#you WOULD be the type to steal a skull

[flower-biter]

valentine 🌹

[vanderilnde]

Unhinged battlefield surgeon reader and the extended metaphor of surgery as the most intimate form of love (with medical inaccuracies).

ghost/reader

-

Ghost got shot and his shredded kevlar had swallowed most of the shrapnel.

Though one bullet, thankfully, ate a way through and wedged itself in his abdomen.

He’s the only member of the task force you haven’t operated on. Always a little too tactically inclined and apt for your liking. Never with any grave injuries—just a ruddy bullet graze or a broken femur—neither of which you could get your hands on. 

Surgery was the only way he would ever notice you. When Soap was in post-op, gauzed and inebriated on painkillers, Ghost reverently nodded at you in thanks. When Gaz got shot and you coordinated a walking blood bank, gingerly asking Ghost if his blood type was a match. It wasn’t, but you already knew that, because his personnel file was a parsed-over sheet branded into your brain—but he leaned down, the fleece of his balaclava grazing the husk of your ear, and asked you to repeat your question. 

“Type one SGW,” someone says. A less-experienced medic, your subordinate, his first time downrange. Ashy and blanched in the face as he straps Ghost to a stretcher. “Signs of peritonitis are present.”

You’re already wearing your gloves, splitting a hand on Ghost’s chest. His breaths are irregular and short-winded under your palm, turbulent, like a second heartbeat.

You take a moment to grasp the papery flutter of his eyelashes against his mottled skin. It’s lace-like and scythe-like, disappearing under the crude shell of his macabre mask. And upon your excited fingers catching on the hem of his balaclava, the baby-faced medic stops you with a hand bent around your wrist.

“His face,” he slips an eighteen-gauge needle into Ghost’s bulging forearm. “That's not confidential?” 

Irritation threatens to supersede your anticipation. You shrug his hand off of you, snarling, “I need to BVM him. Would you rather he die?”

The medic’s eyes widen. He sputters out apologies, mousy, and shuffles back. Busies himself with something else within the babel of organised chaos and medevac. 

The pads of your fingers idle under the lip of Ghost’s balaclava. Slowly, you peel off his mask and feel your soul get eclipsed. He steals your breath, flips your world, and drenches you in ice-cold water. He’s beautiful in a way so specifically masculine. His face striated with lesions and gossamer-like scars, one running through his mouth and hefting up his upper lip, travelling towards his cropped hairline. Disappearing into his awkward cowlick.

Ghost’s hair is trimmed to his skull. There’s slivers of skin peeking through nicks and notches as a result of shaving himself over a ceramic sink. His breath struggles past his thin lips, puckering them. His eyes oscillate under his eyelids, his crows feet leathery and creased. 

“Doctor,” another medic says, calling for your attention. “How should we proceed?”

You place an ambu bag on Ghost’s face. Your fingers on his dimpled jawbone, your other hand pumping air into his lungs. It’s electric. You’re giving him life, you’re his God, you’re swelling his lungs like a second-hand kiss too taboo to be direct. “Any exit wounds?”

Ghost gets turned onto his side and has his shirt torn through. You subsist on the heat that pools under your cheeks, sticking your thighs together. His blood congeals into the spindly hairs of his chest, thickening as it disappears below his pants. The other surgeons flit their eyes over the sinews of his back, answering, “No.” 

It shouldn’t excite you. Really, it shouldn’t. But the thought of being inside Ghost—of coalescing with him, of being closer to him than anyone ever before—it excites you. For once, you’re not invisible to Ghost. For once, he’s at your mercy. On your table and bleeding out. In need of your deft hands, in need of your attention. 

“I’m doing a laparotomy.”

“But–”

“That wasn’t a question.”

A scalpel is quickly dropped in your hand. You use it to dig a divot in Ghost’s skin, slicing a transverse incision that opens him up and spills him onto your hands. You cut through his cutis and off-white subcutis, slicing his abdomen wall, the fibrous sheet of tissue. Blood leaks out of him how rain dribbles down a window. Pearlescent and beady. 

“Gimme suction,” you mumble. “And keep it out of my way. I’m removing the bullet.” 

Off the fringes of your vision, the other surgeons exchange wary glances. Any protests they have rot on their tongue, stuck under the boot of their chief resident. A tinny, thin sound peals out in the heli, the clang of you throwing your scalpel into the kidney dish. 

Gently, as if you’re holding glass, you slip your fingers into Ghost and slowly spread him open. It’s intoxicating. As if you’re splitting a mango open with your thumbs, the blood of it sluicing down your arms. Sweet and sticky. There’s a grotesque sound emanating from it—like when boots press in on a muddy ground. Ghost is all slippery and rubbery as your fingers search for a hot, eroded bullet. 

“Any luck, Doctor?” 

Your hands catch on gilded metal. You grasp it and pull yourself out, toss it in the kidney dish. You’re handed another instrument and start slice-wise swishes, closing him up. Sewing him back together like your own doll. His chest shudders under your fingers, rattling like wind-chimes. Your sutures are deep-seated and tight, strung out, because you don’t want to stop touching him. Because if you stop, he might unfurl again. Fall all over the place. Over the floor and over your pants and you can’t have that happen—you need Ghost full, thanking you properly for your work when he wakes up. 

You’re finished, rubbing your ichor-stained gloves together. You still feel the phantom layer of your hands under Ghost’s skin.

It’s so intimate—holding him and piecing him back together. Carefully, attentively, lovingly.

[ghouljams]

This is something that Goose would definitely get for Simon when she starts to realize his hat has a lot of wear and tear and just wants to spoil him because he never does anything for himself lol

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR3vXyKE/

Simon's hat isn't anything special, simple black, it's the first one he saw when he was looking. Price gives him a straw hat when the summer gets too hot, but otherwise Simon isn't the type to spend money on anything fancy. He's used to using things until they fall apart, and that's just fine by him. You're of a similar mind, your own chocolate brown stetson decorated with ferrier brands and braided cording, worn but well taken care of. He'd asked you once how long you'd had it and you'd hand waved a few years.

Simon doesn't know why your hat still looks like new when his, well, doesn't. He's spent the last few mornings fussing with the brim and the lining, making sure the damn hat actually holds its shape. His hat goes missing, he takes yours and grumbles to Price about you getting too comfortable stealing. You settle his hat on his head when you come home in the evening. It smells different. He raises a hand to pull it off and stops at the feel of the crown.

The crease and dents feel different, the felt too now that he rhinks about it. He tugs it off to inspect. The black is deeper, the felt higher quality, and most importantly there's a skull expertly molded and shaped into the crown. He glances at you, raises a brow questioningly. You shrug.

"Your hat's fallin' apart," you explain, Simon looks back at the hat, he knows, "I thought you'd like something a little... I don't know, nice."

He rubs his thumb over the brim, feeling the material. It is nice, doesn't make his teeth hurt or his skin itch to feel it. The crown too, Simon smiles to himself, the skull is certainly impressive and very on brand. He's always liked when people give him themed gifts.

"You like it," you tell him. Tell him, he likes that too, that you can read him so well, that he doesn't have to say anything for you to understand.

"Where's my old hat?" He asks, turning the hat over in his hands. There aren't any seams, one singular, perfect, piece. There's a little heart stamped at the edge of the brim, he traces it with his fingernail.

"I still got it," you lean against his side, "figured if the new one made your bones rattle you'd want the old one." You watch his hands as he flips the hat back skull up. "You like it?" That one is a question, assurance when your confidence wavers. He shouldn't have asked about his old hat, but he was curious.

Simon settles the hat onto his head and flicks the heart on the brim, "Gonna spoil me."

You turn to press your smile against his shoulder. Simon tips your head to kiss you, soft and sweet, and feels the slide of your lips like a homecoming.

"Good," you murmur, "I want you rotten."

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Gaze of the Moon (HOTD One-Shot)

Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You and your wife, the Princess Rhaenyra steal a moment of peace together as you prepare for the coming birth of your child.

Fic type: fluff, romance, reflection

A/N: I had intended for this to be fem!reader x Rhaenyra but it wound up GN. This is also for @hotd-bigbang's March 11th prompt.

HOTD: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Did you know of that tale?" You asked softly, brushing your wife's hair back behind her ear as she lay against you in the moonlight. "About the second moon who cracked open from the heat of the sun and let the dragons out?"

Your wife let out a deep breath, the back of her skull pressing into your shoulder as she leaned back against you to peer out at the sky- up at the full moon above. She was gorgeous tonight. Radiant, round- both wife and moon.

The silver rays caught in Rhaenyra's loose hair, free tonight from tight braids and silk ribbons. The way you knew she preferred it. She'd been a wild child who'd grown into a proper lady, though you knew she yearned for the freedom of manhood. If she were a man, things would be easier. You both knew this but didn't care to dwell on it. There was no changing what was.

Rhaenyra hummed, eyes catching in the moon's gaze.

"I'm sure I remember my father telling me such a story once," she affirmed softly, lip twitching ever-so-slightly into the ghost of a smile. Your wife spent so much time stone-faced under the watchful eyes of the court vultures that even in the privacy of your own quarters she sometimes had trouble letting the cracks through. You treasured each of them like jewels as they deserved to be. "I used to stay up late into the eve and watch the moon- waiting for her to split and for the night to grow dark save for the fire of dragon's breath,' she admitted, eyes drawing closed as she thought on the memories.

"Perhaps one day, my dear wife," you said, pressing a kiss to her head before allowing your own to lean back against the cold, stone wall behind you. "Tell me, what is High Valyrian for 'moon'?"

You'd been learning her family's language for some time now, and you were certainly getting there. It was just that you preferred to hear the words from Rhaenyra's tongue. And truly, who could blame you when her voice had such royal lilt? Her voice was a balm for the mind. Or your mind, at the very least. You could listen to her speak for an age and then some.

"Hūra," Rhaenyra replied, a soft knowing smirk on her lips. You repeated it back to her, testing the syllables on your tongue. You liked the way it sounded, the way it felt. You reached a hand around her to brush over her swollen belly, round with child.

"If we have a daughter," you said thoughtfully, "Hūra is a nice name, do you not think?" Your fingers danced over her belly, and you both let out a laugh when you felt the babe kick from within her. Rhaenyra's hand joined yours, squeezing comfortingly. You hastily added, "It is not a traditional name, but I like it."

"Princess Hūra Targaryen," Rhaenrya breathed, opening her eyes to peer at her belly. "It does have a ring to it," she agreed, "and if the little one's restlessness is anything to speak of, the babe likes it, too."

You both lapsed into silence for a while, enjoying the light of the moon, the glint of the stars and the sounds of the night. It was quiet at this hour. Your favourite hour. What else could you possibly want for than this? A loving wife in your arms, a babe on the way, a flask of wine to share and the gaze of the moon on you?

"I suppose it is only fair you get to name one of our children," she said after a while. You'd almost thought her asleep in your arms with how quiet she'd been. "Why not the first. Get it out of the way, hmm?" She teased. "What if the babe is a boy?"

You chuckled softly, flicking at her arm in reply to her jape.

"Thank you, wife. Your generosity knows no bounds. I do not think the bairn is a boy, but if he is, I am quite fond of Vēzos. Best keep with the theme."

"One has to wonder where this sudden passion for celestial names has come from, my love," Rhaenyra mused. "Perhaps we will have twins. The Maester did say it was a possibility. Hūna and Vēzos. Moon and Sun-" Rhaenyra shifted uncomfortably as the babe wriggled under her skin. "I like it."

"Strong names," you added, brushing your fingers through her hair softly, aiming to detangle the few knots that caught in your fingers. "Compassionate names. Perfect for bairns destined for greatness."

You suddenly found yourself hoping for twins. A boy and a girl. Siblings to grow up together and protect each other from the horrors that lay dormant in the realm. You could picture them, age three or perhaps four, playing hide and seek in the gardens. Ages ten and four by their mothers' side on the throne. Ages nine and ten crowned joint heirs to the throne. Ages four and thirty sitting side by side on the throne. Ruling, together. Sun and Moon, over their kingdom. Their birth-right. Protecting each other and keeping each other in check. What was best for the kingdom.

The thought filled you with pride. Oh, yes, you hoped for twins. It wouldn't be long now until Rhaenyra was due. Within a month, most likely. It was part of the reason you both were staying up late at night and enjoying the peace. Once Rhaenyra commenced and completed her labours, there wouldn't be much room for peace and quiet.

And yet, you couldn't wait. You didn't like the thought of your lady-wife in pain, but the thought of your quiet chambers filled with the sounds of a babe or two growing big and strong was perhaps motivating enough for you to bear the thought of her pain. You'd be by her side no matter what, of course. Fuck the Maesters and midwives. This was your wife, your babe. You would be there to support her until she asked you to leave.

"We should retire to bed," Rhaenyra broke your thoughts as she began shifting to stand. "We both need our rest for the day to come. I believe we are making arrangements for catering after the birth."

Ah, yes. The feast the King was insisting upon for the birth of his Grand-Sire. As the birth grew closer, more plans needed to be set. Catering, colours, floral arrangements, gifts for the babe. So many things that Rhaenyra and yourself were set to arrange. You may have enjoyed setting the festivities up, but Rhaenyra would be more than happy to sit out if she could.

You hadn't told Rhaenyra yet, but you'd made arrangements with the cooks to send for the ingredients to make Rhaenyra's favourite sweets. Ones she had not had since she were near a babe herself. The rest of the food, however, you both needed to settle on. A job for tomorrow, quite clearly.

You supported her as she stood, following behind. You stretched out the muscles in your arms and legs, creaking with complaint. You could only imagine how Rhaenyra felt. You left the balcony door open to the bedchambers as you helped your wife shift out of her gown.

Once she was settled into the sheets, Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief. The bed took the weight off her body and allowed her to settle in. You followed, pressing up against her back to keep her warm against the slight chill of the night.

Rhaenyra took your hand and rested it against her belly. You felt any of your remaining troubles melt away for the moment and pressed a kiss to the back of Rhaenyra's neck.

"Good night, my love," you whispered softly, rubbing your thumb over the silky material of her nightdress. "Sleep well, little one."

You drifted off to the sound of Rhaenyra's soft breathing and the quiet chatter of insects out in the gardens below your balcony, dreaming of the bairns to come, and a life well lived.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Might be weird to ask but petplay? I just think certain COD men *cough cough* soap *cough cough* would be esp good as dumb puppies y'know?

COD petplay headcanons

Little do you know anon, I enjoy petplay, so this is no weird question at all. And you are so right. Petplay COD be upon ye.

Ill be going on holiday all of next week, so if you guys are fine with shorter replies i can write some on my phone, let me know what you think.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Soap is such a good pup, kind of a brat sometimes but its because he wants your attention. You’ll catch him crawling around with your clothes in his mouth or half crawled under the kitchen table, his lower body still sticking out as he chews on something he shouldn’t be chewing on.

Whines loudly and paws at your leg for attention any time you aren’t paying attention to him. Can’t you see how good he’s being? How tempted his tummy is when he rolls onto his back? Don’t you wanna rub it?

The type to crawl around in a jockstrap, a harness, a collar, a puphood and pup gloves. Don’t forget the plug with a tail attached so he can wag so prettily for you, or so it can wag all over the place when he’s feeling playful.

Sadly, you’ll have to punish the poor pup on the regular, he makes a mess and can’t keep himself from humping your leg or crawling onto the furniture to lick and bite at you. Its not unusual to find him humping pillows in your bedroom, whining for you.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Hes more calm than the others, but don’t expect that means he’s less of a troublemaker. Will steal your keys or your clothes and hide them under the bed, or under his dog bed so that you can’t leave. Will chew on your belts and throw your laundry all over the place.

A whiner too, has this warbled pathetic sounding whine he lets out when you tell him to stay still and quiet so you can work, but settles down if hes allowed to wrap around your feet. It always ends up with him chewing or licking your ankles though.

Wears a getup similar to Soap, with the jockstrap, harness, hood and gloves. Likes how it makes him dependent on you as his master to take care of him. Sometimes he just gets home from a mission, puts on his hood, and lays down with his head in your lap to calm down from the day.

Tries to be more sneaky when he’s horny, like subtly grinding into the floor or his dog bed, or sitting down and wiggling in his spot so he can move his plug around inside him. You always catch him though, since he starts that warbly whine when he gets close but can’t finish without you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The most well-behaved pup, think like a well-trained military dog. Always standing straight on all fours, back straight, head lifted, and chest puffed out. He soaks up any praise you give him with a gruff bark and a small wag.

Doesn’t regularly whine, is more of a barker or growler. He growls the most if there are other pups around that try to get close to you or play with him, as he’s always standing on guard in front of you. You always have to muzzle him around other pups cuz Ghost does nip at times, especially when other pups are acting up and he needs to correct their behavior.

Tends to do play either fully dressed in his military gear, just a tail strapped to his belt and a customized hood with his skull paint. Or fully naked, only wearing maybe a harness, a spikey collar, his hood, his tail, and a cockcage unless you need it off.

If Ghost is in the mood, you’ll invite other pups over (unless you are poly and have multiple partners who are pups) and Ghost will assert himself as the alpha amongst them. This is where you take the cage off him so he can push down the other pups and take them. He will always arch his back for you though, or roll onto his back and spread his legs with a tiny barely audible whine for you.

Gary “Roach” Sanderson

A very quiet pup and doesn’t act up much, tends to be more on the chill side. Hes even allowed in the furniture since he wont mess it up like others, and likes to curl up beside you with his head in your lap.

When hes feeling it though, like if you’ve been apart for a while, he might start growing antsy. Crawling around in front of you or sitting right by your feet and letting out tiny barely audible whines. It always ends up with him pawing at your knee and looking at you with the most lethal puppy eyes ever.

Doesn’t wear as much gear at the others, I don’t think he would enjoy the gloves that make his hands unusable, and the hood might feel too restrictive to him. Instead hed just resort to walking on his knuckles, wearing a headband with ears, and maybe wearing a belt with a tail on top of his boxers.

A licker, he doesn’t say much, but you will know he’s truly in the mood when he starts licking you all over. Licking at your hands, your legs, your torso, slobbering all over your pants and crotch until you open your belt and give him what he wants.

Phillip Graves

Another troublemaking pup, a brat. Rips up pillows and gnaws on your belts and wallet. The type you have to play tug of war with for your belt as he growls and yips, wagging his tail and drooling on the floor.

The kinda pup you’ll have to spank and punish in other ways, not out of this world to put him in a cockcage or crate for the night if he’s acted out way too much. He enjoys it very much though, so it’s nothing he hasn’t asked for himself. Graves has probably come up with some of the punishments himself.

Hes fully geared up, hood, gloves, tail and all, except he wouldn’t wear a jockstrap, just fully naked expect for the pup parts. Hes not always wearing a cage as its only for punishment, so you can catch him grinding against stuff sometimes.

The most effective punishment for him is overstimulation, laying him across your lap and jerking him off until he’s whining and writhing and shaking, where after you’ll let him cuddle against your chest after cleaning him up, praising him and giving him good aftercare.

[ladygoth]

♱⋆♱ ɢɪʀʟᴅᴀᴅ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ♱⋆♱

♱⋆♱ oh how spoiled little claudia was, you took some of the credit of raising her to be someone who is over-indulged but you were a hundred percent sure that it was mostly ghost's fault.

♱⋆♱ and when you did point it out all he would say is that he couldnt say no to her cuteness or "what would you expect from a girl named claudia" which would cause you to roll your eyes.

♱⋆♱ claudia was adorable and in the end you did agree that the name claudia was meant for a girl to be spoiled.

♱⋆♱ it was evident that claudia was everything to him, when she first met his team-mates he had loomed behind every person who had held her, it was said that claudia had looked exactly like both her parents and ghost would argue that claudia looked like him the most.

♱⋆♱ she had light brown hair and her eyes were somewhat light brown as well but she had inherited your cute curls, aside from her bubbly and spoon-fed behaviour she had inherited ghost's grumpy attitude, like all of it.

♱⋆♱ waking up early? she would be hard to co-operate with unless her daddy was there to help then maybe she'd give in, mostly because ghost would agree with her complaints about going to school.

♱⋆♱ and when ghost would pick her up she'd have the happiest smile on her face, sometimes she'd leave without telling her teacher about his arrival so all they would see, is a small quick figure sprinting towards her father.

♱⋆♱ ghost would also have packets of sweets waiting for her in the car and she'd return home hyper-active as ever, inheriting her sweet-tooth from her father had been something you had considered to be cute. but both you and ghost would soon grow tired of it after her numerous laps around the house.

♱⋆♱ and ghost would be the type of father who would go to every meeting and performance, when you were busy for the day and he would be tasked to go to claudia's parent meetings he was aware he would be perceived as the scary parent, a tall 6'4 man wearing a skull mask holding the hand of a bubbly and talkative kid was a sight to see.

♱⋆♱ though that didnt stop some single-mothers attempting to shoot their shots but they'd be sassed by a 4 year old telling them that he was married and when the two would go home she would immediately tell you what had happened.

♱⋆♱ it's funnier when it's time for claudia's ballet performance, you'd sit next to him but his figure still stalking above yours and others so in future performances you two would sit at the back and watch how little claudia steals the spotlight with her dance. at first she'd be quite upset. in thought that you two didnt turn up, but once she sees the both of you the biggest smile would form on her face and her confidence to perform would spike.

isnt girldad!simon the cutest and her being a ballerina is everything...

[eddiesghxst]

eddie is literally a little kleptomaniac. he’s just always taking shit that’s not his. he doesn’t even really register it as “i’m stealing” he’s just…takes it.

you’ve lost so many hair ties, graphic tees, chapsticks, jewelry, etc. all for it to some day show up either on eddie or somewhere in his trailer.

he even stole your earrings once. and eddie’s ears aren’t even pierced.

well…they weren’t pierced, but when he saw the skull studs sitting on your dresser he didn’t even think twice before he took them and made his way to your bathroom to poke the shit out of his ears with the earrings. you noticed them a week later when he had his hair tied up and when he told you how he pierced them himself, you scolded him and made him take them out so you could properly clean the piercing to avoid an infection.

he takes silverware and tiny plates from restaurants, fancy pens from service desks, dozens and dozens of lighters (you would think he’s an arsonist with the amount of lighters scattered around his room), the list goes on and on.

eddie is also the type of guy to snack on shit in the middle of grocery shopping before even paying. he’ll be strolling behind you when all of a sudden you hear him opening a bag of chips. you look back at him and he’s just casually munching on some doritos whilst looking at whatever’s on the shelf. he doesn’t even care, just shrugs and says, “i was hungry and we’re in a super market, why would i continue to starve?”

you call him your little raccoon <3

[absurdumsid]

I need info on saejun an you obviously know him better than me, so can i have you favorite hcs, theories (how he joined the mtt), or interactions on him w/ the mtt :)

OF COURSE U CAN !! so sorry, it took me a bit to compile all of this from my older notes aaaa have a compensation doodle bc i took SOO long GHGHHHGH

anyway saejun nation pspspspss

saejun !! THE beloved if u will

he regularly speaks korean but learned english after meeting nightmare and killer

i love to think he's very very strong, he can beat the mtt in a fistfight kind of strong (not like he would, but he'd win)

he can cook decently but he'd choose his brother's cooking any day (even if pilsu is still um learning)

he also really likes spicy dishes !! he bonds over that with dust !

he'd forgive ppl who steal from the farm but he wouldn't forgive harming the crops

he HATES pesticides (i think this is canon actually) but also really hates strong smells in general

sleepy 24/7 he lays in the grass to photosynthesize (he just passes out, pilsu wakes him almost every time)

probably knows a lot of offhand herbology/biology trivia (he can explain the aerobic and anaerobic cycle by heart)

his general attitude toward the mtt/bad sanses is not to pry unless they're the ones who open up to him (even now he only rlly learns about their situations through nightmare who doesn't talk that much about it anyway)

he accepts mtt with open arms and its that accepting (almost forgiving) nature that makes them so super attached to him !!

for me, it's the concept of meeting a version of yourself that lives the most peaceful life and being happy for him, but ALSO not being shunned by that alternate version for being violent and hurting the people that you both love

as for how saejun met mtt, my general interpretation of it is that nightmare struck a deal with saejun for food supplies in exchange for manual labour (so mtt and nightmare help a lot with the harvests! the only ones who really know about it is pilsu, saejun, anseung, and suggu)

killer // 고통씨 (Mr. Misery/Grief)

saejun meets killer first and was the only one helping around the farm

i don't think saejun would be the type to pry into their pasts so he doesn't question killer about himself or anything

killer is the one who opens up to him one stormy night after a stage 3 episode where he holed himself up in the shed and saejun found him cold, shaking, and curled up embracing himself

he calms killer down and tells nightmare abt it and that's how he finds out about killer's past (he doesn't bring it up, but he's always there to help killer after his panic attacks)

he likes to do the chores with killer most of the time just in case he has a run in with chorongi or suggu (the kids are very silly and tend to mess with him and he doesn't know how killer is with children)

they photosynthesize together and sometimes nightmare just comes to get killer in the evening and finds them in the grass

horror // 취급주의 (Handle with Care) or 주주씨 (Mr. Vermillion)

he meets horror second (after he gets kidnapped by nightmare) and saejun isn't really scared of him because he figured that he probably has some hidden issues like killer

saejun thought horror was really fragile at first (because he was very thin and had a skull injury) so he actually had him do mostly little chores like going to the market or gathering eggs from the chickens

after a few months killer doesn't come in (was sent to a mission somewhere else) and saejun needs someone to handle the heavy hay bales (<- he could've done it himself but hes lazy) and horror just kinda Does It and surprises saejun

he starts to depend on horror more and actually admits that he was underestimating him out of concern for his wellbeing and horror says its ok because he was also underestimating saejun (until he saw him carry killer AND a bunch of crops home that one time)

they start to cook together and do the heavier chores (while making silly jokes abt killer) together

horror starts to learn korean by talking with dorihye, saejun, and pilsu as well as asking nightmare for some reading material ! (after finding out that dust also speaks korean, he starts practicing conversation with him !)

dust // 유골씨 (Mr. Ashes)

saejun's meeting with dust was noooot planned at all, nightmare just kinda forced mtt into a portal to farmtale during one of errors visits

horror mostly stayed with dust at first who was just dead silent and stayed in one spot (saejun asked if he wanted any drinks and it took ten excruciating seconds before horror had to answer water for him)

its not until pilsu comes into the house and greets killer and horror and makes a remark about a new brother that he starts to actually talk

dust doesn't exactly warm up to pilsu and more like forces himself to because pilsu starts to ask him what his favourite pasttimes are, his favourite food, if he wants any snacks, etc (killer and horror went through the same thing)

dust eventually gets carried off to the kitchen to cook with pilsu and that's how pilsu finds out dust speaks fluent korean even though they have different dialects

saejun goes into the kitchen and has a little talk with dust (where he learns they both speak korean !! and that that's why dust wasn't speaking that much !) and they bond over pilsu's silliness (dust talks about how his papyrus also loved to cook etc etc, saejun notices that its in past tense but doesn't dig any deeper)

dust eventually starts to visit farmtale with horror frequently to exchange makguksu and ramyeon recipes with pilsu !!

dust is also relatively close with dorihye, anseung, and suggu who tend to remark that "the other saejuns dont really talk much" to which horror always chuckles

that's all (for now) !! TYSM FOR ASKING ABT MY BLORBOS BGHGHRGRHG

[yoonsenji]

Summary: Daddy little girl! (Platonic)

Tokyo Revengers ×××

Character's:- Sanzu (Bonten), Mikey (Bonten), Izana.

Haruchiyo Sanzu!

It was no surprise that Sanzu would have a kid oneday since this man can't keep his dick to himself. You have your mother features the only thing that makes you appear related to Sanzu was your personality.

The Rosy pink haired male couldn't help but groan by your presence, he doesn't really like you even tho you're his own blood (he hope). He would bring you anywhere since he doesn't want you to be kidnapped either, killing and taking drugs infront of you he was unhinged.

While Sanzu was busy inhaling some cocaine the guy he have beaten up which Sanzu thought was dead would slowly rise up. You watch as the man glare at your father and take out a knife, unfortunately Sanzu was too high on drugs to realise what was about to happen. As a sound of bullet piercing through a human skull echo through the broken down building.

Sanzu turn behind to understand what the hell happened just to see the man he had beaten up on the group a puddle of blood forming around his head. A pocket knife on his hand as he look at you, you were still holding the gun as you look at your father with a cute smile. This was when Sanzu knew you were really his daughter.

He treat you better than ever from that day, he always thought you weren't his which make him not treat you that well and since he is too busy to take a DNA test. He always thought some whore who he have slept with just lie and drop you off and run away.

Your mother did just put you infront of Bonten building and put a little note that say "Fuck you Sanzu, you ruin my life. So, you should take care of this plump of cell not me".

The more Sanzu actually spend times with you the more he realised that you are just like him. Your laugh sound like his, you hav his charm, thank God since he doesn't want you to have the charm of a whore, Sanzu was excited to teach you how to used a gun. He would tie up people and used them as a target, whenever you shoot right through their head your father would give you a high five.

Sanzu treat you like a princess if Rindou or Ran tried to mess with you he's so read to put a bullet through their head. "Y/n... Did you know that your mother was a whore?" Ran told you as you only sigh "Yes, uncle I know my mother was a whore... Please enlighten me on how I should react" You reply back, "See, even the kid is annoyed of you!" The younger haitani added as he laugh.

Even Mikey like you which make Sanzu like you even more, just like your father you admire Mikey but unlike your father you weren't the type to lick a ground if Mikey say so.

But, Sanzu start to go to the club not that often now. Even if Ran or Rindou beg him to go as long as if he have a plan with you he would just reject the offer. Sanzu does bring prostituted back home but he always make sure not to be loud although you already understand what is going on.

"Princess, what should I do with her?" Sanzu would ask you as he grab the hair of the woman who tried to steal Sanzu wallet, he asked you since he knew damn well you would always come up with a creative way of killing people. Kids do have a wild imagination and killing someone the same way over and over was boring. "Daddy, why not cut off her hand so she won't be able to steal anything anymore... Maybe after that you can feed her family using her" You reply with a smile on your face the woman skin turn pale as she start to beg for forgiveness. "Ah! My princess is so smart, I'm so proud of you, princess" Sanzu praise you as you smile proudly.

Sanzu sent you to the best school he could possibly find since his princess deserve the best. You were guarded by gang members 24/7 if not they'll die. No matter how dumb you are no school have the gut to reject you since they still want to live, if you're smart the teacher would treat you very good cause their life is on your hand at this point.

You usually hang out at the Bonten building, Mikey allowed you to. Mikey clearly have a favourite and it's definitely you, you weren't noisy nor cause a fight, you would tell him story which makes his life a bit less boring, you listen to him and ask nothing in return and you're a cheeky kid who is good at tricking people.

"So, the unicorn couldn't cross the river because... Even tho there was.... A beutiful tree the unicorn couldn't left his friend behind... The end!" You say with a smile as you close the book, Mikey who was listening to your story closely although you pronounce some word wrong it was pleasent to hear, Mikey still have his childish side so he would asked you to read more story until you fall asleep while reading a story for him.

Manjiro Sano!

Mikey doesn't even know what the hell he was feeling to even have sex with some random chick but now he have a kid... Your mother just casually drop you off and flew to another country.

Your eyes were similar to Mikey a fucking void of nothing. You don't cause tantrums nor cry loudly, you were quite patient and listen to anything your father say, but no one else could literally control you it doesn't matter of Mikey send them if you do not see your father you're causing a big tantrums.

You would sit quietly while drawing a picture using a crayon, Sanzu was your babysitter since Mikey trust him enough somehow. The Rosy pink haired male was not that happy but atleast you're Mikey daughter.

"I could go out with some chick's but here I am babysitting you" the Rosy pink haired male complain once again, even Ran and Rindou were simply sitting there not complaining and Sanzu was only blaming you, "Could you stop yapping your mouth... Y'know some of us have things to do other than yapping" you told the older male as Sanzu was pissed off. Even if you are Mikey kids you ain't Mikey, "I didn't know an idiot like you could talk" Sanzu said trying to hold back his anger, "You're a grown ass adult arguing with a kid, I wonder who the idiot is" Seem like you got your mother mouth.

You're always ready to throw hands with anyone especially Sanzu, among the elite members of Bonten if we forget your own father Koko like you the most. Unlike those idiots you actually know how to used money properly, you somehow managed to pull money out of no where... He used your innocent to steal things to.

Everyday you have a playful fight with Sanzu... It get violence real quick tho, it's either you throw things at him or he pull his gun out and point it at you. You two do not get along very well but you never bad mouth him to your father, even if Mikey tried to stop the daily fight you simply just say it's yours and his problem... No one can butt in.

It's impossible to kidnap you since you're always with Mikey or another elite members of Bonten. Even when you go to school atleast one elite member have to pick you up since you're Mikey kid.

You're the whole reason Mikey haven't completely lose himself so if you're gone everyone is going to be fucked up.

You're literally Bonten princess, you hold a very important role in Bonten since you're the reason Mikey is not insane yet... You would usually be near your father and you weren't afraid of gruesome scene since y'know your father and his friends kill people on daily basis.

Mikey doesn't allow you to touch any of his gun nor any gun, he might be the most dangerous gang leader but he ain't gonna let his princess touch something that can harm them. What's the point of being a good father if you need to learn self defence at early age.

"Rinrin... What happened to my teddy?" You ask as you stare at the teddy bear on the groud, it was really fucked up there was a bullet hole in your bear. "Um... Well you see" Rindou tried his best to find a good excuse since making you cry was bad even tho Mikey isn't here. His older brother Ran was just looking at him smirking, this all happened because Ran said something that provoke Rindou to pull out his gun and shoot which was Ram plan and make him shoot the bear instead. "You... Ruin my bear!" You were tearing up badly. And you cried, you were throwing everything you could get your little hand on and throwing at anyone.

Whenever you get sad or mad you throw anything at anyone only your father can calm you down during such period. Or you straight up bite, kick, pull, scream. You only do such things when you are seriously mad or sad, but after everything you would apologise a half ass apologize you weren't sorry it's their fault for provoking you.

"I swear your father won't like it if you stand out in the rain!" Sanzu was trying to get you out the rain but since any umbrella was near he wasn't ready to ruin his beautiful hair and outfit. "Bleh! No!" You said as you took a step back getting further away from the pink haired male. "Shit man! Why do you have to be so difficult!?" Sanzu asked as you stick out your tongue at him. You were freezing cold but there was no way you were going to back out easily. "Blah blah blah! Keep talking pinky pie!" You said as you told your arm and sit down on the groud. "I'll buy you a dorayaki?" "Okay!".

You're a easy to buy since just like how young Mikey was you were in love with Dorayaki, you never share food tho even with your father you hesitate a bit and give it to him. You only eat food if a flag can be added or else you're not eating it.

You were sitting on the soft sofa as you much on the freshly buy Dorayaki as you swing your life feets, every bite bringing you to heaven as you enjoyed in silence. "Y/n" the younger haitani call out your name as you look at him "Can I eat some... Even a little crust would be nice?" Rindou asked, they bet him to take even a little bite off your food as you smile at him. Rindou for sure though that you'll say yes since the way you were smiling was closed to the word yes. "No" you simply answer as you continue to eat your dorayaki. Rindou look disappointed at himself it seem as his charm didn't work on you and Sanzu and Ran were laughing at him. As your father entered the room you jump up from your seat and walk towards your father with a proud smile. You snap the dorayaki in half although it was not even, "Daddy, want one?" You asked as you already put out the dorayaki for him "Sure, princess" Mikey reply as he grab the dorayaki and eat it. You just simply go back to your seat and just ignore the younger Haitani brother who was simply flabbergasted by the obvious favourism.

Kurokawa Izana!

He doesn't even know what happened that night... He didn't mean to have sex with anyone he was simply too drunk and the girl seduced him.

Now he have to take care of you and yeah the woman even throw the DNA test paper to him.

At first he literally ignore your existence and kaku take care of you all the time. Whenever Izana looked at you, you remind him of himself when he was younger not wanted by his own mother.

Hence, he started to treat you like how he wish to be treat by his mother when he was younger, he would hold your hand while walking, make kaku read bedtime story for you, play the guitar for you and he even beat up any guy who look at you the wrong way.

He tried his best to not get you involved in any of his gang activities but they do adore you alot. Even tho Shion is a scary ass dude you would just play with his hair and listen to him talk about anything. You do not like Kisaki at all... He tried to get along with you but yeah you'll run and hide behind anyone. The haitani brother treat you like their little sister, kakucho is your mother at this point, hanma... He play with you too much.

"Y/n... Why don't we buy ice cream hm...?" Kisaki asked you as you look at him terrified, Kisaki reminds you of a monster which make you run and hide behind the older haitani. "Eh...?" Ran look confused as you grab onto him tightly, "Look like y/n doesn't like you" Rindou said out as Kisaki only Chuckled, he was hella mad inside. His whole plan was to make you like him and kidnapped you.

You don't talk much nor do much, you are just you... Unlike your mother who left you, you were alot calmer and patience, but just like Izana your determination was strong and you got Izana eyes as well.

You would just sit down on the groud and listen to everyone talk since Izana doesn't trust anyone who isn't Kaku... And kaku have to attend the meeting to, most people think you couldn't talk at one point but you could clearly do that.

Izana would never take you to anything that includes other gang... He'll just simply locked the door from the outside door and since he trust you enough to be alone.

But, if anyone dare to bad mouth your father thinking you were too much of a coward to say anything... They're dumb, although you aren't much of a talker unlike your mother, you have the same attitude as your mother.

"Y'know, boss would be nothing without the haitani brother's" the guy say although you were right there "Dude! Boss daughter is right there... Keep it shut or boss will kill us!" The other guy tried to warn his friend as he laugh in response "She is too much of a coward to do shit..." The other guy would simply say. You literally pick up a rock and throw it at the guy "ouch! What the hell is wrong with you?!" The guy asked as you stood up. "Annoying..." you told him as you walk away "Dude I told you..." The other guy told him "She only talk big she won't rat me out" the guy say with full of confidence. You did tell you father and everyone you know...

You rat people out if you have to... Izana is a very sweet and protective dad, he would hold your hand if you ever walk out anywhere. Making sure he doesn't neglect you and have enough time to spend with you. If he can't spend time with you kaku would definitely be the best replacement for such tasks.

Kaku was definitely worried when you didn't talk much and thinks you have a talking problem. He told Izana about his worried, Izana didn't want you to get bullied for such silly reason that Izana start to talk less so you won't be alone... It wasn't that deep tho you just think talking too much is a waste of energy.

You would sit down and work on your little project for hours, you were making a drawing of you and Izana with your crayon which Kaku bought for you. You were very careful with your drawing and whenever you see even a tiny flaw you would just redo the whole drawing.

You tug at your father pants to get his attention "What is it princess?" Your father ask you as you give him the drawing "I draw for you..." You would say with a sweet smile as Izana just smile at you and admire your work as well... "I'll put it on the fridge so everyone will get to see it, okay?" He ask you as you nod your head a yes.

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE ERASERMIC X READER

It's been over a month since Hizashi and Shouta kidnapped you and you were going crazy out of boredom and with nothing to do. They assured you that living with them wouldn't be THAT bad since they could take care of your every need and you would never have to work again. 

To top it all, you were also quirkless but having a smart brain didn't exactly help either since hizashi and Shouta made sure to destroy all possible means of escape for you. They rarely ever punished you and most of the times, punishments included leaving you isolated for a few days and having your favorite things take away from you (YES, even the CAT!) but to be honest, life with them wasn't ALL bad... they were nice and caring towards you, in a sickly manner of course that sometimes made you want to barf

You were sitting on the bed that you shared with your captors and you were watching a movie on Netflix on your laptop. You were bored out of your skull and weren't focused on the movie. You missed your old life dearly and you've always wanted to be an author and get your work published. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and you immediately started typing away on your laptop

After a few days, you finally decided to post your work online on Wattpad since you had a Wattpad account and you were an author there (Lol, I feel like I'm breaking the 4th wall). It had asked you to log in but failed even after you entered your password repeatedly. You decided to check your email to see if there was something wrong and when you entered your email id, you couldn't log into THAT too

''Hizashi, why am I not able to access my email?'' you screeched from the couch that you were sitting on while Aizawa and Mic were making breakfast for you. They came out of the kitchen sat next to you, cuddled you and Aizawa said, ''Now now kitty cat, don't tell me you don't know WHY we disabled your email now do you?'' 

''You. did. what?!'' you asked in a steely calm manner since you knew it would be pointless to waste your voice against them. ''Aww.. come on little songbird, don't be like that. We did it for a very good reason and it's for your safety. Who knows WHAT sort of emails you'll be getting from WHAT sort of people. They could try stealing you away and you would be in GRAVE danger without us and that's why you need ONLY us'' Hizashi chirped like he was explaining why he couldn't play with you 

''But.... I just need it for something. I swear I won't try contacting anyone! You guys can even be next to me if you want'' you pleaded with them as they traded curious and worried looks. ''Kitten, do you have a fever?'' Aizawa asked placing his hand on top of your forehead. ''Leave me alone, I'm fine'' you said grumpily

''What do you even need an email for anyway?'' asked Hizashi all curious like. ''Well, I've written a story and I want to publish it online so people can read it'' you said. Silence. That was NOT a good sign

After a few seconds, you heard Hizashi laugh and say, ''Oh you mean that action story which you wrote? It was quite good and amazing. Shouta and me liked it but tone down the violence all right baby? We don't want our precious little darling getting all violent thoughts now do we'' and started cooing

''Wait.... how did you guys even read it?'' you asked them confused as Aizawa said, ''From your laptop of course. You can't hide anything from us you know kitty cat'' and pet your head 

''So.... is it a yes?'' you asked them slowly. ''NO'' they both said in unison as you looked at them with sadness in your eyes and asked ''WHY NOT!?'' They hated seeing you sad. It broke and shattered their hearts into a million pieces, but they had to be firm with you

''We won't stop you from writing your stories and books. In fact, we'll encourage it but why do you want to share with the other underserving SCUMBAGS and filth who don't deserve to read your beautiful work?'' asked Aizawa. ''That's true and besides the internet is getting to be dangerous place nowadays so I think we'll have to limit your time of use on your laptop. We don't want to affect your health and it's all for your safety of course'' chirped Yamada enthusiastically as you leaned back in Aizawa's touch, silently crying as Hizashi wiped your tears away 

You were 100 percent sure that now they would CERTAINLY change the laptop password or make you use the laptop under their supervision for a limited time or not even LET you use it... but what could you do? You were helpless and powerless against these so-called pro heroes who wanted to save you from all the ''dangers'' in the society and you couldn't do anything but follow their rules and abide their conditions 

''Now come on and have some breakfast'' chirped Yamada and dragged you towards the kitchen as you saw Aizawa eyeing the laptop suspiciously. You knew you weren't going to use it any time soon, that was for SURE......

[bored-storyteller]

Warning: gore, cannibalism (between ghouls)

Author's note: I realized that I was much braver with Uta at first. Let's try again.

Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x Human!Reader

What is mine

There is a smell of blood in the putrid air. Your blood.

The ghoul holds you in its arms like a sacrificial victim.

“That's mine.”

“I didn't know, sorry...I'm not the type to go around stealing other people's food, believe me.”

Looks nice, him. He has dyed blond and blue hair that escapes from his wildly done bun. His locks fall on a face that would look like an angel's, if it weren't for those veins that flow like streams from the black and red eyes of a demon. He doesn't have to shine with intelligence since he doesn't wear the mask, or maybe he trusts too much in his abilities, for someone so average.

Uta picks you up when the younger ghoul hands you over to him: you are cold, you are shaking, you are crying. He doesn't know if you're paralyzed with fear or blood loss from that wound on your shoulder.

Your blood tickles his sense of smell, and his palate. Your fingers grip his sweater, and he holds you just tighter. He doesn’t blame the other one, your perfume is intoxicating now that your flesh is uncovered.

He mustn't be happy to give up on you, he wouldn't if Uta weren't so much stronger than him.

The Mask Maker gently puts you on the ground, he feels your fear: you are afraid of everything now, even him.

That person tried to take you away from him, to keep you for himself. And that person expects him to get you now.

“Luckily I'm hungry.” He says as he looks into your eyes. If you can be more afraid than you already are, he doesn't know. But it doesn’t matter.

The ghoul with the beautiful face was going to say something, but it's hard to talk when your vocal cords are torn.

The carotid artery hangs from the bite mark like a slack string, part of it between Uta's teeth; a flick of the tongue and it disappears between the lips.

The eyes of the predator victim are wide open, incredulous. Gorgeous, perhaps.

How long can it take for that slit throat to heal? A lot of time. Too little.

Uta bites again, blood gushes, there is a muffled scream.

The taste of that meat has nothing to do with the smell you give off, but Uta is hungry.

He's hungry, and your broken skin makes him lose control.

Someone must be eaten by him.

That ghoul wanted to eat you.

He wanted him to eat you himself.

He was about to lose you, in a way or another.

His hands dig into his chest, the intricate black patterns on his fingers covered in ferrous red.

“What a greedy you are... you already ate, huh?”

The stomach of the other demon is full, Uta wonders who is in there: “It was he a boy? A girl? Young or old? An unfortunate student? All of them?”

Uta smiles. That won't be of any use now that it's out of the body, it's not right to waste it.

He won't even need his intestines, right?

And the heart? What does the unfortunate one do with his heart?

The bones crunch as they crack and open, like the crust that covers the filling.

Maybe it still moves, or maybe it doesn't, but it doesn't matter.

The teeth sink in like in an apple, they tear it, now there is no more life. But is the soul still there?

Uta is full, but still gobbles it up. He devours that body that is not meant to be eaten, that modifies his, that drives his mind crazy. Assuming Uta can go any crazier than that.

No, he can't freak out, there's you. But Uta is crazy to love you.

“Uta!”

Your voice sounds desperate. How long have you been calling him?

He looks at you with his delicate face smeared, the top of the other ghoul's skull hanging from his fingers gripping his blond hair.

Now he comes to you, he promises you. He just has to make sure you don't get eaten too.

“Is there still a soul in these eyes?” He asks the half head as he brings it up to his gaze. He can't even tell where the jaw and tongue have gone, but that's not a problem.

Those eyes that stare at him glassy and half open Uta hates them. He doesn't even bother to remove them from the eye socket; he rips the first one off with just his teeth and swallows it whole, then does the same with the other one. It's not difficult, and if inside there is the core of that stupid, then he lets it rot in his depths together with the remains of his body.

Now there is no more danger for you.

The head rolls away, no one will wonder what happened to someone like him. It's a ghoul who disappeared in the fourth ward, at the end.

Uta calls your name as he leans in front of you, sweet and gentle as ever.

He watches your hand press on the wound on your shoulder: "Let me see." He asks you softly.

You obey, but you still smell of terror. You've never seen him eat like this, not someone like him.

The fingers that used to butcher now fearfully touch the edge of your wound.

"It's not serious... you’ll be ok, everything is fine." He murmurs reassuringly, barely licking the blood that drips from you. It will be enough to remove that hateful taste from his tongue.

His hands take your face, holding it like never before. His thumbs wipe away your tears and massage your cheekbones as he contemplates you. The blood is now on you too.

He looks into your glassy eyes and something unknown stirs inside him.

He is losing you. It's the only thing he can think of. You seem so distant now.

How he can stop you, unarmed as he is. Not even the idea of consuming your body to hold you within him brings relief, and he doesn't know why you upset his functioning.

But Uta is bizarre, there is no situation in which he follows a rule of his.

You are so different from Renji to him, your delicacy makes you complicated and elusive. Your delicacy prevents him from breaking you.

He can't afford to lose you too, he understood it when his chest tightened on smelling your blood. You and Renji are the only things that still make him walk in this world, which still allow him to experience lively emotions. It's not the RC cells that risk driving him crazy, it's you.

“I love you.”

His whisper is so sweet you might think he's about to cry.

It seems strange to say, those are not words that are well suited to a language like his, especially in a world where secrets must be kept between the ribs. But that's the only thing worth letting you know right now. A ghoul love, a clown love, but it's love.

And he almost gasps when he sees your eyes light up with life again, as you look at him as if you were seeing him for the first time.

He doesn't expect to find your arms around him, nor to meet your lips.

You kiss him like it's not okay to do, like he hasn't just eaten someone. You don't seem to mind the blood smearing your face, the metallic taste on his tongue. You seem to ask him to swallow you, but there is no room for you.

The lovers: two crazy people kissing among the remains of a corpse.

It's a good stage for you two.

“He wanted to put you in his place…” He whispers as he holds you like he never held you.

“You wished too?”

Don't you already have your answer?

Your eyes travel from him to over his shoulder, but his hand covers them. He stares at the grimy tattoos on his knuckles for a split second, wondering how they got there.

It's to protect you, perhaps, or to protect him who is wrong and rotten even among monsters.

“Forget it.” He tells you.

You shake your head. He's covered you so much in ghoul blood that at first glance you wouldn't be able to tell who the perpetrator is between you two, but all those red marks on you are testament to his touch.

“I don’t want to do it. I don't want to lose anything about you” You tell him, and there's an adoration in your voice that he always pretended not to hear.

“No?”

“No. Will you take me home?”

He gives you a quick nod, and just watches you as you climb onto his back. Your grip around his neck is reassuring.

“You'll make it?” You ask, as if he's never brought you like this. He scoffs at you as he settles your legs on his hips.

He's so grateful to feel your weight on his back and not in his stomach.

“I feel heavy actually, you say it's your fault?”

You huff, and your heel taps playfully on his thigh. He pinches you lightly, affectionately.

You are alive, he wants you to be alive. There is no one in the world who could look at his melancholy and smile as you do, marveling at a monstrous beauty.

What criminals you and he are, walking off into the night, away from the eyes of the world, leaving behind the trail of sinful blood.

[gtwscratch]

This Heart of Mine is Guilty (And Remorseful)

Summary: Grian breaks the rules of the games for Scar, and Scar confronts him about it. (set in Secret Life)

CW: Mentions of past cheating/killing/stealing, character self-deprecating

Word count: 1,233

=====================================

“He needs to log out..!” Grian says as he watches the Wither chase Scar, panicked.

“He can’t, we’re in the middle of a session, Grian,” Cleo responds, also a bit panicked, but she hides it better.

“I know but..! He can’t lose his first life..!” Grian doesn’t finish his sentence, but he can’t get the words out of his head.

He can’t lose his first life because of me again.

Grian knows he’s been awful to Scar. He knows he’s messed up over and over again. He’s let the urges of being a red life take him over and ended up killing Scar on more than one occasion. He’s stolen a life from him and lost it not even twenty minutes later. He’s cheated on him after finding out they were quite literally soulmates.

And yet, after all of that, Scar has shown him nothing but love and kindness and admiration and-

All Grian knows is that he has to stop this.

He watches Scar stumble and slow down, narrowly missing getting hit by a skull, and Grian feels something. There’s an itch just beneath his skin to do something—anything—and his wings puff up a little from the panic. Without really thinking, he pulls out his comm.

<Grian> Scar log out

<Grian> Scar log out

<Grian> Scar log out

Distantly, Cleo is talking, but Grian doesn’t hear her. All he can hear are hushed and angry whispers. The edges of his vision are purple as he continuously types out the message, praying that Scar is going to be able to read it.

Players are never able to log out in times of extreme danger like this—the Watchers make sure of that. But Grian himself isn’t a regular player. He’s mentioned changing the rules before, but he’s never actually tried to do anything. So maybe, just maybe..

Grian’s heart leaps to his throat as he sees Scar pull out his comm on the shore, nearly dropping it. He reads over the messages.

<GoodTimesWithScar had left the game.>

Grian could cry. His legs feel shaky, and his hand goes to cover his mouth with relief and shock. He did it. He actually managed to save Scar.

Grian feels lighter than he has since the desert.

He suddenly remembers that he’s not alone and looks over to Cleo who’s staring back at him with wide eyes.

“.. How did you do that?” she asks, wariness in her voice.

“Um..” Grian can’t think of a good excuse, so he settles for, “I’ll tell you later. We need to go.”

=====================================

Grian knew there was going to be a punishment for saving Scar. The Watchers would never have let that happen so easily. And of course Grian doesn’t regret breaking the rules for Scar—he’d do it again in a heartbeat—but now his wings ache, and his back feels exposed as his secondary and most of his primary feathers have withered away. He’s also lost a life.

He’s exhausted after defeating the Wither, and it shows. He nearly stumbles, but a strong hand catches his arm.

“Woah there, take it easy, G.” Grian relaxes as he hears Scar speak and steadies himself with the man’s help.

“Thank you,” he breathes out, looking up at Scar’s green eyes. Oh, what Grian wouldn’t do for them to stay that beautiful green color.

Scar’s eyebrows are furrowed in concern, and he starts to lead Grian a bit away from the group of people celebrating the defeat of the Wither. When they’re out of earshot, Scar speaks up.

“Why did you do that?”

“What’re you talking about?” Even though he’s tired, Grian tries to play dumb.

The man sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You shouldn’t have used your powers like that for me.”

For a moment, Grian is alarmed before remembering he told Scar about the Watchers (and how he was one of them) while they were both half asleep and cuddling in some past season. Neither of them had spoken about it afterwards when they were more awake, so Grian had figured that Scar didn’t remember. Looks like he was wrong.

This time, he doesn’t deny anything strange happening. “In my defense, I didn’t for sure know if that would work or not.”

“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have tried it at all.”

“But you were in trouble.”

“Grian, it’s me! I’m always in trouble!” Scar shouts.

Grian’s wings (or what’s left of them) puff up, a bit agitated. He was finally trying to do something right, and Scar didn’t seem to care. “Whatever, what’s done is done. It doesn’t matter.”

Grian’s a little startled when Scar grabs his arms, and he’s even more startled to see the anguish in Scar’s eyes.

“But it does matter!! You lost a life!! Oh, and your pretty wings.. I’m not worth that..”

“No, you stop that.” Scar’s words strike something deep within Grian. This is his fault. He’s the reason Scar doesn’t think he’s worth this kind of sacrifice.

“But I’m not! You are.. everything.. and I’m just me,” Scar says quietly. “So please.. don’t do that again.”

“.. No.”

Scar blinks. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to risk my life again for you if I can.” Grian doesn’t think he’s ever been so sure in something before.

Scar’s look of agony is now primarily replaced with confusion. “You-! We’re not even allies, let alone on the same team! Why are you so-!”

“Because I’m not hurting you again!” Grian quickly answers before Scar can even finish the question.

He didn’t really mean to say it—Grian just sort of blurted it out without thinking. He’s never been one to show any kind of vulnerability. However, unlike past instances, Grian doesn’t look or feel ashamed of the revelation. Instead, he stands his ground and speaks confidently (as confidently as he can as the adrenaline wears off.)

When Scar doesn’t respond, Grian continues. “I have been the cause of so much of your suffering in these games. Please, let me save you from something I caused for once.”

He watches as Scar’s expression softens, and he takes a step forward, pulling Grian into a gentle hug. Grian immediately reciprocates, clinging onto the back of Scar’s shawl like the man will disappear if he lets go.

“Grian,” he starts softly, “you know I don’t blame you for any of that, right?”

He doesn’t respond, and the silence is all the answer Scar needs.

“Well, I don’t. I know you didn’t want to do those things. You didn’t have a choice—none of us do. Everything that happened is in the past now. Yeah, it hurt a lot, but I knew it wasn’t really you.

“This is you. You’re trying to make amends for something I’m not mad at you for.” His hand slides to Grian’s waist, rubbing his thumb up and down against the fabric to reassure the avian.

“And, void, I do appreciate the effort, but please don’t be reckless.” Scar kisses the top of Grian’s head, eliciting a soft trill from his throat.

He leans more into Scar, feeling like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “You’re one to talk,” he mumbles. He finally lets the exhaustion of the day wear on him.

Scar chuckles softly and easily picks up the smaller man. “C’mon, you need to lay down.”

As Scar carries Grian off to find a bed, Grian starts to get more drowsy. He rests his head against Scar’s chest, and the steady beating of Scar’s heart soothes him into sleep.

Scar is still green.

I saved him.

=====================================

AHHH THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT WITH THE FIRST ONE SHOT!!! I wasn’t expecting so many likes and reblogs!! :DDD

I’m so excited to keep postinggggg :)))

I have one more one shot already in the works, but after that, I’m not sure when the next one will be. Maybe I’ll aim for weekly posts? Not sure yet.

[silent-raven13]

Jealous Miles

Miles isn't the jealous type, or so he thought. His jealousy is mostly hidden with his awkward questions, or shy attitude. Normally he tries to bring up certain things casually which always sounds odd or just plain awkward. Somehow his jealousy isn't as extreme as his boyfriend's. No, Miles is always trying to be reasonable, calm and collective. He's not like his mom who ask many questions and starts investigating... tho his distant family members did say he's a lot like her. He never knew why.

Until today...

Gwen jumps happily: Isn't this great! We're going to see Hobie's concert.

Pav shimmies: Right! I am so hype!

Miles wearing his boyfriend's band shirt with tight skinny jeans and doc martin shoes: Ye-yeah! Do you see him? I can't find him anywhere. -he looks through the busy crowd wondering where his boyfriend is at-

Peter appears in the crowd with Mayday wearing black eyeliner and a black shirt. Mayday having on silly black and white makeup on to look like a skull: Hey guys! Sorry I'm late! Had to steal a shirt... you know to be punk? Ha!

Gwen looks at Mayday: You brought Mayday with you? Peter, she's a baby!

Mayday made a scowl look: BLAH!

Peter: Don't worry we practice! See. Blah! -they did the same expression-

One random guy in his punk outfit saw the two: That's what I'm talking about! BLAH! -he throws a sign of horns with his right hand- fuck society, man and lil one!

Mayday mimics the sign: hehe!

Peter: See! We fit in just fine! -he saw Miles looking over the crowd- What's up with him?

Pav: He's looking for his bf!

Peter: Ah, he's probably in the backstage with those groupies -casually saying-

Miles' eyes widen: Groupies!

Gwen: You know, bandmates always got a few sneaky links or sides. Sometimes fangirls wanting to sleep with their favorite band. -She saw Miles staring at her almost in shock- Not that Hobie will ever do that! You know he's faithful to you!

Pav: Yeah, you two are in a serious relationship!

Miles: We never said that! We just started to date and casually call each other boyfriend. -Something in him began bubbling, like a wave of anger and need-

Gwen: Ohh... Well, Hobie would never do that! You two are-

Some girls came walking pass them with their boobs out having pasties and there was black markers written names on it. One of them being Hobie's name. Peter quickly cover Mayday, who removes his hand to see: Boobies!

Peter: Hey, don't tell your mom! -he tries not to look at the women-

Gwen made a grimacing expression: Um... he's a star so he-

Another girl came by talking to her other friend: I can't believe your ex let you touch his hair! -they saw the blond girl with Hobie's name tattoo on her lower back.-

The other girl giggles: I know! He's so cute. I should've kissed him!

Pav: Ex! See, they are not together! -He frowns seeing a dark look on Miles' face. Something they never saw-

Another guy came almost similar to Miles' height holding Hobie's vest with his guy friend: Hahaha, Hobie is a fucking arse, isn't he?

The guy puts on Hobie's vest: Hahaha, well I got his jacket now!

Peter: Man, it's not looking too good for Hobie, huh Miles? Miles? -they saw him walking to the direction those groups came from-

Mayday: Ah shit!

Peter gasps: Mayday where did you learn that?

Gwen: Come on, let's go before something bad happens!

Pav: Awe, man. I fixed my hair today. Now we gotta tussle?

Miles slid his way through the crowd, at the end he saw a group of people surrounding bands that were about to play for tonight. One of them was Hobie's band. The young Spiderman looks at a crowd of women touching Hobie's arms, hair and face which tick him off. Jealousy bubbling into his stomach that left a nasty taste in his mouth.

Hobie standing trying to endure the fans: Okay. okay, stop touching my hair! I told you many times. -he scowls-

One of the fangirls lift her tank top shirt up to reveal her breasts: Hobie! Hobie, how about an autograph, please? -she cutely pouts-

Hobie sighs: Fine, whatever. Just don't touch my hair. -he only do this to seem like a badass, he didn't see nothing bad of it. He took a marker to write his name on the woman's chest- There! Now -his eyes glances over spotting his boyfriend. All his annoyance washes away and a big smile placed on his face- SUNFLOWER!

Miles merely standing there just witnessing his boyfriend writing his name on a fangirl's boobs. Now he's mad. He said nothing.

Hobie gently pushes his fans away: Excuse me, mate. This is my darling, Miles. -he happily gets to brag about his Sunflower, his hands on his lover's shoulders- Wow, you look amazing, darling. Are you wearing my band's shirt. -his eyes practically shape into hearts- I always-

Miles cut him off: Qué estabas haciendo? -going full blown Puerto Rican Spanish-

Hobie arched his eyebrows: What? -he didn't know much Spanish only a few words like Hola or Sí or Gracias. Just enough to impress or small talk with Mrs. Morales-

Miles scowls: What were you just doing? Que estabas haciendo? -his jealousy already taken over like a virus-

Hobie: Wha-what do you mean? I'm here sign-

Miles cuts him off: No- Qué acabas de hacer, ahora mismo?

Hobies: Ahora? O'Hara? -Why is Miguel brought into this?-

Miles: NO, Pendejo! What did you just did, right now? In front of me! -he's getting so mad, almost jumping into conclusions- You think, that's fucking cute? You think I would like that shit?

Hobie blinks a couple of times being surprised with his partner: Miles, I don-

Gwen calls out: Miles! We thought we lost you!

Pav ran behind along with Peter: Yeah! Oh hey, Hobie!

Hobie turns to their friends: Oh Hey- -Miles grab Hobie's face with his left hand squishing his cheeks, forcing the guitar player to look at him. He formally made Hobie lean/hunched over to get on Miles' eye level-

Miles spoke Spanish again: Estoy hablando contigo? -His Spanish firm, more serious... more Puerto Rican accent to it- Crees estoy jugando contigo? You think this is a fucking joke? -his right hand pointing, wanting his index finger at his boyfriend-

Peter: Ohhh, there's that Puerto Rican side... -Everyone in the group knows, you never want to pissed off a Puerto Rican or any Latino for that matter especially if your in a relationship with one-

Hobie: Luv, I am a bit confused -he mutters through his squish cheeks- I don-

Miles: Puñeta, no puedes escuchar? You got no fucking problem listening to your fans, huh? Huh, I'm not fucking playing with you, Hobie! -He glares still staring at his man-

Gwen softly whispers: Guys... calm down. Everyone is looking at us -the crowd around them were quiet with loud music bashing in the room. The fangirls slowly shift away from Hobie and his boyfriend seeing how mad Miles is-

Miles: Hijo de Puta, estoy hablando! Hobie, I'm fucking talking to you! Why you're not answering me? -Hobie finally sees a lot of Rio in Miles.-

Pav whispers to Hobie: Miles is jealous... he found out you were flirting with your exs...

Miles: Pav, mama bicho. Why are you taking his side, asshole! -he glares at Pav-

Pav backs away with his hands up in defense: I'm just clearing the air, don't have to be mean!

Hobie got the gist of it: Ohhh! -he never knew his boyfriend could get jealous- Luv, I wasn't flirting. Your the only one for me!

Miles: Cabrón, estas jugando comigo? Carajo, mama culo de su putas! -he didn't believe him, he's already too pissed off-

Peter going on his phone looking up Miles' use of language: Ohh, these are not good! -he winced at the use of language-

Pav innocently: What does mama bicho mean?

Peter types it in: Yikes!

Pav looks over and gasps: MILES THATS SO MEAN!

Mayday: Mama bicho!

Peter jumps: Mayday no! That's bad! Bad word! -his daughter laughs out loud-

Hobie: Luv, honest. I just did a simple autograph. I don't care for them. I'm the singer, you gotta understand I have to sign a few tits and deal with them.

Miles scowls: You need to set boundaries! How would you like it if I did that with random people, huh?

Hobie's jealousy sparked: Heh, your not in a band, Morales.

Miles:Ah, see you don't like that. I am your boyfriend -he brought his boyfriend's face closer to him- you need to respect me and my wishes! I am your half, not these bitches! Me estás escuchando? Are you listening me? Do you understand the words I'm saying coming out of my mouth? I am, your boyfriend, tu vida, tu amor!

Hobie couldn't be anymore happier, the amount of jealousy his partner is throwing and claiming his love to him. It felt all to amazing, hearts can be seen around his head. Even his whole body turned pink with magazine words with I love you all over: Yes, luv. I hear you. -he happily listens-

Miles went on: I'm not your fucking friend that you just high five. I'm tu cielo! Tu amor! Not your fucking puta! Yo no soy tu amigo! Yo soy tu cariño, tu bombón, tu CORAZÓN- -Miles touch Hobie's chest- This right here is mine! You hear me! Esto es mío! I'm not playing with you, Hobie! Tu eres mi alma! -still fuming-

Hobie hugs him: Yes, I am. Yes, I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, luv. -he gave in. He didn't care if he was right or wrong. He's too in love with his Sunflower. He would do anything for him- I am everything for you.

Miles huffs happily: Good! Next time, I will kick your ass if you pulled that shit! -he happily got carried by his boyfriend as they make out-

Gwen saw how everyone went back to normal and she sighs: I never thought he would get that mad!

Pav: Yeah, yikes!

Peter: At least, it cool down on their own.

Mayday: MAMA BICHO!

Gwen: MJ is gonna kill you...

Peter sighs: I know, maybe I can be like Hobie and give in!

Pav: Mmm, I don't think so!

[neon-junkie]

Chef!Crosshair x Server!Reader Headcanons

This has been stuck in my drafts for a while, so I figured I'd tidy it up, and hit post. Reader is gender-neutral. 2k words. I think Crosshair would deffo be a chef in a modern setting! A little self indulgent as I'm a bartender/server... hehehehe...

Crosshair isn't quite the top dog, but second in line. Still, he runs the kitchen, and Maker forbids anybody to step out of line when Crosshair is on shift.

Or in general, for that matter. Crosshair has no problem breaking one of his chefs down to tears if they forget one simple task, like day dotting food stock, or ensuring that the fridges are at the correct temperature.

"A baby could do this job better than you. Why can't you pull your karking socks up, and get some sense through your thick skull?!"

Crosshair is a big meanie, to put it blankly. He has respect for those who do their job right, but if you're acting like an idiot in his kitchen, then all hell will break loose.

He's snappy to the front of house staff, too. Including the servers. Didn't scrape the plates enough? That deserves a telling off. Rushing him for orders? Fuck off. And if you dare steal a chip? Might as well die.

Crosshair doesn't like mess, clutter, or laziness, and everybody knows damn well how much it irritates him. Just don't be stupid, essentially.

Anyway, you've applied to this popular street food style restaurant. It's not posh, far from it. The food is fatty and filling, the perfect hangover cure, and you're guilty of being a regular.

The Manager, Hunter, doesn't seem surprised when you apply, and your interview is essentially a chit-chat, getting to know each other, seeing as you've already met from coming in on the regular.

It's finally time for you to put your uniform on, and be introduced to the rest of the staff. Everybody is lovely, to say the least, as you've met them before from being a customer.

Then you go into the back of house, and meet those who have blessed your stomach time and time again.

Hunter's eyes trail the kitchen before he asks, "where's Cross?" and another staff member shrugs whilst replying, "out the back."

Hunter, after letting out a grumble, leads you to the back entrance, explaining that this is the staff smoking area. Just as he's about to step outside, the door opens, and a tired-looking man in pristine chef's whites stands in the doorway.

He lets out another puff of his cigarette before discarding it, only to choke on the smoke as his eyes meet yours. His hand comes up to clear his throat, and you notice the tattoos and burn marks scattered over his toned arms. He's clear of jewellery, but you instantly know he's the type to wear rings and chains when he's off shift.

"Cross, I want to introduce you to our new server," Hunter pulls his gaze from yours, and after saying your name, Crosshair fails to make eye contact with you.

Only now do you notice his face tattoo, darkly contrasting against his silver hair. Is it dyed? Or is he really this stressed out from his job?

"Nice to meet you," Crosshair mutters as he extends his hand, and shakes yours. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have stock to count."

And with that, he's pushing past you and Hunter, disappearing into the kitchen.

Hunter turns back to you with a sigh, "he doesn't talk much. Not a fan of strangers, but I'm sure he'll warm up to you."

Oh, how right Hunter is.

Your first week went well, and you're slowly starting to establish a place for yourself within your new work environment.

Today is your usual weekday shift. Not too busy, but not slow paced either. The lunch rush has finished, and you're tasked with cleaning up tables. Another stack of plates is brought into the kitchen, and you're going through them one by one, scraping the leftovers into the bin before stacking them on the shelves for the pot washer to clean, when he's back from his cigarette break.

You can feel somebody's eyes on the back of your head, practically burning a hole through your skull. Curious, you peer over your shoulder, and lock eyes with Crosshair.

He's attempting to prep some vegetables, and narrowly misses his finger whilst chopping them, his gaze fixated elsewhere. Only, once your eyes meet his, Crosshair looks back to his task, acting as if he wasn't just staring at you.

So, you turn away, only to look back at him when his voice fills the air.

"It's nice to have some competence around here," Crosshair comments. You let out a soft "hm?" so Crosshair continues. "Most of the other servers leave their plates a mess, barely scraped, stacked in the wrong order. It's nice to have a server who knows how to do their job."

"It's not like it's hard," you say with a shrug.

"Exactly," Crosshair looks back up at you, and you notice the upwards turn to his lips.

You return to your task after matching his smile, and you're both content with the silence in the air.

Once finished, it's time for your break. Whilst you would usually ring your staff food through without a second thought, you decide to ask Crosshairs permission first.

"Hey, I know you're doing prep, but do you mind if I ring my food through? I can wait if-"

"-What would you like, Sweetheart?" Crosshair asks, wiping his hands clean as he makes his way over to the grill.

"Uhm… a burger?" your mind falls blank, mostly because you're not used to having a chef seem this happy with cooking.

"Is that it?" Crosshair raises his brow. "Come on, you can come up with something more creative than that. Tell me what toppings you like."

Before you know it, you're going into depth about exactly how you like your burgers. All the while, Crosshair is nodding in agreement, and even chimes in with comments here and there. You soon ring your order up, and whilst waiting for it to cook, you return to cleaning your tables, all whilst your heart is pounding with butterflies in your chest.

Back in the kitchen, Crosshair catches himself smiling as he cooks your meal. He doesn't even realise how sappy he's being until he squirts the burger sauce onto the bun in the shape of a heart, soon to be hidden by a patty cooked to your liking.

"What's got you all cheery?" Hunter questions as he peers in the kitchen, bewildered at Crosshairs content expression.

Crosshair slips his emotional mask back on as he meets his brother's eyes, "just excited for my cigarette break."

One month into your new job, and you're more than happy here. The customers are nice, your coworkers are great, and the food is to die for!

Sure, you're in the honeymoon phase, but you'll enjoy it whilst it lasts.

Crosshair is slowly opening up to you, but he's been the toughest egg to crack. Whilst everybody else has no issue with jumping straight into conversation, Crosshair tends to keep his mouth shut, minus the odd hum and one-word reply here and there.

Only, you've seen him speak to others. Well, not speak… scream! Crosshair has no issue with shouting at his cooks over the smallest of things. He's even barked at the other servers, too. You know that he's overall disliked within the workplace, but sometimes, you can understand Crosshairs point of view.

He's right. It's not hard to do your job right, keep your area tidy, and be efficient. Maker knows how your co-workers manage to screw the smallest of things up, and sure, you've made mistakes here and there, and always bent over backwards to fix them.

But despite Crosshair's tough demeanour, deep down, he's a real sap. Or at least, he is towards you.

You've noticed that you can get away with certain things, such as nibbling on a few leftover chips whilst waiting for orders to be plated up, or using different abbreviations when ringing up orders.

You didn't even realise that wasn't the norm, until a fellow coworker commented, "Crosshair lets you eat the leftover fries? He swatted my hand away when I tried to do that, just like everybody else."

Maybe it's because you bring Crosshair a cup of coffee to his liking at the start of every shift? Or because you always let out comments here and there about how good the food is presented?

Maybe it's just because Crosshair has a thing for you, as much as he denies it. You are his favourite server, but Maker forbid that anybody knows, despite it being painfully obvious.

Obvious to everyone, but you.

You finally catch on during one stressful shift. A customer, as cursed as they are, broke you down to tears. You remained stiff lipped whilst taking a beating, but the second you entered the back of house, tears started rolling down your cheeks.

Hunter takes the burden of the customer off your shoulders, and orders you to go and take a moment to yourself out back.

The fire exit door swings open, and you storm out, holding back a choked sob as you take a seat on one of the many empty crates resting against the building.

Your head falls into your hands, elbows resting on your knees, and finally alone, you begin to cry.

Only, you're not alone. Crosshair is on the other side of the door, back resting against the wall with a forgotten cigarette pressed between his fingers. He can hear you crying, and after swallowing his feelings, and allowing them to settle in his uneasy stomach, he discards his cigarette and decides to approach you.

"Customers, huh?" Crosshair questions as he takes a seat beside you, not bothering to ask if you need a friend. He knows damn well that you do.

A series of incoherent words fall from your lips, but Crosshair can piece them together. You're venting about what just happened, mumbling and babbling away, blowing off steam with your favourite chef by your side.

In the midst of offloading your anger, Crosshair decides to weave his arm around your shoulders, and gently pull you into his grasp.

He doesn't even realise what he's done until your head comes to rest on his shoulder, lashes fluttering against his sensitive Adams apple, still venting away whilst a hand caresses your shoulder and back.

"And you wonder why I work in the kitchen," Crosshair comments, earning a laugh from you.

"Maybe I should switch, and start working in the kitchen with you," you say with a light chuckle.

Despite his stomach turning at the idea, Crosshair puts on a smile as he replies, "that wouldn't be so bad. I'm sure I could put up with you."

"Put up with me?" you repeat with a gasp, straightening your back to meet his eyes. All Crosshair does is give you a shrug, with a cheeky grin on his lips. "Phfft, I'd be the one putting up with you. I've seen how you bark at your chefs," you continue.

"I don't bark," Crosshair says with a playful glare. "I bite."

You can't help but let out a laugh, soon returning your head to his shoulder. "You wouldn't bite me," you boast.

Crosshair allows his cheek to rest against the top of your head. "I might do," he says eagerly, "but only if you waste stock."

"Oh, I'd definitely burn a burger or two," you admit, knowing damn-well that you're a riot in the kitchen.

In the midst of your nattering, Hunter makes his way through the back of house to find you, knowing that you're taking a breather outside.

Only he stops once he overhears your voice, and a certain chef talking to you.

Smiling to himself, Hunter decides that you don't need him - you have somebody else to take care of you, somebody who has been eager to talk to you, but is far more timid than he lets on.

Hunter's little plan is going smoothly, now that Crosshair is finally speaking to you, rather than keeping to himself in the kitchen.

After all, Crosshair is the main reason why you were hired. It's his own fault, drunkenly admitting that he thought a certain regular customer was attractive, and definitely his type.

Fate took its course, and Hunter found your CV in his pile only a few days later.

You were beyond perfect for the job, and maybe, just maybe, you'll be even better for a certain chef.

[kil-luna]

You've always liked Bakugou, ever since day one.

It was definitely weird. Your friends thought so as well. But there was something attractive about him that you couldn't pin point yourself. Maybe it was his looks. Maybe it was his complete opposite nature to yours. Maybe it was his drive.. his larger than life dream to become the number one.

And maybe his proclamations of his goal became a little bit too much that it influenced you to the point where you wanted to become the number one too. His number one.

But that doesn't really sound as easy as it is to say. You wonder how he is always so sure of himself; shouting those words over and over again at anyone who comes his way.

You knew it was pointless, so you never acted on this urge. You wanted to. But it surely wasn't easy for you, trying to hold back. But if there's anything that's easy, it was becoming his friend.

You have realized that Katsuki didn't really had friends. He might have had kids following him around when he was in pre-school up to middle school.. but those weren't really people that he could call his friends. And you're glad that now he had Kirishima and the others. Especially you. You're glad you were his friend.

Because Katsuki was a nice person to form a friendship with. Yes, he doesn’t offer the same typical kind friendship many of us are thinking about, of course, because it is Katsuki we are talking about. But he is special in his own way. He cares about yall’s grades. He will help you get high marks, even if he has to beat the lessons in your skull. He cooks for you people, even if begrudgingly. He also shouts insults to the lot of you; which, a lot of people would consider as something that's rude and terrible, but being around him long enough has made you realize that he is all bark no bite when it comes to insults. Lately, you've even wondered if it's just his way of making people realize where they suck at; so that they can improve.

You see, Katsuki cares for his friends. He loves them his own way. So you don't let it get to you when you notice that he talks to you in a softer voice than everybody else. You try not to think about it when he especially focuses on you in group study sessions. You think you're delusional when you notice that he doesn't really throw that much insults to you as he does the others. Or when he steals glances at you in class. Or when he looks for you first whenever disasters happen, wanting to make sure you are safe. Or when he hugged you tightly when you came back after recovery girl treated you after the villain attack. Or when he almost lost it when Todoroki confessed to you last week.

It drives you crazy. Because you liked Katsuki. But you were also his friend. And he has a dream; To be the number one. That didn't include you and your feelings. That dream was something he wanted since he was a child, so you knew he had no time for you.

Katsuki Bakugou doesn't have time for you. So you ran.

The moment you realized that being friends while liking him was impossible, you decided that it's best to avoid him. But Katsuki didn't exactly had the same idea as you. That's why he is in front of your room, hands in his pocket, staring right into your beautiful eyes.

"What the he— what.. is your problem?" huh? This is so out of character. You have never fancied him to be this type of guy. He certainly wasn't that person who confronts you just because you are avoiding him.

You were taking to long to answer and it was agonizing for him. "I am asking you, what did I do?"

You loathed yourself in that moment. He naturally assumed that it was his fault. He thought he did something. He thought he was the one to blame.

"It wasn't.. it wasn't you, I'm—"

"Yeah, right. You can just say you don't like me around, dumbass. It's not that hard to tell the truth." he cuts you off, preparing to leave. "You don't have to avoid shitty hair and dunce face too. I'll stop." this time, he wasn't looking at you anymore.

"It's not that! Hey, don't lea—"

"Just fucking sleep already."

"I like you!"

It was so loud you think the others who were in their room heard as well.

"Haah? Then why the fuck are you avoiding me like a plague? Last time I checked, you don't avoid people you like!"

"I know. But.. but then, it's because I thought... you didn't have time for this. And I don't think you like me anyway. So I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to bother you so I wanted to avoid you while I sort out my feelings."

"Well you are being stupid. What is there even to sort out? We both know you suck at that. You can't even fucking sort out the damn trash. I always have to do it for you! And do I have to spell it out to you too that I... do.. not hate you! Learn how to read people!"

It was funny, really. How he couldn't even tell it straight to your face that he liked you. Bakugou Katsuki liked you.

"It's.. its just that, I thought you didn't have.. time for.. wait what? So you like me too?"

"You dumbass. Are you really saying I can't handle my time properly? You think I can't do something as simple as that?!"

Turns out, it was easy for Bakugou to do these kinds of things. You didn't have to worry.

[blooming-violets]

Ik this is a dark ask but you said that you enjoy angst...What if Peter was suicidal? Couple years after Ben & Gwen and he generally just doesn't want to live anymore thinking it would be best if he just died? If he did have a significant other would she have to talk him from of the ledge once or twice? Again you really don't have to answer this if you don't want to. I'm not trying to glorify suicide or depression at all. I think you're a great writer and would be the best equipped for this type of subject matter

I don't think it's too dark! Not for me, at least. This is right up my alley and very much something I believe Peter would be going through with his guilt. Talking about and writing about suicide and suicidal tendencies and depression in fiction are not glorifying the topic. You're allowed to express yourself and write/read anything you please, no matter the topic. Don't forget that!<3

Trigger Warnings: this is a short angst drabble about depression, self harm, and suicidal tendencies, mentions of self harm include (burning self in shower, standing under freezing shower, cutting skin, burning on stove), gory details about Gwen's death are described

The water scalded his skin. 

It was as hot as his apartment shower would allow it to go. 

His palms were pressed against the wet wall in front of him in a braced stance with his head hung low. He held his back under the liquid fire through clenched teeth. 

Feel the pain. Consume him. Until there was nothing left. 

Let it burn through his flesh, let it melt away his muscles, and dissolve his spine until he was nothing but a steaming pile of visceral, bloody goop. 

What’s the point of anything? 

Peter’s pale skin turned red under the water. The bite of burning agony was everything he wanted. He could stay here forever to let his skin slowly melt from his body. 

And he did. 

At least, until the hot water ran out and ice replaced the heat. It was then that he allowed himself to lay down. Curled up under the stream. Cocooned by the dirty tub walls. The change of temperature sent his body in shock. Pools of icy water sloshed around his body. This hole in the wall apartment never had good drainage. It was filthy and broken just like him.

The cold overtook him much like the heat had. It held a different kind of burning bite but one he relished in. 

It numbed his blistering back until he felt nothing. There was no more pain. His mind slowed to a sluggish pace. His blue lips trembled along with his chattering teeth. 

His eyes closed. Here in the shower, he could find a peace he never could outside of it. 

“Peter!” 

The water halted. 

A towel was being thrown over him. Stealing him from his safety. He was so close. Just a little longer. That’s all he needed. Just a little longer and he could finally be free. 

“What are you doing?” 

She knew what he was doing. It wasn’t the first time she had found him in some sorry state. Whether he was beaten to a pulp and laid out on the street, slicing off parts of his flesh with a rusty x-acto knife he stole off some petty thief, holding his hand over the open flames of his stove, or teetering off the edge of a skyscraper. She knew exactly what he was doing. 

He was forcing his body to reflect the pain he felt on the inside. 

Because when he looked in the mirror, his reflection didn’t speak the truth. He looked too whole. His body was intact. It wasn’t broken or damaged like he felt. It was lying to him. 

When he closed his eyes, he saw her blood still coating his hands. It had soaked through the Spider-Man gloves. It had sunk into his skin and dried in cracks along the lines of his palm. He didn’t need a palm reader to know that he was cursed. There was blood on his hands. Blood that could never be washed off. No amount of showers could erase her from his skin. 

It didn’t stop him from trying. 

The tender break in her skull haunted him. He had pressed his hand against the back of her head like he had held her so many times when she was alive. His fingers had sunk into the fragmented hole in her skull, accidentally coming in contract with the fleshy softness of her brain. Her beautifully, intelligent brain. Smartest woman in his class. Future scientist, Gwen Stacy. 

Gwendolyne Maxine Stacy, deceased. 

Cracked open her skull and spilled her brains across the ground because he was too slow. Neck snapped by his own web. Spine severed in two. He had failed her. She trusted him. She believed in him. And he had let her die. 

He didn’t deserve to live. 

“Peter, get up!” 

She was leaning over him, her sleeves were getting soaked in the pool of ice water around him as she tugged at his arm. 

Get up. 

Gwen never got up. Why should he be allowed to get up? 

This was where he belonged. Naked and broken. Surrounded by ice. 

“Peter, please…stay with me…Peter! Please! I can’t…I can’t live without you…get up…don’t you do this.” 

He could hear the tears thickening her voice and choking back sobs. He knew those words. He knew those cries. Pleading. Begging. 

He couldn’t let her feel like him. He couldn’t do that. He knew this pain too well. He couldn’t spread it forward. It was his to keep. His to hold onto. He couldn’t let it slip out of his grasp to someone else. Not to her. 

That’s why he never finished the job. 

He could push himself right to the edge but never take that final leap. It was his selfish burden to bear. He would carry it until the end of time. 

He opened his eyes.

For her.

Because he had already ruined one lover's life. 

Because he couldn’t ruin another's.

If you liked this and want more of this topic, I think you would really enjoy my one shot Nicest Thing.