#also i’m so sorry to anyone who sent in asks i just realised i have literally 400+ of them

[suiheisen]

Hi I saw your photos in the Japan community and I would love to get some photos of the pride stuff in Kyoto. Can you share where it is?

yes of course!! i hope they’re still up and you can catch them in time. that was along the main shopping street in kyoto so if you’re headed to nishiki/gion etc you’ll probably hit that shopping arcade. just look for hands/daimaru. daimaru has a rainbow light up after sunset for pride month so if you go at night you can get photos of that

[grandline-fics]

Hi, Hi, Thank you for answering! Since you said you accepted multiples characters i may ask for Ace, Zoro, Shanks if possible Marco with a s/o who during their relationship never show any signs of jealousy nor even possessiveness, very laidback. Yet one day/night, the boys just witnessed their s/o jealousy for the first time. And if possible the s/o’s jealousy is mostly staying deadly quiet with a disappointed gaze, but not cold treatment though. Or something like that? Thank you, thank you, I hope I did not asked characters you aren’t comfortable with :(

DESCRIPTION: They finally see you jealous

WARNINGS: some slight angst but it all ends happily for everyone

CHARACTERS: Ace, Shanks, Marco

WORDS: 2,453

A/N: Thank you for this request! I hope each scenario was different enough for you and that you're happy with the result for this ask

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

ACE

If Ace were to find a partner, he couldn’t get anyone better than you. You were his closest friend before you both became aware of your deep romantic feelings for the other and both confessed, allowing things to effortlessly progress into a romantic relationship. With you Ace knows he is safe and free to be himself, just as you can be yourself without judgement. Because you were both friends before becoming a couple, you both are content to spend time together while also being apart. You both can spend an evening in a bar with the other Whitebeard Pirates and hardly say a word to each other until its time for you both to return to the ship. Because of the fact neither of you cling to the other for the entirety of the night, it can lead to some misconceptions about the relationship you both have to an outsider.

One evening you returned to the Moby Dick after being sent out on a solo mission by Pops. As usual the deck was lively and filled with laughter and chatter. You noticed some new faces to the crew, making a note to properly introduce yourself to the new recruits after you spoke to Pops. On your approach you slowed to see one recruit standing very close to Ace, who merely smiled at them with his usual friendly smile. While he couldn’t see the lust in his admirer’s eyes you could see it clearly. “So you’re my commander? I’m so lucky to be under someone as handsome as you.” She smirked and Ace laughed, while you rolled your eyes, continuing to walk forward. 

Marco spotted your approach first and called out your name in greeting. Immediately Ace looked over excitedly only for his smile to drop when he spotted the look in your gaze. Normally you were as excited as he was when you were reunited but now you seemed almost disappointed. Worry flipped in his stomach and he reached out towards you but instinctively you pulled your arm away and continued to walk. “I have to talk to Pops first. I’ll catch up with you after.”

“Looks like someone’s in the doghouse.” Izou teased when he knew you were out of earshot. 

“Can you blame them? They go for a couple weeks and come back to Ace flirting with another person.” Marco chimed in with a feigned look of disapproval while Ace became panicked and looked between his fellow Division Commanders. Did you really think that? Was he really in trouble? Worse still, was his relationship with you at risk because he hadn’t realised one of the recruits was flirting with him again?

Acting on impulse he immediately raced up the deck and slid to a halt beside you, hooking an arm around your waist and hauling you off of your feet. “Sorry, Pops! Emergency!” he called out over your shouts, ignoring them and the whooping cheers as he carried you below deck to your shared room to speak in private. When you were set on your feet you lightly shoved Ace. “What the hell did you do that for?” You demanded only to blink in surprise when Ace threw himself onto his knees and wrapped his arms around your waist, staring up at you in desperation. “Please don’t end things with me! I promise you’re the only one I want, I’d never throw what we have away. I swear I didn’t flirt back. I’d never-” 

“I know Ace.” You stopped his rambling with a small smile and lightly setting your hand on his cheek. “You never realise when anyone flirts with you. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen someone throw themselves at you.”

“But that look on your face…and Izou and Marco said I was in the doghouse…”

“Yeah I don’t like seeing someone flirt with you but I know you’re loyal to me.” You shrugged. “As for those two, they’re just bored. I wasn’t going to get mad at you for not realising someone wanted to get with you. I trust you Ace.”

“If you were mad at me though…”

“I’d tell you.” You promised before pinching his cheek and scowling. “For example, I’m not happy you dragged me away while I was in the middle of talking to Pops. But I’ll forgive you just this once because of how worried you were.” You smiled to see the relief in Ace’s eyes and suddenly became aware of the strain in your neck. “Now would you please get up and welcome me home properly?” With a grin, Ace adjusted his hold on you and quickly pulled you down to instead settle on his lap so he could lovingly pepper your face with kissed before finally kissing you with all the love he could convey. Despite you promising you were fine he needed to show that you were the only one he ever wanted this way. 

SHANKS

“Oh Captain’s got his hands full again….or rather hand full.” You glanced across the bar as you entered the building to see what Lucky had been talking about and your sights zeroed in on the swarm of women around your Captain. Any that hadn’t been able to grab a chair at the table, stood excitedly close all of them listening to the current tale of adventure the crew had been on. Everyone in the crew, including yourself were used to this occurrence. Of course they’d be drawn to the handsome Captain with the roguish smile. You’d been drawn to it and fallen for his charm so you couldn’t exactly blame anyone else for it too. 

Despite that you still couldn’t help the foreign, uncomfortable feeling stirring in you at the sight. Up until a few months ago, you would have joined in with the rest of the crew, teasing your popular Captain but since then you’d fallen for him and started a relationship with Shanks which some of the crew still weren’t completely aware of. Jealousy wasn’t something you’d ever really felt before seeing as your previous relationship were flings at best and you and your partner knew as much. What you had with Shanks however felt different and because of the fact neither of you had made it public or put a label on what was going on between you both, it made the feeling even more uneasy at the sight in front of you. 

You walked with Lucky Roux to Shanks’ table just as he finished his story. At your approach Shanks’ eyes lit up and he grinned at you from behind his mug. “You two have some catching up to do.” He joked, while Lucky grinned and reached for the filled mug of ale offered to him, you nodded slightly and took your own with less enthusiasm as you normally would. Immediately Shanks’ suspicions were heightened, while his carefree smile remained the look in his eyes sharpened as he observed you drink steadily. A couple of the newer members of the crew rose from their seats to let you and Lucky sit at Shanks’ table out of respect to you both. Lucky took his seat without hesitation whereas you smiled and shook your head gently. Instead you drained your mug and turned to go to the bar for a refill. Shanks’ eyebrow quirked slightly and his fingers drummed against his mug while he watched you in concern. “Were there any issues Lucky?”

“Not a one, Cap’n. Ship got restocked without problem and the locals reported no trouble since our last visit here. Everyone’s happy.” Lucky reported with his usual smile before returning to his own conversation with Hongo. Shanks glanced at you from across the room again, watching as even with your new drink, you remained by the bar, sipping it slowly and staring at nothing. Shanks finished off his drink and moved to stand only for one of the women fawning over him put a hand on his shoulder, insisting they’d go and get the drink for him only for the others to pipe up too, leading them to bicker over who would get him a refill. “No, no, I’ll go myself, it’s fine. You all stay and Ben here will tell you of my best battle, won’t you Ben?”

At the promise of another story, Shanks was able to get away from the table without being followed by his admirers and he let out a sigh when he was out from the crowded presences and now standing beside you, fully noticing the difference he felt in the comparison of the two feelings. While he waited for the bartender to see to him, he glanced at you and saw your far-off look. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m staying close to the alcohol so I can catch up like you ordered me to Captain.” Your answer was even and detached, your gaze remaining on nothing in particular on the opposite wall. 

“You’ve got me worried, love.” At that pet-name you finally looked at Shanks. Unable to help yourself you glanced behind him to the table filled with people still waiting for him to return before returning your stare to his face. 

“It wasn’t my intention to worry you or ruin your fun. I was keeping my distance specifically to avoid that.” You explained and Shanks finally realised what the problem was. You were jealous, over them? People who paled in comparison to you in every way. 

“My fun’s only ruined if you’re not with me.” Shanks murmured closing the small space between you both. He saw the hesitancy in your eyes and he gave you a reassuring smile before securing his arm around your waist and kissing you deeply, the action dispelling the unease you’d been feeling instantly. Over the sound of the crew whistling and shouts of others to pay up because of a bet neither you or Shanks were aware of you broke apart from the kiss and smile when he lay his head against yours. “Should’ve done this a long time ago when I finally got you.” 

MARCO

You knew what you were getting into when you and Marco gave into your attraction for each other. You knew that his time would be taken up mostly with caring for Pops on a daily basis and the other members of the crew when they were sick or injured. Any free time he would have was precious and you were never possessive of that. When he was able to spend time with you he did and your patience was alway appreciated from him. Sometimes when he’s overloaded with work you stop by to offer him some food and sit in his office for an hour or so, just to enjoy each other’s presence. You don’t need to talk, just being there is enough for you both. 

On this occasion you hadn’t seen Marco because of a nasty flu making its way through some of the crew and after a few days without seeing his face, you’d grown to miss him. So you made your way to the medical office and your step faltered when you heard the familiar sound of his laughter coming from inside. Lightly you knocked on the door once and entered the room to see one of the nurses standing beside Marco as he sat at his desk. You smiled warmly when Marco seemed happy to see you but your smile fell when you spotted the empty plate on his desk. “Ah, you’ve already eaten.”

“Of course he has.” The nurse giggled, smiling at Marco playfully. “Though he would have forgotten if it wasn’t for me. As amazing as he is as a Doctor, he’s hopeless at looking after himself.”

“He’s lucky you’re here to look after for him then.” You said, unable to sound as cheerful as the nurse. Clearing your throat you looked down at the small plate of food you’d brought for your boyfriend. You knew nothing was going on between him or any of the nurses that worked closely alongside him but you still felt the jealousy growing in your chest. This was a small thing you could do for Marco and you felt childish for feeling stung that he didn’t need you. You didn’t like the feeling and needed to distance yourself from the cause. “I’m glad you’ve eaten so I’ll let you get back to your work. Don’t let him overwork himself, okay?” You forced the joke out with a tight smile while the nurse smiled brightly and nodded in joy that you were trusting her. Marco watched silently as you turned and left him. Even with his tiredness, he could still see something was wrong with you. 

As soon as he completed the current task on his desk, Marco stood and stretched. After working without resting for these days, he knew no-one would begrudge him a break away from his office. Stretching out he walked through the corridors until he was walking into the room he shared with you. You looked up in surprise from your lounged spot on the sofa. Before you could react, Marco was crawling onto the sofa and laying ontop of you, his head resting against your chest as his arms encircled you, holding you close. “Marco, what are you-”

“You left far too quickly.” Marco groaned out, now that he was lying down he realised just how uncomfortable sitting at his desk was. “I missed you, sorry I was cooped up in my office all this time.”

“You’re don’t need to apologise for that Marco.”

“I feel like I do need to say sorry for something though.” he admitted, lifting his head slightly to look at you with concern. “You didn’t seem yourself when you stopped by.”

“It’s not you, it’s me.” You promised, gently running your fingers through his hair. Under his patient stare you sighed and continued. “I’m not a doctor like you or trained in anything medical. For the most part I’m fine with that because I’m good in other ways but it’s just when you are overworking yourself there’s not much I can do to help you. One of those things is taking care of you and making sure you’re eating. It’s silly but it made me jealous to see someone else doing that for you.”

“It’s not silly at all. We can’t help our emotions but I’m glad you were able to talk to me about it.” Marco smiled, taking your hand to press a loving kiss against your wrist. “Never feel like you’re replaceable. I’m only ever able to rest like this because of your influence over me. No one looks after me the way you can and you’re the only one I want.”

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf

[avocado-writing]

Hi dear! I would like to appreciate your works. I really enjoy everything you wrote, Wish you have a great day! 💗

Since you're taking requests, could you please write Wade with a polite, sweet and delicate partners. He's with a person who's the definition of "Too pure for this world and MUST be PROTECTED at all cost" His partner showers him with love and validation, and always love to listen to him! Thanks! 💓

possibly based on real life events.

Wade Wilson is so in love, it must be sickening to everyone around him. 

In fact he knows it is and he does not care. He’ll say “look at this meme the love of my life sent me!” and the person who he shows will roll their eyes, as if you don’t have incredible taste in cat pictures. He’ll monologue constantly about how cute you are and how much he loves that scrunchy thing you do with your nose. He’s recited committed-to-memory facts about you so many times that his friends can parrot them too. 

“Yes, I know what their favourite film is, I know you took them to a special viewing of it for their birthday. It’s cute, Wade,” says Laura, patting him on the arm condescendingly. Well, it’s not his fault you’re so wonderful! There isn’t a single thing about you that’s not perfect. He’s constantly bowled over about just how much affection he can fit in his body for you. The other night he was going on about something stupid - he can’t even remember what now, maybe it was about the new Taco Bell menu? - and then realised you hadn’t interrupted him once to shut him up like most people would.

You’d looked over the top of your magazine at him when he’d pointed this out, brow cocked.

“Why would I want you to shut up? I like listening to you talk, Wade.”

Marry you. He’s going to marry you. Every day, then divorce you every day too so he can marry you again. 

You are probably too good for him. Most of his social circle thinks so. You’re patient and kind, when you’re not at your job - where you work at a charity adopting out senior animals, as if you could be any more of a fucking angel - you like to spend your time in his shitty little kitchen, baking desserts for him to get home to. He’ll find you getting Al to taste test for you and his apartment full of laughter and joy. 

Man, he’s definitely put on like, six pounds since the two of you started dating. He needs to be stronger in the face of your cupcakes. 

They are really fucking good though. 

He walks in that night with a plushie under his arm. It’s a cow. He remembers you mentioning offhand how cute you thought cows were, so he decided to grab the biggest one the toy store one the way home had just because he knows it’ll make you smile. You don’t need any more stuffed toys; you sleep with them all in the bed and they’re pushing him off the side at this point because of their sheer number but, well, he likes seeing you happy. 

And then he hears sobbing. 

“Sweetheart?” he asks, immediately panicked. Are you injured? Has someone come to hurt you - has he painted a target on your back because of his job? Bile fills his throat as he stumbles forward…

…and there you are, sitting in front of the TV, PlayStation controller in your lap as tears run down your face while the end of the game plays out. Wade has never felt such relief in his life, laughing as the ache of it is taken from his chest. You turn to him with wide, watery eyes. 

“Don’t you laugh at me, Wade Wilson!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But babe… are you crying at the end of Kingdom Hearts?”

“No!” you lie, trying to mop your face off with your sleeve. Then the music hits its crescendo from the crappy speakers and you start wailing all over again. 

He loves you. He’d kill a million billion people for you. It would take a hell of a long time but hey, one word and he’d do it. If anyone even lifted a finger to hurt you he’d execute them so thoroughly that every generation of their family would be wiped out of existence too. 

To put it in terms you’d approve of, he’d do anything for you. But he also knows you’d never ask him to. You’re just that wonderful. 

“… would it help if I got us take-out and you started playing the second one?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to confirm. 

“I could be in this fucking game, beat Donald Duck’s little feathery ass. Disney, make it happen.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it. Pizza or Chinese?”

Taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk

[npookie0]

Hey. I asked a different writer for a Ronin x Reader fic—Reader like Ther, comforting, soft, the kind of person who doesn’t just tolerate Ronin’s madness holds it, heals it. Someone he sees Ther in. Someone who gives him peace in that jagged, haunted way only grief allows. I sent the request two days ago And honestly? At this point I don’t think I will. Either they’re dead or their ability to read a damn prompt is. It’s not that hard. I didn’t ask for a 30k masterpiece. I asked for emotional depth, comfort, and a character that actually gets Ronin on that broken level. So now I’m asking you, You're the only one who can write Ronin well- Even if he's too soft, Not Toxic, Hey it's at least better 0-0 Can you give me that fic? Because clearly the last one couldn’t and a Angel x Reader x Yandere Ronin

Hi. I will not do your request and I will throw in a whole explanation because your behaviour is really... interesting.

Let's start with your ask to me before I will go into depths about your ask to the "other writer" because - be so for real - do you have no shame?

"Ronin x Reader fic—Reader like Ther, comforting, soft, the kind of person who doesn’t just tolerate Ronin’s madness holds it, heals it" did we play the same killer chat/gluttony gods? Ther didn't heal Ronin's madness, they are quite literally worse than him in some cases of the "madness", they are not a soft person, Ther is someone who's broken by the world, fights with themselves and is forced to stay this perfect girl that they aren't. They are comforting for Ronin, but they aren't a healthy person.

I don't see Ther!reader as a good idea regardless of what flowery language you put around it, he saw Ther in Angel for a bit and soon realised that dating someone solely because they're like Ther is not a good thing for him and his partner, I think he'd be reluctant to date someone who acts like Ther or even looks like them, because he would be haunted by them even more and maybe even see the partner only as Ther in the worst case. He'd hate it.

"I sent this ask to someone else 2 days ago and they still didn't do it" just do it yourself if you can't be patient? I have asks from over 5 months ago and no one is up my alley screaming and crying that their ask wasn't done. Asks are SUGGESTIONS for writing, whether a writer takes them is up to THEM. As far as I know the ask inbox is for free, you are NOT paying anyone to write the piece you ask them to write and expecting someone to do something for free is just showing your rudeness. You are entitled if you think that this is an okay thing to say or do, I will bring up the ask you sent to the writer in a bit because your behaviour is just completely entitled and clearly childish at best.

"You're the only one who can write Ronin well- Even if he's too soft, Not Toxic, Hey it's at least better 0-0" Who are you to judge my way of writing Ronin? I don't know if you noticed but I mostly write FLUFF it's supposed to be soft and I'm sorry if I'm not throwing in a toxic behaviour for fanfics that are meant to be comfort in most cases. I have prompts that I can and will use to write a more full fleshed version of Ronin that aren't meant to be solely made for comfort, but if you can't even appreciate the "too soft" Ronin then you clearly aren't someone who should stick around on my profile.

Bringing another writer down in my inbox is just a low hanging fruit, especially in the way you did it. You're acting like you're entitled to demand anything from anyone, when you are not. I think people forgot that fanfiction was always meant for the writer and whether they share it or not is their good will.

Now for the elephant in the room.

Should I even comment this horrendous "ask" in any way?

You are not only rude, disrespectful and upset for no reason towards the writer, you also clearly didn't understand Angel's, Ronin's and Ther's characters. Calling Angel a bitch and a red flag toxic girl "back in Ronin's bed" is just WOW, I'm sorry to burst your bubble but Ther is way more of a red flag than Angel is. From what I recall in your angel x reader x yandere Ronin ask you apparently wanted Ronin to kill Angel??? Excuse me? Did we play the same game with the same Ronin? That man would never kill Angel?

Do I need to go into details of how your words towards the writer are just extremely uncalled for? Who ARE you to demand a speed of writing from anyone? Just write it yourself if you're uncapable of waiting and accepting that someone doesn't want to do your request or has other things to do in their life than writing.

I will not go into details of how you absolutely fumbled Ronin's and Ther's dynamics because this is just sad to look at.

Also to add to the rudeness about rushing the writer, as you can see in the screenshot they gave me they have 100 asks, I have around 70 the last time I looked at the number. Looking at the amount of asks, I think it's safe to say that you are not the only person who is waiting for their asks to be done.

Now I will go back to writing my Angel fic and then a Ronin x Angel because someone who's a diva dropped it on me <3

See you later people and respect your writers

Nathan <3

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 5: The First Task𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 4 (previous)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 3K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: You and Cedric get into an argument. The first task is a week later. A Professor (you and Cedric's number one shipper) wants to talk with you after it.

Notes: Please comment anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK. (I'm very sorry for the late ass update but motivation hates me)

Content warning: There is an argument and many swear words. Also, a homophobic slur.

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDITS TO ME!

...

You were going to have a blast in Herbology.

Earlier that week, Cedric Diggory had been chosen as Hogwarts champion — which, because of your incredible luck, you were convinced was going to happen — and was required to bring honour to the school by winning the Triwizard Tournament.

For the past few days, he had to miss Herbology to attend interviews and get his wand checked, leaving you alone to take care of the Snargaluff, with the occasional aid from your teacher. Needless to say, you were struggling to handle the plant independently — not that you’d admit it if asked.

And today, Diggory was going to have his first Herbology class since he was elected as the champion, and you’d been dreading finally talking to him.

You bid goodbye to your mates to work in the oh-so-isolating room you shared with Diggory. Grabbing your Herbology coat, you pushed the door open, not surprised to see your rival already dressed in his equipment.

“Missed me, (Surname)?” he raised an eyebrow with a handsome, cocky smile, tracking you with his eyes as you dressed. You realised he was referring to the visible scars the Snargaluff had imprinted on you last class and sneered at him.

“Oh yes, absolutely, it was so boring without you to bother me,” you replied sarcastically, pulling your dragonhide gloves onto your nimble fingers and making your way next to him. You dropped your act quickly, “I’m so fucking happy this is the last day I have to deal with you.”

He huffed and crossed his arms, “I could say the same.”

After a short silence, you sighed, “Congratulations.”

“On what?” Diggory said, clearly knowing what you were felicitating him on.

You stayed silent, so he took that moment to ask you, “Did you put your name in?” 

You shook your head, and he let out a breathy laugh, “Seriously? Out of anyone, I would’ve expected you to try and find some sneaky way to be a champion. Wow. Were you that confident that I wasn’t going to be chosen?” He mocked.

“No. I’m just too young to participate.” You gritted your teeth, “Where’s Professor Sprout, she’s supposed to tell us how to finally kill this thing.”

“Are you seriously gonna change the subject? Are you embarrassed, (Surname)? Because I can guarantee even if you had put your name in, mine would have still popped out.” Diggory said presumptuously, a bit angry that you were suppressing your emotion, “I mean, just look at the wounds on your arms you got without me.”

That was your final straw. “You know what, Diggory? Yeah, sure. I can’t deal with this plant alone. You know why? Because I’m not fucking supposed to! The fact that I am able to stand my own against this Snargaluff without being sent to the infirmary proves my capability as a wizard.” 

Curious students had started trickling into your room, murmuring about you and Cedric’s argument. What was going on? Who was going to win? 

Diggory opened his mouth to retaliate, but you cut him off before he made a sound, “And if you want to argue that you’re so much more powerful than me, just look how you are in Quidditch. You think you’re a good flyer? Well, I’m better and I’ll bet I can beat you any fucking time of the week-”

“THEN WHY DID YOU QUIT?”

You recoiled at the volume of his voice. His face was red in anger and you could tell by the murmurs, whispers and gasps of the students that no one had seen him like this before.

It took you a moment to respond, for you hadn’t heard him raise his voice that loud before, either. You usually ended up punching him before he could.

But now, you were in class and a crowd of students were waiting for you to retaliate. They wanted answers to why you, the Slytherin’s star Quidditch player, quit just before you could ascend to the title of captain.

“Excuse me, pardon me, Miss Hilton.”

You turned your head when Professor Sprout squeezed through your classmates to get between you and Diggory. She ushered the other students out and once the door closed, she turned to the two of you.

“Now, what is the meaning of this?”

Both you and Diggory stood silently. The latter’s head hung in shame of not being capable of controlling his emotions. You knew him as a regularly calm individual, so you understood his disappointment in himself, but still feeling upset towards him, you couldn’t empathise.

Professor Sprout frowned at your soundless states before sighing, “You lads must be so stressed. How about you use this as a free block, I’ll handle the Snargaluff.”

Diggory’s head popped back up, “Won’t you get hurt?”

She chuckled, “I’ll be fine. Now go to the library or help out your classmates. If anyone asks, tell them I allowed it.”

You didn’t hesitate, walking into the room where everyone else was working, eager to escape Diggory’s presence, only to be met with every one of your peers eyeballing you as soon as the door opened.

You quickly shuffled next to your nearest friend — who just so happened to be Winnie. Around a week ago, she and Elsie had switched partners since she spoke better sign language than Winnie, who partnered up with Mary Rivers — the mute girl that you met going to the party.

“(Name)!” she hissed a bit too loud for your liking, “What happened in there? Are you in trouble? Where’s Diggory?” She grabbed your shoulders and shook you dramatically.

You nod towards the room you were in just before, “He’s still in there and no need to worry — nothing happened. Professor Sprout just told us we could take a break from working to help you out. She’ll take care of our plant for us.”

“Well in that case,” Elsie chimed in, “could you help us with our plant?” She gestured to where Mary was standing, carefully tending to some bite marks on her bleeding fingers. You rushed over and when you spotted the red rimming their Snargaluff’s maw, you realised what had caused those marks.

“You okay?” Mary nodded to your question, “Do you wanna sit out for a while and let Elsie and I take care of it?” She shook her head.

Elsie appeared behind you, leaning her head on your shoulder, “Hm, at the very least you should bandage up those wounds.” 

You noticed Mary silently sigh and walk over to where the Herbology med kit lay. It wasn’t uncommon that a student hurt themselves during a lesson — you dealt with poisonous and hostile plants constantly, especially in the later Years.

Compared to your larger, more vicious Snargaluff, Elsie’s and Mary’s was relatively easy to put down. 

Looking around the room, you noticed a few students struggling to get a hold of their plants, and only two other groups had finished; the first being Brian and Alistair and the second being a couple of Cedric Diggory’s friends with him standing between the two of them, carefully handling the fallen Snargaluff with a charming smile as if you hadn’t even fought.

“So,” Elsie said beside you, laying the Snargaluff down to not rip it, “Why did you quit Quidditch?”

“Didn’t I already tell you?” 

“No. But you told Winnie. And made up an excuse for Alistair — whom I still don’t forgive,” she added. “Listen, (Name), if it’s a touchy subject, I get it and you don’t have to say anything, but I really thought you trusted me more than that.”

You felt the back of your neck grow warm and pressed a cold hand on it to cool it down, “It’s not that… I just feel like my reason’s a stupid one.”

Elsie rolled her eyes, “Don’t treat me like Alistair. I’m not that judgemental.”

You took a deep breath. Apart from Winnie, you’d have to say you had the best relationship with Elsie. She knew most of the things that you told Winnie, but lately, you’d been keeping things from her, mainly about Cedric and the kiss.

“Well, I guess it was just something I couldn’t handle. All the stress and pressure to succeed. I already have that with my studies; I don’t need it in an activity I’ll never play again after graduation.” You looked away, “Quidditch won’t get me anywhere. That’s why I quit.”

Elsie was quiet for a moment, as conversations between the other students filled the silence, “I promise I won’t tell Alistair. Or Diggory.”

“Alrighty tighty!” Ziggy hooted, walking backwards towards where the first Triwizard Tournament task was to be, “Ladies and motherfucking gentlemen, are you ready to see our two champions, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory, absolutely crush their opponents and winning the first challenge??”

Roman chuckled and shook his head in embarrassment, bringing his Slytherin scarf higher up his face. Alistair huffed, a clear expression of annoyance etched on his features.

Ziggy, noticing this, slowed his pace to match his friends, “What’s wrong, my man? You still pissed at not getting in?”

“Ha! As if,” Alistair snorted, puffing his burgundy hair out of his handsome face, “Diggory just pisses me off.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re still mad at how he treated (Name) in Herbology,” Ramona Armstrong— Ziggy’s twin and Elsie’s roommate — jumped into the conversation, pushing the two boys apart, “It’s been forever ago, get over it. And it’s not even your battle.”

Earlier that day, at lunchtime, Ramona, Mary and Avery Hilton — the third member of their group — approached you and the rest of your gang, asking if they could tag along to sit alongside you during the games. You assumed this was because you were friends with their roommates, but you found them friendly enough, so everyone nodded in agreement to their proposal.

So there you were. A ten-person group loudly chatting as they approached the Triwizard Tournament’s arena somewhere in the forbidden forest.

Despite the rumours, the forest was calm and beautiful, so much so that you challenged the idea of it being dangerous. However, reminding yourself of what your parents told you about not judging things by their appearance, snapped you back into reality. This was a treacherous place. Danger lied in every bush. You had to be careful but admitted that the gnarly trees and whispering leaves felt less menacing with the teachers up ahead.

“I’m so friggin’ excited! Tina’s already waiting for us!” Winnie said, eagerly skipping alongside Elsie and yourself. Her curly hair was tied up in high pigtails, occasionally, brushing across your arms.

“Who’s Tina?” You asked.

“Um, Destiny, obviously,” Winnie said as if it were obvious, but seeing both yours and Elsie’s confused expression, she finally explained, “Destiny. Tina. Tiny. Tina. Get it?”

You and Elsie shared a look and the latter sighed, “Please just stick with Destiny.”

Winnie pouted but eventually got over it in a matter of seconds.

“(Name)!” Ziggy called for you, rushing to grab your bicep and dragging you to his conversation, “We can both agree that Potter’s not gonna fuck this up, right?”

“Oh please, Ziggs,” Ramona huffed, brushing her spiky red hair out of her face, “He’s just a kid. Sure, he’s “the Boy Who Lived” but dumb luck can only get him so far in life. Just admit it.”

“I agree with her,” Roman chimed in.

“I don’t care,” replied Ziggy sarcastically, before turning to you, “What about you, (Name)? What do you think?”

“Uh,” you hesitated. 

Luckily, Winnie pulled your arm, grabbing your attention, “Look! Look! There it is!”

You turned your head to where she was pointing and made out a stone wall in between the masses and masses of trees surrounding you. The professors near the front vanished into a relatively large entrance.

You and your group passed the archway, a few of them (notably Winnie) craning their neck to get a good look at the fancy architecture and carvings engraved on the walls. 

Since you were one of the first groups, you got to choose your seats first — which turned out to be somewhere in the middle-lower rows where you were facing smaller entrances — presumably where the champions would enter from. The arena was a large dome with thousands of seats for the three school’s students. Your keen eyes noticed the floor was actually a trap door and you wondered about the first challenge.

“Winnie! Elsie!” 

You turned to see Destiny White navigating the crowd settling in and embraced both girls in a warm hug. You noticed out of the corner of your eye Alistair shifting uncomfortably in his seat next to Brian.

Despite your support for the three girls’ growing friendship, you did feel rather uncomfortable with the tension between them and Alistair. You feared your friend group was splitting apart and dreaded being stuck in the middle of the confict.

As the rest of the three schools gathered into the humongous arena, you and Brian chatted and continued to do so even as Dumbledore gave his speech — not unlike most students. 

Similar to the majority of Slytherins, you held a certain disdain for the man. His obvious favouritism towards Gryffindor irritated you and his contempt towards Slytherin fueled the fire in your heart to win every year’s House Cup just to spite him and his efforts to prevent that from happening.

One by one, the Triwizard Tournament Champions were called to enter the arena. 

First was the man you dreaded seeing (despite his attractiveness): Cedric Diggory. Most Students hooted and cheered for the handsome contender, but you sulked in your seat — a mild reaction compared to Alistair full-on jumping out of his chair to boo and yell something a blast-ended skrewt and Diggory’s genitalia, but Brian quickly pulled him down to quiet him, scarred face flushed with second-hand embarrassment.

As Alistair seethed in his seat, you wondered why he took things so much more personally than you did with problems that weren’t his own.

For the next fifteen minutes, the crowd gasped, cheered and wailed at Cedric’s every mishap and close encounter with the dragon as he briskly evaded the beast’s attacks. He had transfigured a rock on the ground to be a dog and sent it out as a distraction — a smart move, you admitted to yourself quietly. However, the dragon changed its mind halfway about who to chase and Diggory had to run and dodge its attacks.

He got the egg with a couple of burns on his limbs — which caused him a few points in the grand total.

Next up was the gorgeous contender Fleur Delacour who caused over half of the students to cheer and hoot and whistle — you swore even a few of your friends joined in. 

The fierce Quidditch star Viktor Krum went before the final competitor Harry Potter. 

Overall, Krum and Potter were tied first while Diggory was second, meaning Delacour was placed last. On the way out of the arena, you and your friends — especially Alistair and Elsie — agreed that she should have scored higher since her spell was effective and the only problem was when her skirt caught fire. You theorised that the judges weren’t entertained enough by her performance and Ramona blamed it on sexism.

Your group chatted with one another, and, being one of the last students out of the gigantic stadium, you happened to leave at the same time as Fleur Delacour.

Her cheeks were red from crying and you noted that she was holding back tears. Her hair was a mess, strands sticking out from her once beautiful ponytail and spit flew from her mouth as she wallowed to Madame Maxime in rapid french.

“Damn,” muttered Alistair, who was walking next to you, “Even crying, she’s hot.”

You gave him a disgusted look, “What the fuck, Alistair?”

“What?” he asked.

“That’s so rude!” You scolded, “She’s bawling her eyes out because she lost a competition that is clearly important to her in front of our entire school alongside her peers and those at Durmstrang, and the only thing you can think about is whether or not she looks good or not while doing it?”

Alistair stared at you, dumbfounded. “Relax, weirdo, it’s just a harmless comment.”

“Harmless-?”

“Geez, you’re so sensitive. Why are you acting like one of those fags?”

Your mouth hung wide open at his words, and before you could retort, Elsie jumped in with rapid-fire insults. 

You deeply inhaled and walked ahead, past the rest of your friends staring at the argument. Delacour was out of sight — which was unfortunate since you wanted to compliment her on her performance — and everyone else was already inside the castle, so you walked alone, attempting to calm yourself.

Near the entrance stood Professor Sprout.

“Quite a spectacle, wasn’t it?” She smiled.

You scowled at her, the anger towards Alister being redirected towards the sweet woman, “I apologise, Professor, I’m not in the mood for a chat.” You pushed past her.

“Wait!” She grabbed your forearm.

You retained yourself from pulling away and turned to face her with a cold, dead expression and she recoiled from your sharp glare before coughing and composing herself.

“The second task!” Professor Sprout spluttered, “It has to do with an egg!”

“An egg?”

“An egg. I am aware that you enjoyed riddles and challenges and — well — as I suspect this egg contains the answer to something related to the second task, it made me think of you and your love for brain puzzles and — well—”

“Please just get to the point, Professor.” You cut her off, rubbing your forehead in annoyance, despite knowing how rude you seemed at the moment, “What do you want from me?”

Professor Sprout bristled, tentative, “I am aware that I’ve asked you to do multiple things you were uncomfortable with but I promise you, Mr. (Surname), this is the last time.”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion, “And that is.”

“Well,” she hesitated, “It has to do with a certain Cedric Diggory…”

...

Chapter 6

[inkykeiji]

But also the thought of big brother Touya noticing you usually steal his shoes to run outside, and he loves it. But this one time he catches you and you hadn’t even realised that you’ve snatched Natsuo’s— but Touya noticed…

JOOOOOO this ask sent me into a fucking fit and i wrote an embarrassing amount about it i am so sorry (but also thank you for such a brilliant idea it had me reeling for days ily ily ily)

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, stepcest, noncon, touya is Awful, unrealistic amounts of cum, one (1) mention of implied underage, minimal prep, slight dacryphilia, fem!reader, implied physical abuse, rough sex words: 2.4k

You don’t notice—and, truth be told, you wouldn’t have noticed, had Touya not made such a big fucking deal out of it. 

But, as always, that just isn’t his style. 

A heavy, dirty palm claps over your mouth the moment you re-enter the mudroom, smothering the scream of surprise punched from your chest as another strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back against a broad chest. 

“Shut up,” your eldest brother growls in your ear, though amusement tinges the edges of his words, demand spit through a grin. 

Using his bodyweight, he manhandles you toward the steadily humming washing machine, spinning you around to face him just before he traps you against it, vibrating edge digging into your back.

“Jesus, Touya!” you heave out, a palm held flat over your heart in an attempt to calm it. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Y’know, I really can’t believe you’d do this to me,” he laments, an exaggerated pout molding his scarred lips. “I thought I was your favourite brother.” 

“What?” your lashes flutter in quick succession, forehead warping with confusion. “You are? You know you are, you always have been—”

“That so? Who’s shoes are on your feet right now?” 

Looking down, your gaze lands on Natsuo’s tattered white sneakers—a stark contrast to Touya’s worn-in combat boots, or Touya’s fraying, battered Vans—and realization smooths your brow. 

Oh no. 

Head snapping up quickly, an explanation begins to bubble in your throat, stalled by the sudden ice in your veins, your heart plummeting through your ribcage. 

“O-Oh! Uh, I-I’m sorry—I just grabbed them—I wasn’t paying attention—”

“So you’ll just slip your feet in anyone’s shoes?” 

The innuendo infusing his snarky tone doesn’t go unnoticed and your eyes narrow, face puckered up with something sour.

“Of course not,” you spit, chin tilting up a little. 

A hum of incredulity vibrates in his throat, head quirked. “Doesn’t seem that way.” 

Your features flatten, fixing your big brother with an unimpressed look, though your heart is still in your stomach, pounding away irregularly. 

You’re sure he can feel it, throbbing in your gut, his hips pressing further into your own, demanding an answer.

“Touya, they’re shoes. They mean nothing. It was an innocent mistake—”

“Prove it.”

“Prove what?” you frown, voice beginning to strain beneath desperation. “It was an accident, meaning that it was unintended, not deliberate, like—”

“Prove to me that I’m your favourite brother.”

A pang sears through your chest, features falling as if he had just physically struck you, appalled that he would even insinuate such a thing, as if he could ever not be your favourite, and your response comes out harsher than you intend, scathing your tongue. 

“I prove that to you every fucking night.” 

Sapphire flares, engulfing pinprick pupils, the hinges of his jaw flexing with a slow, controlled exhale. It wafts across your face, chills skittering after it as dread unfurls, thick and sticky, in the pit of your stomach, engulfing your heart in a tarry, suffocating embrace. 

“Y’know, that mouth of yours is real filthy,” he begins, eyes lidded with a practiced indifference, not enough to hide the flames glimmering in his irises.

Of course your mouth is; it’s routinely glazed by your eldest brother’s tongue, your teeth lacquered in thick spit stained with spice and ash—irrevocably soiled, ruined, forever his.

A response blazes on your tarnished tongue—something you try to keep locked away behind two rows of ivory, something you try to snuff out, muscle pressed hard against the roof of you mouth—but it’s too hot, it’s too strong, melting past your teeth to ooze from your lips, venom and syrup.

“Oh, yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”

You expect a backhand for such a rude response, face preemptively wincing as the phantom of sharp knuckles and metal rings caresses your cheek, but he just smirks, eyes lazily sweeping to the sink crammed between the machines, zeroing in on a thick bar of soap. 

“Oh, I’ve got some ideas.” 

You’re too slow, too weak, too stupid to escape it—or, rather, he’s too fast, too tough, too smart to allow such a mistake, a fluid flash of ivory and crystal as he leans forward, palm already clasping around the bar when you try to wriggle from below his body, his free hand catching your jaw and yanking you to back toward him, hard enough to give you whiplash. 

Pain sears down your spine, a yelp splintering in your throat, body gone pliant beneath your big brother’s touch. 

“Open.” 

Head shaking, your jaw clenches under callused fingertips in defiance, molars grinding together.

“I said, open,” he growls, expertly squeezing the hinges, mouth popping open easily without your permission.

You should’ve known he’d do that, a trick he learned when you were teenagers, a trick he’s been exploiting ever since. 

The bar shoves past your teeth, scraping against the edges, thick curls of soap collecting in the divots of your cheeks. 

A bitterness explodes on your tongue, flattened to the underside of the bar, and your features scrunch up in distaste, nose wrinkling, eyes shut tight.

“Keep it in there,” he says, thumb pressing it in a little further, huffing out a chuckle at your responding gag. “If you spit it out before I cum, I’ll tie it to your goddamn mouth and fuck you again, y’hear me?” 

Azure eyes search your face, slow and calm as they wait for you to nod your understanding. Then he’s smirking, something smug and arrogant curdling the corners of his lips, and he’s spinning you around, grip rough and harsh as he pins you between the machine and his body, and he’s kicking at your inner ankles, toes forcing your legs further apart, knees slipping between your own, keeping them pried open. 

“You know,” he’s saying conversationally, hands unhurried as they creep up your dress, the hem beginning to bunch around his wrists. “I’ve always found it so cute when you act as if you don’t want this.” 

Fingers crawl between your spread thighs, muscles tensing around his as if they’d like to snap shut, his own strong legs urging yours wider. 

Two digits find your hole, drenched and desperate, rubbing circles into it through the lace of your panties—massaging, tips just barely dipping inside, snorting out something sick and cruel as your empty cunt pulses and flutters, a poor attempt to suck them in further.

He plays with you for a breath, gathering the fabric between his forefinger and a thumb, peeling the sticky material from where it was clinging to your folds. 

Holding it taut, he lets your shame build, flushing hot through your blood, pinpricks sprouting across your skin, Touya waiting for that telltale whimper before finally allowing it to slap back wetly, another little snicker dripping from his lips. 

Callused pads find your clit, puffy and yearning and jumping beneath his touch. He brushes against it—a crude apology of sorts—then clamps down on the swollen nub, something high and pitchy cracking in your throat.

“It’s always so hot,” he speaks over your cry, grip strengthening, “when you act as if this doesn’t turn you own just as much as it turns me on.”

Jerking forward, his hips grind into your ass, hard cock pressed tightly to supple flesh. His jaw latches over your shoulder, chin digging into your collarbone and keeping you in place.

“So don’t stop, ‘kay?”

Your head nods; automatic, instinctual, unable to resist even if you wanted to.

Because yeah, sure, he’s fucking sick, but you’re just as bad, ailed with the same illness, contracted from the same diseased household, the both of you growing, festering, in the same putrified environment—nurtured there, poisoned there, by each other, for each other. 

And so, you obey, you perform, body thrashing against his own, palms planted on the top of the washer pushing back hard, his cock twitching in response. 

Yeah, yeah, keep fighting him. 

The sound that rattles in his chest is dark, dangerous, lips spread into a wide grin. One of his hands curls around the back of your neck, grip hard enough to stutter the blood in your jugulars, before he slams your head down against the machine, skull bouncing a little with the impact. 

The force nearly sends the soap skittering from your mouth, eyes widening as you manage to catch it with your teeth, drawing it back in. His palm skims down your spine, splayed flat on the small of your back, pinioning you in place.

His cock breaches you suddenly, one sharp, swift thrust to bury him to the hilt, head jammed tight against your cervix. It fucking stings, delicate skin splitting as your hole stretches, strains, struggles to swallow him whole, desperate to succeed, to submit. 

You choke on a gasp, the soap wedged in your mouth making it difficult to inhale, and Touya laughs, cruelness curling on his tongue. 

His other hand wraps around your waist, fingertips snapping tiny capillaries beneath their touch, using the leverage to pull you back as his hips hammer forward, each drive of his cock jostling your entire body, the edge of the machine jabbing your tummy.

It’s ruthless right from the start, just as it always is with Touya, cock pounding into you hard and fast and deep, the sharp slap of his pelvis against your ass rivalling the steady rumble of the machines. 

The soap is already starting to slip again, melting in the heat of your mouth, eroded by the saliva drooling in thick strings from the corners, and you whine, teeth sinking further into the softening bar, a feeble attempt to hold it in place. 

Even now, you’re still so eager to please him. 

But it’s hard to hone your concentration on the slick bar between your lips when Touya’s consistently ramming against that swollen patch of flesh buried deep within you, cockhead rolling over that spot in quick little motions, in time with the piston of his hips. 

Sparks of pleasure quiver down your legs, each thrust sending another bout flooding through your veins, a dense, hot heat beginning to furl in the pit of your stomach. 

It feels so good, muffled moans seeping past the seam of your stretched lips, fingers curling around the corners of the washing machine, nails scraping metal as you try to anchor yourself, weakly pushing back against your big brother, begging for more. 

It’s a shame your big brother knows your body so well.

“Don’t you dare,” he pants out, purposefully angling his hips so he stops brushing up against that spot, his next thrust missing it completely. “Bad little sisters don’t get to cum on their big brother’s cock, don’t you know?” 

The denial burns your eyes, a stringy, contorted wail of his name wavering around the soap as a thick shield of tears blurs your vision, nose twitching with a sniffle. 

“Yeah, yeah, cry about it, baby,” he mocks, the edges of his letters gone wispy, sounding more like a plead than a demand. “It’s your own fault; if you weren’t such a disrespectful little brat then maybe niichan would’ve let you cum.” 

You hate being told no by anyone, but you hate being told no by Touya the most.

It hurts, chest aching with rebuff, but your body does as he asks anyway, incapable of disobeying a direct order from its owner, tears spilling past your lashes to pool in little puddles on the metal.

You try to say please, to beg so prettily, with glittering lashes beaded with tears and sweet little niichan’s hiccuping your ribs, but the wiggling of your tongue causes the soap to slip again, a sweet yelp of concern trembling in your throat as your teeth dig in deeper, jaw tensing, cheeks hollowing around the bar in an attempt to suck it further into your mouth.

The agony doesn’t last long, though, your combined obedience and weeping and the grumbling vibrations from the machine enough have Touya cumming quickly. 

You should’ve known that would happen, too, Touya now a seasoned pro in the art of the quickie, a feat achieved through years of practice, in family game closets and your personal shower and the backseat of his car. 

Two more pumps before his cock is throbbing almost violently, his hips stammering to a stop, flexors pressed flush to your ass as he fills you to the brim with hot, thick cum. 

The moment he’s got nothing else to give, finished stuffing your cunt full of his rotten seed, he’s pulling out despite your whines of protest, knees hitting tile as his hands curl around your thighs, nails dimpling plush flesh, carving crescents of angry purple as he wrenches them further apart. 

Dollops of cream cascade down your inner legs, his thumbs sure to move out of their way as they lazily roll past, unobstructed. 

“Don’t move,” he breathes, voice infused with a sick sort of awe as his head tilts, spine curving uncomfortably while he follows them down your calves, watching as they trickle right into Natsuo’s shoes. 

“Fuck,” he nearly whines, nose nuzzling into the back of your knee, lips dragging across your skin as he speaks again. “D’y’think you can squeeze some more out f’me?” 

Yes, niichan, of course, niichan, anything for you, niichan. 

Empty hole contracting around nothing and muscles in your gut tensing, you manage to wring more of the sticky substance from your body, sending another torrent of cum flowing down your legs in silky streams to soak into, to stain, Natsuo’s soles. 

A praise sticks in Touya’s throat, garbled and heavy, his tongue smoothing along the residual streaks gleaming on your skin, sopping up the remnants of his pleasure, painting over them with a thick salve of saliva. 

“There,” he’s murmuring when he gets to his feet again, nose trailing along the curve of your neck with a single deep inhale, lips planting a chaste kiss to your earlobe. “That should be enough to remind you to never make such a careless mistake ever again, right?” 

Your head turns, nose bumping against his own, wet eyes blinking twice. Waiting. 

Something sinister smears across your big brother’s lips, crystal eyes shimmering as they watch his fingers dislodge the bar from your mouth, clumps of soap clinging to the edges of your teeth. 

“Yes, niichan,” you say immediately, voice wrecked and raw, the confirmation grating on your throat.

A thumb rubs along your front teeth, smudging the soap in a crude caress, his gaze mollifying slightly. 

“That’s my good little sister.” 

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Oh my goodness, I just read Coffee and Tips and IT’S SO GOOD! I love the civilian’s and villain’s dynamic and like villain said “now that I got a taste and want more.”

So I was wondering and hoping, could you please continue it? I understand if you were intending it to be a fun one off story, are too busy or can’t.

It’s alright either way and I know when it’s hard to continue something you write and feel like there’s nothing more to add. So no pressure. Thanks regardless, it’s absolutely wonderful and I love your writing style! Please take care and I hope you have the most wonderful day and everyday beyond that! 💖✨

Hi! That's so nice! I hope you have a wondeful day too and everyday beyond that haha. Anyway, here it is! There's a bit of fighting, so not that sweet (unless you think protective villains are sweet). I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Part 1 (coffees and tips)

Somebody I care about

Civilian looks at the clock. Only one hour before their shift ends. They sigh as they wipe down the already clean counter. There weren't a lot of customers today, they are probably all scheming in their lair. It has been their most boring shift in a while.

Just as Civilian puts away some clean mugs, a customer walks in. “Good morning! Can I get you anything?” they say as a record on a loop. As they turn around though, their heart makes a little jump.

“Villain! I didn't know you were coming today,” Civilian smiles. “I didn’t have anything else to do today and my henchmen are horrible at making coffees,” Villain says, also smiling widely. “It’s a nice day, right? The sun has been shining all day.” Civilian lets out a sigh. “I’ve been here the whole day. I haven’t had the chance yet to enjoy the weather.” Villain takes a few steps closer to the counter. “I’m sorry to hear that, you should come sit outside with me.”

Civilian really wants to go sit outside with them. Villain has visited the café a few times now and they always enjoyed their conversations. They can rant about their problems and tell them about their life and Villain would always listen very carefully. Then, after buying themselves and Civilian a coffee, they would leave an outrageously large tip (not that they were complaining) and leave. Civilian doesn’t know why villain does this, but it is so relieving being able to tell somebody everything they were worried about. They could really use a talk like that right now.

Right as Civilian wants to agree with Villain’s proposal, another person bursts through the door. “There you are! I swear Villain, if you don’t give back Sidekick right now!” Superhero’s voice booms across the little café. Now it was Villain’s turn to sigh. “They really don’t understand the concept of free will, do they?” Villain asks themselves more than anyone else in the room.

“Hand them over!” Superhero yells. Villain lets out an annoyed groan and turns around. “You morons really are too thick to understand what I’m saying, huh?” Superhero lets out an offended scoff. “Morons?! How dare you call us that, you lowlife thief!”

They get closer to Villain and start getting in their face, which, given Superhero’s height, looks ridiculous. Villain towers over Superhero, not only by physical height but also by demeanour. “I’m only going to say it one more time. Sidekick. wanted. to. change. sides.” Villain starts slowly. “They are not going to and don’t want to come back to you.”

“Lair.” Superhero hisses. “Are you serious? I wouldn’t want to go back either if my boss acts like this.” Civilian only realises that they said that out loud after it was said. Superhero’s gaze snaps to Civilian. If looks could kill, they would drop dead right that instant. “I don’t need your opinion, rat. Be a good peasant and keep your mouth shut.”

Civilian saw something in Villain shift. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” Villain says in a tone that sent shivers down Civilian’s spine. “I don’t think the same thing. Who are you to-” That’s all Superhero could say before crashing into a wall. Villain slowly walks towards the coughing hero. In a ice cold tone that would scare the toughest person on earth, Villain talks slowly. “I don’t want to see your face ever again. You run back to your agency and tell them to never expect Sidekick back.” Superhero is still trying to catch their breath. After a few minutes they manage to speak. “But-” Villain kicks the kneeling Superhero down and puts their foot on their neck. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re lucky someone I care about is in the room. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been so kind.”

Villain lets the hero go and steps back. The Superhero runs out and doesn’t dare to look back. Civilian comes around the corner of the bar. They can’t help but repeat the words in their head.

‘Somebody I care about’

It makes their heart jump and their stomach is feeling funny. “Sorry about that,” Villain starts, “Just tell Boss I will pay for the damages.” Civilian nods. They are thankful it won’t be taken out of their paycheck. “I think it’s better that I leave,” Villain says as they push a heap of cash into Civilian’s hands. “For the trouble.”

Before Civilian can ask about anything, Villain is out the door. Even though villain isn’t there anymore, there are still butterflies flying in their stomach.

[ghastlyfilters]

the valeska twins having a witch s/o!! (or a s/o who loves the concept and idea of witchcraft)

pairing(s): implied jeremiah valeska and jerome valeska x reader

warning(s): absolutely none! but if anyone who reads this doesn’t agree with wicca and bashes it, js leave man 😭

(got this as a little idea because i myself study wicca, and my mother is a grey witch and eclectic. so when i went into town the other day and went into one of my fav wiccan shops, i couldn’t help but think of these two!! also it’s 2am so i’m so sorry for not proof reading this!)

JEROME

• Jerome definitely has no knowledge on witchcraft whatsoever.

• Sure, he knew the whole fortune telling thing from Mr Cicero in the circus and had a few readings from him (back before he knew that was his father) but if you’d have asked him if he believed it, he would have immediately burst into a fit of giggles.

• He doesn’t want to judge you as he’s realised how passionate you are about your beliefs, but he was a little uninterested in learning about the history of it all.

“So you know about Salem, right? The Witch trials?”

“… Salem? Ain’t that where they filmed Hocus Pocus?”

“JEROME!”

• It took a while to get him to take it all in, but you were surprised to find out he actually enjoyed the weeks you spent teaching him on the history of how your beliefs came to be.

• You have to be careful on when you decide to burn incense. If you choose to, make sure Jerome ain’t lurking around. He’s oddly got quite a sensitive nose. So most incense sticks make him sneeze or he either complains about the smell. Shame.

• On nights he feels particularly loopy, he begs you to give him a tarot reading. You were shocked the first time he asked, but you kept putting it off, telling him he had to be in the right mindset for both him and yourself to focus.

• When you DID however give in and do his cards one day, he got the death card, and began to freak out.. not knowing that the death card didn’t necessarily mean death itself.

“DOLL, IF I DIE NOW.. I WANT IT TO BE ON MY OWN TERMS!”

“Jerome that’s not-”

“I HATE THIS.”

• He knocked SEVERAL candles over during that one reading, and when his coat caught on fire.. yeah it was time to stop..

• There’s been days you’ve felt his energy, being the empath that you are. And you know when he’s thinking about his childhood again.

• You asked him if you could do a little something for him with some of your oils, just to perhaps protect him from any negative thoughts that directed back to his past.

• Everytime you light a candle for yourself or others, you have to remind Jerome each time. If you don’t, he’ll just blow it out and walk right past.

• He fucking LOVES your ring collection. There’s a specific ring you have that he finds rather amusing to look at. It’s moonstone, and you’ve found him sitting playing with it on multiple occasions. It really is eye catching.

• His fav crystals are definitely Tiger’s Eye and Lapis Lazuli.

• He had no clue there were different types of witches. Black, grey, white, red, green. And many more.

“What about ginger witches?”

“Well- okay yeah I suppose they exist too..”

• Overall, your beliefs are another quirk that Jerome finds so intriguing about you. He knows that when he’s with you, he’s protected. As you are with him.

JEREMIAH (POST SPRAY)

• Unlike his brother, Jeremiah does actually have some knowledge on witchcraft. Mostly because his adopted family when he was sent away were Christians, and always spoke of Wicca as satanic worship. But Jeremiah wasn’t that stupid.

• He actually showers you with new gifts that you can use for what you do. And he LOVES the scent of incense. So he makes sure you’re stocked up on that at all times.

• Jeremiah actually came forward to you once about something he’d never really been able to talk about to anyone. And he had wondered if you’d be able to make this specific thing go away. Jeremiah had a certain sleep paralysis demon torment him for years, and unfortunately he’d had to grow used to it. But when he figured out there was things you could do to help, he knew to approach you about it.

• He’s very interested in your clairvoyance. You’ve told him about visions you’ve had in dreams, and it’s always intrigued him. But he’s even more surprised when your visions have came to be. Some unwanted, some rather pleasant.

• However, when it comes to readings, he’s a bit cocky. He likes to think he already knows what his future holds.

• Whenever Jeremiah feels awfully run down or fatigued, he enjoys allowing you to rub oils on his temples. This is more often than you’d think. When you tell him to close his eyes, he does so. And the more you try to relax him, the more it gives him the tingles. He actually shivers at the thought of it. He loves it.

• He knows the Mercury Retrograde means a lot to you, so when you insist on having to do your own little private things for that occasion, he doesn’t bother you.

• He’s watched you burning your intentions on little notes from inside of his hideout. He thinks you standing there as the smoke from your small cauldron descends into the night air is quite a beautiful sight.

• Jeremiah used to get awful night terrors in his bunker, and even now he still uses the method you always instructed him to vision. He imagines himself in a mirrored dome, his desires and whatever he values are inside with him. Whatever is on the outside stays on the outside. And anything that’s inside, including himself, is along the mirrors facing the outside. Meaning that the mirrors are a method of not allowing anything else in.

• Yes, Jeremiah is rather private about all of this, but he’s found great comfort in using strategies you’ve taught him. Like Jerome, he feels very protected with you. And you’ve helped him get rid of many things that once stood in his way. But beware. There’s also many things Jeremiah might try and use, that perhaps go a little too far in your books..

YOOOOOO THIS WAS INCREDIBLY FUN TO MAKE!! i know it’s been a while since i last wrote, but i am slowly coming back. so why not start off with the two most memorable we all know and love? <3

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

ugh i was rereading your headcanons about jackie dealing with her bedwetting and trying to hide it and nat and van and tai all coming across her and realising its a recurring thing and jackie getting all mad and upset from being sleep deprived and tantrumming when anyone even slightly tries to bring it up and then nat quietly coming to her rescue and its so so good and i love it so much!!! if you were ever in the mood to write it, id be over the moon but also no pressure at all bc you already wrote such a good fic for that hc ~ :3

Little!Jackie - Hiding

Always happy to write for you <3 sorry this is a bit messy and unedited my brain has been a bit all over the place.

Word count: 1982

The first time it happened, Jackie hadn’t been worried. She’d had a bad dream, she’d had juice before bed and it was just one accident. It didn’t mean anything.

But then it happened again. And again. And suddenly Jackie was worried. Because it was stupid at this point. She wasn’t a baby - not like Lottie, or sometimes Nat - she shouldn’t be dealing with this. Shauna certainly didn’t, or Mari, or Van. So why Jackie?

It didn’t matter. As long as no one ever found out, Jackie didn’t really need to think about it.

This meant no more bedroom sleepovers with Shauna, no more naps on the couch, no more dozing off in the backseat of the car while Nat hummed along to the radio. A small price to pay in order to avoid absolute humiliation.

The first fix she tried - because washing sheets every night was not practical or easy - was giving up her nighttime sippy cup. But everyone knew how much Jackie loved her pre-bed juice and if she stopped drinking it they’d probably assume she was having bad thoughts about food again and she’d get sent back to that doctor who looked like evil Santa Clause. So she took to tipping it out her bedroom window every night after she’d been tucked in. It worked for the first night, and the night after that, and Jackie thought she'd fixed herself - but then it started again.

It was around this time that she had her first run in with one of the others. Jackie had been sure everyone was in bed since it was 3 am and no one woke up at this hour. So she didn’t think there’d be a problem taking her sheets and pajamas to the laundry. Wrong. Jackie had walked straight into Van in the hallway, her arms overflowing with dirty laundry. “Jackie, what are you doing?” Van had asked sleepily, rubbing at her eyes.

Jackie hadn’t known what to say. So she hadn’t said anything. She’d stood there like a deer caught in headlights, unable to even move. “An accident?” Van offered, in an attempt to be helpful.

“No.”

Van raised a disbelieving eyebrow at this. “No?”

“No,” Jackie reinstated, turning quickly on her heel and retreating back to her bedroom. And that was the end of that. Laundry would be done later.

It seemed to get worse after that. If skipping out on juice wasn’t going to help, Jackie would just have to stop sleeping. Which - in hindsight - was not a logical idea at all. It only took two days for the plan to miserably fail.

She had a headache. One almost certainly caused by a lack of sleep. But no one else seemed to care because Shauna and Melissa were playing a very rough game of Treasure Hunting in the living room. It was a game which involved a lot of screaming and turning over furniture. None of which was helping Jackie. She snapped. She hadn’t meant to - but Shauna had bumped into Jackie and knocked her hand as she’d been placing one of her calico critter beds, disturbing the whole carefully arranged room. “You’re being too loud!” Jackie finally snapped, standing up in frustration with her fists clenched by her sides. Shauna just stood there, sort of shocked.

“Jax… I’m sorry,” She tried - and Jackie knew it was harder for Shauna to apologise than it was for most people, but she still didn’t care. Jackie huffed, pressing her hands over her ears and storming out of the room.

So what? She wasn’t on the best terms with Shauna or Melissa (who’d cried a little bit after she was snapped at), but it would blow over by the morning.

By dinner, Jackie thought maybe they’d even forgotten, she was happy to sit at the table beside Shauna. Then Mari had brought out dinner - casserole - and Jackie had actually blanched. Casserole was disgusting. It reminded Jackie of dinners with her mother, and being forced to swallow down all the icky textures that made her skin crawl. She couldn’t do it. “You’re not hungry, princess?” Nat asked, worry on her face.

Jackie just shrugged, pushing her plate a little bit away. “C'mon kid, try just a little bite and if you don’t like it I’ll get some crackers and grapes.” That was their usual rule - Jackie only ever needed to try. But she didn’t want to do that tonight. She groaned, loud enough to get the attention of some of the other girls at the table.

“It’s dis-gusting,” She huffed, crossing her arms. “It smells yucky, it looks yucky, and I do not want to eat it.

Nat looked less worried now - and maybe a little bit cross, which made Jackie’s stomach twist nervously. “Jackie, that isn’t very nice. Mari spent a long time making this for you. It’s ok not to like something, but it’s not ok to be rude.” Jackie whined, frustrated that Nat wasn’t taking her side. She slid down her chair dramatically, stretching her legs out under the table and glaring away from Nat.

“I don’t. Want. To try it.”

Van sighed, and cut in with an attempted mediation. “Look, no one’s saying you have to eat it, Kid. You just can’t be rude about it, ok?” Jackie felt targeted now - both Van and Nat being on her case about the stupid dinner.

She groaned, loudly, and slammed her palms hard against the table. “Yucky, yucky, yucky!” She exclaimed.

“Jackie, that’s enough.” Tai’s voice was calm, but stern enough to make Jackie stop her actions and look up in fear. “Go sit in the calm down corner, five minutes. Would you like someone to come and sit with you?” Jackie shook her head firmly before stomping off to the corner in the living room which was dubbed the calm down corner. She dropped down onto the soft pillow which sat in the corner and immediately felt awful. She wished she’d asked for someone to come with her, because now she felt alone and scared and it was so awful. It was just like that night - they were all mad at her and now she was alone and it was her fault.

Jackie cried loudly, tears stinging her cheeks and snot pooling at the base of her nose. She kept going until her chest hurt so much she couldn’t breathe properly anymore and her head was all light and airy. She slumped down onto her side, curling into the tightest ball possible and scrunching her eyes shut.

She fell asleep. Jackie should’ve known this would happen.

She woke up to Tai gently rubbing her shoulder and saying something - maybe telling someone not to come in?

“Hey Jackie,” she smiled calmly as Jackie’s eyes fluttered open. It didn’t take long for Jackie to remember why she was in the calm down corner. She flinched away from Tai’s gentle hand, squirming so she was sitting up - and that’s when she felt it. A stale dampness between her legs she’d grown to know so, so well. Her face paled in panic at the realisation. No, no, no, no, no. “It’s ok sweetheart, no one else saw.” Jackie shook her head firmly because it was not ok. It was not ok that she had an accident and it was definitely not ok that Tai had seen, and now knew how much of a baby she was. Jackie felt trapped - stuck in the corner, Tai crouched in front of her - it made her heart hammer faster and faster.

“Not ok,” she huffed, pulling herself up so she could get out of here.

“Jackie - hey, take a breath. If you run out of here right now someone is going to see and I know you don’t want that,” Tai whispered gently so anyone listening outside the door couldn’t hear. “So why don’t you let me help you? Yeah? Let me bring you some clean clothes, ok?” Even though Jackie did not want - or need - Tai’s help, she didn’t want everyone else to see. Tai already knew how stupid and pathetic she was, so it couldn’t really get much worse.

Jackie let Tai help her, but once it was done, she was out of there as fast as her legs would take her and she spent the next week avoiding Tai at all cost. At least everyone just assumed that was because Tai had sent her to the corner.

Things seemed to only get worse and worse for Jackie. Even though she had to start sleeping again, she couldn’t get herself through the whole night. To make it worse, everyone always seemed mad at her for one reason or another and she was too tired to do anything at all. She couldn’t play with her toys, she couldn’t do soccer drills and she couldn’t read with Shauna. Everything just felt awful. And it all came to a crux on one particularly awful night. Jackie had been putting her sheets in the wash when the exhaustion had caught up to her. Just a little nap, she’d thought, curling up on a pile of clean towels which Lottie must’ve gotten partway through sorting yesterday. It was warm and soft and it took very little for Jackie to drift off.

Nat found her, she’d been going to see if Jackie was coming down for breakfast when she’d found her bed empty and stripped. Piecing together what had happened wasn’t too hard after that. She took the sheets out of the dryer, and without anyone else seeing she remade Jackie’s bed and put her pajamas away. Now, she only had the hard part left, waking Jackie up.

“Baby,” she cooed softly, crouching down beside the girl on her bed of towels. Jackie whined softly, sleepily.

“Natty…” she mumbled, recognising the voice before the situation.

“Yeah, princess I’m here.” Jackie rubbed at her eyes before opening them, squinting at the light coming into the laundry room. “You fell asleep, but I fixed up your bed so you don’t have to worry about it.” Oh. Oh. Jackie’s half asleep mind took a moment to catch up. She needed to cover this up, quickly.

“I didn’t, Uhm, I didn’t. It was just juice - I was thirsty and I spilt it so I needed… and I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” she bit her lip roughly, watching Nat’s face not at all shift into believing her. “I swear… I didn’t. I’m not a baby,” she grumbled, crossing her arms right over her chest.

“Jax, you’re not a baby, it’s ok,” Nat cooed, putting out a gentle hand on Jackie’s shoulder. She shrugged it away, her face hardening crossly.

Jackie didn’t know what else to say so she just stood up, stomping off to hide into her room until all of this would just disappear like it never happened.

Nat chose not to push for details after Jackie shrugged her off, she knew Jackie could be stubborn if it meant protecting her reputation. And it wasn’t like it was a problem, everyone had accidents from time to time. Still - she was worried about Jackie and needed to figure out what to do so she went to Tai and Van because they always seemed to know what to do. “You mean it’s happened more than once?” Nat asked, in surprise, once they’d both relayed their own personal experiences with Jackie.

“Must’ve…” Van nodded in thought, wondering what could possibly be done. “Mel doesn’t talk about it either but at least she’ll let me help… Jackie is…” different, was what Nat thought was probably meant to follow, but it felt wrong to describe Jackie that way. Jackie, who spent every waking moment doing everything in her power to not be different. Nat knew in that moment that she’d probably never break through Jackie on this front, and should probably start thinking of a way to help without actually helping her.

[velocesainz]

Hiiiiiii would you want to do

Childhood bsf Annabeth chase x Apollo reader who is dying of an illness that can't be cured , only Luke and reader know about it and reader refuses to tell anyone else, wanting Annabeth not to worry thinking that reader just gets sick often.

When Annabeth leaves for a quest when reader's sicker then normal only to come back and reader is gone only leaving a sentimental gift to both Luke and her behind with a letter saying goodbye and sorry something like that ?

She/her or they/them please do tell if you cannot write this

I love this request, thank you so much!

Improper Goodbyes

Percy jackson masterlist | Main masterlist |

Summary: reader is dying of a terminal disease and nobody knows except Luke. Annabeth sees that reader is getting sick but doesn’t think much of it but realised when it’s too late

Warnings: very sad, angstyyy, mentions of death

Pairing: Annabeth Chase (platonic) x Apollo! Fem! Reader, Luke castellan (platonic) x Apollo! Fem! Reader

A/n: this might be the saddest thing I’ve ever written and I’m here for it. Make sure to request!

Reader pov:

I was in the bathroom in the apollo cabin spewing my guts out into the bowl along with blood. I found out I had cancer a few days ago since father had sent me a letter (I am the favourite child).

I was just sitting on the floor thinking about how I was just going to disappear. I felt relief but also was overwhelmed by the faces of all my siblings and friends especially Annabeth, my best friend since the day I was born.

I was sitting there thinking about all the good times I had at camp when the door burst open revealing Luke, my other best friend.

“Hey y/n I was thinking about heading out to pick some strawber- what happened?” Luke asked incredibly worried seeing the blood in toilet bowl.

I didn’t want to tell him but he deserved to know. As one of um closest friends he deserved to know what was wrong with me.

“I-I have cancer Luke. Leukaemia stage 3. Incurable” I told as I saw his face drop with every word I said

“H-H-How long do you have left?” He asked me and I could see tears springing into his eyes

“6 months maximum. I’m sorry Luke” I told him and looked away, I couldn’t bear to see Luke crying

“We’re going to make these 6 months the best you’ve ever experienced. Let me just tell ever-“

“No Luke. You’re not telling a single soul about this.” I cut him off

I looked back at him and he gave me a sad smile. He was upset that I wouldn’t let him tell anyone but he also wanted to respect my wishes.

“Alright then. But if Annabeth finds out and tells the rest of the camp don’t blame me! Now come on, we have memories to make” Luke said as he dragged me out of the Apollo cabin

Timeskip:

I was talking to Annabeth by the fire when I felt nauseous again. This is the 5th this happened today and Annabeth seemed to be catching on slowly

“Hey y/n are you alright? You seem to be extremely pale and sickly looking recently” Annabeth asked me

“Yea I’m fine, just been a little under the weather recently” I lied through my teeth

“Nothing a little ambrosia can’t fix! I’ll go get some for you right now” Annabeth said as she got up but I pulled her right back down

“There’s no need for that Annabeth. I have some back in the cabin, I’ll drink it before going to bed don’t worry about me” I tried reassuring her but she didn’t really seem to buy it

Annabeth pov:

Why was y/n acting so weird? It’s weird enough that she’s been sick for so long and in top of that she refuses to take ambrosia even though she takes it multiple times a day when she is sick.

Am I missing something here?

No Annabeth, you’re overthinking it. She’s a child of Apollo, she can take care of herself.

“Annabeth, Percy and Grover please join me up front here” Chiron called out probably to inform us of another quest.

I was really getting fed up of being dragged by Percy everywhere for his troubles and quests. I wanted to spend more time with the others at camp.

I want to take care of y/n like how she took care of me.

I rarely even see her anymore since she’s mostly just locked in her cabin or I’m on a quest with seaweed brain.

I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I hope this ends soon.

Timeskip:

I was packing up for the quest and just as we were about to leave y/n came up to me along with Luke .

“Can I hug you? I really want to get a hug from you before you leave for another long quest” she also mumbled something at the end about this being her last hug or something but I didn’t pay much attention to that.

“Of course honey! You don’t even need to ask, you know I absolutely adore your hugs” I said as I hugged her.

I then realised how much thinner she had gotten. I could feel the bones in her back as I hugged her.

I again didn’t pay attention to it because some people here at half-blood have had really bad flu and other diseases but have always recovered from it.

But this time felt different. I felt a strong twine in my gut. Something was wrong.

Probably in the quest. That always happens.

Y/n pov:

I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker day by day and I knew my last few moments were drawing closer.

I started writing letters to the ones I cared most about and also gave all my stuff away leaving only the sentimental pieces for the ones who mattered the most to me

It hurt to let go of this beautiful place but our fates have been decided and there is nothing we can do to change it.

As I laid on my death bed surrounded by my cabin mates and Luke they told me how much I meant to them and how much they will miss me.

I couldn’t focus on that however. I just wished Annabeth was here with me. I wanted to say a proper goodbye but she wasn’t here.

I felt my eyelids grow heavier and heavier. I could barely speak but I had to tell Luke what I wanted to say to Annabeth.

“Luke tell Annabeth that she was the most amazing friend I could ever ask for and also give her this” I told told him as I gave him a letter that I had addressed to Annabeth.

Luke pov:

I couldn’t believe it. My best friend was dead and her last wish to see her childhood best friend couldn’t be fulfilled.

I felt grief sadness and guilt overcome me as I feel to my knees next to her body.

The only person who truly understood me was dead. How was I to move on?

I walked with heavy steps to my cabin and I saw her ring on my bed with a letter.

That ring meant to much to her. It was given by her mother and it contained the most beautiful sapphire I had ever seen.

She never let anyone touch it since it meant so much to her. I guess I meant just as much to her as this ring.

I looked at the contents in my hand. Annabeth’s letter along with a small box.

If only Annabeth was here. Y/n would’ve passed away surrounded by all of whom she loved.

Annabeth pov:

I returned to camp after the quest but that feeling never went away.

Everyone at camp looked grim and depressed, especially the Apollo kids and Luke.

I tried to look around for y/n but I couldn’t fine her anywhere.

Luke came up to me and handed me a letter and a small blue velvet box.

“Y/n wanted you to have this. It was her last and only wish” Luke said with a coarse and scratchy voice. It sounded like he had cried for hours.

“What do you mean last and only wish? Is y/n ok? What happened to her?” I asked Luke hoping to find some answers but he just gave me a sad look.

“Read the letter. You’ll understand everything” he told me and left

I hurriedly opened the letter and read what was written:

Dear Annabeth,

I hope I was able to give this to you in person but if not then so be it. You have been my best friend for over 10 years at this point and our friendship was the most cherished thing I ever had. You made me laugh, think, enjoy life and many more things. I’m sorry we couldn’t grow old together like we said we would but just know I’ll always be supporting you along the way. I have stage 4 leukaemia and it is incurable. I’m sorry for not telling you earlier but I didn’t want to worry you. This is getting really long but I just wanted to let you know that you were the best thing in my life and I will always be with you in your heart. Please don’t grieve over me. I love you.

Your best friend,

Y/n

Tears pooled in my eyes as I continued reading the letter. After I finished I opened the small box which had her necklace inside it.

Her most prized possession.

It was given by her father. A bow and arrow pendant with the most beautiful diamond I had ever seen. She wouldn’t even let people see it forget touching it.

How was I to live without my best friend? I can’t be without her.

Why are the gods so cruel? Why did they have to take her away?

I broke down in the middle of the field crying.

Everyone passing by gave me sad looks and walked away knowing I’d want to be left alone.

My best friend was dead. My sister. My lifeline. My support and my soul had been ripped away from me.

All she wanted was to see me before she died and I couldn’t even do that. What kind of a friend was I?

She was gone and there was nothing I could do to bring her back.

A/n: Let me know your guys feedback on this and let me know what other people/genres you want me to write about! Requests are open. Kissies ✨

[nayziiz]

Witness | CL16

Summary: In the shadowy world of Monaco's elite, the Leclerc family reigns supreme. Charles Leclerc, the charming middle son, maintains their pristine public image—until one rainy night, during a fit of rage, Charles does the unthinkable. A young woman witnesses his actions, and her terrified eyes haunt him. Consumed by guilt and fear of exposure, Charles embarks on a desperate search to find her before she can destroy his family’s legacy. As he delves deeper into Monaco's underbelly, Charles must confront his own darkness and the lengths he will go to protect his family.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x OC (Marie)

Warnings: Violence, blood, angst

Author's Note: Sorry for the delayed updates - life has been running circles around me this week. Hoping to get back into a stable routine again next week.

Masterlist

Charles desperately needed advice from Lorenzo on what to do, but he didn’t want to implicate his brother, with a baby on the way, nonetheless. It was his problem and he needed to clean up his mess. But more than that, he knew the person threatening him could do quite a bit of damage, because unlike Marie, this person had video footage. Worst of all, the video contained enough footage to clearly identify Marie, who would be seen as an accomplice to the murder since she didn’t report it.

Chapter 6

Just when Charles thought the damage control was done, he received word through one of his guards that someone else witnessed the murder. Not only did they see Charles kill a man in cold blood, but they saw Marie. They saw Marie run away and they saw that Charles did nothing to silence her permanently. They saw Charles take pity on her because he wanted to protect himself and his family.

Charles knew that he needed to protect her, whether she liked it or not. So, he sent his men out to keep an eye out for her, to steer any potential threats away from her. Of course she picked up on it after a day, but she tried her best to ignore it. She assumed he wanted to remind her of her promise to not tell anyone. Charles needed to speak with her too, to explain why he had his men following her again, that he wasn’t threatened by her, but that he wanted to make sure she stayed safe.

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to approach her late at night after her shift as she walked home. She could hear his footsteps behind her. She knew his men would never let someone follow her so closely in the dark without making their presence known. She could only assume it was Charles himself who was walking a few metres behind her. She came to an abrupt halt and spun around before stalking towards Charles who she could now make out under the misty moonlight.

“Is there a reason you’re following me in the fucking dark, Mr Leclerc?” She snapped at him once she was face-to-face with him.

“I realise this may look suspicious,” he began, but she interrupted him.

“Is this how it ends? Will you be bludgeoning me to death as well or have you found some other way to dispose of me?” Marie countered, but once she saw the colour drain from his face and his small smile fade, she knew she had overstepped. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. I didn’t think you’d be following me tonight.”

“You have every right to be mad at me, but please know that I will not be harming you at all, Ms Dupont. I assure you,” Charles insisted, his voice soft and tender as he spoke to her. “But, that doesn’t mean someone else won’t.”

“What do you mean?” Marie asked, confused.

“It has come to my attention that there was a third individual in the area that night who… witnessed the murder. They saw me. They saw you. And, now they are threatening me with video evidence if I don’t pay them quite a handsome amount of money. They are also painting you out to be an accomplice because there was no police report filed,” Charles explained.

“So, that’s why you have your men stationed around me?” Marie realised.

“It’s the least I can do after everything,” Charles replied. “You were an innocent witness, you shouldn’t have to be punished for something I did.”

Marie remained quiet for a moment as she contemplated his admission. She appreciated the fact that he was upfront about the blackmailer.

“How much do they want in exchange for their silence?” Marie wondered.

“5,000,000 Euros” Charles mumbled.

“Damn,” Marie muttered before scratching around in her purse. “I have 2 Euros to help you out, you know, since I’m an accomplice now. I’m sure you can handle the rest, no?”

It took Charles a few seconds to register her attempted joke before he chuckled at her making light of the situation.

“If I had my way, they wouldn’t get a cent, especially from you,” Charles informed her and attempted a half-hearted smile. Marie mirrored his weak smile and looked around, spotting several of Charles’s men nearby.

“Would you like to walk me home? We’re halfway there anyway,” she wondered.

“Of course,” Charles agreed before they started walking side-by-side in the direction of her apartment building.

She didn’t plan on drifting off to sleep, but there was something about the silence of the night and having someone in the apartment with her that made her mind relax for the first time in weeks. She may not have trusted Charles completely, but he had proven to her on several occasions that he was in fact not going to harm her.

He carried her to her bedroom and covered her with her blanket before retreating back into the living room area. He tried to tidy up a bit, but didn’t know where most of the things went, so he gave up and went to rinse out their coffee mugs. When he dried his hands, he turned around and surveyed the open plan apartment. The last time he was in such a humble home was when he was still a young boy before his parents made a name for themselves. He thought back to some fond memories of reading books with his mom and watching racing with his father in their first family home. He choked back his tears reminiscing of a life with no worry and pulled out his wallet. He left all the cash he had on him on the counter for Marie to find the following morning when she woke up. He also left a note with his phone number on it, just in case she needed to get hold of him for whatever reason.

He didn’t want to leave one of his men in her apartment, as much as he wanted to for her safety, but he respected her boundaries and privacy. Instead, he arranged with the building manager that one of his men disguise himself as a roaming security guard on her floor while a second guard remained stationed in the building lobby, observing the people coming and going and a third guard at the building’s back entrance for good measure. There was no way he was going to let her get hurt because of him.

---------------------------

Taglist: @headinthecloudssblog

[poppitron360]

Someone sent me an ask ages ago about my Valdangelo hcs, but it somehow got deleted? I’m really really sorry bc I missed a chance of a lifetime to infodump so I hope you’re reading this if that was you and you’ve been waiting for my response- here it is. Please please please don’t be discouraged I love it when people send me asks.

This also doubles up as the third instalment of my series about “Why Literally Any Ship Is Better Than Caleo/Deep-Dive Into My Thoughts On All Leo Ships”:

Pt. 1 Valzhang

Pt. 2 Valgrace

We were robbed of Leo and Nico’s friendship. I get that there are a lot of characters and so many arcs to give them, but I wish that Rick had given them more time to interact and spent less time on Caleo, because tbh we never really cared about Cal for any reason other than to develop the men’s arcs. Because Platonic Valdangelo has so much potential that just isn’t covered in the books, I’m gonna base most of this post on what COULD’VE been, from fannon and headcannons.

1. They are Trauma Twinsies. By that, I mean they are both metaphors for different ways of coping with loss. Nico pushes others away from himself, not wanting to get close to anyone. Leo pushes himself away from others, hiding behind an idealised version of himself. Both believe that letting others in would just lead to rejection, and so they shut everyone out to protect themselves. But I feel like Nico copes with it a lot better than Leo does. He has an outlet for it- being emo. As someone who dabbles with emoism myself, I can tell you that, for me, wearing those clothes actually makes me incredibly happy. Nico is owning his pain. Leo is bottling it all up inside and then hiding it behind the jokes and the smiles. I feel like Nico could teach Leo to let it out a bit.

2. Also, their backstories match in more ways than one. Both their moms were killed because of a prophecy about them- leading them both to blame themselves for their deaths. Both have been treated as outcasts because of their powers, Nico by CHB and CJ, Leo by his family (and probably CHB as well, though we don’t really see how he was treated after revealing his abilities). Both ran away because of that. Both probably have religious trauma. They’ve both lost everyone they’ve ever cared about. They’re both being smothered with love and affection by Jason and the rest of the fandom. They both cope with feeling alone by spending more time talking to things that aren’t alive, Nico to the dead, Leo to his machines.

3. So imagine how they could seek comfort in each other! They’ve both been through similar things, so they understand each other’s pain way better than the others. I mean, Jason means well, but he’s never truly known what it’s like to be an outcast- he was held aloft on a golden shield and pronounced Preator. Neither of them would try to “fix” the other, and they wouldn’t try to “one up” the other either. They just share, and when the other says “that sucks”, they know that they really mean it. I imagine they sit five feet apart and just cry. No talking necessary, just silent understanding passing between them. They keep each other company, because they both know what it’s like to be alone.

4. They are both autistic (headcannon). Thank you to @aroaceleovaldez for opening my eyes to this one, and in fact making me realise a few things about myself and why I relate to Leo and Nico so much (pls go check out their posts on the subject, they do a much better job at explaining it than me). But it’s true. I don’t know if Rick did it intentionally or not, but I henceforth hath claimed them both as my kin, alongside Hephaestus himself (“I don’t understand organic life forms”- me neither, man, me neither). Leo and Nico communicate on the same wavelength, something Caleo doesn’t do. Calypso explodes at him for not fitting the “hero” stereotype, for being different. She has no patience with Leo when he does a social fuck-up, something I personally find incredibly frustrating. When he does something wrong, she just shouts at him, and doesn’t take the time to explain what he should do differently. No wonder Leo immediately got defensive! Here was this random woman yelling at him because he broke her table, and he didn’t understand what he did wrong.

5. They are both tiny- much like how Leo and Frank’s physical appearances symbolise their differences, Leo and Nico’s symbolise their similarities. Because all sad people are short, apparently. Valzhang is the yin and the yang, Valdangelo is just two yins excitedly info-dumping about their special interests, (Mythomagic, Machinery/Dragons). Their shortness could be metaphors for many things that they have in common, but I think it best symbolises their loss of childhoods. Nico has changed a lot since he was that happy little ten-year-old we first met in ttc, but Rick never lets us forget that he’s still just a kid. Leo always lacked the physical advantage in fights, so he’s had to learn from an early age to use his brains and his wits to defend himself. As a result, he grew up way too fast, but he still projects that silly, hyperactive little-boy energy as a way to mask. Calypso ridicules Leo for his height and his scrawny appearance.

6. Nico could let Leo get closure on his mom. Think about it. He’d be able to summon her, let him make peace, and let him realise that she does not blame him for her death. Nico could console Leo, reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, because Nico understands more than anybody what Leo is going through. This helps Leo on his arc way more than Calypso could, help him get closure, and learn to accept himself and his powers.

So, the summary of all these points is: They can understand each other on ANOTHER LEVEL. More than Cal and Leo ever could.

Like I said in my Valzhang post, it doesn’t have to be romantic. I hate that everything revolves around romance. Platonic relationships are important, y’all! We all need them, especially Leo, considering how insecure he feels about being the “seventh wheel”.

What ship should I do next? These are all the ones I actively ship, but anything’s better than Caleo. Liper could be fun, or Perleo. Maybe, to prove that literally anything is better than Caleo, I’ll do Leo x Octavian? Lmk in the comments.

[bloody-bee-tea]

Not just a toy

Suguru flops down in a chair in Shoko’s working space without so much as greeting her.

“Wow, you sure are in a mood,” she drawls out and raises an eyebrow at him, clearly expecting him to explain himself.

“Satoru’s out on a solo mission,” Suguru says in answer and he refuses to acknowledge the pit of dread in his stomach.

Solo missions are happening more and more for the both of them lately, after Satoru managed to kill Toji and Suguru can’t say that he likes it much.

In all honesty, it’s making him worry and with every new assignment that sends them to different parts of the town or the country, the dread continues to grow stronger.

“So? You’re not worried about him, are you?” Shoko asks and the thought is ridiculous enough to make him scoff.

They both know that Satoru is stronger than anyone, especially after he unleashed his full potential after Toji nearly killed him.

“I’m not,” Suguru sighs out and Shoko levels him with a look.

“Either you tell me right now what has you in this mood or you take your sorry ass out of here, because this is where I work, you know. I’m not here to pity your pathetic self.”

“Ouch,” Suguru whispers but he knows that she’s right. He came here for a reason, even if he doesn’t quite yet want to admit it to himself and moping silently to himself is certainly not it.

“I’m just—worried,” Suguru finally admits and to Shoko’s credit, she immediately knows that this is no longer about Satoru. At least, not only.

“About what?” she asks with more patience than he thought she could muster and Suguru closes his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“That Satoru is going to forget all about me,” he quietly admits and the silence in the room is deafening.

“You might want to say that again, because that literally makes zero sense,” Shoko finally says and Suguru sighs again.

“It’s just—”

“You know that Gojo is obsessed with you, right?” Shoko interrupts him and Suguru presses his lips together.

He knows. And for now, it’s even true. But—

“For how long though?” he bitterly mutters and tips his head back when he can feel Shoko’s eyes burning into him. “One of these days the novelty of me is going to wear off and then what?”

“The novelty of you? Geto, you might as well speak in tongues, cause none of what you say makes a lick of sense,” Shoko tells him and Suguru wishes she would understand him like Satoru does, so he doesn’t have to explain every last one of his thoughts.

“Satoru likes me because I’m new, so to speak. He’s never met anyone who could keep up with him, however briefly. And with how he was brought up he’s also never met anyone who didn’t cower in front of him, so of course he’d take a liking to me,” he says, his voice barely audible in the otherwise quiet room. “But he’s pulling so far ahead of me and one day he’s going to realise that I’m just like everyone else. And then what? He’s going to lose his interest in me and these solo missions are only speeding that process along.”

Something hits him square in the forehead.

“Ouch, Shoko, what?” he gets out, rubbing the stinging spot and glaring at the pen she threw at him.

“I hate to say this but you’re almost smarter when you’re goofing off with Gojo. What the hell are you even talking about? That guy adores you. He’s so head over heels in love with you that none of your words make a lick of sense!”

“But for how long?” Suguru whispers out, because he’s so scared that it’ll happen sooner rather than later.

One of these days Satoru will wake up and realise that Suguru is a nobody, that he’s like everyone else, and then he’ll turn away from him. For now, Suguru might have his love, but he doubts it’s going to be true for much longer.

“You do know that the guy quite literally has your wedding planned out, right?” Shoko wants to know and now that makes Suguru’s head snap up in surprise.

“What?” he breathes out and Shoko rolls her eyes at him.

“Remember that very first mission you were sent on?” she asks as if Suguru could ever forget any mission he was sent on together with Satoru.

“Of course I do.”

It was a relatively low-level curse, just something to test them and their teamwork barely two days after introducing them to each other and at that point Suguru had thought it went quite horribly. They had clashed more with each other than the curse, yelling insults across the field instead of fighting but of course in the end it had all worked out, just like it always does with them.

“After that mission he barged right in here and said ‘Shoko, I’m going to marry that guy’. It was the first full sentence he ever said to me that wasn’t dripping with condescension.”

“He was just joking,” Suguru whispers and this time when Shoko throws something at him he dodges it easily.

“Like hell he was. He hasn’t stopped talking about it since. If you think that guy is going to let you go, ever, then you’re thoroughly mistaken. I don’t think even death could make him part from you so I really don’t know what you’re on about when you say you’re losing your shine. To him, you’re not a goddamn toy he’s going to get bored of.”

It’s nice to hear, Suguru has to admit that but he can’t quite believe it.

“Are you sure?” He hates that his voice is shaking the tiniest bit, but the thought that one day Satoru could wake up and realise that he played with Suguru as much as he could, that Suguru is old news now has been eating away at him for a while now.

“Do I look like Gojo to you?” Shoko demands to know and Suguru frowns.

“Huh?”

“You really should talk about this with him, you know,” Shoko gives back and Suguru hates that she’s right but it’s not as if it’s that easy.

“So he can tell me that we’re not going to last sooner?” Suguru scoffs out and has to dive out of his seat when a whole tray of medical equipment comes flying his way.

“So he can put that stupid, overthinking brain of yours to rest and maybe propose in the same breath. Geto, seriously. Does he really strike you as the kind of person who’s just going to discard those he cares about?”

Suguru opens his mouth to answer with a resounding yes, but he knows that it’s unfair. Satoru might have child-like excitement for the most random things—sweets especially—but if he cares for someone he’s ride or die for them, no matter what. He might try to pretend that he isn’t, might joke and wave it off, but in the end he’d kill for all of them.

And that holds especially true for Suguru.

“No,” Suguru admits and Shoko nods.

“Exactly. And since my words can only hold so much weight in a relationship I’m not even involved in, maybe go talk to him now.”

“Ah, but Shoko, you’re our honorary third, don’t you know that?” Suguru jokes and Shoko makes an exaggerated retching sound.

“Gross. I want nothing to do with either of you,” she immediately replies and shoos him out of her space. “Now get lost, I’m sick and tired of your face.”

“You love my face, or otherwise you would have kicked me out the second I stepped foot into this room,” Suguru confidently says and knows he’s right when Shoko only rolls her eyes and turns her back on him.

“If you breathe a word of this to Gojo, I’ll dismember you. See how long it’ll take him to piece you back together,” she threatens and Suguru knows better than to test her patience past a certain limit.

“Alright, alright,” he easily says. “Thanks, Shoko.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles but waves at him over her shoulder so he knows she’s not really mad.

But now that he’s done here, that only leaves him with one thing to do: waiting for Satoru to come back, so he can talk to him.

~*~*~

It doesn’t take Satoru long at all to wrap up his mission—barely two hours—but it feels like an eternity to Suguru. It’s certainly long enough for him to change his mind several times and when Satoru finally bursts into his room, a happy smile on his face, Suguru still doesn’t know what he’s going to do now.

“Suguru!” Satoru cries out, and almost flies across the room to crash into Suguru. “I have missed you,” he says, just like he always does when a solo mission forces them apart and without a conscious thought, Suguru speaks.

“Are you going to get tired of me?” his mouth blurts out and Suguru wonders if there’s a curse in his arsenal that could swallow him whole, just to escape those wide, confused eyes that are now trained on him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Satoru demands to know, pulling far enough away to better glare at Suguru and then he reaches out to take his temperature. “Are you sick? Did you hit your head? What’s going on?”

“Shoko said you have our wedding planned out?” Suguru blurts out next and that’s not much better.

Satoru narrows his eyes at him.

“I don’t see how one relates to the other, and don’t think I forgot your previous question, but yes, I have,” he easily admits and takes the opportunity to topple Suguru over on the bed so he can better snuggle up to his side. “It’s going to be a fall wedding.”

“Why? You love spring. If anything it should be when the cherry blossoms bloom.”

“Too hard to plan for and besides. You love autumn. So it’s going to happen then.”

Satoru has his head pillowed on Suguru’s chest and almost on autopilot Suguru’s hand moves to scratch at his scalp, even as his chest feels close to bursting.

“Is there no doubt in your mind that we’re going to marry?” he asks after a short moment and Satoru makes a happy noise in the back of his throat.

“None.”

“How can you be so sure?” Suguru whispers out and now this prompts Satoru to turn his head so he can look at Suguru again.

“Easy. Because I love you.”

It’s not the first time Satoru has said it but it still takes Suguru’s breath away.

“Is it really that easy?” he mutters and Satoru frowns at him.

“Suguru, what’s going on?” he wants to know and rearranges himself so he’s laying on top of Suguru, his pointy chin almost painfully digging into his sternum.

Still, Suguru doesn’t push him off, too caught up in that gaze on him.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Suguru admits and Satoru gives him a cheeky smile.

“Always dangerous. You’re prone to too many thoughts.”

“Have to make up for the lack of thoughts in you,” Suguru immediately gives back, falling back into the banter as easy as breathing and some of the tension leaks out of him.

When Satoru’s eyes sparkle, Suguru knows that this was his intention all along.

“And now tell me what’s going to make you wrinkle before your time,” Satoru says and Suguru sighs.

“I’m wondering if you’re going to lose interest in me, one of these days. I’m a novelty for you, don’t think I forgot you said that, and I’m like a shiny new toy, but eventually you’ll get bored by me.”

Satoru blinks at him. And then he blinks some more.

“Say what now?” he eventually manages and Suguru bites at his lower lip.

“Satoru—”

“You think I see you as some kind of—what? Toy? Some new distraction, something to have fun with until you break?”

It’s basically just what Suguru said moments before and still his heart squeezes painfully in his chest when he hears Satoru talk like that.

“Yeah,” he admits, his voice just a whisper of a sound and Satoru’s eyes blaze in anger.

“You’re a goddamn fucking idiot,” he hisses out, digging his chin even more painfully into Suguru’s chest.

“Ouch, Satoru, stop that!”

“It’s what you deserve! I cannot believe you just said that!”

“Well, is it true?” Suguru demands to know and Satoru’s cursed energy flares as if he’s about to hollow purple Suguru into next life.

“It’s fucking not, and you know it!” he yells out and Suguru’s ears ring. “It’s not like that at all, why would you even say that?”

“I just—I don’t know,” Suguru admits, because he lacks the words to explain what’s going on in his head. “Why do you love me?”

“Because you’re you,” Satoru immediately says and that clears up exactly nothing. “How do I even explain this?” Satoru mutters before Suguru can say anything else. “It’s like—you don’t ask someone why they breathe air, right? It’s just what you do, because you need it to survive and it’s an instinct and there’s nothing in this world that could substitute that and you’re also never going to grow bored of it, or stop doing it because that would mean death. It’s the same with you.”

“The same with me?”

“Loving you is just what I do. There’s no reason for it, at least not just one. I just do. The moment I saw you I knew and then after that first mission I definitely knew. And it’s not just because you’re strong, or because you don’t take my shit, or you’re nice to me without the sickening sucking up my clan used to do, or because you’re hot as hell. It’s all of that together and then some,” Satoru tries to explain and in all honesty, it makes Suguru’s head spin.

“You’re worried that you can’t keep up, right, you said that last week, but Suguru. It’s not just your strength, it’s all of it, together. It’s all of you. And even if you weren’t as strong as me, you’d still be one of the strongest out there, so why would that even matter?”

It’s Suguru’s time to blink at Satoru now because how can he so easily cut through all of Suguru’s thoughts and hone in on the one thing that bugs Suguru to no end?

“A fall wedding, huh?” he says, because acknowledging everything else Satoru just said feels like too much at the moment and this, at least, makes Satoru smile again.

“A fall wedding,” he nods and then his face softens as he reaches out to cup Suguru’s face in his hand. “No more stupid thoughts, okay? I love you. I love you. And nothing is going to change that.”

“You know, if you could channel this eloquence for your essays, Yaga would yell less at you,” Suguru chokes out, desperate to lighten the mood because he feels as if he’s going to burst into tears any moment now.

“Yeah, well, I don’t love Yaga, so he can suck it up,” Satoru carelessly gives back and Suguru chuckles, his eyes still suspiciously wet. “Okay now?” Satoru then asks him and Suguru nods.

“Okay now,” he agrees because he is. “I love you, too, you know,” he adds, because somehow it feels as if he doesn’t say it enough but Satoru only gives him his brightest grin.

“I know. I definitely know. It’s in everything you do,” he says as if he never doubted that for even a single moment and now Suguru almost feels bad for doubting Satoru.

“It is,” he still agrees, because some days it feels as if he’s made out of love for Satoru, as if that’s his sole purpose for being and now he finally understands what Satoru was trying to say.

It’s the same for him.

“I’m sorry I’m being stupid,” Suguru whispers out, turning his head so he can press a kiss to Satoru’s palm.

“Apology accepted,” Satoru easily says, smirking at Suguru. “But if you doubt me or my love for you again, I’m going to be upset, just so you know.”

“It won’t happen again,” Suguru promises, because how can it, now that he finally understands? “I promise.”

“Good, good,” Satoru says and finally takes his chin out of Suguru’s chest, turning his head and rubbing his cheek against Suguru’s pec as if he’s a cat. “Now, can you please welcome me back home? I did just come back from a gruelling mission after all.”

A mission that took him less than three hours to clear but Suguru smiles indulgently at him anyway.

“Welcome home, Satoru. You did well,” he says, just like he always does when Satoru comes home and Suguru isn’t being too busy being stupid and Satoru makes a sound that could almost be classified as a purr.

“Mh, better,” he decides and presses a kiss to Suguru’s chest. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Suguru replies and he knows, deep down to his bones, that it’s true.

And that this is never going to change.

[rei-comfort-zone]

Just realised that the prev ask I sent wasn’t on anon sorry

Just wanted to say that I really love your art and the what you’ve shown of Fatima and Idrees’ relationship so far. Is it alright if I have a few questions about them?

How do you imagine Idrees and Fatima meeting and getting to know each other? Given the Taliban’s gender segregation and Idrees’ yearning for respect and power, it’d be hard for them to meet organically. I mostly imagine him finding love either after a time skip ,upon leaving the Taliban, or an arranged marriage, particularly if he ends up living with his wife’s family, since he’s the ‘grey rat’ of his family

Ngl this is a tangent but I want to think through the implications of Fatima and Idrees meeting through an arranged marriage. Do you have any headcanons for Fatima’s relationship with her parents? I’m imagining that, since Fatima is considered more than old enough to marry, was it a situation where her parents tried to delay her getting married, but needed more men in the house after her brother moved out?

I’m also thinking about what would make a family choose Idrees as the best available option for their daughter. Her family would have to search for a husband around her age and where she’d be the first wife. And maybe they worked out some terms in the nikah nama. But Idrees is kind of a mess? 😭 He’s a teenager quick to anger when he feels disrespected and sadistic toward anyone with less power than him

OMGGGGG THANKS BUT GOD IS A LOT OF GOD QUESTIONS BUT I DON'T HAVE MANY DRAWINGS TO REPLY EACH RAAAAH😭😭😭😭

So hope you don't mind I reply each one per parts

Btw thanks again ‼️‼️‼️‼️💖💖💖💖

I will reply the first one in here ! ! !

1- I personally see them getting to know each other by a small friendship between their moms before the Taliban was set, sometimes I also play along and set them to met once again like for a small occasion that Idrees passed by Fatima's father's shop and her father made some small talk, the usual asking about his family and stuff like that, Fatima was probably around since her father always takes her with him to accompany him in the shop to not feel alone, even when her older brother is around (fun fact: Fatima's older brother never got babied as much as her)

When talking about the Taliban's gender segregation I always thought that the only way Fatima or Idrees could talk or even interact slightly was when she was in her Father's shop, since she would always be accompanied by a guardian/male relative. But still is not like they would freely talk, if Idrees managed to get a permission of her father/brother to talk to her he would def be under supervission so yeah, it would be the most awkward conversation.

I also see early-meeting-again Fatima not taking shit from Idrees or even caring that much, she had gone through a lot to even care what he had to say at first so there was quite a tension. I haven't really develop completly how they fell in love or manage to be together due to social issues like the segregation but is probably NOT by an arranged marriage. Is a good idea thought but there's a big BUT-

Idrees is the last one on the list that Fatima's family would even choose at all to marry her😭😭😭

Fatima already got one to other proposals that her father denied, mostly by not fitting the expectations of who would be good to marry his eldest daughter or failing damm hard on even trying + social status

Then there's Hussein (another oc of the movie) who mess up big time because he is def NOT fit for the role, he is son of a local butcher, at first the proposal for an arranged marriage with Fatima was going good but dude haves many anger management issues, both her brother and father didn't take shit from him and deny his proposal, there's tension between the two families/business after that-...

[danvy121994]

promised pt 2

authors note: hello! sorry for being so inactive but I have lots of exams wright now and I managed to this chapter just yesterday. Hope you enjoy! <3

also I’m new to the world of fan fiction writhing so if anyone can tell me how to respond in the comments it would be amazing! also thanks everyone for the support!

anthony bridgerton x reader

synopsis: after the ceremony, you realise that you won’t be as sad as you thought you would be with the bridgerton

He couldn’t believe that in a week he would be wed to a woman he had never met, in fact he believed that if it wasn’t for that foolish pact that her mother had with her silly little friend, he would have wed sometime in his thirties, not out of love of course, he would have simply chosen the diamond of the season and marry her, it wouldn’t have been that hard since he’s a viscount, but of course his mother wasn’t really fond of his future projects even if over the course of the years his mother actually regretted the decision of marrying him of , or at least that’s what she said; but that now didn’t matter because he was in the only place in which he felt comfortable in past few weeks before the marriage, in his favorites mistress arms, on her bed, after a long night full of desire and longing, but even that couldn’t stop he’s thought on the matter, since he found out about the agreement he’s been asking around about the girl he was going to marry, her mother didn’t knew much she just told him that she was a very beautiful girl and that she was very polite and studious, but that was all she knew, and asking other gentlemen’s led him to nothing, for all he knew she lived on the country side, kind of isolated and has never interacted much with the ton, she appeared for the first time in London during her first season, in wich she got courted from a couple of gentlemen that were quickly sent away, but that was everything he knew, it wasn’t nothing of course, but still, he was marring a complete stranger.

“Come on brother! The worst that could happen its her looking like an ogre!”

needles to say that after sais comment, Colin Bridgerton got rightfully hit in the head by a flying fan, lady Danbury looked at the boy and with an offended tone replayed “ I’ve meet lady Y/S/N personally, and let me tall you, she’s a fantastic woman, she will integrate well with the family!”. Obviously out of all the people that he asked to he didn’t ask lady Danbury, of course! As soon has he got the courage of asking lady Dembury more about you, the priest informed him that the ceremony was starting and not long after the doors of the church opened, The Woman was walking arm in arm with who he supposed was her father, he was an interesting man, not handsome but not ugly, he also managed to have a look at her mother and for her age she wasn’t that displeasing, in fact she looked quite younger than his mother, maybe she was, considering that he didn’t know much about his spouse’s family either, he could only guess. As soon as she reached the altar both her and her father bowed, and since he is a gentleman he did the same, the Woman then stepped up the steps of the rostrum and positioned herself before him; she still had her veil covering her face but he could kind of see her face; and then she took it of. Anthony was pleased of the fact that at least he didn’t have to procreate and look at a hideous face for the rest of his life, in fact she was kind of pleasing to the eye, maybe even beautiful.

After the end of the ceremony he didn’t speak a single word to her, did he think she was ugly? If that was the case then maybe she was more free than she thought, she wouldn’t have to go through the whole horrible experience of having to bed with the Viscount and maybe he would only speak to her when necessary, maybe it was a good thing, she was thinking to herself whilst her mother and Lady Violet Bridgerton were speaking to one another, but that didn’t last long before she was whisked away from a pair of strong arm, when she turned, she saw a girl, a couple of years younger tha her and she was wearing the Bridgerton signature color, light blue, and beside her another girl, much shorter and with a bright yellow dress, that was quite inadequate to the occasion, after a litte bit of explaining you found out about their names, the girl in blu was named Eloise, the one in yellow Penelope Fethetington; the three of you started talking, and for once during the whole day you felt that you were in the wright place with the wright people, “ and I love her ok, but just because she was the diamond last season, now people have high expectations on me and I don’t wanna let them down” Eloise as been talking about this for about an hour, and you felt bad for her, you haven’t known her for long but could already tell how much her family didn’t understand her, from their eyes she was just a troubled girl who was looking for attention, and it couldn’t have been farther from the truth, as both you and Penelope were trying to help her speak of her emotions ,someone , who you recognised as one of the Bridgerton brothers since he was standing with the Viscount at the altar, came in the room in wich you girls were hiding, “ what are you girls doing?” Said the Bridgerton, “ our new Viscountess has to have a ball with Anthony to open the dances” he said looking at you “Of course, my apologies” you said and after bowing, you got whisked by said brother to dance in the arms of your husband.

(another) author note: Hi! I hope you are enjoying my story<3 I don’t know when I’m going to post the continue of this story, but as soon as I can i’ll start writhing again! also I was wondering if anyone would be interested in a mike schimit x reader fan fiction, maybe a one shot, let me know in the comments!

tag list: @khaylin27

[poems-and-cows]

Tw for spiralling and self deprecating language again. Also depression-like behaviour, and all the shitty coping mechanisms that come with it. I should probably bring that up to somebody. Oh, and abuse denial, that one’s a big one.

It’s not really spiralling if it’s all true, but whatever. It sounds like spiralling, and I’d rather not cause anyone else anymore issues. Same thing with ‘abuse denial’. It’s not denial if it was never abuse, but whatever. It sounds like it, so I’ll add a warning.

I didn’t do much today. Everyone’s texted me back now, but I can’t bring myself to reply or read it. Tim’s sent me 5 big paragraphs. Sasha and Jon have sent me one big one each.

I’m still in bed. I’ve only gotten up to go up the toilet and make a cup noodle. I’m so, so tired. It’s not just a normal tired, it’s deep down in my bones. I don’t think I could even get up if the kitchen set on fire.

I had to call Mum yesterday night. Usually I do so well at holding it together and trying not to cry, but not then. After everything that happened, and everything I realised, I just completely broke down at the first insult. She called me useless, and I just crumbled.

She’s right. She’s always been right. She wasn’t ‘verbally and physically abusive’ like that woman at school said, she just was trying to tell me how awful I was. I really was a bad son, wasn’t I? I couldn’t even care for her properly, after she gave me so much. She birthed me, gave me a house, gave me food, gave me a bed, and made sure I didn’t die. What did I do in return? Nothing. I deserved everything she did to me, it was just punishment. Harsh punishment was what I needed.

I’m sorry. You all don’t need this. I bet you read my blogs to get away from it all, and here I am making things worse for everybody. I’m sorry. You can click off if you want, and go to someone else’s blog. I’m sure they all have something interesting to say.

Listen to someone else rant, not a selfish prick who lied on his CV.

I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt that everyone left me, and I was all by myself. I woke up crying. My first instinct was to text Jon, to tell him all about it and ask him to come over. I couldn’t do that to him though. I wouldn’t make him come and console me over something I caused, over the consequences of my actions. He should leave me. He should leave me, but he’s too kind to, so I should leave so he doesn’t need to go to all the trouble.

I feel so greasy, and restless. I want to go out on a walk, I want to cook a meal, and I want to call a friend. I suppose I don’t have any friends anymore. It’s better that way, but it hurts. Still, that’s just the consequences of my own actions, and I need to live with it.

My bed feels dirty. I should wash my sheets, but I don’t have the energy. I feel so disgusting.

I’m nauseous when I think about something I don’t want to say here. It makes my skin crawl, and makes me want to crawl into a deep hole and never come out. I want to shower and scrub myself clean, but I don’t have the energy. I feel all sticky and greasy.

I’m scared of having another nightmare. I can’t sleep. I don’t want to see Jon’s disappointed face watching me from the foot of my bed as I ruin myself again. It’s an awful cycle, one that hurts so badly and makes me feel so sick.

I’m sorry I haven’t been answering all your lovely asks trying to console me. I really don’t deserve it, I can’t emphasise that enough, but thank you all the same. I’ve read them, I just don’t have the energy right now. You’re all so sweet, and I can’t thank you enough.

I’m going to try and sleep, and hope for the best. I think if I’m awake any longer I’ll tear off my skin. It itches all over, the way it does when you’ve been too still for too long.

I feel like a teenager again. Those where the darkest times of my life, and I always promised myself I’d never feel that way again.

I’m just going backwards in my progress, and it’s awful. I know recovery isn’t always just climbing upwards, but I really wish it was. I just want to feel okay, but I don’t deserve it. Punishment isn’t supposed to feel nice.

Why not humiliate myself more by admitting I’m clinging to a childhood teddy right now? Mum bought it me to shut me up. It’s the one I said raised me. It’s helping, I think.

Goodnight everybody. I hope you’re all doing well, and feel better than I do. You all deserve the world.