Alastor: My partner need to be regal, powerful, clever, with the passion to take over Hell with me.
Reader: *Trips on the sidewalk and falls over crying because they stepped on a caterpillar*
Alastor: That one. I want that one.
More of the radioapple Human AU, part 1 of likeee 3.5
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
this is canon btw
Post War Levi HC
I think about PostWar Levi and if he ever found his s/o, someone he trusts with his entire being.
I think he would tell them about everything that he went through, without shedding a tear because he never really had the chance to express his grief before, as he dedicated his entire life towards helping humanity, always putting others first. It would take him a good while to realize the depth of his grief and to lower the walls he had built around himself, before the dam of emotions comes crashing down.
I think he would then lay down with his s/o with his head tucked in the crook of their neck, and his s/o would eventually feel their shirt slightly dampen, a sign of Levi's silent tears. And they would hold him tight and stroke his hair without saying a word; a silent acknowledgement.
Because I think no amount of words would ever suffice for the pain and hell he's been through.
green
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Summary: During a movie night, Eddie’s father makes a surprise visit. Eddie defends you, past trauma is brought up, and you remind Eddie that he is nothing like him.
Warning: Swearing, fighting, mentions of previous abuse, blood, angst
A/N: I most certainly used lyrics from Family Line by Conan Gray in this.
It was a Friday night; you and Eddie were having your weekly movie date at his trailer. Your head resting on Eddie’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The movie was halfway through when you heard knocking at the door, startling the both of you. Eddie got up from the couch, grumbling about who could possibly be coming at this time of night.
Eddie opened the door but not even a second later tried to close it again. You didn’t get a chance to see who it was before you saw a boot stop the door from closing and a man pushing his way in. The older man had short, dark, curly hair and brown eyes. There was no mistaking who it could have been.
“What? You aren’t gonna greet your old man, son?” Eddie’s father asked. Your heart rate picked up. Eddie never talked much about him. All you knew was that he was a criminal and Eddie despised the man.
Keep reading
You know what would have been a great ending for Finnick?
The mutts viciously attack him in the sewers. It looks like he's not gonna make it, but Katniss and Peeta refuse to leave him behind.
He's done so much to save them and look out for them and they know what happens to people who are left behind. But GALE (FUCKING GALE) goes all soldier and shuts the door on him, claiming he's too far gone.
Then, either during the bombing or slightly before they're arguing with Gale. Peeta looks like himself again, kind and determined to save his friends. It's familiar to Katniss. As they argue, they see a man hole cover open and who emerges bloody and battered? Finnick.
OR they find him at Snows mansion because the Mutts didn't kill him. They dragged him back all the way through the sewers to return Snows Toy.
Finnick is alive but BADLY scarred. On his chest, arms, face. Maybe even missing a finger or two. One of his eyes has gone a little cloudy and a streak of his hair haa turned a platnium white from the fear and trauma.
Finally, they're all safe. Haymitch makes a joke about "what's it like not being pretty anymore? No better than the rest of us."
Katniss later apologisea for this joke but Finnick tells her he's right.
"My body has never been my own. The capital had always had final say. They took away every scar and blemish. All the nicks I'd ever gotten from learning how to make hooks. Every callous in my hands, every scratch they left down my back.
I know it's bad, people can't stop staring at me, but hey, I'm used to that, right?... I was afraid of what Annie might think, but I know she still loves me. And if looking like this means that she's the only person who will ever want to touch me again, then it's a blessing.
We're free, Katniss."
I think Finnick having his "beauty taken away" by scars and wounds is something he would find so comforting. His beauty had been a curse, but now he has agency again.
Heyy x3 I dont really know if you are comfortable with this so its ok if you dont want to write anything like this but anyway. I suffer from tourettes and would like to See an eddie x reader with tourettes fic. Like they are New at hawkins and of course the freak because of the tics (like head jerking etc) but eddie is instantly in love or something like that? Thank you So much :) <3
warnings: reader has a condition that makes them tic, reader is bullied, reader goes through anxiety during school, self-degrading thoughts
hi love, thank you for being my first request ever!!! i personally don’t have tourettes, and i don’t want to portray it in the wrong way, so i’m going to write this but generalize the reader with having any tic condition!! i only get minor anxiety-induced tics so if anything is wrong, please feel free to correct me!! again, i mean no harm or offense with this fic if anything comes off wrong!! hope this is close to what you were looking for <333
Hawkins High. A new school. A fresh start.
Or so you thought.
You escaped your previous school having had a tight-knit friend circle that always made you feel safe. Arriving to this new territory, you were completely alone. Vulnerable. The thought of having nobody sent a shiver down your spine.
Your anxiety spiked the second you took your first step into the threshold of the building. I’ve entered the gates of Hell, you thought to yourself. And with every glance around the packed hallways you proved that thought to be true. Demons scurried around the corridor in the shape of girls in bright green and white cheerleading outfits. Fire erupted with every glare from cliques of gossiping students loitering about the lockers. A crumpled up slip of paper with your locker number and combination was held in your fist, fingers not daring to move an inch. You managed to mask your movements until you reached your locker.
You tried to enter the combination you had on your sheet of paper, with no luck.
You try again. God this is embarrassing. You’re a senior in high school and you can’t even unlock your locker?
Another attempt. Fuck, are there people staring at me?
You try again, and fail.
You can’t mask any longer, the pressure releases and you find your head jerking wildly towards your locker. A small sense of relief washes over you, followed by instant dread.
Well now they’re definitely staring. You manage to unlock your locker quickly.
You cant even muster a glance around the hall as you hurriedly gather your possessions and shut your locker, rushing to your first class.
Only six more hours and forty-five minutes. Hooray.
After a grueling three hours, you find yourself in the cafeteria with a tray in hand. Your classes were, for the most part, successful. You stayed quiet and kept to yourself for the day. Your favorite period of the day was band, having made a couple friends. Robin Buckley introduced herself, and showed you to the cafeteria. Band was enjoyable, the director is incredibly entertaining as a teacher, and the students are all a bit outcast so it isn’t hard to fit in. Your tics were minimal for that period, but the period before had been Calc I. And oh, how you hated math. You jerked your head a number of times, usually followed by a sound. A few boys seemed to snicker at you, but you tried to shrug it off.
Lunch can’t be that hard, right?
Wrong.
A few of the boys from Calc, all of whom were wearing varsity sports jackets, approached you in the lunch line.
“Hey look, it’s the weirdo who wouldn’t shut up in math!”
Another chimed in. “Are you really gonna be so annoying all year? You were so distracting! Who even are you, anyways?”
The bullying was enough to set your ticks off, your head jerking and hands repeatedly balling into fists. The boys cackle and call you all sorts of names. It feels endless, until you feel a strong hand around your waist.
“Just go with it,” a voice whispers quietly in your ear.
The voice gets louder. “Fellas, I’m gonna need you to step away at once.”
Through your tics, you manage to look up and see a head of long brown hair and a pair of beautiful chocolate eyes.
“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, freak?” The boy standing in the middle says smugly.
A wild smile appears on your saviors face. “It would be such a shame if your mom found out about aaaall that bud you bought for last Friday’s party, hm? Oh no, Jason, I don’t think that Jenny would like that one little bit.”
A string of curses and complaining accompanies Jason and his gang’s departure. By the time they leave you, your tics have subsided and are a lot less bad than before.
You look back to the mystery man. “Well, uh, thank you for that.”
He flashes you a wide grin. “Anytime, doll! The name’s Eddie Munson. Are you new to Hawkins?”
“Yeah actually, it’s my first day here.”
“Well, would you allow a fellow ‘freak’ to show you around?”
Your lips curve into a smile and you nod. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m sure you have much better things to do.”
He looks around dramatically, arching an eyebrow and pointing to his chest. “Little ‘ol me? Have something better to do than talk to a cute new kid? Never!”
You giggle at his actions, head jerking forward. You blush a bit. Shit. “Oh, I’m so sorry, that was a tic! God, I’m so sorry I can just find someone else to sit with-”
His arm snakes its way over your shoulders. “What? No! I honestly barely even noticed it. I don’t mind in the slightest, dude!” His eyes meet yours. “It makes you even more special than those brain-dead basketball idiots. I like it, it’s different! End of story.”
And that was it. Eddie never once judged you for a tic, and rarely brought them up unless you wanted to. He giggled with you at new vocal tics that surfaced and were silly, and never batted an eye if you were ticking in public.
Little did you know, but you had the metalhead’s attention the second you walked up to your locker across from his. He was enamored by the way you dressed, and your (in his words) beautiful face. When he saw you tic, it was just another thing added to his ever growing list of reasons he wanted to be yours. He knew from the moment he saw you that you were the one for him.
And (spoiler alert) you were definitely his.
© ragnarokk 2022 / don’t copy, translate, or post my work anywhere
Idk I made this at 4AM
⬆️My Alastor headcanon
masterlist Requests open20 // CURRENTLY EDITING MY PAGE DW IT IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION
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