#because like god. these two need to learn that you can fight. that you can hash out this pain and STILL choose to love each other
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Undead Unluck ch.206 thoughts
[Mazel Tov]
(Contents: Character analysis - Feng/Soul/Language)
And with that, the Medaka Box shiritori arc is concluded, and man what an arc it was! I think it's a bit unfortunate it had to come after the Golden Week break, that kind of took the steam out of this finale a little bit for me, but damn it was still so good!
Might just be recency bias, but I think this might be one of my overall favorite arcs. It facilitated two different major character arcs (Nico and Feng), gave Ichico some much-needed characterization, showed just how much personality the current antagonists can have, had easily my favorite concept for a fight so far, and elaborated on the power system in a very fun and interesting way. This finale was especially fitting because it managed to touch on all of those concepts, like it was reviewing everything that happened up to now
Starting with Feng, seeing him continue to play the lone-wolf card only to rescind it and actually thank Nico for helping him is just so satisfying, as it illustrates the major change in Feng's character that we've been hoping for all along. By offering his strength in return for the new heights he was able to bring that strength to, Feng directly acknowledges that he wouldn't have been able to reach that level alone, at least not so quickly, and suggests that he's finally begun to learn what Fuuko was trying to teach him about fighting for the sake of others. He hasn't necessarily internalized that lesson yet, but this was an absolutely necessary step on the way to completing that particular character arc
Of course, Feng is still Feng; when he notices a twinge of doubt and weakness in Language, he derides her "what kind of buffoon would think of anything other than victory during mortal combat?" Of course, there's tons of valid answers to that question, but I think the important thing here is that this line suggests that Feng's overall focus, self-improvement and victory, remains unchanged, and that's okay. Feng wants to be strong and defeat others, that's what makes him happy, and he's not wrong for it. What was wrong was his approach, which made it seem like his goal was wrong. Now that he's on a better path, his goals no longer seem like a justification for cruel behavior, just lofty aspirations
This line also harkens back to a major theme of this arc: imagination. The ability to visualize the outcome you want is vital to creating it. This principle was applied very literally in the shiritori battle, where one's imagination was necessary to conjure viable attacks or defenses, so when Language had the thought "this can beat me," that was as good as confirming that she had already lost. I think this is also why "living" conjurations would damage the user upon their destruction; while a wall or a meteor would still be constructed from the user's soul, those things can't be "hurt," but a dragon or a yokai or a god can. They are alive, and being killed is much easier to empathize with than something being broken. You can imagine what it feels like to be cut or burned, so since it's a part of you, the destruction of that piece of your soul is inherently shared with you. Basically, if Language had been able to think something to the effect of "I can still save this," she might have been capable of turning things around, but instead she admitted defeat before she'd even realized it
Speaking of, the look on Soul's face as Language apologized for losing was so utterly human. We've seen UMA have feelings before, but Soul was heartbroken there. His eyes widened by surprise, fear and sadness as she called out his name, how they narrowed with resignation and acceptance upon hearing her admit defeat...it was like seeing Fuuko watch her friends die fighting Sun
The Master Rules have died before, and presuming they win, they'll come back for sure, but that doesn't mean it has to be easy on them emotionally. It's hard to say how the Master Rules feel about each other as a whole, but Soul was definitely affected by Beast's death just as much as he is here by Language's. Whatever they think of him, I think it's very clear that they're Soul's friends and family, and I'm very interested to see how Language's death spurs him into action next
On the subject of the Master Rules dying, I've seen some criticism of Language's core just being her head popping off of her body, but it's not really that different conceptually from Ichico's soul being her head, is it? They both even have the hair tentacles. I think this is meant to further convey just how close to human the Master Rules are, something I imagine is going to be expanded much further upon in the near future, so I'm not going to go much further into it now aside from the surface level symbolism
Language does clearly have a much more nuanced level of sentimentality than most any previous UMA, though. We've seen Burn express his desire to meet God, Clothes jumping through hoops to justify helping Fuuko to himself, and Spring actively wanting to be accepted by humans, but Language had a personal, vested interest in one person. Language viewed Nico as her rival, and used that rivalry to propel herself to greater heights (another way this arc ties into Feng's themes, by the way), but she also loved him. She wasn't waiting for billions of years just to get revenge, she was waiting for someone who could make her feel fulfilled. If she just wanted revenge, she would be cursing him as she died this time around, but instead she sends him off with congratulations and well-wishes. She died with a smile on her face and told Nico to have a happy marriage; how can that possibly be taken as anything other than an act of humanity?
I can only hope that we see that level of humanity from the other Master Rules, but fingers crossed it won't be for a little while. After this arc, I could sure use a breather chapter or six!
Until next time, let's enjoy life!
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I honestly need to write the Gabriel blows up @ Miguel fic. Truly, write the content u wish to see in the world kind of shit.
#I NEED IT. I NEED IT LIKE AIR.#I want Gabriel to just finally FINALLY fucking explode at Miguel and take him to town on how badly he’s hurt him#how fucked up it was that miguel has never EVER apologised and has just let sleeping dogs lie#rather than confront the pain buried between them#how much the snarky caustic attitude actually hurts.#because like god. these two need to learn that you can fight. that you can hash out this pain and STILL choose to love each other#that anger doesn’t make you your abusive father#that it’s GOOD to stand up for yourself. that crawling after love is only going to make you feel like shit and resent other people for never#knowing about how you feel#and Miguel like. miguel needs to finally pull up the big boy pants and face the MUSIC on this one. like he LOVES Gabriel he feels guilt over#the fact he’s hurt him. but ultimately it means so very little unless you buck the fuck up and have the hard conversations#always easier said than done. but so damn important to do regardless#tunes talks 2099
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Cat Tumblr Dashboard Simulator
🖋️ meowful-musings Follow
🕊️ birdwatching Follow
what's wrong with dry food??? my humans feed me it all the time and i think it's fine
💀 elusivehider-deactivated948204
op wheres the natural feeding option
🌲 outdoorsy Follow
you guys are getting fed?
#im a barn cat so maybe im missing something here #meowtthew don't look
7,192 notes
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
ITS OKAY TO BE A MOGGIE
YOU ARE NOT LESS VALID IF YOU ARE NOT A SPECIFIC PEDIGREE!!!!!
☀️ pawsitive-affurmations Follow
extra special shout out to cats who have "common" coat colors. grey tabbies and black cats i am rubbing against your head affectionately <3
🪤 m0usetrap01 Follow
as a grey tabby i really needed to hear this :"3
#i feel like i never see positivity posts for moggies even tho we're the most common type of cat....
154,688 notes
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
i cant believe there are cats ACTUALLY advocating for kittens to be separated from their mothers before 12 weeks??? kittens still need to learn how to interact with other cats before being placed into their furever home omg you guys know you're advocating for undersocialized and aggressive cats right
❤️ loving-paws284 Follow
um op some of us??? matured early??????? i was separated from my mother at 7 weeks and i turned out fine... interesting how you assume that kittens being separated from their mothers at a younger age will lead to the degeneracy of the next generation...hmm i wonder where i've heard that before...
🐈 fluffy-the-cat Follow
OP got bit too hard during a play-fight as a kitten and it shows XD
🐟 tunafeesh Follow
also op have you ever considered that just because somecat is kind of scared and unable to deal with strange cats or humans, it doesn't mean they don't deserve to be adopted?? you sound like a vet psyop honestly
🎵 rage-against-the-meowchine Follow
oh meow god saying that kittens should be fully weaned before leaving their mother is NOT veterinarian rhetoric and i never said that they deserve to be euthanized!!! my mother literally died when i was 3 weeks old and it seriously messed up my development so stop putting words in my mouth, thanks
anyway friendly reminder that underweaned kittens are prone to illness and often struggle with basic cat behaviors like litterbox usage, and in some nyavinces it's even considered kitten abuse
#discourse #cant believe "kitten abuse is bad" is controversial now
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🍃 naturalliving Follow
BORN TO DIE
WORLD IS A FUCK
猫神 Kill Em All 1989
I am trash cat
410,757,864,530 DEAD BIRDS
#outdoorliving #outdoorcats please interact #outdoorcat friendly
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🎣 salmonpurina Follow
can't believe cats are uncritically reblogging that born to die world is a fuck post. i know it's funny but op is literally an outdoor cat truther
#like cmon now you just have to go to their blog #lulu speaks
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💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
gentle reminder that pushing cups off the table is not cute and can cause a lot of distress in your human!!!! gentle reminder that our teeth and claws can easily hurt them more than they can hurt us!!!!
🐰 evil-tabbystripes Follow
evil reminder that the cup should always be pushed off the table. evil reminder that you should always bite and claw at your human no matter what. you can do whatever you want forever
💀 tabbystripes-deactivated098712
make your own pawst
💀 laser-point-deactivated8574721
umm i know a tomcat who did that and his human ended up putting him down so...
👬🏻 nyasunaruenjoyer Follow
Nyaverage shelter cat behavior
#not nyaruto #re-nyab #pickles shut up
545,460 notes
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
saw two male cats sleeping together on the porch today. homeow behavior imo
💡 discourse-meows Follow
hey um what the fuck??? it's really not okay of you to go assuming other cat's sexualities, especially cats you don't even know???? as a queer cat i'm VERYY uncomfortable. real-ass cats didn't consent to your nyaoi fetish, thanks
🌈 nyaoi-warrior Follow
1. i was making. a joak
2. i'm literally gay???
#literally what's your pawblem
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🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
reblog if you've ever caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
i know you fuckers are lying
🍭 gaykittens Follow
this tom hasn't caught the laser pointer
🎩 amazingcatshow12 Follow
shut the heull up
988,653 notes
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
grey toebeans >>>>>>>>> pink toebeans and don't let the haters make you believe otherwise
🐁 ladymouser Follow
op shut the fuck up ALL toebeans are beautiful!!! just bc you're miserable and insecure doesn't mean you can bring others down based on things they can't control
🐾 b-e-a-n-t-o-e-s Follow
oh so the cat-human separationist wants to preach to us
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MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩
♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending
pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all
tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff
"Sir? Sir!”
Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”
You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).
It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him.
Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.
He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.
Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out.
One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.
You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.
“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again.
From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love.
| The letter:
‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go.
With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’
꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
#simon ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon riley cod#simon riley call of duty#simon ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost cod#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#ghost riley#simon riley#canary’s symphonies#canary’s melodies
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Etho and Grian are back at base, hysterically laughing over their achievement. Cleo sits inside, staring, as the two of them talk about getting a wither and a warden to fight, and tries to figure out what she feels about it.
In some ways it's not their fault. Task made them do it and all that. Plus--
Well, it's not like she and Etho are losing hearts anytime soon. They've both done a damn good job keeping themselves from dying. A benefit, Cleo thinks, of deciding to team with Etho this time. Between the two of them, they'll largely only do chaos they can recover from. Maybe this is their game. Maybe this time, Cleo manages to stick with someone until the very end. It looks like it. It looks like...
Grian, of course, is the confounding factor.
She wasn't going to turn him away. He needed allies. They needed someone a bit better at actually doing damage than herself or Etho. It's mutually beneficial. And, besides, he's weirdly lovable, in an inherently kind of dangerous way. A little like loving a bobcat someone had accidentally raised as a pet cat until it got a bit too big and stinky and murdery for them. Like, yeah, he shouldn't be domesticated and he's not, really, in any sense of the word, but it's a bit sad to watch him try to survive on his own now, right?
Hah. Maybe that's what Scar managed to do to him. Would explain a lot, really.
Anyway, he's her bobcat now, which is the problem.
See the thing is: Cleo understands Etho. It's why finally deciding to be partners for once felt... right. They're similar flavors of people. Scared, mostly. Survivors, but not in the 'will stab anyone' way that like, Martyn is. Loyal, although Cleo has no delusions that Etho is as loyal as she. And scared. Has she already said that? Scared. It's important to the kinds of things she and Etho are. Like... mountain lions, maybe. Mountain lions that have been around just enough people to know how dangerous they are. Like that.
God, she's only doing cat metaphors. Bdubs really is turning them all into furries.
Anyway, the point is, Grian isn't scared.
And that... terrifies her.
That's scarier than anything else. Because, see, Cleo wants to survive. But more than that, she wants her partners to survive. And she and Etho, the two of them are doing well. Better than most people. They're green and they have so many hearts.
But Grian? Grian's yellow and not afraid and goading Etho into not being afraid too. It's not their fault, exactly, Cleo thinks. They both had hard tasks. They didn't have a choice, Cleo thinks.
But. But.
She doesn't know what to do, if Etho gets convinced the humans down the mountain aren't scary. She doesn't know what to do if he gets too close. She doesn't know what to do if he gets hurt.
Because she--she doesn't think she can learn to stop being scared, anymore.
But she also doesn't know how many times her heart can stand to lose someone.
Did you know--wild cats are social? They have a reputation for being loners, but mountain lions, they're social. They don't do well being alone. They don't actually hunt solely alone. That's the important bit here. They seem independent, sure, but actually...
Anyway. This is Bdubs's fault. For making her a furry, apparently.
She watches Grian and Etho scheme together and sits back and breathes and tells herself that Etho isn't going to stop being afraid anytime soon. That if push came to shove, he, at least, would retreat back, and that maybe the two of them could convince Grian to retreat too. Safe from hunters. Safe from red.
Maybe safe from hurting each other, too.
(She's not so sure about that part.)
#secret life smp#secret life spoilers#zombiecleo#a bee fic#staring in. cleo and the fact she seems to consider dying before or at the same time as her allies as her happy ending#staring in. cleo and the fact that the thing she and etho have most in common is CAUTION.#and then staring at grian.#hm. well. hopefully that ends better than it seems like it might.#ALSO SHOUTOUT TO ME HAVING THE BRITISH PERSON USE METAPHORS USING EXCLUSIVELY AMERICAN WILDCATS#in my defense they're the ones i'm actually familiar with
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I want you, Baby I need you
Summary: your friend tells you someone may like you and so stupidly, you begin to think about them a little differently
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Word count: 5.2k
A/N: I feel like my brain fog made the pacing weird :/
Warnings: bullying, girls being mean :(, lots of fluff and pining!!
Main Masterlist
Pt.2
“Guess what?” One of your teammates, Christina, asks the second you place your tray down on the table, looking too smug for your liking. Before you can even ask, she’s talking over you. “The freak has a crush on you.”
“Who?” You genuinely forget who she’s referring to for a second, but her scoff seems to jog your memory. “Oh. Eddie Munson?”
“Who else?” She sneers, and everyone else around you laughs like it’s some huge joke, but you’re certain she isn’t joking. “God, how embarrassing.”
Your cheeks burn as they laugh even harder. You let out a weak chuckle, feeling the world around you shrink and become suffocating.
“Yeah,” you let out, trying to play along. “Could you imagine? Me and him?”
You blatantly refuse to call him a freak. Since moving into town two years ago, you quickly learned city life and small town life were completely different worlds. Despite falling in with the semi-popular crowd by joining the swimming team, you understood the struggle Eddie and his friends had to go through. You weren’t freak status back home, but you weren’t popular either. Not always well known, but always well liked, and your new friends teasing him about the rumor makes you worry about it spreading. For your sake and not his. You don’t want to deal with any sort of teasing from anyone.
Guilt crawls up your throat as you steal a glance toward his table, catching his eye as he curiously looks on at the boisterous scene going on around you. You give a quick smile, which probably comes off as more of a wince, and turn back around. In all honesty, he hasn’t been on your radar. You don’t know much about him other than the fact that he’s loud, labeled The Freak of Hawkins High, and has made a scene or two in class.
“Oh god,” Christina sighs out, wiping nonexistent tears from her eyes. “Pathetic.”
Humming half heartedly, you focus on shoving your shitty school food around your tray instead of eating it, a sudden pit sitting heavy in your stomach. Because Eddie having a crush on you actually felt flattering.
You choose to sit next to him in English, even give a small smile when you sit. There’s still time before the bell rings, and you find yourself glancing over at him. You open and close your mouth, uncertain of what to say until the words suddenly come tumbling out.
“How many tattoos do you have?”
For a second he doesn’t realize you’re talking to him until the silence makes him look up and realize you’re staring straight at him, expectantly. He points to himself as if asking ‘me?’ eyebrows raised and his already wide doe eyes getting even wider. And you nod while fighting off a smile.
“Why d’you wanna know?” He eyes you suspiciously, certain that whatever information you’re about to get out of him is going to get back to your friends and fuel the constant fire over his head.
“I dunno,” you shrug a shoulder, but you’re honest. What the fuck were you supposed to say to Eddie Munson anyway? He was intimidating as hell because he put himself in the spotlight like it was nothing. It isn’t like you hate attention, but too much makes you nauseous. “Thinking about getting one, I guess?”
“You guess?” His head tilts, causing his hair to cascade over his shoulder. Of course he would be defensive. Christina was just making fun of him less than an hour ago.
“It’s- forget it,” you shake your head. You can’t believe you would trust your nasty, mean friends when they said he had a crush on you.
Turning back to the front of the classroom, you wait painfully for the bell to ring, and once it does, the room fills quickly with slightly out of breath students. A couple of your teammates wave at you until you finally break and they gesture wildly, asking ‘what the fuck are you doing sitting next to him?’ All you can do is give an apologetic shrug and decide you’ll lie to them later and say it was the only seat you could find. They just roll their eyes and pull out their textbooks.
“Five.” Eddie’s voice surprises you.
Turning your head, you hope no one sees when you ask. “Did they hurt?”
“No, ‘course not.” He bites back a smile, trying to act all tough.
“Liar.” Your nose scrunches and it makes him laugh at how cute it is.
You don’t mean to, truly, but now you look out for Eddie in the halls, stare at him during class, and hope for one more conversation. One that’s less embarrassing, but you do hope. Despite your friend's relentless teasing after English class the other day, you give a small wave back anytime he gives you one. You never initiate first, too shy and afraid it’ll lead to more teasing. This way you can just say you’re being polite when you wave back and they see, but more often than not, they’re too caught up in their own little worlds. Even though you’re scared they’ll tease, you keep an eye out for him and you learn more than you ever knew before. He’s polite. He lets the cheerleaders walk ahead if they bump into each other at a corner in the hall. One arm is tucked behind his back as he sweeps the other out and he bows a little. They give him weird looks respectively, but he just smiles and moves on. He might joke around with his friends, but if you listen closely, you can hear the kindness and compliments hidden underneath the meaning of his words. The group is small, but he holds the same amount of care for each and every one of them. Including his ‘little sheepies’ which you don’t fully understand, but he used a lot of words you don’t understand, and you thought you were smart. After a little investigating, you learn some of them are made up, but you seem to like the fact that he’s nerdy and into this series called Lord of the Rings.
You’re starting to like Eddie.
“Oh my God,” Christina moves in your line of sight, in front of him. You’d positioned yourself at the cafeteria table so you didn’t have to turn around to subtly watch him anymore. “Are you staring at the freaks?”
“Stop calling them that,” you roll your eyes. “You know I hate that.”
She crosses her arms defensively. “Just, you know, being honest. What’s so interesting about them anyway?”
“Nothing.” You mutter, going back to nibbling on the shitty cardboard pizza they served today.
She turns around and gets the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen from her when her eyes connect with Eddie’s.
“Holy shit. You’ve got a crush on The freak!”
“Christina!” You swat at her, but it’s too late. Everyone else at your table already heard and is staring at you incredulously. “I- I do not.”
“Puh-lease. You’ve been making googly eyes at him for weeks at this point!”
“It hasn’t been weeks,” you mutter under your breath.
“Ew!” Another one of the girls scrunches her nose and jabs a thumb in his direction. “Him?”
“Better be careful, Y/N,” another taunts. “Don’t wanna find you in the woods. I heard he, like, sacrificed a girl out there last year. No one’s heard from her since.”
“Oh my god, me too!” Christina pretends to look concerned. “You think that’s what happened to Nancy’s friend too? What was her name? Bev?”
“Didn’t he like…” the girl to your left leans in and stage whispers, but she could be heard from across the room if you listened hard enough. None of them understood the concept of speaking at a normal volume. “Bite a bat's head off?”
“That was actually Ozzy Ozbourne!” Eddie leans so far back in the chair that the two front legs don’t touch the ground, one of his legs lifted so the bottom of his dirty Reebok’s supports his weight against the table.
You’re mortified at the idea that Eddie has heard every single word, but he was at the other end of the long table today.
“Ugh,” Christina rolls her eyes again before turning to face him. “As if we know that freak either!”
“Tina,” you hiss, not wanting to start a scene over this nonsense.
“Whatever. You don’t have a crush.” She fully faces the table again and starts talking about the party at Jason’s after the game on Friday.
You go to throw an apologetic look at Eddie, but find him missing from the table, and a couple of his friends send glares your way, making you shrink in shame.
Eddie isn’t in English, or History, and you find out through the grapevine he skips the rest of the day entirely. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do, but you feel like it’s your fault. The days leading up to the party, he seems to avoid you, eyes darting away quickly and showing up late enough to class that it’s guaranteed there’s no free seats around you. Christina seems to take notice of your sour mood, but only asks once. You lie and say you’re fine, but you feel sick to your stomach. You never actively partook in the bullying, but you never stopped it either.
The day of the game finally rolls around, filled with school spirit and a pep rally, but once again Eddie is nowhere to be found. Not that he’d ever attended a pep rally in his whole high school career, but you at least expected to spot him at lunch. He’s even absent from your shared classes. After school, you hang around in the parking lot, wasting time before you all have to go home and get ready for the game. You frown as you observe his friends, chatting away aimlessly and occasionally throwing candy around. They hang around what you think is Eddie’s van, but if he skipped all day, why would he be here now?
“Hey,” Christina’s voice surprises you, quiet and genuine. “Just us girls… you have a crush on Munson?”
“I…” you trail off, surprised she isn’t faking her valley girl voice, and you feel like you can trust her once again since you met her two years ago. She wasn’t your first friend in Hawkins, but you had been close when you first joined the team. “I dunno. He’s actually kinda sweet. Maybe?”
“Seriously?” And then she guffaws, catching you off guard once more. “Ugh, grody! Guys, Y/N actually has a crush on Munson!”
“I- I didn’t say that!” You can’t believe Christina would do something like that. As you watch them all laugh and tease, you wonder when they all got so mean and why you started letting them get away with it.
“You said maybe. That’s, like, totally a yes!”
“Like it’s such a bad thing to have a crush on me?”
Everyone quiets as you slowly turn around to find Eddie standing there, hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket.
“Eddie, I…” you aren’t even sure what to say as he glares down at you.
“I wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around you, Munson.” Christina’s voice makes you squeeze your eyes shut in frustrated embarrassment. “Even your parents couldn’t stand to stay around. Must be hard having a cultist son. Fucking embarrassing.”
The lot gets so quiet, you can hear the grinding of his teeth as he sets his jaw. He doesn’t even dignify her with a response, turning and walking away before anyone can see the red staining his cheeks.
“Tina… that was major harsh.” One of the girls breaks the silence.
“Oh, eat my shorts, Janice. Are we getting ready at my house or not?”
Everyone seems to hesitate but Christina was captain of the team. No one was going to say no. Well, no one but you.
“I’ve, um, got a thing. I’ll meet you guys at the game.” You glance over toward Eddie, watching as he harshly shoves his shoulder back to avoid one of his friends' hands.
You shouldn’t go to the game, but you do.
Janice called you from Christina’s house, sounding hopeful. You promised to be there, despite your whole body screaming at you to just stay home. Janice promises the whole thing will blow over by Monday, and something else will come along. But it won’t just blow over with Eddie. You know that. He had looked so hurt when you turned around to face him. In all the years of getting bullied, that was the first time he showed anyone what their words did to him. And it was your fault.
You had promised Janice you’d be there, but when you stand outside the gymnasium, you can’t make yourself go in. Can’t make yourself face who you thought were your friends. So, you walk down a path between the large building and the school and take out a key. The pool was somewhat separated, but you could still hear the muffled band playing when you entered the echoey room. You keep a spare swimsuit in your locker for this exact situation. The sport helped clear your mind and you needed to get rid of the image of Eddie’s broken look.
You swim even after the cheering and the band stops. You swim until you feel like your limbs are going to fall off, and even though you don’t want to, you shower off the chlorine. As you step out into the somewhat cool autumn air, a double door bursts open, and the kids that come spilling out make you stop.
His little sheepies. Which means…
Fuck.
Eddie is the last one out, smile so wide you can’t help but wonder if it hurts. They all talk over each other, but Eddie just seems to watch over in pride. You take a step back into the shadows, hoping your bright multicolored windbreaker doesn’t give you away.
“Hey!” Is that… Steve Harrington? “You guys were supposed to be done an hour ago.”
“The campaign ends when it ends, Steve!” One of them retorts back.
“Yeah, well, I don’t have all night Henderson. Let’s go!”
All three freshmen rush to Steve’s BMW and scramble inside. He and Eddie share a nod before he gets in and peels out of the lot, and you can still hear all of them shouting in excitement. The other three seniors exchange goodbyes before parting ways, but Eddie sticks behind. Neither of you move until all the cars are gone except for his van and yours. Why the fuck hasn’t he moved?
“Is it just you?” Eddie finally speaks, turning toward your piss poor excuse of a hiding spot. “Or is the rest of the team waiting somewhere?”
“I’m- I’m alone.” It scares you once you realize you’re the only two on the property. Probably the only two within a few miles at this point. “Look, I’m really sorry about them. Christina especially. I don’t know when she got so…”
“Bitchy?”
That makes you breathe out a laugh, not realizing you were holding your breath. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
It’s quiet for a moment as he shifts his weight to his other leg, observing you and the whole situation.
“Do you want to sit by the pool and talk?” It’s starting to feel pretty creepy outside, and the cold night wasn’t helping your wet hair.
“I thought it was locked after hours.”
You hold up the bronze key, but offer up an explanation anyway. “My uncle is actually the coach. He got me into swimming competitively in the first place. Technically I’m not allowed to bring friends in but…”
“Good thing I’m not really a friend.” He walks past you and you’re a bit frozen in place, not believing he accepted.
You’re nervous as you unlock the door once more and wave him inside like he would but you give an awkward curtsy. As he’s turning in a small circle to take in how the water reflects off the walls and ceiling, you slip off your shoes and roll up your jeans as far as you can go. He begins to do the same when he sees you sticking your feet in the water.
“Jesus Chri-! That’s cold!” His voice bounces off the walls, and your laughter follows.
“Well, yeah, most pools are.” You tuck your hands underneath your thighs and move your right leg around in small circles, disrupting the water. “Didn’t see you at the game.”
“That kind of stuff is bullshit. Forced conformity.” Before he goes on a rant, he looks at the sly smile on your face, as if you were going to enjoy this topic of conversation. But he knew you’d react either of two ways if he kept on. Confused, or freaked out. So he leans back on his palms and tries to act casual. “And if I’m guessing right, you weren’t there either.”
“Didn’t feel like it.” You give a halfhearted shrug. “Christina really… what she said about your parents— I just don’t see her the same anymore. I don’t know how it happened, but she just got so mean, and everyone’s too scared to say anything because she's the captain. Sorry, I’m- ranting.”
“Christina wasn’t far off.”
The admission bounces around as you look at him.
“Eddie…”
“It was forever ago.” He kicks the water, causing a small splash. “Aren’t you co-captain anyway?”
“Yeah? So?” You didn’t think he would know that, and it makes you feel all mushy inside that he knows something so simple about you.
“So don’t you have us much say as her?”
“With her tyrannical rule? No way.”
“No shame in running, but sometimes you gotta be the hero.”
“Yeah,” you scoff. “I’m sure getting to Mordor would be easier than standing up to Christina.”
“You’ve read…?”
“No.” That’s a half lie. “Well, sorta. I haven’t gotten very far. I don’t know if it’s my thing, but you talk about it so much, I wanted to check out all the hype.”
Eddie looks taken aback, mouth hung open.
“Is that what dungeons and dragons is?” You ask curiously, which seems to take him back even more. “I mean everybody says it’s bad, but it’s just nerd shit, right? Sorry, I didn’t mean—“
“It is nerd shit.” He straightens his back at the new topic of conversation. “All it is, is tabletop fantasy role play. Doesn’t have to be like Lord of the Rings. You could have a whole western fantasy campaign. Maybe even in space.” He’s ranting, and god does he know it, but you lean in instead of awkwardly looking away like everyone else does.
“Campaign…?”
“Well, it’s…” Eddie thinks for a moment before explaining in the most simple of terms how a campaign works. You nod along, enthralled by every detail, even when he derails and starts rambling about character class and stats. He rambles on about their current campaign to help explain better, and he uses silly voices and moves animatedly. You laugh, but not at him. He continues to tease, loving your laugh and that you aren’t making fun of him. His arms flail a bit and he gives a few teasing nudges, but in his excitement he forgets his strength.
“Wait, Eddie-!” You fall in the water, grabbing on to him in an attempt to stop, but end up pulling him down with you. The both of you come up spluttering, but you end up laughing at the mop of hair on his head.
“Shit,” he laughs nervously. “It’s deep.”
“Wait. Can you swim?”
“Well, I’m no athlete, but yeah. I can swim.”
“Well…” you swim forward, a sly smile creeping its way onto your face. “Might as well, right? We’re already in here. You’ll want your jacket off, though. It’s gonna be too much dead weight.”
“Right, I’ll uh…”
“Here, I’ll keep us afloat while you get it off.”
Before he can understand what’s happening, you wrap your arms around his waist, your face entirely too close to his. With what little space you have, you can see freckles splashing across his face, and you chew on the inside of your cheek to keep your composure. He avoids eye contact as he struggles out of the leather, the tip of his tongue making a surprise appearance, before tossing the jacket aside and it lands with a loud wet slap.
“Cool. Now good luck catching me!” You splash him a little harsher than you had intended, but you make a dash to escape.
“You’re gonna regret that!”
You’re a lot better at swimming than he is, almost too fast to be caught, but you slow down after awhile on purpose. As his hand wraps around your ankle, making you squeal, you tell yourself you did it to not wear him out and frustrate him. That you didn’t want to anger him, as he’s pulling you into him and dunking both of you under water. You struggle against his arms, but he’s strong. You can feel the unexpected muscle against your hands, but he lets you go too soon and you both come up gasping for air.
“Told ya.” water sprays a bit from his mouth as his chest heaves.
“You cheated.”
“I never cheat, sweetheart.” He wades toward you slowly, dropping down just until his mouth sinks into the water.
“Eddie Munson, don’t you dare,” you warn but your tone is too light. “You dunk me again, I’ll- I’ll make sure you smell like chlorine for a week.”
He doesn’t listen, and you swim backward until your back crashes into the tiled wall. The cold sends a shiver down your spine. Definitely not the way Eddie comes back up, water dripping from his chin and his arms blocking you in on either side of you. His eyes drop to your lips and you find yourself breathing heavily for a completely different reason, your chest brushing against his with every inhale. Neither of you make a move, just admiring every detail you can while breathing each other's air. Just when you think he might, a loud bang comes from one of the locker rooms, making you both jump and look around frantically. You find yourself gripping one of his forearms tightly in shock.
“We should- we should probably get out.” No one else had access to the pool except your uncle, but you doubted he would come by at midnight. He trusted you to not fool around, and you really hadn’t let him down until now. “I swear the locker rooms are haunted.”
Still, you don’t move until he does, and swim to the nearest ladder to get out. The only sound is the water from your clothes dripping on the floor, and suddenly you feel exhausted. Your clothes feel heavy as they cling to your skin. Without discussing it, you both start peeling your clothes off, slightly turned away to give each other privacy. As you’re wringing out your shirt, you can’t help but glance over your shoulder at Eddie, and catch the way his shoulder blades move while he does the same. His eyes catch yours and you smile sheepishly before turning back around. You’re both down to your underwear, unsure of how to proceed.
“We should shower. Alone I mean. You can go to the boys’. There’s towels.” You speed walk away, too self conscious to hang around too long.
“Wait!” He follows you quickly, careful not to slip. “You’re just gonna drop the fact that the locker rooms are haunted and then leave me alone to fend for myself?”
Your footsteps slow, and you let out a small huff because you know you know you’ll feel guilty until the end of time if you do that to him.
“There’s going to be rules, Munson.”
“Oh, of course.” He agrees quietly.
“We go in at the same time and undress fully in our own shower. You’re not to come out until I have, and even then, you’re not to look anywhere but your own shower. When I say it’s okay, you can leave, got it?”
“I think you forgot the part about the towels.”
“Do not make me regret this.”
You’ve never been so self conscious showering until now. Even with a zero percent chance of Eddie seeing you naked, you worry, but you also think about the fact that he’s in the same exact state you’re in right now. That somehow makes the whole thing feel way too intimate, and you can’t believe the first time you got to hang out with your -possible- crush, you both end up naked. If that basic, no detailed rumor got out, you’d surely die of embarrassment. Turning around, you place your face underneath the stream of water, trying so hard to not think about the small glimpse of his torso that you got. The dark patch of hair sneaking underneath his boxers that clung to his thighs from the water.
“So, are you from Hawkins?” His voice brings you out of your wandering thoughts. You quickly turn the knob from hot to cold in hopes that it keeps you calm.
“My parents are.” Looking down, you watch the water swirl around at your feet. “My grandmother got sick and my uncle couldn’t take care of her by himself. So, we packed up and moved back here, but I can tell my parents are happy to be back home. It’s less demanding than the city.”
“The uncle being coach thing makes a lot more sense now.”
“Not a lot of people know actually.” You turn the water off completely, and wrap your arms around your torso self consciously. “I’m getting out now.”
It isn’t the easiest topic of conversation, but when she had first gotten sick two years ago, your mother went to stay with her for the three months she had been told she would live. When it was clear she was going to hang on longer than expected, they decided it would just be better to move permanently and the old lady was still sticking around. Despite being so sick, you liked hanging out with her most afternoons. Even if she forgot who you were.
You carefully walk out of the shower, towel wrapped around yourself tightly, and as you pass by the stall that Eddie is in, you catch a glimpse in the crack between the curtain and wall. All you manage to catch is the back of his head, arms extended upward to wash out whatever shampoo you’d let him borrow. He begins to turn and you look away with your cheeks burning. You attempt to dry your hair underneath one of the hand dryers, and it isn't long when Eddie comes out, damp boxers back on and using the towel you gave him to rub his hair dry. He pauses seeing you kneeled down, holding the towel to your chest so that nothing gets exposed and he realizes he forgot to wait for your okay, but you don’t seem to mind as you give a soft smile.
“I’ll grab our clothes.” He says when the dryer finally turns off and leaves you to get somewhat decent.
He’s suddenly so quiet as he hands over your clothes, no witty comment or joke as the two of you get dressed. All there is between you are stolen glances and nervous smiles. Once fully clothed again, you walk beside him, feeling a little stiff. Not from how your cold clothes stick to you, but from nerves. The soft lights from the pool make his face glow, and your stomach drops in the best way possible. He gets the door for you, and waits with his hands stuffed in his jacket as you lock up. The grass crunches underneath your footsteps, dry from the temperature and lack of rain. Neither of you speak, until you hit the parking lot, cars too far from each other to continue walking together.
“Were they right?” You ask before he gets a chance to escape, arms anxiously crossed over your chest. “My friends. ‘Cause if they were… I think I have one too.”
“Have what?”
Shit. You were too vague.
“A crush, dummy.”
Realization dawns on his face as he absorbs your confession. He can’t believe it, and the worst smallest part of him thinks you’ve done this whole thing as a joke, and someone is going to pop out with a camera to capture how big of an idiot he’s been. All that happens is you chew on your bottom lip, anxiously waiting for an answer, and he's leaving your heart out in the open for too long.
“Yes, yeah, they were right.” He watches how you smile and takes a mental image to last forever. “I’m not really quiet about anything.”
“I just never expected…” you shake your head and look at your feet. “You. You’ve just so suddenly become this big thing in my life.”
Eddie barely has to take a step to be close enough to take your face in his hands and lift your head up to pull you into a searing kiss. It’s so unexpected that you laugh in surprise against his lips, but he smiles at the sound. When you’ve settled down, you move your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, eager to feel his heartbeat slow to match the rhythm of your own. He kisses you so sweetly, you really do think he’s a gentleman. A quick slip of his tongue doesn’t change your mind either.
“If you don’t stop me,” he gets out between kisses. “We’ll be here all night sweetheart.”
“I like that idea,” you tease as his lips move along your jawline, and down your neck. Your eyelids flutter closed, and you focus on every feeling.
Eddie pulls back, showing some self restraint and you almost whine at the loss of contact.
“You’re gonna get a cold if you stay out here.”
“So will you!”
“I’m going to walk you to your car, and you’re going to go home and get all snuggled in bed, okay?” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, the ghost of a smile ever present.
“Fine.”
Eddie takes your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and walks the short distance to your car. You make no move to enter, back pressed against the driver side door, and grab him by his jacket. He braces himself with one arm, looking down at you, his other hand stroking your cheek with the back of his pointer finger. The featherlight touch makes you shiver, and you find yourself getting lost in his almost pitch black eyes. Those eyes that are so beautiful and full of lashes, that a cow would be jealous. You pull him in for another kiss, arms wrapping underneath his jacket and around his small waist. He groans into your mouth, not wanting to leave if you were going to kiss him slowly like that.
“I’m personally thanking Christina on Monday.” He gives your knuckles a quick kiss before taking a few steps backwards, not wanting to look away, and turning for his own vehicle.
Christina’s head almost explodes when he does exactly that and plants a kiss on your lips in the cafeteria, but you just act innocent when you take his outstretched hand and move to sit with him at his table. It felt good, and it felt even better when you give her the finger when she wouldn’t stop staring.
#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson#my writing.
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The Way I Loved You
Luke Castellan x demeter!Reader
Summary: "But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"
Warnings: angst, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic relationship, fluff ending
Wordcount: 3.3K
Masterlist
A/N A. Yes, it's another Taylor Swift songfic and B. Four fics in five days, I've been cooking
And you were wild and crazy / Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated
Ever since Y/N met Luke Castellan, he drove her insane. When they were kids, 13 and 14 respectively, they hated each other. She hated the way he came in and immediately started bossing the campers around. Despite being so young she was the counselor for the Demeter cabin. Her big sister—her only sibling at the time—had tragically died on her way to camp that summer. But instead of mourning the always kind and radiant daughter of Demeter, they mourned the daughter of Zeus no one had ever met. And seeing the way the new boy seemed to soak up the attention made her hate him.
By the time she was 15 they still hated each other but he was all she had. They had both been at camp so long, and lost so many of their siblings and friends, both could hardly remember life without the other. But they still argued like children. So whenever they had bickered so much that Chiron or Mr. D got tired of it, they’d send them to do a chore together. They spent long hours cleaning the showers, stables, infirmary, doing practically every undesirable chore together that they finally started to talk.
Luke got to know her and understand why she hated him. And she had learned about his life and gained sympathy for him.
Soon enough those talks became makeout sessions. They stopped talking but at least they couldn’t fight if their lips were occupied. It was like they were addicted to each other.
Eventually they slid into dating. When they weren’t talking it was great. But someone would inevitably say or do something that made the other mad.
~
“Why were you flirting with him?” Luke demanded, slamming the door of the Demeter cabin.
“What are you talking about? I was training him. You know? Doing my job!”
“It wasn’t just training and you know it.”
“Gods you’re so insecure and possessive.”
“You’re the one who begged me to commit to you. Of course I’m gonna worry about my fucking girlfriend.”
“I did not beg you.”
“Yes you did. You’re the insecure one. You just needed to put a label on it and screw everything up.”
~
“You were supposed to meet me by the lake an hour ago!” Y/N stormed into the room.
“Oh crap. I’m so sorry babe,” he apologized. Trying to kiss her and make it go away.
“You do this all the time. I’m never a priority to you!”
“You’re literally my girlfriend. I don’t know what else you want.”
“I’m only your girlfriend because you didn’t want me to date anyone else!”
~
“Why are you packing?” Luke asked.
“You know my cousin who goes to Syracuse? She invited me up for the weekend.”
“So what? You can go party with frat guys?”
“No, so I can party with girls,” she tried to lighten the mood.
But Luke wasn’t consoled.“I don’t want you going to some college and getting drunk.”
“Why?”
“Because so many things can happen. You could get drugged and taken advantage of. You could get attacked. What are you gonna do if a cyclops sniffs you out but you’re too drunk to realize?”
“You’re not actually worried about that you just don’t trust me.”
“Of course I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.”
“It takes two to tango.”
“Again, you could get roofied.”
“Urgh Luke you’re not listening to me!”
~
They had plenty of arguments. So much so that the Hermes and Demeter campers had a silent agreement to go to each other’s cabins whenever their counselors started arguing.
But toxic relationships can’t go on forever.
It was Y/N’s birthday. She was turning 18. Collectively Camp Half-Blood made a big deal about birthdays considering that each one literally signified a triumph over death. But Luke couldn’t even be bothered to spend the day with her. When she woke up in his bed, he was already up and putting on his training gear. “‘Morning,” she greeted softly. She tried not to seem too excited about her birthday but all she wanted in that moment was for him to say “happy birthday.”
“Hey,” he smiled. “I'm gonna go train with some of the other campers. The new kids have been excited to watch me fight so…” he said smugly, already halfway out the door. “Just uh make the bed when you leave? Thanks.”
She was left disappointed. Like she always was except for when they were together but not talking.
But almost as soon as she stepped outside she was greeted with several wishes for a good birthday. She nearly cried when she got back to her cabin and found her bunk decorated, small gifts left on her bed from her friends and siblings.
By lunch practically the whole camp had wished her a happy birthday and she was feeling a bit better. She was reading a book she got as a gift, sitting alone at the Demeter table while she ate. Laughter invaded the dining pavilion and she watched as Luke entered along with the campers he had been training. He spotted her, coming over to her table but she didn’t even look up at him.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked. No response. “Why are you mad?” Still no response. After a few beats of silence he tried to change the subject. “So what are you reading?” She just held the book up so he could read the title. “Ah. Where’d you get that?”
By now the other campers had grabbed their food and were walking past the Demeter table. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” they each wished as they passed by. She smiled up at each of them as they passed. She only spared a glance at Luke to witness the expression on his face.
“Are-are you mad because you think I forgot your birthday? Of course I didn’t forget your birthday, babe. I’m just uh… saving my surprise for after dinner.”
“Sure,” was all she said, flipping the page.
“No, no,” Luke insisted, coming around to the other side of the table. He straddled the bench, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. As he did so he pressed a kiss against her cheek because she was still focused on her book. “You’re gonna love your gift. I swear.”
Luke spent the rest of the afternoon running around trying to put together a surprise. He got Mr. D to summon a small cake. Fortunately Mr. D was the one person in camp that didn’t know or care that it was Y/N’s birthday so he didn’t ask questions. As for the gift, Luke was lost. Anything in the camp store she’d immediately be able to tell wasn’t something he had thought about and anything he already owned she’d recognize as his.
So he went out to the meadow, picking flowers. She was the daughter of Demeter, of course she liked flowers.
So by the time dinner finished, Luke was pretty proud of what he had pieced together despite his limited resources. After everyone had left the dining pavilion, he brought Y/N to the docks where he proudly displayed his hard work. Except when he handed her the flowers, she looked disappointed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “I know you forgot my birthday. That’s fine. Whatever,” she sniffed passive aggressively. “But you gave me probably the most cop out gift you could think of.”
“What do you mean? You love flowers.”
By now the tears were freely flowing from her eyes. “You know I hate cut flowers because they just die. You could have dug a few up, preserved their roots and repotted them.”
“Okay fine, I’ll plant them.”
But she shook her head. “No, it’s too late.”
“Then I’ll get new flowers.”
“No, not about flowers. It’s too late for us.”
His heart sunk. “What?”
“Luke, I think we should break up.”
“Over a damn gift? Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I dropped the ball but the wrong gift isn’t something you break up over.”
“It’s not about the gift!” she cried. “Luke, we don’t know each other. We’re strangers who are together because it’s convenient. The gift just proves you only know the basics. We’ve been together for two years. Known each other for five. You should know I don’t like cut flowers.”
“So we need to reconnect? We can work through this. Please Y/N, don’t do anything rash.”
She just shook her head again. “You’re not getting it. It’s not even just that we don’t know each other. We can’t talk for more than five minutes before fighting. We’re toxic, Luke.”
“But we’re…”
“Just because we’re all each other has doesn’t mean we’re good together.”
“Y/N, don’t do this. Please.” By now even Luke had a few tears in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Luke. But this is better for both of us.” With that, she walked away from him for the last time.
~~
He can't see the smile I'm faking / And my heart's not breaking / 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all
Getting over Luke was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She spent several days crying to her younger sister, Katie. She tried to help her sister but the younger girl couldn’t relate, making Y/N just feel more alone. But then a new Athena camper joined and things got better.
Chiron had basically assigned Y/N to show Ben the ropes around camp. He felt bad for the poor girl. No one liked watching her or Luke sulk around camp.
“Ben, I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s one of our most senior campers and counselor of the Demeter cabin.”
She smiled at the new boy. “Hi. Do you know what cabin you’ll be in yet?”
“Yeah, uh Athena. She claimed me when the satyrs found me,” he answered, already finding himself interested. Chiron tried to hide his smirk realizing the boy’s quickly growing feelings.
“Well you’re one of the lucky ones.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Y/N,” Chiron interrupted, “why don’t you show Ben around? Let him know how we do things around here.”
“Uh, sure. C’mon I’ll give you a tour.” As they went around camp, Ben asked her all sorts of things about herself. Favorite color, favorite flower, who her friends were, what they were like, what she liked to eat and more. All the things Luke should have known.
As they kept going through camp, Ben knew he was already falling for her. And not just because Chiron had talked her up so much as they had approached the daughter of Demeter. He thought she was pretty and smart. And she was so kind to him. Plus, everyone around camp seemed to love her.
Ben’s very apparent interest was much to the chagrin of Luke. He had spent the first couple days of his breakup pretending like everything was alright. An act that proved very unpopular with the rest of camp. But the lonely nights got to him and his siblings could hear quiet sobs and sniffles in the night. But almost as soon as he started showing remorse, this new guy showed up and all of a sudden there was a buzz around camp about the new guy who would replace him.
The excited gossip about his ex and the new boy had literally started from day one. He saw them going through the camp tour a few times that day. After all, Camp Half-Blood is big. And Luke just happens to have to go to the same areas his ex does at the same time. But every time he spotted them he couldn’t help but glare at the new Athena cabin member. Every time he sent her a smile or made her laugh, Luke curled his fist impossibly tighter. His fists became almost perpetually white as the blossoming romance grew over time.
As for Y/N, she was finally healing. Not happy, but healing and Ben was helping with that as time went on and they got closer. He was perfect. Sweet, smart, a gentleman. But he wasn’t Luke.
They spent many nights getting to know each other. He knew her birthday, all her favorites, and made an effort with all her friends. Hell he even made an effort with Luke—an effort the Hermes boy did not appreciate—because he knew Luke was still important to Y/N. When he asked her out he did so with a pot of her favorite flowers which he had Argus help him get.
He knocked on the door of the Demeter cabin which was opened by Katie. “Hey Katie,” Ben greeted Y/N’s favorite younger sister. “Is Y/N home?”
“Yeah, she is.” The young girl called for her and soon enough the object of Ben’s affection was at the door.
“Hey Ben. What’s up?” she asked.
“I just wanted to give you this,” he smiled, handing her the beautifully potted flower. “I know I’m no demigod child of the plant goddess but…”
“No it’s great,” she smiled at him. But her heart was sinking. It wasn’t because of the gift, the gift was perfect actually. But if Luke had been the one to give it to her, her heart would be soaring. “Thank you.”
“And I just wanted to ask you if you uh- wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” he nervously asked.
“Oh well I’d love to,” she smiled. “But uh we can’t table hop at dinner. It’s against the rules,” she laughed nervously, hoping that would be enough to dissuade him.
“That’s not a problem. I got permission from Chiron to let us have dinner together. We just have to be out of the dining pavilion before everyone else gets there at 7.”
Dread kept filling her. She was in too deep now. And he had asked Chiron, she couldn’t just shoot him down. “Well then I’ll see you at 6 then?”
The biggest smile broke over his face. “See you then.”
The entire time at dinner, Y/N wanted to cry. This is not what she wanted. Ben was not what she wanted. But she kept forcing a happy face, hoping that if she could convince Ben she liked him too, she could convince herself.
When he brought her out to the meadow and kissed her, she wanted to dig herself into the ground and die. It was a sweet kiss but it just felt wrong… like there was no chemistry or passion between them.
She was so frustrated with herself. As she looked into Ben’s eyes she wondered why she couldn’t just love him back. Here was this incredibly caring guy who was more than willing to give her everything she was asking for but she just didn’t feel anything.
~~
But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain
For Luke, seeing Y/N with Ben made a weird dread fill his chest. To him it wasn’t fair that she just got to move on when she was the one that broke up with him. She should be begging for him back right now. And he hated to admit it but he’d take her back in a heartbeat right now.
So when he found her crying on the beach late one night, he didn’t know what to think. But she was still all he had so he approached. “Hey,” he tried to catch her attention gently.
She looked up at him, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, hey Luke,” she tried to play off her tears. “What are you doing here?”
“Came here to think and then I saw you. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I'm fine.” She gave a strained smile that did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes or blotchy skin.
It pained Luke to see her like this. Even more so when he knew he was the cause of her tears at one point. “Are you sure?” he asked, sitting next to her but maintaining her space. “We can talk. I promise it’ll just be a friendly conversation.”
She let out the weakest laugh he had ever heard. “I’m fine. You wouldn’t wanna hear about it anyway,” she dismissed even though Luke was the only person she wanted to talk to. He was the only person who could maybe possibly understand. Her siblings were too young and the only other camper their age was Ben.
“Try me,” Luke challenged, scooting the slightest bit closer.
She looked at him for a while before reluctantly speaking. “It’s Ben. I just… he’s such a great guy. He’s nice, and sweet, and such a gentleman but he’s just not…”
“Just not what?” Luke asked a little eagerly. From a distance she had looked blissfully happy and everyone spoke about how well Ben treated her. But hearing that his ex-girlfriend had a problem with the guy she was dating? Luke was a little too eager to hear about that.
“He’s not you!” She finally admitted. She didn’t miss the way Luke seemed to brighten. “He does nice things for me and he’s so sweet and into me but I’m just feeling nothing at all. It’s like there’s no passion between us.”
“Well you were right. We were toxic but we also had a lot of passion,” Luke tried to lighten the mood. “Look, I don’t mean to sweep in on your most vulnerable moment but I’ve been thinking since the breakup and this is the first time you’ve even looked at me so. I know I treated you like shit and was so possessive. I’m ready to actually commit to you and be your boyfriend instead of just slipping into it because we were already making out when we were younger. I want to give you everything the old me couldn’t or wouldn’t because watching you slip through my fingers was the most painful thing I've ever done. Besides, with more effort I think we could make this work because you don’t fight like we did unless you’re in love. People who don’t love each other just let it fade. They don’t fight.”
She looked like she was in severe pain. “Gods, why couldn’t you have said this three months ago?” Her lips were immediately on his. Luke was a little taken aback but kissed her back, glad to have her in his arms once again.
A few moments later they were promising each other eternity with all the passion in the world. “Forever?” he asked through labored breaths, his fingers intertwined with her hair.
“Forever,” she agreed.
The next day Luke was waiting anxiously in the Hermes cabin. Y/N was ending things with Ben but he was still nervous. What if she decided she wanted to stick with the safer option? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if she went back to him after last night.
His thoughts were only quieted when the door opened and he found her standing there. He stood up anxiously but hesitated, still slightly wary that she’d tell him she changed her mind. But she walked towards him, immediately falling into his arms. “Forever?” he asked.
“Forever,” she agreed.
Relieved, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Forever,” he confirmed for himself.
Masterlist
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo#pjo x reader#pjo tv show#pjo series#the lighting thief#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#x reader#Spotify
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Hi hope you are having a good day
I wanted to know what would it be like if, Mihawk, Shanks and Buggy had a female s/o that was basically like inosuke from demon slayer, they are a bit dumb but will pick a fight with everyone, and they only wear a bandaged top with like shorts or smt.
You guys have been asking me lots of questions and making me feel loved so here is this!!! (And maybe more spicy things to come later this week 👀)
Characters: female reader x Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy
Wordcount: 850
CW: the last bullet point in all of them that are a little spicy
She’s Kinda Stupid, but…
Mihawk
This man is literally so tired. He’s so tired.
Will very often say things like “I didn’t know I was in charge of three children.” (yes Perona and Zoro are his CHILDREN okay) or “Are you acting your age today, or are we pretending you’re six years old again?” or “I’ve met dogs more behaved than you.” (it’s all coming from a place of love and he knows you won't take offense because you don’t take offense to anything)
You’re a brat and he knows it (and loves it). He loves you but god you are so much work when the two of you are out in public. He feels like he can’t take his eyes off you or you’ll end up in a fight with some random guy because he looked at you funny.
Most of the time he doesn’t acknowledge your shenanigans. When you fight with someone, he’ll grab your wrist and physically pull you away from them, usually with some kind of snide remark.
Sometimes you’re justified, though. And when that happens, he gives the guy who wronged you five seconds to apologize before he sets you loose. Most of the time the guy sees Mihawk and apologizes, but the swordsman secretly hopes the guy won't apologize. And on the few occasions they don't apologize, he smirks as he releases you.
He always has to pull you off the guy because you just don't know when to stop. In all truthfulness, it kind of gets him hot and bothered, but he always pretends to be irritated. “You’re psychotic. Do I need to teach you how to behave?” he scolds, his gold eyes scanning your body. “I can think of a few ways to get you to listen.”
Shanks
Shanks adores you. Cheers you on. Loves watching you cause absolute chaos. Why? Because you are him without a conscience.
Shanks knows when he needs to flip the switch from polite to fight, but you don’t. You are always at 100%, your most authentic self 24/7. And he absolutely adores that about you. Even if that means that sometimes you take it a bit too far.
Sometimes Shanks will even use your emotions to his advantage. “Can you believe that guy just did that?!” or “Talk about rude!” knowing full well you’re ready to throw down whoever wronged you or him.
The absolute only time that Shanks will stop you from fighting someone is when you all are in a building. He’s had to pay SO MANY owners back for you destroying glassware and furniture and plenty of other damaged goods. You learned pretty quickly that the first words out of your mouth should be “Wanna take this outside?!” because if you were outside then Shanks didn’t stop you.
The first few fights, he watched carefully, making sure he would be able to jump in if he needed to. The next couple of fights, he watched you with an amused look, excited to see how you were going to beat up the guy (and just to make sure you would win). Nowadays, he doesn’t even feel the need to go outside with you, but sometimes he does just to cheer you on.
After your victory, he always rewards you with a bunch of kisses and sings your praises. He pulls you onto his lap at the bar, making sure everyone knows you're his. “You did so well. I loved how you stomped that guy into the dirt,” he’ll coo, dotting kissing across your neck. “How about later I show you just how proud I am of you, okay?”
Buggy
You never cease in stressing this man out. He is always on high alert now because of you.
Stealth missions? Forget it. Normal day in town? Absolutely not. He BEGS you to be a normal human being in public. To have an ounce of self preservation. But you cannot comprehend that. People who talk shit deserve to get hit.
He is constantly running after you, screaming at you to stop fighting people for no reason. Sometimes he’ll even jump in front of your punches to try and de-escalate it (which of course doesn’t work and results in you just punching him in the face). You don’t even feel bad, you just scream at him to get out of the way and beat up the other guy even more since he made you hurt your boyfriend.
If anyone makes fun of him, he doesn’t even have a chance to scream at them anymore. You’re already pounding their face into the ground. And every time you do, he falls in love with you a little bit more.
“That’s right, that’s my baby!” he screams, watching you smugly walk away from some guy’s beaten body. “Let’s go celebrate, you can do whatever you want.” He grabs your hand, practically pulling you back to the ship.
#one piece#one piece imagine#one piece scenario#one piece x reader#one piece x you#hawkeye mihawk#mihawk x reader#mihawk x y/n#shanks#red haired shanks#shanks x you#shanks x y/n#shanks x reader#captain buggy#buggy the clown#op buggy#one piece buggy#buggy x reader#buggy x y/n#cozage#✧˚mihawk✧˚#✧˚shanks✧˚#✧˚buggy✧˚
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Stuck in The Middle
Summary: After being cramped in a hot car between your coworkers Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, you learn a very personal detail about their lives, their sex lives to be in fact!
Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader x Gojo Satoru
Word Count: 3,031
Warning: Masturbation, threesome, oral sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, Geto’s bangs 🥵
A/N: Someone, totally not me. *bombastic side eye at me reflection* Has been reading/looking at tons of SatoSugu artwork. Again totally not me! This was not my brain worm working against me. . .yeah. . .it was. . .🪱
“Satoru, please, you're on my last nerve.”
“Oh, why? Because I'm breathing? So sorry, I need to breathe, your highness!”
“No, it's because you keep rolling the window up and down! It's hot, and you're letting all the cold air out!”
“Okay, so you tell me how to preoccupy my time? My phone is dead, we're stuck in traffic, and I'm starving!” Satoru turned to glare at his best friend. “If someone hadn't nearly thrown up after swallowing that curse, we could be back at the hotel!”
“I will sic’ one of my curses on you while we're inside the car if you keep testing me!”
“P-Please don't.”
Both Satoru and Suguru seized up, looking down at you. You had been so damn quiet they forgot you were there. You were smashed between the two of them, struggling to breathe. You didn't want to be here. You wanted to go on your own mission. But Yaga had insisted your curse technique for talismans and veils was ideal for this mission.
And your boss wasn't wrong! The three of you kicked major ass, got the job done within a day, and would be staying the night in Chiba before heading back to Tokyo in the morning. That was if you made it to the hotel without Satoru and Suguru killing each other.
Since you left Tokyo, the two best friends have been fighting and arguing. Like they were both on edge, you thought that maybe it was your presence intruding on their space. But they were both civil with you; to each other, it was a different story. They bickered like an old married couple. That was fine at first, but now that they talked about fighting each other? The two strongest sorcerers you knew, yeah, you wouldn’t let that happen.
You sighed in relief as they pulled away, giving you space to breathe. “Oh, Y/N, sorry you're so quiet I almost forgot you were here.” Satoru placed his forearm on your head, leaning in closer to Suguru. “Don't worry about me; I can take Suguru.” Suguru sighed loud enough for the both of you to hear.
“She doesn't want us to fight.”
“Well, not everybody gets what they want.” The words come out like silk as you jerk your head to the side. “Hey!” You don't even have a chance to admire the pout on Satoru as your head collides with Suguru’s shoulder.
“S-Sorry.” This is the only word you can begin to muster as Suguru glances down at you. He gives you a soft, gentle smile, bangs shifting as he shakes his head. A gesture to let you know that you were okay. His eyes slowly open to glare daggers at the other man.
Satoru sighs, rolling his eyes as he turns his attention back out the window. His leg bounces up and down so fast it's vibrating the chair. At least he isn't rolling the window up and down anymore. Maybe the peace would last through traffic. Maybe God would grant you that singular gift.
But God was cruel because the peaceful silence lasted all but thirty minutes. Enough time to get you through the nerve-wracking traffic just as the assistant supervisor pulled up to your hotel. They were the first to get out, rushing to grab Gojo’s luggage from the back. You wanted to join them! To help, but alas, you were still pinned between the two taller men. They were still glaring daggers at the other, waiting to see which would back down first.
There was far too much testosterone in the air for your liking. So you wiggled your way past them, reaching for the door handle. If you had to crawl over their laps to escape to freedom, so be it. A sacrifice you were willing to make! Just as you were getting ready to crawl over Suguru’s lap, Satoru moved.
You let out a little oof as Satoru pressed his whole body against you. You inadvertently fell over onto Suguru’s lap. The dark-haired man’s hands shot up, his thighs tensing at you suddenly collapsing onto him. Before you had a chance to get off or move, you gasped, cheeks flush as Satoru pressed his hips against your ass, poking Suguru in the cheek very aggressively with his pointer finger.
”Does somebody have an upset tummy after swallowing that curse?” The mocking tone of Satoru’s voice nearly makes Suguru grow inaudible. However, it was loud and clear from where you were! Seeing that your face was pressed firmly against his thighs.
Suguru's hand reached up, grabbing Satoru by the front of his jacket, yanking him closer to his face. Which had him pressing his crotch harder against your ass; it felt good. One of your hands flies up to stifle the moan that threatens to escape your mouth as Satoru tries pulling away from his very grumpy best friend.
“Do you have a death wish, Satoru?!”
“No, but I still have your underwear from last week.”
“Yeah, well, I still have your virginity!”
“Mmmph.” You whine, and your hand doesn’t muffle the noise this time.
Both Satoru and Suguru freeze. Their eyes slowly drift towards your body. One hand is gripping Geto’s pants while the other covers your mouth. Your ass is perfectly propped up, right against Satoru. Neither of them can deny how hot you look sprawled out in front of them like this. They exchange a look with each other, while at the same time, you feel Gojo’s cock throb against your ass while Geto’s twitches against your cheek.
Their eyes practically burn holes through your skin, muscles twitching like predators about to pounce. You needed to move fast! Grabbing the handle to the door, you throw it open, crawling over Suguru, hitting the hard pavement with a thump that makes your ears ring. Two large hands grab your jacket, trying to hoist you off the ground and back into the car. Luckily, you’re able to shimmy out of it before you’re caught. You scramble to your feet, bolting for the hotel, ignoring the shouts behind you.
When you’re secure in your room, you plop onto the ground, gasping for air as you stare at the multicolored carpet in shock. Suguru and Satoru were fucking!? Oh God, why did they send you on this mission? It was bad enough having to be stuck between the two of them all day. Now you know details about their very personal and very intimate lives, what the hell were they going to do to you!?
”Stupid Y/N! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” You scolded yourself as you scrubbed your hands over your face. “Stupid body! Is it too much to ask for a not so reactive body!?” You screamed to the heavens, pushing yourself off the ground as you began pacing, biting your thumb as your eyes darted to the wall separating you and Gojo's room. “I-I’ll just act like I never heard it! Yeah, I don’t know who happened to Take the Gojo Satoru’s virginity.”
It was Geto, his one and only best friend, Geto Suguru.
Your mind kept stating that fact all evening. While you took a shower, ordered room service, and as you currently laid in bed. Scowling at the ceiling in frustration, you're tossed and turned. You were trying to think of anything else other than Satoru and Suguru.
Like how nice and comfy your bed was! How would Satoru look pushed into it? The moon was beautiful! Satoru and Suguru would look pretty fucking in the moonlight. Was the heater on? No, it was just you, wanting to be in the middle, to taste and feel each other, their bodies flush against you, like earlier in the car, only with less clothes on.
“Stop it!” you shouted, getting out of bed. “You can't fantasize about your coworkers like this! They said it by accident. Not on purpose!”
Deciding that sleep wasn't an option, you walked towards the bathroom to grab a glass of water. “S-Suguru~” A whiny moan behind the wall had you freezing in your tracks. “Ahh~ s-Sugu~!” you turned your head slowly, eyeing the wall.
“Satoru~”
God hated you. It was apparent that you were being punished for some unknown sin. You pressed your thighs together, staring at the wall for a long moment. Listening to the soft grunts and groans from the two men on the other side of the wall. The bed creaked, enticing you to step closer, to listen to their moans. Your body moved, inching closer to the wall. But before you could you froze. No, this was wrong! You shouldn't be eavesdropping! You should leave as this had nothing to do with you! Before you could turn to go, a sharp inhale caught your attention.
“S-She was so pretty~” Satoru cried out, “ah! I w-wanna touch her.”
“Yeah~ she's so pretty. I would love to have her and you at the same time.” A breathless whine. “Oooh, you twitched, Satoru. You like that idea~.”
You liked that idea.
Forgetting all morals, you strode forward, slowly dropping to your knees and pressing your ear against the wall. “Y-Yeah~ like it~” The bed creaked fast, squeaking under the weight of whatever the duo was doing.
“She’d look pretty stuffed between us~ stuck in the middle.”
You felt your pussy twitch, a silent plea for you to relieve the burning heat building inside you. “Fuck.” A tiny whine sounded in the back of your throat as you slid your hand inside your shorts, rubbing your clit. You imagined being stuck between them. The smell of musk, clean linen, and earthy wood. Put them together, and god imagining their scent lingering on your skin could almost make you cum. “Haaah~” you cry out a little too loud, but you're losing yourself in the fantasy that you don't even notice the creaking of the bed has stopped. “Fuck~”
“I wanna kiss her~” Satoru groans out.
“I wanna kiss her too, on that pretty clit.” Suguru added.
“Yes ~ yeah, I-I want that too.” Your fingers pressed harder against yourself.
“I wanna fuck her while she sucks you off. Same position as when we were in the car.”
“Yeah~ she’d look so pretty choking on me while you fuck her.”
God, they were so lewd! It had you crying out softly, legs shaking as you whimpered loudly.“Fuck!” You cried out, rubbing your swollen clit faster, mouth dropping open at your quickened pace. “Oooh fuck.” Touching yourself is just what you needed. Your fingers were inches from sliding inside, your tight heat. Soon, you’d feel sweet relief.
Knock, Knock, knock.
Three quick taps hit the wall right where your ear was. Hurriedly, you pull away, staring at the wall in shock. A chuckle sounds from the other side of the wall before you hear footsteps heading across the floor, their door creaking open before the same quick knocks sound from your door. Ooooh fuck.
With shaky legs, you stand, heading to the door, slowly opening it. You inhaled sharply as a large hand pressed against it, forcing it open more. Suguru slowly leaned down, his face flushed, his hair a complete mess, and his lips swollen. His sudden closeness had you stepping further into your room.
His eyes took in your own flushed face, darting your legs that you clenched. “So Y/N,” he stepped inside your room, gently grabbing your chin, “you gonna keep playing with yourself? Or do you wanna pick up where we left off in the car?” You failed to find the words, stuttering and stumbling over your traitorous tongue. Suguru smiled gently, tilting his head to the side, waiting patiently for your answer.
Going next door to join them was insane, right? Yes. Were you going to do it? Fucking absolutely.
“Y-Yeah—-I wanna pick up where we left off.”
“Good girl.” Ever so slowly, Suguru brought your fingers to his mouth. His eyes trailed over them, still wet with your slick. “Come on.” He opened his mouth, kissed swollen lips wrapping around your fingers, sucking on them sinfully.
“Holy shit!” You cursed as he swirled his tongue around them.
When he could no longer taste your sweet, tangy essence, he pulled off with a pop. His tongue lolled out, swiping at the corner of his mouth. “We don't want to keep Satoru waiting.”
Everything was a blur, shutting your door and entering their Satoru’s room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back as he slowly grinned—a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Awe~ you actually came.” Satoru patted the side of the bed, his erection straining against his boxers. “Come sit, sit, noisy girl.”
You plopped down next to Satoru, swallowing as the two men looked over you. “Satoru, she told me she wasn't to pick up where we left off.” The white-haired man perked up, blue eyes glancing at you as he turned.
“You do?”
“Yes.” There wasn't a second of hesitation as you nodded. “Yes, I do!”
“Okay, well, in that case.” Sitting on his knees, Satoru whistled happily as he pulled you up onto your knees with him. “Get into position.” He turned your body so your back was turned towards him.
For a split second, you were face to face with Suguru, sitting at the head of the bed. He winked at you before you were pushed down to present your ass to Satoru from behind. A tiny gasp sounded from your throat as Suguru squeezed at the bulge in his sweats that you were face to face with. A small wet spot formed where his tip was leaking pre-cum against the gray fabric.
“Are you sure you're okay with this?” Thick, long fingers played with the elastic of your pajama shorts.
“Mhmm, I'm positive.”
With a final approval of consent, cold air hit your bare ass as your shorts were yanked down. Hissing at the sudden chill, you focused on Suguru’s hand. It was squeezing the bulge harder; the faintest groans rumbled in his chest. Your hands trailed over his thighs, his muscles twitching as you grabbed his waistband.
“Can I give you a hand?”
Suguru shook his head. “No, you may not.” His words stung, a pout forming on your lips. “You may, however, use your mouth.” You beamed up at him, tugging his pants down, freeing his massive erection that bobbed in the air.
“Oooh, it's so pretty.” Gently grabbing his shaft, you stroked it. “Thank you, Suguru.”
While you took Suguru’s cock in your mouth Satoru slapped your ass from behind, spreading your cheeks, looking at your dripping cunt with a needy groan. “Fuck, she's soaked. Did you get off on hearing us dry-humping Y/N?” You gave a little ‘mhm!’ around Suguru’s cock. “Oooh, what a little perv,” Satoru growled, smacking your ass harder.
“No, she's a good girl.” Sweet sighs left Suguru’s mouth as you peeked up at him. “Such a good girl, look at you sucking my cock~ so good.” One of his hands gently pressed your head, urging you to take more of him, while the other rested behind his head. “Fuck, Satoru, her mouth feels so good.”
You were taking more of Suguru’s cock into your throat when you felt Satoru rubbing the head of his cock over your entrance. Your eyes rolled back as you moaned, the tip of his cock back and forth over your slick folds. He hummed, locking his bottom lip with a smirk. “Yeah, down here feels good too~ she's so wet.” Hot, velvety skin slid up. “So wet I might slip inside.” Your eyes widened as his tip pressed past your tight entrance. “Oops~”
“Y/N~ did Satoru slip inside like he said he would?” You moaned in response, deep-throating Suguru as far as you could, gagging over his length. “Fuuck~ you like it? Being stuffed like this~? Your mouth and your pussy are being put to good use.” your eyes water as he gagged more, Suguru pushing you down to his base. Your nose brushing against trimmed black pubes.
“Nnngh fuck, she's twitching like crazy. She likes it~ no, she loves this~!” Suddenly, you were filled to the brim as Satoru slammed into you, gritting his teeth.
Body twitching, you shut your eyes tight, focusing on breathing as best as possible through your nose. But fuck, it was hard to concentrate as Satoru’s hips began rutting against you at a slow and steady pace. Your moans and gags muffled together as Suguru gently thrusts his hips up into your mouth, a whine.
Both men looked at you for a long moment, watching drool running out of the corners of your mouth and how you began rocking back against Satoru’s clock, begging for more. Their eyes locked, gleaming with a mixture of lust and pure, unfiltered need before Suguru leaned over, kissing Satoru.
His sudden movement had his cock pushing further down your throat. You gagged, pulling back to breathe. “Ah! Ah, fuck!” you cried out, grabbing Suguru’s cock in your hand and stroking him as Satoru began thrusting harder. His grunts slipped into Suguru’s mouth as their tongues melded together. You glanced up, watching as Suguru cupped Satoru’s face in both hands, deepening the kiss as his hips thrust into your hand.
Satoru looked like he was struggling to keep up, hips bucking madly against your ass while his tongue moved against Suguru’s in a way that you knew he liked. There was no fumbling around, just two insanely hot guys making out with you in the middle. Breaking the kiss, you watched Suguru gasp for air, his hair even more messy before he grabbed you by the hair, spanking your head up.
“Enjoying the show?” You whined as you nodded; Satoru was now hitting your g-spot head-on. “Ooh, you getting close?”
“Yeah, s-she—ngh fuck!” Skin slapped against the skin as Satoru leans forward, trailing kisses up your spine. “She's so tight, so fucking tight, she's gonna cum, gonna cum and milk me~! Fuck!”
You jerked your hand faster over Suguru’s spit-slicked cock. Your eyes glaze over as Satoru whimpers over your skin. The sight of the two of you slowly unraveling has Suguru tilting his head back with a snarl. The two of you made the cutest whines and whimpers as the overwhelming tension of a building orgasm twisted in both your cores. He wasn't going to last, not at all.
“Fuck, I'm gonna cum.” Suguru yelled, body doubling over, his hand gripping your hair. “O-Open wide~”
“S-Sugu—Suguru!” Satoru watched as his best friend jerked himself madly over your tongue before he shoved his cock into your mouth. “Y-Yeah, fill her mouth, give her that cum.”
Suguru does precisely that; you moan as his cum fills your mouth, thick and salty with just a hint of sweetness to it. He doesn't stop; Suguru just keeps thrusting, moaning, and grunting as he pushes all his cum into your mouth, only stopping when he feels you swallowing around his softening cock. When he looks up from the top of your head, he sees Satoru’s face scrunch up. Eyebrows knitted together as his hips jerk madly against your ass.
“Oh fuck me~ fuck me I'm cummin’ haa ha fuck!” As ropes of cum paint your insides, Suguru quickly reaches down, rubbing your clit as you pull off his twitching cock.
“C-cumming!” Your hoarse voice called out, your hands gripping Suguru’s shirt to steady yourself. “S-Satoru—Sugu—c-cumm—”
“Aaahh fuck!” Satoru grunts out, head falling against your shoulder as you scream, squirting all over him.
He keeps fucking into you, working you both through the waves of your orgasms, pushing you both to the border of oversensitivity. It isn't until you are both trembling that Suguru pulls his hand back, chuckling weakly as his two spent lovers collapse on the bed. He's half tempted to get up, to grab a warm towel to clean all of you off, but he doesn't.
Not when Satoru gently presses his middle and index finger against your chin, turning your head toward him. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” He leans forward, kissing you softly. You return his kiss, moaning against his lips as he repositions your bodies. You sprawled out under him as he stayed slotted between your legs.
Satoru only breaks the kiss when he feels Suguru climb behind him. He doesn't get to ask what he’s doing because Suguru pushes his head down, encouraging him to kiss you more. Satoru keeps kissing you, eyes going wide as he feels the wet tip of Suguru’s cock pressing against his stretched and lubed hole.
“That’s it, keep kissing Y/N Satoru~ it's my turn to enjoy the show~!”
#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk reader smut#jjk y/n#jjk#jjk gojo smut#jjk reader insert#jjk men#jjk geto#jujutsu gojo#reader x gojo#gojo smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo saturo#gojo satoru#gojo x you#satoru gojo#gojo x y/n#jjk geto smut#gojo x reader x geto#suguru geto smut#geto suguru smut#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#jujutsu geto#satosugu smut
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Practice On Me — Part Eleven — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader receives a much-needed pep talk in Velaris and gets thinking. Azriel receives a lecture in Windhaven by a frustrated Rhysand. Reader is surprised by an unexpected visitor to the City of Starlight.
Word count:
Warnings: A little bit of smut, 18+, minors dni.
Velaris feels like an entire world away from Windhaven.
You’ve been here only once before, when, as mischievous fourteen-year-olds, Rhysand had brought you. The High Lord had been in another court on business, which had seemed like the perfect time for Rhys to show you his other home. Only, his father had returned early, and had thundered — hard enough to shake the mountains — about strangers entering the shielded city without formal invitation. Not you, nor Cassian, nor Azriel, had been back since.
And that lingering encounter was why, when Roza brought you here three days earlier, you’d been nervous about coming face-to-face with the High Lord yet again.
But the handsome, roguish male had merely given you a long, slow perusal, and then smiled a charming smile — about the only thing Rhys seems to have inherited from him — and welcomed you to his home for as long as you do so please.
It’s tranquil, there’s no doubt about that. Light and airy and so beautiful that you can forget, for a time, that there’s a world outside the City of Starlight. You’ve spent the last three days at Roza’s side, exploring the city and helping her run light errands, and attending to her at the end of the day when the pregnancy tires her out.
The High Lord — Finadar, or Fin, as you’ve learned most people call him — does no such thing. He does not visit his pregnant mate after long, tiring days. Does not summon her.
Despite the growing new arrival in her belly, there’s a distinct lack of love between the two of them that surprises you, perhaps more than anything else.
But tonight, with Roza joining him for a public appearance, you’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time in three days. And you’re desperate to do anything to fight them off.
You wander the long, spacious halls of the High Lord’s opulent home, warm, despite the brutal mountain range that stands guard around it. This is a level of luxury you were never built for, and don’t quite know what to do with. You read from Roza’s broad selection of literature, and gorge on sweets in the kitchen, and slide along the polished floors on your socks, because why the fuck not.
It’s better than thinking. Anything is better than thinking.
But as the night wears on and the silence gets too loud, it’s hard to keep deeper thoughts at bay. Your heart aches relentlessly over the broken shards of your loving friendship group that you don’t know how to glue back together. Your mind swoons longingly over old memories, old smiles. You’re a hollow vessel of complications, and regrets, and excruciating love—
“I heard you were here.” A trilling voice echoes from the far end of the hall you’re traversing.
You turn, and you think you might choke out a strangled noise of relief at the sight of shimmering, golden curls and warm, brown eyes, huge like a doe’s.
Mor looks far better than the last time you saw her, that’s for sure. She’s always radiant, no matter what she has going on, but the sun-kissed glimmer has returned to her skin, and the gaunt fragility from her hardships has been snuffed out by delicious, enviable curves.
You’re in front of her in what feels like a few great strides, and she’s cupping your face in her hands and kissing both of your cheeks.
“I’ve missed you.” You breathe, realising, in that moment, just how much you have. She doesn’t spend as much time in Windhaven as she used to, and gods, the absence of a sincere female friend is a weighty one.
“I’ve missed you, too.” Concern fills her eyes as she studies you.
“Rhys, Az and Cass aren’t here. It’s just me—”
“I know.” She links her arm through yours. “And let’s be glad of it. I’ve had enough of males to last me a damn eternity.” She’s barely taken a few steps forward before she’s stopping and studying you again. “Roza tells me you’re having a hard time.”
Just like that, you feel yourself begin to crumble. There’s something about the concern of others that utterly obliterates the walls you try to craft around yourself.
And at the first glimpse of tears filling your eyes, Mor is tugging you along again.
“Come.” She says. “I know where the High Lord keeps his stash of booze.”
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“You don’t ever come to Windhaven anymore. Why is that?”
There’s the slightest tensing in the set of Mor’s shoulders as she returns the stopper to a decanter containing dark amber liquid. She turns, handing you a glass.
“I figured you knew.” She says. “My father is being strict about me not spending time there.”
On some level, you think you did know. It’s not hard to figure it out.
For a time, Mor was a pretty frequent member of your friendship group, visiting as often as she could — until a few years ago, when a fight broke out between Cassian and Rhys, and then Mor just stopped coming around. The matter was swept under the rug and not mentioned again. But with her father being so strict—
“Ah.” You murmur, the pieces clicking into place. “Cass, huh?”
Mor snorts softly. “Yes. Cass.” She shakes her head fondly. “Before you ask, no, I don’t have feelings for him. Not like that. It was just…a choice I made for myself. And I’ve never regretted it, even if my father is determined to make my life hell because of it. But I didn’t come here to talk about me.” Her eyes rake over you. “Tell me everything.”
So, you do. The words come spilling out of you in a flurry of shame and heartache. You tell her every damn detail and spare none. And when you’re finally done, you take a breath and wonder — not for the first time — how the fuck you’ve managed to create this situation for yourself.
Mor frowns at you. “I—” She seems genuinely speechless. “Cauldron, I thought my situation was complicated.”
You shake your head. “I’ve made such a mess of things, Mor.”
“Why haven’t you told Azriel how you feel?”
“I wanted to. Gods, I planned to. But I supposed walking in on him and Kaeda made me realise that there’s no point.”
“First of all, that’s bullshit.” She takes a seat opposite you. “Love is one of very few things that there is always a point to. Your self-loathing my try to convince you otherwise, but it’s always better to be honest and face whatever outcome than suffer in silence and wonder what would have been.”
You open your mouth, but she’s holding up a hand.
“Secondly, I don’t like the sound of this Kaeda one bit. I know almost nothing about Fenlaros, but what I do know is that she must have some sort of backing — not just that of her Camp Lord father — that gives her the ability to flounce in and out of a rival camp at her leisure without a single consequence. And that tells me she’s up to something. And that makes me nervous that it’s Azriel, of all people, that she’s attached herself to. Not that Az isn’t a total catch — of course, he is. But he’s also a very, very rare gift who always has sights set on him. I’d wager that that plays into Kaeda’s interest somewhere.”
You fall still in your seat, staring back at her.
You feel damn stupid for not seeing what she’s laid out before you with such clarity.
“You…don’t believe Kaeda’s interest in Az is genuine?” You ask. “I wondered why she was hanging around Windhaven, but I didn’t think…”
“I think she has ulterior motives.” Mor shrugs. “And if Az is in a blinding haze of lust — or even love — it’s not something he’s going to see for himself. He’ll need proof.”
“How could I possibly give him proof of something I’m not even certain about myself?”
“Perhaps you should play Kaeda at her own game. Do some sniffing around her and see what you find out. You’d only be looking out for Az, after all.”
Would you, though? You can’t deny that your feelings, your jealousy, would play a part. You should want, for Azriel’s sake, Kaeda to be genuine, whether your heart would get broken or not. But what you truly want is to show Az that—
That you’re better for him than she ever would be.
You want nothing more from or for him, than to make him happy.
You drag your lower lip between your teeth in thought. “What if it blew up in my face, though? I could just…end up making Az even more mad at me than he already is.”
“Which brings me to my third point. Why are you allowing Az to act like you’ve done anything wrong?”
“I slept with Cassian…”
“Welcome to the club. Tell me, Y/N. are you tied down to anyone?”
“Well, no—”
“Did you and Az agree to only have sexual relations with each other?”
“No—”
“Have you ever sworn off exploring such things with your other friends?”
“No, Mor.”
“Then Azriel has no right to be freezing you out the way he is. Is it messy? Yes. Have you created some tricky drama for yourself? Also yes. But he’s a damn hypocrite if he’s chastising you in one breath and jumping into bed with Kaeda in another.”
“That’s the thing, though.” Your gaze lowers to the table. “He says he hasn’t done anything with Kaeda, and I don’t think he would lie about that. I think…had I slept with anyone outside of our circle, perhaps he wouldn’t have cared. But it being Cassian is just…a bit too close to home for him. Especially given that Az and I were doing things, too.”
The gorgeous blonde rolls her eyes. “So, it’s an ego thing. Give me a break. If he didn’t want you to sleep with anybody else, he should have communicated that. You both should have communicated better.” A soft sigh leaves her. “Listen…Az will sulk for a little while, because that’s just what males do. He clearly has things he needs to work through, and when he has, you should talk. But in the meantime, perhaps you should try to find some more out about Kaeda and her intentions — for no other reason than that Azriel is your closest friend and you’re looking out for him. Perhaps being in Velaris is a blessing in disguise — I’m sure the High Lord could tell you a thing or two about the Fenlaros lot, if you ask nicely.”
So wise, so brilliant, is Mor. A female with such a good head on her shoulders, despite an environment that tries to wreck her.
She just…rationalises things, in a way that you’re not able to. And you hadn’t even considered talking to the High Lord.
You take a slow, pensive draw from your glass as you think on it. And then you’re deciding, “Perhaps I will speak with the High Lord. There’s nothing wrong with showing an interest in a rival camp, after all.”
“No.” Mor flashes a feral grin. “There is not.”
Perhaps it’s selfish, something felt at Azriel’s expense — but setting yourself a little task like this is precisely what you need.
You’ve wondered for a while what the hell Kaeda is doing in Windhaven. You’re determined to find out, one way or another.
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Rhysand is balls deep and utterly lost in the male beneath him.
The noises that fill the room are sinful.
Midnight-kissed moans and panting as breathy and ethereal as a winter-chilled breeze.
This has been a long time coming, and Rhys is just so glad, in that moment, that he finally gets to be inside Zakai, that he thrusts deep and captures him in a full kiss. Zakai growls and grabs his ass, encouraging those thrusts.
Honestly? Rhys fucking needs this pleasure. Never did he think he’d actually be glad to get away to his room at the dormitories, but he needs a godsdamned break. Cassian’s sulking at the cottage has become unbearable since Roza swept Y/N off to Velaris.
If Cass and Az don’t sort their shit out soon, Rhys might just launch them off the peak of the nearest mountain.
Of course, they’d probably fight each other suspended in thin air, instead.
But he banishes those thoughts and gives himself entirely to Zakai, reaching down to fist at the pretty male’s cock. Neither of them will last long. This sex has been too highly anticipated, and it feels too good, and—
And the door is practically kicked in behind them. Azriel strides in as if it’s his fucking room.
“Get out, Az.” Rhys snarls, not faltering.
Az does not, in fact, get out. “Is it true Roza has taken Y/N to Ve—”
“For fuck’s sake.” He pulls out of Zakai with complete reluctance, grabbing clothes to cover them both. Zakai exhales a long sigh and tips his head back.
“Well?” Az demands. “Is it true?”
Rhys yanks some undershorts on. “Three days ago. You’d have found out sooner if you’d just quit your sulking and talk to us.”
“Why has she gone there?”
Zakai clears his throat, awkwardly shucking his clothes on. “Perhaps I should go…”
“No.” Rhys says.
But Az counters it with a dismissive, “Yes.”
The poor male stares between the two of them, and while he may have just been lying beneath the future High Lord, he doesn’t feel like getting in the way of a temperamental shadowsinger.
Rhys releases a yielding breath and grits his teeth. “Fine. I’ll catch up with you later, Zak.”
That’s all it takes for his pretty lover to leave, sex now a distant memory. Azriel shuts the door behind him.
“So?” He rounds on Rhys. “Why is Y/N in Velaris?”
Rhys rolls his eyes at his tone. It’s not exactly any use for Az to be frantic now. Bit too late for that, he thinks.
“Because she needed a break from this place. From you and Cass and Kaeda.”
“I told Y/N that Kaeda and I have not done anything.”
“And maybe you haven’t, Azriel. That’s your business entirely.” He throws himself onto the bed. “But have you stopped for five fucking seconds, amidst your brooding and self-pitying, to consider how it might have made Y/N feel to be the practice run?”
Azriel goes preternaturally still. Doesn’t know what to say.
And that’s fine, Rhys reckons, because he’s nowhere near fucking finished.
“You explored that intimacy with her under the pretence that you were merely refining those skills for another female’s benefit.” He continues. “Whether it was initially Y/N’s idea or not, you should have recognised right away that she deserves better than that. And then you had the absolute fucking audacity to get mad at her for sleeping with Cassian, at the same time she would naturally assume you were sleeping with Kaeda, when you actually have no right to be angry. So what if she slept with Cass? So what, Azriel, that she fell into the arms of somebody who actually made her feel chosen, and not like she was just a stepping stone to a greater pleasure?”
Silence.
Stunned, heavy silence.
This room is far too small for such strong, impassioned words. They hang threateningly in the air, and Azriel feels like he’s watching them fly towards him in slow motion like poison arrows closing in on their target.
And then the shadowsinger croaks, finally, “It’s not—like that. I never wanted it to be like that.”
Rhys shrugs. “I’m not sure you even know what you intended, Az. The whole thing is one big mess. I mean…why haven’t you had sex with Kaeda, if that’s what you were practicing for? Do you even like her?”
Az says nothing.
The lack of an answer is precisely what Rhys is expecting. Even makes his lips kick up into a smile.
He thinks he’s pretty damn wise, does Rhysand.
“I’ll wager,” he goes on, eyeing Az knowingly, “that the practice wasn’t about Kaeda at all. Perhaps it was, the very first time Y/N offered.” He rests his hands behind his head. “But then something happened between the two of you — perhaps a kiss, maybe even some touching, and you were struck down by a realisation that the rest of us saw coming years ago. That what exists between you and Y/N goes beyond friendship. What you have is something special. And getting a little taster of that under the ruse of practice sent you on a downward spiral. So many emotions. So much angst. Suddenly, you were acting irrationally, getting into fights. Not over Kaeda, no, but over Y/N. Seeing her with other males makes you feel sick to your stomach. And that is why you’re so angry with Cassian. Because he had sex with Y/N, and you want her, not Kaeda. You love her.”
Well.
Azriel may as well be standing there stark naked, for all Rhys has stripped him bare.
He feels like his skin has been peeled from his bones and a patchwork of ugly truths lies in its place. He wouldn’t be overly surprised to glance down and see writing covering every inch of his body in bold, alarming ink that reads: I AM IN LOVE WITH Y/N. I AM JEALOUS AND ARROGANT AND SELFISH. I AM SCARED.
He tries to swallow down the lump in his throat. It doesn’t budge. “I never meant to make her feel like that.” He damn near wheezes, the words punching their way out of his lungs.
Rhys softens a little. “We know that, Az. But as long as you try to run from your feelings, you’ll be kicking dirt up at the people behind you.”
“I don’t…don’t know what to do — about anything.”
“You just need to stop trying to fool yourself. You need to make use of your space from Y/N and figure out what, exactly, it is you want, and what, exactly, you’re going to do about it. You need to accept that mistakes have been made all round, but not one of them is unable to be fixed. And you should start by mending things with Cassian.”
On instinct, Az scowls. He may know Rhys is right — and damn him for it, too — but he still can’t help being angry at Cass. The thought of his hands on Y/N—
“Wipe that look off your face, Azriel.” Rhys says drily. “You both know you miss each other, and you’re just as miserable as one another because of it. I’m not saying you should fix it today or even tomorrow — take your time to brood, if you like — but something has to give eventually. And if you won’t fix things for your sakes, do it for mine. Perhaps then I’ll be able to fuck Zakai and actually finish.”
This — these glimmers of wisdom and authority and reason — are like a little window into what Rhysand will one day be like as High Lord of the Night Court.
Azriel is glad of his friendship, his counsel. Even if he’s not quite ready to act on the advice yet.
“It’ll all be alright, Az.” Rhys says, studying him. The shadowsinger looks…lost. “But you should take the time to work things out before Y/N returns to Windhaven. She doesn’t need any more drama, and neither do you.”
Right again, of course.
Az can only manage to clear his throat and nod, before rasping out a quiet, “I will. Thank you.”
Rhys dips his chin. “I do love you, you know. I wouldn’t put sex aside for a conversation with just anyone.”
His answering smile is unconvincing. “I love you, too.”
“And you love Cass. So don’t wait too long to talk to him.”
Azriel inclines his chin. “Sorry for interrupting.”
“I’ll forgive you this time.”
The shadowsinger shoots him one last look that says far more than he can articulate in that moment. And then he’s slipping out of the room.
And as he walks away, he can’t stop his thoughts from venturing to Fenlaros.
To how lost he would be without Rhys — and Cass, too — if he really did leave them behind.
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Roza is so godsdamned beautiful.
You can’t help feeling a little awestruck as you stand behind her, gently combing a brush through her night-black hair.
She stares into the mirror of her dressing table, her face a sheet of serene beauty. Through her nightgown, the swell of her bump shows proudly.
She seems pensive tonight, quieter than usual. Every few seconds, your gaze creeps to her reflection. Curiosity gets the better of you.
“Can I ask you something?” You part the strands of her hair, beginning to tie them into a braid.
Roza’s eyes lift to yours. “Of course, my love.”
It takes you a long moment to work out how, exactly, to diplomatically word what you’re thinking. You imagine it might be a touchy subject.
“…You and the High Lord….” You chew the inside of your cheek. “You’re not…not quite what I expected — together, I mean.”
You’ve never seen a mating bond up close, but you’ve read about them enough to know that they should be intense, passionate, a love that is so altering that it’s almost gut-wrenching. You expected to catch a glimpse of that with Roza and Finadar, to see a bond that you may never have the honour of experiencing yourself, for how rare it supposedly is.
What you didn’t expect was the huge distance that exists between them. Not a single person could miss it.
There’s no desperation to see each other, be in one another’s company. They sleep in their own quarters of the house and only seem to come together for public appearances. The whole thing is…bizarre.
Roza smiles wryly at you in the mirror. “You mean, you didn’t expect the High Lord and I to be as separated as we are?”
“I just figured…with a mating bond…”
“A lot of weight is placed on a mating bond, little dove.” She swivels on the stool to face you properly. “I had the same thought as you, when I was younger. Fin and I tried to love one another, but…the fact of the matter is that mating bonds aren’t always right. He and I are so different, and sometimes that can be a beautiful thing. But in our case, it certainly is not.”
Your eyes fall down to her bump. “But the babe…”
“This babe was conceived on a heat-of-the-moment, impulsive whim that shouldn’t have happened. Not that I regret it.” Her hand strokes over her bump. “But sex and love are two very different things. Fin and I do not love each other. I’m only in Velaris because he only trusts his healer to see me through this pregnancy. We are mates in the loosest definition, but we are not committed to each other. And he has no problem reminding me of that, with all the females he invites to his bed as though I’m not in the same damn house as him. He’s an arrogant, salacious lech — but he’s also the father of my children, and my High Lord, too. So I choose not to confront it, because I don’t care enough to. The babe and I will be back in Windhaven soon enough.”
It makes your heart ache, makes you feel sick, to think that Roza is on the receiving end of such treatment. She deserves better. Deserves the world. Someone who will worship her like the goddess she damn well is.
It terrifies you to think that…that you could just as easily find yourself trapped in such a dire situation.
“What worries you?” Her violet eyes are soft, warm, as she reaches up and presses a hand to your cheek.
You place the hairbrush down, leaning against the dressing table. Your hand finds hers with a sad desperation. “Is love doomed, Roza? Is it real? If a mating bond can’t hold up, what hope do I have—”
“You have all the hope, dove. And as you should. You will love, and you will be loved. You just need to have the courage to face it and all that it comes with. Fin and I are a bad match. But there’s no reason to believe you’ll see the same fate. So just…don’t give up. Be brave and love.”
Tears blur your eyes as you stare down at her. You can’t stop yourself from moving your joined hands, both yours and hers, to rest on her bump. “This babe is the luckiest child in the entire world to have you for their mother.” You whisper. “And I will be honoured, Roza, to help you in any way I can when they’re born.”
She lifts your hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of your palm. “And I will be honoured to have you by my side.” She cracks a smile. “Perhaps you can start with making me some ginger tea before bed.”
A soft, breathy laugh leaves you. “Of course.”
Her beautiful smile follows you out of the room and into the dark, empty hallways. You feel strangely at peace tonight, more so than you have for a long while. Most likely thanks to Mor’s pep talk.
But after you’re done in the kitchen, a steaming cup of ginger tea clutched in your hands, a pair of booming male voices reach you from the antechamber. It piques your interest at once.
One voice is certainly that of the High Lord, but the other sounds somewhat familiar, too — like it’s one you’ve heard before, but not enough to place who it belongs to. It’s a dangerous, gruff baritone of a voice that seems almost impossibly deep.
You should mind your business, walk away…but it seems strange for the High Lord to receive a guest so late at night. Seems…clandestine, in nature.
And so you stay light on your feet, inching towards the door and peering through to the giant, opulent antechamber.
And that’s when you see the High Lord leading Tathaln Baralas, Kaeda’s father, in the direction of his study.
az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes
#azriel#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#shadowsinger#shadowsinger x reader#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel fic#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fandom#acotar x reader#acotar writing#acotar fanfic#acotar headcanon#acotar smut#acotar series#acotar fic#azriel fanfiction#azriel fanfic#reader insert#illyrians#rhysand#cassian#practice on me
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a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me
the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.
when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.
gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—
“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.
it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.
gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.
he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.
you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.
“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.
and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.
not like this.
“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.
“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most.
“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.
“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”
“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.
“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.
“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.
“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.
but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.
the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.
satoru gives you three squeezes.
#rest well satoru 💟#you fought well really#shucks this shit got me emotional like u rlly didnt deserve to be fighting so hard alone#be the strongest and get the burden of being untouchable 😭#and having no one to turn to .... sigh :( he deserves everything & more#at least hes together with his friends up there. he deserves all the rest he can get for fighting so hard 😞#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk spoilers#jjk 236#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru x reader#gojo angst#gojo satoru angst#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk scenarios#jjk drabbles#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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Hobie x deadpool reader or spider reader
Hobie Brown x Deadpool male reader
Headcanons
I love Deadpool, who doesn’t love Deadpool? I tried to think of what Deadpool would be like in Hobies’ earth, and I just feel like he would kinda just be the same as always, except maybe with a metal aesthetic. And any chance to work my favorite music into stuff? I’m taking it.
You were Deadpool, and had been Deadpool for a long time. In the beginning it had just been your musician and artist name. Much of your music was different types of metal, with lyrics focused on judging the system and pointing fingers at its corruption.
Of course, a lot of people hated your music, but there was also those who loved it. One of them being Hobie Brown. Even before he became spiderman, hed always been a very righteous person with strong opinions about corruption and capitalism, so finding an artist who shared his views was great.
That was until you got a little too popular and stepped on the wrong people’s toes with your music and art. When you started pointing fingers at Osborn and his wild corruption, those against you grew more and more violent.
And at one of your biggest concerts to date, one that offered all the proceeds to those in need, you were assassinated right on stage. Theories would go around saying it was Osborn wanting to get rid of you, and telling everyone what would happen if they crossed him.
Panic consumed the arena after you were shot right on stage, and in the panic your body was whisked away. Deadpool became an icon in the anarchist circle, as one of the first to stand up against suppression and never back down no matter what.
Time would pass, Hobie would become Spiderman, and he would fight people like Osborn, even killing the guy with his guitar in the end.
But even after killing Osborn, the world was still in disarray, meaning a lot of work had to be done. So, when someone who went by Deadpool started popping up in stories and rumors, it caught people’s attention.
It was assumed you were just a fan, who wanted to use the legendary name of Deadpool to spread your message, or maybe the honor the original Deadpool. That was until people met you though.
You had the same clothes, only now wearing a mask. Your boots, your jacket, your spikes, and patches, even your guitar, you had it all. And on closer inspection, true fans could see it was the real thing.
You were almost like a ghost of the past, stories would go around that you were the angered spirit of the musician Deadpool, having crawled out of hell to wreak havoc on the upper class and tear out the roots of capitalism.
Hobie would want to meet you of course, you were like his hero and biggest inspiration. The first time you two would meet would be during a fight of some sort, and you’d chuck your guitar across the battlefield to nail a corrupt cop in the head before they could get a lucky shot at Hobie.
After that you two became close like two peas in a pod. Hobie would never treat you like you were someone above him, even though he had admired you for years, because he doesn’t believe in treating celebrities like gods.
Soon Deadpool and Spiderman being spotted together was a common sight, and so was seeing spiderman swing around with Deadpool in his arms or hanging on his back like a koala.
You never really take off your mask in the beginning, but when you do Hobie learns why you keep it on. You have a large scar taking up part of your head where the bullet had blown your head apart all that time ago.
You had apparently always been a mutant with a light healing factor, which had kept you alive, but you had been whisked away from Osborn researchers who wanted to use your healing factor. But in the end, they’d simply boosted your powers and you became pretty much unkillable.
This leads to you taking most of the hits during battle, since you can easily take it, anything you lose will just grow back. That doesn’t stop Hobie from worrying though, because seeing someone get their arm sliced off is pretty extreme.
Your first kiss is something you’d only have with a version of Deadpool. Hobie would be carrying your head after it’s been sliced off, and you would be asking him for a kiss and blowing him kisses from where hes carrying your head.
Now, anyone normal wouldn’t do what Hobie does, but Hobie doesn’t like to fit the mold. So, he would lift your severed but still living head and kiss you on the lips. Cue a make out until your body stumbles over and you can get your head back on.
You two never actually put a label to what you are, because that’s not the type of person you two are. But you two are pretty much dating now. You move into an apartment together, and sleep in the same bed at night, and kiss whenever you want.
Spiderman and Deadpool pretty much become icons in your community, for standing up towards oppression, and also being two hot guys who hold concerts after fights.
#male reader#marvel#spiderverse#across the spiderverse#hobie brown#spiderpunk#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x male reader#hobie brown headcanon#hobie brown imagine#spiderverse imagine#spiderverse headcanon#spiderverse x male reader#spiderverse x reader#across the spiderverse imagine#across the spiderverse headcanon#across the spiderverse x male reader#across the spiderverse x reader#spiderpunk imagine#spiderpunk headcanon#spiderpunk x male reader#spiderpunk x reader#marvel imagine#marvel headcanon#marvel x male reader#marvel x rader#deadpool reader
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So a thought has been kicking around my head for a bit...what if Helio knew exactly what he was signing up for by making Kristen his chosen one?
It has always struck me as odd that when describing Doreen in Helioic heaven, Brennan mentioned her flirting with men and women. It also strikes me as odd that Kristen never got any pushback from Helio about turning her back on him. Even if he was similarly 'out of the picture' like sol was while Arthur was wrecking havoc, Kristen's powers should have faded when she fully committed to not worshipping him. You need to worship a god to get powers, and this is emphasized heavily in the latest episode. Kristen worshipping the vague idea of religion but Definitely Not Helio just doesn't cut it. Sure, taking away a PCs powers wasn't really in the cards in season one, but Brennan works very well and very caringly with what he has to establish as canon.
Kristen was looking for a reason to drop Helio from the get-go. His frat boy appearance and non-answer to a nearly impossible question didn't truly matter at the core of her feelings. She wanted an out from the prison she was trapped in with the Helioic faith, even if she didn't realize it fully. She had tension with her mom and her ideals from the scene one! She wanted to connect with people the church actively shunned. Helio was never the true problem.
Now, gods are shaped by their worshippers. So on some level Helio is shaped by people with shitty ideals. But there's still a foothold of good, especially if there are out and proud gays in heaven. Especially if Kristen Applebees of all people is the chosen one.
When you have worshippers misinterpreting your whole deal, going with Sol's shitty messaging and transferring it onto you and using it for bad things, what can you do as a god? Because you ARE what they say you are. So how can you fight back?
Well. You make your chosen one someone that embodies your true heart. Someone that can actually turn the tides of your worship.
There is an emphasis on tracker reinventing and revitalizing her religion. Changing it for the better. Taking the old and not tossing it out, but making it better.
Isn't that what Kristen struggles with the most? That's what she needs to learn how to do.
Tracker also established that she can worship multiple gods when she helped with Yes?. Kristen doesn't need to settle for one even if she (fingers crossed) brings Kassandra back.
Because the season opened with the slow apocalypse of endless night. Endless daytime would end similarly. There has to be a balance. They are two sides of the same coin. Day and night. The surety of the sun and the doubt of the shadows.
Kristen wants both. And she can fucking have it if she decides to.
Ally once said they appreciate that the enemy is always the church. Organized religion. Kristen is perfect for disorganized religion though. Chill frat boy vibes and anxious doubts and the ultimate message of 'just do your best'.
I think religious trauma is a compelling, close to the heart topic for a lot of people. And some turn away from religion entirely and wash their hands of it. But some people don't. Kristen is a cleric. She can't. She wants a god, she wants answers, and she just can't find them in the established community she was raised in. That doesn't mean the core of her religion was wrong. The church was. So you take the religion and you harness it in a way that means something to you.
Maybe Kristen being desperate enough to invite Helio back into her life is what this has all been leading to.
She can remake a god. She's done it before. Because Kassandra was good at the core. Maybe Helio can be too.
#dimension 20#kristen applebees#junior year#fantasy high#fantasy high junior year#i come from a religious upbringing and am very much not religious as a result#but dang people from a traumatic religious upbringing that maintain belief in the god but not the toxic teachings are very cool and valid
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∞ SNSTV : first year, first mission
this is the first chapter of my series "sensitive" (SNSTV = sensitive). since it's a series, this first chapter is going to be pretty "boring" in terms of romance, but it still full of satosugu interactions with reader...but probably not favorable ones as you'll see soon lol. anyway ! stay tuned for the next chapters because i will have a lot of fun fleshing this out hehehe
first year satosugu x male reader
-> prev
( if u squint )
“since shoko is a very valuable sorcerer, she must refrain from participating in highly dangerous missions,” the only girl in the room smiled at the information, sneakily flipping off her male classmates. satoru was annoyed, suguru was indifferent, and [name] seemed to be the only one with half a mind to care for the woman’s safety.
“her abilities are quite special,” he compliments, making yaga hum in agreement and shoko wink at him in appreciation.
satoru pretends to barf in his mouth.
“that leaves the three of you, [last name], gojo, and geto — this mission is going to be your first one without supervision. it should show to be easy enough. you are to simply monitor and oversea a specific section of the closed down mall and exorcise any curses that are roaming. it has been closed down far too long and kids are starting to wander in there without any idea of what they’re walking into. for the safety of the people and the community, you must exterminate every curse that dwells there. you are all permitted in using any cursed tool, if you wish, but we highly encourage you learn to harness your abilities as soon as possible.”
satoru pretended to barf in his mouth again. doing things for “normal” civilians was never his most ideal way of spending his time. but unless he wanted to hear a nagging from yaga, he had to suck it up. formal missions were hard to dodge, anyway. meanwhile, suguru hummed in understanding, seeing why this would need an urgent team.
and [name] was just excited to finally get his hands on his cursed tool again.
the three were escorted to the abandoned mall via their driver, who told them to call him if anything were to happen and they needed immediate assistance.
“i don’t get why crybaby over here had to come,” satoru huffs, looking at the mall with disinterest. it’s unclear whether or not he’s talking to himself or his other classmate. either way, it got a reaction from [name] who was within earshot.
“why don’t you just go fuck off gojo,” [name] snarled, holding onto the scythe in his hands with a tight grip. he expertly twirled it around, using the weight of it and basic understanding of gravity, to make it so that the sharp blade was pointed right at gojo’s neck.
hiding his surprise at the sudden action, gojo just smirked and glared at [name].
“you’re just scared because you know i’m right. the moment things go to shit, you’re gonna go running with your tail in between your legs like a poor puppy. and i’ll be there to laugh,” gojo said with a taunting cackle, the ugly sound rising from his throat making both suguru and [name] cringe.
“i’ll slice your throat open, i mean it.”
“love to see you try, piece of shit!”
“alright! enough fighting, the both of you! seriously? are we on a mission to exorcise some curses or is it my personal responsibility to babysit the two of you?” suguru sighed, rubbing his forehead in stress, “can we all just do this and go home? i think it’s obvious neither of you want to be here any longer,”
satoru rolled his eyes at suguru’s “nice guy” perona, internally calling bullshit on his entire personality. god, satoru hated those type of guys the most. the ones who think they’re superior just because they’re more mature. it pissed him off that suguru had an ability so strong too...talk about waste of potential!
well, too bad for both [name] and suguru because the one who was most superior was obviously him! he was gojo satoru, after all.
“whatever, weaklings. why don’t you sit back and just let me take care of this? there’s no need for your abilities when i could exterminate every curse in the vacinity,” satoru was confident when speaking his words, but if you were to tell him to actually do that…he might not have been able to.
hey! he was a first year and just recently allowed to go completely “ham” on using his powerful abilities. he didn’t have the bestest grasp on control or output, but he did know that his technique easily overpowered the other twos’.
“hm, to make it interesting, why don’t we have a competition?”
the competitive side of [name] and satoru shone bright after suguru said that. taking their perked up heads and attentive ears as a sign to continue on, he proposed, “whoever exorcises the most curses won’t have to do chores around the dorm for a whole week and all that responsibility will fall onto the losers.”
“a whole month,” [name] bargained, earning a shrug of approval from suguru. and satoru laughed that obnoxious laugh of his again, shouting a “bring it on” before putting on his sunglasses.
“you two are going down!”
“what does cockiness get you besides hateful stares, gojo?”
“geto-san’s right, you gojo bitch! bite your tongue and choke on your own blood, fool!!”
on the count of 3, the three students were setting off into separate directions of the mall and finding as many curses as possible to exterminate. for how vast the entire property was, this could take as long as a couple of hours…if the three students were normal jujutsu sorcerers.
but when you put a narcissist, someone with a superiority complex, and a hot-headed individual in a high stakes competition, you get the mall that was full of curses being free of said curses in under two hours (an hour and ten minutes, to be exact. to cover a 800,000 square feet land full of extremely lower grade curses).
at the beginning of the competition, [name] would lure out the curses by simply baiting them with his “naivety” of them being there. they’d pounce to attack, happy to find an unsuspecting prey, before [name] would slash them across their forms and kill them with his cursed tool. he imagines by the end of the hour, he had already taken care of over a couple dozen very low grade curses.
just as he was about to maneuver around and slice another one up, something had already took care of the problem.
“gonna need to try harder than that, crybaby,” satoru taunts, smirking from a floor above as he easily blew up the curse that was about to attack [name]. the man grits his teeth in annoyance while the white haired individual just shrugs in pride, “you can’t even look out for yourself, need me to save you, huh?”
“fuck off!” [name] sent a strong gust of wind satoru’s way via swinging his scythe towards satoru, creating almost a slash of air. his tormentor only laughed at the attempt in attacking him, flipping out of the way and then walking past [name] with a smug grin.
as he disappeared from [name]’s sight, he felt himself get more and more annoyed and angry at his predicament. of course, he had to be stuck in an abandoned place with his bully and not be able to leave until the ending of their mission. [name] huffed, feeling an unfair amount of tears reach his eyes.
at least satoru wouldn’t be around to see him cry like a pathetic loser, he thought to himself. he shook his head a couple of times, forcing the tears down with a clearing of his throat and rough wipe of his face. it was a pain to live such an emotionally unstable life — as if he had any control over things like that.
“so you really are a crybaby?” suguru’s voice broke his silent sobs, making him whip his head up and glare at the man approaching him. seeing his obvious apprehension to him being there, suguru put his hands up in surrender to show he meant no harm, “there’s no reason for you to be crying, why are you crying?”
“obviously i know i have no reason to cry, idiot, how annoying do you think it is for me to have to do it when i have no reason to?!”
suguru blinked, confusion panted on his face, “you have to cry?” putting emphasis on ‘have’ it was obvious suguru didn’t see a point in such a thing, especially right now.
“you wouldn’t get it, so just leave me alone,” [name] said, waving his hand and turning around to look for more curses. suguru had an odd look on his face as he watched [name] walk away, an unreasonable amount of cursed energy surrounding the previously crying man.
the ravenette truly wondered what his life story was, he was just so intriguing. a sorcerer coming from one of the strongest clans in the jujutsu world was walking away from him with his head held down, shoulders shaking, and tears dripping onto the floor.
“what’s his deal,” suguru hums to himself, flicking his wrist in the direction of a miniature curse that was coming towards him and easily eliminating it from the picture.
[name] continued expertly swinging his scythe around whenever he saw a curse coming towards him, not flinching as it died in front of him each time. it was obvious he was most comfortable with such a weapon, despite it being a couple times larger than his smaller frame. with how easily he handled it, though, it was somewhat obvious that he had been training with the weapon for a long time.
“oiii!!! i finished up on my part of the mall,” satoru shouted, his whiny voice echoing in the empty walls.
“same here!!”
[name] looked down at the pathetic curse that was shyly standing far away from him. it had an odd figure, a spherical body that was being held up by skinny blue legs that were wobbling from the abnormal amount of weight that they had to hold up. it was muttering some stuff about the fitting room and how the clothes weren’t fitting, making [name] believe it probably formed from the stuff people would feel about themselves in the fitting rooms.
he sighed, walking ahead and crouching in front of the curse. the scythe remained unmoving as it was leaning against his shoulder, weakly swinging in the air at the heavy weight of the blade hanging behind his head. he kept it secure with his arm over the handle portion, making sure that it didn’t fall over.
the curse reached its arm out to touch him, but with a simple shifting of his head into the opposite direction, [name] stopped the possible contact. instead, he just put his finger to the pudgy flesh of the curse’s body, grimacing at the feeling. and with a simple “shot” coming from his fingers, the curse began to flail in pain and agony. until it turned into nothing but ash and dust, being blown away by a passing breeze.
“hey, what was your total count?” satoru’s voice taunted from behind him, not really reading the energy in the room. [name] stood up, a completely dead look in his eyes. it almost shocked satoru enough to shut him up, but it would take more than a miserable face to ever make him close his loud mouth.
“i came up to about 60,” suguru said, “a bunch of small insignificant ones, really,”
“and i got to the eighties,” satoru grinned, roughly shoving his shoulder into suguru’s. the black haired man only rolled his eyes, “what about you? i doubt above thirty, am i right?”
in reality, [name] had killed more curses than the two combined. but he susposes that he had an advantage, wielding a cursed tool rather than using his actual technique. well, except to kill that last one. plus his high sensitivity in reading where the curses were gave him an advantage in finding the prey faster than the other two.
but instead of telling the truth and gloating, like he should have done, he just shrugged, “i didn’t keep track — i guess you win, gojo,”
that made the strong sorcerer pump his fist into the air, chanting about how [name] and suguru were going to be stuck doing his laundry for a month. he was too caught up in his celebration to notice how sunken in [name]’s face really looked.
it wasn’t just his eyes that appeared dead, but it was as if the color drained from his face, his eyes turned bloodshot, and he was weakly walking towards them.
suguru noticed, though. and it intrigued him as he peered behind [name]’s subtly limping figure, catching a pile of ashes that was blowing in the wind. he couldn’t connect the dots completely, but he did know that the two things he noticed were connected in some way.
“feeling alright? losing sucks,” suguru asked, trying to talk about more light hearted things in the face of his incredibly sullen classmate.
“yeah, it’s whatever, i guess,”
there was definitely a difference. less colorful choices of vocabulary were being used and suguru thought that was the most noticeable change in [name]’s demeanor. he wasn’t cursing satoru out for being an egotistical piece of shit with the biggest ego in the world. he was just blankly walking past the bragging man with not a care in the world.
suguru bit his lip, stopping himself from asking more questions and instead reaching into his pocket to contact their original driver to tell them that the job was done. and while suguru was theorizing all of these things to himself, it was obvious satoru didn’t even spend a second thinking about it. if anything he welcomed the new, depressed [name]. it made for perfect bullying material for him!
that sadist, suguru grimly thought in his mind as he listened to the phone ring. he informed the driver to come pick them up before turning back around to watch satoru and [name] interact with one another. with how off he was acting, it was a surprise to see satoru still adamant on tormenting [name]. wasn’t it obvious already he was not himself? couldn’t gojo just give him a break? but then again, why wasn’t [name] sticking up for himself? he wasn’t a little kid that needed suguru’s saving, but at this point, he might as well.
“c’mon, gojo, quit it already,” suguru spoke up, lightly slapping the man’s shoulder. satoru didn’t like that, though, obnoxiously stomping over to stand toe-to-toe with suguru.
“hah? c’mon, geto, you’ve got to see that this is a real pathetic scene, isn’t it? he can’t do anything in his life but constantly lose. it makes you wonder how it’s even possible for us to exist in the same world as him; the strongests and the weakest standing to be in the same jujutsu class? what a joke,”
suguru grimaced, pushing satoru backwards to create some space in between them, “that’s not even funny, what’s your issue, gojo? can’t you just shut up for a couple of seconds? would it really kill you?”
satoru pretended to barf, glaring at suguru, “oh, c’mon, don’t tell me you’re one of those righteous folks that sticks up for the weaker people?”
“i don’t have to explain shit to you — i don’t even know you,” suguru mumbles, not wanting to entertain him further. creating an argument would only make their moods worsen and become more bitter towards each other. in the midst of his annoyance, suguru glances towards [name] and scoffed to himself.
it was a bit pathetic of [name] to not even speak up for himself, he’ll admit that. but he wasn’t going to bully him just for that. he just wished that he had spoken up for himself in this moment, it would’ve at least been a sign to satoru that he wasn’t to be messed with. that he was strong, to some extent. but instead the man just stood there and took all the insults.
it made suguru both annoyed and angered.
why couldn’t [name] stand up for himself now? he was doing so before so easily and naturally. but now, it was as if all the energy was sucked out of him…
the ride to the jujutsu high was silent. and [name] seperated from the two the moment they stepped foot onto the school grounds. suguru remained stoic as he watched [name] walk away while satoru next to him only hummed in disinterest.
”i’m telling you, suguru, to not waste your time defending him. he’s got no place in the jujutsu world, weak sorceres like him that prove to be useless have no place standing next to us — or even shoko for that matter. she may not have fighting prowess, but her natural ability is remarkable. with [name]…there’s nothing remarkable about him. it’s as if he’s a normal human, he’s ordinary and dull. don’t waste your breath with him.”
that was all satoru said to suguru before walking off, his hands behind his head as he walked in such a lax position. suguru stood silent for a couple of moments before snapping himself out of his stupor and going to his room.
he looked at the room a couple of doors down from him, [name]’s room, and his lips were drawn into a thin, straight line. he entered his comfortable room without wasting another second.
he didn’t know that behind [name]’s door, the man had his knees brought up to his chest as he sobbed his heart out on the floor. the screen of his small tv was blaring back at him in the dark room, the screen being the only source of light. he was watching his favorite show, one that made him laugh and happy. but tears streamed down his face as he had to choke back on his sobs.
he tried forcing a smile on his face, making an unsettling expression a couple of times before he gave up.
he always hated this part.
but he had to persevere. he moved to his small music player at his bedside, grabbing the headphones that worked alongside them and falling onto his bed. he put the flimsy over-ear devices on, sighing as he looked up at the blank ceiling. soon, a compilation of his favorites songs filled his ears and he tried to be content with the feeling.
‘immerse yourself. and you’ll be okay in the morning.’
it was a mantra he repeated to himself until he felt himself fall into sleep.
he really hated his innate cursed technique.
-
sorry if u hate emotional mcs...this guy is gonna be one. but for explainable reason, trust! he's still going to be strong, too, though, so look forward to that! i can't wait to make him go #insane <3 but other than that, really fun to write since it shows the dynamic i imagined satosugu to have in their first years of jujutsu high !!! since the whole incident happens in their second year i rlly wanna focus on building the relationships in the first year and stuff, so things might be a lil slow to start, but when it starts ... it'll start, trust. tysm for being os patient w this even if it is short affa. i look forward to writing longer, more deeeeeep chapters in the future. much love <3
#≡;- ꒰ ° sensitive series ꒱#jujutsu kaisen x male reader#jujutsu kaisen male reader#suguru geto x male reader#suguru geto male reader#suguru male reader#geto male reader#satoru male reader#satoru gojo x male reader#satoru gojo male reader#gojo male reader#gojo x male reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk male reader
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How would you describe Tim's people skills? Especially when you compare them to Dick's?
Hi anon, this was a fun ask!! I picked out a few panels for each of them (comforting friends, a bit out of sync with friends, fighting with friends, and offering practical support to friends) just to get a quick look at their people skills in action, and then I rambled on about my thoughts on their strengths and their weaknesses.
(Caveat: I'm going to try to focus on my ideas about differences between the two of them, since we're comparing, but I do think they're socially more similar than not, so you might also want to check out @bitimdrake's post on Dick and Tim's similarities for the big picture!)
Short version: I think they've both got good people skills. Dick's are a bit better and more natural, whereas Tim's are more practiced and learned (in ways that sometimes show).
Let's start with Dick first, and then I'll get back to Tim.
Dick
Comforting friends in Titans Secret Files:
Dick: Will you go back in there and sit down? This is my house. You don't need to clean up after me!
Donna: I know, I just... I just ...
Dick: Hey, hey... what's the matter?
Donna: Nothing. It's nothing.
Dick (reaching out to supportively grip her shoulders): Donna, this is me here, remember?
A bit out of sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Titans 3:
Dick: The movie runs 98 minutes. So if we fast-forward past the coming attractions and watch only half the credits, I can still make it back to Blüdhaven in time to -
Roy: Nightwing, chill. Team morale demands that you relax and enjoy yourself.
Fighting with friends in Titans 13:
Dick: We haven't used it much, Changeling. But that's gonna be different. Starting right now. Our performance against Tartarus and the HIVE was unacceptable. Each and every one of you should thank God you weren't killed.
Kory: How dare you? How can you just stand there talking to us like we're a military detachment -
Giving support to relative strangers in Nightwing 87:
Neighbor 1: Oh, he - he's a true gentleman, you know? Always holds the door, or helps me up the stairs with my groceries if we both come in at the same time...
Neighbor 2: ...used his motorcycle to jumpstart my car one morning and even got my brother-in-law a job with Wayne Enterprises when he got laid off...
Neighbor 3: ...and he's very, very, very nice and doesn't talk down to me. Plus he lets me use his basketball.
Offering practical support (making dinner) in Prodigal:
Tim: I can't believe you can actually cook...
Dick: I like to eat.
Tim: So does Bruce - but he had to order Chinese last night.
Dick: That's where I'm one up on him - I've lived on my own without an Alfred. Still miss him, though... He was good for a lot more than cooking and cleaning.
Tim: Yeah. But at least we don't have to miss him on empty stomachs.
Strengths:
I think Dick's people skills are pretty simple: he has them! He's good at people! And I tend to think of Dick's people skills as so automatic they're mostly instinctive. It's not something he really has to think about because it's so ingrained in him. A combination of natural talent plus a childhood spent around sociable performers means Dick's just really highly attuned to the people around him.
And I don't think he's particularly obvious about it. So e.g. you could be having a conversation with Dick where he didn't seem like he was paying close attention, but if there was An Important Moment where you got anxious for a moment or let something important slip or let a bit of anger show through etc. - Dick will have picked up on it, even if it's unconsciously, and it'll stick with him and come back to him later.
And just generally - I think Dick has good instincts for who he can trust and who he shouldn't trust; when he's treading on conversational landmines he'll often pick up the unease even if he doesn't have the context to know why there's a problem; if he's trying to comfort and trusts his instincts he'll often do the right thing even if he can't justify in words why he felt like that was the right thing to do.
So I think for Dick, there's always the level of conscious awareness - the things he's aware he knows, if you will - and the level of unconscious awareness - things he senses, but maybe can't explain, or maybe doesn't want to know so he's suppressing the thoughts.
So he's good at leading, and he's good at comforting, and he's good at listening, and he's good at figuring out the right thing to say...
Like, he's good at all of it, so it's actually sort of difficult to elaborate because there's just not that much nuance? Given any particular interpersonal situation, Dick has an excellent chance of getting a quick read on some random guy he's just met and then getting the reaction he wants pretty fast, whether it's intimidating the guy or comforting him or getting him to cooperate or taunting him until he loses his temper, etc etc etc.
Obviously Dick's not a mind reader, and he can get things wrong, especially when he's in the throes of one of his own personal crises, but generally I think Dick's very very sure-footed with people, even with strangers.
Weaknesses:
This isn't a weakness precisely because Dick's usually doing it on purpose, but he'll sometimes have fights with his friends because they think he's acting overly professional/detached and he thinks they're not being professional enough. So e.g. in Titans 13, you can see Dick's set up the room almost like he's leading a business meeting, and he's the boss lecturing them, and they're reacting by getting mad at him. Part of this is basically a Traditional Bat Problem - Tim's friends also balk because they feel like Tim's keeping them at a distance - but Dick tends to lean especially hard on "I'm The Leader Here So Shut Up And Do What I Say" professionalism / distancing.
When things are going well, Dick's friends may grumble at his intense professionalism but basically appreciate it (this is basically how things go in their reunion in TT vol 2); when things are not going well, though, it becomes a point of tension. Generally, Dick gets extra-professional as a coping mechanism when under stress, as here in TT vol 2 12:
To the extent that Dick falters with social skills, it tends to be almost exclusively with people he knows well, not with strangers. Dick sometimes struggles with maintaining relationships, largely because he's often juggling multiple responsibilities; he'll sometimes get hyperfixated on something and deprioritize his more stable relationships (so e.g. when he gets fixated on trying to fix Blüdhaven and gets distracted from his relationship with Babs).
Somewhat relatedly, if things start going wrong in his own life, he tends to self-isolate out of shame and avoid everyone he thinks of as more put-together. So, for example, in the aftermath of Blockbuster, he's a self-destructive mess who's trying to dodge and/or drive away Clark and Roy and Tim (all people who care about him and would want to help), but Sophia Tevis and Rose are two messed-up young strangers in trouble and their obvious neediness trips his "urgency" meter, plus he may be a mess but they have no context to realize that so he doesn't feel so self-conscious, and he's able to be drive-by super-helpful to them and then dive right back into privately self-destructing.
Also not a weakness per se, but he tends to be a bit of an introvert in general - he and Wally are close, but they go long stretches of time without catching up; when he's spending time with friends, usually it's Donna / Wally / the Titans / Tim visiting Dick rather than the other way around; he's more likely to get cajoled into joining a team than the other way round - Wally talks him into rejoining the Titans and Roy talks him into joining the Outsiders. He likes people and likes spending time with friends, but he's usually not the one initiating a social gathering. He's self-aware about this; in Titans 9, he muses, "It's not the newness that's the problem. The problem is the old stuff. The ruts. You know someone long enough - well enough - and you fall into a rut with them... you completely take the relationship for granted..."
Relatedly, because Dick's pretty self-contained, he has a recurring problem where loved ones interpret him as distant or detached or indifferent even when he's still passionately attached - both Kory and Babs break up with Dick in part because they feel like he's not really that committed to them (also there are mmm Problematic Plotlines involved but I'm ignoring those for the purposes of this post), and in both cases IMO they're misreading him. He's deeply upset by both breakups and responds with big declarations of feeling and, uh, proposing marriage shortly afterward. (Okay, so he's not ALWAYS sure-footed sdfdsfs)
When Dick's getting something wrong, it's usually because he's upset and overcompensating - when things with Kory and Babs are tense, he tries to fix it with Big Gestures; when Vic's mad at him about spying, he missteps with an elaborate secret plan culminating in a big dramatic offering of a new body which Vic does want... but he's still understandably miffed at Dick for making a bunch of decisions behind his back instead of talking to him. Dick guesses right about something Vic will want, but because Dick when he's feeling guilty tends to slide into I-Am-The-Leader, I-Must-Fix-Everything-By-Myself, I-Am-Responsible-For-Everything mode, he forgets that the whole original problem is connected to not respecting Vic's autonomy / right to make decisions for himself, and that a better gesture would be asking Vic what he wants instead of once again making decisions on his behalf without consulting him. (I'm sympathetic to Dick's spying-on-Vic plan on account of how Vic did turn into an evil moon for a bit - comics are bonkers, you guys sdfdsfs - but I'm also very sympathetic to Vic feeling that he deserved fuller disclosure here.)
And you can see similar patterns in lower-key conflicts too: every time Dick gets accused of being just like Batman, it's usually because he's coming off as harsh or detached or uncaring (sometimes on purpose because he's pushing people away; sometimes just because Dick handles grief and fear by shutting down; sometimes because his the-buck-stops-here leadership style can come off as overly-detached), even though Dick actually cares SO SO MUCH, all the time, about everyone he knows.
But honestly... these weaknesses exist, but they're minor in comparison to his strengths?? Dick's a guy with a lot of very strong friendships for a reason. He's true as steel and once he cares about you, he cares about you forever. <3
OKAY! So that's Dick. Let's finally move on to...
Tim
Comforting friends in Joker's Last Laugh 3:
Tim: Babs? Is everything okay? (hugs her)
A bit out-of-sync with friends (but still getting along well) in Young Justice 7:
Cassie: A campout isn't a campout without a real fire. It's no fun at all.
Tim: But the generator is far more efficient, Cassie. It's non-polluting, it poses no threat of forest fire, and it's... it's ... (taking in everybody else's expressions, sighing, reversing course) It's no fun at all. Impulse, can you...?
Fighting with friends in Adventure Comics 3 (stonewalling, avoidance, and lying!)
Conner: You weren't picking up.
Tim: I didn't know it was you.
Conner: I turned off my caller ID blocking.
Tim: I was busy. I am busy.
Conner: Too busy to talk to your best friend?
Tim: Yes. No.
Giving emotional support to relative strangers in Robin 98 / 100 / 156:
Wesley: I just wanted to thank you. They tell us at the meetings that it's important to let people know how you feel. You did a lot for me - making me sober up. If you hadn't taken the time to notice - (Later)
Tim: You're gonna stay strong, right? (Wesley: Right.)
Tim: You're gonna stay sober, okay? (Wesley: Okay.)
Tim: You're gonna do it 'cause -
Wesley: 'Cause if I don't you'll come back and kick my butt all over campus. Tim: Uh huh.
(The redhaired guy was about to jump. Tim convinces him to sit down and talk first.)
Tim: So, you're in college?
Guy: Yeah, I'm a freshman. How'd you know?
Tim: Just a hunch. I'm guessing you don't like it much.
Guy: I always hated high school. Always felt like I was outside looking in, never part of any group or anything. I was on the diving team but even then I didn't feel like part of it. The only good thing was that was where I met Lori, my girlfriend.
Offering practical support (medical care and tea) in Batgirl 59:
Tim (treating her injury as she shares her traumatic past): Whoa. That's ... horrible.
Cass: That's nothing. Stephanie and I used to laugh about - oh... uh... never mind. Wait, Tim. I... I'm so ... stupid, I don't -
Tim: You're not stupid. Want some tea?
Cass: I ... uh... yeah. Thank you.
Strengths:
Tim! I think Tim's also pretty decent at people - not as good as Dick, but hardly anyone is?
I tend to think of Dick as instinctively good at people, and Tim as more consciously good at people.
Tim spends a lot of time being intentionally watchful: observing, spying, psychoanalyzing people, paying careful attention to what they say, thinking about what makes them tick. (And Tim psychoanalyzes himself, too. Tim is studiously engaged in the study of Tim, and of Tim's friends, and of Tim's family. He's often playing a role, even when that role is "Tim Drake.")
So e.g. in Red Robin, at one point Tim has an elaborate domino-falling database where he's compiled a list of villains he wants to fight and how he wants to fight them, all leading up to a very careful takedown plan for Boomerang where he's thought through and anticipated Boomerang's every move ahead of time... and he's basically right! He gets it all right!
And this kind of intensely-studied logical chess-game of "he will do this for this reason, and then this for that reason, and the other people will respond in this way, like a series of dominos, and I've thought through all the possibilities" is Very Tim to me, and I feel like... this is just the sort of thing that Dick would never ever do?
And mostly Dick wouldn't do it because he wouldn't have to. When Dick's skeptical of James Gordon Jr., he goes to talk to the guy and feel him out, and he ethically feels obliged to give him the benefit of the doubt because there's no evidence against him, but he's got a bad feeling and doesn't trust him and secretly slaps a tracer on him because he's got an instinct he'll want it, and he's right: James Jr. is up to something, and that tracer is exactly the thing that Dick needs.
And similarly if Dick wanted to goad James Jr. into doing something, I think he'd go off and meet him and goad him into doing it, and he'd have an instinct for what to say to make that happen - I think the whole elaborate domino plan that Tim comes up with for Boomerang would feel unnecessarily complex to Dick. Not that Dick doesn't make complicated plans, because he absolutely does, but Dick doesn't usually overthink people.
Similarly, if Dick had been the little kid in Lonely Place of Dying, he'd have gotten worried and gone straight to Bruce and talked to him, not gotten worried and taken photos of Bruce from a distance and then come up with an elaborately overthought plan to go to New York and track down his estranged son and fix him that way. And, like. Kid!Tim's not entirely wrong! He's correctly picked up on a very real and very strong connection between Bruce and Dick even though he doesn't know either of them! And given how little actual information Tim has, this is actually an impressive plan (it's a bad plan, because Tim doesn't know about their fights, but it's an impressively solid plan given that his entire information basis is "watched them from a distance and collected news reports"). But this isn't how Dick thinks about people.
Backing up to a more general point: Tim values people skills really really really highly. I think "uses interpersonal skills to help and comfort other people" is one of Tim's highest values and arguably the highest value - he imprinted on Dick because he was kind, and then imprinted on Batman because he was comforting Dick. And he has six million After-School-Special-style plotlines where he tries to comfort / advise / rescue / etc. people in various stages of emotional distress and who are using bad coping mechanisms. His very first outing as Robin involves talking down a semi-suicidal shooter; the big finale of YJ has Tim talking Secret down from her rampage; he's very gentle when he's comforting his girlfriend after she confides in him about a maybe-attempted-rape; he talks down a suicidal college student in Robin; plus there's the entire concept of "Batman needs Robin" in the first place; not to mention his obsession with the importance of friends; and so forth.
So it's something that he's good at because it's something he values and works at. His people skills are conscious and learned. He does a fair bit of amateur psychoanalysis of other people's problems, and he's generally good at identifying the problems, even if he's not always great at fixing them. And he's often playing a role, or imitating other people, rather than being himself; he invests a lot of time constructing alternate identities; he's often more comfortable wearing a mask. (It is just so typical of Tim that his civilian friendship group is the DCU version of D&D players.)
So his practiced-people-skills work decently well, because he's diligent and he cares a lot, and he's better at people when he's older than when he's younger. And he's extremely good at things he's had a lot of practice with, like meeting new schoolmates, or making small talk, and he's friendly and he likes people, and he's good at learning scripts and following them, and he only tends to misstep when he's distracted or unusually anxious or when he's in a situation where normal social norms don't help. (Of course, since he's a vigilante and not an ordinary person, distracted / unusually anxious / weird situation are all things that happen more often than you might think!)
I also think Tim has a few caretaker instincts that have become automatic - generally he's hyperaware of when people are upset and usually tries to reach out or fix it, and even when he's trying to keep himself at a distance he'll slide into caretaking sometimes - so e.g. there's that moment in Batgirl with Cass when Tim's kinda upset with her for siding with Batman (and distancing himself from other people in general), so he's not intending to get close to her, but also what we see him doing is treating her wounds and then getting her tea. And meanwhile Cass actually wants to reach out, and she's intensely observing him and worrying and wanting to help, but what she actually does is... drink the tea. That Tim got her. While she stays firmly on her side of the couch.
(I tend to think of Cass as slightly similar to Tim but at the very very very beginning of her learn-to-people journey here? Like Tim, she cares!! A lot!! And she's successfully understood that Tim's upset, and she knows when she's put her foot in her mouth. But she's not sure what to do yet.)
Weaknesses:
Tactless! This is a tricky word because I think people sometimes hear 'tactless' and misunderstand it as 'generically rude,' but that's not quite the issue - Tim's quite polite most of the time; his problem is that his default mental monologue is very detached / psychoanalyzing / analytical, including about himself and things he's emotional about. He'll often be analyzing his own emotions even in the process of having them (I also talk about this a little here, though it's mostly a post about Dick and anger), and Tim's also constantly analyzing other people.
This means that if he doesn't edit his brain-to-mouth filter, he can come off as too detached or professional or calculating.
This is obviously similar to Dick's problem of coming off as too detached / professional - again, they're both Bats - but it's not quite the same thing, and I think this distinction is most obvious if you look at the places where they're doing it on purpose and picking fights:
Dick's most likely to pick fights by pulling rank: "I'm the boss, you all fucked up this mission and you better not do it again, shape up or shut up." This is a kind of distancing that's about Dick-the-impassive-boss and you-the-subordinate.
By contrast, Tim's more likely to pick fights via hostile psychoanalysis: "I notice you're being snide about Cass again, but we both know you're actually just mad that Bruce cares about her more than he cares about you." When he's miffed, both his inner monologue and the things he says tend toward 'uncharitable analysis of your emotional weaknesses,' and this is something he periodically directs at Bruce / Jason / Damian. This is a kind of distancing that's about Tim-the-hostile-analyst and you-the-unfortunate-target-of-analysis.
(Caveats: I don't think Tim's above trying to pull rank if he can, but he rarely has the opportunity; Dick's not above jabs at other people's weaknesses when he's very defensive and feeling attacked - junkie, elevator - but IMO he's more likely to pull rank, whereas Tim's jabs are more likely to be wrapped up in insulting psychoanalysis, so e.g. Jason's insecurity is his problem. The Jan Brady of the Batfamily.)
You can see related similar-sounding-but-different issues if you look at some of their respective breakups. So e.g. Dick has a breakup with Babs in which she thinks he doesn't care about her, and Tim has a breakup with Cassie in which she thinks he doesn't care about her. And these breakups are different for six million reasons (among other things, Dick and Babs have a pretty intense romance, whereas, uh, Tim and Cassie have had one date and IMO she's very right that they're better off as friends).
But you also get some useful character notes:
Babs is wrongly anxious that Dick's mostly in love with nostalgia for their past rather than the person she is now (he 100% does love the person she is now!) and she's being unfairly bitchy about Catalina, but she's also correctly noted that he's gotten into the habit of deprioritizing their relationship in favor of vigilante busywork & that he's been a bit pushy in swooping in protectively rather than letting her fight her own battles, so when she's accusing him of being a control freak it's not completely coming from thin air; Dick responds by getting hurt, upset, and direct (he gets furious and punches something, but then makes a big sweet sincere emotional speech to her about how much he cares and values her, albeit one that's so caught up in his own emotions like wanting to "protect" her that he's not slowing down enough to take in her insecurities).
Cassie has correctly realized that dating Tim is a bad coping mechanism and she really needs to just deal with her grief over Conner; when she starts crying, at first Tim moves to comfort her, but when she actually clarifies the breakup, an upset Tim responds by aggressively de-emotionalizing the conversation and pretending he's being totally logical and not emotional about it - he first wonders aloud if he's a bad detective for not seeing it coming and then attempts a bonkers guilt-trip suggestion that it's their duty to date in order to uhhh avoid turning evil in the bad future (sdfsfdsfdsfds sure tim nice try)
This isn't because Tim literally doesn't have feelings, because of course he does! But often, the more upset he is, the worse he gets at clearly expressing those feelings, and the more he intellectualizes them or avoids discussing them.
(Caveat: The trouble with any distinction is that it's easy to exaggerate it in ways that are oversimplified, and I want to emphasize that this doesn't reduce to "Dick always expresses emotions, Tim is never emotional," or anything like that. Dick has a bunch of complicated feelings about the intensity of his emotions because he values control and detachment and often is trying to be more detached (I talk more about this in the context of anger here and here); Tim often retreats to faux-analytical detachment when he's actually very emotional; and these are tendencies rather than one-note 24/7 truths - Dick is completely capable of intellectualizing away his emotions; Tim is completely capable of just getting straightforwardly and directly upset. But if you're looking for broad distinctions, I think it's fair to say that Dick's usually better at directly using his words and expressing his emotions, even if he sometimes feels self-conscious shame about it later, whereas Tim tends to self-sabotage and deflect and hide by producing intellectualized faux-logic instead of just being direct about what he wants or what he's feeling.)
An unrelated issue is that Tim also tends to get intrusive when he's anxious, and it gets worse the more he cares about you. Tim really really really wants to know what's going on and has an intense Need To Help, which generally works out for him - this is the entire reason he pushes his way into the Batfamily! - but it's easy to imagine Tim running into people who might not appreciate his busybody sneakiness; so e.g. secretly stalking your friend because he has a bruise, or running your friend's DNA, etc., is... stuff that all comes from how much Tim cares, but also it involves a very fuzzy relationship with other people's privacy, so Tim's friendships that stick around tend to be with people who find this kind of intense observation to be caring rather than pushy. Relatedly, Tim's version of "be protective" can overlap with "be condescending," which means he tends to get along best with confident people like Bruce, who could punt him into a wall and who thus finds Tim's 'disapproving medic' shtick endearing instead of insulting.
Tim also struggles to connect to people for whom he doesn't have an obvious "script" or who don't respond to his usual scripts. So e.g. offering Gar a "you don't like me but let's be friends" handshake worked; offering Cass a "let's be friends" handshake worked; offering the same thing to Damian did not go over so well; and I think this kind of "it usually works so this is my habit now?" thing is very Tim, and I don't think it's the sort of mistake that Dick would make.
More broadly, because Tim's people skills are conscious and learned - the effort sometimes shows! He stares at people. He secretly spies on them. He pokes around in their secrets. Dick can be paying close attention to you and seem like he's not, so that his awareness seems effortless and less intrusive. I think Tim's awareness tends to be a bit more effortful.
That said, though, I don't think that Tim's intensely-observing-you shtick is necessarily obvious except to people who are fairly socially-skilled themselves. When I write fanfic, I generally write from Dick's POV, and I tend to write Dick being hyperaware of when, say, Tim's observing him, or trying to figure out what's going on with him. But I think of that as more "Dick's good at reading Tim and really aware of being watched, so every attempt at subtlety stands out in neon lighting," and I think to someone who's less good at reading people than Dick is, Tim is a lot subtler.
And I think for e.g. someone like Cass, who really struggles with people skills, Tim seems impossibly and naturally good at interactions in the same way that to Tim, Dick seems incredibly good at it.
#ask tag#dick grayson#tim drake#hi anon this is SO OLD i'm so sorry sdfdsfds#i am very slow & this is very long because i kept adding things to it but this was a very fun ask thank you <3
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[Task force 141 × Gen Z! Reader/ General headcanons] [p4]
A/N; I thought the hyperfixation was over but surprise it is not LMAO, sorry for the long wait, mentally I was fucked and just tired/burnt out
Ghost is the one who usually trains the recruits, which means he needs to demonstrate moves on. That's where you come in. You can see the recruits tension filled bodies stare at your own bc what the fuck you do mean this 6'4 man is gonna use a finishing move on you.
You crack jokes that Ghost would never hurt a fly before you're flipped on your ass and Ghost is leaning his entire weight on you.
They use you as weights, mainly Soap. It is not an odd occurrence for recruits on base to see you sit on Soaps back while he does push-ups. You usually will be scrolling on your phone on tiktok and Laswell just sighs and takes a picture of yall to show to her wife.
Ghost uses you as a barbell basically and you enjoy being manhandled so you're just happy to be there.
Soap likes to play fight, he will playfully hit your sides and will tickle you while you run around desperately trying to evade his grasps. The only time he stops really is when either Price steps in or when Ghost fucking clothe lines him and he falls on his face. Soap sees you giggling behind Ghosts body and rolls his eyes.
All the guys have you on social media, even Ghost though he notably has no pfp, a generic user, only follows you. He is the first one to like any of your posts and makes appearances on your account and no one knows it's him for sure.
Soap takes your phone and scrolls thru your folder of memes, sending whichever ones he particular enjoys to himself. He really likes reaction images and uses them with everyone and people just ignore it and continue on texting like he didn't just send a picture of a woman crying.
You like to send ghost references you're sure he will not understand and he feels his blood pressure rise every day.
When they learn if you can't, you know, drive for the first time is also a real good time. Ghost is in the back, a bullet in his forearm, Price shouting at you to floor it and by God you fucking floor it so hard Ghost slams his head into the wall of the car and passes out. Price screams that you should've been fucking taught this in training but you shrug your shoulders, knuckles whitened as you shakily haul ass to evac.
It's a running joke that Alejandro and Rudy want you on their team, they playfully try and make negotiations
"Come on, she would be happier with us, no?"
Alejandro has a hand placed on the small of your back, inching you closer to his side in the booth of some random bar yall were dragged too. You're blushing and sputtering bc oh wow two more very attractive men are asking to take you an-
"I agree with Colonel, we can work something out." Then Rudy goes and kisses your hand and Ghost feels his eye twitch and Soap is stanced the fuck up immediately, leaning over and almost pulling across the table.
"Yea no, you two can fuck off with that shit." He grumbles, squeezing his arms around your waist. If he was a dog his hackles would be raised and his teeth bared.
Rudy can't help but lean in and whisper to Alejandro:
"Realmente deberías dejar de bromear con ellos así" (you should really stop joking with them like that)
Alejandro turns and looks dead into Rudy's eyes and hits him with
"¿Quién dijo que estaba bromeando?" (Who said I was joking?)
"Colonel, with all due respect stop fucking with my men, they're gonna pop a bloody blood vessel."
Gaz and you go to cat cafes fairly often!! He finds it extremely relaxing and he often goes whenever he goes on leave with you. No he doesn't correct the batista who thinks yall are married. He says it's because of a discount (there is none).
Price simply loves when you come visit and spend time with him in the city, walking arm and arm while he hums and listens to you ramble. Whether it be about your hyperfixations, you venting or ranting, he's there listening while watching you intently.
Price walks with you inwards of the sidewalk, do not try and move bc he will glare at you.
Valeria, oh she likes you, one bc you're a cute little thing. But mostly because she knows it'll get under everyone's skin if she even makes a mention of taking you. It especially pisses Alejandro off so she makes sure she calls you princess and blows you a kiss when they close the container door on her.
Ghost likes to come up behind you and pulls on the elastics of your holsters really far and let's them slap against your skin to see you whine and whimper. It never fails to make him laugh.
Ghost will not hesitate to beat the shit out of someone who tries to do it to you though, esp a random recruit.
Soap likes to carry you around on his back, it isn't a strange thing but he just genuinely loves the feeling of you against him. He doesn't care if you think you're 'too big', he's gonna pick you up so be quiet and let him hold you.
You've stolen multiple things of their items, not even on purpose but they left it in your room and now it's yours.
You have a skull balaclava, Ghost once came in and said it was too small for him and threw it on your bed and left. He will feel his heart tighten in his chest if you wear it outside of base.
You have a shit ton of Soap's muscle shirts, he is not upset but he will smile so soft when he sees you walk around in it in the early morning, your hair a mess and still a bit of drool on your lips.
Gaz buys you your own hats in attempt for you to stop taking his. It doesn't help. He flicks the brim and always has some cheeky remark about it but he doesn't mind.
You have one of Prices' lighters that you stim with on or off mission. He doesn't even realize until one day you have a lighter with the England flag on it and you're playing with it bc you're anxious. He doesn't say anything though.
Taglist:
@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess
@stupid-ninja @milkmily
@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii
@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel
@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains
@marsbar127xx @baddump
@xncasi @king-cookiex
@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager
@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom @solarslushee @areislol
[If you want to be tagged, comment under my pinned post]
#ghost <3#soap <3#price <3#gaz <3#call of duty#call of duty x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#price x reader#ghost x reader#gen z! headcanons#kayla writes <3#cod#john mactavish x reader#fem reader
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