#and then he hated having to be around him and resents him for the soul bond

[soaked-ghost]

girls that struggle to breath and can't maintain a stable form and who hate each other

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Touya realizing he always had part of his mom's quirk, but it happening at the expense of abusing his body and soul so bad it almost killed him.

Tenko realizing his quirk was not even his own and he could have undone what he did by accident to his family if he had been given the chance, but all the misery in his life was manipulated to be there.

Touya and Tenko insisting that they could be the best heroes around if allowed to be— but either their relative gave up or they were held back by a hidden evil power.

Touya and Tenko accepting their identities as beings who can only destroy and getting new names to represent that belief.

The change of hair color. The self-destructive tendencies and self-mutilations. The tears they couldn't cry.

The way Touya and Tenko tried to explain to their families how they felt, but it didn't work. Later, both of them came to resent their siblings for not being able to save them while still missing them and wishing for their company.

Both kids being aware of how cowardly their families were. Their fathers hated them and no other kid would get it, so why tell them?

Only Tenko and Touya would know what each other went through.

[ichatake]

Uchihas reacting to “I hate you”s

Request are open! Request rules here!

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Obito Uchiha, Madara Uchiha, Itachi Uchiha, Shisui Uchiha

Warning: slight angst, nothing else.

Obito Uchiha (Villain)

✧ “I hate you,” he stood there, his expression unwavering as your voice seethed with anger. Your voice could cut through thick glass as you shouted at him, but he felt nothing whatsoever. Even as your eyes bore into him, filled with a hatred so intense it could burn a hole through his soul, it wasn’t directed towards him. No, not ever. Yet despite the venom in your words, he didn’t flinch. Instead he listened intently, his expression indifferent. “That’s okay,” he responded, his voice devoid of any apparent emotion. In any other scenario, he would’ve crumpled under the weight of your vitriol, weeping and pleading for an explanation as to why you might hate him. But not now, because he already knew why.

✧ He knew how you mourned him for years, believing him dead and gone, only to find out the hard way the reality. He knew you visited his grave, and wished that you were in his position. He knew that your trust—your perspective of reality had been shattered the very moment his mask fell from his face. With a heavy heart, he continued “I would too,” his gaze never left yours, watching as tears streamed down your reddened cheeks. It had been years since he’d seen you this close, yet you looked young and pretty. The prettiest he’s ever seen you, even with tears glistening on your pretty face.

✧ “I hate you so much,” your voice cracked with pain and resentment as you spoke to him. Your Obito. The revelation that he was still alive, but causing so much pain and suffering shattered your world, leaving you emotionally fractured. “Why? Why do all of this? Why hurt so many?” You ask, searching his face for remorse but finding none, “Because this world is broken,” he answers steadily, his voice awfully gentle to you. “You have nothing in this reality,” his arms open, showing you the distress and chaos that is currently occurring around you. He wanted you to see how your comrades laid lifeless—to make you understand that you lost your friends, your family, your ‘happy ending’. “ Let this happen, and you will be forever happy,” he pauses briefly, searching for the right words to say. He chose his words carefully, locking eyes with you, “With me. With a better version of me. One that will keep you happy for the rest of your life,” Despite your heart-wrenching cries, he did nothing to stop this war. As you wept before him, he knew your pain would be temporary. He knew that once his plan took action—the infinite Tsukuyomi—you would find happiness. Even if you hate him now, he reassured himself, you wouldn’t think the same after his plan was completed.

Obito Uchiha (Shinobi)

✧ Obito, a strong and beloved jonin from the Leaf village, stood there, his chest tightening at the words that just came out of your mouth. His expression shifted as his mind struggled to comprehend what you had said. Suddenly, without a second thought, his words slipped through his lips as he tried to make sense of what you told him, “What… did you say?” he asked carefully, his eyes frantically darting over your face as if searching for an answer. You met his gaze, repeating your words with unwavering conviction, “I said, I hate you,”

✧ As you repeat yourself, Obito’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, his throat constricting as it became harder to breathe. He could handle any other response, any other thing you could have said, but hearing your harsh words was almost too much for him. “Why? What did I do? I don’t understand,” he manages to ask in desperation, trying his best to move closer to you. His heart clenched and turned inside his chest, and he boiled with fear. He loves you! He loves you to the moon and back! Why would you say that you hate him when he eats, sleeps, and breathes for you? You were his everything, so how could you hate him when he loved you so dearly?

✧ “Because you never notice how much I try for you. You’re always looking for Rin’s approval, and what about me? I’m left in the dark with nothing. I’m done with you. I’m done with trying to make you realize I’ve been in love with you for years,” you pour your heart out to him, desperate and hurt, and that’s when he realizes what this was about. Though his heart slightly fluttered at your revelation, he still felt awful for the way you were feeling all this time. The tingling sensation in the back of his mind kept bothering him as he examined every inch of your expression. “That’s… why?” He asks with a drop of his shoulder, sighing in pure relief at your confession, which only fueled the burning anger inside you. “I thought it was for something else I might’ve done… (Y/N), I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but I’m in love with you,” his confession caught you in surprise, his voice revealing his true feelings with no hesitation. What once was nervousness and anxiety had now been replaced with determination as he yearned to seek for a solution. It was true, he was deeply in love with you, but people still thought he had something for Rin when he didn’t. However, he did hide the fact that he liked you out of fear of another rejection. With Rin, he handled it well, but with you? He wouldn’t be able to take it. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel horrible. I’m sorry I never noticed, and I’m sorry I hid it from you for so long. I love you, over anything there is in this world. The only thing I want is you, always and forever you,”

Madara Uchiha

✧ “I hate you,” your words felt like a slap to the face, making Madara turn around to face you swiftly. Although his face was deemed expressionless, his body tensed and tightened the more he processed your words. He had obviously been taken aback by your audacity to say such things, but he tried his best to hide his discomfort. With arms crossed over his chest, he scoffed and parted his lips, ready to give you a piece of his mind. “Get over it, woman,” he snarls at you with authority, and slight annoyance. You, his wife, should never say that to him. He’s given you everything; a home, a family, and more importantly, love. “You are acting like a child over something that should have never pestered you in the first place,” although your words had not hit him hard when you first spat them, they started to annoy him the more they set in, “If you hate me, why even decide to say yes when I proposed? If you are going to bother me with such nonsense, I will not bother with you,”

✧ His words were meant to hurt you as much as you hurt him, and when he notices the pain in your eyes, he’s satisfied… until he’s not. Until that annoying tingling feeling lingers under his skin as he watches your eyes brim with tears. The tingling feeling that pulled on the tendons of his heart any time you cried was crawling under every inch of his body. “Oh please, do not start with the tears,” he groaned in annoyance, but the salty tears were already streaming down your puffy cheeks. Despite this, he didn’t move an inch to comfort you, but watched you as you cried for a couple of minutes until he released an exasperated sigh. “Why? Why do you care so much for those people when all they have done is hurt you?” He asks with irritation, referring to your clan members who’ve hurt you in the past. He has said something out of line, and you argued with him about it, which ended you two up here.

✧ “Because we should be better people than them. Violence should never be the answer,” you sniffle with clenched fist, “But that is something you seem to never stop thinking about,” you admit, trying to hold in your tears. You didn’t want to keep crying like this in front of him. You wanted to be strong, “And if you think I am such a burden, then why keep this ring on my finger—,” you were surprised when his fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from taking off the ring he had gifted you the night he proposed, “Because I know who I married. The same nagging woman I am with now, is the same nagging woman I fell in love with. If I had any regrets of marrying you, you would be back in your clan,” he scoffs and pulls your head to his chest with an annoyed expression “I love you, you stupid woman,” to any other person, your relationship might’ve seemed strange, but to you, this moment showed you just how much he truly loved you. Even if he has weird ways of showing it.

Shisui Uchiha

✧ Wait, he didn’t quite hear you well. Wait, what did you say? He turned towards you with a raised brow, his mouth slightly parted as he tried to figure out if you had said what he thought you said. Noticing his lost expression, you had no choice but to repeat yourself, much to your annoyance “I hate you,” this time, he did hear you. Loud and clear. To him, it felt like he took hours to respond to you, but in reality, his answer left his mouth almost immediately, “No you don’t,” It wasn’t meant to be cocky, it just sounded like it was. At least, to you it sounded cocky, and it made you even angrier with him. It annoyed you that he never took you seriously, “Oh, so now you think you know how I feel, do you?” you spat at him, hands clenching into tight fists as your eyes locked intensely, “You never care about anything! You come home and sleep and don’t even have time for me. I know you have a hard job, and I don’t expect you to be there at my beck and call, but at least asking me how I am would be enough,” you stressed, waving your arms frantically around you in desperation. You had been like this all week, stressed and unable to talk to anyone, because the only person you could ever rant and banter about things that bothered you in life was barely there for you, and when he was, it was like he wasn’t! He would barely listen to you anymore, and would expect you to listen to him. And you did, you always did. But you wanted something in return, and that was a sliver of his attention.

✧ “You're telling me you hate me over something so little?” he asks with furrowed brows, making you even more annoyed, “Over something so little?” You repeated through gritted teeth. His face, for once, contorted into one of annoyance, something you had never seen on him before, “Yes! Little! Because you know how my line of work is! You know that I barely have time to sleep, let alone waste my time with useless banter!” You were left speechless, standing in front of him with hurt eyes. “Yeah, useless. You’re right. Because my feelings don’t matter,” you scoff, “That’s not what I—” you interrupt him by turning away, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as realization finally hits him. You weren’t trying to waste his time, you just wanted to spend time with him. He had been so lost in his work, so busy caring for himself that he completely neglected you.

✧ “Oh darling,” he takes your hand again, a frown painting his face, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean any of the things I said. I’m just stressed out. Everything's happening so fast, and the clan isn’t helping at all.” he sighs and pulls you in towards him, engulfing you in his tight embrace, yet you didn’t say anything, “I know I’ve been neglecting you, and you deserve better. Please, let me make it up to you,” he whispers into you hair as he lowers down to kiss your head, “I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t have you by my side,”

Itachi Uchiha

✧ “I hate you,” you mumble under your breath as you look at your lover. No, he wasn’t your lover anymore. He had left the village years ago, leaving you behind with a broken heart and a broken image of him. He was a monster who murdered his entire clan, and even though he had left years ago, he still looked the same as when he was still in the village, with only one difference. Those eyes. Those red eyes that stared deep into your soul. They terrified you. The eyes that you once loved and cared about so much looked down at you with no emotion. They were empty. They were dark. They were hurt. “I hate you, for everything that you did,” you pushed him, backing away from him with angry eyes. His cloak told you everything you needed to know. He was part of the Akatsuki, he was the enemy now. He was a traitor, and although your words were meant to hurt him, he closed his eyes and nodded, understanding your hatred towards him. “I understand,” he says in such a soft voice. His voice that you missed so much.

✧ You didn’t understand why he came to visit you. Why come in the middle of the night to see you? Why? Why waste his breath coming back to see you when he knew you wanted nothing to do with him? Because this would be his final goodbye. There were only a handful of people Itachi cared for—Two, to be exact. His brother, and the love of his life. He knew that soon he’d perish, and this was the final time he would ever see you again. Not that it mattered. He tried not to think about it, thinking it would make things worse. It would be better if he never came to see you, but his heart got the best of him, and so he sat there at your window, looking at you for one final time.

✧ “You don’t,” you clench your fist, hurt by his mere presence, “I don’t want anything to do with you, and I will report you to the higher ups. Unless you came here to kill me, which I don’t doubt,” you were defenseless, but you wouldn’t go out without a fight. Never. You would fight until the very end, but soon you realized he wasn’t there to kill you. “I have no need for that,” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I came by my own selfishness. I don’t expect you to understand, and I accept your hatred, which I deserve,” he looks at you, red eyes burning into yours, “I simply wanted to see you for a final time,” he smiles and reaches out for you, pushing your hair out of your face, “My love,” and with that, your vision goes black as your consciousness slips away from you. You would wake up the next day tucked into your bed with a necklace tucked tightly in your hand.

Sasuke Uchiha

✧ Words never hurt this Uchiha, he was used to every awful thing anyone could throw at him. He cared too little about anything and everything, and that's what you hated the most about him. He barely cared about anything you did or said, at all times. He didn’t care how you looked because he never complimented you, he didn’t care how you acted because he barely spoke to you. You felt like you were in a relationship with a ghost, in fact, the comparison was not even close, because dating a ghost would be ten times better than this. And with every passing day of being emotionally neglected by your partner, today was no different. He was back in the village, and instead of coming to you first—to his home—he decided it was better to meet with Naruto and Sakura over seeing his wife who waited patiently everyday for him. You questioned if the ring on your finger meant anything to him at all at that moment. Despite this,

✧ When he got home, you were so happy, yet he showed no sign of interest in anything you did for him. You cooked and he ate, saying nothing about the taste of your new recipe. In fact, he seemed like he didn’t notice that you had learnt to cook a new dish just for him. Even so, you shrugged his annoying attitude off and asked about his day instead. Your question seemed to annoy the tired man as he became uninterested in mid conversation. When you asked him what was wrong, he shrugged you off. You kept questioning him until he snapped at you, telling you how you were annoying him with all your worries. This had been the final straw. You always gave everything in the relationship. You understood he wasn’t the best at showing his emotions, but it didn’t mean he could act like he didn’t care about you. Like you were nothing. The argument got heated and it ended up with you opening your mouth without thinking. “I hate you!” After your words fell out of your mouth, the room fell silent. He who had been looking away from you, had now turned his full attention towards you, “You don’t mean that, stop being dramatic,” the sight of him rolling his eyes hurt you more than it ever did. “You don’t care about anything, Sasuke. I do everything to try and please you. I could even say I live for you, but it’s never enough! You don’t take a sliver of your time to appreciate me. You think I have to be there for you whenever you need me, but can just leave whenever you want!” you yell, hitting the wall in frustration.

✧ “You don’t care about me! You don't love me anymore!” you were in a current state of pure anger, letting out everything you ever wanted to say to him. This makes him stand up and walk towards you, taking your wrist in his hand. You look up at him, tears of frustration prickling in the corner of your eyes. “If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. You mean a lot more to me than you think. I… I’m sorry if I don’t show it,” he sighs, “I love your cooking, I love your stories—I love hearing about everything that happened throughout your day. You’re the only thing I can think about when I’m away,” he lets go of your wrist and places a hand on your cheek, “Don’t hate me, because you’re the only important thing in my life. You’re my wife, and I…” he stops himself, trying to build the courage to complete his sentence. A small blush decorates his cheeks before he sighs, “I care for you a lot,” your husband wasn’t perfect, but you still loved him a lot, and you knew he loved you too.

[fhrlclln]

II. can you try me? | qimir

SUMMARY -> when two paths collide, it becomes one. but your differences make it an obstacle for this path you both now walk with the sith lord.

qimir x fem! reader

part I

GENRE -> angst, fluff & nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> unprotected p in v, fingering, hair-pulling, slight exhibitionism & slight choking

WC -> 3.39k

a/n: i went on a downward spiral into the sith code & their decrees for this. also, aside from the juicy smut i wrote, i really love how the conflict between qimir and reader transpires here lolzz i fucking hate tumblr so much lol i had to repost this multiple times just for it to appear in the hashtags

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

what was it that made you so special?

the question ripples in the sith's mind, just like how the water ripples in the lagoon as he wraps his arms around your waist. your bare back pressed against his bare chest as he presses wet kisses on your shoulders having the taste of sea salt on his lips. addicting. he thinks, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck as he felt you shiver as he kisses the soft flesh of yours every so lightly. he doesn't want this to end, he thinks of next. the sound of your breathy sigh makes him press his hips against your bottom as he grinds slightly.

a quiet moan escapes your lips.

and that answers the circling question in his mind- for a moment.

"is having a second wash a thing of yours?" you tease him as you press back against his hips as well. a small smile dances across his face as he groans in your neck.

"being extra clean with a woman in my arms? yeah, i'd call it my thing now." he huffs, hands roaming up to your chest as you giggled at the sensation of his moustache tickling your neck. as he was about to have his hands grasp the plump swell of your breasts but you stop him for a moment.

"we should head back." you whisper, turning your head to the side to meet his eyes. he almost pouts at that as you further explained your reasoning. "it's almost getting dark and cold, qimir." you try to hold back a smile when he shakes his head.

"i'll keep you warm." he suggests, tone heavy with a rasp that makes you clench your thighs underneath the pristine water.

"i mean it..." you roll your eyes as you turn around to face him as his hands settle down on your hips as he massages them.

"fine." he gives in despite his refusal but the way your eyes look at him had him already giving in. you kiss him as he kisses you back eagerly. he watches you part away from him and he almost wants to pull you back in but he controls himself with the urge. since when did he felt like this before? the fluttery feeling in his chest and the dizziness of desire? he can't remember. he was once a jedi and the essential aspect of being a jedi was to forgo attachments. feelings of desire were forbidden, along with anger, hate, jealousy, resentment... only to have a calm serene mind, in control with your emotions and not be swayed with the dark side of love.

the thought of the jedi code brings hate within him.

though, long since he abandoned the order and set on his path of freedom. when did he ever had someone like you? and it dawns on him, you are his first. first love? it makes his heart beat loudly upon that realization. he never loved anyone as strong as his love for you. you, the woman from the market with those innocent eyes and the most kindness soul, have swept his heart and mind entirely like the pull of the darkness.

"qimir?" you call out as you dressed in your robes. "you'll get cold there." you say with a worried tone as you tuck your lightsaber to your belt. he looks up, eyes momentarily flicking down to your saber as he heads towards the shore, towards you.

"you have a staring problem." you smile teasingly as you hand him his clothes. qimir chuckles as you adored the way he acts now, just like the moments in olega, in his apothecary.

"i blame you." he says as you roll your eyes again before you shoved his tunic to his chest, earning a teasing smile from him.

hand-in-hand, you both arrive back to his home. osha's head shot up from where she sits and you see her, an emotion crosses her face and you look at qimir. there's an unreadable expression on his face but you still caught on what has been said between them. and you wonder, if he had meant that he'd have you as an equal than his desire to have an acolyte. though, doubt crosses your mind with that- remembering the decree of the siths. chwayatyun, as your master had taught you. and you wondered further how your master had come across the sith's doctrine to bestow this knowledge upon you.

two should only exist- master and apprentice. one to represent the power of the dark side and one to crave for it.

a cycle. a vicious cycle of the greed for power that corrupts. your master had quoted to you in your trainings.

"can... i speak to you?" osha's gaze is trained towards you, a sort of plea you register in her tone. you let go of qimir's hand as he merely stays quiet yet his eyes don't deceive you that his gaze suddenly hardens. you look away from him as you nod at osha.

"of course." you smile at her. you sit next to her as qimir shuffles in the background as he heads somewhere deep in the cave. osha fiddles with her hands nervously. you take it as a sign for you grasp her hands in yours, urging her to remain calm.

"what can i help you with, osha?" you ask with a gentle voice.

"i don't know what i really want to believe anymore." she begins. "he says that my strength in the force is more than what the jedi had taught me. and... i ask you, do you think it's true?" her eyes search for an answer in yours.

"it's true." you nod. "i am no jedi, osha but i was trained in your jedi code in someway. my master taught me there are multiple ways to access the force. the jedi may have taught there is only one for that."

"he said that as well. that there is another way..." her words drift and you know what she's talking about. "i'm not easily corrupted like my sister."

"i know." you say as she sighs. "that path he says of... yes, emotions can be a strong factor. i've experienced it before but i resisted in honing those further."

"how? how did you resist it?"

you stay silent for a moment, that memory of being swayed into corruption has long been in the back of your mind. something that lurks and destroys your head from reminiscing it. your master's face in anguish and betrayal, and you-

"i didn't before." you confessed, a tremble in your voice. osha brows scrunches in confusion. "like i said, i am no jedi. but i taught myself now that power isn't what i seek and greed is a awful thing to have."

"what do you seek now then?"

"nothing." you say, shrugging. "but trinkets, food and love, perhaps." a smile is on osha's face with that and it makes you smile as well.

"how are you with him?" osha suddenly asks, removing her hands from yours. "how can you trust him? you saw him how he killed my friends." you see tears swell in her eyes and the question does seem to make you ponder.

"i think i like to gamble with that. trust is a dangerous game." the answer you give feels like it wasn't enough to explain it but it was there. "and nor should you trust him, osha." you whisper that, feeling like a hypocrite.

"i'm gonna get some dinner." you said quietly, standing up as osha nods. you see her leave from where she sat as you approach the steaming pot that qimir had cooked. osha's questions hangs in your mind as you stare at the steaming stew, a familiar aroma catches your nose. do you really trust him? you pick up the spoon in the spot and scooped a bit of the stew as you took a sip. the taste of it surprises you.

it's your stew he cooked.

the questions disperse immediately in your mind as you sighed. trust is a dangerous game indeed with him.

・゜゜・．

"have you eaten already?" you ask feeling qimir enter the room.

"i did." he answers as he huffs, placing a crate near some junk he has in the corner of the cave. you're sat on his bed, legs crossed and eyes closed as you exhaled slowly. your saber is perfectly levitating in front of you and qimir smirks at the sight.

"meditating? very jedi of you." you feel his presence behind you as he bends down to kiss your neck. you hum, letting him interrupt your meditation.

"i just like meditating. makes my head empty." you answer him as you open your eyes as you catch your saber before it fell on your lap and placed it on the table beside the bed.

"a credit for your thoughts then?" he sits beside you as he grasps your free hand.

"i feel osha's conflict with herself." you begin, intertwining your fingers with his. you look at him now as you ask him. "what do you really want from her?"

qimir's face is emotionless as he raises your hand to his lips. he doesn't answer you, he knows you figured it out what his true intentions are for the girl, and mae before that.

"i think you know." he kisses your knuckles.

"you see a similarity in her like you." you say. "revenge, freedom... power. you saw that in mae, yes but in osha, you feel her desire for it more."

"are you looking to let osha kill her master for that freedom she seeks?" you eye him, remembering sol, he would eventually find where osha and them are. qimir doesn't say anything for a moment, he feels amused, how easy you read him.

"it's up to her." he says. "rage and loss is a powerful emotion."

"if you are so trapped in hatred and revenge, is that really freedom?" he tenses a bit at your words. "i think it's a facade."

"and this means?"

"stop making her see that this is her only way."

"spoken like a true jedi." he mocks you, an anger builds inside him. you don't understand him, you don't understand why. he has to make you understand this somehow.

"don't toy with me now, qimir." you plead with him as you search his emotionless eyes for something. doubt? maybe a hint of guilt? yet you can see that there was none.

"you say these words but i know how you also felt how powerful it is when you accepted it." he had heard your talk with osha. his gaze roams to your features as he takes in the look of guilt in your eyes.

"i chose not to dwell with the dark side as my master had taught me of what becomes of who follow that path. and power? i simply wished to live a free life now, qimir. even in secrecy away from the order, mundane as it is in olega, i am free." you sighed as he puts your hand to cup his cheek as he kisses your palm.

"freedom in secrecy? are you truly free when you hide away in the shadows of your city?" he mirrors your words. "you'll understand why i chose this, love."

"i think i don't want to." you confess, your tone hushed. "i don't wish to part away from you because of this. and you'll kill me if i somehow get in your way in your path." his eyes widen slightly at that and his jaw clenches at how sure your words are. is your trust for him so little?

"i won't." there's the emotion you were looking for in his words and face. the sadness.

"you will." you give him a sad smile.

"you don't trust me?" his heart clenches at his own question as you caress his cheek.

you blink. "i do. dangerously."

"then this path i walk, i walk it with you." he says strongly. "i don't wish to part from you either." he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours softly, to seal that promise in his words. you kiss him back, with much trust in those words. he could still feel you lost in those thoughts as he pulls away for a moment. face inches from yours as his gaze darkens seeing your lips shine.

“trust me more.” he says, almost a plead as he kisses you again, with more heat just like in the lagoon. your hands land on his hard chest as he pushes you back onto the bed as he towers over you. he gets in between your legs, pressing his hips forward as you caress his chest, way up to the soft skin of his that’s peaking out of his cream tunic.

“you’re so beautiful.” he sighs between kisses. dark brown orbs heavy with desire.

“flatterer.” you whisper, your voice also evident with desire for him.

“i speak the truth.” he kisses your chin then lovingly nips that spot on your neck making you let out a blissful sigh of pleasure. he grinds his hips down, clothed cock rubbing against your covered core, breaths mingled and heavy as his hands slowly crept inside your tunic. his touch on your bare skin makes you grip the nape of his neck, the fluttering feeling tickling you as he helps you undress your top then wiggling you out of your bottoms.

the clothes are tossed aside and he does the same with his tunic, granting you a wonderful view of his pale skin and the well-built form of his. he sees your eyes greedily take him in as your hands shot up to ghost your finger along his chest and downwards to the hem of his black bottoms.

he smirks as he also greedily takes in your bared form, soft skin is presented beneath him, your breasts are calling out to him as he finally leans down to take a nipple in his mouth. you let out a gasp, the sensation of his warm lips wrapped around your areola as he sucks. you arch your back as his other hand grasp the other, kneading and squeezing as you rake your hand in his black locks, seeing it cascade his face.

"qimir..." you breathily moan out, trying to be quiet, knowing osha is in the other room. he pushes his hips forward, grinding his hard length down making you jolt your hips up to feel him more. releasing your nipple with a pop, his lips ghost up back your neck again as he nips and sucks, wanting to leave bruised marks across your body. his other hand descends down your stomach then to your inner thighs as he feels his way to the prize down there between your legs.

"all for me?" he whispers, his fingers ghosting over your wetness. you nod dumbly as he lets out an airy sigh when he touches you finally. he's in a trance, lips hovering above your neck, eyes trained down to see what he's doing and to see your pretty cunt react to his fingers as he rubs your clit in circles. he can see you trying to hold mewls and moans, knowing you'd be embarrassed if osha somehow hears what the two of you are doing. maybe that ignites something in him, wanting to show-off how good he makes you feel.

"don't hold back." he ushers, fingers coated in your slick as he rubs even harder and a bit more faster as you gripped his toned biceps. he smirks, watching you fall apart as he suddenly removes his fingers on your clit making you let out a low whine. he sits up momentarily, disappointed a bit that he can't feel your body heat to his but he eases.

he sighs, groaning when he cups himself, feeling his cock twitching underneath his pants as he licks his fingers clean before shoving his pants down. you watch him as he grasp himself, making your core clench at the sight of his cock. you open your legs a bit wider as he leans forward, kissing your heated cheek lovingly as you placed your hands to the back of his head. he feels like in a state of a dreamy feeling, addicted and desperate to feel you wrap around him.

"don't hold back as well." you tease him as he groans when you rub your cunt against his tip. he closes his eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation as he airily chuckles. he aligns himself to your vulva, pushing forward slowly earning a breathy gasp from you. he groans out, feeling you clench around him as he pushes his hips forward, inch by inch. the warmness of your cunt is making him feel dizzy as he props himself on his elbows as you kissed his neck lovingly.

qimir shudders as he's fully inside you.

"you feel so good." he whines, slowly rocking his hips back and forth. your hand caresses the nape of neck as it creeps upward to his hair as you grip it, pulling lightly making him moan out your name. he sets a pace, pounding into you with much desperation, your breasts move with each powerful thrust he does.

your hearts beat, chest to chest, lips to lips, eyes staring back at each other with much silent love there is. he kisses you as he rocks a rhythm of endless pleasure. you kiss him back, tongue dancing with his. you match his pace with a subtle rock in your hips as well. he moans in your mouth as his hand grips your neck, you sigh heavenly, his big hand on your throat. squeezing lightly as he fucks you with more precision.

"qimir, please-" you feel like you're about to explode as his other hand descended down to rub your clit. he feels you clench hard around him as your fingers gripped tight on his hair. he groans, pounding into you, loving the way your face contorts into a face of pleasure. he gives one hard thrust in your warm cunt before your back arch, shuddering as you clamp tight around him. his muscles tense as you greedily take in his sweaty figure. your orgasm washes over you as qimir pounds into you.

"good, good, so good for me-" he rolls his eyes back as he also is at the point of cumming. he trains his eyes down to you, seeing your wet eyes, bruised chest and neck, his hand wrapped around your pretty throat and those moans you let out when he thrusts in faster. an guttural groan he lets out as he empties himself inside you, flooding your cunt with his warm cum.

you let out a breathy sigh, feeling warm underneath him. he pulls out, dropping beside you as you release your hand from his hair. you let him pull you to his chest, a muscled arm wrapped around your back as you drop your head to his chest. your chests are heaving and you can hear the strong beat of his heart and it makes you smile.

"you are my equal." he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

"and i you." you whisper back, those words cementing between both of you as you wondered further but you let yourself close your eyes, enjoying the quiet moment.

the whole room is dark as you sat up on the bed. qimir is fast asleep beside you, still bare but his back is shown in front of you. your eyes wander to the scar of his, your finger ghost above it but you pull away. you kiss his shoulder as he stirs for a moment. you stand up, wrapping yourself around your discarded robe you pick up from the floor as you headed to the other room.

and you watch with heavy eyes, seeing osha putting on the cortosis helmet qimir wore. and that answers the question in your mind of what path might the young girl take. a feeling washes over you and doubt crosses your mind as you look back to see your beloved sith sleeping peacefully. you watch back to osha as you step back, letting yourself accept what lies ahead and it frightens you finally.

but all you know is that qimir will be by your side, always.

writing smut after waking up is smth. XD

[nexysworld]

Summary: After his last failed mission, the D.S.O dropped him off at the shelter. Grumpy and off-putting, his chances of leaving were bleak until you came along. Pairing: Dog Hybrid!Vendetta Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, hybrid sex, unprotected sex, age gap, oral sex, knotting, mild dubcon reader into it though, cream pie, mentions of alcohol, mild angst, but also comfort, no use of y/n

Read on AO3 || Askbox || Masterlists A/N: A birthday gift for a wonderful person. <3 Also thanks to @explorevenus for helping with the banner photos, because Nexy still cannot Pinterest correctly. Title from the deftness song, Cherry Waves. I also have a bot based off this story: Character AI || Spicychat

Leon grumbled as he laid against the shitty bench-turned-bed inside the small gray walled kennel. There was only a folded up blanket for padding, to protect him from the cold cement beneath his back. It was a far cry to the plush and lavish hotel room beds previously provided by the D.S.O. His ears twitched as he curled in facing the wall, doing his best to drown out the sound of the other hybrids around him as well as the sound of the people looking around. His throat ached for the burn of some good whiskey.

He resented all of them – owners and the yipping little pups who they were here to claim. How many months had it been since he’d seen the dewy green of the grass outside. How many months since some poor soul decided to even peer into his kennel? Too many by his calculations.

Leon didn’t want an owner exactly, much more used to having his own freedom. It was one of the few good things about his previous employment. As a federal agent Leon had been allowed free reign for most things unlike the other hybrids who ran around playing butler-house-pet or fuck toy. An owner meant rules, it meant being friendly, it meant playing and being lovey – all the things he had grown to be inexplicably bad at.

He couldn’t deny though that somewhere deep within his alcohol riddled organs, it stung a little knowing that he was likely never leaving the kennel again, it was his prison.  An owner at least meant getting out of there. But alas, he wasn’t a puppy anymore, and between his age and ‘off putting personality’ as it stated on his papers, he knew it was a pipe dream.

He stretched his limbs, flopping onto his back, trying to push the thought out of his mind. Idly, he stared at the flickering light mounted to the ceiling, eyes following the creaky fan blades as they swirled around. It was almost enough to lull him into another dreamless nap, until he heard an unfamiliar gait heading his way. With no pups beyond his kennel he figured it was someone walking the wrong way, so he ignored it, returning to the fascinating task of counting specs on the ceiling tiles once he grew bored of the fan. 

“Hm?” One of his ears perked up as the footsteps stopped outside his room. A moment of silence, no further sound. The soft scent of some dainty perfume graced his nostrils. “What are you still standing there for? Puppies are the other way.” He called out idly, still not willing to acknowledge their presence with his eyes. 

“O-oh. Well…I wasn’t really looking for a puppy per se.”  Soft. Soft was the best way he could describe your voice, like his ears were being tucked into a cushiony blanket. He couldn’t decide if he hated it or not, but it intrigued him enough to finally sit up — it’d been a while since someone who sounded as sweet as you bothered to even look his way.

Scratching at his stubble he took you in, head to toe as he walked closer, leaning against the bars. Just as he thought; soft, sweet, cute, too young. “Not looking for a puppy?” He questioned, raising a dark brow. “You really think I’m your taste?”

Doe eyes darted to his little display plaque before back to his, he could tell you were nervous, the slightest rosy flush on your cheeks. “I think so.” The words weren’t confident, they wavered, your hands fidgeted. He wanted to laugh in dry amusement, but he wasn’t that mean. “Listen kid, unless you got a flask of whiskey hidden in your pocket, a cute thing like you is better off finding a puppy to fawn over.”

“I don’t want a puppy.” You said again, this time more firm, determination overtaking your features. “The whiskey can be arranged though.” 

“You’re joking.” “Nope. Dead serious.” “You read my file? You know how big of a grouch I can be.” “I did.I like a challenge.”  That ditzy little smile never left your face, but your eyes screamed sincerity. His eyes narrowed, he had both arms crossed while he considered what you were saying, squeezing the worn leather of his jacket. “There’s plenty of other old dogs around here.” “You’re not old.” “I’m 37.” “That’s not old.”

“Old for you.” “You don’t even know how old I am.” “You’re a real pain, you know that kid?” “I like you already.”  Leon tilted his head to the side, one ear flopping with the movement, his tail against his will wagging slowly behind him. You were interesting, that’s for sure, like a little warm dart shot into his iced over heart. For the briefest moment he felt hope, though he steeled it away as fast as it came – he knew better than to let emotions like that flourish. But at least he figured this could be a nice vacation.. “Know what? I like you too, kid. But don’t expect me to do any cute shit.” “No cute shit, got it.” 

The apartment was small, simple white walls, beige carpet that looked kinda scratchy. It reminded him of the first apartment he ever had, rented it himself when he began the police academy. That felt like a world away now – yet he could still remember the look on the manager’s face when he rolled up as a fresh-faced pup to sign the lease, his academy badge attached to his shirt. 

‘Wonder what my life would’ve been if I could’ve stayed that guy.’ He mused, following you around for the grand tour.  “It’s not much. But there’s a second bedroom you can have all to yourself, and the hall bathroom is all yours too.” 

He nodded, sniffing around the place, everything had your scent lingering on it, even down to the guest room sheets. That same dainty scent, he hated to admit it but it was nice, growing on him by the second – so much so he even felt his cock twitch in his pants. Surprising to him, he can’t remember the last time he popped a stiffy between the alcohol, work, and sour mood he’d been in forever.

When you weren’t looking he adjusted himself in his pants. You were saying something, but truthfully he was only half listening. “What was that?” “I was just saying how tomorrow we can stop and get you whatever you’re needing. I would offer you some of my pajamas but yknow…” 

“It’s fine, I’m a boxers kind of dog anyway.” He swatted you away dismissively. “Don’t worry about it either, I should still have some money in my account from my last job. I just have to get to the bank.” “Oh. Ok.” You replied. “Well uhmm, you know my room’s next door. If you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to come get me.” “Mhmm.” He didn’t say goodnight as he heard the door shut behind him. Not having much on his person to unpack, he decided to just strip for bed. He kicked his browned boots off into the corner, tossing the jacket on top. Opting to leave the tshirt on, he tossed his jeans over with the rest before flopping back onto the mattress. 

Truth be told, the silence was odd – even at the shelter there was always something or someone making noise. The loud industrial AC unit on blast, night puppies running around their rooms, idle chatter. Here there was just…silence, loneliness still. Despite the unease that set forth within him, he had to admit the feeling of a real mattress felt delightful, like floating on clouds. Rolling over he took the opportunity to bury his face in the pillow, finally getting to indulge in your scent as much as he wanted. His eyes squeezed shut, his tail wagged against the bed thumping each time it connected – he was glad for the privacy.  ‘I’m fucked up for this, she’s too young.’

He considered rubbing one out before falling asleep, but between the way he was sinking into the bed and the coolness of the pillow, he stood no chance. It wasn’t long before that sinking feeling of unconsciousness began to wrap itself around him. His cock could wait another day. 

For the first time in a long time, Leon dreamed while he slept. 

You sat in your own bed, unable to sleep. It was odd knowing that someone else was in your home for a change, but you supposed that was the whole point. 

Living alone was hard, kinda scary, and definitely lonely. Though the decision to get a hybrid was one you landed on impulsively. You considered a regular dog but that was more of a hassle than you wanted – what you really needed was a companion that could be independent. 

Leon’s picture was one of the first on the shelter’s website. You were surprised a dog his age was there, more surprised at how handsome he was if you were honest. His file caught your interest right away, previously employed, a government agent? The mystery behind that had you wanting to know more – was he like James Bond? Why would a government agent wind up in a shelter? Someone like that would make a good guard dog, right? 

And then of course when you saw him in person you knew you wanted him. Leather jacket, boots, and those cute fuzzy ears. God. It felt like his blue eyes pierced your soul, his locks framing his face – you loved it. 

Now here you were, he was in the room right next to you and yet you couldn’t get him off your mind. Looking over at the clock it was around midnight now. ‘Come on, just sleep. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can talk to him.’ You reminded yourself, trying to will your brain into submission

It didn’t work. 

“This sucks.” You complained to yourself, hanging your legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at your eyes. Figuring stretching your legs and grabbing a glass of water might help, you pushed forward, quietly making your way out of the room and down the small hallway to the kitchen.

The chilling water felt like a rush of relief the moment it made contact with your mouth, legs feeling better after walking as well. You stretched almost like a cat, arms in the air, relishing in the feeling before deciding to head back to bed. 

Your trek back was interrupted by sound coming from behind Leon’s door, it was so quiet at first you almost ignored it, until his booming voice made you jolt where you stood. 

“Fuck you Patricio, you fucking coward! I should kill you myself.”  “What the hell?” Nosily you cracked his door slightly. “Leon? Everything alright?” There was no immediate response, but you heard shuffling on the bed, like he was thrashing around. This time you pushed the door open completely, hall light illuminating the room just enough to see his torso on the bed. 

Another noise left him, almost like a pained cry, then a whimper. “Fuck you.” He said again. “They’re all dead because of you…no…because of me.” His voice became quieter towards the end of his sentence. 

“Leon?” You cooed his name, sitting down on the edge of the bed. You weren’t sure what to do, but it hurt to see him struggle in unconsciousness. Gently you placed your hand on his cheek, he was clammy, the stubble rough against your hand. He didn’t seem any closer to waking, but you could feel his facial muscles tense – a growl left him as he rolled the other way. 

Daring to reach out, you pet at his ears gently, the short fur soft against your skin. “Hey, it’s alright.” You moved closer on the bed, intending to try and comfort him some more. Instead, your hand landed on his tail by accident. 

Leon jolted awake, and in an instant you were flipped onto your stomach, arm twisted and pinned to your back. Your muscles strained painfully, his grip bruising. His breath was hot against your ear, growling loud. “Ow!” You whimpered, face buried into the pillow. 

His nose pressed into your neck, sniffing a bit before he finally retracted slightly. You could feel his cock harden a little as it twitched through his boxers, pressed slightly in on your thigh from behind. “Oh shit.” He said, sleep addled brain fully catching up. “Shit, I’m sorry kid.” He didn’t move off of you completely, but he let go of your arm at least. “You alright?” “I think so.” “What were you even doing in here?” “You were having a bad dream. I wanted to make sure you were ok.” You mumbled against the pillow, flopping your arm to the side to ease the pain and tension from how it had been pulled. You weren’t sure what to do next, ask him to get off? Try to move? Stay still? While it should have scared you more than it did, you hadn’t expected him pinning you down to make you feel…exhilarated? That coupled with him pressed against you made your panties grow sticky with arousal. ‘This is awkward.’ You thought to yourself, hoping he didn’t notice. Hoping he would do something on his end to move the situation forward.

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you were in here?” You couldn’t see him, but you swore you could hear the smirk in his very words. He leaned over you again, this time his chest flush against your back, lips against your ear. “I can smell it on you, you know. Don’t even need to feel it to know you’re soaking.” 

“Wha–” Your face burned hot with embarrassment, more slick soaked your panties with just his words. “No I swear, I was just –” Your words were cut off instantly by the feeling of his tongue on the shell of your ear, the warm muscle teasing it, skin cooling the moment it moved away. 

“You smelled good earlier. But now? Now you smell like a fucking treat.” He said, burying his nose back into your neck, pressing his now nearly fully hard cock against you more. He ground down slightly as he took in your scent again. “Wanna just tear you apart, eat you up.” 

“Leon!” You gasped out, squirming under him. “Bad boy!” You managed to get out, though it lacked any real authority.  He snorted with amusement, leaning back, a firm grasp on your hips with both hands. “I’m bad? Who’s the one sneaking into someone else’s bed in the middle of the night?” He punctuated each word by grinding his clothed erection against your clothed cunt.  “I already said..I wasn’t… Bad, boy. Down!” You whimpered again, trying to sound firm this time, and failing again. 

“No can do.” He replied. “Got me all worked up now.” He gave a solid slap to your ass cheek, not enough to leave a mark, but just enough to sting lightly. “I warned you to go fawn over a puppy, didn’t I?” “L-leon –”

 “Not in control with me, Sweetheart. Shouldn’t get a pet you’re not ready to take care of.” 

You weren’t able to reply as he brought his hand between you from behind, rubbing at your clit through your panties. He ghosted his fingers there with just enough pressure to make you want more, but not enough to really push you over that cliff of euphoria. A needy whine worked it’s way out of you, and you ground your clothes pussy back against his hands, desperate for more pressure.  “That’s better.” He praised, rewarding you by letting rut against his hand. “Gonna cum just from that, aren’t you? Dirty little owner.” He teased.  “N-no” You attempted to protest, but he was right. It felt so good, though a little rough from the friction of the wet fabric. Your hips didn’t stop their movement against his warm hand, chasing that pleasure, each movement making you whimper into the pillow. It wasn’t long before you were cumming against his hand, him rubbing your back with his free one, coaxing you through it. “Atta girl,” he praised. 

While you caught your breath, he made quick work of your panties, not bothering to pull them off, opting to tear the thin fabric instead, leaving them torn between your legs. “Bet you taste as good as you smell.” He mumbled to himself, scooting down the bed enough that he could lean forward face to face with your wet folds. He gave no warning before he dove in, tongue lapping at you like you were dripping liquid gold. “Sweet as a fuckin’ treat.” He said, pulling away just long enough to take a breath before sucking on your clit gently, swirling his tongue around it.

Too sensitive from your previous orgasm, you kicked against the bed, back arching as you tried to get his attention. “S’too much.” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut. If he heard you, he didn’t acknowledge it, simply pulling you closer to his face, strong arms keeping you pinned where you were as he continued devouring your cunt mercilessly. “S’too much!” You cried out again. 

With one more particularly hard suck, your whole body tensed, hole clenching around nothing as you came again. Hot pleasure radiated from your core, shooting zaps of pleasure that tingled your fingertips and made your toes curl. Little aftershocks of pleasure made your brain hazy as he eased up on the pressure, giving light licks now to savor your taste. 

Legs trembling, you were relieved when you felt him move from between your thighs, feeling his weight shift off the bed for a moment. When he returned, you realized he’d taken his boxers off, whining pathetically as he ran the hot sticky tip of his cock against your folds, bumping it over your clit again for good measure making you squeal. 

“Be a good girl and relax.” He said, finally pressing himself inside of you. It was just the tip but you already felt so full, like you were being speared with every inch. “Easy, easy….biiiiiiiiiiigggg stretch.” He cooed, finally burying himself to the balls. You had never felt so full before, mouth opening into a little ‘o’ shape, no sound coming out. Velvet walls tightened around him, making him hiss behind you. “No pushin’ me out, not ‘til I’m done.” He said, sliding out just a little before pressing back in. He did this a few times, slow shallow thrusts, easing you open for him.  Leon wrapped one arm around you, pulling you back so you were leaning against him as he rocked your bodies together. He splayed one hand against your stomach to help hold you in place, the other a firm grip on your neck. Not tight enough for you to be unable to breathe, but enough to cut off some of the blood supply, give your brain that heavy drowsy feeling – tongue flopping out in your dazed state. 

Tilting your head to the side, he lapped at the junction between your neck and shoulder before biting down on the spot, letting just his canines puncture the skin, careful to not draw too much blood. You gasped at the sensation, while it stung at first, each slam of his thick cock head to your cervix made any pain forgettable, enjoying the feeling of being stretched and filled.

He was close, you could tell by the rugged and uneven breaths he was taking, mixed with how he desperately rutted into you. He pressed you forward back onto the mattress, releasing your neck to reach down and lace his fingers through yours, his other hand maintaining its spot around you for support as he smacked his hips against yours. 

Leon came hard, balls tightening as he painted your insides white with thick ropes of cum. He rode out his own pleasure with deep but slow thrusts, holding you tightly against him. It wasn’t long before the knot on his cock stretched you out further, nearly at your limit. “I know, I know.” He said, rubbing your stomach gently as you squeezed his other hand. Once you seemed mostly adjusted, he carefully rolled both of you so that you were laying sideways, one leg bent back slightly over his to accommodate where your bodies were still linked. He held you close to him, nuzzling into your neck and lapping up any remaining blood from the bite mark. 

Silence passed as your bodies cooled down together, an overwhelming sleepiness taking over you. You rubbed at your eyes again before breaking the silence by calling out his name. “Leon?” “Yeah?” “Are you really ok though?” “Huh?” He sounded genuinely perplexed by the simple question. “The nightmare, it sounded…real…like a memory. Are you alright, like really alright?” You turned your neck as best you could, wincing slightly from the bruised bite that was now aching a bit, trying to see his face in the dark room.  “You were serious about that?”  “Yeah, I was worried. I told you I wanted to make sure you were alright.” “Shit …. I’m fine kid, promise. Just a bad memory that’s done and over with.” 

“Wanna talk about it?”  “Right now?” He asked incredulously.  “Well, yeah why not? Post nut clarity and all that.”  “You’re literally stuck on my – “ He cut himself off with a sigh. “You’re a weird one.”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re kinda grumpy, especially when you first wake up.”  He let out a laugh, it sounded genuine this time. His knot finally deflating, he slipped out of you gently so he could readjust the way you were laying so you were facing him. He pulled you closer, burying your face in his chest, resting his chin on your head. You could hear the telltale sound of his tail gently patting against the bed – a part of you wanted to point out that he did, in fact, do cute shit, but held your tongue. Instead you closed your eyes, letting the smile he couldn’t see spread over your features, relishing in his warmth, and the smell of his spiced cologne.  “Tell you what. Keep me around long enough and I might just tell you about the dream some day.” “Mmm and what if I keep you around forever?” His tail thumped harder at that question, a sign of his true feeling, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  “Guess that remains to be seen.” You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off. “Go to sleep.” 

“Fine.” You conceded, too tired to really argue. A squeaky yawn escape you as you curled up into him, letting your eyes lid with sleep, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. 

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

[papasmoke]

We've only had two real poster presidents, Obama was our first, Trump our second. Bush Jr was the furthest thing from a posting president we've had since Ford, his dad had more of a poster's soul than him, Kamala & Joe both exclusively post for career purposes which does not count, Bill is probably in 20 year old women's IG replies on a burner but that's just speculation. Reagan is a non-starter, even if he'd lived to be 120 years old he'd just have traveled a circuit of televangelist churches, AM radio stations, & MIC conferences up to the present day. Carter probably follows his great great great grandchildren on instagram and has posted all caps comments under their wedding photos but again this is just speculation. No I'm not going to do any research for this post, I'm painting the light ok? For our confirmed posting presidents I wouldn't call either of them terrible at it in the way someone like Elon is or inept at it the way someone like Dean Norris(SEX GIFS) is but I would argue Obama's posting has been more pathetic. During his presidency Obama was purely a career poster but post-presidency he's turned himself into a celebrity & that's because that's who he holds the most respect for, it's why he does these netflix shows and puts out his music list every year and hangs out at parties with famous actors constantly, it's why he has been so inactive politically, he never gave a shit about any of that he just wanted people on TV to like him which they always have and he's living the life of a god now but that means there's zero friction in his life and his posting sucks because of it, it's textureless slop. Trump also respects and wants to hang out with all the same famous people but they all hate him and he resents them for it and that's fueled his posting for a long time. I think Trump's posting has been at its best when he's upset with someone famous he's been to the same parties as for 30 years and is at its worst when he's getting fellated by all the right wing ghost goblins and ghouls of America. Anyway my point is if the internet had been around in the 60's JFK & Nixon would have identical posting dynamics to Obama & Trump, also LBJ would have posted his cock and balls online and died before anyone had a chance to find out if it was an accident.

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Self Aware Sylus vs Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕆𝕟𝕪𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕤 𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

‼️[ TW: stalking, obsession, yandere Sylus au ]

・┆✦ Entry : 041 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ So You Think You Are the Darkness? ] ¡! ❞

Sylus was enjoying himself a glass of wine after fixing up his new toy before suddenly feeling a sharp pain originate from the back of his head. He groaned, gripping his silver hair and stumbling before ultimately being plunged into total darkness.

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar chair, plopped down with legs crossed on a white chair spouting nonesense he didnt want to say.

A flash of white would appear, and Sylus finds himself standing up towards a large screen in front of him. His body was moving on it's own, smirking, flashing a mischievous glint in his eyes, his eyebrows cocked up curiously as he once again spouted whatever.

Beyond that large screen in front of him is a person he is not familiar with,... Wait, why are you smirking?

Is there something so funny about his face? What is that stupid grin on your lips? What the hell?

Sylus's brain ringed as he hears your voice squeal in his head, watching your features contort into a lovely smile. He can tell you were kicking your feet and rolling on the bed like some sort of 13 year old girl having her first ever crush.

He snarls, clicking his tongue as he attempted to move— But nothing ame of his efforts.

The man elt like he was a hollow doll being puppeteered by some strings.

Oh and he hated that feeling.

The feeling of being underneath someone, the disgust he feels as he has to spout out words he doesnt ever want to say. Not to mention he is forced to stand like an awkward sack of potatoes as you tap and stroke around—

....

Did you Just?...

No way.

Sylus wanted to die right then and there.

You did not just rub his big fella.

You. Did. Not.

He felt like dying, he really did as he feels the gentle strokes— God.

He, the almighty lord of the N109 zone, the king who rules Onychinus at his fingertips, he who controls unimaginable power— Is helplessly screaming inside his head as he is humiliated over and over by having to stand still and look pretty as this wild person he doesn't even know poked at the trophy of his masculinity.

Was this punishment?

What has he ever done to offend the gods?

He cant even bring a finger up to flip off the person, or to even yell.

Sylus screamed out profanities in his head, wanting to so badly to just drop dead and disappear. If Luke and Kieran heard of this, he bets his soul to the devil they will never shut up about it.

He had to endure this torture for a number of days, but instead of resenting you more and more— He slowly found himself growing fond of you.

Turns out, hanging out in a sea of code is way more boring than whatever he does back home. Seeing you however? That was a different story.

At first, he found your admiration stupid and shallow. But as he sees the way you excitedly light up whenever he appears and working oh so hard to level up his affinity— Perhaps it tugged in his heartstrings

Just a little really.

Slowly, you were starting to grow cute in his eyes— Minus the fact you keep making rookie mistakes that send him over the edge facepalming at the mistakes.

But hey, at least you're trying.

...Hahah.

What?

He's atleast giving you credit for something, no?

Heh.

The fact that he is a game character didn't seem to bother Sylus at all. It was rather amusing even, the fact the he himself is just a product of someone's imagination in a different world is quite frankly a curious thing.

He could tell with how healthy and happy you are that wanderers do not exist in this world of yours.

Sylus could tell that in your world, you aren;t concerned of surviving the next day and calculating the people around you— Rather, you spend most of your time plucking your hair out over studies while he himself is sat down and cleaning a gun.

This game at least give shim something comfortable to do despite the fact that he has no control over his body in any shape or form.

The more time passes, the more Sylus started to see the errors in the system.

And nothing hurts to have a little... Fun.

He hacked into your phone system succesfully, roaming about and curiously poking here and there.

You awfully consume a lot of media pertaining to him. Sylus would only cock up an eyebrow and shake his head before stalking around a little more until—

...

"Who is this?" Sylus's voice grew a little annoyed as he saw the album containing another man.

The man was tall, not taller than him of course— Dressed in black, an asian guy who appears to be like a grim reaper with the way he carries himself. At least 3000 pictures of this same guy over and over in a single album, hundred times more than your album of him,

Sylus click his tongue and furiously started researching.

Ah.

His name is Jinwoo.

What a fascinating fellow.

Some fancy titles he has, the shadow monarch, the tenth s-ranker of south korea, the strongest hunter, and quite the charming powers. An ability over the undead?

It made him feel fury.

Oh he's so glad this bastard is just another fictional character just as himself in your little world.

Sylus disliked every bit of it, the fact that he shares a space in your heart with that lousy man.

Sure, he's impressive and all.

But oh darling he can do much,... Much more for you.

You think such a pathetic man is worthy of your affections? Darling he's all your.

Sweetie, why are you being so ridiculous about this?

No.

He cannot allow it.

That space in your delicate heart must only be his.

He must be the only person in this precious heart of yours, kitten.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It was a long day of university, your head is throbbing and your legs are about to give out. Walking all day has placed a number on your poor body and you wanted nothing more than to laze around and admire your men.

Sylus had been taking over your time so you decided to compensate your other hubby and reread Solo Leveling.

It's been a while after all, surely there are more panels to screenshot despite the fact that you already have hundreds of pictures of that oh-so-wonderful man.

So you open the app and—

...

Pitch Black.

Your phone just shut off out of nowhere?

You panic, holding the power button and smacking it around. Even tried to reach for the charger until you scream and drop your phone to the floor.

Inside your phone was a wide, bloodshot red eye like a crimson moon.

You stumble on your feet, falling down on the floor as you scrambled away from the device.

This cant be happening, right?

This is just a dream, isn't it?

No.

No.

No.

"Awe, kitten, are you scared?"

A familiar voice break through the silence, your head darting around to find the source but to no avail— The fact that you cant see anything made you all the more frightened.

You tremble, hyperventilating as your heart hammered against your chest.

"Now, now, sweetie" A low rumble hums in the air, "You'll get a heart attack if you continue like that, kitten. I can't have that."

Footsteps would start echoing on the floor, making you all the more frightened as you sobbed frantically.

"Mn, how cute."

You feel a hand roughly grab your chin, yanking it in front of you where a pair of crimson red eyes glowed and a face appearing.

Silver hair dancing in the air, illuminated by the blood moon outside the window. Black, and a neatly tailored suit over his shoulders.

Sylus.

"There, we go, kitten." Sylus hums, smirking coyly as he sees your flabbergasted expression. "I'm much, much more handsome up close, aren't I?"

His free hand teases your inner wrist; making you shiver in reponse, sliding it up sensously before ultimately intertwining your fingers. His palms were much much more larger than yours. Warm even.

"So cute," He whispers, before leaning down and capturing your lips in a blazing kiss.

It felt like your throat was on fire as Sylus prevented you from gasping for any air.

The more you struggled, the more your conciousness started slipping away.

And the next thing you knew— You were being dragged into the abyss.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

You wake up, groaning as you tousled over, your body aching and heavy.

"Sweetie, you woke up so early" A deep voice says, and you look up to find Sylus dressed in his robes— His chest and abdomen open for you to see. "Your body is still adjusting to your new reality, kitten. Sleep more."

He sat on the edge of the bed, amused red orbs gleaming as he lightly pushes you down on his sheets and pulls the blanket over your chest.

"There's a good girl," Sylus praises you, leaning down to kiss your forehead as a reward. "Don't worry, my sweet angel, all you need to do is sit still and look pretty. I'll take care of the rest.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Call me the speedrun master<33. Yw @sylusjinwoon I fr had a field day making a fic abt your hubby teehhee<33. Grampa is so silly I just wanna kick him on his gyatt all day xD!! Pretty fun writing for him ngl. It's amusing<3!! I hope I did ur man justice bestie and that u enjoy this silly impulsive fic hahah!!! Now time to crawl back to my hubby wubby Zayne and Jinwoonie ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Not Your Mother's

LUCIFER X READER Summary: Lucifer and Alastor hate each other, no surprise. But what happens when Alastor threatens one of the only things Lucifer loves? Warnings: Cussing, Violence. Rating: PG-13 For the dearest, @adeptusxiaohere, who read 'Our Mom' and thought of a different interpretation to Alastor's veiled threats! This one is a bit longer, around 1.5k words. See Masterlist for Request Status

In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought refuge and redemption, there existed a peculiar dynamic between two prominent figures: Lucifer and Alastor. Their disdain for each other was as notorious as the flames of Hell itself, an open secret whispered among the denizens of the hotel. Their clashes were legendary, echoing through the halls with the thunderous force of opposing titans. Yet, amidst their perpetual animosity, there was one figure who held a special place in both their hearts - a shining oasis of warmth and kindness, Y/N. Y/N's nurturing nature had endeared her to all, earning her the title of "mother", “mom”, “momma”, and even “abuela” among the residents of the hotel.

Of course, Lucifer found himself drawn to Y/N in ways he couldn't quite comprehend. Her compassion sparked something dormant within him, a longing for solace in the midst of his eternal torment. And so, they found solace in each other's company, their unlikely bond blossoming amidst the chaos of their surroundings.

However, Lucifer's newfound happiness did not sit well with Alastor. Beneath his jovial facade lurked a mad streak, his own rival taking something that he himself had provided to the Hotel. He owned Y/N's soul, how dare that insolent fallen angel touch something that he had rightfully won. Alastor, ever the enigmatic presence, watched their burgeoning relationship with a mixture of disdain and concern. To him, Lucifer was a rival not just for Y/N but for the very soul of the hotel itself. She provided something that even the Radio Demon could admit was special, reminding him of his own mother in a way; not that he would ever admit it. As Lucifer and Y/N's love blossomed, Alastor's facade began to crack. He masked his disdain with veiled threats, cloaked in the guise of protecting Y/N from Lucifer's supposed dark intentions. But with each passing day, his resentment festered, threatening to consume him whole.

Then, one fateful evening, in a moment of unchecked rage, Alastor's carefully constructed facade shattered. Per normal, the fit began as the two men challenged each other again. 

The atmosphere in the Hazbin Hotel crackled with tension as Lucifer and Alastor found themselves locked in yet another heated exchange. Their words were barbed, their insults cutting like knives as they circled each other with predatory intent.

"You're nothing but a pathetic excuse for a demon, Alastor," Lucifer spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "A mere puppet with delusions of grandeur."

Alastor's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with malice. "And you, Lucifer, are nothing but a fallen angel clinging to the remnants of your former glory," he retorted, his tone laced with venom. "A pitiful relic of a bygone era."

Their words stung, each barb sinking deeper into wounds long festering. But Lucifer, never one to back down from a challenge, pushed the boundaries even further.

"At least I'm not hiding behind a mask, pretending to be something I'm not," he sneered, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Unlike you, Alastor, I have the courage to face the truth. That you are weak and worth no note of attention or fear."

Alastor chuckled, stepping forward and placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, leaning down so his head was right next to her head as he looked toward Lucifer. "You dare insult me, Lucifer?" Alastor growled, his voice dripping with jovial menace. "You dare to mock me while you hide behind the skirts of this pathetic mortal? Let’s see how you like things being taken from you just as you took from me."

The line struck a nerve within Lucifer, who lost all resolve at the threatening of his loved one. Throwing a punch, it barely nicked Alastor’s head who slunk awya in the shadows. 

“Oh now, this is what I have been waiting for!” Slinking and dodging every punch and attack thrown his way, Alastor contininued to mock the King of Hell until Lucifer finally landed a punch and broke Alastor’s monocle. 

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events. She had always been a beacon of peace and understanding, a guiding light in the darkest of times. But now, she found herself caught in the crossfire of a battle she had no part in. Having been caught in the wake of blasts, her body now was bruised and bloodied. 

"Alastor, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling with emotion. "This isn't like you. We're all friends here. Can't we find a way to resolve this without resorting to violence?"

But her words fell on deaf ears as Alastor's rage consumed him whole at viewing the piece of broken glass. With a snarl of contempt, he turned his back on Y/N, his focus squarely fixed on Lucifer.

"This isn't over, Lucifer," he growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "Not by a long shot."

And with that ominous warning hanging in the air, Alastor summoned shadows, leaving behind a trail of destruction in his wake. As the echoes of his departure faded into silence, Y/N was left to pick up the pieces, her heart heavy with sorrow and regret. For in the world of demons and sinners, even the purest of souls could find themselves tainted by the darkness that lurked within.

The hotel trembled with the weight of Lucifer's wrath as he beheld the sight of Y/N, crumpled and wounded at Alastor's feet. In that moment, all pretense of civility vanished, replaced by a primal fury that consumed him whole.

With each blow exchanged between the two adversaries, Y/N's heart ached with a sorrow deeper than any physical wound. She had never imagined that their feud would escalate to such a destructive extent, nor had she ever anticipated becoming collateral damage in their battle of wills.

Through bleary eyes, Y/N watched as Lucifer and Alastor grappled with one another, their movements a blur of fury and desperation. Each punch landed with bone-crushing force, echoing through the hall like thunder in a storm-torn sky.

Summoning every ounce of strength within her battered body, Y/N pushed herself upright, determination burning in her eyes despite the agony that coursed through her veins. With shaky steps, she stumbled towards Lucifer and Alastor, her voice a hoarse whisper in the din of battle.

"Stop," she pleaded, her words barely audible above the din. "Please, stop..."

For a fleeting moment, the chaos seemed to abate as Lucifer and Alastor turned their gaze towards her, their expressions a mixture of shock and guilt. Y/N refused to back down. With a steely resolve born of love and compassion, she stepped between the warring demons, her outstretched arms a barrier against the violence that threatened to consume them all.

"Enough" she declared, her voice ringing with a clarity that cut through the chaos like a beacon in the darkness.

Both men let go of their death grips on each other and looked at the battered woman. 

“Go to your rooms.”

“But ducky–”

“I said go to your room Lucifer, you too Al. I don’t want to see you till morning. Then this place better be cleaned spotless!” 

Both men slunk away, as Y/N sighed, viewing the mess of the lobby around her. Plopping down on the nearest couch, Y/N drug her hands over her face. 

“Shit, did hot momma just put the Radio Demon and the King of Hell in time out?” 

“Angel, shut your fucking mouth.”

“You could always find ways to shut it up, Whiskers.”

[space-blue]

A Radical Messmer Theory

OKAY so hear me out.

I think we're all on top of things regarding how much Marika used to care for Messmer despite the embivalence of their relationship.

On one hand you have the OP healing vials she created for him and him only. You have his love and dedication to her. You have her taking his eye and giving her a seal that both locks the serpent but also hides the fact that he is GRACELESS.

Then you'll have things like how he hates his flame and tried to be rid of it, yet was clearly made to fight with it, in her name. How he wishes for hate and resentment to come to him and not her, yet she seems to have abandoned him.

BUT CONSIDER THIS!!

What if Marika sealed him away to keep him safe?

Because... If you are of the opinion that Marika has orchestrated the entire thing. That she exiled Godfrey and his people asking them to come back stronger because she was laying out a plan... That she hooked Ranni up with numen warriors to engineer Godwyn's death, then broke the Elden Ring purposefully...

And then took her punishment and set out to *wait* for the Tarnished to return and free her from the control of the Elden Beast...

Then it's possible that she veiled Messmer and exiled him to protect him FROM US. From the Shattering War.

After all, we can completely skip the DLC. Killing Mogh is completely optional. And the only reason we enter the shadow realm is because Miquella has discovered something of the gate of divinity and has been cooking up a plan for ages as well.

Miquella got thwarted and has been forced to wait in stasis until someone killed Radahn AND Mogh for ages. The moment he does, we have the opportunity to enter and follow, and because of that we have to kill Messmer.

But Marika's grace leads the way! you argue. Not until a certain point though, and most importantly: once Miquella is on his way to become a god (partially through your actions freeing the tower from shadows) then he becomes someone you need to kill because he's threatening the old order.

Marika is gambling on us, and when Miquella rises, she leads the way towards us defeating him and his consort, and then back to the main purpose.

But there's no reason to go kill Messmer. And if we don't, we can easily stipulate that Miquella's happy go lucky band of misfits also wouldn't have managed to bring him down, trapping Miquella's soul in the of shadows, once more in stasis waiting for a hurdle to be overcome for him.

It makes sense then, that the land of shadows, all considered, is the safest place for one of Marika's children to be. Out of the way. Without a great rune. He protects something she wants to keep secret, but maybe the secret itself protects him.

She sent him on that crusade around the time she married Radagon. Everyone theorises she wanted him out of the way to either have his true nature hidden out of shame or to protect him from backlash at the time, but imo she sent him to seal him away because :

1- she knows he's endlessly loyal and devoted

2- it gets her revenge underway and keeps her secrets

3- it gets Messmer out of the public eye in the moment

4- it keeps Messmer SAFE from the dark shit she's got planned that will wreck the lands between.

The Messmer most beloved son theory! The good Tarnished doesn't play the DLC, or does just long enough to run around but leaves Messmer alive and Miquella forever blue balled.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

MY BELOVED GHOST AND ME

toya x reader

you and your complicated lover have an honest talk about the future.

angst, so so much angst, guys i was so sad when i wrote this, euphoria reference if you squint

inspired by how did it end?

to mourn someone who is still with you.

mourning someone who is not just with you. who is next to you, cradling you in the arms. he is silent, a wall of solitude. he is a magnitude of grief joined together by burnt skin and piercings. he is waves of hurt and love with nowhere to go kissing your shoulder. he is a litany of fear and resentment tightening his arms around your waist, holding you against his warm body as you stare at the window of your shitty apartment.

his name is toya todoroki. he was hurt, scarred, vengeful, and already gone. his skin that screamed for salvation proved that. and you loved him.

your eyes stare hesitantly at the window. he holds you silently against his ribs, blue eyes watching you with an unreadable stare. he was taring your world apart from the roots down, and he knew it. he felt it your bones scream against him.

"i wanna burn this city to the ground." you sigh.

and you'd honestly do it. not for you, not for anyone else but him. you'd tear the soil up from the ground, wrath building up explosions from the oceans as the waters flood the ground, drowning the suffering of humanity. you'd set everything in your sight ablaze, watching as everything burns into embers, and then nothing. and in the end you'd salt the earth behind you. nothing would dare sprout on the earth toya todoroki once loved you on.

"i know." he says.

you bring his burnt palm to your face, pressing your lips to the mourning skin. he looks at you, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. "i"m not scared of you, toya." you reassure him. hands that were known for destruction, known for the eruptions of blue flames that ravaged everything in his will. you kissed them. you'd kiss them a million times over. it was funny, how hands built for death held you so good.

he hums, his grip tightening around you. he knows you should be, that you should leave. if not out of fear, than out of hate. hate for who he his, hate for the pain that he has caused and will cause. because toya knew from the moment his marred body stared back at him in the mirror, was that he was going to go down in flames. he was going to destroy his father and everything he had done. he was going to die.

and you knew that. better than anyone.

so there you were. mourning someone who lay next to you, heart still beating, lungs still breathing.

"i'd destroy the whole world for you." you repeat.

toya looks at you, blue eyes staring intently at the way you lay in his embrace. "you're not supposed to, doll. thats my job, you're the good one." he mutters into your skin.

"i'm not as good as you think." you insist, still refusing to face your lover.

a sigh escapes his marred lips. "i know you're not perfect. but..." his fingers trace up and down the curves of your waist. "you're good for me. better."

you scoff.

"whats... whats gonna happen to us?"

you don't know what you feared more. silence, or the answer.

he paused for a moment, his hands wandering down to your thigh. his gave moved away from you as a pensive look came over his face, lips pursing as he thought of an answer. after a long moment of silence, his eyes returned to you, where his gaze belonged.

"do you really wanna know?"

"yeah, i do."

toya held your gaze for a moment, making sure his face stayed unreadable. his hand remained on your thigh, caressing your soft skin.

"this isn't gonna end well, doll. you and me.." he whispers breathlessly.

"i know." you nod solemnly.

"we're not gonna survive this. i'm not. the world... ain't gonna let us."

his actions betrayed his words, pulling you even closer to him. the look on his eyes screamed otherwise. they wanted something else, but his soul knew that his burnt hands were already out of reach.

"i figured." your voice was laced with bitterness. he wanted to protest, but what was there to argue against? he made up his mind.

"what am i to you?" you ask, eyes still gazing the emptiness of the outside world. your world laid right next to you, telling you that he wasn't going to stay.

"you're... everything." he utters, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

you wince. finally turning around. you needed him to see the hurt in your eyes. and you needed to find the hurt in his.

"what... what can i do to convince you? to stay?" your voice cracked when your words reached his ears. toya paused, a part of him wanting to be his usual asshole self- teasing you into making love with your body pressed against him, the physical pleasure making him forget about his troubles for a moment. but the look in your eyes told im to stop.

he lets out the slightest sigh before speaking.

"you can't." his voice was barely above a whisper.

your eyes dropped, staring out the window again. "i figured."

he felt a twinge of guilt erupt in his chest, piercing new burns through his heart. he hated seeing you this way, hated knowing he was the one who caused it.

"i'm not gonna apologize." he muttered quietly, his grip on your chin soft yet firm as he held your face. "i'm not gonna change my mind, either..."

"i didn't expect you to." you answer, tearing his hand off of your face.

toya felt his fingers reflexively tighten before reluctantly letting you remove his hand. a flicker of frustration bloomed across his burning blue eyes. he hated how accepting you were, how understanding you were. both of you felt the tension, both souls aware of the inevitable. his jaw clenched as he thought of his mission, knowing that it would finally cause his father pain, but you bring you down with it. it killed him more than the fire, than the smoke.

"i'm not apart of your plan." you sigh. "you don't have to be here."

toya let out the slightest scoff at your words. his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you. his eyes hardened for a moment before he leaned in closer, whispering: "you think i'd choose to be anywhere else when i could be with you?"

"why do you stay here if you're just gonna die?"

"do i need a reason to stay with you, doll?"

"do you have one?"

both you and toya paused at your last question. his jaw clenched as you pressed his reasoning. he knew he couldn't tell you the truth. the truth that you were the one thing keeping him alive, the one thing that kept made staying seem like a reality. no, he couldn't tell you that. he couldn't give you hope.

"maybe, i just like being with you." he lies with a truth.

you sigh again, defeated as you lay your head on his chest like a soldier collapsing on the battle field. toya let out a low, content breath as his body welcomed you wholeheartedly in his embrace.

"so... i'm just gonna sit here.. and watch you kill yourself over some shitty revenge plan... i'm just gonna sit here and lose you..?"

toya pretends to not notice the way your voice cracks. he feels a wince of guilt at your quiet words, hating the way you suffered because of him. hated the way he could do absolutely nothing about it.

he took a deep breath before he spoke. "i didn't say you had to stay, doll... you're free to leave anytime you want." his words betrayed his feelings. he didn't want you to leave, selfishly. he rubs circles into your back, doing anything to comfort you.

"if i wanted to i would've left by now, idiot." you sigh, voice cracking once more.

he felt a familiar flicker of sadness run through his veins. this wasn't fair to you. not at all. he knew he was hurting you and he hated himself for it, more than anything else did. his grip on you tightened, calloused fingers running over your skin.

"you shouldn't stay." he muttered. "you should hate me. you should walk away and have nothing to do with me." toya tells you the truth and only the truth.

"i know." you whisper, defeated. "i really hate you right now, toya..." you cry, tightening your grip on his arm.

he feels his chest tighten as you cry. he knew he deserved your hatred, but he wished he didn't. his arm wrapped around you tighter, as if you'd disappear if he dare let you go. you had to be the one to let him go.

"i know you do, doll." he utters. "i think i hate myself too."

"good." you seethe, still holding onto him like a safety net.

he heard the anger in your voice, anger he knew all too well. he could feel the way your body trembled, the hurt and frustration locked inside of you evident. he absolutely hated himself for this. his thumb continued to trace patterns onto your back, thinking that maybe it'd take your pain away. "go ahead. scream at me, cry at me, hate me. you can do anything you want. i can take it."

but you don't scream or even yell. you just lay there, almost as lifeless as he was about to be soon. you sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, nothing could possibly console you right now.

"i fucking hate you right now, toya todoroki." you cried into him.

"i know doll, i know." he feels the hurt press against his lungs, and he takes it. he takes all of the darkness that comes from you to him and eats it, swallowing it whole. he knows he deserves it.

you cry and cry, your shaking body cradled into toya's embrace. he held onto you desperately, seeing the pieces of you shattered in his arms tear him apart from the inside out. he could tell by the way your broken hands hold him that you don't want him to go.

"i want you to want me to stay." you choke, messy sobs piercing your words. you hated how he let you go, how he told you you should walk away from him. you wanted the complete opposite- you wished he'd make a god damn fool out of himself, loving you and begging you to stay. but toya knew not to waste his breath.

"its not a matter of wanting you to stay." he utters. "god, i want you to stay... more than anything." he presses his face into the skin of your shoulder, trying to feel you, trying to feel if a part of you still loved him beneath all the hate.

but its not enough for you. "no i want you to tell me to stay! dont tell me i should hate you, or-or that i should leave- i want you to fucking want me to stay! fucking love me! love me like i love you!" you rip a scream from your chest, sitting up from his embrace and staring him straight into his eyes. he needs to know how much he's hurting you.

he winced, feeling his chest clench at your words. "i do love you." his words escape from his lips.

"bullshit." you declare.

you can see on his eyes that he's taken aback by your words. if theres one thing he knew for sure, it was that he loved you. "why won't you believe me?!"

"because you're letting me just watch you fucking die!" you scream.

he stands up, the hurt from your face infecting his own.

"you think i want to die!?" he snarls, an unwanted hint of vulnerability escaping with his words. "i'm not letting you watch anything. i didn't ask you to sit around and wait for me."

he immediately regrets his words.

a look of disgust contorts your face. you stand up, facing away from him fully. your completely speechless. what could you say?

toya felt his heart strings wither as he tried to rectify the situation. "thats not what i meant." he sighs, running a finger through his hair.

you cry on your own, away from toya's prying eyes. he feels his heart clench again, knowing he's the villain here. he places a hand on your shoulder.

"doll." he whispers. "turn around"

you sigh, looking up at the ceiling.

"i can't save you. i can't convince you to stay. yet i can't... leave. i can't get on my feet and leave you. i want to, but... i just can't." you admit your defeat, not bothering to fight back as toya pulls you against him, back into bed.

"i told you you were free to leave, free to walk away and never look back. not like i don't deserve it." he reminds you, pressing a somber kiss to your head.

"i want you to hold me back." you whisper, now facing him with tears pricking your eyes. "i want you to ask me to stay. but.. but you don't."

toya said nothing. he knew you were right, that he wasn't going to ask you to stay. not when he knew it was more than he deserved.

"i hate you." you mutter. toya accepted it, nodding as he gave you a firm squeeze.

"i know you do, doll." he utters.

"no, you don't." you sob. he could never know how much this hurt for you.

"you're the worst." you half heartedly laugh through your tears, tearing a dry chuckle from toya as he agrees with you. he was the worst. the absolute scum of the earth.

"you're an asshole." you trail off. "you're a fucking bastard. and i still love you." you whisper that last part.

"you shouldn't."

"you think i want to?"

he chuckles at that. you were always right.

"after you die, i might end up burning the entire world down after all." you sigh. toya's eyes widen at this.

"you won't." he warns, his voice lower. you scoff.

"you're not in it anymore. so now i can do it." your eyes and voice alike are devoid of any happiness as you speak. and it killed him. good.

"don't say that." toya utters, this sentiment corroding him more than anything else.

"why not?"

"because... you're better than that, doll." he states firmly. you scoff again.

"i'm really not." announce.

"thats not you.. you're not a a killer, you're not cruel. you're good. you're kind. you're... you're everything i'm not." he mutters, declarative in his words as he holds you. it broke him to think you'd throw away everything like that. but then again, he was throwing away everything to.

you sob even harder. "i wanna be like you. i wanna be angry, i wanna destroy everything because of it. god, i wanna hate everyone and hate you. i wanna hate and hate and hate for the rest of my life but i can't." you run out of breath on the cant, hopelessness lingering in your throat as you spoke.

"i know..." toya utters, speechless. he felt a wince of physical pain from his body, his burnt vessel screaming at him to finally end it all.

"i love you, doll. don't you dare forget that." he challenges you, embedding it into your skin with a kiss. he made it sound like a goodbye. it was a goodbye.

"i love you too, asshole." you utter, closing your eyes against the warmth of his chest.

for the first time, ever, toya todoroki felt cold.

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

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

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.9k words

warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions and allusions to mental illness, an elopement but not officially, terms of endearment, Finnick being cheesy af and also having a savior complex, reader also having a savior complex, allusions to death and violence, the reaping, sickeningly sweet but also heart wrenching things, cheesy writing, UNEDITED, no use of y/n, mild language

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Suddenly the day had arrived, technically you'd let yourself bleed into it. How could you rest when this could be the last time you lay in your soft sheets with him? When you'd never seen the sunrise and set over the glittering waters of District 4? You needed to indulge yourself with the smell of the salt air in the early morning, touch the cold kitchen counters and rest your feet on equally freezing hardwood floors. So you stared through the window to the glistening stars which shined above the ocean water letting the sparkle ingrain itself into the depths of your soul.

“Can we stop pretending to be asleep now?" His voice whispered, hot on your ear like the arm lazily laying across your side.

“Yeah." You allowed yourself to softly smile as you sat up. All of the things you wanted to enjoy you equally needed to be done with him. To walk hand and hand around the sandy beaches, for him to mindlessly tie knots as you searched through the rocks during low tide for the tiny creatures that would appear. “Should we fish for our breakfast?” You playfully rose your eyebrows.

"You hate fishing.” Finnick had a toothy grin, you were humoring him, his passions and he loved that about you, but what that really meant made him resent it.

“Yeah." You shrugged, kissing him sweetly before unwrapping yourself from the blankets every so slowly. This might be the last time you could comfortably do that. “Let's get ready." So the two of you did so in each other's comforting silence, a routine that was so natural. He always took longer to get dressed, so you began with the very last part before exiting the room. Making the bed.

Carefully laying each blanket in what Finnick had long ago deemed to be the correct order and you could feel his eyes on you. He was so particular that usually he would do it himself, but he just stood in the closet door frame staring.

“Staring is rude, where have your manners gone?” You teased as you continued diligently preparing the bed for whenever it may provide its comforts again. When he didn't shoot back a reply right away you turned to look at him.

“Hard to remember when you look so ethereal in the moonlight, angel." Finnick approached, lightly grazing your chin with fingertips. “That pillow-" He pointed at the one clad in its silk pillowcase. “Is mine.” With such a playful and bossy look in his eyes you couldn't help but throw it at him.

“Fine, I didn't want it anyways, but this one is mine.” You grabbed the softest one in the bunch from his side of the bed and dragged it over to you.

"You little minx.” He scoffed, grabbing your arms as you held the pillow. You wrapped your arms tightly around it and he pulled you onto the bed trying to pry it from you as you erupted into laughter. "You end up lying on me anyways, it's my poor head that needs to be protected.” You tried to tear yourself from his arms wrestling against the tight grips of your arms, thrashing across the bed. “Messing up the bed now too." He clicked his tongue condescendingly at you, "At least I was already going to have to remake it.”

You gasped and let go of the pillow to lightly hit his shoulder which he used to successfully retrieve it. " You dick!” He laughed and stood.

"Just go sit by the window and look pretty, my love. It's not your fault you can't get it right.” You rolled your eyes lovingly as he helped you up.

"You're right, it's your fault for being so picky about it.” He hummed in agreement and gave a peck to your lips before gesturing towards the window adjacent to the chair.

“Let me admire you more as I do the work, angel.” So you sat as he went through the steps of his bed making routine. He did it all with a care that cut into your heart. Tenderly observing the precision he had for each act, it was as if he needed the bed to be such a haven to lay in that no imperfection could taint it. “We should get married." Finnick said abruptly after laying the final pillow down.

You were stunned into a stupor, staring back at him as the glow of the moon glittered on the bronze of his skin. “What?"

“Let's go get married." He knelt down in front of you hands on your knees

A shocked laugh left your lips, “Finnick, that's not how that works."

He grinned, “I don't care." His eyes felt like they were etching themselves into your heart. “We don't need some paper to tell the world, let it just be us, and the sand, and the waves, and the mist. And when this is all over we can go do it officially with the big white wedding or whatever else you could want, but right now let's just be one. Have the ocean bind our souls, angel. I wanna be yours forever.”

Desperation, that's what it was. He wanted to be yours so he could know that if he died the sea could tell the tales of your great love, the tides would echo your sweet nothings. But you couldn't find it in you to care about the deeper motivations, it could help heal his soul, help heal yours so you nodded softly and pressed your lips to his.

“Okay." His smile was as bright as the sunlight and picked you up in his arms. You could have fallen asleep in the warmth of his arms as he diligently carried you to the waters near your home. Passionately kissing you as he laid your bare feet on the wet sand. He looked at you expectantly, for what you couldn't tell so you teased him. “What? I know you're impatient, but don't I at least get a ring?"

You stepped away closer to the waters as you scanned the rocks. Each starfish and sea anemone, you'd miss the bliss they brought whenever you were out early enough.

“Here." You nearly jumped when he reached beside you to pick up a piece of washed up seaweed. “You deserve more, when this is over I'll get you the most gorgeous ring to show everyone what you mean to me."

“This is good enough for me, Finnick. I'm happy with this." You tore some of the seaweed off to fashion one for him as well, you envied how delicately his hands worked to make yours.

“You're happy that it's just past twilight and I've carried you to the beach so we can bind our souls together without even bothering to get a marriage license on the day of the reaping? And I couldn't even bother to bring a real ring?" He teased.

"I'm happy to be with you, to love you when it comes down to it, the other stuff doesn't really matter.” You grinned, “Let's just get married."

"I promise that for all of eternity, past when the sun last rises and when it lasts sets. Far beyond where the last star may shed its light on us or the time when the last leaf falls. With no regard for what is to come that I will be one with you. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so that not even death will part our bond and my love.” He delicately slipped the seaweed ring on your freezing finger, kissing your hand as he parted from your fingers.

“I promise that for every drop of water in the ocean, each grain of sand in the earth, each gust of wind, my love will increase boundlessly for you. That we will be one with each other when all thrives through its decay. No tribulation shall part my heart from beating with yours, my tears from falling with yours, nor my lips from syncing with yours. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so not even the hands of death will crack the strength of us as one, as we are one from dawn to dusk.” The breeze and mist blessing you with its droplets made you feel so light as you lay your ring on his finger as well.

You didn't question Finnick as he began to weave the remainder of the seaweed around your connected arms.

“May we be connected through the lakes, the sea, the rivers, the springs, the cricks, the ponds, the mist, and the fog with each creature within to let us be one in the world, what you feel, so shall I, what we need the other will provide, and let our devotion be smiled upon."

He kissed you, his honey sweet lips tinged with the salt of the ocean air and you consumed each other in every sense.

"I love you Finnick, so much so I'll refrain from telling people how sentimental you are."

“Only for you, Mrs. Odair." He kissed you again.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You'd obtained so many hours through the lost sleep to spend forgetting about what the day would inevitably do that the both of you could lose yourselves in being unbearably in love with one another. Neverending promises for the future, cuddling on the couch, dancing in the sand to fill the hours until the elephant in the room had to be acknowledged.

The two of you had wound down to the cushions of your couch to hold one another. The talking had ceased so you could simply listen to his breathing, his soothing heartbeat. Oh, if you could do this forever, to never move.

“We have to leave soon." The croaky way the sentence left your throat instantly wanted to send you into a frenzy of tears.

“What if we don't?" He asks, stroking your cheek.

“They'll kill us."

“They're already doing that."

No, technically if neither of you were picked you could both go home in peace, but as the time between the announcement and now had begun, whispers of rebellion and some type of plan had strengthened. Something Finnick wouldn't give up in fighting for even if he had to volunteer and you wouldn't be left here without him. Even if you did, that meant some other friend would have to go die in your place which would be a death within itself.

You reluctantly sat up and had no trust in your voices stability to repeat the need to go, maybe a death here would be better.

“Angel, you know my plan. I know you're unhappy with it-"

“I'm not unhappy with it, I understand you want to help because you are so caring and kind-"

“You're not selfish for being unhappy with me going back, your feelings aren't selfish." His hands cradled your face, “And that's not what I was saying. I just, please, tell me what you plan to do."

You sighed, “I don't know Finnick. I have no idea."

“Then stay, Mags will volunteer if it's your name and don't volunteer for anyone else. If I win then I can come back to you and we can really be married, legally as well as with the planet." He said eagerly, searching your eyes for affirmation.

"Your plans don't end with one victor coming home, so I can't say that. I want you to come home to me, but I want to be with you through it all, to fight your fights, to stand where you stand, not be left behind. But I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

He exhaled harshly through his nose, “You're going to stay here for me." Finnick stood up and grabbed you both pairs of shoes taking no further comment, but no matter what he insisted you'd swore to nothing of the sort.

Quietly the two of you walked towards the square of District 4, your head laying on the comfort of his shoulder. Each of your arms tucked within the others and rings keeping you both grounded within each other when you eventually had to part to different sides of the stage.

“I love you."

“Don't say that in a tone like you'll never see me again."

“I might not for a while, unless you go as a mentor."

“You don't get to make either of those decisions." You felt like you were being forced to tear him from what he assumed would happen to remind him of your own will and it broke your heart when you saw fear flash in the depths of his sea-green eyes.

“Angel-"

“I love you, Finnick." Your voice was filled with conviction as you kissed him with fervor before walking the opposite direction, trying not to look back as what you were sure was his worried, loving, angry face. Why couldn't you just be the girl who waited for him to come back? Why did you need to fight with him? But your soul begged you to do it, so you listened to the call.

Soon enough your breath was hitched even if you knew Finnick would force the same outcome to happen no matter which name was called from the male tributes. As if you needed any more surprises this year your escort had decided to swap up the gendered order of pulling the names. Proclaiming how entertaining Quarter Quells should be in every aspect. Which was probably the least entertaining thing you'd ever heard.

“Finnick Odair." The sickly sweet voice rang out in the microphone and your heart dropped even if you'd been prepared for him to get himself in the games regardless. Your throat felt tight and your fingernails dug into your palms as he smiled for the cameras watching intently.

“And now, for the girls. All such entertaining victors!” She beamed for the viewers, it disgusted you how happy she was for this.

You could feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your head as the tapping of her heels walked to the bowl of four paper slips. Your eyes gazed over the women besides you. Mags in her solemn sereneness, she deserved to pass surrounded by those she loved in her home, and then poor, shaking Annie who wasn't as good at hiding what you pushed down, the girl labeled as going ‘crazy’ by the Capitol, and Ondine who seemed like she had clocked out of her own brain. She stared forward so numbly it appeared as if she'd resigned herself to her death, an image that would haunt you every hour if she did die.

“Annie Cresta."

Your head looked at her instantly, she'd let out a quick sob as she began walking forward. Each step is unsteady and slow. You shot your head towards Finnick, you shook his head, eyes screaming at you to do nothing. To try to mentor but do nothing more. But Annie’s sniffles brought you back to her, she deserved so much more, you were certain her psyche would break before she'd even reached the interviews. As she stepped to pass by you you couldn't hold the adrenaline in your body back.

“I volunteer as tribute!" You shouted shakily, stepping in front of her to stop her from going further.

“No-" You heard Finnick accidentally slip as he looked at you so despairingly, but it didn't undo what you'd said which you felt more confident in as Annie began crying. “It's okay, I'm not gonna make you do that." You whispered to her and hugged her shaking frame as you felt your own silent tears escaping, trying to guide her back to the comfort of the other women.

“You didn't have to-"

“It's okay." You assured the best you could. Ondine, who you'd rarely spoken with looked at you and nodded, as if that said everything she thought, and it did. Suddenly it was as if the regrets you may have had were gone, this wasn't just about you and Finnick, there was so much more on the line and you couldn't have stayed home to watch anyone else suffer.

The consciousness that you were on camera hit you so you let go of Annie and turned back towards where Finnick stood, damning your heart for caring, for not listening. He tried to keep us appearances for the cameras, but the looks of rage, woe, and despair were evident if one simply looked into the depths of his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched ever so slightly.

“District 4’s tributes for the third Quarter Quell!" The screeching voice announced and you wrapped your hand into the stiffness of Finnick's and dragged them above your heads. Letting your makeshift rings sit front and center would be sure to draw the attention of the Capitol citizens deeply invested in this all. Allowing the tears to bubble at your eyelids, it was already part of the brand you'd created years ago. Finnick’s nose flared as he forced his smile and without goodbyes you were led off the stage towards the train.

You could feel the intensity of his rage radiating off of his aura, not the calming warmth he usually possessed, but you knew you wouldn't take back your actions regardless of who'd been chosen. So you resigned yourself to the harshness that lay behind the train's metal doors.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. there is so much more I have planned for this series and I'm so excited to share it with y'all. if you liked it, feedback is much appreciated, likes, comments, reblogs any of it I'm so, so grateful for. as always, my inbox is open for any and all things or ideas! thank you again so much!

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore

[akirathedramaqueen]

No rest for the wicked

What often keeps my mind occupied and worried for the last couple of... weeks, or even months, maybe, is what might happen to Stolas's relationship with Octavia in the near future.

We know something bad is brewing. The trailer gave us enough information to freak out but learn nothing from it. I think though that I have found yet another foreshadowing, and I am sad I did. I was not sure if I should post it since predictions and speculations are not quite my style, but fuck it, I’ll roll with it. I want you to suffer with me <3 Besides, after yesterday's @tealvenetianmask's wonderful post about Stella and how society enables her behavior, and my rambly reblog, which delves more into Stolas's relationships with Octavia and how they are affected, I decided I need to let it out of my system.

So, you see... while I believe this screenshot is our last hope for us, the Stolitz nation—that these two dumbasses will have ANOTHER chance to talk properly...

It implies that something arguably worse than their breakup is going to happen. Something on the 'whole palace is in ice and Stolas is in immediate mortal danger' level of 'worse.' Something bad enough to make them forget all the shit they’ve gone through with their disastrous miscommunication and unite to face a common threat.

Andrealphus.

Something that would make Stolas to leave quickly and forcibly. Run for his life. Disappear, sweeping off his trail, without Octavia knowing...

And let her think he ran off with Blitzø.

Are you gonna run off with him and leave me behind? Go away, where I can't find you?

Make her run around the palace looking for him and not being able to find him. Because he isn’t there.

Daddy! Daddy... I had a dream! A really bad dream! I was looking all over the palace, and I couldn't find you anywhere! You weren't there!

And the worst part is that it would make her assume the worst: that he left her behind just for a weird red dickhead.

Why?

Because Stolas's relationship with Blitzø has caused a rift between the prince and his daughter.

Because he, unfortunately, has never told her what kind of mother Stella is, or what she has done to him. She is left to believe everything was okay until that imp came around, seduced her father, ruined her family, and wrecked her home.

Because Stolas grew distant and forgot about the important stellar event he promised to show her. Was he wrong for it? Of course not! Stella made everything to throw him off the rails completely that morning. But Octavia still has the right to be upset.

Not to mention that she’s nowhere to be found since that night in Los Angeles… Why isn’t she around? Is she resentful toward him? Is she being kept from him? Or is he keeping her at arm's length because of the assassination attempt and his deteriorating state of mind? What happened?

I can already see how Stella and Andrealphus could use all of it against Stolas, grooming Octavia and simmering her in hatred for him. Bluntly lying about true reasons Stolas fled.

Stolas kept silent about the abuse he survived, hoping to protect Octavia and let her live a perfect childhood. But instead, she won’t have a single soul to support her, since Stolas will be chased off and hated. By her. Surrounded by vultures who now prey on her, who have couped her father and forced him to break the solemn, earnest promise he made to her.

What?... No! No, no, never! I'd never do that. Never...

How fucking tragic is that?

[castiwls]

Hey there! 😀 Can I request two sets of headcanons about being Sam and Dean's twin sister?

"i was with you before we were even born"

Being the boy's twin

Dean

He’s older by like 5 minutes (he never lets you forget it)

You were both really close even as babies. I imagine there was a phase where if your parents separated you both for too long you would cry.

You both get closer after the fire. For the first few months, you would always curl up in the same bed together out of fear of the other one disappearing.

As a teen, you started to question your dad more and more about hunting. You're not as complacent as Dean is to John and his rules. This led to many arguments. 

“Why can’t you just do as he says?” “Because Dad’s word isn't god Dean!”

He’d be just as protective over you as he is of Sam.

When Sam left for Stanford you and Dean started to take cases on your own.

You would try and sabotage any hookups he found in bars. You really hated having to go for ‘walks’ during said hookups. He got you back for it. 

You both look very alike. 

When it was just you and Dean hunting there were multiple times where people would mistake you for a couple of cases.

After your dad died you and Dean didn’t talk for a while. You both argued over why John did what he did and it led to one of your worst fights.

Bobby had to kick sense into you both.

You and Dean don’t fight often but when you do it's bad. When you were younger one time it got so bad that it took Sam yelling and walking out for you both to stop.

When Castiel came around you were unsure but after he saved you on a hunt you began to trust him.

Knowing Dean wasn’t ok after Hell and begging him to talk.

“Dean I know you're not ok.” You frowned and reached out to his arm. “You can talk to me, no one's gonna judge you.”

He did eventually tell you he remembered hell. He begged you not to tell Sam though. (You did tell Sam though)

Finding out about the whole vessel thing and freaking out.

“What do you mean vessels? Why is Heaven and Hell’s fight our issue?”

Since you and Dean were twins you both were classed as Micheal vessels.

You were adamant that Dean wasn’t doing it and he was the same about you.

This again led to another argument.

In the end, there was no way you were letting Sam walk into that fight alone so you ended up saying yes also.

Dean was pissed.

Dean begging for months after that Cas or someone would pull you both out of the cage. (Little did he know someone had)

You randomly appeared on Lisa’s doorstep 6 months later and Dean completely freaked.

After that, he barely let you out of his sight.

You didn’t tell him about Sam also being out (You knew something was wrong with your younger brother and you didn’t wanna worry Dean.)

Eventually reuniting with Sam and feeling so guilty when you found out he had no soul.

Dean insisted that it wasn’t your fault.

He helped you with nightmares from the cage. You found yourself sleeping in the same bed as him again.

Sam

You were older by like 10 minutes. You always teased him about it.

He got you back by teasing you over being short.

Neither of you have any memories of life before the fire so as children you used to both make up stories to help comfort each other.

These stories helped you both pretend that you at least knew your mom and what normal life was like.

You both kinda depended on each other growing up.

While you didn’t verbalise it like Sam, you also didn’t like hunting or the constant moving around.

You were a bit more of a social butterfly than your twin but you still struggled with having to make new friends constantly. 

Like your brother, you were also quite smart and did well in school.

For a while, you wanted to be a doctor but knew realistically you had no chance.

As you got older you began to grow a slight resentment towards your dad for forcing you all into this life. One day after a bad hunt you snapped and told your dad how you felt. New’s flash it went really bad.

Your eyes widened as you realised what you had just said. Dean slowly pushed his arm in front of you urging you to move back as your Dad turned to face you. “What did you just say.” Your dad’s voice was hard as he took a step forward. You felt Sam pull you back further as Dean tried to defuse the situation.

After that things were awkward for a while. You went to go stay with Bobby much to Sam’s disdain.

You came back a year later when you were 17.

Things were ok until Sam left for Stanford. You were happy for him but also jealous that he was getting out and you weren't.

During that time you and Dean became close.

Reconnecting with Sam after your dad went missing and helping him when Jess died.

Feeling guilty when your dad died that you spent so much time resenting him (He apologised just before Azael came)

Unlike your brother, Azael didn’t do anything to you so you never had any issues with demon blood.

Convincing Sam that he wasn’t a monster. 

When he died the first time you were inconsolable for days. 

You and Dean arguing over Deans's deal.

Hating Ruby and knowing she was up to something. Her also causing you and Sam to fall out over his powers.

You and Dean both knew that while Sam was trying to do a good thing she was not.

Helping him with his guilt over Litlth and Lucifer.

Him and you making up after Rubys' death. This actually made you and Sam closer than ever.

Again having to convince him that he is not a bad person when the whole Lucifer and Micheal thing comes to light.

You’re the middleman in the situation. You spent most of your time trying to convince both your brothers not to say yes.

Convincing Dean but not managing to convince your twin.

Before saying yes Sam said that he wanted you to get out and have a normal life.

You were pretty heartbroken but after hanging around Dean and Lisa for a few months you ended up meeting someone  (Lisa set you up but you don’t know that)

You both moved in together and you found yourself actually enjoying this normal life.

Then Sam appeared and you had to choose. Dean told you to stay but you knew you couldn’t leave Sam.

When you found out about Sam having no soul you felt so guilty.

“How didn't I realise sooner?” You sat down on the bed placing your head in your hands. Dean gently rubbed your back with a small sigh. “None of us knew. It’s not your fault.

You ended up kinda living two lives for the next year until Sam got his soul back and you realised living two lives was too dangerous. You broke up with him but you both ended up getting back together a few years later.

Sam was happy that you'd found someone and pushed for you to stay with him. But you knew your place was always gonna be with your brothers.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Enemy

Summary-> he was supposed to be your enemy after everything that he had done, but neither of you could stay away. You needed an escape (1k)

Warnings-> 18+ minors dni, smut, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, no foreplay, little bit of biting, fuck buddies, swearing, degradation

rafe cameron works other obx works main masterlist

He was a bad influence and you knew that, your friends hated kooks, resented them for the violence that surged through their expensive veins, and you were supposed to as well. If they knew what you were doing with the worst kook of them all, you’d no doubt be disregarded as a pogue, it would be a crime in their eyes, but you were addicted, Rafe was like a drug that you couldn’t quite relinquish.

Your body was atop of his, a purity that he was tainting as he his murderous hands squeezed your ass, your tongues entangled in a hungry mess. He had stepped foot on the Cut just so that he could see you in your shabby home, and find his own escape from the mental torment that riddled his puzzled brain. A part of you had pity for the boy, his father had dragged him in every direction of the map to greed, he was confused and lost, but you cared more about the things he could do to you in the second hand sheets of your bed.

“I need you, now.” Rafe huffed, and you were always one to obey his orders, if you didn’t, you knew that he was more than capable with frightening you, there was a power within him that caused your heart to stutter and a heat to grow between the apex of your thighs. He was a monster, in the flesh of a man, and he had coiled your actions to perform to his every command, as a kook he always got what he wanted.

Without hesitation you lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your halter neck bikini, his eyes dancing over the exposed flesh before he flipped you to be laying on your back atop of the mattress in your home, his shadow towering over you, reminding you that everything that you did with him was a lustrous sin.

His hands fought with his branded belt, flinging the strip of overpriced leather to the ground, as he unbuttoned his jeans and rutted his aroused length beneath your small skirt. If you had any sanity you would run from him, but all had been lost for your hunt for gold, and if one good thing could come from your promising loss of fleeting metal, it would be a good fuck, even if it was from your opposed enemy.

“Thought you needed me Cameron, so hurry up.” You retorted at the frustrated male, causing his eyes to stab you, repeatedly, all over your body. He leant down, swimming his tongue around your neck before his teeth took charge and sunk into your flesh, sucking a bruise that you would have to conceal in the morning. His action caused a squeal to run from your mouth, he was a bad man, but his talents and punishments reserved for you made you see some clouded good in him.

“Shut the fuck up pogue.” He spat at you, raising your legs as he tore your panties from around your waist, discarding the ruined fabric god knows where. Your pulse was rushing, the danger that his exterior evoked excited you to some degree, perhaps you were stupid to allow him to fall between your legs or maybe it was a smart choice, but it didn’t really matter, you always got what you wanted from him and vice versa.

Rafe waited no longer before he grasped his cock, running it against your soaked cunt, before pushing it in, giving you no time to adjust. It hurt a little, but it always did with him, he wasn’t a gentle soul, he was eternally damaged and you’d accepted that nobody, not even you could change him. “You’re such a fucking whore, letting me fuck you whenever I want. Maybe one day you’d make a good wife, leaving this all this poor shit behind just because you want my dick.”

The idea had your head spinning, although realistically it would never happen, it was a toxic daydream that defied all of your morals of who you were and your loyalties, however the thought of being all dolled up for him, and committing to be his personal fuck toy had some appeal deep down. Rafe thrusted harshly into you, you were inclined to wince, a few tears splattering your cheeks as you allowed him to do whatever he wanted.

He increased his pace, his hand that wasn’t supporting his weight reaching up and tugging at your bikini top, exposing your breasts to his view, and he ducked his head down, marking you for everyone to see. It revolted you that he could make you his without having to utter a word of emotion, he made you weak, and it was easy for him to make you crumble. “Rafe.” A grunt vibrated from his chest as you moaned his name, your hands applying pressure on his shoulders as your eyes squeezed shut, indulging in a fatal pleasure that you could never surrender.

“Look at me, and keep your eyes open.” He commanded as expected, you complied, no matter how difficult the deed was. Your lashes fluttered as you struggled with keeping your lids open, watching him above you, sweat glistening upon his skin in an ungodly manner. You were getting close and Rafe could tell, and so he kept his strokes going, until he felt you clenching around him, gripping his cock as though you were his personal vice. “Gonna cum in you, you want that?”

There was nothing that you desired more, and so you nodded exasperatedly, consenting to him spilling his warmth within you. It didn’t take long until he did, coating your walls with his seed, that crept out of your pussy when he pulled out, staining the sheets beneath you. Rafe flopped beside you, laying on his back as he stared at the dingy ceiling. He said nothing as he breathed heavily, recovering from the sparks of his orgasm. He never said anything afterwards, and you were fine with that, because he would always come back.

[igotanidea]

Laugh: Jason Todd x fem!reader

requested by @thefandomdiaries07 - I AM SO SORRY!!

“Oh my god!” Y/N started laughing at another Bad dad joke Dick Just Said. Honestly, she wasn’t sure whether it made her giggle like a silly teenager because it was so stupid or because Dick was ginning and being so full of himself. 

“That’s a good one right?”

“No....!” she gasped wiping the tears away, smudging her mascara in the process. “It was terrible. Terrible, Grayson! I swear every time I believe you reached the bottom of the groaner well, you surprise me with another one!”

“Now that’s hurtful!” Dick grabbed his heart, pretending to be deeply cut by those words. “Your words are like knife to my soul!”

“Please stop watching soap operas….” She laughed even more at his choice of words.

“Hm.” Dick smirked. The position he was in allowed him to see behind Y/N’s shoulder and notice something she could not.

Once her laugh reverberated through the room in the Manor, Jason, who was just casually passing by, with his signature face expression being the mix of broody and smug, stopped in his tracks. To give it justice, he looked like he was just struck by the lighting by the sound. Rooted to the ground. Frozen. Transfixed. Taken into another dimension. Whatever words might come to person’s brain – he was just that. With his eyes almost turning into hearts he looked like a love sick puppy. Just because he heard her chuckling at something.

“Hey Jaybrid!” Dick called to his younger brother, unable to stop himself from a little bit of teasing. Todd might have been lying about how he felt for Y/N, denying the obvious, but his actions were pretty self-explanatory. Especially in the family of self-appointed detectives, trained to read into every detail and gesture. “You look surprisingly non-threatening.”

“Shut up Dickhead.” His face expression turned back to resentful, the slightest blush showing on his cheeks due to being called out like this. He was a grown ass man acting like a boy who saw a girl’s bra for the first time.

“What’s with the attitude, little bird? Someone step on your toe?”

“Shut up!”

“Oh come on, cheer up! How about I give you a joke to relieve the tension?”

“Oh, no!” Y/N cried out in despair, turning to face Jason “Jace! Save me! Dick won’t let me go until I die from the embarrassment from his jokes! Please, don’t let me suffer alone!”

Once she looked at him with those pretty, pretty, shining, smiling e/c eyes he was gone. Like gone. How could he possibly tell no to her? How could he…..

“Not in the mood…” he muttered, looking down, terrified to death to meet her gaze.

“Come on Jay! Pretty please? We’re friends. It’s kind of I’m in shit you’re in shit situation. You can’t run from it.”

“I hate you.” He hissed crossing his arms

“I give you a chance to realize that you hate Dick’s sense of humor more than you hate me. So? what’s it gonna be?”

Yeah, he couldn’t tell her no.

***

“Did you get home safe?” Dick texted a few hours later, once Y/N left the manor and got into her apartment.

“You could have given me a ride with that fancy porche of yours, so you wouldn’t have to ask after.”

“I was kind of hoping Jason will pick you on a bike and give you a romantic trip, but seemingly we can’t always have what we want.”

“Jason?” if they were talking not texting she would raise an eyebrow at the moment

“Sure? My younger brother? Do you remember Jason?”

“Fuck you Dick. Stop playing around. We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Y/N for crying out loud. I saw that boy almost snap his neck because he heard your laugh and wanted to see why you were laughing.”

What?!

“but yes, keep telling yourself you’re friends.”

What the hell?!

She lost her patience in an instant and dialed Dick’s number.

“Y/N.”

“What the hell was that Dick?!”

“I believe it’s something you call telling the truth”

“I believe it’s acting like a freaking gossip girl!”

“It’s not a gossip!

“stop playing with me!”

“Am not! Did I ever lie to you?” he trailed and for a moment there was silence in the phone as they both were thinking about the years of keeping a little secret of his vigilante persona. “It’s true. I swear. “

“so why tell me now?”

“Cause I am seriously scared of what injuries Jay maysustain if someone doesn’t speak up. Last week Steph did as much as mentioned your name and he fall off the stairs.”

“You’ll never let him live it down, will you?”

“Not a chance!” Dick laughed “but hey, we both know you have a crush on him too so…”

“This reverse psychology is not going to work on  me Grayson. No circus for tricks.”

“Please don’t tell me you tease him absolutely absentmindedly…..”

“Tease? Dick this is just who I am. I play and twist words with everyone. I do that all the time with you.”

“can you at least talk to him about it?”

“wouldn’t that make it a bit awkward?”

“sure. And I’ll be right by the corner with the camera to video it.”

“I swear to god you’re the definition of an older brother.”

***

For three days Y/N was trying her best to avoid the conversation. No matter what Dick said, Jason was her friend and taking their relationship to another level was…. Hard. Honestly, Y/N wasn’t even sure how she herself felt about it. Did she like Jason as more than friend?

Yes,

no,

maybe?

How do you even recognize the moment when you stop thinking of someone as a buddy and move to I want to be more stage?

Sure, there’s physical attraction but that is not necessarily the sign of deeper feelings.

Just cause you feel you want to kiss someone doesn’t mean you love him.

So how did she feel?

She was postponing even thinking about it, but there’s no escaping when you serve as an emotional support and voice of reason for the whole family of vigilante seeing them *him* on a day to day basis.

So yes, Y/N was pretty much conflicted and feeling like a silly teenager, even though her metrics was showing quite a different age number.

And she was sad.

And that was something Jason could not stand.

“did you switch the position of your bed lately ?” he asked her after a few days of her being shy, withdrawn and silent. Obviously he did it in-character with the teasing tone and that freaking edgelord attitude.

“What?” she raised her gaze from the bat computer, frowning in confusion “there’s still no place for you to crush at my place one way or another.”

“Oh, please…” he rolled his eyes, plumping onto the seat next to her “as if that was what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?”

“You seemed like you’ve been getting off on the wrong foot, hence the question. I thought you were smarter than that and will get the reference.”

“Haha… very funny Todd.”

“I’m serious though.”

“You are never serious.”

“I miss your laugh…..” he babbled without thinking and his eyes grew wide at the words. “oh, fuck…I mean… you have terrible laugh. Terrible. And I miss laughing at your laugh. That’s what I meant to say.”

“I swear you’re the only person I know who can both offend and complement someone in one sentence.” She scoffed, turning back to computer away from him 

“Yeah, kind of my signature.”

“You’re a terrible person Jason Todd and I hate you. God I swear you’re so annoying. I can’t believe Dick was thinking you likelike me….” She babbled and this time it was her turn to blush because of saying too much. “oh, shit….I mean… Dick is delusional obviously and I’m pretty sure he was drunk while using the word.”

“Grayson told you I liked you?” Jason smirked.

“Yeah…. Funny, right?” she chuckles awkwardly

“Extremely funny.” Jason looked down avoiding meeting her eyes.

“Haha ….” She muttered.

And then, once they mocked Dick and the whole situation to the most possible extend and there was nothing more to say the silence fell between them. At first it was normal since they were both lost in their heads but after a while it started getting uncomfortable. Even the air in the batcave became heavier and it was becoming hard to breathe.

“Y/N…..” he looked at her

“Jace…..” she looked at him

And when their gazes met they were gone.

Acting on impulse they both moved forward, meeting halfway when their lips connected.

It was not like they write it in the books or how you see it in the movies or not even how you imagine kissing someone you like.

It was their first kiss together and yet, there were no sparks, no electricity, no butterflies in the stomach.

No.

Nothing so obvious and, well, spectacular.

And yet, there was something more to this display of affection.

The deep sense of doing something right.

Something pure and perfect.

Feeling of finally belonging somewhere.

With someone.

The inner peace.

It was….natural, but it didn’t take away the wonderfulness of being in the bubble together with that person.

Getting out all those emotions they were trying to hide.

And at this moment Y/N knew she was fooling herself. She did like him more than friends.

“Y/N…..?” he pulled back after a second, both pair of eyes closed, foreheads connected.

“Hmmmm?”

“I like you.”

“Yeah, I kind of notice……”

“Y/N……?”

“Yes, I like you too.”

“So what do I have to do to make you laugh again?”

She pulls back, opening her eyes and smirking teasingly.

“You can just be yourself. I swear sooner or later you will do something silly or stupid enough to make me laugh. At you…..”

“I think you and I have very different definitions of liking someone.”

“Maybe….but if there’s anyone I want to work towards creating joint meaning…. It’s you , Todd.”

“Oh….” He cooed “don’t give me diabetes with all that sweetness.”

“enjoy it while it last, Todd…..” she laughs and hearing that sound after a few weeks of silence he couldn’t help but grin widely.

Like a man in love.

Who he was.