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And if you kick out every mentally ill, neurodivergent, queer student forced into advanced ELA in the 9th grade, then who's gonna read your novel, MARY SHELLEY?

[vipvesper]

tatta dating headcanons

pairing: tatta kōdai x reader

contains: silly romance, spoilers for aib, character inaccuracies whoops, physical and g4n v!ol3nc3

you and tatta met during tag, 5♤!

he was freaking out, crouched behind a wall as he was being shot at, and you were rolling with arisu’s gang

arisu scooped him up, and stuck him with you

after your visa was issued, you hung with him for no reason other than “he makes me laugh.”

together, you two were somehow recruited to the beach! how romantic

bustling days were spent in eachother’s company, you occasionally helping tatta repair cars

he loves to teach you about car parts and repairs! he thinks its cute when you ask questions about what makes a car work and how to fix it

plus working together on something that matters to him makes his heart flutter

he also likes to feel useful!

tatta himself, though he’s cautious, can be rather curious

if you mention a hobby of your from before the borderlands he’ll ask you questions until he knows everything about it

like a sport? tell him every position, every great player!

like an instrument? tell him each fingering and your favorite song to play!

soon enough, he asked you to be his partner (to which you agreed <3)

when other people check you out on the beach, he gets rather envious, but knows he can’t do anything about it

sometimes he wonders if he’s good enough to be with you

being with you, he’s gotten pretty good at communicating how he feels

one night, after a game, he opened up to you about his emotions and it was so worth it!

you peppered his face with kisses—which he has grown to adore)—and assured him that he was absolutely 100% good enough

he likes to braid your hair

no reason, he simply likes the motion

very rarely, kuina will teach him a new type of braid, and he’ll keep trying until he gets it right

after the 10♡ game, he decided that he would take a bullet for you any day

a/n

ok guys… saying a fic would be out soon was a lie. that was 5 months ago. since then i’ve entered many many new fandoms, so there’ll be headcannons and drabbles for them as well! i hope so, anyways.

tatta isn’t the character i’ve decided to latch to in aib, so these might be a little iffy. watch out for chishiya 😛

[vipvesper]

sorry i disappeared yall, new fic soon 😝

[vipvesper]

heyy so can you do a clarisse x reader fic where they have like rivalry?

major h8r

pairing: clarisse la rue x reader

warnings: clarisse, mentions of bullying, some low-grade tajin level spice

word count: 890+

"next time you won't be so lucky."

"Dude, you can't keep letting her pick on you like that," preaches Luke as the two of you sit on a rock. What happened, you may ask? You decided it would be a good idea to give into Clarisse after she relentlessly harassed begged you. Rather than actually focusing on technique during your spar, she took the opportunity to beat the Hades out of you. “She’s a bully.”

White bandages slip out of your grasp as you feebly attempt to wrap your wound. While ambrosia and nectar would've done the job, you're wary with consumption as to not burn to a crisp. Luke takes your hand, doing it for you. Contempt swirls in his oak-hued eyes, he knows you're better than this.

"I shouldn't have believed her when she said she wanted to improve her technique. I let my guard down," you mutter. Annabeth tuts, turning to face the entrance of the woods. “She may be a little… rough around the edges, but she’s not a bad person.”

"You'd think that someone like you would notice that she is," she states, blunt as ever.

"Helpful input, Annabeth.”

"It's the truth." The girl shrugs, fresh braids (courtesy of you) draped down her back.

"Thanks for the help, guys," you say, clapping an injured hand over Luke's shoulder. "But I have to get going. Camp won't run itself."

"But it literally will--"

You're already out of range by the time either of them can make any sort of protest. As you walk through the dirt paths, surveying the behaviors of the campers that are out and about, a familiar stomping sound approaches. Great. Clarisse.

Before you can turn to face her, an angry fist hits you over the head.

"You idiot! Why didn't you tell me you fight like a toddler? I would've gone easy," she jabs your side rather hard, forcing you to fold in on yourself. "Can't have Chiron's favorite in the infirmary. It'd be a shame if you shriveled up and died from an ambrosia overdose." You simply brush her off, having much more important things to do. “C’mon, dude, you suck at swordfighting!”

“Why are you talking to me?”

The question seems to catch her off guard. Her playful stance shifts to one fueled by anger at your comment.

“Cuz who else here is stupid as you?” The girl scoffs, built arms crossed over her overly toned chest. This isn’t even fair.

“Goodbye, Clarisse,” You roll your eyes, hiking up the stairs of the Big House, shutting it behind you.

Darkness creeps into the corner of your visions as you lay in your bunk, eyes trained on the ceiling. The snores of your siblings fill the room, coupled with the shuffling of blankets. Just as you near dreamland, a loud thunk on your window jolts you awake. You grab the weapon under your pillow, startled. You groan, seeing the culprit. Clarisse stands at your window, eyes shifting around.

Reluctantly, you let her tumble into the cabin, forcing her to silence.

“Shh, you’re gonna wake them up.” She simply laughs, kicking her shoes off, and dropping into your bed. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Your voice is nothing more than a whisper, quiet as a breeze.

“Missed ya’.” The daughter of Ares snickers, grabbing your tired form and dragging you down with her.

“You can’t keep breaking into my cabin,” you insist, but she doesn’t listen. The two of you lay side by side, simply enjoying eachother’s company. “You’re like… too calm.” Clarisse snorts, curls draped over your blankets

“Shut up. Next time you won’t be so lucky. I’m exhausted from beating your ass all day.” She grabs you by the collar, planting an uncharacteristically gentle kiss on your cheek. Heat blooms in your face, creeping up your neck and touching your ears.

“Oh. Wow.”

She moves quick, tackling you in a kiss—this time on the lips. A hint of cherry chapstick touches your tastebuds as your situationship pulls away. It’s a fleeting feeling, her lips on yours, and you simply can’t get enough. She chuckles upon seeing the look on your face.

“I hate your stupid face.” Clarisse’s sudden words are laced with laughter, her fingertips gently brushing over the dip of your nose and the apples of your reddened cheeks.

Her pretty dark eyes stare into yours, thumbing over a bruise she left from sparring.

“Doesn’t seem it.”

The brutish girl props herself on her elbow, staring down at you with her gorgeous eyes, darkest browns dotted with celestial bronze, swirled with imperial gold in the low light.

She tucks a loose tuft of hair behind your ear, leaving down again to deliver another gentle kiss. “Mmh,” she hums, warm tongue prodding for entry. Warm summer air blows in, the window left agape. The scent of the strawberry fields and the last embers of the latest fire mix to form a pleasant smell, bathing the cabin.

Clarisse’s calloused hand cups your jaw, her tongue slipping into your mouth. The air between you only gets thicker, forcing the duo up for a quick breath.

“Thought you didn’t like the French,” you jest, deciding this is the time to poke fun—since you won’t end up with a goose egg. She shoves you around for a bit.

“Shut up. Stupid teacher’s pet.” She captures you in another kiss, fingers intertwined like the stars and the sky.

a/n

i got pretty distracted, so this is less of a rivalry and more of a secret relationship 😔

[vipvesper]

this ate… might have to write for it…

Current people on instruments and concept of the AU:

Apollo is the sassy choir teacher

Austin is the band teacher (he helps the saxophone section a lot)

Band kids so far:

Annabeth on French horn

Jason on Clarinet + trumpet

Leo on trumpet + trombone

Piper with percussion

Octavian on flute + has vocals (soprano) 😻

Will on Guitar

Frank on Tuba

Orchestra kids:

Hazel on violin + viola

Nico on cello

Choir kids:

Frank as a tenor

Concept:

So, they’re students at half blood school (k-12 + has a college nearby.) the kids in orchestra are at war with the kids in band, it’s slightly so bad so instead of orchestra being 5th period, it’s now 3rd, choir that was once 3rd period is now 5th, band that was 6th period is still 6th period. They’re most definitely gonna go to concerts, and this will most likely JS be a silly au with little to no angst (that’s a lie :3) anyways, choir is off to the side (+ some of the people from orchestra and band) being like “wtf?”

I need a name for the AU though, currently the only name we have now is “The Water’s Melody.”

I love this au ahhhhh

[vipvesper]

all is fair in love and war

pairing: octavian x child of bacchus!reader

warnings: octavian 😞, pining, minor cursing, spoilers for son of neptune!!

word count: 1.3k+

“i wish reyna would let me strangle you.”

Octavian? You hate him for the most part. You hate the storm swirling above the Temple of Jupiter that crackles with electricity as another teddy bear augury is completed. You hate the way his piercing blue eyes mock you from behind Reyna as you sit at a Centurion’s meeting. You hate his insane laughter that echoed in your ears 6 years ago when he mutilated your stuffed animal. You roll your eyes. Dakota’s red-ringed lips lazily speak orders to the Fifth Cohort, but nobody’s listening. We’re gonna soften the defenses. Again. Great. As if the looks on our faces afer stepping away from the Officer’s conference wasn’t bad enough, Dakota’s speech isn’t helping. He squeezes a packet of Kool-Aid.

“Listen, guys. This is gonna be a good one, I can feel it!” You take charge, opting to do the talking. “Hazel and Frank, I know you guys are still on the new side, but I think you can do this. First row, create a shield wall with Dakota as you advance to soften the blow. Second row from Cecil over, hide behind the shields to fight off any advancing defenses. The other twelve, try to sneak around the flanks and find a way in.” A smile pulls at your lips, moving your brother aside. “Let’s move out, troops! Victory for the Fifth!”

The child army echoes your cheer as your ranks break. A looming wall stands in front of you, cohorts three and four standing guard behind. How do we see past the wall? When it’s so tall? “I suppose we’re acting as bait again,” you murmur to Dakota.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Hannibal’s all ready?” You inquire, wanting to make sure your cohort gets the win they deserve. He nods, grabbing another juice out of his pocket.

The war games start, Reyna hovering overhead with Scipio. A circle of eagles fly in tandem with her, awaiting injury. You tag along with the twelve soldiers, attempting to find a crack in the wall, an unguarded plate. A tug pulls in your stomach, long green vines pushing out of the ground of the Field of Mars. Branches split off to grab your cohort, gently placing my teammates over the wall. It’s a struggle to keep Hazel and Frank quiet as they’re plopped right into enemy territory. The sounds of swords clashing rings out before you can even climb up yourself.

As you drop down, armor clinking together, the vines recede to leave a small scar in the earth. Wide blue eyes immediately stare back at you, coupled with the golden glint of a spatha. Great. Octavian’s here. Can’t give him a chance to think, you remind yourself. Your gladius makes a nice noise as you remove it from its sheath, pressing the flat against his smaller weapon. Before long, he’s disarmed. Unfortunately for you, he immediately starts to squawk, alerting any soldiers who might’ve still been preoccupied by their Mythomagic tournament.

“Backup! I need backup!” The lanky blonde yells, fumbling for his secondary weapon. A stray arrow whizzes past your ear as you lunge, grabbing him by his shoulder.

“Fifth cohort, for the colors!” Jonathan and Frank rush for their emblem, narrowly dodging flying furniture. Hazel’s backed into a corner by a First cohort member, her golden eyes filled with determination.

But, Tyche really isn’t on your side, is she?

A last minute elephant mishap knocks your troops away from the battlefield, wiping the scoreboard clean. Eagles swoop down to snatch up a good portion of the teenage militia.

You sit on a stone wall overlooking the city of New Rome, holding an icepack to your cheek. Guess Octavian had gotten you after all. A sigh rolls past your lips. The win was so close, it was right there. Bandages wrap around any minor cuts you may have acquired during the game. The all-too familiar crinkle of a Kool-Aid pouch makes you assume that Dakota had finally found you.

A rather soft object hits the back of your head.

It’s a freaking Kool-Aid packet. Grape flavored, at that.

“Wouldn’t Reyna like to know that her favorite Centurion is throwing a fit over a loss? What a sore loser,” a sarcastic voice jests. You grit your teeth, turning to face Octavian.

Curse him and his skinny body, his stupidly gorgeous blue eyes, his unblemished skin—

Woah.

Where did that come from?

“I’m looking for ways to better myself for my cohort. Not like you’d know anything about self-reflection,” You scoff. Much to your chagrin, the augur sits beside you. Phoebus Apollo rides close to the horizon, signaling the nearing arrival of dinnertime. “Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t,” he smirks. He looks quite stupid with those stuffed animals hanging from his belt, in your opinion. Seven stripes burn on his forearm under the symbol of an eagle, much like your own. His loose white toga hangs off his clothed shoulders. The sun radiates onto his pale skin, bathing him in a warm glow. Cocky bastard. He knows he’s pretty. “Do you have a staring problem?”

You snap back to reality real quick.

“No, I don’t.” You turn your head away, embarrassed. You weren’t staring, were you? Small vines decorated by bundles of purple grapes pop up around you, encircling the area. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or would you just like to gloat.”

Octavian reclines, pressing his hands on the green grass behind him. He picks a grape, tossing it at your temple. “I’m simply encouraging your improvement,” he teases.

“I wish Reyna would let me strangle you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

As you look out at the sunset, you don’t notice his eyes on you. You don’t notice the way his gaze trails over the bridge of your nose and your freckles and the rosy hue covering your cheeks like he’s committing the way you look at dusk to memory.

“Pretty night, huh?”

That’s unusual. Octavian making small talk?

“Yeah, it is.”

“You weren’t too bad today,” he mutters, very clearly avoiding his gaze. It’s very much unlike him to butter you up, even if he wants something.

“Thanks?” you tilt your head, confused by his praise. Should you be offended?

The two of you look out at the little Tiber rolling over the hills, basking in the golden hue painting the heavens. A long, cold hand drapes over yours eventually, gently squeezing. You jolt away, face pink as the clouds in the sky.

“The Pluto?!”

“Shut up.” He shoves something in your lap, and for a second you think it’s a grenade of Greek fire, set to explode as soon as he’s out of range. Tyche must feel sorry for her absence earlier.

A soft green material, as green as the grass, sits against your thighs, a happy smile staring up at you. It can’t be. A fuzzy memory returns to you, a feeling of nostalgia washing over you. A frog plush from long ago. Stitches a bit darker than the original fuzzy fabric reach from seam to seam, head to toe.

“What—?”

“Seriously, shut up. I found it tucked away, thought you’d like to see it again before it gets sacrificed to the gods again.”

You scoop up the piece of your childhood in your free hand, eyes wide as the cosmos. Before that little smirk on Octavian’s face can grow any further, a cold, hard object smacks him right across the face, sending him reeling.

“What the—?!”

“You little dick,” you huff, placing the icepack on the ground. “Thanks, I guess.”

He smiles—a real smile, however small—as he stares into your eyes. “You’re very welcome, love.” His alabaster face is painted red.

You shake your head, amused. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

Like a scene from a fairytale, his hand snakes its way onto your waist, the proximity only forcing more of your father’s fruit out of the ground.

“Like I’d listen to you,” he chides.

You lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

“I really am irresistible.”

“Shut up, you’re ruining the moment.”

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octavian x reader in route…

[vipvesper]

Riding the tokoyami train, can I request general headcanons about dating Tokoyami, plus maybe a little extra about the reader being epileptic, If you’re comfortable with that?

Much love ❤️

tokoyami dating headcanons!

you two met in kindergarten

(definitely not a reference to the first fic)

you threw a rock at him and stuck around ever since <3

he likes to hold you when you sit in his room

tokoyami writes poetry while you read tumblr LMAO

he’s made a habit of preening you

like you’ll be cuddling and suddenly his beak is in your hair

you got him a cologne for his birthday and he’s been wearing it ever since

“oh you like how i smell? [name] got me this cologne.”

dark shadow finds little rocks on the ground to give you

since fumikage cares for you, he decided he should, too!

if you sneak up on fumikage, his feathers puff up but he’ll deny it ever happens

texts in riddles

if you have a medical condition like epilepsy, he knows exactly how to deal with oncoming seizures

helps you out by having you write notes to combat bouts of forgetfulness

reminds you to take your meds (if you have any)

likes to make you some of yaomomo’s fancy teas when you get hurt during training

or if you burn yourself in the support course

or give yourself a gray hair being in the business course

secretly likes when you kiss his beak

fumikage writes poetry for your anniversaries and has a page in his notebook of all your favorite stuff!! so cute!

you guys go on plenty of simple dates on the weekends like picnics in the park and watchint the sunset

he loves you very, very much!

note:

i’m so sorry if the epilepsy things are inaccurate, i based it on real life experiences and accounts from someone i know with the condition!

[vipvesper]

the thrill of the hunt

pairing: fumikage tokoyami x cat quirk!reader

warnings: none!! :3

“sorry i pounced on you, just the thrill of the hunt!”

Children chatter in the courtyard, the sounds of dozens of conversations moving in sync with cheerful laughter. Ah, kindergarten. Those are the days.

Rather than playing with your friends or digging in the mud, your sharp eyes lock on a small, black figure—wait, no, two. The familiar caw of a raven comes from the one that floats, and you know you simply have to catch it. Staying low to the ground, you stalk.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

The kid-sized bird comes into view as you round the large oak tree it leans against. In one large leap, you tackle the book right out of a pair of remarkably human hands. Wait.

“Gotcha!” You exclaim, grabbing the oversized bird by the shoulders. This definitely isn’t right… Your eyes drift up to meet another pair.

“I would appreciate if you would unhand me,” requests Tokoyami. Whoops.

“Sorry!” Sharp claws retract back into normal nails as you back away, sitting on the plush green grass. “Thought you were a bird!”

The avian child stands up, brushing the glass clippings off his clothes. “It’s quite alright.” The shadow trailing from his stomach cowers behind him, big yellow eyes filled with fear. “Dark Shadow, it’s okay. It’s just [name].” Tokoyami’s gaze shifts back to you. “I’d prefer if you didn’t hunt me again in the future.”

But, things don’t go his way very often.

Tokoyami sits in his dorm staring at his phone. The gentle glow is a stark contrast to the foreboding aura of his room. He doesn’t notice the strip of yellow light push through the room, or the way his door opens without the hinges creaking. He doesn’t notice how you creep across the floor, the boards never squeaking. He certainly doesn’t notice the way your eyes gleam as they lock on his face. By the time he does, it’s too late. Your freshly-sharpened claws barely pierce his shirt, trapping him to his bed. Tokoyami’s feathers puff out in all directions like a porcupine.

“Gotcha, Fumi!” You gloat, giggling from your feat. The boy groans, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“You really need to stop doing this, my love.” You shake your head, tail swishinng mischievously behind you

“Sorry I pounced on you, just the thrill of the hunt!” Tokoyami wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

He sighs, “I’m starting to believe you will never grow out of this habit of yours.”

“I don’t think I will either, birdbrain.”

[vipvesper]

requests are open btwww

also tokoyami x reader on the way? 👀

[vipvesper]

DEADPOOL MAKING A DABI REFERENCE

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izuku x the voices in his head

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jin bubaigawara nobody could ever make me hate you 😞

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watching mha rn and midoriya is constantly getting GRAY HAIRS from todoroki and bakugou during endeavor’s work study omg 😭

[vipvesper]

I WILL SELL MY SOUL FOR SOME OCTAVIAN/READER FANFIC

[vipvesper]

villainy and heroism

pairing: luke castellan x reader

warnings: spoilers for ‘the last olympian’, major character death, angst with no comfort, amateur writing 😞

“i’ll always love you.”

Chaos. Blood. War. Grief. It pains you to see the carnage that surrounds you. It pains you to think that your Luke, the one that would bandage your knees when you scraped them, spills blood like water. It pains you to see him like this, too blinded by rage to think of who he’s become.

“A hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.”

A bronze dagger, bound by a broken promise of refuge, drives into Luke’s skin, embedding itself into his flesh. His eyes fill with tears as he slowly drags the knife out, letting it fall to the marbled ground. Red paints the ivory floor, scattered debris circling the pantheon. He stares up at you, heterochromatic eyes fading back to normalcy as his face begins to pale. Silence fills the room as Luke crumbles to the floor. A villain, a hero, a son, and a man. Atropos readies her shears.

You rush to his side, second to nobody. His blood stains your clothes, and your hands as you hold him.

“Luke,” you whisper, wiping your own tears before they can fall. He doesn’t move. He can’t find the strength to. You hold his head in your hands. Despite his misfortunes, he raises a shaky palm to your ash-smeared cheek. Each passing breath is more shallow. Each heartbeat is louder than the last—at least to him—the gentle rhythm spilling into Luke’s ears. He coughs, red staining his mouth, quirked into a tired smile. Luke breathes deeply, lungs rattling.

“Don’t cry,” he rasps. A thousand thoughts rush through his mind—regrets, hypotheticals, ‘what if’s—as he stares up at you. He didn’t know how much he missed how the light hit your eyes or how gently you held him until he can feel it all again for the last time. Cold fingers brush across your warm skin, cupped by your own. Maybe in a different timeline he would live, have a family with you. Maybe in a different timeline, he didn’t let Kronos into his head.

Luke tries to clear the pain that fogs his brain, only able to focus on you. How could he have chosen revenge over you?

You shush the hero, urging him to save his strength. Thanatos nears. “You’ll go to Elysium, Luke. You’re a hero,” you ramble. You can see his life slipping through your fingers like sand. He’s dying.

Luke’s free hand sits on the cold marble, only able to summon the strength to wipe a stray tear off your face. He can only reach. He wants to tell you he’s sorry, than he wishes he could go back to how things were. Maybe in another life. He can only sit there as his heartbeat fades.

“Did you… Did you love me?”

Frantic nods make you dizzy, head spinning. Of course you loved him. You’ve never loved anyone—or anything—as much as you’ve loved Luke Castellan.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispers, blood pooling everywhere as his body burns with pain. “S’long as you still love me—“ he coughs “—when we… meet again.”

“I’ll always love you.”

(heavily inspired by: strxwberryx on c.ai)