#i love everyone who i follow and write with
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Hi sorry if this is a weird ask but my birthday is the 24th and I would love it if I could wake up that morning to both Lucifer and Alastor absolutely ravishing reader. Just pure smut and aftercare please
I did fem reader I hope that’s okay, it’s who I write the most so I thought maybe you just wanted what I commonly wrote. sorry it’s a little late, and also shhh it’s a secret because I can’t write birthday stories for everyone due to time. But you were the first to ask and you asked so far in advance so—
Surprise!
「warnings/promises: Alastor x FemReader x Lucifer, smut, barely a plot, tug of war, you are the rope, slight kink with breath play and restraint, attempt at aftercare, lost balloons, mention of dead deer (roadkill)」
🎂 Minors please no 🎉 🎈 this an an 18+ only party 🥂
You weren’t sure what you were expecting when the typically reserved Alastor now (seemingly) tipsy invited you to his room. He was always touchy, but the more he drink the longer his hands would stay on you. So naturally you said nothing at all and followed him out of the parlor.
And you had no idea what to think when the King of Hell saw you being pulled by the wrist and stopped you both.
There was some bickering about where you were going and what Alastor thought he was doing. The overlord making a joke about height and size. The former angel mentioning experience.
Soon both wrists were being held but by different demons.
Ripping you apart seemed like a possibility, but somehow you ended up in an even more difficult situation to accept than second death.
Both refusing to go to the other’s room you were dragged to your own.
Arguing around you, you were moved and turned before Lucifer snapped his fingers and your clothes fell off you at the seams. You turned to see both men nude and slowly leading you to bed. No complaints, you enjoyed just following their directions.
You couldn’t be sure how they came to their final agreement but soon you were lying on top of Alastor, impressive cock rubbing against your clit and a large portion of your lower stomach as Lucifer was fucking you from behind. The way he angled did feel practiced, so the king of lies wasn’t bluffing earlier.
Alastor's body was so warm under yours, the leaking of his precum spreading across your skin with every thrust from Luci’s hips. Your swollen clit and wet lips were sliding up and down Alastor’s base, stroking him harshly as you had no power over the movement.
“Good girl,” Lucifer’s hands roamed down your body, “Let me hear your voice.”
You could barely speak, the feeling of Luci’s large cockhead dragging along your walls was keeping your mouth busy with moans.
Another surprise, Alastor’s arms coming up and wrapping around you tightly. Any space between you was gone. With your body immobilized except for where your hips moved as you were pierced by Lucifer, Alastor began to hump up against you for the chase of release. The faster he moved, the louder and more uncontrolled your noises became.
“Stop being selfish, roadkill.” A yank of your hips pulling you a little too harshly down on Lucifer, ass flush with his crotch. A small scream into the radio demon’s chest.
“Now those are pretty sounds.” Alastor said through gritted teeth, ignoring the devil entirely.
Another tug of war, but not with your wrists. One man’s hands on your waist holding you still so he could rut into your soft flesh. The other man’s hands on your hips so he could bring to meet every thrust into your now dripping cunt.
“Ffuuuck,” Luci clamored on top of you, hips pistoning down like an animal with a singular unmet need. “Gonna cum.”
Why did he feel the need to tell you? You could feel him already pulsing as he pressed against your cervix. Yet the words alone sent a shot of electricity to your lap.
As Lucifer’s hips slowed, Alastor took the opportunity to regain control. It wasn’t clear if he knew how good it felt when he rubbed against you. You clenched around the still stiff and twitching cock buried in you and focused on the increasingly wet slip of Alastor’s shaft over your swollen clit. The pressure of Lucifer’s body weight pressing you down added a new level of arousal you hadn’t felt before, the feeling of being held down, of your breath being restricted just in the slightest. Quickly you found yourself reaching a breaking point, a small mountain you barely made it to the crest of before Alastor came across your stomach and his own, your chest not escaping the impressive shot. The small movements of his hips afterwards and the feeling of him cumming so much pushed you over the cliff and into your own orgasm.
Lucifer hissed above you, “Woah, that’s— you’re gonna make me cum again if you keep squeezing like that.” With a pat to your ass he pulled out and dismounted. Your shakey arms you lifted yourself off of Alastor, who was already holding a towel and wiping his chest clean. He was muttering to himself about something, his face screwed up at the sight. When you fell face down back onto the bed Lucifer crawled over Alastor to sit just below the swell of your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back. A groan, a mix of pleasured massage and painful bullying of sore muscles.
He was shoved off of you, Alastor rolling you over gingerly to wipe at your stomach and attempt to get your blanket clean as well.
“Definitely worth the brief nudity, dear.” His usual smile soft, you were confident it was a compliment.
Lucifer popped up again, a jack in the box of human proportions, “You’re an ass.” He reached for you hand and rubbed circles into your palms as he spread out the often used muscles there. “Feeling okay?” You nodded, a chill coming over you.
Alastor’s turn now, a green glow and a snap and you found yourself clothed again. Not your clothes, but you didn’t particularly care. Alastor was back to his usual attire, but for some reason Lucifer remained stark naked except his large hat. Had it been there the entire time?
Before you could find the will to ask, the doors burst open with a loud blaring honk of an air horn, “SURPRISE!” The hotel staff and star resident cheered, “HAPPY BIR-,”
“What in the actual the fuck.” Angel pointed at the obvious.
“Dad!”
“Nah I’m out.” Husk let the balloons float to the ceiling and left.
Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes clenched with not-at-all hidden aggravation, “What the fuck, you were supposed to trick her into going to the library Alastor! We were waiting for like 30 minutes! Pendejo.”
Alastor shrugged, “Eh I had a better idea.”
A loud noise above you, a kazoo having appeared in Lucifer’s mouth. His hands shot up with an exhausted excitement, “Happy Birthday!”
why do I love writing reader being walked in on??
#alastor x reader#lucifer magne x reader#radioapple#radioapple x reader#Hazbin hotel smut#alastor smut#alastor x reader smut#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x lucifer#alastor x you
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I HATE IT HERE | JACK HUGHES
summary: in which her relationship with jack seems too good to be real. (0.7k words)
authors note: taylor really called out us delusional girlies and daydreamers with this song! it’s my favorite on the album and it deserves something so enjoy this very short writing!
"come on, don't be scared," jack chuckles as he slowly guides you. you look down, a suspiciously nice pair of skates clad to your feet.
"i'm going to fall!" you squeal, attempting to mimic the way he skates.
his giggle fills the cold air surrounding you. after a day of cozying up together in jack’s lake house, he gets the bright idea that he wants to teach you how to skate. after going to the store and buying you a pair of skates— that he won’t specify the price of— he leads you outside onto the ice. it takes you about ten minutes to even step foot onto the frozen death trap. but with your boyfriend’s persuasive smile and adorable face, you land yourself on the ice, anxiously moving your feet side to side.
"you're fine," he says, his hand moving to your waist. in the cold michigan evening, his hand on your waist sends warmth up your spine.
it all feels too surreal. from the dusting of snow around you to the romantic atmosphere, you feel like you're in one of your favorite romance novels. it all feels too familiar, and at the same time, your eyes scan around you, trying to treasure the moment.
jack stares up at you with a toothy grin. he looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world; like you hung the stars in the sky.
“what are you looking at, rowdy?” you say with a smug expression. his face flushes a deep maroon and his eyes fall to the ground. “going shy on me now, are we?”
“i feel like you’re forgetting who’s teaching you how to skate right now.” his hand falls down your waist, giving your butt a squeeze. your bottom lip juts out as he lets out a boyish grin.
“shut up and show me how to move faster.” you retort, though a pink blush still lingers on your cheeks.
jack takes one hand off of your waist, turning his body and slowly demonstrating how he pushes his leg out at an angle. he swiftly picks up speed as you hold onto him. it looks so simple. all it is, is the movement of his legs and feet, but as you try it, you slip, clinging to jack’s body and pulling him down with you.
somehow, his body hits the ice first and you land on top of him. your eyes are wide as you both look at each other. as the realization of what happens sets in, you both bark out in laughter. you snuggle your face into the crook of his neck, an attempt to silence your laughter.
“i love you so damn much.” he says in pure awe.
“i love you so damn much!” you mock him, lifting your head from his chest and staring at him below you.
his cheeks are pink from the cold and his hair a wavy mess that not even the winter hat on his head can hide. your eyes flick down to his lips. they look so plump and kissable.
you lower face, stopping just an inch above his lips. he smirks, “what are you waiting for?” his words are barely above a whisper, eliciting butterflies in your stomach.
but just as your lips press against his, you hear a distant voice.
“y/n?” mr. samson, your ap history teacher, calls out. “are you paying attention?”
you blink, looking around the classroom. you’re in high school, not michigan, and the boy nearest to you is not jack hughes. the realization sets in, causing a pit in your stomach. you suddenly feel nauseous.
had you daydreamed about a relationship with jack hughes once again? no, you couldn’t have. it seemed so real; it felt so real. it was almost like you could feel jack’s hands on your waist, leaving a permanent stain of warmth around your hips.
you swallowed harshly as everyone’s eyes followed you awaiting an answer. “y-yes.” your voice was shaky. people in the back of the classroom snickered at you as others furrowed their brows. your skin felt hot with embarrassment. it was nothing like the flush you felt when jack complimented you.
“ok then.” mr. samson said as he continued his lesson.
you sighed, grabbing your pencil and copying down the notes on the board. you pushed back the recollections of your daydream, putting them into one of the many secret gardens in your mind. they would stay there patiently awaiting until you unlocked and relived them again.
if only.
#nora’s writings 💐#jack hughes#new jersey devils#nhl imagine#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes imagines
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could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^
more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this
type of post: short fics
characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus
additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc
If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
Trey and Cater's Ending
"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"
Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?
Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"
Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.
"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."
Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.
"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"
Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.
"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"
Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"
"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."
"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.
---
"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.
It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.
Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"
"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."
"...Understandable,"
Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.
"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."
You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"
"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."
Leona's Ending
"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.
"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"
Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"
"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"
He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.
---
"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."
You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.
"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."
"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."
Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.
"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"
He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"
"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"
"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"
"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.
You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.
"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"
He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."
You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.
It could be better, but it could also be worse.
Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.
This could definitely be interesting...
Rook's Ending
"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."
At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."
"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"
Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.
As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.
What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.
The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.
He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."
...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.
"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.
"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.
"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"
You couldn't have said it better yourself.
Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"
The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"
You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.
Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.
It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.
"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"
"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.
Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"
"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"
He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.
Idia's Ending
LOL. Normies.
Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.
I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.
That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...
The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.
He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.
Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"
"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"
"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"
Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"
Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"
"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"
"Well-"
"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"
"But Idia-"
"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"
"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.
"Idia, you won!"
And then he dies.
That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.
"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.
"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"
A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.
"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"
He takes a long moment to respond.
"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"
You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.
"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"
"I could go for something,"
Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.
"Um..."
He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"
He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.
"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"
He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.
Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"
"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"
"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"
"Clever," you murmur.
Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"
"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"
You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"
You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.
"Well? Are you coming?"
Lilia's Ending
"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"
Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"
Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"
Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.
Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"
"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.
---
You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.
You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"
"Surprised, you say?"
No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.
You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.
Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.
"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"
Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.
"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"
You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.
"No,"
"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"
"Definitely not, then,"
He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.
It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.
"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.
Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"
There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.
"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"
"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"
You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"
"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"
"Then... who is?"
Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"
Ah.
If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.
This might take the cake, though.
"I didn't even know-"
"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"
"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"
"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"
"This is... quite the turn of events,"
"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"
You can only grimace at that.
Malleus' Ending
During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.
Not that it mattered. Not this time.
One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.
"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.
Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"
Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.
Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.
"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.
You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...
"Yes,"
Oh.
"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.
Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"
"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."
Oddly profound.
You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.
"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."
He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"
"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"
Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.
And the, he smiles.
"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"
What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"
"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"
He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"
You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.
"Yes, it does,"
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#malleus enjoyers this goes out to you. and rook being weird enjoyers (me)#cater diamond x reader#trey clover x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#rook hunt x reader#idia shroud x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader#malleus draconia x reader#the varying lengths of these... RIP. sorry everyone
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OHHH I’m rewatching the walking dead too :3 do you have any ideas for it? I always think about zombie apocalypse aus when I watch shows like that
Ghost as Negan OKAYYYY ^^
oh god i just love zombie apocalypse stories so much. i don't think i'd ever write a fic that takes place in the walking dead universe, but i've already written a ghost/reader zombie apocalypse prompt and i'd write another in a heartbeat if i had the time/energy (and also when i finish my current wips).
i have a basic idea for a price/reader fic where reader is a single mother who escaped from the city with her baby when Price stumbles onto them and decides it's his job to keep them safe.
i'd also love to get back to my ghost/reader roots and write something for him, because i love the image of Ghost shutting down in the wake of the world ending, like the threads of his humanity fraying in this new world where he doesn't have to put up the facade of civility. he just has to survive, which he's good at - what he's made for, in fact. i think this is the one type of storyline where i wouldn't write him as immediately being obsessed with reader, but only because he's shut down so much of humanity that it doesn't really register at first.
so maybe this is a case of him happening upon reader when she's in a serious bind and he only saves her because it's to his own benefit (exterminating zombies or getting rid of worse people), and she's the one that follows him, that begs him to team up with her because she's lost everyone else and she's been on her own for days or weeks. and she just won't leave him alone, even when he threatens her, so he very slowly begins to warm up to her and lets her tag along with him.
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I legitimately think a lot of people get too hung up on how other people write or draw characters (both in MCYT and outside of it). I sometimes feel like there's so much bitterness towards fellow fandom members just because they've chosen to enjoy a character or corner of the fandom in a different way. Do you picture the characters the same way the creators are IRL? Fun! Do you have a much more fanonized interpretation because you want to separate the characters from creators? Great! Do you tend to lean toward one kind of design overall in your art because that's just how you enjoy the act of creation? Fantastic!
Short, tall, thin, fat, human, hybrid, something entirely undefinable - every single option is correct. Every single option is right. That's the point of creativity and creative liberty. That's the point of fandom and the whole reason why fan art and fan fiction exist - to take what canon gives you and make something, whether that something clings to canon's every note, or if that something turns canon on its head. Especially if it turns canon on its head.
This is a vast fanbase built upon a sandbox game, and any creations we make should be treated the same. It doesn't matter if it doesn't fit the bill for what someone else thinks, and it doesn't matter if it doesn't fit some standard mold. If everyone else views Grian as a parrot avian, but you love writing him as a cod? Do it! If a lot of folks depict Tango as a blazeborn, but you fucking love the idea of him being an android? Well, for god's sake, what's stopping you? Make him an android! Does everyone else write Bdubs as short, but you think it'd be really funny if he was taller than half the hermits, so the short jokes are even more ridiculous? Then, holy shit, I wanna see that!
But to roll back to the point, fan creations is meant to be fun. And all of you out there being picky? As a viewer of other peoples' art and writing, don't go telling people they're "doing it wrong". Don't be critical. Don't tell someone they need to "do better" if their portrayal doesn't line up with what's in your head. There's no rules here. And similarly, there's no quota we need to meet on variety. There's no law someone is breaking if they're not following your expectations. If you're a viewer of art and fics, and you're pissed at someone because you believe they don't draw or write someone tall enough or short enough or thin enough or fat enough or young enough or old enough - make it yourself. Don't detract from someone else's joy just because their version of having fun in the fandom doesn't line up with yours.
People are going to create what they love. People write and draw from a place of inspiration and enjoyment and fun. If they choose to share it, they're doing that for free and of their own free will. They didn't share it for you. Fan artists and fan writers aren't here to be your dancing monkeys, we're here to just have fun. If you aren't seeing enough of whatever you're expecting to see, then don't demand it from other people who were proud enough of a piece of art to share it with the world. Make it yourself.
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which one’s toshiro and whys he autistic?
[ID: full body colored illustration of toshiro from the dungeon meshi manga. /End ID]
THIS FREAKIN GUY!!!! anyway
[ID: anonymous tumblr ask: "would def love to hear ur autistic shuro thoughts". /End ID]
awesome. rant under the cut because it will be long
So before we understand why Toshiro is the way he is we must first understand two things abt him:
1. his household situation is a very traditional clan of warriors type situation. his father is very strict and he left his homeland to go to the Island and explore the dungeon to train and become a warrior to be someone suited as the family head
2. Eastern and Western cultures of respect/propriety are different, and Ryoko Kui highlights it well even in her fantasy world.
With that in mind, heres some bullet point rapid fire thoughts that consume my current state of dunmeshi brain:
Toshiro has an avoidant personality. He fears upsetting others due to his upbringing, and rarely tells others how he feels not because he thinks they would simply understand him but because he doesn't want to seem rude and imposing / cause offense to others especially since he's not in his own homeland / hes a foreigner that should respect the land's customs, not his own wishes.
Setting boundaries is hard for everyone, but especially autistic (and some other ND, like those with Avoidant Personality Disorder) people. Those with ASD, at least in my experience, don't want to be isolated from others. So they mask.
They mask what? their desires. their true selves. their opinions. their discomfort. all for the sake of pleasing others (who are often neurotypical)
With that in mind, suddenly, what Maizuru said abt him as a child makes sense. Due to his strict upbringing, Toshiro had to more or less hide his preferences and force himself to adapt to the rigid constraints of his culture and the pressure to be the next family head, this responsibility is his burden to bear and he cannot be someone who expresses his selfish desires instead of focusing on being a strong warrior and leader
"Why did he say he hate Laios and that it should've been obvious that he disliked/found Laios' treatment of him uncomfortable??" BECAUSE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. I'm not going to write off Laios' autism/autistic coding, but its baffling (note: definitely racism and bias for white autistic ppl) to me that a lot of ppl don't see Toshiro's perspective and straight up ignores it. This is a lack of wanting to be rude by speaking up that is based on culture difference on Toshiro's part, and straight up ignorant of his microagressions/racism and lack of self awareness on Laios' end. They were both right, they were both wrong too. This is a complicated conflict that cannot be boiled down to simple ableist/the NT vs ND divide. There's something called . intersectionality. Which brings me to the next point
Toshiro never actually hated Laios. He found him uncomfortable, yes. But he didn't /hate/ him, he was speaking out because he's had enough!!! he's done tolerating Laios' racist bullshit, and he's done following the arbitrary Eastern rules of respecting others and not being rude!!! He. Wants. Laios. To Understand. What. He. Was. Feeling. Because he just had enough!!!!! alright!!! he's at his limit hes at his breaking point, the one he loves is now probably beyond saving, and this is a good time as any to break the news to Laios that he thinks that Laios is impulsive and doesn't fully understand how his actions have consequences!!! Hes right abt this. His feelings on this is valid, just as valid as Laios'
General autistic traits I find from Toshiro: his admiration of Falin's indifference towards insects ("woah shes so brave and gentle!! just like me, fr!!!"), His lack of regard for his own needs and wants (needing to sleep and eat and drink) because he was super focused on saving Falin, His lack of like drastic expression changes, his discomfort with physical touch when it's initiated without consent (see: Laios hugging ppl extra bonus art by Ryoko Kui), his manner of like speaking short and concise, people pleasing tendencies, his like quick way of combat, rule upholder/routine following enjoyer, he seems distant from others even those he consider family not cuz of like any terrible reason but hes just. someone who enjoys his own time alone like. yeah
aannnnndd. thats abt it? i think.
Big part of this is definitely me relating to Shiro as an Asian (specifically chinese indonesian) person who is probably Autistic lmao. I hope this brings more insight on why Toshiro is actually one of the silliest and epiccest dunmeshi characters ever I love him
#asks#dungeon meshi#toshiro nakamoto#dunmeshi#L 👁️🗨️🌫️ !#shuro dunmeshi#(help)#idk if he has tags. does he have fans here. pls say he does
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Hey.
Go ahead and get settled because this will be...long, in true Liz fashion.
So, by now I'm sure most of you have heard what's happened. If not, you can search this blog for some answers or others for more.
I joined this fandom offiicially at the end of September after being a long time lurker. I had just lost my job and times were uncertain for me. I felt inspired to write, and as someone whose formative years were shaped by the fandom experience, I wanted to feel that sense of belonging again - to feel like a part of a community. I've talked about it on here before, but I started my fandom days in the original Hunger Games fandom when the first movie had just come out, and then I shifted gears towards the SuperWhoLock fandom. If you know anything about SuperWhoLock, then you know you had to have pretty tough fucking skin to be a part of any of it.
Of course, this was back in the day when fandom was an actual community and not authors having to beg for scraps of engagement and people thinking its a numbers game. I was a fairly large blog within the SuperWhoLock community (Waywardly-Carrying-On was the username), but I left fandom for a few years because life got hectic and I felt like I had outgrown the fandom itself as I was no longer watching any of the shows. As the years went on, I started to yearn for the fandom experience again, which is how I found myself dipping toes into several different ones.
I was so excited to publish my first fanfic. I had convinced myself that I wasn't a good writer (much to the chagrin of my irl friends), and I had put a pause on writing my original story. I wanted to write this idea about a cowboy and a girl using characters that I had grown to love like I did way back in my older days. So, I started posting, and I was so excited for the story, that I kept posting almost daily. MamaMay was one of the first people to embrace not only my story, but me as a person into the fandom. She made me feel welcomed and wanted.
Pretty much right off the bat I was already getting anons telling me that I was being too much and that I needed to calm down with all the posting. I was confused because...this is Tumblr. It's literally a blogging website? Why wouldn't I post? I decided to ignore the mean words (not before giving my opinion, of course) and kept on doing my thing. Well, the anons got continually worse and worse. I had a suspiscion as to who the anons could be, but I never had concrete proof. So, I experimented with blocking suspects until finally it worked. I'm not naming names because that's not my style, so don't even bother asking.
The fact of the matter is, some of you have entered fandom spaces for the first time, and you don't know how to act. You don't care to learn fandom etiquette as you've made abundantly clear by calling fandom olds every name under the sun while utilizing the anonymous feature. Newsflash, you're part of the problem. You're the reason why authors don't want to publish anymore. You are the reason that something that's supposed to be fun is starting to feel like a goddamn chore.
How many times can authors on here say that we aren't machines? We have lives outside of this website: family, friends, jobs, school, etc. Some of you really are just hellbent on making everyone around you miserable, and it's sad. You can't just leave well enough alone and let people enjoy something, no you feel like everyone has to enjoy it the same way as you.
Some of you go after authors on here because of some weird sense of jealousy too. I don't know why my shit blew up, babe, I really don't. But I started out with no followers and no support just like everyone else. I'll tell you what helped me though: following fandom etiquette and reaching out to other creators to build an actual community. None of this "I've reblogged three of your things and now I'm messaging you so that you return the favor." No, I reached out to make actual friendships which is what fandom is SUPPOSED to be. If someone was clearly not interested, it was fine!! I backed off and kept doing my own thing.
Some of you think being mean on the internet makes you big and bad. Guess what! It doesn't! It's loser mentality and I feel genuinely sorry for you. I'm sorry that people in your own life made you feel so small as to feel like you had to lash out at strangers on the internet who are just trying to have fun.
Anyway, this is my really long way of saying that I am taking a break for a little bit. I have no idea how long it will be - could be the weekend, could be a couple of weeks, could be forever. I need time to decide if this is something I want to keep persuing. If I come back, I don't know if I will remain a TGM blog or if I'll shift gears and hop into another fandom with a rebrand. Guess we'll just have to see.
To the people on here who have been a constant source of joy, laughter, and support: thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Your presence has meant everything to me, and I hope that my break sees me wanting to come back and giggle about the silly plane movie with you all again.
Nothing but love,
Liz 💛
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Bruce's Bathtime - Batfamily Sitcom
Bruce's mistake was thinking he could have a peaceful night in the bath on his day off when his manor is full of kids who share one brain.
A/N: HELLO EVERYONE I LOVE YOU AND IM SORRY I DISAPPEARED BUT I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING SWEET FOR YOU TO ENJOY. THIS IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY "BATH" BY SAM AND MICKEY ON YOUTUBE.
WORDS: 1.7K
WARNINGS: NONE. IT'S WHOLESOME AND SWEET.
MASTERLIST
——-
Crime rates were always at an all-time low in time for the Superbowl.
Which meant Batman gets a day off. Duke was the only one on patrol that night. Alfred spent half an hour convincing him not to spend the night at the cave.
“Master Bruce, the bath has been drawn and I’ve taken the liberty of using the expensive lavender bath salts so you would not like to waste it.”
“You’re right, Alfred. I’m a billionaire and I find the fifty-dollar lavender salts a waste to not use.”
“Just get in the bath, Master Wayne. Just thirty minutes of quiet shall do you good. I’ve set an alarm.”
Since when did Bruce start working for him?
He did as told anyway. Bruce closed the bathroom door and stripped off his clothes to get in the tub. There were so many callouses in his body, he barely felt just how burning the temperature was.
It was just a minute in there when the first knock woke him from drifting off.
“Bruce?”
What the hell is Dick doing out of Bludhaven? “What?”
“Is the music room haunted?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I heard something inside.”
“Instruments tend to do that.”
“I did a headcount of everyone in the manor and everyone is accounted for except Duke who you sent out for patrol so I doubt it’s anyone but a ghost,” Dick said.
“Get out.”
“But I’m not even inside the bathroom.”
“Go away.”
“What if it’s not a ghost? What if it’s a spy?”
“The manor has more advanced security systems than the Pentagon, Dick.”
“That’s not a good point of comparison.”
Bruce closed his eyes and let the steam slow his rising blood pleasure.
“Just check the room. Could have been the wind.”
“I’m too scared.”
This man was almost thirty and was still giving Bruce the same amount of aneurysms as when he was eight.
“Ask Alfred to check for you.”
“Okay.”
He heard fading footsteps and let them lull him into sleep. He set his large arms onto the sides of the tub, sinking his mouth under the water.
“Father,” a voice said from out the door followed by three soft knocks by a small hand.
“What, Damian?”
“I need you to sign this letter from the school headmaster.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
He doubted that.
“It’s for a parent-teacher conference.”
Bruce let the silence answer for him until Damian gave in.
“Someone attacked me in class.”
“Damian-“
“Okay, I threw the first punch but he taunted me first about how I was small for my age but I said that I’m of perfect size for my age and that I’m simply too smart to be crowded into elementary school children when my intellect belongs to that of a senior and then he asked what I was doing here and not in 5th grade and I said what was he doing here and not in 5th grade and he spat at me and now his nose is broken and they want you to cover the medical bills.”
Christ.
“Maybe you don’t have to pay it. You can call them yourself. You’re Bruce Wayne. You can get away with anything.”
“I can, but you’re not Bruce Wayne, so you have to deal with it.”
“Can you just sign this, Father?”
“Fine.”
Damian walked in, fanning the steam off his face and covering his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his own father naked, then handed him the letter to sign it.
“Make sure your handwriting is the same as when I forged it.”
His eyes could not have rolled further back into his skull.
The boy walked out, just two seconds before the next set of voices made him wish the gunman shot him in the head four decades ago and not just his parents.
“Bruce, could you tell Jason he’s not the only one who died and come back to life and that his robin costume doesn’t deserve to have to top display in the Batcave anymore especially since he’s here?” Tim said.
Jason’s voice was even more obnoxious. “I died first, asshole and no one else would have died if it weren’t for me so clearly, you should thank me. And my rebranding was better. You’re still technically a robin since, you know, it’s the other half of your name, so you don’t deserve to be memorialized.”
“You don’t deserve to be memorialized at all when you’re alive and not a memory. You’re not even the first robin.”
“You’re not the first anything.”
“I’m the first at a lot of things.”
“Replacement.”
“Glorified zombie.”
Bruce grabbed the cucumbers Alfred had laid out on the table next to him just so his eyes wouldn’t burst out in blood at how much he wanted to scream.
“Ask Alfred what to do,” Bruce said.
“Alfred is with Dick in the music room to look for ghosts. We need an answer now.”
“What do you even want me to do?”
“Tim threw my robin costume piled up with all their robin costumes when clearly, it should be in the display case,” Jason said. “And Tim wants to move my motorbike out of the cave.”
“You have so many motorbikes, would it hurt you to move just one?”
“No.”
“Bruce!”
Bruce counted to ten. “No.”
“No to what?”
“Everything.”
“You don’t even know what you’re saying no to.”
“I could not care any less.”
“Can we please come in?”
“No, I’m naked.”
“We’ve seen you naked.”
“Not on purpose.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Fine. Fine. We’ll get glass cases for both of you and we’ll pretend it’s a shrine as if you’re still dead. Happy?”
“Not from dying but sure,” said Tim.
“What about the motorbikes?”
“Put it outside,” said Bruce.
“Are you sure? What if someone sees?”
“Do whatever. Throw out the T-Rex in the cave for all I care.”
“Also, I need access to the batcomputers,” Jason said.
“For what?”
“Everyone else has access except me.”
“That’s for a reason, Jason.”
“Pretty please.”
“Get out.”
It took another five minutes of the two yapping at the other side of the door before it finally quieted down.
Then his phone started ringing. Duke.
That was when his blood pressure really started to spike.
“Duke? Is everything alright? What’s wrong?” he said to the phone.
“Me?” said Duke. “Oh yeah everything’s great! Not much crime when everyone’s watching the halftime show.”
“Then why’d you call?”
“Can I use the batmobile?”
Fuck a duck. “For what?”
“The streets are empty and you said I could drive it when there isn’t traffic.”
He hung up and threw the phone into the water before Duke could say anything else.
He had five minutes of quiet this time. Then Steph was at the door. “Bruce!”
An aneurysm. One of these days, he might actually have one.
“What now?”
“Can I change rooms?”
“Why?”
“Dick said there’s a ghost in the music room and my room is like five feet away and I don’t think I can sleep there anymore.”
“You slept there last night and everything is fine.”
“Ghosts can be quiet, Bruce, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. And you’ve made a lot of enemies, so I won’t be surprised if anyone’s settled in to haunt you.”
You’d think he wasn’t in a house full of vigilantes who fight the city’s most dangerous criminals.
“I haven’t killed anyone, Stephanie. I keep all my enemies alive.”
“What if it’s not your enemy? They don’t have to hate you to haunt you. Can I please just change rooms?”
“Move wherever you want. I don’t care.”
“Can I move to the bedroom at the west wing?”
“That’s mine,” Bruce said.
“You have a bedroom? I thought you never slept.”
“Fine. Take it. Just get out.”
“Really?” Steph squealed. “The master bedroom. Sweet!”
It took less than five seconds before the next reason for his headache started pounding at the door.
“Bruce! Jason is trying to hack into the batcomputer!”
“I did not!”
“He did!”
“The World’s Greatest Detective is just mad I guessed his password on the second try.”
Bruce sank into the water, drowning their yapping until it had blurred out. He held his breath for seven minutes straight. He could die. That wouldn’t be the worst thing. Just when it was finally quiet, again, Bruce rose up and found Damian sitting on the toilet.
He continued to look unbothered even when he looked at Bruce straight in the eye.
“Do you mind?”
“I’d like to use this toilet.”
“There’s fifteen bathrooms in the manor, Damian.”
“I like this one.”
“I understand I have not spent as much time with you, but this is not what your tutors mean by father-son bonding.”
“Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t mean to bond with you. I just like this toilet.”
“Fine. Please. Take your time.”
He did take his time. Damian sat there for a whole five minutes and pulled out a book.
“I wasn’t being serious. Get out of here.”
“Relax, father. It’s your day off.”
Bruce eyelids fluttered closed and he refused to open them until his son left the bathroom.
The next knock made a blood vessel pop. “Bruce. It’s me Barb. So sorry to bother you but I found another group of conspiracy theorists on the TikTok who made a list of billionaires who have never been seen in the same room as Batman and you’re the front liner of that list. I know you told me to never engage with these things but it’s at fifty million views right now and they’re making edits of you as Batman.”
“Make more bot accounts and pin it on Elon.”
“On it,” said Barbara. “So sorry to have disturbed you!”
He’s going to have a talk with Alfred to block off the whole floor the next time he draws these baths.
“Bruce?” It was Cass. “I hope it’s alright if I take Steph’s room. I took the liberty of putting a speaker in the music room so Dick would tell everyone there was a ghost in the manor and Steph would move out.”
The alarm went off. His thirty minutes were up.
One of these days, Bruce might finally break his no-kill rule, and it won’t be for the Joker.
---
A/N: I MISSED ALL OF YOU ASSHOLES AND I HOPE THIS WON'T BE THE LAST
TAGLIST
@karurururu @trixie-bb @childofposeidonforlife @fantasticwizardnerd @iibonniee @queenoftodd @foenixphire @omgtheywereroommates98 @spooklies @nyja-ls @jason-todd-is-my-husband @pieanq @spookyfrances @tacticaldivine @bathroom-sand @vicomtess @willieoo @consultingkilljoywinchester @elsenthal @willowoo @massiveathletefanauthor @chemicalpapercuts @the-abyss-of-fandoms @pparkeramorr @pricetagofficial @traceymoyashi @seutarose @littleredwing89 @astrids-pandora @nomalu1 @knightfall05x @lovelyartemisa @fourteengemstones @acookiesnmilkuniverse @24-7-multifandomsimp @xemiefx @cherry-glade @ @lilith1717 @yujikuna @dwboutit17 @ouflater @satan-s-ass @indigowcrds @little-prying-pandora @butwhyduh @killersandmonkeys @kierdlt @illzarr @ramdomtails @probsjosh @angel-lover-alice @evalynanne @adazzlingsakura @offendedfishnoises @lupinslibraries @comic-cat83 @jason-todd-is-my-husband @estrela-rogers @jadesublime @tedii-bear00 @andieperrie18 @willieoo @insanebatty @queennightsetz @mkknrd22robinlover @she-sees-fire @quintessences0posts @spideypoolfeelz @batgalsblog @mello-d @https-101iamtheredhood101 @offendedfishnoises
#BATMAN#bruce wayne#batfamily#wayne family#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#duke thomas#barbara gordon#cassandra cain#stephanie brown
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Hiii girl 🪻💐! First, nice to meet you xx ! I really love your vibe. Love purple pp 💜! Can I request a small os, please? I saw you wrote monegasque reader and all cute os. Can I ask you (you choose) Lando/Charles/Oscar with inked!reader (like full arms tattoos and stuff) it’s always wag so ✨perfect clean✨, I’m tired to see the clean vibe, I want to be delulu with rockie vibe, feminine tattooed wag, normal wag 😬. Topic could be : new tattoo with driver reaction or handle with people opinion. Thanks 💜🪻 if you’re not feeling to write it, it’s okay too. Have a nice day xx
Note: hiiii! Welcome to this little corner of the Internet I made along with everyone who follows this blog! Thank you - this is supposed to be as much a safe pace for you as it is for me 🫶 I hope you had a good day, too! 🫶
"Someone spotted you when you left the tattoo studio", Oscar said as he stepped inside the apartment after having spent the day in the Center, noticing you were wearing a cardigan even though it was a warm day out, "they posted a picture online".
"So it's not a surprise, is it?", you slumped your shoulders slightly, shrugging the cardigan off.
"I don't know what you got, so it's still a surprise, sweetheart", he smiled, hugging you and being mindful of the wrap around your arm.
Oscar sat on the sofa and allowed you to model the new tattoos for him. Your right arm didn't seem to have any new ink to it, the same three tattoos you had in there still looking beautiful after two years. You like the idea of having one arm slightly more bare than the other so your right arm only had those three on the inner side of it, peeking through whenever you were sleeveless tops. Your left arm was the one where the tattoos were the most noticeable, the ink pieces scattered along the extension of the limb.
"I got this one, it's a bee", you pointed to the inner part of your arm, "it represents my safe hive, the people who are always there for me even if I'm not there in person", you explained. You had moved in with Oscar a couple of months ago and, more than ever, you spent long periods of time away from your family since you travelled to see your boyfriend race as much as you could, "I know I can fly away, but no matter how far and how hard times can be, I'll always be able to come back".
"It looks so pretty, the detail on the wings is so precise", Oscar pointed out.
"I chose the artist at that studio because she is great at doing the fine line tatoos with red ink", you began again, smoothing out through wrap so Oscar could see, "it's a heart with some flowers blooming from it", you pointed to the anatomical drawing, "whenever I set myself to do something, I pour my heart and soul into it, and my intuition hasn't failed me, so it's a little symbol to that".
"The red is somehow both subtle against your skin and so eye catching as well, I think it's the contrast with this one here", Oscar lightly touched an older tattoo you had next to the new one.
"Then I got this one, which I am quite nervous to show you, actually", you admitted, looking at your right wrist and covering it for the mean time, "I know people are really fussy with having a relationship tattooed on you because things can change so fast, but I don't like to think like that - my tattoos represent times of my life and things that happened - and if anything happens and I can't absolutely tolerate it, I can always remove it", you shrugged your shoulders before uncovering it.
Oscar held your hand and inspected it gently - the thin knot was both black and red, symbolising you and Oscar with the different colours but tied together seamlessly.
"I had to get it on my right one because I wear my watch on the left", you mumbled and a little twinge of nervousness could be spotted in your tone given that he hadn't said anything, "do you like it?", you bit the bullet.
"I love it, it's so beautiful, delicate and feminine too", he smiled, kissing around it.
"I also got a lightning bolt here", you twisted your wrist, "this one is just black and it's quite tiny, but it's about all the times I insisted and persisted - my stubbornness too - and how much I value that in people", you smiled.
"You're stubborn? Never would have guessed it", your boyfriend teased, earning your giggles and an eyeroll from you, "the line is so beautiful, she did an amazing job!", he complimented.
"I also got my first neck tattoo", you mumbled, "well, it's the first time I do it there, not sure if that means I'll do another because it hurt a bit more than I expected", you blushed, letting Oscar pull your hair back so he could see it.
The red inked word was aligned with your ear, "I chose the word rare because it's a devotion to myself, my self-love - accepting that I'm not perfect and that that is okay - I love myself the way I am and it's also a lot thanks to you", you tried to keep the tears pooling on your eyes from falling, "you loved me for me, all of me, no matter how many times people liked to point out any of my tattoos or how I don't fit the 'wag role', and I want a reminder of it everyday", you smiled.
Oscar cupped your jaw gently, careful of the sore area as he kissed your lips in a hard, long, searing kiss, joining your foreheads afterwards, "I love you, Y/N, all of you", he whispered.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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Requested by: @kwo22
can you do one with Sakura with a s/o who just compliments him randomly at times and he gets all blushy ykk? Love ur writing for windbreaker !!!!!! <3
There are so many blushy Sakura panels in the manga. I adore all of them.
Haruka Sakura x reader
Randomly complimenting him and using pickup lines.
Even before your relationship with Haruka, you knew he was so, so, so easy to fluster. His blushing face quickly became one of your favourite features in the man. You thought he didn't like it in the beginning always yelling and awkwardly telling you not to embarrass him. Surprisingly, he didn't mind when you complimented him, even seeking out your praises whenever the possibility for one arrived.
Everyone in Bofurin was aware, that when you were near your boyfriend his face would be red most of the time. You just knew what to do to make him this way. Were you bad for using it for your entertainment? Maybe. But he loved you either way so..
"Your hair and eyes have been always bi-colour and you will always be-mine." You said to him once, while you walked to school.
"What?" He looked at you confused trying to understand what you meant.
You sighed deeply before turning to him.
"You know bi-colour, be-mine." You pointed first at his hair and then at you.
Another minute passed before his cheeks and ears burned red and he spluttered some things you couldn't understand turning away from you. You, however, laughed at his reaction and grabbed his hand before pulling him towards the school.
Haruka wasn't aware that it was the first of many pick-up lines you'd use on him just to get a reaction, you so loved.
The next one was when he'd just beat down some guys, while you were watching from the sidelines. You cheered him on throughout the fight and as the last guy fell down you bounced up to him.
"Oh wow, that last punch was something." You complimented trying to imitate your boyfriend.
He puffed out his chest his face slightly pink from the fight and, mostly, the praise. The smile on your face turned to a smirk as you brought your finger to your lips humming in thought.
"Is your dad a boxer?" You asked him your grin starting to show as you knew what you'd say next, while he wasn't aware what he got himself into.
"What no! You know well enough that-"
"Because you're a knockout!" You cut him off quickly sending a wink and finger guns in his direction.
He stared at you his face reddening but he was too stunned to speak.
"Ah, you prefer knight in shining armour more, huh?" You teased him and instantly tried to evade the light slaps he sent into your arm to make you stop.
He ran after you yelling for you to stop while you ran away laughing and arguing you would never, because you knew he secretly loved it.
Haruka knew your intentions pretty well when it came to these random compliments and pick-up lines. He thought that with time passing he would get used to them and they wouldn't have that kind of effect on him anymore. Oh how wrong he was.
Collecting Haruka from Bofurin you gave him some snacks you collected on your way. He thanked you but when he saw you looking left and right carefully, he followed your gaze before asking.
"What is it?"
"Be careful the police may be on to you." You whispered to him and he looked at you appalled.
"Why? I didn't do shit."
"For stealing my heart." You said swiftly kissing his cheek.
His face was once again bright red and a frown appeared on his face.
He just couldn't believe that instead of him handling the situations like that better it was you who got better at acting and tricking him.
"You're an idiot." He said munching on the chocolate you gave him, pretty much still flustered by you.
"But I'm your idiot." Your words made him choke on the thing and you helped him before erupting into belly laughter.
Haruka was still blushing no matter how many times you exposed him to your affectionate words. He finally came to realize that you just had that effect on him and he didn't mind it that much anymore.
Tags: @misticbullet
#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader#wind breaker (satoru nii)#wind breaker x reader#wind breaker#haruka sakura x reader
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I cannot tell you how loud I cackled when the card was revealed. One moment I was cooing at how cute this was and then I start straight up laughing at 2AM. The atrocious spelling of a child 🤣, i loved all of it! I'm wondering if the other kids notice Father's favoritism towards the reader, and how they would react? What if they bully Reader and Father steps up for Reader? 🤭 I love your characterization of Father in here. Much softer than canon which is what I needed.
~EL anon
would you like a new home? (pt 3.1)
forethoughts: thanks for the compliments about part two! i didn't expect my silly love letter to arlecchino to blow up haha. i originally was going to write this as just one big part but i changed plans. part two is called would you like some cake! i also planned for part two to be the last one but i had to sneak one in to give reader and father a happy ending of sorts :)
notes: gn!child!reader, NOT AN X READER READER IS A CHILD IN THIS!!!
You never cared about what the other children thought of you.
Father made sure you would never get hurt.
Father ensured that the very day she gave you your new toys.
Father said not to use the toys, only if I was being attacked then I could use them.
Father said not to show the other children your toys.
And you always listened to Father to the best of your abilities.
Well, you tried.
You were walking down the hall, admiring the small trinket Father had found you during one of her expeditions. It was a compass, Father said. You followed the red needle, a huge smile at your face as you watched it shift and move.
You held the compass dear to your chest, using two hands to hold each side. Your eyes were glued to the needle you didn’t even notice the leg that swept your shins, causing your grip on the compass to disappear as your body went sideways, landing on your arms.
Footsteps.
You got up before you could hear another thud, turning around.
“Hey!” You exclaimed as one of the other orphans picked up Father’s gift, admiring it themselves.
“What? We were just interested in what you were holding, Y/N.” One of the other orphans snickered.
“Give it back.” You said, balling your fists. That was Father’s gift to you. Yours. Not theirs.
“Why? You have more gifts than us given by Father. Not having one more isn’t going to kill you, loser.”
Don’t attack. Don’t be quick to anger. Always seek out a compromise before arming yourself. Father’s words rang in your head.
You took a deep breath, blood boiling at the sight of the other orphan haphazardly tossing the compass around.
“What do you want?” You questioned, feet still spread apart.
“Don’t you get it, you stupid idiot? We want what you have.”
“You’ve never wanted anything from me.”
“Because you didn’t have anything we wanted.”
“What do you want now?”
“We want Father.”’
Your knuckles started to turn red as your hands fell to your sides. “What?”
“Don’t act like we don’t see how Father treats you. Always first to get food. Extra dessert. No curfew. Bigger room? Who do you think you are? You’re a nobody! You don’t even have friends! Why does Father treat you better than everyone else?!” The orphan shoved you back on the ground, pressing his foot against your head.
You stared at the orphan. You couldn’t deny that his words did not hold truth to them. Father did ensure all of that. You never questioned why Father would show you more generosity and kindness compared to the other children. Yes, Father treated everyone equally. That was obvious before you went inside the armory that day. Father still treated everyone equally even after that. You just had… perks.
“I didn’t ask to have a bigger room and no curfew.” You retorted, trying to resist.
“But you have it. And we want that too. So go to Father and tell her you want a smaller room, last in line, no dessert, and an earlier curfew.”
“That’s not fair. I’m not going to do that.”
“If you don’t do that, we’ll break the compass. And don't think about lying and saying you did it. We'll know.” The orphan dangled the compass with two fingers, close to the rim.
“Hey!” You gritted your teeth, hand slowly creeping towards the knife strapped onto your belt.
“Three…” The orphan sneered, digging his boot deeper into your hair, pressing your head into the ground.
“Two…” Your hand curled around the helm.
“One…”
Forgive me, Father.
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Repair Kit (Hayden x FemReader)
Summary: You’re the on-set medic for the new Obi-Wan series. A verily simple, straight forward job…except when it comes to a pair of dumbasses. Who have no problem texting you in the middle of the night when they overdo it practicing…or when your new boyfriend accidentally gets out drunk. And tells you some things.
Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s a slight hint of smuttiness. Some drunk dumbasses and a booty grabbing Hayden.
Notes: Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!
A little something for @ittybitty-rt ! It was truly a pleasure to write this! I had a lot of fun with it! Hope you like it! ❤️
- It was 2am when your phone goes off. You only know this because it was glaring at you from the lock screen. Along with an interesting message from a certain ‘hello there’ saying gentleman… ‘Vader Repair Kit’. Bring. Hayden’s trailer. Now.’
- “Oh, what the hell now,” you grumble. Begrudgingly rolling out of your nice, cozy bed; you hurriedly throw on the first thing you can find. Grabbing the requested ‘kit’ on your way out.
- This was your job; well, to a certain degree. You’re the on-set medic for the new Obi-Wan series. Normally, during the DAY, you can be found fixing up beaten knuckles…soothing minor burns…maybe even stitching up a wound or two. Pretty much you just keep everyone happy and healthy.
- Simple enough. Except when it comes to a particular pair of grown ass men who act like stupid teens the moment they’re together. Who see absolutely no problem with texting you in the middle of the night. About the most moronic things…aka usually practicing after hours and completely overdoing it.
- However though, that wasn’t the case tonight…
- Before you can even knock, the door flies open. Revealing ‘Dumbass #1’ in all his grinning glory. “D-Darling, you look stunning.”
- Stunning…they must have fucked up good. “Shove the sweet talk, Ewan. Who did what this time?”
- Rubbing the back of his neck, the ‘jedi master’ laughs nervously. The smell of alcohol VERY noticeable on his breath. “Well, y-you see-”
- “Meee, I did!” A familiar voice calls out drunkenly.
- Shooting Ewan a look, you push your way inside. To find…
- ‘Dumbass #2’ sitting on the bed; big, goofy smile on his face. Arms flung wide open. “There’s my angel!”
- Staring blankly, you let out a heavy sigh. “Seriously? Don’t make me regret agreeing to date you.”
- Not paying any mind to the whines of ‘how mean’…or the ungodly adorable pout…you immediately get to work. Pulling out various rehydration items and whatever can possibly lessen the inevitable hangover from your ‘kit’. “All right, dark lord, you know the drill. Just like when you overheat in the Vader suit. Drink and take what I give you. And you’ll be sort of good as new.”
- Right as you’re about to hand him a bottle of what you both so affectionately call ‘blue milk’ and some aspirin. Those arms you’ve been avoiding wind around your hips and… “Heh-heh, booty.” …unceremoniously pull you down onto their owner’s lap.
- “Hay, what the…stop!” You squeak, face all flushed while trying to wiggle out of his hold.
- “No!” He giggles excitedly, squeezing your plush posterior like crazy. “Booty!”
- You hear the sound of Ewan clearing his throat behind you, a slight smirk in his voice. “You h-have this under control. I’ll l-leave you two love birds b-be.” Followed by the trailer door closing. Bastard…so much for being your only hope.
- Barely a second afterwards, Hayden has his face buried in the side of your neck. Nipping and sucking your sensitive skin. Hands still kneading greedily. “He right, ya know. We that…because I loves you.”
- Did he really just say that? You haven’t…he hasn’t… “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying,” you mutter. Scratching the back of his head, doing your best to ignore the awakening beast pressing into your stomach.
- Pulling away, not before giving your collarbone a gentle bite, Hay looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. Whining a bit while not so subtly grinding. “Maaaybe, but don’t mean it not true. I loves my angel. Wanna shows her.”
- Forcing back a soft moan, it takes everything you have to not cave. Sure, you’d love nothing more than to do so; to just tear it up like nobody’s business. But right now…right now he needed you in a whole different way.
- Despite his protests, you untangle yourself and slide out of his lap. “How about this?” You coo, sitting besides him and wrapping an arm around his waist. “You drink your ‘blue milk’ and get some rest. And…you can show me as much as you want in the morning. Okay?”
- “Fine,” he huffs, resting his head on your shoulder. “You numb me?”
- Although this isn’t exactly how you pictured the two of you saying it, you can’t help but smile. “Yeah,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head. “I love you too.”
- “Good, because I no give up booty,” Hayden mumbles. Giving aforementioned booty one last good pinch before dozing off.
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen smut#anakin skywalker#anakin#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#star wars anakin#sw anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin smut#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#darth vader#darth vader x reader#dart vader fanfiction#darth vader smut
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not to be messy but how do you feel about people stealing other peoples viral posts on tumblr and reposting it on twitter like it’s theirs. (she’s on here by guttergirl-444) & she has stolen many more lol
at first glance it’s like shock and amazement more than anything because i never thought this would happen to me, but when i actually stop to think about it, it actually is very frustrating and invasive. i know it happens all the time and i can’t really stop it, plus my posts have no copyright or anything but it is true, when i make posts that aren’t haha funny laugh a lot play a lot, they kind of are little extensions of my artwork. like drafts and ideas that often get elaborated on if they seem to connect with people.
i don’t really want to dunk on other artists because it feels mean spirited, but i just want to point out this one instance that shows how writing anything on tumblr is “just a tumblr post” and people often don’t consider that there’s a person behind it. it’s almost like a popular tumblr post becomes fair use. This artist here took my words directly from my post (and even used the same iconography of a beach??) and when you click on the link in the description, it takes you to their instagram account with 142k followers. not even a single nod to me, who wrote the actual words. as an extra little punch, they call themself a poet in their bio.
sure my post was a bottom text top text “meme image” but there was a lot behind it—in both thought and time. the exact same ideas and photos made their way into a book i made just a couple months later. i think i sold umm one copy?
all in all, im not complaining about lacking “popularity” because that’s utterly stupid. but there’s something moderately soul-crushing about making a tumblr post and having it ripped to shreds by all walks of life online. It literally feels like i’ve placed something beautiful in the world out of my own kindness, then walked away, and when i come back everyone has defaced and damaged and killed it. it’s kind of invasive but I know it’s the way things go.
i love the anonymity of tumblr but sometimes I wish it we were all a little more open. Maybe people could remember that behind every blog is another person with ideas, cares, opinions, annoyances, and loves. I’m sure this one twitter account isn’t really doing much damage—honestly I haven’t even gone to look at it to see how people are replying—but it’s rough out there on this beautiful social media we call tumblrposts.
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Can we hear about your milgram oc 🥺🥺
( no pressure ofc )
I have 12 Milgram OCs! But now there are only 8 ( or 9 ? ) people who have stories. I'll introduce them to you!!↓
(I use Translate app and my little abilities, hope you can read and understand it.)
In Samleegram, We have 2 prison guards and 10 prisoners
Prison Guards
[000]
Name : Es (エス)
CV : Sakamoto Maaya (坂本 真綾)
Gender : Unknown
Age : 15
Birthday : Unknown
Height : 153 cm.
Bloodtype : Unknown
Image color : #8EC6BB (Monte Carlo)
Es bright and cheerful, They is close to almost every prisoner. They always make free time to talk with prisoners. But no one knew that they was secretly recording prisoners' information all the time.
They patrolled at night every day. Many people think it's because they works hard. But actually they was just trying to find a way out of here.
Es often gets teased by Ar for being short. So they asks Jackalope for a new pair of shoes. That makes them 160 cm tall. which is higher than Ar. LOL
((Es rarely wears a hat because it makes seeing difficult.😢 Es always cooks for everyone to eat, sometimes some prisoners come to help them. (but Ar doesn't help.)))
__________
[000]
Name : Ar (アル)
CV : Uchiyama Yumi (内山 夕実)
Gender : Unknown
Age : 15
Birthday : Unknown
Height : 159 cm.
Bloodtype : Unknown
Image color : #8EB8C6 (Polo Blue)
In fact, Ar was the assistant prison guard. Its main duty is to interrogate prisoners. They was verbally violent during the interrogation. In this prison, there was hardly anyone to like them. (← It should be like that)
Ar is very foul-mouthed and has a temper. (💀) Do you see that whistle? They usually blow it when prisoners don't behave as they please. ( Why does it sound cute..? )
((Ar doesn't often wear hats either. But it's because he's just lazy. Sometimes Ar wears Es’s hat because Ar can't find their own.))
__________
Prisoners
[021]
Name : Kinoshita Haru (木下 晴)
CV : Kitamura Eri (喜多村 英梨)
Gender : Female
Age : 22
Birthday : January 6
Height : 173 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #F59795 (Wewak)
Haru hardly speaks to anyone. She usually communicates by writing on the board. She also isn't good at facial expressions, which makes some people think she's strange.
Haru often smokes with Masato (024) regularly. And She seem to be trying to approach Akihiko (26) for unknown reasons.
She used to like to sing and play music, she used to set up a band with a close friend before. But why did she stop doing it? Hmmm? you'll have to wait until this part of the story is revealed.✌️
((I intend to design Haru to look like a man. Due to her past story But she is a woman. However You can use the anypronoun with her that she/her he/him or they/them. She doesn't seriously about this.))
__________
[022]
Name : Murata Kei (村田 軽 )
CV : Murata Ayumu (村瀬 歩)
Gender : Male
Age : 14
Birthday : August 19
Height : 154 cm.
Bloodtype : AB
Image color : #BCCCD1 (Link Water)
Kei is the youngest prisoner. He has dark circles under his eyes that are clearly visible. It's because he almost didn't sleep. Even though he went to sleep, he had a nightmare anyway, so he thought it was better to take that time to study.
He often said that he was not guilty , Never kill people , Milgram caught him wrong. And he wanted to leave here very much. 'My father will definitely find me.' He always said that.
Kei looks particularly close to Hinata(023), maybe because of his similar age, he often follows her like a chick(?) Everyone in prison always sees them next to each other.
((He used to ask for cosmetics from Es, so Es thought that in fact, he might love beauty?))
__________
[023]
Name : Tsugiyama Hinata (杉山 日向)
CV : Hanazawa Kana (花澤 香菜)
Gender : Female
Age : 15
Birthday : March 23
Height : 148 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #F4CFC5 (Coral Candy)
Hinata is a friendly person and always talks to others. Everyone sees her cheerful and looks polite all the time. But once in a while she accidentally slipped out of a rude word. Make everyone shock…
She bandaged her arms all the time. Ritsu (028) volunteered to change the bandage for her often, but she often refused him and did it on her own. She didn't want anyone to see the that wound.
Hinata didn't have the attitude of wanting to leave milgram at all. Hinata thought that this place was much more comfortable than her house. If not sticking to the vote that she didn't like it.
((Hinata doesn't like the uniform that Milgram provides. Because it makes everyone see the bandage clearly.💢))
__________
[024]
Name : Kimura Masato (木村 正人)
CV : Hirata Hiroki (平田 広明)
Gender : Male
Age : 43
Birthday : February 20
Height : 187 cm.
Bloodtype : O
Image color : #78BC8E (Bay Leaf)
He is the oldest person in milgram. He lived a sluggish life as if he had completely lost faith in this world. Sometimes he acted like a father of children in prison.👴
Masato talks to Ritsu(028) most often. discussing life problems, adult edition (sounds depressing). He often smokes with Haru(021) on a regular basis, even if the other party lets him talk to a single swim.
Masato didn't pay much attention to milgram, But if he could choose, he wanted to get out of here, Because he still didn't complete his duty.
((He thinks it's not bad to have free cigarettes.))
__________
[026]
Name : Matsui Akihiko (松井 昭彦)
CV : Taniyama Kishou (谷山 紀章)
Gender : Male
Age : 18
Birthday : April 1
Height : 169 cm.
Bloodtype : A
Image color : #FFBF65 (Rajah)
I haven't made much of his story yet. But as you can see, He's not very friendly.
Akihiko often quarrels with Ar regularly (He actually quarrels with everyone but.. uh… with Ar the most.)
__________
[028]
Name : Itsuki Ritsu (樹 律)
CV : Furukawa Makoto (古川 慎)
Gender : Male
Age : 35
Birthday : June 30
Height : 182 cm.
Bloodtype : B
Image color : #3359BF (Cerulean Blue)
Please marry m- NO, I mean, Ritsu always takes care of others, maybe because he's a doctor, so he's trusted by everyone.
He is very close to Masato(024), probably because Masato is the male of his age closest to himself.
((Look at his smile ^^ 🥺))
__________
[030]
Name : Higuchi Ryota (樋口 僚太)
CV : Uchida Yuma (内田 雄馬)
Gender : Male
Age : 20
Birthday : October 12
Height : 174 cm.
Bloodtype : O
Image color : #C1D48C (Deco)
Ryota doesn't have any other information yet, I'll update it later!
__________
Thank you for reading to the end!!
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as someone who has self harm scars i was curious. what do you think johnny would think if he saw his s/o (or victim) had some? also i love ur writing so much <3 hope ur staying hydrated and getting enough sleep !!
First tysm for loving my writing!! I have the type of ADHD where I forget to drink anything so unfortunately not but I do get decent sleep ty for asking ❤️ I hope you enjoy the fic and remember, Johnny is not a licensed therapist so please don't follow his suggestions 😂
Scars of the Past
Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x reader
Warnings: self-harm, blood, local insane man is certain he can make a girl feel better via knifeplay, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 1,670
Maybe Johnny was stupid for hitting the same place twice after already having picked up a girl, but he had to see if you were still around. You, the girl who checked everyone into the nightclub. The girl he’d been following home for the last week. When you'd taken his hand to stamp it, he honed in on your wrists right away. Scars, and plenty of them.
You were accustomed to getting looks and were used to it by now, so all you did was smile at him and usher him inside. He left a few hours later with a drunk girl on his arm and that was that, or so you thought.
So when the club closed around twelve, you were surprised to see the same tall, dark, and handsome man from last night push himself off the brick wall and approach you.
"Hello, little miss," he drawled as he stopped in front of you while you put on your jacket.
"Oh, hey," you replied, not fully engaged.
"I'm Johnny. What's your name?" he asked.
You glanced up at him and shared your name as you finished fastening your coat.
"Pretty name for a pretty girl," he remarked.
"Thanks. Listen, I gotta get home now—" you began, but he interrupted by taking your hand, drawing your attention back to him.
"I couldn't help but notice your scars," he said, pushing your sleeve back to inspect the faded white lines. Your gaze shifted to his, noticing a large scar over his eye that you hadn't seen before.
"I doubt you did that to yourself," you responded with a half-smile.
"My ma did it," he said, catching you off guard.
"I'm sorry," you said softly.
He brushed it off. "It’s fine. But I'm curious, why'd you do this to yourself?" he asked, genuine interest in his eyes.
You looked into Johnny's dark gaze, surprised to find understanding rather than judgment. "My childhood wasn't the greatest," you explained with a shrug.
"Don't most people hide their scars?" he inquired.
"I don't care what people think. I'm in a better place now," you replied, trying to reassure both him and yourself.
“Are you?” He asked, running his thumb over your scars. You didn't know that he'd seen you through your bathroom window, curled up on the floor of your shower, sobbing. You didn't know he'd seen why you called out three days ago, because you couldn't bear to drag yourself out of bed.
Feeling uncomfortable, you pulled your wrist away. "Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, attempting to brush past him, but he blocked your path.
You then felt something that made all the color drain from your face. A knife, pressed against your abdomen.
“Nah, I think you'll be coming home with me tonight,” he hissed low in your ear.
–
He drove you to a hotel, and checked into a room, always keeping the knife at the small of your back.
“I'd take you home to mama, but she gets funny,” he said, gesturing to his scar.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked as he opened the hotel room door, pushing you inside before him.
“Tell me your favorite part about cutting,” he demanded, locking the door behind you.
"What?" you asked incredulously.
“You heard me,” he replied, removing his shirt and revealing numerous scars that crisscrossed his pale skin.
"Did you do that to yourself?" you asked, taken aback by the sight.
“I asked you a question first, missy,” he retorted with a cocky grin.
You sighed, sitting down shakily on the bed. “I just like to be reminded that I'm alive, okay? Shit hurts too much,” you mumbled.
“Well, you're certainly alive, darlin’. A whole club of people pretending to be happy, then there's you,” he remarked, stepping closer with a predatory gleam in his eye. “I can see you better ‘n all them. I see through the walls you built. You're not okay, but you could be,” he said, then turned his Bowie knife around, holding the handle towards you.
"What the hell?" you whispered, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Cut me. Tell me if it makes you feel alive the same way it does when you cut yourself,” he instructed, as if it was the most normal request in the world.
You took the knife, raising an eyebrow at him. He didn't move, he just stood and watched you with a gleam in his eye.
You stood, holding the knife so tightly your fingers hurt. You could've slit his throat, or tried to anyway. Why did he kidnap you just to hand you a knife? Did he have a death wish?
Adrenaline made your heart pound in your ears. He wasn't moving… he must be serious. You raised the knife, took a deep breath, then sliced it across his chest.
“Ooh,” he winced, hissing through his teeth, “got me good. Must be all the practice,” he said with a laugh. All you could do was stare as crimson cascaded down his torso.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, the knife still limply held in your hand.
“Same thing as you,” he responded simply, running his hand over his abdomen and bringing his fingers to his lips, staining them red.
“Are you going to kill me?” You asked anxiously.
“Why you askin’ me that, you're the one with the knife!” He laughed.
You looked down at the bloodied knife in your hand and realized something. In this instance, you look guilty. If you were to try anything, he could very easily claim you assaulted him.
“Guess you're in a pickle, lil’ missy. Let me help you outta it.” He stepped forward, leaning toward you. “But before I do, tell me how it felt.”
You took a deep breath, watching as the blood continued to seep from his wound he wasn’t bothering to stifle.
“It felt the same as when I cut myself, I guess,” you admitted. “I felt alive.”
“Knew it.” Johnny grinned. “In that case, I have a proposition for ya.”
He set one bloodied knuckle under your chin, angling your eyes to meet his. “There's someone who's stumbled onto my property, you see. Trespassin’. I could use some help teachin’ them a lesson. Might help you feel the same way you did cutting me.”
“I don't know, I'm not a bad person,” you said, your heart still pounding like mad.
“You aren't, but you felt that thrill, didn't ya? The world ain't black and white sweetheart.” He shrugs, moving to the bathroom and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his abdomen. “Far as I see it, trespassers need to be punished. Come with me. If you do, I'll let you go without a fuss. But I can promise you that you'll be back.”
“And if I don't?” You asked hesitantly.
“Well then, either you escape and I tell the cops you cut me open… or I kill you before you get the chance,” he said matter-of-factly, his demeanor chillingly calm.
You held up the knife, pointing it toward him, a futile attempt to assert some control over the situation.
“If you try it, I know how to survive, darlin’, and it only makes you look more guilty,” he said confidently, approaching you and allowing the knife to dimple his stomach when he reached you.
“Come with me,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours, which was still gripping the knife.
You continued to hold on, but deep down, you knew you stood no chance against this man. So, you let go.
“There ya go,” he said, his face lighting up. “Oh darlin’, we're gonna have so much fun.”
#johnny slaughter#johnny sawyer#johnny slaughter x reader#texas chainsaw massacre#texas chainsaw game#tcm#texas chainsaw massacre game#tcm game#tw self h4rm
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I've seen the same post a hundred times now. Sometimes it's a few days old, sometimes it's from years ago, but it's always the same. Some anti posts about how they don't understand how anyone can like Snape because he was so awful, and then there's a long reply that goes something like, "imagine this happens to you, and then this, and then this" to describe Snape's experience. Sometimes there's some James Potter hate thrown in.
Look. You can go through describing a character's entire experience but you don't really need to. Here's the thing that antis don't understand:
For all her faults (and they're big, bigoted ones) Rowling understood a really integral part of the human experience and conveyed it through Snape. Everyone needs love and to feel accepted. It's that simple. Snape became a Death Eater to seek acceptance (Rowling has confirmed this, though I can't remember the source - whoever wants to add it please do), because it was the only way he could find any.
Snape's understanding of morality, like everyone's, is subjective. Some readers understand this and some don't. When faced against a morality that says there is good and bad in the world, everyone makes choices based on their personal experience. Context is everything. Someone who experiences pain and suffering will not see the person inflicting it on them as moral. That's it. 'How can this person be good when they caused me so much suffering?' = human psychology. Most of the people who think 'I'm a bad person and deserve this' have been gaslit and abused into thinking so, because it's not a natural reaction - it's one that has to often be socialized into someone at a young age, exactly because it's not natural. Everyone is the hero of their own story; no one sees themselves as a villain, because they see the valid aspects of their own perspective.
You can write essays on how vulnerable people needing acceptance is what cults and fascists exploit to recruit vulnerable people, or on how the standard anti's un-nuanced reading of Snape both ignores canon and displays a disturbing lack of empathy or compassion, but at its core it just boils down to context. From Snape's perspective he experienced cruelty, therefore the people inflicting it must be cruel. Again, it's that simple. He was a person, like any other, except he was fictional so he wasn't even real. On the flip side is James Potter, who, for all his faults, didn't get to live long enough to get a chance to change and grow unlike Snape, and I think the Snapedom also needs to acknowledge that.
They're fictional characters representing things an author wants to say, not sports teams, not martyrs, and not all good or all bad emblems that define your identity depending on how you feel about them. It's depressing how much time is wasted arguing with bullies and trolls whether from the Marauders fandom or just random antis. I literally can't find more than three blogs to follow without this argument coming across my feed daily. I know the Snapedom is Not OK™ and that's kind why we're all here, and I know that my take is super unpopular but like Snape, I don't care what others think: this fandom has been having the exact same argument for years and nothing has changed. There's fanart and meta and fic and so much content out there appreciating this character, you're not going to change an anti's mind who's deliberately trolling in the tags, so why are you trying? What are you getting out of it? What does it give you? It's exhausting just scrolling past it.
#The thing about morality is that it's subjective#the religious leader who's a beacon of moral purity to their congregation#is a source of selfishness and pain to someone they abuse in secret#is that abuse victim immoral for rejecting the values the religious leader represents?#the congregation might think so because their definition of morality relies on the religious leader being a moral guide#the victim might not think so though because how can something be righteous if it causes suffering#look this is just an example of how perspectives can vary and I know there are more possible takes on that example#my point is that the idea that there's no clear 'good' and 'evil' there's only power/what you do with it is actually how psychology works#'good' to one person can be pain to another#'scourgify' is an innocuous household spell that cleans stains until it's used to waterboard someone#context matters more than labels like 'light' and 'dark' magic
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