick has been relunctantly picking up the slack while juggling his own responsibilities as Nightwing back in Bludhaven. Its been a hard time and believe him, he has juggled before. Both literally and figuratively

When he tried to offer the robin mantle to him as maybe to calm him down a bit, he just got angrier and snippy. He rejected the offer but demanded to be trained for the whole duration of his 'stay'.

"I was sent here to be trained by batman and I won't leave until I finish my goal. If it has to be from batman's...successor then so be it."

Okay, that kinda hurt. He doesn't want to be Batman either y'know.

That was what he claimed as he strolled up jnto the mansion like he owned the place. Ever since then, Dick has organized a somewhat schedule for trainings that he deliberately stretched out at first to test him. Which is. Um. Wrong move. This only serves to piss him off more and more prone to lethal attacks.

Yeah. Okay. That attitude needs a little work.

He tried to rudely order around Alfred the first few days and just got more frustrated and angry when Dick scolded him for it. The kid doesn't even want to eat with them even if they lived together (although that might be stretching it a bit since Dick doesn't even live in the manor anymore.) He still try to include Damian in his activities with Tim (who doesn't seem to concern himself too much about the addition. Too occupied in proving that Bruce is still a-alive. ) , to get him out of his shell and maybe talk about what exactly is Talia thinking and what the actual fuck is going on with the LOA. With all the bull happening around with B's death and Tim's insitence on his non-death then him suddenly disappearing to who knows where and everything else the world decided to pile up on him recently.

Fuck. He's so not paid enough for this. In fact, he's not getting paid at all.

And that was 3 years ago, Tim came back with a clusterfuck of a report and possibly a few ill-advised stuff that he's turning a blind eye on. For now.

Tim brought back Bruce, (which is a whole other cans of worms Dick won't open. He will tho. He will. He will process this shit. Just not today. Nope.) declared that he has outgrown Robin, that he's trying his hand on a solo act and after a little help, Cardinal flew in the streets of Gotham. Dick is proud of his brother spreading his wings and leaving the nest but this leaves Damian with Bruce. While Bruce is still recovering, a new Robin picks up the slack. Dick and Damian were a team and the kid was so desperate to prove himself worthy of the mantle that he has been streching himself as thin as Dick lets him and while he follows orders, he's quick to taking advantage of all and any loopholes. If it weren't making his job 10x harder, he would've been amused of such a Robin Move. In all of those years, they grew close to each other, the kid even respects Tim now!

So when Damian mentioned—no, implied that he has another brother still back in LOA, no one can blame Dick for being blindsided.

"Dami. What brother?" He chased after the short feral child.

"Tch. I don't see how that's any of your business, Grayson." He gave him a derisive look as he pushed the button to lift back to the manor. "Your only use here is to instruct and teach me as is your responsibility as Father's succesor not meddle in my personal life. After Father has recovered, he shall continue my training and things would go as it should be." He gave Dick one last sneer before the door closed and a faint hum echoes out in the cave along with what he said.

A brother?!?!

...

When Tim first met Damian Al Ghul Wayne, the demon brat tried to kill him. Which is. Just how his life is now, he guess. The kid was 4"6 beansprout with a sword and is not afraid to use it. Apparently, he tried to stab Dick the first time too. The kid is clearly delusional but after several blood tests Tim has had to admit defeat.

This brat really is B's kid and he hates him already.

This could be a plot.

Ra's would do anything to gain power over Batman and Gotham but mostly Batman.

It smells like a plot.

Dick couldn't get anything out of him other than that he was 'the Blood Son of Batman' and that he was sent here for Bat Training by Talia and he's not leaving. He also said something about his birthright to being the next Batman and being his robin. Which is. Yeah. Hurts a bit. He knows he hasn't been able to be Dick's Robin (oh the combination of those words) being too busy proving that Bruce is still alive. He knows it. But he's still Robin.

He's still Dick's Robin and Dick is not going to give the mantle away just because demon brat here throws a temper tantrum about it. But he did. Well, he didn't exactly but. He offered making Damian his robin. Tim knows logically, this would be the best plan of action given everything with them and then everything with him but he still can't help the sharp insecurity inside him.

But the brat did something surprising, given his whole rant of birthright blah blah blah. Tim wasn't really listening. He looked at Tim with such disgust and derisiveness and then looked away with a click of his tongue. Which is so uncalled for what the hell??? What the fuck did he do? The Batling even had the gall to look so offended for even offered the position he claims was always his. What the fuck.

He says he doesn't want a position already claimed by somebody else and suggested to create a new identity if he has to. Dick was quick to veto that. Thank god. The kid looks like a ten year old. A ten year old from hell, yeah but still. Even Tim was at least thirteen when he started the whole gig. It might not seem like a lot but three years is a BIG difference. Assassin training from birth or not.

The kid looked at Tim with pity and disgust that he doesn't even know why... well whatever but for some reason despite the hostility, the kid would not so subtly support him. Not that anyone else would notice if they weren't a bat, but the kid kinda grew on Tim despite his own attempts not to. And while Tim isn't Dick, he would like to think that they've grown on him too.

After returning with Bruce, a new vigilante identity, and one less spleen, Damian has finally and officially took over the Robin mantle. Despite the initial denial, he was quick to adapt into the role with a hidden child-like enthusiasm. Well. For an assassin raised kid in a role that allows him to beat up grown people in the streets every night. Thank god Dick has already given the kid numerous lectures on the "no killing" rule because Tim is so not doing that.

And no, he is not processing his little LOA escapade.

Although looking back at it, it seems a lot more suspicious with how Ra's was a lot more confident and smug. More... reckless yet defensive.

Of what exactly?

That question has been eating Tim up ever since he had a better headspace for it coming back and it has been driving him crazy. No matter what angle he mentally review everything that happened, Tim still can't for the life of him tell what exactly was Ra's hiding. No matter the connections nor channels he has gave anything away other than the fact that they've been training an heir but Tim already knew that with Damian in the picture and yet...

Something's missing...

When they found out that Red Hood was actually the deceased Jason Todd aka Robin II, Tim thought that was it. That was what was missing and try to bury it along with the annoyance, a bit of resentment, and his many broken bones as a result of that little... reunion of theirs.

Like seriously? An adult robin suit? Cringe, mr. Robin sir. Tim can't believe he idolized you. If it wasnt for the fact that Jason broke his jaw, he would've said something about how if he's gonna kill him wearing the robin suit then the least he could do is not be a coward and wear the original scaly panties. It's like as if nothing is sacred in this world anymore. Really.

After a while, Hood started working with... well not with them. But uh... adjacent might be a better term for it. Tim notices when Jason is strangely quick to startle when Damian is in the picture. It's only recently that Dick was able to convince him to switch to non lethal rubber bullets but before they had to dodge a ricochet of actual real bullets when Damian is near Jason. And the self proclaimed ex-crime lord won't even explain why he reacts to the shortstack like this. Very rude. It's like getting beaten to near death doesn't even have benefits or whatever.

It wasn't until another case that involves the reluctant team up between Cardinal, Red Hood and a likely not supposed to be here Robin, that Tim got a clue as to why. As usual, Hood somehow does not notice Robin and almost shot Tim. Again. For the fifth time this night. Jason said something about a pit demon or something fucking up something something. I'm sure this will all make sense tomorrow. But then Robin snaps back, geniunely offended. Something about how he's not a...

"A fucking what?!"

"Tt. A Lazarus Pit baby, Cardinal. Do keep up."

"Wait hold the fuck up. Hold the motherfucking fuck up. What the fuck do you mean your brother is a Lazarus Pit baby?"

At least Tim wasn't the only one getting a rug pulled under their feet tonight. A bit concerning how distressed Hood was sounding but Tim is flexible. He can handle this. Before he can ask many reasonable questions, Robin turned to glare at them. Impressive how a kid as short as him make Tim feel like he's being look down on when the brat has to crane his neck up high just to see their faces.

"Hood called me a pit demon. Which I am not."

Damn. Touchy. So he's got opinions on pit demons now. What even are pit demons? It certainly doesn't sound good. "

"Hood has trained with the League for a time, did he not? So he must have confused me for my... younger brother."

"The fuck are on about? I couldn't be more obvious that I'm talking to you."

"Wait. What brother?!"

"Robin what brother?!?!"

....

My parents made me subscribe to christianity just so I can make fic titles like these

Damian + fam POV of Child of Lazarus Danny AU

A whole ass POV and setting change can be a bit disorienting especially with a time skip mixed in but at this point we moved away from the creepy cult and into a somewhat normal outside world. Damian has a slightly better relationship with his brother here at the same time a lot more distant than canon. Damian has been able to establish himself as Robin a bit later than canon and Tim was able to decide for himself to hand over the mantle and step out of the Robin training wheels. Didn't like the Red Robin name sorry its just as if Tim wasnt ready to part with robin just yet and hadn't had the time to find himself before making Red Robin. A bit of a fan of the Cardinal name for my boy which is also red.

Funny how Dami subconsiously called Danny a pit demon all these years when all his other brothers subconsiously called him that too. He's so offended its hilarious lmaoo

Also funny how Tim thinks about his relationship with Jason. For me I think Tim won't sink back in fear Jason cuz in the comics man Tim has been roasting the dude any chance gets like Jason hasn't been roasted enough. Love my cringefail asshole Jason. Would've love to punch him in the face.

This was supposed to have Jason and Bruce's POV too but it was getting too long. so. Yeah.

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Them Tags:

Btw y'all should probably just follow the Child of Lazarus!Danny tag

@emergentpanda-blog @skulld3mort-1fan @rosecinnamonbun @ver-444 @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @dannyphantomphan @yasminerd00 @blep-23 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @vythika96 @terzatheunderscorerima @ballzfrog-blog @readerzj @overtherose @undead-essence @justwannabecat @fisticuffsatapplebees @satoshy12 @thegatorsgoose @meira-3919 @mynameisnotlaura @gmkelz11 @chrysanthemum9484 @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @rasalghul777 @writers-extraordinaire @u-a-wizard-jamie

[westside-rot]

Kill For You

Authors note: This was intended to be my first drabble but my brain wouldn't let me stop and here we are with all these words. I'll get it right and stop rambling eventually lmao

Also, I'm dipping my toe into fanfics, having fun with ideas and seeing what sticks so please be nice. It's never that serious. This has light editing so excuse any errors.

Minors dni. I do not consent to my work being copied/reposted anywhere. Stealing is lame so don't do it. Reblogs and comments are always welcome after you hit like lol

Protective husband Toji

Mentions of violence and smut *sorry not sorry*

Choosing an outfit is never easy for you. Most days it’s more like a chore and less like a first step in having fun. The way Toji’s eyes tear away from the video game he’s playing to shamelessly appraise your body is confirmation you made the right choice. Going out tonight was a last-minute decision. With limited time to get ready you opted for a backless navy-blue halter dress that showed off plenty leg without having to worry about your ass being exposed. A modest selection for the club. There’s nothing modest about the way Toji admires your curvy frame.

You pretend not to notice as you drop your phone into your purse and inform him of your plans for the evening.

“I’ll see you in a few hours. Enjoy your game. I love you.” It’s foolish to think you’d get away with a rushed explanation and a quick kiss goodbye. When Toji’s large hand catches you by the wrist you aren’t the least bit surprised to have your departure interrupted. You huff and scrunch up your nose to hide your amusement. The charade ends the moment you lock eyes. With a smirk on your face you melt into his broad defined chest and the kiss accompanying his possessive hold on your waist.

“Now let’s try this again Mrs. Fushiguro. Where do you think you’re going in this dress?”

You can’t answer right away as your husband leads you into one kiss and then another. Soon you’re in a full-blown make-out session. When he does finally let you up for air it’s a miracle you can speak. An even bigger one that your panties haven’t melted right off your ass. You explain how one of your girls is going through a bad breakup and you and the rest of the friend group have decided to get her out of the house for a night of drinks and dancing. Toji hums in what you assume to be understanding. The way his lips ghost over the creamy brown skin of your collarbone, tongue dipping between your boobs says otherwise.

“You look gorgeous my love. Maybe you should change. I don’t think I want you wearing this dress without me around.”

“Baby, I can’t. The girls will be here in five minutes. Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve felt pretty in a dress.”

He knows you’re being genuine just like he knows you don’t fault him for the long work hours and long overdue date nights. Giving you his blessing is the first step in making amends. Even though he raises you to your feet and readjusts the bottom of your dress back into place you can see the conflict happening behind his dark green eyes.

“I promise to be good.” You pout and run your fingers over the clipped black hair hanging over his forehead. He growls and pulls you closer.

“Keep your phone on. Should any man dare speak to you let them know disrespect is a crime punishable by death. Your husband is the executioner.”

“Yes sir.” You purr against his lips and erupt into a fit of giggles when he sends you on your way with a firm smack to the ass that stays with you long after you join your friends in the rideshare. It requires some convincing not to fake an illness to stay at home with your husband. Nurturing your friendships is important to you. The last thing you want is to become the friend who forsakes all others for her man. A night away from him will do you both some good. And so you turn your thoughts away from him and focus on the night ahead.

Hours later you’re regretting your decision. It’s not that you haven’t enjoyed yourself. After spending weeks going from work to home you loved every second of existing in your own bubble with your girls. The music had been on point and the drinks were nice and strong. That seemed like a good thing in the moment. By 1am you remember why you could only handle the club in small doses. The men had officially lost any sense of decency. While you understood wanting to end the night in good company, you were tired of having to relay Toji’s message to every man occupying your personal space. The massive ring on your finger should’ve been effective fuck boy repellent. Yet here you were on your fourth insincere apology. To their credit, they eventually cut their losses and backed away. There was always one that refused to take no for an answer. This particular jerk refuses to accept your no, going as

Deciding you’ve reached your fill on corny pick up lines, you and your girl decide to wait for the rest of your group outside. You've dealt with your fair share of thirsty men, none crazy enough to get physical and call you an uppity bitch for dismissing him. Pulling away only gives him reason to tighten his grip on your arm. Before you or your friend can respond with a swift kick to the balls a strong pair of hands pull the man off his feet and cast him aside like a rag doll. Your eyes practically fall out of your head when you realize it’s Toji. He’s too busy making good on his word to acknowledge your shock. While the dumb ass puts up an impressive defense he’s easily overpowered and pummeled to the ground. Every punch he throws is reciprocated with two more that land directly in his face until he's unrecognizable. Toji shows no sign of stopping. Even though you'd bet money you weren't the first woman this piece of shit has put his hands on, he isn't worth a prison sentence.

It's your voice pulling Toji back to his senses. One more punch and a kick to the ribs and he's snatching the man up by his collar to hold the man's bloody face in your direction.

“Apologize for putting your filthy hands on my wife. I’m only sparing you because she asked.

He complies and stammers out an apology through the stream of blood running down his nose into his mouth. You’re disgusted by how little you care about the beating he’s taken. Unlike the idiot before you, no one is going to force you to apologize for noticing how well your husband is filling out his thermal. In the hours since you last saw him his corded muscles appear larger and more defined underneath the black fabric. It looks painted on. The color has always been your kryptonite. Toji is wrapped in it, from his jeans down to his work boots. It’s the black beanie tugged down over his ears that turns you feral.

Toji’s voice cuts through your thoughts with a clear directive you can’t ignore. “Let’s go. All of you. NOW.” He leads you out of the club with your gaped mouth friends trailing closely behind, the crowd parting like water to let you pass. Some women gawk, one gave you a thumbs up, while other voices agreed with Toji’s methods. You have the urge to remind everyone he's your husband but decide against it.

Once in the car Toji instructs you to put everyone’s addresses into the GPS. After that the ride is tense and mostly silent. In the group chat your friends are remain crazy and undeterred as they unanimously decide Toji’s deserves immaculate head on everyone’s behalf.

You bite down a laugh then respond in chat, assuring them you will but you can't pinpoint Toji’s mood. He seems upset with you. Despite being grateful for his presence you’re somewhat annoyed with him for infiltrating your girl’s night out. Exactly how long had he been spying? Why hadn’t you noticed him before? Was he being protective, or did he not really trust you?

It pisses you off that while you’re stewing in emotions you shouldn’t feel Toji is being the perfect gentleman, not only driving your friend’s home but escorting them to the door to ensure they make it inside safely. Upon arriving home you decide you're going to sleep off your frustrations and be a responsible adult tomorrow.

Toji has other plans. Resisting your inner brat, you allow his firm yet pleading tone to keep you in your seat with arms folded across your chest.

“I’m sorry for not getting to you sooner baby. I was trying to be respectful to the hoe asking me dance and got distracted.”

The way your jaw clenches at the mention of the faceless woman proves Toji isn’t alone in his unhinged behavior. In your defense your patience runs a bit longer than his. You certainly haven’t beaten any women to a pulp for getting close. No woman had dared to touch what belonged to you either.

“Sure.”

“I got this bad feeling after you left that I couldn’t shake. Maybe it was nothing. But I rather have you upset with me than ignore my gut and something happens. You’re my entire world. I can't exist without you.”

Suddenly you’re climbing into your wonderful man’s lap to shower him with appreciation one kiss at a time across his beautiful face. You’re a brat that needs to correct her attitude. To further drive home the point you drag your tongue over his scar then back down to his chin, bearing your teeth and latching on. Toji’s lips curve into a vulgar smile but otherwise appears unfazed.

“How do you intend to make it up to me brat?”

His dick, hard and restricted against the crotch of your panties sends a message to put action to words. You comply with eager hands fumbling with his belt as you lean back on the steering wheel. “By letting you use me. You can start by fucking me right here in the driveway.”

He groans as though he’s already inside of you. What you mistake for passion on the verge of release is restraint to keep both hands firmly at your waist. He refuses to touch the intimate parts of you with soiled hands. Another reason to despise the piece of shit from earlier. But you’re too horny to argue. You practically race up the driveway, fumbling with keys to unlock the front door. The kitchen to wash your hands or a shower. You can’t decide. Toji makes the decision for you.

“Take off your panties.” Pulling them down your shapely legs, you toe the lace off to the side along with your heels. You abruptly clamp on the taunt you’ve prepared when you see him kneel before you, presenting his shoulders as a thrown he wishes you to occupy. Always mindful of safety you drape one leg across him and keep the other on the ground for leverage until he demands your trust. You comply. Your husband is a strong man. You’re reminded how much when he straightens his back, hoisting you off the ground, trapping you between the door at your back and the tongue in your pussy.

You close your eyes and surrender to weightlessness, tugging at his hair and mewling your pleasure, vocal but not too loud. You want to hear him lewdly slurp at his meal, burying his face in it like he’s eager to drown and die a satisfied man. His tongue is just as big as the rest of him. You love the way he alternates between the wavelike motions against your clit to stuffing your needy walls. It doesn’t take long to come like this. You whimper his name on its arrival, shudder then relax on his shoulders with your feet set firmly at the center of his back. When he finally sets you on the ground with a suckling kiss to each thigh you follow him on shaky legs into the kitchen.

The energy shifts from two wantons chasing pleasure to comedic and downright absurd. Toji has you pinned in front of him at the sink, his burly figure towering over you in playful competition for his share of the running water all while he struggles to penetrate you handsfree. You wish you could see how silly he looks with his jeans below his ass grinding near your entrance like some inexperienced teenager. The failed attempts have given your abs the workout you haven’t asked for. You’re the drunk one. Toji has no excuse for his antics but you’re honored he trusts you with this silly version of himself, a side the world doesn’t know exists.

"Spread your legs a little wider—push your ass up."

"Give up please." Laughter splutters from you when he notches the head between your folds, almost but not quite. The way he dips and rolls his hips as if he's sure it'll get him where he needs to be put tears in your eyes. "You’re trying to kill me." Resting your head on the counter, you give up attempting to wash your hands to fully commit to laughing. Toji joins in while taking full advantage of the water.

"Not at all gorgeous. I’m trying to fuck you." He doesn’t bother to dry off his now thoroughly washed hands as guides himself to your entrance. He reaches his target on the first try. Neither of you is laughing anymore.

The first thrust is always the sweetest. Especially when you’ve gone deprived for so long.

"There ya go. Shut that pretty fuckin mouth and let me inside." He kicks your legs apart to widen your stance and ruts into your ass. You nearly submerge your head under the water from the impact but recover quickly, stretching your soapy fingertips into the water instead and deepening the arch in your back. It gives him a full display of your ass bouncing off his pelvis and aligns him with just the right spot. He drills you for several heavenly minutes then fucks you into a standing split. Somehow you manage to cut off the water and just in time because he's snatched you off your feet, locking your knees over his elbows to fuck you midair.

There's nothing gentle about the way he fucks you. He fucks you like he's upset, like he's secretly harboring a grudge he doesn't want to speak on. You love it but feel as though you owe him another apology.

Toji isn’t giving you the chance to speak. Even as he walks you into the living room, he’s slamming you down on his dick, knocking the words right out of you. He’s relentless even in the way he places you back on your feet and jerks you around by the hair to segue right back to hard thrusts in one disorienting motion.

"I’m sorry. I’ll burn the dress—Don’t be mad." You wail over the sound of his balls colliding with your ass and frantically attempt to leverage yourself on the couch. He’s quick to restrain both arms behind your back, locking them at the elbow in a one-armed restraint. His free hand snakes your throat. There’s nowhere to run even if you want to. You don’t. He slams into you numerous times before his brain processes what you managed to say.

"What? No baby--just need to feel you and remind myself you’re mine... beautiful and all fucking mine."

"All yours. Only fucking yours." You echo the words. It earns you more sharp thrusts in powerful succession, the intensity forcing you on to the tips of your toes. You chant the words through your delirium and yield as he cranes you backwards by a makeshift ponytail to roughly kiss his way into your mouth. Not the most comfortable position but you love being treated like his personal doll. It doesn’t matter that you watched him mark his territory in the most violent way possible or how ridiculous it might seem to need the reassurance. He's a man, your man, the person you vowed to spend your life with. If he needs his ego stroked, you'll gladly stroke it. Perhaps not in the way he’s stroking your insides but close enough for him to feel cherished and irreplaceable. He deserves it after giving you some of the best orgasms of your life.

All you can do is scream your praise when the third one hits. Every nerve ending in your body feels like tiny focal point detonating at once. The pleasure overtakes you, seizing control of your limbs and coherence. You topple over the couch’s armrest to sob face first in the cushions below. Tremors ripple through your fingers down to your toes now arched and pointed at the ceiling. You fear any sudden movement will remove you from this new blissed out existence. So you don’t. You remain in your wilted position, crying and fully possessed by endless quaking yet aware enough to sense Toji kneeling at eye level. Warm hands caress your face, coaxing a gratified drunken smile to confirm you hadn’t passed out.

"Did I break you?"

“Uh-uh.”

His thumb catches your bottom lip and pries your mouth open. "I’m putting you to bed."

Instantly you muster the strength to speak. "Nooo. Just gimme a minute."

His laughter soothes your rapid pulse and puts breath back into your lungs. You think you won’t need the minute you requested. Not anymore. You only need him to find his way back home. Toji ignores your pleas with soothing kisses to your nose and lips. He guides you out of the awkward position you landed in and carries you to your bedroom.

It's a welcome change to be returned to your plush bed with your husband looming over you, gaze imbued with love you'll never get tired of seeing, removing the dress still gathered at your waist as though you'll break if he handles you poorly. He removes what remains of his attire and rejoins you on the bed. Finally you’re both gloriously naked. You pull him down on top of you, hard lines melding with soft russet contours and entangled limbs sharing a single heartbeat.

He fucks into you slow, takes his time delving to where your soul resides, whispering his devotion against your damp skin. When you reach orgasm for the last time he isn’t far behind you, filling you with his cum, marking you as his. It isn’t until he pulls out, when the urge to watch his cum leak from your spent body is too great to ignore do you realize how turned on you were watching him defend your honor. It’s toxic to wish for such things but it’s a subject you refuse to drop until you’ve talked it out with your husband. Toji will have to be the one to put a stop to your fantasy, that or replace it with something different, something better. Until then you drift back to the present, shut your eyes, and plan out your next outfit.

[pwippy]

hi. hello. did you think my frame by frame analysis of round 6 would ever stop? it isnt it never will i keep noticing things and it might be unhealthy

somehow i tuned out tills expressions during the kiss scene ! guess we're going for those (this is an unnecessarily long undetailed yapping session so. mega warning)

shock to realization when hes being pulled in

more realization and confusion! actually a lot of these scenes include his pupils getting smaller. having a lot of revelations. emotions etc

fun game: tell the difference. thats right its the eyebrows! and eyebags. concern has set in and the fight or flight response which is technically good because it means he wants to live

his expression doesnt shift for a few frames but the main thing is (as previously mentioned) that he has a will to live again. he has light in his eyes. yeah hes confused and for the next few frames its the same expression but from different angles. a little ragdolly but also ivan has much more physical strength

right before he pushes away from ivan his focus actually shifts to him. when ivan first came over its more like till was staring into the unknown but now hes lucid and focusing on whats happening

also! a little fear? not sure its only like 3 frames

force

i dont think thats a tear since they have a specific texture. desperately hoping for his pov of round 6 at some point 🙏 wont say too much abt this but its really interesting! and really sad to see because of his blatant distress

that one line . argh. thats anger! the furrowed brows !

anger goes away in 2 frames. owh these frames. are so painful. ivan pulls back and just. looks at till. theyre looking at each other. to some extent THERE IS UNDERSTANDING. but its fleeting. (alsocan we talk about ivan trailing his finger over tills lips ohmygod. topography map which ivan has memorized literally on his hand. ow. divets.)

sighs sadly. this is when actual concern sets in for till and i. oh. only comment ill make is that compared to the kissing scene he is significantly more stressed based on the wrinkles and the situation in general. the kiss was more like that blurry line of consciousness when you wake up.

hes looking at ivan 🤗 (losing my mind)

i dont think you understand my hatred of this ! hes straight back into "oh im destined to die" mode! his face was relaxing !!!!

sobs in ivan tried to keep his hands stable so till wouldnt get jostled WHILE IVANS LITERALLY DYING

doubts maybe?? i dont think ivan was trying to strangle him like even if you give in to what you think is "fate" physically your body will retaliate against death or stress. hes not hacking or coughing or anything he is genuinely staring into the void. probably feeling guilty so

i wouldnt say hes confused here. at least not yet. its more of an "oh." expression. an emotional thud

he whipped his head down to look at ivan really quick!! anyways i imagine hes surprised he didnt die on stage. surprised he was let go (when usually hes doing the letting go ahahaha). he doesnt take his eyes off ivan the whole time ivans falling :')

also confusion. all confusion

i sure wish i could see his eyebrows to properly analyze him but I GUESS NOT. for at least half of the round till was mourning his own death (and mizis presumed death ig). he knew it would be quick. he didnt know ivan would step in and kiss him which just brings up a ton of "why nows" and "why mes" but also that he might be strangled. slowly. to death. then that doesnt go through either and now hes left to mourn his childhood companion

anyways thought this was interesting to pull out since till has a lot of subtle differences in his expressions but they mean EVERYTHING. its also an odd contrast to ivan who (at least until the end) stays nonchalant. he eyes barely shift and when he gets shot his flinching is there for literal milliseconds. both went into round 6 believing they would die and they both technically forfeited (with till not singing anymore). till *technically* went first. aha guess what ivans going to pull an aggressive move. that you couldnt have expected because honestly a) who could have expected that and b) till didnt go out of his way to pay attention to ivan. he took the interactions and moved on. he had a lower understanding compared to ivan who constantly analyzed till

[lighthouseshepard]

I know you just had top surgery - how was it? How was the healing process? I’m scared to death of surgery but I desperately need these off

HI NYX!!! ok im gonna try and be as brief and concise as possible because theres honestly quite a lot i could talk about but! heres some thoughts under the cut

so honestly as someone who has had a few surgeries in the past for other medical issues - this ranked VERY low on the pain scale. maybe a 4/10 tops at its worst (although i do understand everyone is different). the surgeon kept telling me "many people do not find this operation particularly painful" and i did not believe him one bit until afterwards. i had prescription pain medicne and antibiotics to take, but honestly i only needed the prescription medicine for about 3 days, and then after that i was fine with tylenol. after a week really i didnt need to take anything consistently, it was here or there if i happened to start moving around too much.

the worst part for me overall was the BANDAGES. after you wake up youre gonna be wrapped within an inch if your life with ike 2 inches of gauze and tape and an ace wrap holding it all together. if you have drains (which i did) you can't shower until they're out and the bandages come off, anywhere from 5 to 7 days usually. mine was 7 days and i was miserable. the drain emptying wasnt that bad tbh, someone helped me the first 2 times and then i was able to do it myself afterwards. if youre bad with blood or bodily fluids then youll def need someone to help you there. the drain removal process, to be completely honest, was. also bad. it lasted maybe five seconds per drain but i didnt breathe right like they told me to and had a vasovagal reaction and passed out. i dont say this to dissuade you! but it was not pleasant

the main thing probably is gonna be stiffness and soreness. you literally won't be able to do anything with your arms for at least a few days - its bordering on 2 weeks for me and im just now able to pull a shirt over my head without stiffness. you DEFINITELY will need someone to help you with basic tasks those first few days, getting food, getting dressed, etc. some ppl get bruising on their chest just from the skin being manipulated and etc but surprisingly i havent had any bruising yet?

also!! again some places differ, but mine was a same day surgery. after a few hours of waking up i was able to be bundled into the car back to the hotel. youre gonna be really groggy but i was able to walk just fine, albeit very slowly with help. the surgery itself was the blink of an eye to me. i remember them putting an o2 mask over my face and then i was OUT. seconds later i was being dragged up out of unconscious well by the nurse's voice.

ill say too, i 100% understand the nervousness and fear. the 2 weeks leading up to the surgery were like. awful andnsnjf. i was so anxious and terrified of the pain only to find it genuinely was not that bad at all. you know the this too shall pass lighter i have. i slept with that clutched in my hand the entire night before surgery. it was very much a "do it scared" situation and having those things of comfort and reassurance whatever they are to you can help immensely. and i did do it! and the relief i felt a week after when i finally got to see made literally all of it worth it. theres still healing to go (i took a month off work also) but im taking it very slowly and trying not to rush enjoyment of this body c: most of the healing process has been letting the body do its natural work and being patient with it, a thing i am usually not. i still have to dress the area for another 2 weeks maybe, but then i can start scar care!!!

[iconsumedmygoldfish]

I. AM. WRECKED.

DRDT CCHAPTER 2 EXECUTION SPOILERS AND MORE

just watched drdt chapter 2 episode 16. you know what that means!! time for a rant!!

LEVI TAKING BULLETS FOR TERUKO??? I WAS SO SURE IT WAS GONNA BE ACE THAT DID IT AND HE CAME OUT OF NOWHERE

HE'S MY FAVOURITE I AM ACTUALLY SO WRECKED

also may make a seperate post about this but whit is WAY too chill. this is the first time we've seen him lose his cool briefly, and it's when they're locked in. i think he could have some form of claustrophobia.

ace's execution was so fucking cruel. in the end, he got himself killed because he was so scared. it was anticlimactic, it was immediately overshadowed by someone else, nobody really mourned him at ALL. ace didn't get a buildup, and he died knowing that the one person he considered a friend could die the longer he lived on. that is FOULLLLL.

also. ace said that he'd have a third murder on his hands. arei, levi and.... who?

veronika was so annoying this chapter. im sorry but she actually got on my nerves so much. girl. shut up im trying to watch my doomed yaoi

i still don't trust eden

hu jing kinda average, j kinda average, nico kinda average

david not much screentime, but he seemed shocked when monotv was actually unconscious at first. maybe he genuinely believed that couldn't happen? does he have a reason to think so?

im not sure whats up with arturo, smth to do with his sister, not being able to save someone? i actually missed most of the arturo lore and i dont care enough about him to look back

sucks to be charles right now, but i was more confused as to how whit was more concerned about CHARLES than the classmate(s) in front of them literally about to DIE. i know the fandom loves whit but he is giving me so many red flags i have to say it. ill make a post on him soon. i DO NOT TRUST WHIT YOUNG.

eden kinda mid rn but i just don't like her so im biased..

it was very interesting to see teruko's self-blame this chapter and her beliefs coming out more to the viewer. her talk with monotv was so interesting. so monotv really is just a robot - but why was it so sinister in that one scene very early on in drdt? yk red face smile face. we haven't seen that come up again, and monotv hasn't shown many more examples of sinister behaviour. i wonder if that was an example of monotv being controlled maybe??

im wondering if ace helped to kill mai? she could be the third death? i saw someone say that the game could be punishment for them all for what they did to/their connection to mai, and i think that's an amazing idea

also another part on levi. he's trying his best to understand ace, so much, and yet he just can't. i was very intrigued to see how frustrated he was (ha. divorce arc.) but also the fact that he put teruko's life before his own despite having more difficulty than the others is just. wow. like, anyone else in that room had the opportunity to save her, in the same way, but it was LEVI that stepped forward. and for teruko of all people.

i may have to make seperate posts i just wanted to get this out quickly while the episode is still fresh!!! ^^ sorry if missed anything!!!

[emptymasks]

so there's an interview with david jenkins up on gizmodo about izzy's death and i have feelings. again.

the interviewer is a big fan of izzy. and jenkins is upset that they are upset about izzy's death. i know he probably doesn't want to make people really upset with izzy's death. but how could he not have known how beloved izzy was. perhaps he didn't realise how many more people would come to love him over this season.

trying to console the interviewer by saying "ghosts exist in this world" since when? buttons turning into a bird might not even be canon, it's left as this maybe, so don't make up and give false hope that he could come back as a ghost. that feels cruel. i know he's trying to make the interviewer feel better but man. don't make promises you can't keep.

of course he took it hard.

izzy didn't get much time to belong though. i love that speech he gave. but for him to get punished for it. to kill of the character with the most growth because it doesn't matter because he's not as important as ed. izzy deserved better than to a plot device for ed to grow.

'to see their friend go' uh.. i don't think we got to the point where stede and izzy were friends yet. sadly. because he died too soon for that to happen. i think being buried near them, and without his ring that they took of his corpse, is selfish on ed's part.

i don't know how this is kind. i don't know how you can describe this as kind.

i... am almost laughing since i feel so delirious reading that. you wanted to avoid killing your gays by.. killing one of your gays. right. an.. upbeat note.. i.. how.. did you really think no one liked izzy that much? maybe he didn't expect so many new izzy hands during season 2 but...

again the interviewer gets upset about izzy's death. jenkins tries to console and comfort them but couldn't. i can't believe he didn't see this coming. i'm sorry he's sad too. though surely he wanted people to be sad? to feel sad about izzy's death? maybe he didn't think anyone would take it this hard. but i'm sure con could have told them different given the stories i know people have told him about how much izzy means to them. i think it's wrong to call the show homophobic, i think the show is still a great piece of lgbt+ representation. and i also think the ending was rushed and izzy's death wasn't fair (and not enough people accept that ed abused him and was his abuser and no one should have to give their abuser closure) but i think if he had to die it could have been defending the crew, and not being stupid enough to let ricky have a gun, because that didn't feel very in character. i just. i'm with the interviewer. i'm not mad at jenkins i'm just disappointed and upset. and i know he didn't mean any of this maliciously, and yes i know it's all fictional, but people are still allowed to complain and be hurt. no matter how stupid you think that might seem. there's no need to get angry at people who are upset about izzy's death. these are just my thoughts and feelings and there's no ill will too anyone who disagrees with me.

i'm sad at you.