#Also in general I think his bones would hurt

[solazu1]

“Do you remember anything at all?”

I don't see enough people bring up much about Jay’s whole state of being after the events of 72 and like the whole entirety of 74. Or maybe they have and I forgot, I dunno

[skulls-and-wishbones]

I’ve been cross referencing the day I picked up Dazai manga panels and how he’s described in the fifteen light novel and I’m going crazy.

In the light novel he’s described as lanky a lot, and he’s definitely supposed to be a very skinny stereotypical teenage boy with messy hair and stuff. But when you look at the day I picked up Dazai he’s also just so

small

Like look at the baby. He’s so little. Obviously we all know that he’s very unhealthy in the mafia and in general. But it is hurting me in ways I cannot explain to see it so plainly.

also he’s supposed to be sixteen in the day I picked up Dazai - which means that he’s probably been getting even worse as he gets older. Considering he’s consistently described as tall and menacing in the narration and by other characters. At 16 he’s probably 100 lbs soaking wet.

(it’s also sort of funny that Mori is so scared of him. I think if you kicked him hard enough all of his bones would break.)

[onetoomanyfandomfixations]

Hazbin Hotel Characters React to You Asking for a Hug (PART 2)

Buckle in bitches, its time for some COMFORT

Lucifer

Guys he’s SO nervous

“Oh really? You, uh, you want a hug from me? Are you sure?”

Nervous laughter 100

Takes a hot minute for him to adjust, but DOES give good hugs

WING HUGS. Y’ALL KNOW HOW I GET ABOUT WING HUGS.

Y’all gotta remember he’s a dad

So good, firm dad hug

His hands are clammy af, but don’t mention that pls

Gives you the opportunity to talk out whatever’s going through your head

Actually has really insightful advice

Like his daughter, honestly so honoured you chose to come to him

Lute

“Must I?”

Begrudging as FUCK

But she’ll do it

If she has to

Stiff, awkward hugs that last for 5 seconds tops

No wing hugs :(

“Human souls are weird”

Tries to teach you how to fight so you can use sparring as a “normal” coping mechanism

Adam

As much as I hate him, would give BANGIN hugs

“Fuck, you wan’ a hug? Fuck yeah bitch, get over here!”

Super enthusiastic about it????

Like, gives you shit, but its still one of the tightest and most excited hugs you’ve ever received

Very very warm

You will probably overheat if you stay there too long

WING HUGS!!!!!!!

Will be extra touchy with you from here on out

Arm around the shoulder, etc

Carmilla

Is she mom, or mommy? Jury’s still out on that one.

Will never ever refuse you if you need a hug

Will, however, try to pull you aside and make it a private moment

Not a big fan on PDA, but your wellbeing takes priority

Makes you rest your head against her chest, no matter how tall you are

If you tell her what’s going on, will fix it

You don’t even need to ask.

She’s gonna check up on you after at LEAST twice

Rosie

Is she mom or mommy part 2: electric boogaloo

Drops EVERYTHING

Ushers you into a sunroom and brews you a pot of tea to share

And grabs snacks, of course

Definitely forgets if cannibalism makes you queasy

Holds you hand from across the table and encourages you to talk it out with her

A lil bit pushy about it, but its from a place of love

But if you need it, will definitely hug you

Another one with bone shattering hugs

Her hands are cold af tho, so beware

Vox

Tbh doesn’t hear you the first time, he’s super focused on whatever else he’s doing

Once he hears you/it registers to him, he’s pretty confused

“Why do you need a hug?”

Only hugs you if y’all are really close

Generally not a touchy person

He won’t stop whatever he’s doing though

Most likely will just sit you in his lap, so he can cuddle And work

Multitasking, bitch

Don’t do it while he’s actively broadcasting though

Super against PDA (bc he’s embarrassed) and will probably snap at you if you break this boundary

Velvette

“Wot. Why?”

Also confused

Like Vox, usually to busy to properly hug you

But will let you stick around and lay all over her while she works

Anyone who questions it dies Very quickly, and Very grotesquely

Very protective

“Babes, do I need to hurt someone? Coz you Know I’ll do it”

Probs takes selfies of you hanging off of her bc she thinks its cute

Will dress you up to try and make you feel better

Valentino

Seek psychological help 💕

I know he’s got a sexy voice, but you know I’m right

[ctrlhope]

The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[another-random-paradise]

Hii!! If you’d wanna, can you make short headcanons about the house wardens except Kalim and Idia with a reckless reader, like (for example); is chasing after grim for doing something stupid and sees a shorter but dangerous short cut and takes it, almost breaking a leg but they don’t bc their crush (not bf yet) catches them with their magic, (I believe he only said five people, but if not five, I would like if it had Malleus, Leona riddle, and Azul)

(btw I really like your writing! Keep it up, but don’t forget to take care of yourself <33)

A Rewarding Chase

Tysm for the request and the kind words!! It was very fun to write! I took the chasing grim idea and ran with it- made sure to try and not make it to repetitive!! I do have a four character limit, if you want the others too feel free to send a second request (I wouldn't mind, i had so much fun writing this-)! And take care of yourself too <3

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Reckless Reader being saved by him while chasing grim

Characters: Malleus, Leona, Riddle, Azul

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Mentions of possible Injuries(Nobody actually gets Hurt)

Malleus

-It's already rather late, Malleus is on another one of his evening walks.. when he suddenly hears someone running, and you shouting

-He decides to check it out, because chances are, you're being reckless again. Also because he would get to see you again :) Nevermind that he saw you earlier during classes

-When he does, he, just as expected, saw you chasing after Grim once again, who knew what the little guy had done this time? He decided to just watch at first- at least until you once again decided to do something awfully reckless

-Grim decided to go down a steep staircase, and instead of running after him, you decide to jump down the stairs, in oder to catch up faster. And if there is one thing Malleus knew, it was the fact that humans are rather fragile, and that you would break your legs doing this Jump

-While very much shocked, he acted almost on impulse, the young fae Prince pulls out his Pen and stops you mid air. Being the powerful mage that he is, you can't wriggle yourself out of his magics grip. Once he sat you down at the top of the staircase, he was kind enough to also get Grim back

-A soft smile settles on his face as he questions your antiques, wondering if you weren't aware of your own fragility. You are, you just decide to ignore it!

-After sending Grim home, he asks you to join him on his nightly walk, he would love to know more about your impulsive decisions! He really just wants to know more about you in general. And in typical Malleus fashion, he doesn't even notice the faint blush on your cheeks!

-He tells you to call him, should Grim cause trouble again, he knows he wouldn't be able to change your reckless nature. And he doesn't want to- it is another part of you, and he loves all of you. He just doesn't want you to get hurt <3

Leona

-He has never been awake this fast.

-Leona was just once again napping in the botanical garden- When the sound of shouting woke him up, yours and Grim's shouting to be precise. He didn't think much of it, this happend pretty often after all, but nonetheless he decided to lazily open up one eye

-And thank the seven he did, because now he was very much awake and staring at you, as you climbed one of the tallest trees in the entirety of the garden.

-Turns out, Grim has decided to climb up a tree, and you being you, went after him. Well, people tend to be heavier than cats, so eventually a branch broke underneath you.

- The tree you were on wasn't at all small, the fall would very much end in multiple broken bones, if not worse!

-He quickly pulled out his pen, catching you. Grim got away in the end, while Leona scolded you told you off. He complained about your antics interrupting his nap, and that he won't catch you next time. He absolutely will, and the actual reason he's upset about your antics is that it worry's him

-He might just force you to stay with him, so that you, and i quote; "Won't cause any more trouble", but really he just wants to be close to you. But then again, could it really be considered forcing, if you willingly agree? who'd say no to napping with their crush, after all ;)

-He might occasionally glance at you, while trying to go back to napping. He isn't entirely sure how he fell for someone as reckless as you, but you know what they say: Opposites attract :)   

Riddle

-It was just supposed to be a normal unbirthday party.

-Riddle, of course, invited you, like he always does! Pretty much the entire dorm except maybe Deuce know about his crush on you by now And you in Grim were pretty much a package, you invite one, the other comes along.

-Riddle doesn't mind, of course! He does Who was he to demand time alone with you, it's not like your dating! He really wishes you were... were it not for Grim being such a trouble maker

-Grim had decided to throw a tantrum after not getting "fed enough", as in, he got the same amount of tarts as everybody else, before running off. You run after him, and in turn Riddle goes after you, as he already knows how reckless you can be

-And thank the seven that he did, as just as he finally catches up, he sees you trying to jump over a Rose bush to get to Grim- Sure it would break no bones, but the amount of thorns could severely cut you, and leave scars, or worse get infected!- The small Redhead is panicking to say the least

-He quickly takes his pen and uses magic to pull you back, almost making you bump into him in his panic!

-He scolds you almost immediately, if you were a part of his dorm he would have collared you! He wouldn't have, this man plays favorites Though you can't help but notice how not even once he brought up how you could have ruined the Roses or your Uniform.. All he cared bout was your health! And that made you happy, I mean, your crush actually cares about you!

-After helping you catch Grim, the party was already over, so he bids you farewel, sending you back to ramshackle, before both of you return to your respective rooms to comprehend the situation and blush :)

Azul

-How someone as organized as him could fall for someone as reckless as you? He doesn't know, but he did.

-This is proven as, just like always, he personally came to attend to you when you came to eat dinner at the Mostro lounge. He says it's because it's a busy night, but really it's an excuse to see you! And you don't question it because you get to spend more time with him because of it! 

-But alas, Grim didn't wanna behave, so after being told that they were out of his favorite food, he took of and somehow climbed onto one of the lamps. 

-You weren't having it, not today. You usually try to hold your reckless nature back in front of Azul, not wanting to terrify your crush, but Grim's tantrum just ruined the great conversation you were having with Azul ,ordering desert!

-So, you climb onto your seat and leap at the lamb! Considering you aren't focused on landing properly, but on catching grim, chances are very high you'll Hurt yourself, most likely straining your ankle

-So, Azul being a Gentleman, as well as not wanting to taint his reputation by letting a guest get hurt He'll hate himself if he just let's you get hurt, uses his magic to catch you, as he isn't the strongest physically 

-He sends the eels after Grim while taking you to the VIP lounge. You think he's about to ban you for live, but actually he checks up on you, making sure you weren't injured in the process of the jump, as well as that his magic had no side effects 

-You do have to stop him from banning grim for live

-He may just draft up a contract about being more careful with your antics, or to at least think twice before acting, you don't even realize how much you worry him! You most likely refuse, knowing that you can't just stop yourself from, well, being yourself. But he does make you sign a contract to not speak about what happened.

-You leave, smiling to yourself, now knowing that your crush cares about you, as he sits in his office blushing about the whole situation, just hoping the twins don't walk in 

First Riddle request!! Very exited because I love the mini Tyrant <3 Also, for Azul's part, for one line, I wanted to originally write 'Your crush' but decided to change it to Azul, and almost published this with it saying 'your Azul' I-

Feedback is welcomed, just be nice!

Remember to drink water! Have a nice day/night <3

[lyneira]

-> random, smutty headcanons of the hsr men that have been plaguing my mind

SMUT - MINORS DNI

fem!reader x gepard, jing yuan, dan heng, sampo

cw: body worship, cunnilingus, tiddy sucking, 69, praise kink, penetration, implied creampie

GEPARD

I see Gepard being into body worship 'cause heck, he would kiss the ground you walk on in general. This dude would be such a devoted lover.

During love making, he would be so slow and careful with you, especially if it was your first time with him.

He'd leave kisses all over your body, and would stop at your most sensitive spots to give them the extra affection that they deserved.

Fondling your breasts, he'd lean down to circle his tongue around one of the buds, before puckering his lips to suck on it. And as he sucked, he'd softly moan, muttering how soft they were.

Then, trailing a line of kisses down your stomach and down to your heat, he'll place a quick kiss to your clit before sliding his tongue up and down your folds and finally inserting the wet muscle into your hole.

He'd most definitely take a lot of time down there too, taking the time savor your flavor and letting his lips become accustomed to the shape of your lower ones. Look down at his face and see how flushed his cheeks would be, hot from the heat and hot from the drunkeness he has from your pussy, humming with delight and slurring out multiple, "you taste so good's"

He too, would especially be diligent with observing each of your own reactions you had to his touch, his kisses, his tongue, and to his thrusts that would caress your walls and deeply kiss your core with each stroke.

To any sharp gasp, furrow of your brows, or any cry that you'd let out, he'd immediately pause his motions and ask if you were okay. The last thing he would ever want to do in such a vulnerable and intimate activity would be to hurt you.

Let's be honest, with the way he would be touching and fucking you slowly and gently, none of your reactions would be derived from any real pain. So you must assure him they were simply from the pleasure he was giving you.

Encourage him not to hold back, and assure him that it's okay. You'll say the safeword if you truly are in pain anyway.

And lord when he no longer restricts himself from all of the love he wants to give you at last, you'll feel it.

His motions will become much quicker, and much eager. He's sure to shake the bed a lot with all the speed and pressure he's thrusting into you, lol.

Prior to this, he had never been really vocal about his carnal desires. He'd probably think that they were improper and might give you the impression that he was a lech.

Yet, now that you've given him reassurance, he'll be comfortable enough to let you know all of the numerous positions he wants to make love to you in; how he wants to feel the weight of your legs hanging over his shoulders, wanting to feel the way you squeeze around him so tightly, and feel the way you'd release yourself all over him.

With all of the various ways a person can show love to another, his desire is to try and do all of them. He love you that much and wants to make sure you know it.

On that note, I also see him as the type to chant multiple, "I love you's", when he's close to cumming. And if he can, he'd hold you tightly, needing to feel you in his arms as he finally releases.

I'd also like to add that he probably has a praise kink. Idk, I just feel it in my bones. To show him appreciation for what he does and how good he's doing would make him so happy, both inside and outside of the bedroom.

JING YUAN

'Kay I honestly don't know much about him (as I still haven't gotten too far into the story) but I think he'd be the type to enjoy having you do most of the work in bed...at first

He'll enjoy you sucking him off and riding him while he simply lays back, eyes half-lidded, wrapped up in pleasure, and letting out occasional, guttural groans

But the moment you feel your legs giving out from bouncing on his cock for so long, he will be there to take over. His hands will immediately be at your hips, and he'll lean over to your ear, whispering lowly, "You did well, darling... allow me to take care of the rest". He'll have a smile on his face as he ponders over what he has in store for you.

And before you can move or say a word, he'll then continue to thrust up into you while slamming your hips down at the same time so that his cock penetrates the deepest part of your core.

You'll let out a sharp gasp and would instinctively grab hold of his shoulders as it felt like he was splitting you open with each thrust

He'll continue to fuck you with that sheer amount of force, that your body eventually gives in and he's fucking you as if you were a ragdoll.

Anyway, I think he'd be a big fan of 69, with him lying down and you on top of him. Whatever your weight is, it won't matter. He'll be able hold you up while eating you out and relishing the way you'd suck his dick.

SAMPO

He looks like the type that is determined to make you cry and whimper during the act, but in actuality, I think he'll be crying and whimpering by the end of it too LOL

During sex, he'll like to taunt you by denying you your orgasm, often pleasuring you with his tongue and quickly pulling it back when he knows you're close.

He will be borderline humiliating you, saying things like, "Aw, can't take it anymore? Does my little slut want to cum? Well, you'll have to beg for it, sweetie" while massaging your inner thighs, knowing how it gets you even more worked up

But don't worry, you'll have your chance for revenge when you're riding him. Simply insert the tip of his cock inside of you, and sure, slide up and down it a bit, but nothing more. The way your walls squeeze him so deliciously will make him try to thrust up as he'd need more stimulation, but don't allow him to. That's when you'll be able to make him beg as well

DAN HENG

Love-making with Dan Heng would be special. Rarely is he ever so willing to be vulnerable like this, giving both of yourselves to each other, both body and soul, but you are so dear to him that he feels safe to do so.

I think sex wouldn't be iniated by carnal desire alone (at least on his part) but would mostly be initiated by his emotional needs, particularly when he needed your comfort, your touch, and your essence; or when he fears of losing you, his desperation will settle in and give him the need to hold you protectively to him; and other than that, like anyone else, he'll do it when words can no longer express how much he loves and adores you.

And depending on which reason, his touches can range from being gentle and soft, to being desperate and needy.

Either way, what will never change is his praises and words of assurance to you. He'll always make sure to tell you how good you feel, how well you're taking him, and how beautiful you are.

He'll tell you all this as he fucks you, and most importantly, he'll ask you if you understand how precious you are to him.

And if you couldn't answer quickly even after all the love he's given you and had thrusted into you, even to the point of overflowing, then he wouldn't stop until he made sure you understood it, continuing on, no matter how long it would take

a/n: It's clear to see that my favorite is Gepard, haha

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[welcometowhore-rrorville]

𝒦𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝐼𝓃 𝐵𝑒𝒹

Featuring: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, smutty headcanons, virginity mention, dirty talk, rough sex, just general nasty things

Michael Myers

Let’s be honest—this man was a virgin before you showed up

He was in a mental institution from a young age—not exactly the best place to fuck

Still, that certainly didn’t stop him

He picked up on what to do fast—it’s not all that difficult

Still, he definitely focused on himself

Whether or not you came was not his problem

You have to take matters into your own hands when it comes to that, using your fingers to work at your clit

Most of the time your body is jostled around to much to do so

He’s not gentle

Whatsoever

Things will be broken

The bed?

A bone?

Who knows

You have so so many marks

Bruises

Cuts

You always look like you fell through a wood chipper 

It’s not like you could reason with him, though

“Hey, can you, I don’t know, be gentle for once and not fuck me against a countertop?”

Yea, that would go over well

He gets. . . better. . . eventually

Still mostly selfish

But may rub against your clit as he’s pounding into you

By accident?

Unclear

Expect to walk with a permanent limp

RIP

Definitely into knife-play

So many shredded clothes

C’mon, what’d you expect?

The mask stays on during sex

Obviously

If he’s super comfortable he might pull it up enough to bite you

But don’t expect to catch a glimpse of his face

After-care? What’s that?

You clean yourself up 99% of the time

The only time he’s ever done anything was when you passed out during sex and woke up in your bed

Other than that, you don’t expect him to provide any cuddles 

He doesn’t even sleep in the same bed at night

Jason Voorhees

Tries his best to be so so so gentle with you

Also a virgin before you showed up

Not many people were lining up to fuck an undead monster haunting a summer camp

He’s. . . big. . . everywhere

It takes a while before you’re even able to take him properly

It’s not that you were unprepared, but at the slightest flinch of your face Jason would pause and refuse to touch you again for hours

You made sure to explain that you were fine and that you weren’t made of glass

But he was still petrified of hurting you

Still, when he finally calms enough to fully fuck you one night, you’re seeing stars

He’s slow and cautious, but eventually something lights a fire within him

Rubs his masked face into your neck apologetically as he rams into you

When you’re walking funny the next day he carries you everywhere

You don’t blame him for getting carried away sometimes, and even enjoy a little roughness more-often-than-not

He tries his best with after-care but is pretty clueless as what to do with you

When you’re exhausted and curled in on yourself he thinks he’s permanently hurt you

You tell him gently to run you a bath

Will attach himself to your hip and snuggle you until one of you is forced to get up

Nestles his masked nose against any marks he may have caused, letting out a low whimper

You run your hand down his back

“I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. I’m okay.”

Tries to make your pleasure his number one priority

Will listen intently as you bashfully explain what you want and like

Does as told

He’s a little rough, massive fingers toying with your clit hard enough to have you wincing

But eventually he gets the hang of it

Refuses to cum until you have

Even when you’re giving him head, he always has to be touching you in some way, getting you off just as much as your getting him off

Sometimes he can’t help himself and cums before you, only to let out a low whine of disappointment, like he was ashamed of himself

You’re never far behind, anyways

One of the most selfless lovers you’ve ever had

The fact he doesn't speak doesn't even cross your mind

He gets his points across fine with his actions and occasional low rumbles 

And you were never much for dirty talk, anyway 

Bo Sinclair

He’s a wild-card 

Some days he’s feeling generous enough to nestle his head between your legs, other days he’s got you gagging on his dick until can’t breathe

You’re unsure of what impacts his attitude, every night getting ready to expect something different

You supposed he had a lot of things happen in life, you couldn’t blame him for being a little hot-and-cold about things

Regardless of what’s happening, he’s got a lot to say about it

If he’s not growling in your ear, teasing you with dirty words as he rams into you, then he’s moaning loudly against your lips or neck

You don’t think he’s ever quiet for more than a few seconds

What he says varies, too

Some days it’s nothing but praise

“Whatta good girl you are. C’mon, sweetheart. You can do it. Almost there—there it is, darlin’. Don’t you look like a beauty chokin’ on my cock?” 

“That’s it, beautiful. Keep sayin’ my name. Feel good, huh? Don’t close those pretty lips of yours. I wanna hear ya when I fuck ya.” 

Other days he’s grabbing your ass harshly, scolding you for muffling your moans against his neck

“The fuck you think you’re doin’? You’re nothin’ but a whore, don’t try ‘nd be bashful now.”

“What a slut. Look how wet you are for me. Gettin’ off on the thought of me fuckin’ you, bitch?”

It’s enough to give you whiplash

Still, you can’t complain that it’s boring

And it’s not like you don’t get your own enjoyment out of it

Whether or not he lingers after he fucks you depends on nothing in particular

Sometimes he’ll pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead, mumbling praises in your ear as he caresses your body

Other times he’ll put his boxers back on and rest against the door frame, just staring at you as you clean yourself up

He never leaves without making sure you’re alright, though

No matter how rough he was with you he gently traces over your body, making sure nothing hurt to bad

Then he’s back to his cocky self, trying to pretend he didn’t just treat you like a princess

There’s always marks littering your neck and shoulders

The sight of them is enough to let any tourists know to fuck off

You tried to cover them once with a high collared shirt but it only ended with more hickies and bite marks, this time high enough on your neck that even a turtle neck couldn’t hide them

He’s possessive, always having an arm or hand around you when talking to strangers that come by

He’ll, even around his own brothers he’s like that

He’s always smacking your ass or planting a kiss to your lips, leaving you to yelp in surprise

This man has a breeding kink

That’s just the facts

The thing is, the idea of having a kid makes him gag

He’s not a fan of the little gremlins

But something about you—thighs wrapped around his hips as he cums into you—the fullness of your cunt—the slight bulge of your belly—always gets him going

Maybe it’s the distant idea of raising a half-normal family for once

For now, you stay on birth control

Vincent Sinclair

He’s extremely introverted and self-conscious

You have to be the one to initiate most things

Even then he’s unsure of himself

He’s afraid he’ll scare you somehow

The first time you two are intimate it’s simply soft touches, your lips trailing over his skin as your hands stroke at his dick

It’s not sex

It’s too soft for that

You hated to use the word love-making, but you supposed that’s what it was

After his confidence is built up enough to take control, he catches on fast

He has a niche for precise finger-work, given his work as a sculptor, and has you cumming on his hands more times than you can count

He keeps his mask on 99% of the time

You don’t force him to do otherwise

It’s his comfort object

As long as he’s happy, you’re happy

Still, there are times where he pulls it off, only to hide himself between your legs

The first time he ate you out, he insisted upon a blanket draped over your bottom half, but he’s past that now, knelt down in front of you, fingers clutched against your thighs as he pushes his tongue further inside of you

You make sure to praise him every time he makes you feel good—wanting him to know it was him getting you off

It definitely helped his self-esteem

He’s still distant when others are around, but you’ve gotten to the point where you can sit in his lap and play with his hair while Bo lounges on the couch

Bo still gives you two playful taunts, but he’s just happy his brother found someone

Though he really needs to invest in some ear-muffs if you keep up with the moaning at god-knows-how-late-at-night

*cough* waxplay *cough*

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[springtyme]

51 ✨ for carmy 🐻

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐀𝐭 𝐀 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 ♡

Thank you for the request anon, I hope you like it! 💕

Carmen Berzatto x reader || Carmy playlist || Main masterlist

51: “I can’t live without you.”

The strain of Carmy's new responsibilities at The Beef has taken a toll on your relationship, leaving you worried and questioning your place in his life. And you're scared, but not for the reason Carmy thinks.

Angst (with a happy ending). Hurt/comfort. Mention of what happened to Michael.

word count: 2.1k

You stand in the dimly lit hallway of your apartment, anxiously tapping your foot against the worn floorboards. It’s late, much later than Carmen had told you he would be home. The clock on the wall mocks you with its ticking, each second feeling like an eternity.

Your relationship with Carmen has been strained lately, the weight of his responsibilities after taking over The Beef after Micheal’s death has taken a toll on both of you.

You and Carmen had met in New York, about two years ago, when he had moved into the apartment next to yours. You had not looked for a relationship and neither had Carmen, but it was like fate had kept pushing the two of you together. 

It had just started out with a few chance encounters in the hallway or at the local grocery store, with him stumbling slightly over his words as he asked you about your day or offered to carry your groceries. 

But it had been a power outage which had left the whole building in darkness that really had brought you together. You had fumbled your way out in the hallway to figure out if it was just your apartment that had lost power or if it was the whole building. And that’s when you had bumped into Carmen, literally. His strong arms had wrapped around you instinctually, preventing you from falling on your ass. 

You had candles in your apartment, unlike Carmen so you had invited him in to share the light and wait for the power to be restored. As the hours passed, you two ended up talking and getting to know each other better. It was a simple yet intimate evening, and from that moment on, you felt a connection that you couldn’t ignore and a sweet friendship had blossomed between you.

He didn’t have much time off, literally working at one of the best restaurants in the world, but the moments you did spend together were cherished, and it hadn’t taken long before your connection had grown even stronger, evolving into something more than just friendship and eventually blossoming into a real and deep relationship. 

You had not hesitated to say yes to move back to Chicago with him after his brother had passed away.

You never got to meet Michael, Carmen didn’t really speak to him through all the time you dated, you've never fully understood what had happened between them, but you have a feeling that Carmen didn't really knew it either, and he has never really liked talking about his family in general, but you do know that he loved Michael a lot.

You had tried to convince him to go to the funeral, telling him that you would be there for him, but he had kept shooting the idea down. He kept excusing it by saying that he couldn’t, his contract at the French Laundromat hadn’t expired yet, and despite that being true, you had a feeling that going to the funeral would make the loss of his brother feel all the more real, and that was something he wasn’t ready for.

You also had the feeling that he didn’t want to see his mother, at least not in that setting, so you had just decided that you would let him grieve in his own way, and just be there for him in whatever way he needed you to.

It had been the same you had done with his job after all.  

You know that he had loved his job in New York, in his own fucked up way. It was a messed up, down right toxic, work environment, and it had hurt to see him come home every night, tired to the bone, both physically and emotionally drained, yet he kept doing it. His ineffable love for the culinary arts that just couldn’t be extinguished kept him going. It is just after you moved to Chicago a month ago that he told you that he would throw up every morning before work.

It crushed you to hear that Carmen was suffering silently, but you understood why he continued to push through. The restaurant industry was demanding and competitive, and Carmen was determined to prove himself. You had hoped that the move to Chicago would bring some relief, a fresh start away from the toxicity of his previous job. However, the weight of his responsibilities at The Beef seemed to have only deepened the strain on your relationship.

You love him, and you want to be there for him, no matter what. But the constant absence and distance have started to make you question where you stand in his life. But most of all you’re just sad that he is sad, or really it's more that you're sad that he is in a situation that should make him sad, it's like he doesn’t even really allow himself to be sad, and that really hurts to watch. 

You try to push away those negative thoughts, you try yo remind yourself that Carmen is just going through a difficult time, but that just makes the worried feeling in the pit of your stomach feel even heavier.

As the front door finally creaks open, your heart skips a beat. Carmen steps inside, his weary eyes meeting yours. The exhaustion etched on his face is painfully evident, and your worry intensifies, yet you're just so happy to see him. As he slides off his jacket his white t-shirt comes into view, it’s stained with sauces and his hands bear the marks of countless hours spent in the kitchen, but it’s the weariness in his eyes that tears at your heart.

“Hey,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse from lack of rest. “Why are you still up?

You muster a small smile, trying to hide your concern. “I couldn’t sleep,” you admit softly, stepping closer to him. “I was worried about you. You said you’d be home earlier.”

Carmen sighs heavily, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I know, I’m sorry, it was just... things got really busy tonight.”

You nod, biting your lip to hold back the words that threaten to spill out. You want to scream at him, not from a place of anger, but frustration, to make him understand that his health is more important than any sandwich on the menu. But you also know that he pours everything he got into the restaurant.  

“I’m just worried about you, Carmy,” you finally manage to say, your voice tinged with both frustration and concern. “You work yourself to the bone, and it’s taking a toll on you. I can’t bear to see you like this.”

He sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know,  but there is not much I can do about it, okay. I’m sorry for putting you through this. But I can’t just abandon the restaurant. If I don’t fix it Jimmy’s gonna sell it and turn it into a fucking Applebee’s.” 

Tears well up in your eyes as you take a step closer to him. “I get that, Carm. I do. But you need to take care of yourself too. It hurts seeing you like this.” 

Carmen looks at you, his tired eyes searching your face. There’s a mix of frustration and resignation in his gaze, as if he knows you’re right but doesn’t know how to change the situation. The weight of his responsibilities seems to visibly crush him, and it breaks your heart.

“I know, I know,” Carmen says, his voice tinged with defeat. “But it’s not that simple. The Beef is struggling, and I need to turn it around. I can’t just walk away.”

Your frustration builds, and you can’t help but argue back. “I understand that, Carmy, but you also can’t sacrifice your well-being for the sake of this restaurant. There has to be a way to find a balance, to take care of yourself too.”   

“I know I need to take care of myself, and I don’t want to keep putting you through this,” his voice taking on a more frustrating tone, he isn’t yelling, but there’s an edge to it. “But I just... I don’t know how to do that right now, okay”

The tone of his voice makes you pause for a moment, he has never talked to you like that before and you can’t help but slightly flinch. You know that he is just frustrated but it still makes you feel a deep pang of hurt. It’s not that you’re scared or anything, you know that he would never ever hurt you, you’re just sad that it has come to this. 

But seeing you flinch clearly affects Carmen, his frustrated expression softening, turning into an expression of guilt and regret instead.  

You swallow the lump in your throat and take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure before saying what you need to say. “I love you, Carmen, and I want you to be happy. But I can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself in the process.” you’re taking a deep breath before continuing, “you’re scaring me.” 

Carmen’s gaze meets yours, the expression in his eyes breaking your heart. “I never wanted to scare you. And I-I would never hurt you.” 

This makes your heart break even more, yes you had flinched at his tone of voice, but not because you in any way had thought he would physically hurt you, never. The thing you’re scared of is that he’ll end up hurting himself…  

You reach out to take Carmen’s hand, wanting to assure him that you understand his intentions, but also wanting to convey the depth of your concern.

“I’m not scared you’ll hurt me, Carm. I know you’d never do that. I’m scared you’ll hurt yourself.” Tears are now streaming down your cheeks, your voice trembling as you’re about to unveil your biggest fear in all of this. “I just don’t want you to end up like Micheal, okay… I was scared that the reason you didn’t come home was because you had blown your brains out on a bridge somewhere.”  

Carmen’s eyes widen at your words, a mixture of shock and pain flashing across his face.

He reaches out to gently wipe away your tears, his touch warm and comforting. “I’m not going to end up like Michael,” he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. “I promise you, I could never do that to you.”

You hold onto his hand tightly, desperately seeking reassurance. “But Carmy, you’re pushing yourself so hard. You’re not taking care of yourself, and it scares me. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t live without you.”

He pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you as if he never wants to let go. “You don’t have to, I promise you.” His voice cracks with emotion, and you can feel his tears dampening your shoulder.

You hold onto him just as tightly, your heart breaking for the pain he’s been carrying alone and you’re just so happy that he is finally letting himself cry.  

Carmen pulls away slightly to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of gratitude and determination. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m so grateful to have you by my side.”

You smile through your tears, relieved to see him opening up and acknowledging the need for change. “We’ll figure it out together. We’ll find a way to make things work.”

“Yeah, we will,” he nods, before continuing. “I… I actually started going to Al-Anon, I go three times a week.” 

You’re taken aback by Carmen’s revelation, but also immensely proud of him for taking this step. You gently squeeze his hand, your love for him growing with each passing moment. “That’s amazing, Carm,” you say softly. “For how long?”

“I started going two weeks ago, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything earlier,” he admits, a hint of shame in his voice. “I guess I just needed to take it in my own tempo.” 

You shake your head, wiping away your remaining tears. “It’s okay, Carm, I’m just so glad you’re looking out for yourself.” 

Carmen takes a deep breath, his gaze filled with renewed determination. “I really don’t deserve you, thank you for not giving up on me, even when I pushed you away. I love you so much, and I promise I’ll find a way to make this work.”

You lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling a sense of hope and unity. “I love you too, Carmy. And yeah, we’ll face this together, one step at a time.”

Thank you for reading! ♡ this is my first time writing for Carmy and I had such a blast writing for him, but I also was a little intimidated by this piece, so please let me know what you thought ♡

[gay-dorito-dust]

The Lin Kuei trio + Raiden reacting to their usually nice, compassionate, and generally nurturing s/o suddenly looks at an enemy and goes "You have five f**king seconds before I rip open your stomach and turn your innards into a noose." And proceeds to do just that to frightening effect?

First time writing for Raiden, so hell probably be ooc and some shitty character writing to be made aware of 😂 🦦

Tomas Vrbada

Honestly didn’t see that coming.

He guessed that what he got for judging a book by it’s cover and Tomas learnt that rather fast upon seeing you destroy your opponent in frightening quick succession. So upon seeing your sweet tender smile afterwards whilst covered in blood was bone chilling to Tomas, knowing that someone so sweet, so kind, so caring and nurturing like you had the ability to switch up to a more vicious and violent version persona.

Tomas would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find you covered in someone else’s blood extremely attractive. So you best mark him down as scared and horny because holy shit.

Like Raiden, he felt the need to protect you and keep you within range of him, but that’s mainly because he’s absolutely terrified of losing you like he lost his family. So he knew that he could come across as overbearing at time when it came to keeping you safe, but you knew that it all came from a good place, and that Tomas was trying so hard to avoid a repetition of in his past to happen to you; So upon learning that you didn’t in fact need his help in keeping you safe, he allows himself to relax a little and ease off of you in fear of being the next person you pummel.

To which he knew wouldn’t be the case but that pent up anger you displayed must’ve come from somewhere.

Tomas came to accept that the hands that he came to love and admire whilst melting within their warm, tender and nurturing hold as they cupped his face, also possessed the ability to mane and destroy just as easily as they could heal and mend his broken heart and patch up his open wounds from intensive missions.

Kuai Liang

Surprised but honestly wonders where it was that you had learnt to defend yourself and in that brutal fashion.

So while everyone else was taken aback when you inevitably unleash hellfire upon your opponents to frightening effect. Kuai Liang on the other hand was only feeling sorry for the poor bastard on the receiving end of your vicious blows, they looked like they fucking hurt that Kuai Liang was for certain on.

Upon first meeting you, Kuai Liang genuinely believed that you either had no prior experience in combat, or just held a distain towards all things violent and purposefully adhere it all together; Not that he was claiming that was a bad thing. It was just a rarity to come across someone like you. To the point where Kuai Liang would often worried that someday someone would sniff this out, before then proceeding to taking advantage and manipulate you into shady business under the pretences of doing good.

He didn’t want to tarnish your kind, caring and loving nature by bringing this up in fear that it would only make you think negatively, and or ashamed of yourself, which would never ever be his primary intention. Kuai Liang was too aware of the horrible people that blended within the shadows and lurked in dark alleyways, so therefore he didn’t want you getting involved in something that would alter you into a person that you would forever hate ever becoming.

Knowing now that you could fully protect yourself if the instance ever did arrive, Kuai Liang would only become more adamant in helping you incorporate moves of self defence into your arsenal, so you’ll always be ready for near enough anything if he wasn’t able to be with you.

Bi-Han

He is proud as all hell.

While your vulgar threat made his brows raise in slight surprise but mainly curiosity, having wondered where this side chaotic and violent of you had came from, but ultimately took a sickening form of satisfaction of seeing you back up your words by utterly decimating your enemy with doing what you forewarned was about to happen; He might as well looked like an utter mad man with how much attention he was giving, good lord.

He’s giving your fighting style an close and in-depth examination, taking notes on everything that you did good and everything that you could use some improvement upon with his help as though he was locked within a high intensity game of chess! Someone was getting brutally pulverised and yet Bi-Han could only watch on with genuine intrigue on articulating methods in to making you even more deadly in combat.

He’s seen a golden opportunity and he would be stupid to let it go now.

Raiden

Scared and horny 2.0

Poor baby is taken aback by your vicious side.

However he would still hold your hand as though they were made of porcelain as he takes a wet cloth and cleans away the blood and viscera from your knuckles to take care of your bruises that lied beneath from brutally beating down your enemy. You’re still the kind, caring and nurturing person he knows and loves, you just got some added qualities that’s all!

Even though your caring and nurturing nature often made you look weak and in constant need of defending in the eyes of others, Raiden didn’t see it the way that they did. While yes he felt this obligation to keep you out of harms way and keep you close, that’s just how Raiden is as a person to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves. And that was in no way shape or form meant to be taken as him disregarding your ability to protect yourself.

That wasn’t his intention and if you did believe that were the case. Then he would have no qualms in reminding you of how much he trusts you to protect yourself, even going so far as to sight this as a major example of that. Your fighting style may be consistent of the usage of deadly and lethal force but Raiden knew that you wouldn’t willingly use it against just anybody, only using it as a method of self defence first and foremost, unless further provoked into engaging in a full altercation.

Much like Tomas, Raiden probably also thought that you being covered in someone else’s blood was attractive in it’s own regard.

[brainlessrot]

Can I request a head-canon about the housewardens with an reader that bites people out of love?

I do that a love (it's automatic by this point) and the reactions are so funny loll

(also if this goes against the character count you can remove whoever you want! I just got kinda confused if I'm allowed to ask about the housewardens or just 5 characters)

HIII!! i just re-read the character limit on my request rules and i realized how confusing it may be, so i changed it, and yes!! i do "character bundles" (groups that kinda go together, like first years, housewardens... ) up to 7!! so ill do all of them, thank you for requesting <3!!!!

floyd version!!

vicehousewardens + silver (tba!)

Contents ;; Biting as an act of love, sfw but kind of suggestive, specially on leonas (sorry grandpa's senile) , gn!reader, your teeth leave marks, not beta read!

Characters ;; Housewardens, Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus

Riddle ;;

Yelps, screams, howls

WHY THE HELL ARE YOU DOING THAT

may collar you out of instinct sorry :'(

overall he himself is not really happy with it but will let it pass if you explain that you do it out of love

(he will blush and after that he stops complaining and letting it happen)

once he is kinda used to it hell just groan and softly push the palm of his hand against your head to make you let go

if your teeth leave marks he WILL keep you collared and not allow you to come near him until the mark dissappears

will wipe off the saliva off bc he thinks its kinda unsanitary

If you bite him sneakily (like how a cat may nuzzle your hand before trying to maim you) he will feel lowkey betrayed, but generally wont tell you off unless it actually hurt him

You held his hand, pulling it up to press it up against your cheek, looking into his eyes as your lips left a quick kiss on his palm, his own face flushing a rich red. Your lips pulled at the corners in a smile he knew too well, but he wasn't quick enough to retract his arm from your hold before your teeth sunk into his hand. It was a soft bite, not too hard. He sighed, pulling his hand away and looking at you with a dissapointed-- but flustered-- face.

continues under cut.

Leona ;;

WILL bite back

it is either a threat, a promise, or a show of love, only he knows, and seven, he will not tell you

if you nibble gently on him he will ask you if that's all youve got and bite down on your shoulder so hard you're sure he tried to eat you alive (he didn't even put enough pressure to leave a bruise, but it sure did feel like it)

sorry but you have no chance of out-biting him, the moment you bit him for the first time you opened a door that could never be closed

whenever you are in bitting distance you HAVE to keep an eye out for his maw and any suspicious movement bc he WILL lounge and bite you whenever he can

the consequences of your own choices

if you leave marks he... he will be flaunting them, cheeky bastard, and be prepared, for what comes, goes, and you may find yourself some sharp canines indented on your skin

His arm was around your shoulder, his forearm near to your face. He wasn't paying attention to anything in particular, dozing off but still awake, eyes threatening to close the sooner he gets close to falling asleep. You lean into his arm, thinking for a few second before deciding that, since he was not aware of his surroundings, this was your time to bite him without him biting back. And so you did, gently biting on the exposed skin of his arm. You heard a chuckle, warm breath tickling your cheek as sharp teeth bit into it. "Did you think I would not reciprocate, herbivore?"

Azul ;;

hes both hard and soft when you bite into him??? like octopuses dont have bones and are squishy but that also means he is pure muscle.... so when you bite him he is soft but then he involuntarily flexes and now it feels like youre biting brick

he is generally very easy to fluster because hes not very used to affection (not coming from his mother or step-father)

depending on where you bite he will yelp or giggle bc he is quite ticklish

doesn't hate it but doesn't necessarily love it either, just understands that that is how you show your love for him (and appreciates it) but would rather you don't do it in public or he WILL die.

if your teeth leave marks hes going to die, crawling back into his tiny octopot and not leaving until the teeth-shaped bruise dissappears

You leaned against his body, eyes roaming around his desk as he filed some documents. Not that you were paying attention to what he was writting, instead resting your chin on his shoulder and looking at him from the corner of your eye. You opened your mouth slightly, moving slowly to not alert him of your plans. With your mouth closing on his shoulder, he yelped, his pen rolling out of his hand and clanking against the floor. He looked frantically at you, eyes wide and face flushed.

Kalim ;;

giggly as hell ‼️

if you clamp down on him a little harder than your regular nibbling he will literally bust out laughing he is EXTREMELY ticklish

may also nibble gently you back, but is hesitant to bite too hard, he doesn't want to hurt you :((

please PLEASE dont leave marks on him jamil will literally have a panic attack, dont do it for his own sanity

his favorite place to bite you back is your cheek, he loves grabbing it with his teeth and pulling softly, the way you laugh when he does so leaves butterflies on his stomach

Your hands held his as he excitedly spoke, telling you all about what he did for the day. It was a nice, domestic activitie. He would tell you about how his day went and you'd listen, every once in a while quipping in with a word or two, or a funny sentence in response. As he finalized his story, you raised his hands, leaving a kiss against his knuckles, before gently bitting the side of his hand, he giggled, gently pulling your own and doing the same as you did.

Vil ;;

sorry but he does NOT appreciate it all

he might.... buy you a chewtoy

do NOT dare put your "slobby maw" (his words not mine) near him, his clothes or any of his things

if he ever gives you permission to bite him and you accidentally leave teeth marks on him he is filing a restraining order against you (/hj)

REFUSES to leave his room until the mark disappears, that is an unbefitting appearance for Vil Schoenheit

however if you mainly just nibble softly he may (AND ONLY MAY) let you chew on his arm (where it will definetly be hidden under his long sleeves) but please do not bite him without asking because he will have a breakdown

he doesn't care about your reasoning behind biting him, he goes "i refuse☝️"

He saw you fussing around, clenching your jaw and pressing your lips together. Feeling the way he viewed you from the corners of his eyes, you tried to stay still as to not be make it obvious that you were trying to contain your urges of sinking your teeth into the soft and tender flesh of his, since you knew he wasn't rather fond of it. His own lips were pursed as he turned to face you, quickly pushing his arm out and pulling the long sleeves of his clothes back, presenting his arm to you.

"Do not bite hard."

Idia

"WHAT THE FU-" he is falling on his ass crawling on the floor and wriggling like a worm

at least give him a warning before you try to kill him mate

his first instinct is to bite back but he has to restrain himself because he knows how sharp his teeth are (and he may know from personal experience that using those to bite you dont fare well, ortho had to clean up your arm while idia was sobbing and begging for forgiveness last time he did)

he doesn't really mind after you tell him your reasoning but PLEAAASEEE give him a heads up before you even come close to him

his skin is super thin and sensible so he bruises easily please do be careful bc any mark will make him faint (and will give him another excuse to not go outside)

You asked him what he was playing, putting your arms around his shoulders as you leaned, looking at the small screen of his hand held console, some unknown game playing on it. The only thing that came out of his mouth was a mumble, his eyes trained on the device intently. You saw the way his mouth opened and closed a couple of times, no sound coming out, before he leaned against your arm, his sharp teeth scraping against your arm. A giggle escaped your mouth as you leaned forward, biting gently on his shoulder as a response.

Malleus

"child of man why are you trying to eat me"

please give him a break he doesn't understand what you are doing or why you are doing it

if you explain to him that some humans do that as an act of love he has the smuggest look on his face as he tries to cover his mouth so that you dont see his lil smile

goes "i see..." with the silliest grin EVER

lets you bite him whenever you want and ENCOURAGES you to do so

is hesitant to bite you back (even if you ask him) bc he thinks human skin is too brittle for his fae teeth

bites you so gently you think he just kissed your arm

if you leave marks be prepared to be hunted down by sebek

(and interrogated by lilia)

idk why but now i kinda wanna chew on his horns...

The both of you sat outside, the night breeze making you huddle closer to his body, warmth emanating from him. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before extending his arm and pointing towards a small light in the sky, a star. His lips moved as he spoke, telling you it's name and to which constellation it belonged to. Your cheek brushed against his arm, your impulse winning against your better judgement as your head turned to the side, your teeth biting into him. He chuckled, looking you with fondness in his eyes, already accostumed to your weird human activities.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

hey! Love your writing! Could you do a fic where Tom finds reader beaten and bruised and he raises hell trying to figure out who did it? Also can the reader be a hufflepuff? Have an amazing day!!!!

I didn't specify the house, but I hope this works!

Protector

Tom Riddle x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of attack, broken bones, blood

You were in one of the bathrooms at the sink, trying to wash away all the blood on your skin and clean the cuts. It was a typically abandoned bathroom, no one really used it. So you were surprised when the door opened and none other than Tom Riddle came in.

You and Tom had a weird relationship, but he was weird in general. You were nice and friendly with him, and he gave you short responses in return. He didn't exactly seem to hate you, he wasn't rude and he didn't insult you. He just didn't really seem to care about you.

But now that he saw you all bloodied and bruised, you saw anger in his eyes. He was livid. “Who did it?” Was all he asked.

“It's fine, Tom. Don't worry about it.” You said, turning back to the sink to finish cleaning up.

“You're hurt, (Y/N). It's not fine. Who did it?” Tom walked over to you.

“No one.” You just wanted him to drop it. It'd only get worse if he got involved.

“They hurt you, why are you protecting them?” His tone was harsher than normal.

“I don't want you involved.” You said, still not meeting his eyes.

“So instead, you protect the people who hurt you. You're being stupid.” It was the first time he actually insulted you in some way.

“Leave it alone, Tom.” You said before turning off the sink and leaving the bathroom.

The next day, you didn't see any of your attackers in classes. There were a few people close to your attackers that were injured, a broken arm, broken nose, cuts, bruises. They wouldn't say a word about what happened. 

You wanted to question Tom since he was the only one you knew of that knew what happened to you. But he was missing from classes too. No one had seen him and none of the injured students would talk to you.

You waited outside of the Slytherin common room, hoping to catch him coming in or out. It took a long time actually. He didn’t show up until just minutes before everyone was supposed to be in their common rooms. He came down the hallway, looking right past you.

“Where have you been?” You asked, trying to get his attention.

“Urgent matter to attend to.” He said as he was walking closer.

“You mean those students who attacked me?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“They’re dealt with.” He said as he stopped in front of you.

“I told you to leave it alone!”

“So you can keep getting hurt?” 

You both stared at each other for a moment.

“Why do you care? You never care.”

“It’s not about you. I think it’s pathetic to attack someone like that. So I gave those cowards a lesson.” He crossed his arms as well.

“You’ve never done that for anyone before.” You shook your head. “Why? Why me?”

“I don’t know.” He said harshly. “I don’t get it. I saw you hurt and…I couldn’t bear it. I got angry and wanted nothing more than to hurt those people who dared to touch you.”

You were shocked, staring at him in disbelief.

“I don’t understand why I did it. I just wanted to.” His voice was softer now. “I felt…like I had to protect you.”

“Tom…” You spoke softly.

“I thought I hated you. I couldn’t get you out of my head. You’re annoying and talkative and bubbly and I should hate that. I should hate that I can’t stop thinking of you and how you make me feel. Your voice, your laugh, your perfume, your smile. I want to hate it all. But I don’t. I can’t.” He said, staring in your eyes.

“What are you saying, Tom?” You asked after a moment to let his words sink in.

“I’m saying that I don’t hate you. Quite the opposite.” He said, his eyes trailing down.

“You like me?” You asked, a small smile growing on your face.

“I’m not saying that.” He scoffed, looking back up at you.

“But that’s what you mean.” You tease.

“I’ll never say those words.” He shook his head.

“It’s alright. I know what you were trying to say.” You said before turning to walk down the hallway back to your dorm.

“I didn’t-” He yelled after you before groaning, heading into the Slytherin common room, knowing there’s no point in arguing with you.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[hellwantfuckme]

her warmth

summary: Azriel returns injured from a mission, he could have visited Madja, who would make quick work of healing his wounds, he prefers to stay with her, even if it will hurt a little more, as long as the solitary wound lodged in his chest also heals.

warnings: injuries, blood

author's note: Azriel has my heart.

Eclipse's face twisted into a minuscule expression of disgust as she looked at the brutal wound, fifteen centimeters long on Azriel's muscular back, just below his shoulder, a generous space between the gash and his shoulder blades where his wings began. The expression on her face increased, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown.

"Do you still insist on not going to a healer?" Eclipse asked, her voice weak as she saw the blood. A small knot lodged in her throat.

She had had wounds like that on her body a thousand times, and had treated them on her own, miraculously, only one or two had become infected. Eclipse was thankful that Azriel was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking forward, unable to see the slight disgust on her face. She was on her knees just behind him, keeping a reckless distance from his wings. The left wing comfortably stretched across the length of her bed, the other, somewhat more uncomfortable, reaching the headboard. But both were down, relaxed, perhaps. Or maybe he was just so tired that keeping them firm, as he normally did, was heavy. Eclipse had seen him sprawled out on a sofa, totally drunk, and still his wings didn't touch the ground. She had seen him sit on his bed other times, with his wings well tucked against his back.

Eclipse didn't know how to process that information. What it meant. She took a deep breath, cleared her mind. That was something for another time, to think about his body language and analyze it until reaching a thousand conclusions, she would do it later, when the Illyrian was not sitting on her bed. When there were only remnants of his scent left.

"Is it really bad?" Azriel asked, his hoarse voice sending a shiver through her spine and making her heart race. He remained downcast, bone-tired.

She hated seeing him like this, her frown only deepened. She didn't want to acknowledge that the feeling that ran through her veins was raw concern. Eclipse looked at the wound again.

"W-well, yes, it looks pretty bad. When did you get it? A day ago, two?" Eclipse inquired, although by the way the wound looked, it was clear to her that it had been more than 24 hours. She spoke without letting Azriel answer. "From Windhaven to here is two hours, flown two hours and it still hasn't healed on its own, it will need stitches. It looks deep," Eclipse said, voicing what had been going through her mind since Azriel had taken off the leathers covering the upper part of his body and sat on the bed.

The blue-gray light from the faelights gave her perfect illumination, the wing membranes appearing more of a light pink than the usual red.

Azriel stiffened, nerves attacking her, and she tried to keep them buried, push them down. She couldn't help but overanalyze every gesture, every change, to a conclusion that had as many opportunities to be correct as to be miles away from reality.

"Or so I think, I have no idea how Illyrians heal," Eclipse muttered doubtfully. She was no healer, just a twenty-two-year-old girl who had had to heal this kind of wounds more than once. "I don't even know how Faeries... do it. But from the times that..."

"No," Azriel interrupted. "It's... you're right. If it hasn't healed yet, it won't heal on its own."

"You said you've sewn wounds on yourself more than once, right?"

A conversation they had had months ago, Eclipse blinked, the only sign of surprise. She hadn't really thought he would remember it, it had been something she had only mentioned once, less than a minute.

"I could help you with the wound, it's not too late tho, we can still call Madja and..." Her doubts about herself grew denser.

"Can you do it?" Azriel interrupted again, his shoulders rigid.

Eclipse felt the tortured way the words came out of his lips, tense as well.

Eclipse sighed, not thinking too much about the fact that he was indirectly asking her to take care of his wounds, had a kind of meaning. The kind of meaning that Eclipse would spend hours thinking about, hours tossing and turning in her bed repeating every tiny interaction over and over again.

Her hand rested on Azriel's other shoulder, a mere sign of seeking balance as she got out of her bed and headed to the bathroom attached to her room. She didn't stop to think about the much-exposed skin she was showing with that barely thigh-length blue silk nightgown, or the discrete way his eyes roamed the length of her legs, to her exposed collarbones.

She entered and left the bathroom without taking too long, gathering everything she needed.

The House had provided her with a bowl of hot water and a clean cloth, as well as a sterilized needle and thread. And also, herbs that Eclipse knew very well. Yarrow leaves that would prevent bacteria in the wound, marigold flowers that would help with inflammation, and lavender, for the pain. She had prepared this mixture a thousand times, the smell of everything reminding her of all the times she had gotten into street fights, or bar fights, and especially, the scar along her forearm itched with the memory.

She banished the mental image of all the blood and panic she had felt back then. Now she knew what to do, although the fact that she would be treating someone who wasn't herself still sparked a slight panic in her chest. Eclipse filled her lungs with air for six seconds, held it for four, and released it for another six seconds.

«Calm down.»

She carefully left everything on her nightstand, with Azriel's gaze fixed on her, his usually stoic expression interrupted by a slight frown and a very slight pink shade on his cheeks. Eclipse must have imagined it.

She dipped the cloth tip in the hot water, then submerged the fabric a little more until half of it was wet and withdrew it, wringing it to remove the excess water.

Their eyes met for just a second while Eclipse stood up, there was a glimmer in his eyes that she could not decipher. It was incredible how, even without trying to hide his emotions, it was difficult to read him.

Eclipse turned the bed around, got on it, positioning herself just behind him. Her warm, somewhat wet hand from the cloth, touched his shoulder again to recompose properly. Eclipse felt him bristle. She didn't know if it was because of the contact or because she was too close to his wings, either way she backed off a little. Still close enough to easily reach his wound but maintaining a distance between her and his wings.

She cleared her throat.

"It might hurt a little," she said.

"I've dealt with worse," Azriel told her, his voice almost guttural and tense. Eclipse stopped for a second.

Was it the pain? Or perhaps, had he changed his mind about this and wanted to leave? Maybe he had seen her nerves. Maybe the pain clouded his judgment and he hadn't thought it through.

Eclipse heard a sigh escape his nose, and she looked at the wound again, unsure of how to proceed. The idea of reminding him that he could leave if he wasn't comfortable, that they could still call Madja, was a quick order to her vocal cords, and when she was about to speak, Azriel beat her to it.

"How did you learn to heal wounds like this?" he inquired. His voice notably less tense.

Eclipse took it as an invitation and gently placed the cloth over the beginning of his smooth, firm skin break.

"I used to get into fights," Eclipse murmured as the cloth gently crossed the wound, cleaning impurities.

The smell of blood reached her, the blood and the cedar and exhaustion. Eclipse still wasn't used to the fact that emotions gave off a smell, even though she had been Fae for three years, with countless years ahead of her.

"The friends I had were all from extremely questionable security neighborhoods. They solved everything with violence, the slightest offense, the smallest debt…"

Eclipse sighed.

"I've broken my thumb twice punching wrong, and I have thousands of small scars from learning to use a dagger properly. And I've had wounds like this more times than I care to remember," she explained.

She finished cleaning the wound without giving any further explanations, and Azriel didn't speak or make any sounds of pain, he just clenched his jaw so hard she thought a tooth would break. Eclipse remembered how she had screamed, they had made her bite a belt, the first time she had gotten a wound like this and they had simply cleaned it. Although there was also the fact that she had been infinitely gentler cleaning Azriel's wound than her friends had been cleaning hers.

Eclipse got out of bed, leaving the cloth on the nightstand.

The house conjured up another wooden bowl, right next to the herbs. She put each of the herbs in the bowl, poured some hot water over them, and crushed them as best as she could. It took her longer than she would have liked, Azriel's gaze, once again, fixed on her.

"You've broken your thumb twice?" Azriel asked, raising an eyebrow. She saw curiosity and a bit of fun on his face and snorted.

"At least you know how to throw a punch," she joked, halfheartedly.

"If I haven't, are you going to push me into the ring with Cassian and have him yell orders at me?" Eclipse joked.

"Cassian would be too soft for someone who has broken their thumb twice giving a punch, and done it wrong."

"I was fifteen!" Eclipse excused herself, her voice rising only slightly. The corners of his lips curved into a tiny smile. "But I do know how to throw a punch."

"I'd like to see that," Eclipse rolled her eyes; his smile grew slightly broader.

When the ointment was ready, Eclipse positioned herself behind him again. Every time Eclipse saw the wound it seemed to get larger, bloodier.

She applied the ointment carefully on the wound, Azriel let out a small groan of pain, almost imperceptible. Eclipse grimaced and swallowed.

"Sorry," she murmured. When she finished, she looked at the needle. "Could you pass me the needle?"

Azriel handed it over without objection.

"I imagine I don't need to tell you it's going to hurt," she murmured again.

Azriel closed his eyes when the needle pierced his skin, his fists tightened the sheets beneath him.

Eclipse sewed the wound with expert hands, a process that took long minutes until it was closed. Azriel let out a sigh, and she, as gently as she could, bandaged the wound.

"Go see Madja tomorrow morning, Azriel," she practically ordered. He just nodded. Eclipse got off the bed, then, standing in front of him. He straightened up, even when a grimace of pain settled on his face at doing so, just to be able to look at her better. For the first time, he had to lift his chin to look her in the eyes.

Eclipse noticed a few drops of blood staining his face, and her muscles moved without thinking. Azriel spread his knees wide enough to make room for Eclipse between them, while her hand cradled his face, her thumb tracing the dried drop of blood on his cheek.

Azriel inevitably closed his eyes, tilting his face to the incredibly soft touch of her hand.

Her chest filled with warmth.

"You have to rest, Az," she murmured, not breaking the chocolate gaze of the man who seemed so... vulnerable. "My bed is yours if you want it."

He opened his eyes, as if wanting to confirm that she had just said that. That he wasn't imagining it. He blinked.

"Where will you sleep?" he asked, barely more than a whisper.

Eclipse nodded towards the sofa in front of the windows, it was actually large enough for her to sleep well, although she knew she wouldn't. In reality, she didn't know why she had offered it. But she didn't have time to regret it.

"No, I..."

"If you want to stay, you will stay in bed," Eclipse said, her voice firm. Azriel blinked again, surprise disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

Azriel knew it would be tremendously selfish to let the kind woman who had healed him, and who was looking after him right now, sleep on a sofa. But he couldn't leave her warmth, her scent around him. He couldn't bear to return to his room, alone. Just as he had been for five hundred years, because he had discovered that she filled a heavy void in his chest. That there wasn't a corner that felt uncomfortable with her, he couldn't find a flaw in her. Not one.

So he simply nodded. And let himself be taken care of.

[closetsof-backlogged-dreams]

okay so I’ve seen and loved a bunch of these posts already but everything u say is immediately correct and amazing and sending u asks is the best

opinions on why zukka works and makes sense as a ship and if you think it could work in canon (outside of fanon)?

I CANT BELIEVE YOU JUST MADE MY ENTIRE LIFE COMPLETE AND FULL BY ASKING ME THIS QUESTIONNNN (strap in folks hold on to your hats keep a good hold on your bladders bc this is 10+ years worth of BUSINESS)

Why "Zukka" works and makes sense as a ship

something i've discussed THROUGHLY with my notes app and a school slides presentation is that Zuko and Sokka are both direct parallels AND contrasts to one another, at the same time. i'll list them out here:

Their fathers' roles in their lives

Both Hakoda and Ozai were the leaders of their respective nations, with Sokka and Zuko as the heirs. Then, they both become absent in their sons' lives and leave them to fend for themselves.

This is a parallel, but this is also where they contrast. Sokka's father left to go fight in the war, a noble and honest pursuit, and left Sokka to protect his sister and the village.

Ozai, on the other hand, cast Zuko out of the nation and forced him to protect and defend himself, while effectively turning all their people and his own sister against him.

Their sisters' roles in their lives

Despite both of them being the oldest sibling and brother, they both have severe inferiority complexes due to their younger, powerful bending sisters.

With Katara, she was the only waterbender in the entire tribe, a marvel. She could learn to protect the tribe in a way that Sokka had been trying all his life, and she eventually does. Despite all this, Katara is still a grounding and valued person in his life, and he would be completely lost without her (something he openly admits to in canon!!)

With Azula, she was a prodigy firebender, while also being a special kind of keen and cunning. She was adored by their father and grandfather and Zuko could never quite measure up. Because of this, Azula is the main villain in Zuko's childhood. She does everything she can to break him down, and that continues when she returns as a character in his life in season two. All throughout the show, instead of being a source of comfort and familial love, she is his main obstacle he must overcome.

The loss of their mothers

Both Sokka and Zuko lost their mothers at very young ages to the Fire Nation, but they had vastly different impacts on their families (and further developed their sisters' roles in their lives!!)

When Sokka's mother died, she was killed by a Fire Nation general. Katara quickly took over the motherly role in his life, cementing her place as a grounding and comforting force. Her death also did not break their family. It deeply hurt all of them, but Katara, Sokka, and Hakoda still loved one another just as much as before.

When Zuko's mother died (obviously not really, but this is what he believes for many years), she was "killed" in order for his father to ascend to the throne and become Fire Lord. This left Zuko without anyone to protect him from Azula's tormenting and cemented her place as a destructive, villainous person in his life. Ursa's death also did destroy their family. Whatever way she had managed to keep them all together was eradicated, and Zuko was left with a sister and father that resented him and a sister fighting for his place in the line of succession.

Their obessesions

Both Sokka and Zuko had two bone-deep obsessions that were very defining parts of their characters in the first season, that slowly wavered and faded away as the story progressed and they developed as people. They were both given these obsessions by their fathers immediately before they became absent in their lives (whether leaving themself or sending their son away) and proceeded to dedicate their entire life to these goals in the name of honor.

With Sokka, his father asked him to protect his sister and his village. Sokka then dedicates all his time and energy to becoming a brave soldier and training the children of the village in order to protect his people. This is seen further in season one even after they leave, when he is overly protective of Katara and constantly worried for her safety (something this fandom doesn't talk about enough!!)

With Zuko, his father sent him on a wild goose-chase to find the hundred-years-lost Avatar, and when he actually does, all he can do is chase after Aang so he can go back home. As we see in season three, letting go of capturing the Avatar was essentially letting go of his former self.

Unlearning their flawed cultures (the big one!!!!)

Both of their cultures had many flaws that became ingrained in their belief systems and characters; their whole development is dedicated to unlearning these flawed teachings and reorienting their perception of the world.

It is very obvious throughout the shows that the Water Tribe had strict gender roles that were both implicitly and explicitly taught from birth. The men go off to fight in the war, the women take care of the children, Sokka has to protect his "defenseless" little sister, etc. Suki helped start him on the journey of unlearning his deeply-rooted misogyny, and by the end of the series he's really drinking the Respect Women Juice™️ (unlearning the flaws of his culture also brought him much closer to his sister and strengthened their bond and respect for one another)

The Fire Nation is a lot more complicated with a lot more cultural nuances and implicit and explicit teachings, but we'll focus on one central cultural theme: the constant prioritization of ambition over absolutely everything else, including (if not especially) love. (I actually talk about this extensively in another analysis post about Azula, if you want to check that out<3) We see Zuko battle with this teaching all throughout the series, and it is the main conflict he faces, at its heart.

We watch him commit his entire life to capturing the Avatar in season one. We watch him betray his uncle in season two. We watch him, time and time again, put his own health and safety on the line trying to capture Aang, especially in season one. Constantly, over and over again, he puts his ambition first because that was what he was taught.

And though this is a trait him and Azula share, it is also what pits them against each other. Azula's entire character is built on putting ambition first, and that leads her to chasing the throne that is Zuko's birthright. Zuko just wants to go home, but that would reestablish him as the heir to the throne. Time and time again, we watch them fight and betray each other, constantly battling for this crown for a broken nation. In the end, it is Azula's undoing, but that's another post.

All in all, unlearning the flaws of their culture is central to their development as characters and a place where they parallel... but it is also a place where they directly (and perfectly) contrast.

Despite the cruelty of the Fire Nation, they are the only military that includes women. They seem to not really struggle with the same gender roles the rest of the world does. They may be colonizers, but they're not misogynists. Zuko never looked down on his sister because she was a woman, nor did her father. It was always her propensity for cruelty that undid her. (They even send a team of highly skilled women to capture the Avatar!!)

This is a direct contrast to the teachings of the Water Tribe, which are entrenched in misogyny and gender roles. The men go off to war, the women stay behind. The men are strong, the women are weak. Can you imagine how much Zuko could have assisted Sokka in his development here? (blah blah directly paralleling Suki's role in Sokka's life blah blah blah)

In the Water Tribe, love and family comes before everything. We see that time and time again. Sokka's main priority, every time, is his sister and his tribe. They stick together. They love one another. They are united, with one person leading them as a group but not standing over them like a tyrant. "Ambition" seems like a mostly unheard of concept in their nation. The only ambition we ever really see from Sokka is when he's trying to protect his tribe (season one finale)!!

Can you imagine how much Sokka could have helped Zuko unlearn his constant prioritization of ambition?? Like, come on. All the things Zuko was left to stew with and angst over all on his own Sokka could have gently taken into his own hands and shown him the way. Like, it actually makes me go feral just thinking about it. Sokka could have helped Zuko so much!! (pushing the Ba Sing Se Zukka AU rn)

Consensus

Okay, let's recap. It looks like Zuko and Sokka are both direct parallels and contrasts, paralleling in the ways that allow them to understand each other but contrasting in the ways that help them heal one another. Like, it's actually insane. I really don't know if it was intentional or not but it's really just so perfect. They slot together perfectly as characters. I hope this all made sense😭😭

Could "Zukka" work in canon?

Now, this is tricky. Believe it or not I'm actually really glad they didn't make Zukka canon. ATLA had a huge problem with writing good romance, and in the canon we saw in the show, neither Sokka or Zuko were in a place to get together.

I've enjoyed my fair share of Zukka AUs where they get together before the end of the war, but you and I both know that would have been a hot mess. (Both of them just weren't ready, they were both in relationships, and sorry but they were kinda busy—Katara was right about the whole "there are other things to worry about.") If they were ever to get together in canon, it would have to be years after the war ended.

Let's address a few things that needed to happen before they could ever have gotten together:

Finally admitting that Maiko was just an extreme example of comphet

Zuko did not give a single shit about that girl. Like. He didn't even personally go get her out of prison WHEN SHE WAS LITERALLY ARRESTED FOR PROTECTING HIM😭😭 And then they try to play off their story as some big epic romance?? uhhhh no

(really, Mai was in long-time unrequited love with Ty Lee that was finally requited after Boiling Rock but idk if society is ready for that yet)

Not to mention, Azula literally forced both of them into that relationship, but if I get started with that I'll never stop so. Moving on.

Figuring out Sokka and Suki

Okay, so while there is a good chance that Sokka and Suki could have made it work in canon, there is also a good chance they would have broken up. They both had very different priorities: while they both did care about overall world peace, it was obvious from Suki's first introduction that her Kyoshi Warriors were her top priority every time, and Sokka's was his tribe, his found family (Aang, Katara, Toph, Zuko, yk yk), and world peace at large. You're telling me those don't conflict? Especially because they really seem like a Piper/Jason situation, where they found comfort and love in each other during wartime but wouldn't have known how to keep up the relationship without the constant threat of death.

Overall, in order for Zukka to work, Sokka and Suki would have had to break up, which would not have been difficult to arrange.

Sokka needed to go home and begin rebuilding the Water Tribe

No matter how much I adore fics where Sokka stays behind in the Fire Nation and helps Zuko rebuild, it just wouldn't work. Sokka's obvious priority had always been his tribe. The second the war was over (ignoring the comics bc that's a can of complicated worms i don't want to get into), he would've gone back with Katara to work on rebuilding their destroyed tribe. Only once the Southern Tribe could stand steadily on its own two legs could he have even considered leaving.

Anyways, that's really it. In order for Zukka to work, three plot points would have to be resolved: Maiko, Sukka, and the reparation of the Southern Water Tribe. Extremely doable, imo.

Personality-wise and just as characters, would it have worked?

I really think it would have! Like I said before, Sokka and Zuko are two characters that perfectly parallel and contrast at all the exactly right points to make them slot together flawlessly as a pair. (Whether that's romantic or not—doesn't matter.) Really, I genuinely think they are a real missed opportunity. I have genuinely never seen two characters that seem so different that actually work that well together, or even just characters that work that well together at all.

Like, I really mean it, they are perfect matches. It's genuinely scary. Like it or not, no one will ever be able to replicate the perfection of what Zukka could have been.

Anyone that says that it's "random" or "doesn't work" obviously hasn't been watching the same show or simply just hasn't been paying attention. People might ship it just because it's opposites attract or red and blue or even just the most accessible MLM ship in the fandom, but they really are perfect for each other.

alright, I think that's it! sorry for this monster of a post😭😭 genuinely did NOT expect that to happen. PLS SEND ME ANY ASKS YOU CAN THINK OF ABOUT THESE TWO!! i have spent a concerning amount of time thinking about them and these show has analysis potential for days, so. (and who knows, maybe i'll finally post the like three unfinished fics i have for them💀💀 god knows i should)

thanks for the ask, and have a great day <3

[starrclown]

I've see ALOT of LMK angst and I have nothing better to do (cause it's late at night) and I'm not working on my LMK apocalypse au right now sooo-

LMK ANGST HEADCANNONS

Triggerwarning for Violence, Blood, Suicidal thoughts, and other general upsetting topics.

(Feel free to leave yours below. Let's make these characters sad together!)

:D

Pigsy gets upset when people joke about Wukong being Mk's dad. It's insulting to him, the one that raises Mk since he was so little.

Wukong is someone that craves physically touch but also can't stand it. It stems from all the violence he's been apart of + the crown messed him up alot. He was SUPER uncomfortable with Mk touching him in the beginning. It has to be on his terms if you wanna touch him.

Macaque doesn't have a heart beat anymore.

Because of Macaque never coming back when Wukong needed him, Wukong had no trust that Macaque will come back if they have a argument. He assumes that Macaque is just gone and gets upset about it. Eventually Macaque comes back and realizes Wukong's upset but he doesn't bring it up cause he doesn't know how.

Redson doesn't really understand why his father doesn't seem to like him. He assumed that his dad would be overjoyed to see him again, not how he's acting now.

Mei had many breakdowns because of her grades and the pressure to be a spectacular student.

Pigsy got bullied alot in school for being a pig demon. It wasn't everyone, most people liked him, just a specific group of kids.

To add on to #7, Tang used to beat himself up over not being able to help Pigsy. He HATED seeing Pigsy getting bullied but he knew that if he tried to start a fight he would either get beat because he can't fight or get himself kicked out of school.

Mk gets nightmares of Wukong getting forced into the scroll. Sometimes he wonders what would of happened if Wukong never got out. He usually ends up crying.

The closest thing Sandy ever got to being violent is when one of his cats scared him and he accidently dropped Mo. He cried. Alot. (Mo was fine but he just hates his cats being hurt.)

Sandy still doesn't know Hunstman is dead. He just thinks that Huntsman was scared of him so he never came back. (Guess Hunstmans my favorite and he's dead and i hate it here god dammit.)

No one can say anything about Azure or Azure's death around Wukong because he will get upset. Macaque made a joke one time and Wukong lost his shit. He's still kinda shooken up about it.

Some of the baby monkies recognize Macaque as the one disguised as Wukong that ate the monkey and passed it around. Those monkies REFUSE to be around him. They get violent if they have to be around him.

Nezha wants to see Wukong, Redson, and the others more but his job is so demanding he barely gets to leave.

Wukong physically couldn't be around Tang for long periods of time when they first met. He got more comfortable with him over time but Tang reminded him to much of Tripitaka and he couldn't handle it.

Mei doesn't yell out of anger, like serious anger alot. When she finally yelled at Wukong because of the fire, all Wukong saw was Ao Lie screaming at him. (Stole that headcannon from a friend of mine. Thanks Ainnur you ruined my life.)

Mk brought up the fact that Wukong was willing to put the fire into himself and sacrifice himself, almost certainly killing himself in the process one time. Wukong kinda laughed and just said "Yeah, had to save the world bud. It's a shame Macaque messed up my plan, the world woulda been a little bit more peaceful if me AND Lady Bone Demon died." He wasn't even trying to admit suicidal feelings, he was just being honest. This scared the SHIT out of Mk because Wukong just admitted that he can and will kill himself if he feel he needs too.

Sandy often feels left out of the group and not as important but he doesn't wanna ruin everyone's fun so he stays quiet.

Bai he was ready to die when she was found by the Monkie Gang. She wasn't scared of death anymore.

Bai he was scared of Wukong when they first met face to face. Wukong apologized and explained himself. Over time she got a little more comfortable with him. She understands why he's apologizing but at that point she was so ready to die she didn't care who did it.

Redson wants to be around Sun Wukong again but he doesn't know how to start the relationship again. Same on Wukongs part but he's a bit more forward.

Macaque gets physical in fights fast. Partly cause his fights with Peng, Partly cause of his life before Wukong, Partly cause of Lady Bone Demon. If Macaque thinks a situation will get rough, he'll try to fight but if he thinks he'll lose he'll dip.

Princess Iron Fan unintentionally critiques Redsons's looks all the time. It messes with him alot so he's quite insecure.

Mei feels the need to always be upbeat and cheerful so Mk doesn't sink to far into depression. She can tell when he does this for her but she doesn't bring it up.

Pigsy's worst fear is that Mk won't come back home. The nightmares he's had of this is brutal.

I could make more but I'm sleeeeepppy. I'll make a part two one day though. Leave your own headcannons cause seeing other people break down these characters is so fun.

(How some people think Mk will be in season 5)

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[midnight-vixn]

So I love being bit during sex, what do you think the brothers are like about biting? Who would like to bite where and how much? Who's got some nice sharp fangs? Would they pull you into a quick make out session just to mark you up if they felt possessive? Idk just biting in general is so hot

Oooooooooh anon you beautiful creature, a thousand smooches for you!!! I LOVE biting, and our boys do too ;) I’m gonna include all the brothers on this one, I may do the dateables too in a different post if there’s interest! Dateables found here

Love Bites

Lucifer:

The prideful first born isn’t typically prone to biting but absolutely will if it gets you to make that sultry noise again. Lucifer bites gently but in a way that makes you feel owned! Normally biting on your inner thighs or low on your collar bone so it can be covered by clothing, he can’t have the gossips at RAD Asmodeus talking about you covered in his marks all day. Then again, if his brothers piss him off, are taking up too much of your time and preventing him from spending quality time with you? He absolutely will leave visible marks, just to remind them who you belong to.

Mammon:

Listen, Mams loves to be bitten. But only by you. He’s the second highest ranking whore in the house after all, but he’s your whore. He never really cared for it before you came along, but the moment you bit down on his neck during one particularly hot make out session…his whole world changed. Mammon has the perfect set of fangs that send you half way to the celestial realm when he lightly scrapes them across the skin on your neck right before he leaves a massive hickey. Our greedy boy has also been known to pull you into an impromptu make out sesh in a fit of jealousy because some lower demon was looking at you a little too long or talking to you a little to sweetly. All areas are fair game when Mammon starts biting, but his favorite spots are your thighs, chest, lower stomach and of course neck so everyone can see his fang marks.

Leviathan:

Poor Levi is normally too scared to bite, full of “What if I hurt you?” “What if I do it wrong?” “What if you think it’s gross after I do it?” The best way to shut him up? Bite him on the side of his neck. The result will be the sluttiest moan you’ve ever heard the little weeb make…along with the brightest red blush. Eventually Levi will gain the confidence to bite you back and once he does he’s very gentle with it, applying just enough pressure to qualify as a bite but not enough to possibly hurt you. He’s too new to the whole thing to really have a favorite place to bite you but on him? Uh, totally not a gentle little nibble on his ear, that does uh, nothing for him…what a normie thing to ask…

Satan:

Satan has always loved to play fight/wrestle with you in that cute way that couples do in his romance novels, rolling around on the bed laughing at each other, but he never expected you to playfully bite him…and he never expected to moan like that either. Satan bites softly and whispers how much he loves you as he does it, even when he does bite hard during sex he’s constantly praising you and telling you how much you mean to him. Satan adores biting up and down your legs and arms, gently biting at your wrists before places kisses on the palm of your hands. He also loves when you bite his shoulders and stomach, he secretly loves to rile you up until you’re annoyed or slightly angry so you’ll bite harder, the sensation from your bite paired with you indulging in his sin a little makes his head dizzy.

Asmodeus:

The queen himself loves to bite and be bitten but ONLY in the areas that feel good, unless of course this is a punishment~~ Asmo considers sex a work of art and you are his stunning blank canvas, perfect for sinking his fangs into. He loves every inch of you but really enjoys biting those spots that make you writhe against the mattress and if those spots are easy access during a make out then you bet they’re fair game even when in public.

Beelzebub:

Our gentle giant usually bites on complete accident, getting carried away while kissing your soft lips or caught up in the way you feel as he rails you into the mattress. Beel is prone biting at your lips, the first time is usually a mistake but then he’ll do it on purpose, gently pulling and sucking at your puffy lip. He’s also known to bite down on your shoulder/neck while fucking you, between the sharp sting of his thick fangs in your skin and the deep grunts filling your ear you have to grab the bed/pillow/headboard or nearest object to ground yourself. Beel thinks it’s cute when you bite him, it doesn’t hurt but it definitely makes him feel something with how quick he is to pin you down after.

Belphegor:

In true brat fashion Belphie bites at any given time. The two of you are cuddling and you’re texting a brother for too long? Bite. You guys are sitting in class and you move making him lose his comfy headrest? Bite. Never tell him to bite your ass…he’ll do it. In fact, he actually likes doing it because he loves how you react be it annoyed, pissed off or horny. If you into biting and bite back then making out usually ends up with you two sloppily kissing and biting each other’s necks, biting a little harder each time just to see how much pain the other can take, before getting handsy and taking things to the bedroom.