#and all of that coming to a head in hoh...

[riskylittleturtle]

Hear Me - Sylus

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Sylus x MC, Deaf/HoH MC, Fluff, use of Y/N once, gn MC

Sylus thinks you're ignoring him, but he can't think of what he's done to make you do so. A self-indulgent hard of hearing MC fic.

INFOLD having the option not to hear MC’s voice lines during dialogue (and the ability to adjust the voice settings itself) is amazing and I love it so much. LADs has pretty advanced technology, so we’re playing pretend that hearing aids mimic real hearing and let you hear in louder environments. At least to a better degree than real hearing aids do. 

Sylus doesn’t understand what it is he’s done to piss you off, but the silent treatment and pretending he doesn’t exist is starting to grate on his nerves. You’d been doing great recently, everything was going well. He can’t for the life of him figure out what happened between when you left for work this morning, kissing him on the cheek and smiling at him like he was the greatest treasure in the world, to now. 

Nothing out of the usual had happened, you’d texted him silly pictures of cats on your lunch break and come home only a half hour late because of some report you had to finish, and you’d texted him to tell him about that too. Crow emoji and all. Which is why he cannot, no matter how hard he tries, figure out what it is that's causing you to ignore him like he’s not even in the room with you. 

You’d give no reaction even as he tried baiting you, which was rarely the right choice when you were actually mad at him but he’d been in the same room with you for over an hour and you hadn’t looked at him once. Sylus wasn’t normally a desperate man. He was the leader of Onychinus and the N109 zone. He was filthy rich and had enough power to get whatever he wanted. Except for your attention, apparently. 

“Kitten.” Sylus tries for what must be the hundredth time, failing to keep the annoyance - read pout - out of his tone. 

You still don’t react, attention focused on whatever it is you’ve been looking at on your phone for almost two hours now. Sylus’ eyes narrow, and he stands up from his desk and stalks towards you, plucking your phone from your hand and holding it up above his head. 

“YN.” Sylus warns. 

You blink at him, smile faltering and shoulders hunching a little like you’re the one who’s been so desperately trying to get his attention for hours. Like he’s in the wrong for finally making you address him after you promised when you first started dating to talk about things that upset or annoyed you so they wouldn’t build up over time. 

“Sylus?” You ask slowly, staring at him like he’s the one who’s acting strange and just a little tiny part of him snaps. 

“Ignoring someone isn’t very nice.” Sylus says, your eyes narrowing a little as you stare firmly at his lips. 

“Ignoring you?” You repeat, slow, genuinely confused in a way that gives him pause. 

“I’ve been talking to you since you walked in, kitten.” Sylus points out, and you blink up at him, lips pouting a little and head tilting just slightly, unconsciously.

“During my mission today I got knocked into a fountain.” You tell him information he already knows from your texts, complaining about how embarrassing it was to have been knocked into a fountain by civilians while you were supposed to be taking care of wanderers. “My hearing aids got all water logged and I didn’t want to go out of my way to pick my backups up.”

Sylus stares, eyes widening minusculely and the firm line of his lips relaxing just slightly. It’s the most surprised you’ve ever seen him, and you stare, confused by his reaction. He doesn’t say anything, drops your phone on the couch next to you and carefully reaches his hand out to brush his fingers along the side of your jaw until his palms are pressing over your ears ever so lightly. 

“Sylus?” You probe, trying to figure out what this reaction means. 

“You wear hearing aids.” Sylus says softly, and you squint a little trying to read his lips, completely lost on the few sound cues you had before now that he’s covering your ears. “Since when have you…?”

Your eyes narrow slightly and you frown, gently pushing at his wrists. “Sylus, move your hands.” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Sylus asks as he withdraws his hands, watching your face carefully to see if he needs to repeat himself. 

“I thought you knew.” You shrug. “I can hear well enough with my hearing aids that they let me be a hunter, and I can usually hear your voice alright even without them when I’m facing you and there’s not too much background noise. Or when you aren’t covering my ears.”

The music that had been playing from Sylus’ record player stops with your words, his hands sliding from where they’d been resting on your shoulders to your hips as Sylus lifts you off the couch just long enough to sit down in your seat, settling you back on his lap. You stare at him, a little surprised he didn’t already know about your hearing loss and touched at the way he instantly accommodated you, like it was the obvious answer, like there wasn’t another option in his mind. 

“Has your hearing always been like that?” He wonders, careful like he’s not sure it’s a topic he can broach.

“It wasn’t always this bad.” You answer, settling your own arms around his shoulders to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “When I was a kid it was only really a problem when there were too many noises happening at once or higher pitched noises like from whistles. My hearing only really started deteriorating when I was 13 or so, there’s nothing medically they can do for me but get me tested for new hearing aids every so often. It got worse after the accident, sometimes my hearing just goes out completely and all I’m left with is a ringing in my ears, and without my hearing aids I can’t hear much of anything with my left ear.”

“Kieran and Luke always approach you from the right.” Sylus realises. 

“They thought you knew too.” You assure, not wanting Sylus to be upset with them. 

“Is there anything else?” Sylus asks, continuing when you tilt your head slightly. “Things that make it harder or easier for you to hear.” 

“It’s harder to hear sounds that come from behind me,” You start, and Sylus listens, nodding along to everything you say like he’s taking notes of it all. 

He probably is, already thinking about accommodations to make to the base so you’re more comfortable. You smile as you think of it, the natural way Sylus remembers things about you and the ease with which he makes adjustments for you before you’ve even asked. 

Sylus raises a brow as you smile suddenly, ducking his head down a little to catch your eyes. Your smile only widens as he does, and you settle more comfortably against him as you continue to talk, knowing even though you can’t hear your own voice that Sylus is hanging onto every word, listening to it for the both of you.

[ofswordsandpens]

im so here for the interpretation that even though the Little Tiber washed away Percy's invulnerability and weak spot, Percy still has his increased strength, power, and stamina from the curse and is steadily burning away at his mortality and only now thinks he's not

[wysteria-bloom]

↪" you amaze me "

Bg3 x reader

Giving them a surprise kiss

Warnings : suggestive on Halsin's part... Spoilers for bg3 (duh).

Genre : fluff

A/n : I have 367 hours in this game so I believe that I am worthy enough to write for these characters I love so very much. I am extremely open to requests for bg3 please send me all the stuff you want to see! I'm not gonna include minsc and jaehira for obvious reasons.

Characters : halsin, astarion, wyll, gale, gortash, rolan, raphael

▢ astarion

Leans into the kiss almost immediately. Its usually how he responds to any affection coming from you. Rests a gentle hand on your arm as he deepens the kiss with a pleased little smile on his lips.

When you break from the kiss, still has the smile on his lips, his eyes looking down at you softly, " can't get enough of me, darling?" He cooed out teasingly, a giddiness to him that wasn't there a few minutes ago.

You nip his jaw," stop getting cocky. I caught you off-gaurd, admit it."

He gasped in offence," and here I thought my beautiful partner was merely expressing how much they loved me." Shaking his head at you with an exagerrated pout," shame on you."

"... That's a 'yes'." You smirked.

"Oh shut up," pulls you into another kiss full of laughter.

▢ gale

Blinks for a good 5 seconds before finally responding to the kiss in full, hand curling through your hair to cup the back of your head. A wistful sigh blows through his nose as he leans into the kiss more.

When you pull away, he still holds your head. You smile happily at him," Hello, love." You greet cutely.

Sends you a bashful little smile, pressing his forehead to yours," Well... hello to you too."

"Were you surprised?"

"Oh-hoh?" He grinned with amusement," there was a goal behind all this?"

You tilt your head from side to side," eh... I did have one. But I also just wanted to kiss my handsome husband."

Clears his throat, cheeks warming," Oh, well consider me th..thoroughly surprised, then."

▢ wyll

It only takes him a second to respond to your kiss, cupping both sides of your face so gently and rubbing a thumb across your jawline. A small happy hum falls from his lips as he's kissing you.

When pulling away, his lips chase after yours, giving you a final little peck," You amaze me. Everytime." He breathed out, always has something cheesy to say after every kiss but it never fails to make your heart stutter.

You huff," You're impossible to surprise, yknow? You're too smooth."

He laughs," will it make you feel better if I said you gave me butterflies?"

A hum and then a smile you nodded to him," I believe that's substantial. However, you need to pay for your indiscretions with a kiss."

"Whatever will I do?" Wyll leans down, nose pressing against yours," I have no choice but to give in, hm?"

"No choice." You agreed, hands moving to his waist as he cups your face.

He presses his lips to yours excitedly.

▢ gortash

He's doing some paperwork when you give him a little kiss on the cheek. Not reacting at first, he finished his signature before looking up at you, a softness to his eyes," Can I help you?"

You merely give him an innocent smile," just reminding you that I love you."

He blinks for a moment before he hums, a slow grin reaching his lips," I see.." He places a hand to your hip, rubbing it slowly with a thumb," Well, I fear I need another reminder then, my dear."

"Greedy," You cooed out before pressing a proper kiss to his lips.

▢ raphael

Is certainly shocked for a split second. He was only telling you about a recent poem he had read and enjoyed.

He cups the back of your neck with his clawed hand, deepening the kiss with huff of amusement. Before breaking the kiss he nips at your bottom lip with his sharp teeth," It's rude to interrupt."

You hum, pressing another kiss to his jaw," You're too endearing when you talk about your poems." You reply honestly.

"Oh good, I was afraid I was boring you." No, he wasn't. He knew how engaged you got in his little speils. That was endearing.

"You could never." He drags you into another kiss with a lot more flames stoked beneath it.

▢ halsin

A low hum of surprise and then a slow smile reaches his lips. His large hands rest on your waist as he deepens this kiss, feeling heat build between the two of you the more passionate it grows.

When you pull away from eachother there's a trail of saliva left between your lips. His eyes are a lot darker now, a yellow shine to them," is there something you need, my heart?" He questioned with that low tone of his.

"Just you."

Pins you to a nearby tree and kisses your neck," that I'll give you in abundance."

▢ rolan

Was in the middle of complaining to you about how you put a book in the wrong place. He had that cute little frown on his face, the grouchy furrow to his brows and the agitated swish of his tail.

You just couldn't help yourself. Leaning forwards, you caught his lips with yours, making him shut up completely. He stared down at you with wide eyes before he moans a little and leans into the kiss.

His tail curls around your leg, dragging you closer to him as he leaned back against the bookcase behind him.

When you pulled away for a breath, he still had his eyes closed for a good five seconds.

Looks into your eyes for a moment before he cups your jaw," you can't kiss your way through an argument." He huffs out.

"I just did."

"Did you? What if I'm still mad at you?"

You grinned at him," Your tail says otherwise, love."

He scoffed and tried to frown but his lips kept twitching," You're impossible." Pulls you into a more heated kiss, arms wrapping around you protectively.

[dioslesbianwife]

Hi!! I hope you're well!! Can I request the jofoes reactions to reader coming up behind them and kissing the back of their necks💖💖🥴 (with p1 and p3 Dio pls).

Thank you!

sure! thank you for requesting and i hope u enjoy 🩷

Dio Brando (Part 1)

Immediate pause.

This man does not get surprised easily, yet here he is frozen.

Slowly turns his head to look at you over his shoulder. Eyes sharp, unreadable.

Then, a low chuckle. "My, my… bold, aren’t you?"

Grabs your wrist and pulls you in front of him, tilting your chin up.

"If you wanted my attention, you only had to ask."

DIO (Part 3)

Instant smirk.

"Hmph. That was a mistake, my dear."

Turns around immediately and cages you in.

"Do you think you can toy with me like that?" His voice is low, almost teasing.

Will get revenge. He grabs your chin and presses a slow kiss to your lips, just to one-up you.

You started this game. Now deal with it.

Kars

Doesn’t even flinch.

He just lets out a deep, amused hum.

"Hmm… You dare approach me from behind?"

Turns around at an agonizingly slow pace. His stare? Deadly intense.

"I suppose you are feeling brave today."

Absolutely takes control of the situation. Pins you against something and returns the favor but worse.

Wamuu

Shivers. His body reacts before his mind does.

Immediately tenses. It’s not out of dislike, he just wasn’t expecting it.

"What was that for?" His tone is more curious than upset.

When you tease him about it, he narrows his eyes but doesn’t stop you from doing it again.

If you keep it up, he will eventually return the favor. Maybe not with a kiss, but he will find a way.

Esidisi

Oh? Oh? OH?

This man is dramatic as hell. Expect an audible reaction.

"What a daring little thing you are!"

Immediately spins around and traps you in a hug. You are not escaping.

"Did you think I would let you get away with that?" 

Teases you relentlessly. Probably peppers your entire neck with kisses just to make you squirm.

Yoshikage Kira

Internally panicking.

He wants to act composed, but his brain short-circuits.

"Hoh… That was… unexpected."

Coughs into his fist. His ears? Bright pink.

Pretends he isn’t affected. But the next time you do it he subtly leans into it.

Gets attached to the feeling but would never admit it.

Diavolo

Immediately on edge.

This man is paranoid as hell, so he almost reacts violently until he realizes it’s you.

Deep exhale. "You shouldn’t do that."

But his low voice betrays him. He liked it.

Grabs your wrist before you can leave.

"…Do it again."

Doppio

Chokes on air.

"H-Hey???"

Face = bright red.

Hands fly to his neck. 

Spins around and stares at you, flustered beyond belief.

If you tease him, he’ll get defensive.

If you do it again, he literally melts. Like, his brain stops working.

Enrico Pucci

Sharp inhale.

Body tenses completely. You can feel it.

"What… do you think you’re doing?"

Glares at you- but he’s also trying to hide his reaction.

If you try to play it off, he narrows his eyes.

"I expect an explanation." (But he doesn’t actually stop you from doing it again.)

Funny Valentine

Visibly pauses.

Then a slow, deep chuckle.

"How unexpected… and yet…"

Turns around and gazes at you intensely. His hand cups your cheek.

"If you insist on playing these games, I might as well indulge you…"

He kisses the corner of your lips, just to tease you back.

Diego Brando

Immediate sharp inhale.

He tenses, but only for a second.

Then, he smirks.

"Oh? Feeling affectionate today?"

Turns around and leans in dangerously close. "If you wanted my attention, you could’ve just asked."

He absolutely retaliates. Pulls you into his lap and runs his lips over your throat just to get even.

Tooru

Smug little shit.

"Oh? What’s this?"

Turns around with the raised brows. He is absolutely loving this.

"I didn’t know you were so bold."

Immediately kisses your forehead like it’s some kind of trade-off.

You just fueled his ego. He will now expect you to do this all the time.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

howdy! give it to me straight, sex witch: how important is it to set up a safeword if you’re not planning on doing something like cnc? i have been doing some recreational sex ed reading/watching, as one does, and a couple of things have put specific emphasis on the importance of having a safeword that isn’t just ‘no’ or ‘stop’, which kind of confused me. isn’t that only a problem if you specifically want to be able to say no/stop but actually keep going? i’m unclear if this is just personal preference or if i’m missing something. thanks!

hi anon,

a safe word (or other, nonverbal means of indicating a need to stop, such as tapping a partner's arm or snapping your fingers) is primarily important in situations where there's a potential to misunderstand the meaning of words that might generally mean stop.

so, for instance, a scene in which the people involved are roleplaying a scene in which one character is reluctant or being violated can benefit from having a clear word to differentiate between "I'm saying stop because we're playing Noncon Alien Sex Probe and that's part of the game" and "I'm saying stop because something actually hurts for real and we need to take a time out."

it can also be helpful if one partner has a tendency to say things that could be taken as requests to stop even when what they're trying to express is enjoyment, whether the sex is particularly kinky or not. squealing a playful "stop it" when a partner's touch makes them ticklish and squirmy, gasping out a "no" to indicate that they don't want a partner to stop touching the exact place they're touching. these are totally harmless misunderstandings, but could still cause confusion in the moment, so some folks might want to circumvent them by establishing specific words that have no ambiguity. if "no" or "stop" are used frequently enough to cause confusion, a word like "guacamole" or "barracuda" that's unlikely to come up during sex could be a handy solution to make sure both partners know what's being conveyed.

as I noted at the start of the ask, safe words don't actually have to be verbally spoken words. anything sufficiently disruptive to how you'd usually be having sex can suffice to serve as a "get your head in the game" warning to a partner and indicate that they need to pump the breaks immediately. these be handy in instances where some partners are Deaf/HoH, always or sometimes nonverbal, or just in situation where a partner has something sexy preventing them from speaking, but there's no reason this method can't be adopted by anyone looking for expansive safe word options!

does everyone need a safe word every single time they have sex? not really; I've personally never been in a scenario where a "whoa hey back up, let's not do that actually" or even just an "oof, not that" wouldn't be received loud and clear (although that may be because my sex life tends to be as conversational and laid back as my blog). the point being, it's up to you to decide if it's a tool that's relevant to you! if it would make you feel better to have a safe word in your back pocket, just in case, then by all means establish one! if you don't see the applicability, then leave it! it's up to you to decide what fits right!

[reader-from-nowhere]

Hoh boy, another part? It's so over. This au is by the great @yuukirita! Check out their stuff!! Part 1 here :)

_______________________________

The first thing he felt upon waking up was that it was unreasonably cold. That and it was really, really dark. Bright blue optics blink, adjusting to the sight of the mouth of a trash chute, at least, that’s what he thinks is one.

Seeing as something is falling rapidly down and heading right towards him at max speed.

Wait. “OWW!” Metal hits metal, the sound echoes across the empty, dusty place, bouncing off the walls.

He held his face, the pain flared up multiple warning pop-ups, notifying him of the damage. He shifted upright, with another sudden flare of pain, felt something hitting his shoulder pad and falling down next to his hand with a small ‘clank’. Looking down, lo and behold, a yellow triangle-shaped piece of metal laid there.

A hand shot up his head to check, patting around, he felt another similarly shaped thing on the left side, nothing on the other side. Damn.

He sniffs, optics blurring with tears threatening to fall at any point.

It’s just a small little piece, sure, but it hurts. Ridiculous, really, he shouldn’t be tearing up at this, especially when he should’ve seen that junk falling down coming.

Wait, but how would he even know that?

He knows that, he knows this place.

Quickly, he decides to get out of the bin, you know, before another piece of trash comes down and knocks out the remaining triangle thing on his head.

He reached up at the rim of the trash bin and hauls himself out, landing on the ground with a huff. Just in time to hear another loud slam of trash falling down, hitting at where he had initially activated, phew.

Looking around, with every movement, he kicked up more and more dust from the floor. He sneezed and scrambled upright, stumbling a few times whilst trying to get used to his new, shaky limbs. Why is even standing difficult?

He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know a lot of things. Like his name, for example. Or designation, what does that word even mean? That’s a long word, feels something like a name, but not really. What he does know, though, is that he is familiar with this place.

As he stumbled about, his bright, round optics awed at everything, eventually reaching a tall, looming door blocking the way out (?). It looks worn down, dented in many places and looking like someone rammed multiple times into the center of it, creating a small crack at the bottom corner.

He blinked, looking up, the panel next to the half-destroyed door was way too high up for him to reach, what would he even put in it anyways?

How does he even know what that is?

What the pit is going ON?

Letting out a frustrated sound, he crouched down on the dirt ground and squeezed his body through the crack, scratching the yellow paint on his body in the process, not that he minds.

With a few more wiggling, he finally got himself out and through the other side. He huffed, blowing the dust that is floating around away as he stands up, exploring the new area he just got access to.

It’s…the exact same as the other room. Blank, gray walls, looking old and in a similar state with the door. There were a few pictures lining the right wall, this time, all plastered with a blue and golden mech grinning and throwing a thumbs-up. He stares at the words along the pictures, ’Work hard for the Iacon cause!’.

Which, disappointing, but not too bad, he presumed. Pretty boring, if someone asks him.

And empty, and lonely. Cold, quiet.

He found that he hated the silence.

Luckily, he didn’t need to deal with the quietness for too long, because a voice rang out, jolting him into a squeak.

“Bee?”

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 14)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

(A/N: I know Lute wields a sword. I changed it because.)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“Take your hands off of her!” Lucifer’s command was 7 layers of demonic, loud and deep enough to make the clouds quiver. 

Still, Adam held fast to you until you managed to free one arm and slam your elbow into his gut.

“Fuck! Bitch!” He dropped you to the ground, sneering down at you briefly. You bared your teeth, pushing yourself up to barrel into the odious First Man, only to stagger at the impact of someone’s boot colliding with your hip.

“No! ” Lucifer roared, metal scraping beneath his growing claws.  

You fell back to the floor with a cry, pain exploding across your left side. Lute bore a hole into you with her gaze, glowing gold as a jungle cat’s while she kept you pinned by the shoulder with her spear.

“Stay down.” She smirked as you struggled to face her from beneath her weight.

“Fuck you!” You spat. 

“Wa-hoh! Mouthy now aren’tcha?” Adam teased, his eyes still locked on Lucifer tearing at the gate. “This really is your bitch, huh? All bark, no respect.” 

Lucifer snarled, smoke trailing from behind his pointed teeth. “Let. Her. Go.” 

“Or what, little man? Look around. You’re in no position to be making threats.” Adam scoffed, drawing closer and closer to the King of Hell. “You think you can tear down this gate designed to keep you out.” 

As if on cue, the mutilated poles and slats of Heaven’s gate began to reform. They straightened like an unbothered water stream over jagged rocks, until they once again gleamed unbent and reinforced. 

Through the haze of pain and mist rolling from the ground, you could just make out the crowd of angels that had been your audience. There was shuffling, latent gasping, and you could see a rainbow of expressions taking in the scene you were a part of. Yet no one was coming to your aid. No one did so much as protest the sudden violence in their midst. 

You slid a hand out from where it’d been trapped beneath your stomach, reaching out to implore someone for help. No one rushed to your aid, though you had caught the express attention of a few. One in particular — an Angel with rotating rings embedded with eyes for a head — looked at you in what you guessed was shock. 

“Please,” You pleaded. “Don’t let them do this.” 

The angel stalled, frozen at being addressed. One of their blue hands rose halfway, as if to take your shaking hand, but the hesitation remained. Lute instantly drove the spear’s end deeper into your skin, making you yelp and startling the angel back several steps. 

Why was everyone in Heaven so useless???

Lucifer cast a fleeting glance at the sea of ethereal beings that he’d once called family. Their horror meant very little to him — but they were so afraid of him that they refused to help you as you were assaulted in the holy land. 

     The fact that Adam was right — that Lucifer would claw at the gate as much as he wanted but not break through — only added to his abject helplessness and despair.

     Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think of a solution before your cry set every nerve in his body alight. Until he wrangled the bars of the once damaged gate again, fruitlessly. The blond swerved up, down and sideways to try and see you, his heart lodged in his throat as Adam’s hulking form blocked you from sight. 

“Please. Stop hurting her.” Lucifer begged in his panic. “Please! I just came up here to make sure she was safe!” 

“Well looks like you fucked that up royally.” Adam snarked. “That’s what you’re best at though, isn’t it?” 

He held Lucifer’s gaze, something like genuine hatred hidden behind that thin veneer of grandiose arrogance. 

    It brought back memories long buried beneath the millennia of Lucifer’s self-loathing. Back when the pain of a broken heart was still fresh and waking each day was akin to bleeding out until there was no feeling left in his limbs. 

Eve gave him a last, discerning look. She placed a hand on his cheek and gave him a half-smile, reminiscent of the ones he’d been graced with after his magic tricks. 

“I love you, Lucifer.” She , basking in his soft grin for just a  longer. 

“But…” A shadow passed over her face. “I can’t go with you.” 

“Eve?” Lucifer’s voice was small to his own ears. 

Her lilac eyes crumpled, smile thinning. She stroked her thumb over the red blush permanently painted on his face, forever signifying joyfulness. It contrasted terribly with the way his face fell as Eve moved away from him. 

“I’m so sorry.” She  with a shuddering breath.

Her hand disappeared from his face, leaving him cold and crestfallen. 

She turned her back on him to walk to the other man waiting at Eden’s entrance. 

     Adam smirked, pulling her with him with the gate swinging back. He looked back at Lucifer, smug save for the twinkle behind his eyes that would swell and grow with unbridled resentment. 

“She’s innocent.” Lucifer looked up at the first man, feeling numb. “Whatever you have against me has nothing to do with her.” 

Adam glowered. “Nobody that fucks with you is innocent.” 

—

Emily’s wings sliced through the air as rapidly as a hummingbird’s would. She’d never tasted anxiety like this before, and decided it was the worst flavor imaginable as she raced through the labyrinth of Heaven’s capitol. 

It was a wonder that Sera had not been the first on the scene when Lucifer himself appeared. Not for the first time, the smaller seraphim wished she had a better understanding of the inner workings of Heaven’s bureaucratic system, and if there was some line of work that could keep Sera in the dark about something so monumental happening just outside paradise. 

      She’d never say it out loud, but Emily was getting tired of being told that she’d learn everything in time. 

Bursting through the War Room for the second time in a day, Emily made quick work of scanning the surroundings. The strategy table was dim, unused. It made the seraphim bite her lip as her anxiety spiked. She had already checked the grand council auditorium, the library, the commencement hall — Sera was nowhere to be found. 

Emily wrung her hands together. 

Had she somehow missed the presence of her greatest friend and mentor in the disarray?!

            Please Guide Us With Your Wisdom

                         Answer My Call

                              Father 

                     Help Me Understand 

Emily froze, arily spellbound by the pull of ancient beyond ancient energy pulsing nearby. 

— 

You groaned. The pain in your back was now shooting up your spine, overtaking the sting of Lute’s spear digging into your side. It was starting to freak you out, as the dissonant feelings of true hurt and spine-tingling reacted together and kept you wriggling on the floor. 

     Lute refused to budge, snorting at your desperation. 

“You’re wasting your time.” She stated matter-of-factly. “Filthy sinners like you are the weakest of the weak. Trying to worm your way out of your own fate.”

The heel of her boot rose just to join the spear in crushing your body. Your moan turned into a whimper as she twisted her foot in your back, as if you were a cigarette butt to stomp out. 

“Or is squirming like a pathetic maggot under your betters what turns sluts like you on?” She was in your face, having bent over to taunt you 

The question was so absurd that it stopped you dead, pain taking a backseat to it. Your eyes bulged out as you regarded her in disbelief.

“No.” Your lips turned up in disgust. “But the fact that you brought that up as a possibility is making me wonder if you’re getting turned on right now?” 

Lute clucked her tongue, chiding you. “Typical of your kind, twisting the truth to cloud the mind with unholy thoughts.” 

Your jaw dropped open as you squinted at the Lieutenant. 

“You’re the one that brought it up!” Your legs kicked and scraped against the floor with your sudden burst of energy. “You fuckin’ weirdo!” 

“That’s rich comin’ from you!” Adam hollered. He had the gall to turn away from a shamefaced Lucifer to look down at you with digitized eyes. “The freaky fuck that literally had the Devil’s dick in her mouth all day every day!” 

     Lute snickered as if her superior had  the funniest thing ever. It had you grimacing while saliva pooled in your mouth. 

“Think about that a lot, do you?” You asked, wincing. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous.” 

“Bitch you wish you could get this dick. Every bitch wishes they could get a piece of this.” Adam retorted cockily. “It is a shame though — if you didn’t fuck yourself on his cock and get yourself killed, I might’ve rocked your world.”

Lute hissed as you met his declaration with a peel of laughter, put off as your frame shook. 

“No need.” You tittered. “Eve made it clear that I wouldn’t be missing much.” 

Something in the air seemed to change at that, as Adam’s grin deflated. “What did you fuckin’ say?” 

Laughing burned your lungs, but you did so with as much gusto as you could muster. 

“Yeah.” You . “You know, Eve? Your wife? The one you left so unsatisfied she was tempted by an adorable snake to abandon you? I think I can take her word for it that you’re not the best lay —”

“You shut your whore mouth right fucking now.” Adam was looming over you in a flash, gritting his static teeth at your mocking expression. “Or I’ll —”

“Or you’ll what?” You jeered. “Keep projecting?”

Adam chuckle was far less boisterous than it had been before as he sank down to your level. 

“I don’t think you get it, cuntbag. You’re in my house. And your little devil dildo over there,” Adam gestured vaguely to Lucifer, then to the rest of Heaven before him. “Ain’t got any power up here.” 

Pressure mounted in your trapezius as Adam pulled you up and close by the jaw. You breathed in the irony burn of circuitry as you were forcibly pressed against Adam’s mask. 

“So why don’t you be a good girl and shut the fuck up before you get yourself smited?” 

Adam tilted his head, as if just now hearing himself talk. “Smited? Smit? Smoted? How the fuck do you say that?” 

“It’s a mystery, sir.” You heard Lute somewhere outside of the blood roaring in your ears. 

Your wings ripped through your skin as though it were paper, sprouting up like the trunk of a great oak tree without regard for anything in its path. 

Lute shouted in surprise as she was catapulted away from you and back into the shrieking crowd, rushing to get out of the way of the projectile exterminator. Your wings knocked her clear out, and the sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, but you lept to your feet as soon as she disappeared. 

Adam exclaimed in surprise at the same time you spied the fallen lieutenant’s spear and snatched it up.  

Hefting it up like a baseball bat, you took a swing and slammed it against the side of Adam’s head. He pitched to one side with a curse, one hand coming up to cradle beneath his horns when you smacked him again. Your adrenaline had spiked, giving you enough strength to whack the stupid thing off with a third strike. 

“What the fuck? What the fuck?!” Adam’s voice lost its booming quality as he was revealed. But there was no time to take in just how pathetically unimpressive he appeared beneath all the angelic garb.

      You wasted no time racing toward Lucifer who, to say looked stunned would be an understatement, and clung to the gate. Your graceless crash seemed to snap him out of his trance, and the peculiar feeling of his still dagger-like claws desperately felt for your hands. 

Your name tumbled from his lips, as honeyed and reverent as a devoted follower looking upon God himself. 

“I love you!” The words were out of your mouth, finally. “I love you. I love you. I love you!” 

His gaze was nearly back to normal, but at their most demonic they still shone with awe. Lucifer’s soft inhale would’ve made you weep had he not suddenly looked behind you in horror. 

“Look out!” There was a split second between his scream, his aggressive tugging as if to pull you through the metallic frames, and your glance back to see the edge of an ax headed right for you. 

Your wing missed being cleaved by a fraction of an inch, fingers unlatching from the gate just in time to avoid being chopped off. 

    You and Lucifer pulled back from each other as the bizarre hybrid weapon scraped against the gilded post between you. The force of it resulted in sparks cast off and into the clouds below. 

Adam’s bulk was frightfully close, his human face twisted in an ugly rage. His arms retracted, guitar-ax rising to once again swing down on you as you skidded backward. 

“Fuck the ‘forgive and forget’ bullshit!” The first man sounded crazed. His eyes were blazing as he targeted you with another swipe. “I knew you were gonna mess everything up as soon as you got here, just like the ungrateful whore you are!” 

‘Jesus Christ.’ You might’ve raised an eyebrow if things were less dire. ‘I was half serious about the whole projecting thing. Damn.’

                                 “ADAM!”

The voice from on high thundered, prying you and Adam from your dual to stare at the source. 

Sera descended upon Heaven’s plane, and you noticed minutely that Emily was beside her, fumbling her fingers together as the crowd of her kin parted like the Red Sea to let them through. 

“Enough of this! You will invoke His wrath upon us all if this continues!” Sera thundered. 

      Lute was fighting against some invisible restraint like a fly in a spider’s web at her right, golden eyes screaming as they flit around to take in the scene she was thrown from. 

You and Adam remained at a standstill, both of you panting heavily as the magnitude of what you’d done caught up with you. You yourself could scarcely believe you’d managed to hold your own as well as you did. 

“She… fuck…” Adam sucked in a deep breath. “She brought him here. She fuckin’ brought Evil to our door! And you let her!” 

“I said enough.” Sera responded. “This has gone too far. Cast your weapons to the side.” 

The Seraphim’s eyes cut from Adam to you, gripping Lute’s spear with shaking hands. 

After a long, tense pause, you dropped the spear and kicked it away. Adam remained petulant until Sera moved to stride over and take the ax-guitar. He tossed it away as if anyone else touching the thing was unthinkable. 

The glorious Seraphim kept stalwart and tall, though her out-of-place curls and stormy eyes betrayed that she was put out. It felt wrong to see her that way. 

“Go to Lucifer.” 

You blinked up at her. 

“And bid him goodbye. Forever.” 

You trembled like you’d been doused in ice water, spear falling to the ground. Internally you wanted to scream at the mere prospect of being separated from Lucifer. Again. 

    Never seeing him again was logical. It was the only conclusion to all of this, really. But unlike before, when you could convince herself that missing him was enough, Lucifer was within reach. 

The line of your mouth trembled, eyes growing wet and glassy. The shake of your head when you couldn’t utter the word ‘no’ was pointedly ignored by Sera. She stood like a mountain, waiting for you to obey. 

Your name was called, and you pivoted to see Lucifer. He was smiling softly, it too trembling as he waited outside the gateway where you and Adam had migrated closer to in your fight. 

       Lucifer beckoned you with an outstretched hand, reaching into a viper’s den to bring you close again. Tears pooled from your eyes and trailed down your cheeks as you made your way toward him on shaky legs. 

You paused before walking past the gold and platinum ax that sparkled in the corner of your eye. 

“She can’t do it.” Adam accused behind your back. “She can’t fucking do it! She can spread her legs for the root of all Evil, but she can’t even —”

Was it possible?

To black out for ten seconds?

Fuck if you knew. 

It only became apparent that you’d turned round with Adam’s guitar in both hands after it was far, far too late.

     The ax cut through balmy air, glittering in the omnipresent sunlight before it hit its mark. Golden blood spurt in all directions, splashing over your face, neck and shoulders. Some of it burst into your mouth, gaping as you realized what you’d just done. 

     Adam’s headless body continued to stand upright for several seconds before it collapsed at your feet. 

*

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[lilislegacy]

Okay, I’ve been thinking about something lately

All the time I see people make statements about Percy that start with “Percy would never…”

Some examples I’ve seen: “percy would never kill someone/something in front of his mom” “percy would never yell at someone he loves” “percy would never get drunk” “percy would never let his child go to camp-half blood”

Now if you passionately believe one of those, hear me out. I’m not necessarily saying I disagree!

I’m saying… who would have ever thought Percy would torture a goddess and choke her on her own poison? And…. enjoy doing it? If someone had said that on tumblr pre-HoH, every single comment and reblog would have been “PERCY WOULD NEVER!!” I mean, who would have thought Percy would do a million things he’s done? He’s done some very not so ‘silly little guy’ stuff. He is an extremely complex character. In his own head and to some people, he’s sweet and fun and silly, but to many people he’s reckless and scary and dangerous. Some people see him as someone who’s very gentle and relaxed, but some people see him as someone who’s quick to get very angry and cause destruction. And the truth is, he’s all of it. It depends on his mood. Consistency does not apply to him in many aspects. He has consistent traits, like loyalty, humor, and bravery, but his actual actions and reactions are NOT consistent. I understand why we think Percy would never do certain things. We think we know based off of his past and his history with his mom, or with Gabe, or with Luke. And I’m not saying I think he would do those things, but unless he specifically states it, we can NOT, ever, infer what Percy Jackson might or might not do.

Like for instance, the drinking thing. I am not saying percy would be a big drinker, if one at all. And he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer because of how the apartment used to smell when he was young. But we have no evidence that Percy associates all alcohol with Gabe. Alcoholic drinks aren’t just foul smelling hard liquors. There are a million different forms that you can consume alcohol in - some of which don’t even smell like alcohol, and barely taste like it. And in The Chalice of the Gods, it’s said that Sally drinks a glass of wine every night. And Percy thinks Sally hangs the freaking moon. So if his mom drinks, he definitely doesn’t believe that alcoholic beverages = the enemy. And here’s the thing, if Annabeth and Piper and Leo were all drinking and having a good time, like college students do, and they go “Hey Percy, come sit and have a drink with us!” there’s a very good chance that he’s so comfortable with his best friends, and just wants to let loose and be a college kid, that he wouldn’t even think about Gabe. He’d just be like “Sounds fun! Count me in!” But I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t know. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. I truly think it could go either way. And even if he does drink, maybe he never - not even once - gets drunk. Maybe he’d drink in college and as a young adult, but when he becomes a father one day, he decides he doesn’t want his children to ever smell so much as a drop of alcohol on his breath, and therefore completely stops drinking. Or maybe he doesn’t ever like it, even in college. Or maybe he’s like his mom, and he and Annabeth just have a glass of wine with dinner. Who knows?

Not us. That’s what I’m saying. WE don’t know.

I’m not saying we can’t have headcanons based on what we know about him. I have a million. But the point is, I feel like we can’t try to pretend like we actually know what Percy wouldn’t do. As a fandom, we analyze him and his choices WAY more than he ever thinks about a single choice. He definitely does not think about his life and his actions as much as we do. (I’m not saying that he’s dumb or doesn’t contemplate his life and his actions, but he doesn’t nearly do it to the degree that we do.) Us, we pretend like it’s simple math. (Our first mistake, since math is consistent and full of rules, which is the exact opposite of Percy’s character.) We go “okay luke did this and gabe did this so therefore percy would never do this.” But Percy doesn’t think that way most of the time, especially not in heat of the moment matters. The only thing we 100% know about Percy is that he will always be loyal to his loved ones. But even then, we don’t know what that loyalty will look like. Is it sacrificing himself for someone? Is it murdering the enemy? Is it manipulating someone else? Percy lives in the moment. He doesn’t often think too much before he acts. He just acts. Whether it’s in a life of death situation, or his after school activity for the day. He is unpredictable, like the ocean. It’s one of his defining traits.

Honestly, I think that’s why annabeth is so drawn to him. With everyone else, she can read them super easily and know their next move. But with Percy, she has no idea. Which is frustrating to her, but also exciting. It’s a big part of her initial attraction to him. It’s also why many of us like him so much. We don’t know what’s coming next, and we never know what he will do in a situation. Like, how could we possibly know what he would or wouldn’t do when HE doesn’t even know? Half the time I don’t think Rick himself even knows.

We become so sure that Percy wouldn’t do something because we understand his character so well, right? But I think the truth is, the minute we become certain about what Percy would or wouldn’t do, is the minute we don’t understand his character at all.

Thank you for reading my analysis of Percy on why we can’t reliably analyze Percy

[reveryfics]

hi hi hi

rick grimes and male reader from another settlement?? something similar to the saviors, just, not that big. a settlement that was formed out of "tough, former milita".

from that description, maybe intimidating reader?? nothing much for personality, just that him and rick aren't really meant to be seeing eachother...... (readers settlement could be close to alexandria, and known by alexandrians). but hey, who's going to tell rick to stop?

and this is specific,, but HoH (hard of hearing) reader? just makes surviving in a zombie apocalypse all the more difficult, if you can't hear anyone coming.

🫶🏼

Contact Your Saviors

Rick Grimes x Male Reader

Summary: After an unknown group attacks Alexandria, Rick has no choice but to ask for help from a nearby settlement.

A/N: I'm hoping this meets your request, I went a little overboard with 2k+ words.

TW: Violence - Blood - Gore

The air in Alexandria was thick with a suffocating blend of fear and the metallic tang of blood, a grim testament to the recent devastation. Homes lay in charred ruins, their skeletons stark against the bruised twilight sky, and the ground was littered with the gruesome tableau of the dead. The stench of burnt wood mingled with the cloying sweetness of fresh blood, a macabre perfume that clung to the damp air left by a recent, sorrowful rain.

It had been a swift, brutal intrusion. An unknown group, appearing from the shadows like specters, had descended upon the unsuspecting community in the dead of night. Most of the attackers had met their end at Rick's hand or fled into the darkness when their assault crumbled. Now, the aftermath was a stark reality, one that forced Rick to confront a bitter truth.

He stood, his posture weary, one hand resting on his hip as he fixed his gaze on Deanna. "We ain't got a choice but to ask for help," he stated, the words heavy with reluctance. Pride warred with necessity, but the image of the fallen and the vulnerability of his people tipped the scale. They were simply not strong enough to face another threat, not after this.

Deanna recoiled, her face etched with disdain. She ran a trembling hand through her disheveled hair, her other hand clenching into a tight fist before her. "I won't ask a group of monsters for help," she spat, her voice laced with a stubborn refusal. "We can do this alone."

Frustration gnawed at Rick. He began to pace the length of the room, the back-and-forth with Deanna an infuriating loop. The weight of responsibility pressed down on him. Finally, the simmering tension erupted. He slammed his fist against the worn wooden table, the sudden violence punctuating his despair before he turned and stormed out, the door rattling in his wake.

The relative quiet of his own house offered a momentary reprieve. He leaned against the closed door, letting the tension bleed from his shoulders as he saw Carl descending the stairs, Judith cradled in his arms. Carl, despite his youth, possessed a quiet understanding. "Do what you have to, Dad," he said, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Rick nodded, pulling both his children into a tight embrace, a silent promise to bring them back to safety. "Keep an eye on Judith for me, and listen to Glenn and Michonne," he instructed, his voice thick with emotion.

With a heavy sigh, he ascended the stairs to pack a bag, his movements swift and purposeful. He needed to speak with Glenn and Michonne, to lay out his plan, however risky it was.

He took one of the community's cars, offering a flimsy excuse about needing to clear his head, promising a swift return. Hours blurred into a monotonous stretch of road, the landscape a grim parade of abandoned towns and the slow, relentless march of walkers feasting on roadkill.

Finally, he arrived. Before him loomed a formidable set of gates, flanked by walls that were taller, thicker, and bore the weathered marks of experience far exceeding Alexandria's. Rick knew instinctively that these were not ordinary survivors. Whoever resided within these walls possessed a deep, ingrained understanding of survival.

He sat in his car, the engine idling, as the massive gates groaned open, revealing a figure stepping out to meet him. It was you. He recognized you, one of the people from the settlement Deanna had warned them about, a community with a history, albeit a strained one, with Alexandria.

Deanna's words echoed in his mind – "monsters," she had called them, people who killed without hesitation, reckless with their own lives and the lives of others. But Rick had seen a different kind of desperation in the world, a harsh reality where survival often demanded choices that blurred the lines of morality. He suspected your settlement understood that reality intimately, perhaps even embraced it. They were rumored to take in those who knew fighting was the only language this new world understood, those with backgrounds that had forged them into weapons – people like you, he surmised, noting the military bearing.

"Well, I'll be damned," you drawled, a wry chuckle escaping your lips. "Alexandria came to beg like a dog."

Rick stepped out of the car, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. He couldn't ignore the way your hand rested casually on the butt of the gun holstered at your hip, or the armed men and women who stood silently behind you, their eyes assessing him with a cold intensity.

"I came because we need help," Rick stated, taking a tentative step forward. He flinched slightly as you began to walk towards him, your gaze unwavering.

He noticed the way you moved, a strange blend of authority and an underlying weariness, a subtle tension in your stride. He saw the hearing aid peeking from beneath the loose strands of your hair, the dark circles etched beneath your eyes, the invisible weight of the world and its harsh demands etched onto your face.

You reached him, your movements fluid and economical. Without a word, you unholstered the Colt Python from his hip, the weight of the weapon settling comfortably in your hand. You gestured to one of your people, a silent command to take the car and bring it inside. "Sheriff, huh?" you hummed, your eyes flicking over him.

Rick's jaw tightened, the muscle twitching beneath his stubble. "Used to be."

You didn't reply, simply turning and gesturing for him to follow. As you walked into your settlement, Rick's eyes scanned the surroundings.

It was a place where nature and human resilience had intertwined. Buildings were reclaimed by vines and wildflowers, creating a strange, rugged beauty. There were thriving gardens, people working with a quiet purpose, and children playing, their laughter a stark contrast to the grim reality outside the walls. Rick had initially judged Alexandria for its perceived softness, but here, it was different. Everyone, even the children, seemed acutely aware of the dangers lurking beyond, yet they had cultivated a community that held a tangible sense of belonging.

You caught his gaze, the way he was observing everything. "Deanna talks shit," you stated bluntly, your voice cutting through the air. "We know what it's like out there. Know how to survive. And sometimes, that means you put your morals aside and realize you either fight or die like a dog."

Rick nodded, the harsh truth of your words resonating within him. "That's why I need help," he whispered, the admission raw and vulnerable. "Alexandria can't protect itself, especially after this attack. My people aren't safe until those bastards are dead."

You led him towards an old lookout point, perched high enough to offer a panoramic view of the settlement, a testament to what your community had built. "Tell me something," you murmured, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "What would you do to keep those you love safe?"

Rick followed your gaze, his eyes absorbing the details of the settlement, the quiet hum of life within its walls. "Anything," he replied, the word a low, unwavering promise.

You nodded, taking a seat on a worn chair and gesturing for Rick to do the same. "Good," you murmured. "Now, here's the deal."

You explained a recent influx of walkers near the south gates, a growing horde that posed a significant threat to the runners and scouts who used that entrance and exit. Rick understood the unspoken implication. You needed help, and given Alexandria's past judgment, it was a fair price to pay.

"Help us clear the growing horde, and your problem simply vanishes in the night," you stated, extending your hand, your eyes locking with his.

Rick met your gaze, a small, grim smile playing on his lips as he shook your hand. "You got yourself a deal."

The night was a brutal ballet of violence. Rick, alongside a group of your runners, moved through the darkness, the only illumination the flickering beams of their flashlights and the occasional flare of a walker's rotting flesh catching fire. The air was thick with the stench of death, amplified by the sheer number of the undead pressing against the south gate. You moved with a practiced efficiency, your hearing aid seemingly no impediment as you anticipated the movements of the walkers, your shots precise and deadly. Rick fought with a desperate energy, fueled by the image of his children and the burning memory of Alexandria's devastation. It was a long, grueling night, but as the first rays of dawn painted the sky, the horde had been thinned, the immediate threat neutralized. Rick had no doubt you were a man of your word.

As the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows across the settlement, you and a small group of your people geared up. The adrenaline from the night had faded, replaced by a cold, focused resolve. You made your way towards the compound Rick believed the attackers were holed up in, the truck rumbling beneath you.

You sat on the hood of the truck, the metal warm beneath you, watching as the last sliver of the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues. The flimsy gate surrounding the compound groaned in protest as one of your people drove a stolen car straight through it.

A grim smile touched your lips. You lit the rag stuffed into the neck of an old beer bottle filled with gasoline, the flame catching with a whoosh. The makeshift Molotov cocktail arced through the air, shattering against the wooden structure, igniting it in a blaze of fire. The crackling flames mingled with the screams and desperate pleas of the compound's inhabitants, a symphony of terror that sent a shiver down your spine, a shiver that was not entirely unpleasant.

Moments like this were a stark reminder of why Alexandria had labeled you as monsters. Moments where the safety of your own people eclipsed any consideration for others. Moments where you shot without hesitation, where you let them beg and scream as walkers, drawn by the chaos, tore into them.

You stepped over charred corpses, sidestepping the few walkers that had managed to stumble through the flames. A slow smile spread across your face as you knelt down, facing the leader of the group, his face a mask of terror and pain. "Did you honestly think you'd get away with what you did?" you asked, your voice low and dangerous.

Suddenly, a figure lunged from the shadows, a desperate act of survival. You were caught off guard, your partial deafness a momentary disadvantage. He tackled you, the force of the impact knocking the wind out of you. A sharp pain ripped through your shoulder as a knife plunged into your flesh. The fight was brutal and quick, a tangle of limbs and grunts. You managed to gain the upper hand, your years of fighting instinct taking over. You slammed his face into the rough ground beneath you, again and again, until the struggling ceased, and he lay still.

You huffed, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You yanked the knife from your shoulder, ignoring the searing pain, and turned back to the leader, your eyes cold and unforgiving.

"Now, where were we?" you said, your voice dangerously calm. You didn't give him a chance to answer. The blade flashed in the dying light, ending his reign of terror with brutal efficiency.

Your people moved quickly, efficiently. They salvaged what they could from the compound – weapons, ammunition, supplies – their movements practiced and swift. Then, as you had done before, you set the rest ablaze, ensuring no one would follow in their footsteps. The flames roared, consuming the last vestiges of the group that had dared to attack Alexandria. With the acrid smell of smoke filling the air, you and your people turned and began the journey back towards Alexandria.

Rick stood just inside the gates of Alexandria, his eyes fixed on the approaching truck. As the gates creaked open, his breath hitched. You sat on the hood of the truck, bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun, a figure both imposing and strangely alluring. He couldn't miss the dark stain blooming on your shirt, the blood a stark contrast to the grim satisfaction etched on your face.

You hopped off the hood of the truck with a casual grace that belied your injury, flinging a wrapped bundle towards Rick and Deanna. The cloth unfurled, revealing the severed head of the compound's leader, his dead eyes staring blankly at the sky.

Deanna recoiled, a hand flying to her chest, her face pale. "I told you they were monsters!" she exclaimed, turning away, unable to bear the sight.

You walked towards Rick, kicking the head further in his direction, a macabre offering. "You'd rather your people die like dogs, Deanna?" you sneered, your voice dripping with disdain. "Take victories where you can get them, because sometimes trusting the monsters is what keeps you alive."

Deanna, her face still averted, gave a curt nod towards Rick, a silent acknowledgment of the grim reality. Then, she turned and walked away, the weight of her prejudice heavy in her steps.

Rick, his gaze fixed on you, ushered you and your people inside. He led you towards the makeshift infirmary, his concern evident as he guided you to a cot. He waited patiently as one of his people tended to your stab wound, his eyes never leaving you. Once the room was empty and the door was closed, he took a seat in front of you, his expression earnest.

"Thank you," he said, the word sincere. "For what you did. My kids… they're safer now, thanks to you."

You shrugged, a grimace of pain flickering across your face. "It wasn't anything I wouldn't do if they attacked my settlement," you replied, your voice matter-of-fact.

You started to get up, reaching for your discarded shirt. Rick gently took it from you, his touch surprisingly tender as he helped you put it on, careful not to aggravate your injured shoulder. You smirked, a hint of amusement in your eyes, and patted his chest. "You're welcome in my settlement anytime, Sheriff," you said, your voice a low murmur. "You and your kids."

Rick nodded, a small smile touching his lips. "Thank you."

Before you left, you leaned in, your hand finding his jaw. Your kiss was sudden, heated, and rough, a raw expression of something that surprised even you. Rick didn't pull away, meeting your intensity with a surprising fervor of his own. You squeezed his bicep, a silent promise hanging in the air, before turning and rejoining your people, the truck rumbling to life as you headed back towards your settlement, leaving Rick standing in the infirmary, the scent of smoke and something else, something undeniably charged, lingering in the air.

[voidcat]

idk little elaboration on this ig michael kaiser x gn!reader. vampire au. wc: 1k p.2ish wip

it's been an odd couple of days, weeks even.

Michael isn't sure what did it start with but it ended with you caught up in the claws. When you first disappeared, he paid it no mind. You did like your space and tended to disappear on him often. Not for naught, he did press your buttons, forcing you out of your shell and further- fight or flight, is the simplest result nature offers everyone. You are your nerves, your brain, your body and systems working in absolute unity.

'Homeostasis.'

He still hears your voice in his head correcting him.

'It is what you call your body working in regulation, maintaining its inner- and outer balance, if you include the barreers and systems engaging with the world to be outer.'

He tests the word on his tongue.

"Hoh-mee-oh-stay-sis" a funny word for something so simple yet heavy.

All the burden entities in whole carry. The essence of life maybe, to keep the gears running, to keep the showing going.

What you've been lacking lately.

It's been a long while since you disappered, and returned, eventually.

You do, always finding your way back to him. But at the sight of you, looking normal but not quite, face sunken and something empty behind your eyes, he felt the hairs on end spike up. Yet Michael had been worried for a while longer than that.

When you hissy fit went on longer, no contact to anyone or anything, no sign of you existing in any space, he knew something was off.

When you step in through the frame, lights too loud and bright, and your eyelids unable to response, you stand in the entrance for a while. Your body carried you all the way here, something born out of reflex, you assume, but you don't know this place.

It smells... nice. Or what should be considered nice. There is a fragnence of musky and sweet, were you to look around a little, you could've spotted the sources to be little candles scattered around.

Shaped of strawberries in a basket, some roses and few more- varying from cute to aesthetic, only the cat shaped candle on the bookshelf apart from them, unlit. Candles you would never light up normally.

Not that you remember any of these. But he does.

It's been some time now, you sit still in the room he told you was yours, curtains pulled all the way to both edges, drowning you in absolute darkness.

It feels like home that way. You can still taste the dirt and the cold on your tongue.

Something is wrong.

That much, you know. You feel weirdly silent, calm, something missing, ripped out of you even.

Your confusion does not bring forth anything akin to worry though. Worry, the word might've made you chuckle perhaps. Such a small sound for something people claim to be big. It must be what keeps life kicking and going. It's what dances behind those blue eyes of the man you've been observing whenever he comes near, if your judgement is anything to come by.

For the most time things go still, those moments you like best, as if ceasing to exist-- then the serene darkness is interrupted, you feel pulled back to a stage you do not belong.

The man becomes memorable again whenever he does so. You think, maybe that's what he wants.

Nobody seemed to pay you any mind or even spared a glance up until now. His explosive behaviors only seem to strenghten your case.

(He would've laughed at it, you'll learn later. 'Explosive? I'll show you explosive.' or something cliche like that. He is the closest example to life you've been witnessing as of late- so he marks the upper limit for such definitions for you.)

He acts and moves and talks in ways that confuse you, making your body shriek. A reaction you find abnormal from yourself, what must've caused it. Maybe something runs deeper to have caused such a trigger response.

His behavior only worsens when you look at him without a sound, expressionless. Those moments, you mark as 'explosive'.

His pupils dilatate, his voice gets louder, until you hear a little ringing-- you begin to notice how his fists tightens, his body changing color. Drops of something rim at the edges of his eyes, shining under the light yet not in any particular color.

Red and flush in the face, neck craned out, muscles constricted and something ragged, a sound like he is in pain almost.

These displays add to your confusion.

You do not know why you are there or why you're staying. You suppose you could leave, but it'd only trigger his explosion again. You do not make any sense as to why he is so adamant on keeping you near, to stay close.

The man has given you a name but he shifts again whenever you call him that. You later muse that the emotion he must've felt is sadness, or distress, when you utter the name 'Kaiser'.

And so you stop doing that too.

'It's Michael. Not Kaiser.' he has said this so many times that his voice rings long enough in your head now.

On the moments of stillness when he makes you sit with him, you catch his face shifting too. Those emotions, you'll learn to label far later, so they remain saved somewhere in the back of your mind for the longest time.

You know something is deeply and utterly wrong.

More to do with you and your predicament than the man before you. Even while your mind and body were devoid of everything, you could feel it. That sinking feeling with its claws surrounding you, its grip tightening with each futile attempt he makes at you.

You suppose, despite it all, maybe you should thank him for teaching you so much in the meantime- to help you categorize and label all you've done so far. But you think, this would only upset him further-- another judgement you've learned to make in your time with him. So you refrain from voicing that too.

Not that it matters. It scratches at your throat, the dryness of your mouth hurting you from the inside out, like something dragging its nails into your skin, so you remain silent majority of the time.

[sheeple]

Heirs of Hogwarts | part 1

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Cheating boyfriend (Matt could never) / Matt is a cheeky shit A/n: Kinda tried something new with the notes. Lmk if you like/dislike it [Masterlist] [HoH masterlist]

There is a certain expectation that comes with having a well-known surname. People expect you to act in a way that befits a Malfoy, Abbott, Prewett or any other name on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list. And while there is no person left who carries the Gaunt name anymore, a Riddle is as good as a Gaunt in the eyes of the Pure-Blood community.

The one thing nobody realises that also carries on for the ones who are literally Wizarding World royalty. Like you. A Hufflepuff. No, not like the house. But your surname is literally Hufflepuff. Helga Hufflepuff is your great-grandmother many times over. And it sucks.

You're expected to be the embodiment of Hufflepuff House. Be kind, be ready to help everyone who asks, be patient, be humble, be just, be good at Herbology. You hate Herbology! The dirt under your nails. The smell of the classroom. The way magical plants are not really safe for children to be around. I mean... hello? Mandrakes? Yeah, didn't think so.

And it's not like you're not all those things. You are kind, you do help others when asked, you are humble, maybe not as patient as you should be, and just. Just not all the time. 

Like right now. Right now you are not patient with Hannah and Susan for hogging the bathroom. You've slept like shit and you are hungry. So, you've decided to go to breakfast without them and have them join you later. You can always brush your teeth after breakfast

As you walk across the common room, you greet your Great-Grandmother in passing. "Morning, Meemaw."

"Good morning my little Badger!", she calls after you cheerfully, earning a couple snickers from your housemates. You choose to ignore them and make your trek up the stairs in silence, giving every student who greets you a polite smile.

You don't even know half the people who call out your name when you pass them. They don't even use your name. Just a variation of Hufflepuff. Huff. Puff. Badger. Queen Badger — you really hate that one. You nearly punched a guy for calling you the Top Notch Yellow One. But to be fair, you were in an abysmal mood that day.

By now you've got a pro at tuning out the stares when you walk into the Great Hall. It's mostly the first years who stare at you with wide eyes and mouths agape once they learn who you are. 

You plop down at a free spot and start to plate up some food and pour in juice. Just as you're mid-sip, you feel someone loom over you.

"Good morning", gets whispered in your ear before your boyfriend takes a seat next to you.

You hum and slump against his shoulder. Malcolm pats your head as he knows that is the best attempt at getting a response from you before you've got a semblance of food in your stomach. 

Malcolm Preece and you have been dating for almost a year now. He's a year above you and on the Quidditch team. Your friends don't really like him — and if you are completely honest with yourself neither do you. He's too possessive. He always needs to know where you are and with whom. It also drives you absolutely up the walls.

It has always been expected of you to be in a respectable relationship by the sixth year. Even non-Slytherin families have that kind of pressure. Surprising hmm? You needed your parents off your back and Malcolm was there. Do you feel bad for the guy? Yeah, of course. And it's not like you don't care about him but it's more an obligation; the kissing and the touches and the handholding.

"Guess what", you grumble, whipping your mouth. Malcolm hums as he butters his bread. "My first class of the day is Herbology."

Malcolm laughs and shakes his head. He places a kiss on your hair before saying, "I know. You've been whining about it all last evening. Is there absolutely nothing you can find to enjoy about the subject. Or why don't you ask Sprout if you can drop the course?"

You give him a look. "You know I can't do that. Everybody in my family graduated top of their class and I am not about to be the first one of my siblings to royally piss off my parents. Amelia came close when she almost dropped Meemaw's cup." 

Your boyfriend laughs but doesn't say anything else. Because your hate for Herbology doesn't come from your general dislike of dirt. It comes from the first thing you see when you walk into the glasshouse.

You share many classes with other houses. You also share many classes with Slytherin. That also means you share many classes with Mattheo Riddle. He's a pompous prat who likes to make your days worse for absolutely no reason. 

Normally you sit on the other side of the classroom and ignore him and his friends. He's not above pulling your hair or bumping against you in the hallways. It's petty. And you have no idea why or how it started in the first place.

Herbology is the only class you actually have to interact with Mattheo. For the others you usually sit with Hannah or Susan. But Professor Sprout wanted to hustle up the usual groups and pair random students with each other. That's how you got stuck with Mattheo.

"What is it, princess? Scared a little mud will ruin your manicure?", he says with a shit-eating grin as you put on gardening gloves. You shoot him a glare but continue to tend to you Fluxweed.

"Looks like your Fluxweed can use a little manicure." You give a pointed look at the sad sprig that used to be a plant and continue to do your own thing. "That reminds me, we have to finish our report on Fluxweed. Do you have any time this week? I mean, between your busy schedule of pestering first years and tripping up Neville Longbottom."

You hear a snicker behind you. Hannah holds up her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter and you wink at her while Mattheo sends her a scalding glare.

"Sure", sneers Mattheo, "if you have any room between tea parties and snogging that sad sack you call a boyfriend."

"I don't have-", you want to interject but you know it has no use. Only if Professor Sprout wouldn't be hoovering around you all the time you would have 'accidentally' stomped on his feet.

You turn your back towards him and walk towards the supply closet, searching for a pair of shears. But Professor Sprout keeps them on the top shelf. As you want to grab your wand, a hand suddenly tugs at the ribbon in your hair. 

With a gasp, you whip around and you are met with Mattheo's chest, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He gives you a bored look before turning around and walking back towards his table. 

You shake your head and turn around. When you want to Accio the shears to you, you see that they've been placed on the shelve at eye height. Huh.

Once your classes before lunch are finally over you walk out of the classroom with a smile as you spot Malcolm waiting for you. But your smile soon falters at the person standing next to him. Gladys Prescott stands way too close to your boyfriend. She's twirling a lock of hair with her finger as she laughs obnoxiously at one of Malcolm's jokes. They're great, but not that funny.

When you first started dating Malcolm you voiced your questions about his and Gladys' relationship. You were under the impression that they were dating because of how close they were. You and your friends were surprised when he asked you out on a Hogsmeade date.

The worst thing is that Malcolm swears nothing's going on between the two. That they're just friends. But the way he looks at her and treats her makes you glower. It's not that you're jealous. Just... you don't want to get berated by your parents for choosing the wrong partner.

"Ready?", you plaster on a wide smile, clutching your books in your hands.

Gladys and Malcolm look like they are snapped out of their little world before Malcolm registers that it's you and he returns your smile. "You don't mind if Gly joins us, do you?"

You turn to the girl, who gives you a fake ass big smile. "Of course not. The more the merrier! Now, tell me about your morning."

The two of them speak more to each other and don't bother to include you. Resting your chin on your hand, you look around the Great Hall. Susan and Hannah are doing their Prefect duties so they are unable to join you for lunch. 

Tuning out Malcolm and Gladys, your eyes flicker to the other students who are enjoying their lunch. You suddenly make eye contact with Mattheo over at the Slytherin table. He raises his brows at you. You mimic his expression before continuing with your surveying. But when you look back he's still looking at you.

His expressionless eyes flicker towards your boyfriend and Gladys before back to you. He raises a single eyebrow at you, silently asking if you tolerate it. 

You send him a pinched look back before zoning back into the conversation. Malcolm and Gladys are laughing loudly and Gladys has a hand clasped over his. The hold on your fork tightens and you swear you feel it bend in your hold.

You stand up abruptly. Gladys and Malcolm pull their hands away like they're burned and look up at you. "I'm... I have to ask Professor Slughorn something before class begins." You think up the excuse on the spot.

"Oh... Do you want me to walk you..?" Malcolm looks at you with big eyes.

But you shake your head. "No. I wouldn't want to pull you away from your fascinating conversation." You give Gladys a sickly sweet smile, which she doesn't return.

Instead of making a left once you leave the Great Hall, you keep on walking until you're at the edge of the forest. You survey if nobody's following you. With a deep breath, you crouch down and feel your bones and skin snap and pull.

One thing that nobody seems to know about Helga Hufflepuff is that she is a born Animagus. And she has given the ability to transform into a badger at will to all her descendants. The Ministry knows about it and every Hufflepuff descendant gets tested at age ten. By then most children are already used to the transformation.

And you love it. It helps you clear your head and release frustration. As of late you've been doing it a lot more. 

Your little legs move easily over the forest floor towards your little burrow. You know, the Dark Forest isn't that scary when you're one of the animals. Mostly because you know which sides of the forest you need to dodge. Badgers are vicious but spiders are a paint in the butt. 

The afternoon is spent frolicking in flower fields, munching on berries and nuts, and reinforcing the little stick bridges you made for your fellow badgers and woodland creatures over the many rivers that pass through the forest.

By the time you return to the castle, it's already dark and you're tired. You want to curl up in your bed and hear about Susan and Hannah's day. 

But something stops you in your way when you pass a dorm. A whiney, feminine voice comes from Malcolm's room. Gladys. "For how long do you have to pretend to like that stuck-up brat?"

You inch closer to the door and peer between the crack. Malcolm and Gladys are on his bed, her between his legs and they're pecking each other's lips, naked. Your chest tightens at this display of intimacy Malcolm never wanted to show you. Too 'old-school'. Or so he claimed.

Malcolm hums. "I know, Pookie. But next year I'm graduated and I want a good job. If I manage to sit it out any longer Mr Hufflepuff might recommend me for a good position at the Ministry."

Anger bubbles from within you and you turn around, marching out of the common room. You ignore the calls of your name and keep on walking until you're outside and on one of the old defence walls of the school. Your thinking spot.

It doesn't hurt that he is cheating on you. You weren't blind. What hurts is that he is using you to get further in life. He's just like the others. 

Your shoulders tense up at the sound of someone making them up the stairs and the smell of cigarettes. Great. You really need him to bother you right now.

Mattheo halts once he spots you sitting between the battlements, your feet dangling off the edge. He blows out a puff of smoke before sitting next to you. Out of politeness, he offers his cigarette. He doesn't expect you to accept it and take a drag.

"I didn't know you smoked", muses Mattheo as he watches you blow out the smoke mesmerised.

You glance at him while giving the cigarette back. "I don't."

The two of you stay silent, neither of you wanting or knowing what to talk about. Until it's Mattheo who breaks the silence. "What has the pretty Princess so stressed?"

"I'm not stressed." You opt to ignore the princess part for your sanity.

"Sure. And I can't talk to snakes. You're destroying your nailbeds", he points out and you look down. Your fingers are picking at the skin around your thumbnails. You've managed to make it bleed.

Sticking your thumb in your mouth to suck the blood away, you stare defiantly at the darkness that envelops the forbidden forest. "Malcolm's been cheating on me", you say after some contemplating, eyeing the Slytherin boy next to you.

Mattheo raises one brow unimpressed. "What?", he asks when you give him a look, "do I have to act surprised?" He dramatically fake gasps. "Oh, my Merlin! He did not!" He impersonates an American Valley Girl while covering his mouth with his hand.

You roll your eyes annoyed. Of course, you shouldn't have brought up the subject to Mattheo fucking Riddle. "Forget it if you're going to be a dick about it." You push yourself up and dust off your hands.

But Mattheo's hand around your wrist stops you and he leans back, his eyes somewhat apologetic. "No, don't go. I'm sorry. How did you find out?"

This time you raise your eyebrows. Mattheo Riddle never apologises. What in the... 

Against your better judgment, you sit back, your hands folded in your lap. "I just came back and I heard him talk about it with Gladys. How he wants my dad to give him a good job when he graduates." You take a deep breath, the nicotine tickling your nose. "I had a hunch he was fooling around with her. But using me, that hurts, you know?" 

He nods as you glance at him. Mattheo knows. He, just like you, is used to people only talking to or befriending him because they want something from him. They think getting in his good graces gets them somewhere. Absolutely not.

"You knew?"

You hum. Your fingers start to attack your nailbeds again as you think back to the many times you've had to bite your tongue. To keep face in front of the others at school. "I needed someone to keep my parents off my back. My parents expect all of us to have a steady partner by our sixth year. My siblings did it, but only the oldest actually had a girlfriend. The twins just told me to find someone to play the part."

A groan escapes you as you bury your hands in your face. "And now someone will rat to their parents about my break-up, who in turn tell my parents and then I'll get a stern letter about my future. This whole break-up is more an irritation than a heartache."

The Slytherin boy next to you is deadly silent. Why would you be so stupid to air your grievance to him? It's not like he cares. Standing up for real this time, you give him a curt nod. "Thank you for listening, Riddle. Best not to mention our meet-up with anyone, alright? Goodnight." 

You make your way back towards your dorm and crash into your bed. Pressing your face against your pillow, you try your hardest to forget today.

But as suspected, sleep doesn't come easily. Or not at all. And you feel like a zombie walking towards breakfast, your friends giving you worried looks after you explained what happened last night — minus the Mattheo part. 

"I swear if one more busybody comes up to you to say they're sorry", grumbles Hannah as she gives the students around you glares. She balls up her fists and punches the air in front of her. You and Susan chuckle while students around you look at her weirdly.

It's the worst when you enter the Great Hall. The general breakfast noise quiets as your peers start to whisper when you pass them. You keep your eyes focused on a far-off point until you are at your usual breakfast spot.

The three of you eat mostly in silence. Hannah and Susan try to engage you in a conversation but you just play with your food. 

"Can we talk?"

You tense up and drop your fork. Slowly, you turn around and look up at Malcolm. He has a guilty look on his face and it angers you. "I don't know. Can we?" You cock your head condescendingly to the side.

You turn back around and start abusing the piece of toast on your plate. Malcolm lays a hand on your shoulder but it gets promptly ripped off by Hannah. "I strongly advise you to back off."

Malcolm scoffs, looking down at the girl who stands protective in front of you. "Or what? Can't I speak with my girlfriend?"

You slowly rise and turn around to face the prick. "Don't speak to her like that, you insufferable twat. You best believe my dad will make sure you won't get a job anywhere in the Ministry, not even as a wand polisher", you bare your teeth, your chest raising rapidly. The Great Hall has fallen silent, watching the exchange.

"You little bitch." Malcolm's jaw ticks and he balls a fist. But the voice of a teacher stops him.

"Mister Preece, I would strongly advise you to step away from Miss Hufflepuff if you don't want to lose your position on the Quidditch team." Professor McGonagall comes striding from the teacher's table, where they could have seen the interaction between the two of you clear as day.

Malcolm's eyes flicker from you towards the professor and back. "This isn't over", he grumbles before leaving the Great Hall.

"Thank you, Professor." You give the woman a small smile as you collect your schoolbag. She waves you away and you grab both Hannah and Susan's hands, dragging them out of the Great Hall, the stares the whole ordeal created starting to creep you out.

Hannah grumbles all the way towards Charms how's she going to 'beat his face in the next time he dares to look at you'. Susan and you share a look but you're glad you've got Hannah to look out for you.

It's again Hannah who sends glares around as the three of you take place at your usual spot — upper bench all the way at the end. That way the three of you can whisper among each other without bothering anyone.

The class goes as usual before a paper bird lands before you. You look surprised to the other side of the classroom. Mattheo Riddle is already looking at you and miming for you to unfold the bird.

You raise your brows at his note. He has such a chicken-scratch handwriting.

"What is it?", asks Susan in a whisper, leaning closer to you to read the note. A soft gasp escapes her and she looks over at Mattheo. Who's eyes are still trained on you, by the way. "Since when are you and Mattheo Riddle sending notes to each other?!"

"Since never!", you hiss, "what time are we done today?"

Hannah looks up from her book. "Three. Why?" She snatches the note out of Susan's hands and her eyes trail over the words. "He needs to fix his handwriting, my brother in Christ. Is 'Fluxweed report' some kind of secret code?"

You snort and swat her chest, earning a smug smile from the girl.

"I think it's rather romantic", says Susan, the hopeless romantic that she is.

A grimace forms on your face. "What is so romantic about finishing a Herbology essay?"

Susan sighs exorbitantly as she rolls her eyes. "You're officially single now! Free to go and explore and find someone who you really like! Mattheo obviously has seen his chance and took it!"

You and Hannah look at Susan as if she just swallowed a flobberworm. She gives the two of you an exasperated look. "What?! Isn't it like so romantic if the two descendants of Hogwarts founders end up dating? I bet ten galleons that he asks you out on a Hogsmeade date."

You huff out a breath. "Fine. But if he ends up humiliating me I'm going to enjoy those ten galleons with all my heart. Now, what do I write him back?"

"Oh! You should ask to meet at those tables at the back of the library where nobody really comes. That way you two could really cosy up."

You turn towards Hannah, feeling betrayed. "I thought you were with me on this?"

Hannah shrugs. "I'm always down for some drama. Besides, he has been staring at you and I always wondered when he would make his move."

"Since when has Mattheo Riddle been staring at me?", you ask genuinely shocked.

"Since like forever! He always manages to look away just in time. You were also too busy with him who we won't name. Bad joojoo."

You ignore Hannah's observation and pen an answer back.

You wait to send it towards him when Flitwick isn't looking before chucking the balled-up paper towards the other side of the classroom and hitting him in the face.

You clasp a hand over your mouth while you and your friends stifle your laugh. Mattheo unfolds the paper, his eyes following every letter you wrote before he shows a thumbs up. 

"Dibs on being you guys' child's Godparent", whispers Susan with a grin and you elbow her in the ribs.

You try to bring your focus back to Flitwick, but you keep on glancing back at the curly-haired boy across the room. Has he some sort of plan to ask you so publicly to study? What is his motive? It can't only be studying, right?

Throughout the day you've grown quite nervous about meeting Mattheo. If it wasn't for your stupid friends and their stupid words you wouldn't have thought about this afternoon like any different from any other Herbology class. 

For Merlin's sake! You just broke up with your boyfriend and your friends are already pushing you onto the next. You wanted to take it slow for a while and enjoy the rest of your year without the worry of having to please a guy!

You fix your hair and uniform behind a bookcase as you see Mattheo already sitting at the table. With a curt breath and nod to yourself, you walk up to the table and take place in front of him. "Hi. Sorry if you've been waiting for long." You send him a small smile as you grab your book and notebook out of your bag. "It takes more time than I imagined to get from Divignation to here."

Mattheo gives you a half-smile and waves away your apologies. "Don't worry. I just got here too actually. So... what needed to be in that essay again?"

The two of you work together surprisingly well. If Mattheo isn't throwing his snide remarks around anyway. You also don't feel the need to be as snappy as you usually are with him. It's actually... nice? For once. 

As you're writing the last part of the essay, you feel his eyes on you. You look back up and raise your brows, silently asking what his deal is.

"I was thinking", he begins.

You let out a chuckle. "That's dangerous."

Ignoring your quip, he continues, "you need your parents off your back, right? And I imagine that you would like to smite Preece after that embarrassing stunt he pulled this morning."

You lean back with your eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't quite call it that. But continue."

Mattheo licks his bottom lips as he instead leans close to you, his voice softening. "Go out with me. Just a couple of dates so that you're seen with me. You know it will drive him nuts seeing you move on so quick."

You contemplate it for a moment or two. He is right. Malcolm always was a bit too paranoid for your taste when you talked with a boy. 

He hums. "So you agree?"

"What do you out of it? This all is a bit too suspicious."

He laughs and he runs his tongue over his teeth. "You don't believe me that I'm just content with having a pretty girl by my side?" When you shake your head he grins. "Smart girl. Maybe by 'dating' you, it will pull Preece's attention away from Quidditch and they'll lose the cup."

"So I'm sabotaging my own house?", you muse, your eyes flickering between his own.

Something seems to falter inside Mattheo's eyes for a second before a teasing smile grows on his face. "Well, you can't have everything princess."

Huming, you fall back into your chair. "Sure. When and where will our first 'date' be?", you use air quotations when you say date.

"I've heard that Saturday is going to be a sunny day."

"Sure. Eleven okay? We could meet up in the Clocktower courtyard. That way a lot of people see us leave together."

And with that, quite casually, your totally not fake date with Mattheo Riddle is agreed.

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch

[mediumgayitalian]

4 and 7 for will, percy, nico and jason!!!

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

will:

sitcom. easy.

the very real way that i want a summer camp sitcom of will and his big siblings at camp.

dude if i had infinite money to fight cease and desists and copyright claims i would just hire actors and artists to make tv shows of every fic idea that has ever come into my head

percy:

i genuinely think percy is so so perfect as a first person narrative.

so i wouldn't change that.

BUT i would LOOOOOOVE to see a the office style mockumentary about percy and annabeth in new rome.

like that would be THEEEE funniest thing of all time

"and how do you know that x monster can be defeated in this way? what is your source, mr. jackson?"

*office stare of misery*

nico:

nico needs to be in a video game so badly it's ridiculous.

now i dont even like video games. never have cared never will. cant get into them.

BUT a video game with nicos bajillion side quests would be so goddam cool. visuals would go INSANE.

it would also be sooooo funny for him to have an inventory of weird shit and its just infinite

jason:

i need on on stage play hamlet style and it needs to be so haunting and lonely

imagine that. for a second.

the pain of jason's life

with jason as the character watching

lemme articulate this better.

we are introduced to jason, the adult character

this calm, quiet, kind, happy man

and then he dies

and he wakes up on stage alone

and he asks, aloud, what is going on

and no one answers

because he is a character

and then he watches every day of his past, hazed in smoke

and he is horrifed

the entire play is just the audience watching in complicit horror, not answering as jason demands, with increasing desperation, "why? why did she give me up? why was i alone?why did no one come for me? why did no one help me? why was i alone? why did i lose? why did my heart have to be the one to break? why was i alone? why did no one stop my sacrifice? why did i have to be sacrificed? why was i alone? why was i alone? why was i alone?"

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

will:

looooove Deaf/HoH will.

love that will has No fashion sense.

love southern accent will.

love will who has been burning the torch for nico for one hundred years.

percy:

love when he has an obvious and shyly embarrassing crush on annabeth.

love when he is incredibly emotionally mature.

actually i will be real i dislike a lot of fanon percy. i feel like people try really hard to make him dislikeable, like stupid or mean or thoughtless and i hate it

nico:

whipped nico my beloved.

nico is a little closer to percy in terms of fanon dislikes for me actually. hate hate hate how he is treated like a little meow meow that everyone has to protect.

jason:

LOVE Black jason. like he is Black to me i get jumpscared every time i see White jason or thalia.

love sweetheart jason like he is i love him

[littledovesnow]

the sound of snow

request: coriolanus with a girlfriend (wife in this case) who has hearing damange from the war

word count: 2.2k

content warnings: coriolanus being kinda awful in his speech but it's canon sooo, lucky flickerman trying to make a joke (spoiler: it doesn't land well), i think that's it?

a/n: ok i am not d/Deaf/HoH but i do have friends and former classmates who are, and i've done research before writing this. please correct me if i am wrong about anything. i left some things vague (such as hearing loss level), but overall i think it's decent?

also italics are when there's sign language being used :)

also also i had like three title ideas for this but i feel like they're all so bad but i liked this one the best

-----

Coriolanus had first met you back when you were both still wet behind the ears, unsure of how to navigate life after the Dark Days. His family had taken a direct hit when District 13 was no longer, his family’s fortune plundering into the depth unknown. Your family, however, had to face a different setback: a few rather close bomb blasts had stolen a majority of your hearing.

Coming from an affluent family, you were able to afford a private tutor growing up, teaching you and your family sign language, though as you grew old enough you were fit for a hearing aid in the left ear—the only one with enough hearing left to make it worthwhile.

All the while, you and Coriolanus never turned your backs on each other, choosing to let each other in on your trials and tribulations, knowing secrets were safe between the two of you. He had thus learned sign language from being in your home so often, Tigris and the Grandma’am having picked up on some of the more common phrases.

When you were both of age to begin at the Academy, your father fought tooth and nail with the Dean to ensure you were well-equipped with an interpreter when necessary, though you often went without one as you grew tiresome of the stares from your classmates.

During the 10th Annual Hunger Games, you say alongside Coriolanus as you two watched the tributes battle for victory, both celebrating when Lucy Gray was crowned the victor, both unaware of what fate waited your boyfriend the following day.

His stint in District 12 was something you two rarely spoke on, choosing to forget those few disastrous months while you were separated, you back in the Capitol studying at University while Coriolanus learned the hard way what it meant to be a Peacekeeper, to learn what it feels like to betray a friend, to learn what true power felt like.

Dr. Gaul had spoken to you prior to calling Coriolanus back to the Capitol, wanting your input if he would be a considerable candidate for her Gamemaker Apprenticeship, to which you informed her it was one of the biggest honors he would have wished for. Thus, Coriolanus was recalled back to the Capitol, back to you, where he stood alongside Dr. Gaul to prepare for years of Hunger Games, eventually landing as a true Gamemaker as Dr. Gaul began to take steps back in preparation for her retirement.

One day, however, Coriolanus had told her he was interested in becoming Panem’s next president, with Felix Ravinstill gone and no other heirs of the title, an election would take place. It was no surprise to the Head Gamemaker when the blonde brought the idea up, having seen him yearn and hunger for the coveted presidential position since he was fresh out of the Academy.

It came as no shock when he was announced at the Panem’s next president, you alongside of him as the First Lady. The country never knew what would become of the young couple, stars and revenge in their eyes.

-----

Coriolanus knew where he could find you once he returned from the Citadel, having met with Dr. Gaul for the upcoming 25th Hunger Games. He wanted them to be more of a spectacle than usual, to commemorate the quarter century since the end of the war.

He ignored the Avox who had opened the door to the private wing of the mansion, ignored the Avox who had his usual glass of whiskey waiting on a silver platter.

Opening the door to the greenhouse, Coriolanus’ eyes lit up as he saw you carefully pruning the rose bush planted in memorial of the Grandma’am. “Love?”

You looked up, and Coriolanus smiled when he realized your hearing aid was still in. You usually chose not to wear it while at home, preferring the comfortable silence from time to time.

“How was your day?” He asked, helping you untie the gardening smock you wore to protect the clothing underneath.

“It was fine, uneventful.” You replied, looking at the garden around the two of you. “How was Volumnia?”

Coriolanus was still gobsmacked that Dr. Gaul allowed his wife to call her by her first name, only a select few Capitol citizens were granted that honor, though he was one of them.

“She misses you, asked that you stop by sometime for lunch.” Coriolanus mused, plucking a rose out of the bunch in the vase. “Maybe you can help her come up with some new strategies for The Games, she loved your idea of stocking some food in the middle.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, not expecting the silly idea of arming the tributes with food to be such a hit in the Captiol. Betting had been at an all-time high for the tributes who had been able to get their hands on the stale, tasteless protein bars.

“I’ll see if she’s available on Thursday.” You knew the mad scientist would make room any day to meet with you. She had a soft spot for you, no one was quite sure why.

“You can ask her this evening, since we have that awful gala to start preparing for The Games.”

You looked at your husband, clearly forgetting about the gala. “I forgot that was tonight. I wouldn’t have pruned the roses if I had known.”

Coriolanus, who was cold-hearted and strict in public, simply waved off the nonissue. “You wore gloves, a smock, you look as beautiful as ever.”

You pressed your lips to his, disappearing to the bathroom for a shower prior to getting ready.

-----

 Attending Capitol galas and evening events as First Lady of Panem was something you weren’t sure you would ever get used to. Cameras flashing, various news outlets trying to get a snippet of you and Coriolanus talking, microphones in your faces.

Not that they would get anything, as Coriolanus was only going to give hints at his next political plans, life events, anything really, to Lucky Flickerman, who he had become rather close with following his mentorship in the Academy.

“D’you want anything to drink?” Coriolanus asked, lips brushing on the shell of your left ear.

Nodding, you two moved over to the bar for a couple glasses of posca before starting the endless circle of meeting politicians, thanking Capitol elites for their support, and the nagging question of when you two would start a family.

You had eventually been able to break free from the conversation you and Coriolanus were stuck in when Lucky Flickerman himself took the spot in behind the podium, preparing to start the night’s speeches.

Taking your seats, you felt Coriolanus place his arm on the back of your chair, hand brushing up and down the back your right bicep, goosebumps breaking out in the area.

As Lucky began his speech, you moved closer to your husband, whispering in his ear, “I can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Coriolanus looked back at you, noticing the missing hearing aid, eyebrow raised.

“I forgot to put it back in after my shower.”

Without missing a beat, Coriolanus shifted in his seat and began to interpret the speeches for you, ignoring the not-so-subtle looks you two were getting, mainly from newer guests who weren’t used to seeing the president use sign language.

At the conclusion of Lucky’s speech, a Capitol employee scuttled over to the First Couple.

“President Snow, we can have an Avox translate if you’d like.”

Frowning, Coriolanus shook his head. “That’s alright, I can interpret for my wife.”

The employee didn’t seem to expect that response, simply blinking at the couple.

“Is that a problem?” Coriolanus asked, ignoring your hand on his knee.

“N-no, not at all. I just- you’re expected to make a speech tonight, too.” The employee tried to backpedal, not wanting to ruin his career tonight.

You chose this moment to speak up, not wanting Coriolanus to overreact. “It’s fine, Coryo’s quite apt at making sure I know what’s going on. Why don’t you be a dear and get me a glass of wine?”

The employee was quick to leave the conversation, and Coriolanus looked at you. “You’re too kind to them.”

Shrugging, you took the full glass without so much as a glance in the employee’s direction. “Someone has to be.”

Coriolanus let out an airy laugh as he stood up, dusting off some nonexistent crumbs from his burgundy suit. He squeezed your arm before departing from your side, taking his place where Lucky Flickerman had left open, the weatherman-turned-host made sure to give his hand a shake as they exchanged pleasantries.

 Giving everyone a moment to settle down, Coriolanus cleared his throat before beginning, shocking nearly everyone in the room as he used both his voice and hands to conduct the speech.

“The Twenty-Fifth Hunger Games are right around the corner, so I thought I would give you all a twist I’m putting into the Reaping ceremony this year, and potentially the following Reapings. Dr. Gaul and I have had numerous discussions about how tributes are elected, and from prior games being rigged, we have initiated a couple updates to the ceremony and process.”

You were curious of the updates Coriolanus was talking about, unaware he was still dipping his toes into Gamemaking.

“Rather than each District’s mayor or elected spokesperson calling the names, we will have someone from the Capitol pull names. It will eliminate the possibility for rigging the tributes. In addition, who really wants to watch groups of children kill each other? With Reaping eligibility starting at age twelve, the Gamemakers and I have decided to increase the number of entries one gets as they age. When they reach the age of eighteen, each possible tribute will be entered into the Reaping six times.”

You weren’t able to hear everyone’s whispers, but you could see them looking at each other, taking in the news.

Coriolanus concluded his speech by introducing Dr. Gaul’s assistant, as the Head Gamemaker had something come up rendering her unable to attend the gala.

When he returned to your side, you looked him up and down. “Some updates, huh? Whose idea were they?”

Coriolanus had a smirk on his face, simply bringing his glass of posca to his lips.

-----

After all of the speeches were finished, some music began to play, letting the now tipsy and drunk Capitol elite take the dancefloor with eager steps.

Lucky Flickerman meandered over to where you and Coriolanus were still seated, discussing what Tigris deserved for her upcoming birthday.

“Not going to share a dance tonight?” He asked, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, Lucky, you should now, we don’t really dance. Only for the most special of occasions.” Coriolanus smiled, twisting the wedding band around his finger.

You wore a matching smile, though your reply wasn’t quite what Lucky expected. “And besides, Lucky, I’m not the best dancer if I can’t hear the music. You should have seen the first time we tried to dance together in the Academy.”  

The mustached man opened his mouth like he was going to reply, but nothing came out except for a chuckle.

Coriolanus hid his smile behind the glass of water he had switched to, not able to tolerate the posca and wine like he had before.

It was one of his favorite moments after you two had officially started dating. The Academy had their annual prom, though it tended to be more of a fashion show than dance, as many students arrived in extravagant outfits that were ill-suited for dancing.

You had been in a sparking silver dress, heels a gift from your mother, red-tinted lips dropping when Coriolanus asked you to dance with him.

It had been enough missteps to last a lifetime, but the two of you took it in stride, promising each other to get a proper dance instructor before your first dance at the wedding years later.

“I do hate to break up the fond memory, honey, but we should be heading out.”

Coriolanus downed the rest of his water before standing, lending you his arm as you two bid goodnight to your friends and Coriolanus’ closest colleagues, before disappearing from the gala.

-----

You walked out of the bathroom from taking your makeup off to see Coriolanus sitting on the bed, sheets pulled back for your arrival.

“Who are you thinking will be the Capitol’s representative for the Reaping?” You asked, mind still going back to the Reaping updates.

Coriolanus closed the book he was reading, eyes looking you up and down as you climbed into the bed. “I don’t know yet. Why, do you have anyone in mind?”

You shrugged, pulling the sheets up to your chest, yawn escaping your lips. “No one in particular, but I’m sure I could come up with some names.”

Coriolanus laughed, setting his book on the nightstand next to him. “We can talk about it when you’re not going to fall asleep in mere minutes. Goodnight, love.”

“Mm, ‘night, Coryo.” You whispered, letting Coriolanus’ soft breathing and the distant sounds of sirens lull you to sleep.

-----

a/n: hey was this good should i do more in this universe let me know

[wysteria-bloom]

⚝ " mine, all mine "

How do the hazbin boys kiss you

Warnings : I mentioned 'lady' in lucifer's part, but the reader can still be interpreted as whatever gender ya want. Highly suggestive on both Lucifer and Vox's parts.

Genre : Fluff, suggestive

A/n : this account has been doing so well lately and I just want to say thank you so much. I love every single comment you guys send in and the support is so appreciated. You're the reason I get the motivation to write these silly little stories so thank you.

Characters : alastor, Vox, lucifer

▢ alastor ⍋

- Sweet as cream -

"Al, can you pass me the cream?" You asked politely, stirring your coffee absentmindedly. Your eyes didn't lift from your book, too engrossed in the scene that was playing out.

Your boyfriend hummed, currently in the middle of his meal and looked at the cream sitting next to him," I'm not sure, darling. Can I?" He teased out, his ever-present grin stretching mischievously.

You blinked at his response and looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow at him," Well, I would like to think my lovely boyfriend isn't incompetent." You replied bluntly, a sweet tone to your voice as your head tilted to the side.

"Frankly? My wonderful partner is being rather rude at the moment and doesn't seem to be deserving of the cream!" He shot back just as sweetly.

"Oh-hoh? Is that right?" Your eye twitched, smile dropping ever so slightly," Well, perhaps I can show you just how rude I can be when you're banished to the couch, hm?"

"What a card to pull, my dear!" He placed his face in his hands, eyes sparkling with amusement and glee," I must really be pushing your pretty little buttons."

There was a small growl at the back of your throat but you were quick to push it down with a cough, but from Alastor's perked up ears and widening grin, he had heard you.

"Alastor, love of my life, how can I stop you from being a pain in my ass today?" You asked, making sure your tone was light with gentleness despite your foul language.

He let out his typical 'hm', his eyes narrowing in thought as one of his claws tapped his chin,"... A kiss may just suffice."

You blanched at him,"... are you that emotionally chaotic that you have to irritate me to request for a kiss?"

"..." He began to slowly push the cream towards the edge of the table, a challenging glint in his eyes.

His actions basically answered your question, however.

"Oh my-... Okay! Okay." You begrudgingly got up from your seat and walked around the table to your tall deer-man whilst he only watched you with a cute little sparkle in his eyes.

You reached a hand out gently, brushing a knuckle against his cheek before cupping it. The smile couldn't stop from spreading across your lips when you saw him lean into your loving touch. He's come so far where sudden touches are concerned and you've never been more proud.

You leaned down, smile still on your face and you took note of the prideful grin on Alastor's lips as he looked at your lips," Don't look so happy with yourself - you're being a scoundrel, yknow?"

"Oh dear, a scoundrel?" He breathed, pretending to be devastated at the revelation," Whatever can I do to get back into your good graces, my love?"

You leaned down, lips brushing his," Good question..." Your hand fell from his face and you brushed a thumb onto the cream before bringing the white treat to his lips, swiping it across his bottom one,"... Give me what I asked for from the beginning?"

And with that, Alastor closed the gap between you both, lips moulding together perfectly. You hummed into the kiss, cupping his face softly to deepen the kiss, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip to clean the cream off.

At this, the passionate kiss got all the more sweeter. Alastor's hands fell to your hips, kneading the flesh like dough as he focused on the feeling of your soft lips against his.

When you both pulled away for a break, you were left panting against eachothers lips. The red-haired demon smiled widely, eyes lidded," I trust that this has qwelled our little rivalry, hm?"

"I dunno..." you pecked his lips and gave him a teasing grin," You still seem like a scoundrel to me."

Alastor chuckled lowly, "Then let me remind you of how much of a gentleman I can be," dragging you into another sweet kiss.

▢ vox ᯤ

- underlying spice -

"Vox, you're- ah~... You're gonna be fuckin' late idiot," You grunted out as he nipped at your neck, the feeling of his teeth sending literal pulses of electricity through your veins.

He had you caged to his desk, chest pushing against yours. Your bodies were so close together that you could feel a low and pleasurable buzz between you both.

He groaned against your neck," You think I give a shit about meetings when I have you pressed against me like this?" His sharp teeth grazed your skin teasingly, but there was the underlying threat of breaking your skin with them," and you're sooo fuckin' pretty like this too... I'm offended you'd think I'd abandon you in a state like this, babe."

Your hands gripped onto his shirt, giving him a threatening undertone as well," I am not letting you back out of a meeting I've been planning for months just 'cause you wanna get your fucking dick wet." You gritted out, but still not pushing him away.

"You're so bratty today." He pulled from your neck to grin down at you crookedly, an almost lazy tilt to his eyes," only makes me want you more."

"Well, you don't get that privilege dipshit. You need to go. Now." You frowned up at him, tapping his screen with a clawed finger.

"Stop acting like you don't want me to get you off. We both know that's not fuckin' true." He deadpanned.

"I can just go to Val for help." You shrugged absentmindedly," No biggie."

There was a low growl from him as moved his hands to your thighs, lifting you onto his desk suddenly. You yelped from the action and stared on in shock and arousal.

"Stop fucking fighting me on this." He mumbled, leaning in close to your face as his eyes narrowed," as if Val couldn't compare to me- are you fucking shitting me?" He seemed genuinely offended at the notion," You're both power-bottoms, how would that even work?"

"I dunno..." you tried to gain the higher ground by playing with some lint on his suit," I could top, this one time..." you leaned close to his face, an unhinged glint in your eyes," Juuuust to piss. You. Off..."

Suddenly, Vox surged forwards, capturing your lips in his. Almost instantly, his tongue is shoved down your throat, the buzzing of electricity making you moan. You gripped onto his jacket desperately, wanting to deepen the kiss even further but he refused. He set the slow and erotic pace of the kiss, claw digging into your hips to try and control himself. His other hand entangled into your hair, tugging ever so slightly to shove his tongue further into your mouth for more exploration.

Red liquid drooled from his mouth, the same coming from you too as you gasped and moaned into this rough kiss. You could swear the buzzing coming from his tongue was turning your brain into mush, making you forget about your previous grievances and think about him, him, him.

When he pulled from you, trail of red saliva connecting your lips as you panted breathlessly.

"... You're such a whiny fucking baby about everything." You grumbled.

Vox only grinned maniacally, knowing that meant you had given in," and you're easy to push over the edge, baby."

To celebrate his accomplishment of getting out of a meeting to rail you instead, he played an applause sound and people cheering from his screen to really rub it in your face, grin widening at the sight of the twitch of a smile on your lips.

"Oh, shut up!" You laughed out before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss.

▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝

- taste of home -

"Hon, I'm happy for you and everything, but isn't this a little bit excessive?" You mumbled out, a look of concern on your face as you watched him run around his office like a headless chicken to find a thin paintbrush.

"Pffft- Whaaat? No!" He waved his hand dismissively and grinned like a madman as he tinkered away at a little duck, hand painting meticulously," this is the perfect birthday present for her!" He then looked at you from over his shoulder, giving you lidded eyes and a charming grin," just trust the process, pretty."

Your heart fluttered at the nickname and you huffed, giving into his wild ideas as usual. His wonderful mind was a force to be reckoned with, and when he has a plan then there's no stopping him.

"You've been painting ducks for the passed three hours, though." You pointed out and walked over to him when his back was turned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind. He didn't even react to your touch, continuing to paint the little ducky like it was his final mission in life.

But he did lean into your touch, however. Maybe he isn't a lost cause after all.

He didn't answer you, but you couldn't help but watch him. His hand moving methodically. You already knew what duck this was going to be, it was almost a perfect replica of Charlie.

But as a duck. Duh.

You smiled softly at the sight of it, watching for a minute or so before you leaned down to his neck, opening your mouth to whisper," Earth to Lou~..." you cooed out gently.

His shoulders tensed and his movements paused, a shiver running down his spine. He bit his lip and then gulped," y-yea-... ahem... yeah?" He could feel his cheeks growing hot at the press of your warm lips to the back of his neck.

"When are you gonna take a break?..." You hummed, trailing your kisses across his neck.

He set the duck down slowly, your affection having a grip on him,"... Now seems like a good time." He hummed back, head tilting to the side to give you more access.

"What a good answer~" you breathed out prasingly, lips sucking a little love bite to the back of his neck which made him moan lowly.

"Y-you're killing me here, beautiful..."

You chuckled," Kind of the idea, hon." Tapping his shoulder, you kissed his cheek," how about you turn around, hm? You can make it up to me with a kiss."

"Make... make it up to you?"

"Make up for ignoring me."

He smirked and turned around in your arms, wrapping his own around your waist, chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you," Oh yeah? My pretty lady wanted attention, huh?" He teased out gently with that heart-warmingly charming grin.

"No no no. You don't get to turn this on me, you tease." You grunted out, brows furrowing as you tapped his forehead.

"And why not?" He challenged, grin never falling.

"... because."

"What groundbreaking reasoning!" He laughed and then pulled you into his lap. A hand trailed up and down your spine lightly, the other moving to pull you closer into him by the waist," If you wanted attention, you could have just said, honey."

"You would have won, then."

"Who says I'm not winning right now?"

You pressed your forehead against his, eyes narrowing," Me."

"... and your word is final, yeah?" His amusement was clear," The King of Hell's word is worthless compared to yours?"

You giggled," correct."

He huffed out a breath of amusement and brought one of your hands to his lips, licking your wrist with a sultry glint to his eyes," Oh, wow... then I guess I really have to step my game up then, eh?"

Watching him with warm cheeks, you nodded with a gentle smile to your lips, "You do."

He brought you close to his face by cupping the back of your neck, pressing a gentle yet passionate kiss to your lips. His tongue immediately licking your bottom lip for permission to enter. You opened your mouth for him, humming lowly in pleasure as your hands ran through his hair.

His lips were warm and soft, they felt like home. The gentleness balanced out with the dominance and sent the perfect shivers throughout your body.

His touch to your back was soothing, claws sliding up and down; drawing patterns, spelling out your name and then his and then drawing a heart around it.

Fuck, he was so cheesy but it only made your love grow more.

[poppitron360]

“Trust me, Hephaestus cabin doesn’t see fire powers as cool. Nyssa told me that they’re super rare. When a demigod like me comes around bad things happen. Really bad.”

“Maybe it’s the other way around,” Jason suggested. “Maybe people with special gifts show up when bad things are happening because that’s when they’re needed most.”

Leo cleared away the plates. “Maybe. But I’m telling you… It’s not always a gift.”

Jason fell silent. “You’re talking about your mom, aren’t you? The night she died.”

Leo didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The fact that he was quiet, not joking around- that told Jason enough.

“Leo, her death wasn’t your fault. Whatever happened that night- it wasn’t because you could summon fire. This Dirt Woman, whoever she is, has been trying to ruin you for years, mess up your confidence, take away everything you care about. She’s trying to make you feel like a failure. You’re not. You’re important.”

“That’s what she said,” Leo looked up, his eyes full of pain. “She said I was meant to do something important- something that would make or break that big prophecy about the seven demigods. That’s what scares me. I don’t know if I’m up to it.”

Jason wanted to tell him that everything would be all right, but it would’ve sounded fake. Jason didn’t know what would happen. They were demigods, which meant sometimes things didn’t end okay. Sometimes you got eaten by the Cyclops.

____________________________________________________________________

“The Lost Hero” Pg. 285-286.

A REMINDER- JASON:

Told Leo he was needed

Was able to see through the mask of the jokes

Told Leo his mom’s death wasn’t his fault

Told him that Gaea was only doing it to get inside his head and that he shouldn’t blame himself (FACTS)

Told him he wasn’t a failure

Told him he was important

Wanted to tell him everything would be alright

Generally just listened and was there for him and made himself a safe place where Leo could open up and be vulnerable

Earlier in this scene he also told him his powers were cool and that he wasn’t a freak.

Is too pure for this world

Several times throughout the book he comments on how awesome Leo is and how hard he’s working

Is an amazing boyfriend best friend to Leo

What did Calypso do?:

Yelled at him

Threw stuff at him

Told him she didn’t want him because he didn’t look as “Heroic” as Percy or Odysseus

Made him sleep outside

Probably a lot more that I’ve forgotten about

Just generally treats him like shit

And that’s only HoH- I’m still reading BoO

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Dirty Girl

Negan x Reader

18+ ONLY / Requests are: OPEN

Summary: Negan fucks you up against a fence.

CW: daddy kink, gags, public sex, p in v, no pronouns but the reader has femme anatomy, use of 'good girl'

___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

You knew it was wrong. You knew it was, but you also were not the kind of person to get hung up on something if it wasn’t actively hurting someone. And the thrill of having Negan- public enemy number one balls deep in your cunt was too good to pass up. And he knew it too. 

“Yeah, you like that, baby, huh?” The man in question grunted into your ear, each word punctuated with hard thrusts up into the spot that makes you see stars. “If you can’t be quiet I’ll have to gag you, doll,” he growls, making you clench and another barely contained whimper escape you. 

Negan had you pressed up against the cool corrugated fencing, your hands splayed out in front of you as he bent you over and pressed himself inside you over and over again. Your cheek pressed into the dust on the fence, absolutely smudging across your skin. Knowing how dirty this was, and how your face was now smudged with evidence of your acts sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

“Oh, you’re such a dirty girl, huh?” Negan grunted, wrapping his hand around a fistfull of your hair and yanking you back closer to his face. With your mouth agape from pleasure, it took no effort for Negan to reach around and shove his red bandana into your mouth, laughing as you garbled a response through the fabric. “Oh, such a dirty girl for daddy, baby,” he laughed, releasing your hair with one last tug. 

Your head dropped forward, the muscles in your neck giving out with the pleasure. Negan wrapped his hands around your hips and gripped tight. You were sure they were going to leave bruises by the afternoon, never mind the morning. But you’d love them anyway, deep purple reminders of a good, hard fuck. 

Your fingernails scraped against the metal of the fence, your jaw starting to ache around the bandana. And all the while, Negan continued to growl filth from behind you. How you were the one being the problem was beyond you when he was the one who couldn’t shut up. Not that you wanted him to, of course.

“Not such a Chatty Cathy now, are we?” He asked, squeezing hard on your left him and pounding his cock into you. “No, see? Now you’re being a good girl. Such a good girl for daddy, baby girl.” 

You whimpered around the gag and he chuckled hoarsely.

“Oh, what’s the matter? I just can’t seem to hear you, doll. What do you need, huh?” One of his hands trails down around your hip to lightly press against your clit. “What, you need daddy to rub your pretty little clit, baby?”

Your eyes squeezed shut at a particularly rough slide of his hips and he gave your cunt a slap, causing your hips to jerk.

“Uh-uh, I do believe you’re ignoring me, darling. And that- is not on.” 

You look over your shoulder to glare at the man. He knows full well you can’t answer him even if you wanted to. He just liked to torture you, the bastard. You press your ass back against him just to revel in the groan it pulls from him.

“Oh-hoh,” he grins. “Fuck, you are dirty, aren’t you? Taking daddy’s dick from behind like that? Knowing that someone could just come around that corner and see you taking it like such a whore.” He lets go of your hip and lands a hard slap to your ass, causing your head to jerk and you to cry out against the gag. “Fuck, I felt that, baby- do you want someone to catch us? You do, don’t you. Mm, daddy’s learning all sorts of things about you tonight, doll.”

Your arms begin to shake as he gives in and starts rubbing your clit hard and fast. You’re not going to last long, and you both know it. He rubs over the spot on your ass he slapped in a small mercy. You whine, and your hips buck forward towards his hand on your clit and away from the sting.. 

“My, oh my, you’re desperate for it, aren’t you,” he says, gripping the globe of a cheek and sliding two fingers up and down either side of your clit. “So close for me.” A statement of fact, and not a question.

Your head drops forward in a nod, unable to form speech. Not that you could verbalise it anyway. He laughs and plows his hips so hard into you that his balls slap up against his hand. 

“Cum for me,” he orders. “Right now. Cum for daddy, baby.” 

One, two, three more thrusts of his cock into your g-spot is all it takes before you’re cumming around him, walls spasming and knees buckling with the effort of holding yourself up. He laughs, rubbing your clit through your orgasm. You whimper, and your hands slide down the fence. 

He fucks you through it, thrusts turning sloppy now that you’ve reached your orgasm. You know he’s close, and you clench your cunt around him rhythmically to get him there. 

He surges forward and presses you flat up against the fence, arms around your torso to hold you in place. He fucks you hard and fast, hot breath against the back of your ear and groaning into your neck. 

And then he finally cums, biting down into the meat of your shoulder and fingers pinching at your nipples. His hips stutter up into you and you feel his release spurting inside you, filling you up. 

You let out a satisfied groan, wiggling your hips against him to milk him for all he’s worth. He chuckles lowley in your ear and presses a soft kiss to the bite he’s left on your shoulder. 

Once he’s spent, Negan pulls out of you, admiring the way his seed drips out of you with a growled “fuck, baby.” 

You grunt around the gag and he laughs, spinning you around to face him. He presses up against you, running a hand over your clothed tit to give it a squeeze.

“Oh, I'm sorry, darling. How rude of me,” he grins and places a thumb on your lower lip. “Here I am, putting myself back together and you’re standing here a whole mess. Open wide for daddy.” 

You stretch your jaw open just a little wider and he pulls the gag out, grinning when you smack your lips and grimace at the cottony taste.

“Oh, there you go. Okay, baby, lets get you cleaned up. Then we’ll get us some of that damn good lemonade. What do you say?” 

Your lips spread out into a smile, and you agree with him. Negan steps aside and allows you to start back towards the building you called home. He gives one more appreciative grunt at the sight of your ass in that dress, and wraps his arm around your waist, the two of you walking back home. 

And if the guards noticed you had a little bit of a limp, then that was no one else's business but yours.