#' hi this is important to you and i'm sure as i die burning i can taste a little bit '

[kenzdolls]

𝐀 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎’𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

𖤐 synopsis: with the feeling of being disregarded from izuku, you try to end the relationship; but, izuku unexpectedly reels you back in with a surprisingly, odd way of an apology.

𖤐 trigger warnings: angst/fluff at the end

𖤐 pairing: izuku midoriya x gender neutral! reader

the afternoon sun cast long shadows across u.a. high school's campus as you made your way toward heights alliance, the dormitory where class 1-a resided. your footsteps were heavy, matching the weight in your chest.

today marked exactly two months since you and izuku midoriya had started dating, but instead of celebrating, you were dreading the conversation you needed to have.

the world outside the school walls had grown increasingly dangerous. villains were organizing, heroes were falling, and somehow in the middle of it all was your boyfriend—a sixteen-year-old with the weight of an impossible legacy on his shoulders and determination burning in his eyes that sometimes scared you.

you found him in the common room, notebook open on his lap, muttering analysis to himself as he reviewed footage of recent hero battles. his green hair was messier than usual, and dark circles shadowed his eyes. he hadn't noticed you yet.

"izuku," you called softly.

his head snapped up, and immediately his tired face transformed with a smile that made your heart ache. "hey! i didn't hear you come in." he closed his notebook and patted the spot beside him on the couch. "i was just studying some new techniques that could help with controlling—"

"can we talk?" you interrupted, remaining standing. "somewhere private?"

his smile faltered, concern immediately replacing his enthusiasm. "sure. my room?"

the walk up to the fourth floor was quiet, tension building with each step. izuku's room was exactly as it always was—all might memorabilia covering nearly every surface, analysis notebooks stacked on his desk, workout equipment in the corner. it should have felt comfortable by now, but today it just reminded you of how single-minded his focus could be.

"is everything okay?" he asked as he closed the door behind you.

you took a deep breath. "not really. i'm worried about you, izuku."

he blinked, confusion written across his freckled face. "worried? about me? why?"

"why?" you couldn't help the slight edge that crept into your voice. "have you looked in a mirror lately? you're exhausted. you're pushing yourself way too hard with this new blackwhip training. aizawa-sensei said you were in recovery girl's office twice this week."

izuku's shoulders tensed slightly. "that's normal for training. i have to master these quirks if i'm going to—"

"if you're going to what? save everyone? become the number one hero? die trying?" the words came out harsher than you intended, but weeks of bottled concern were finally spilling over.

his eyes widened. "that's not fair. you know how important this is."

"of course i know," you said, trying to keep your voice level. "the whole world knows how important it is. but i'm not dating the future symbol of peace or one for all or whatever. i'm dating you, izuku. the boy who might not live to graduation at this rate."

a flash of hurt crossed his face. "i'm being careful."

"no, you're not!" you gestured to the bandages peeking out from beneath his school uniform sleeve. "this isn't normal, izuku. most teenagers worry about exams and crushes, not villains targeting them specifically."

"i never said it would be normal," he countered, his voice quiet but firm. "when you said you wanted to be with me, i thought you understood what that meant."

the implication stung. "so i'm just supposed to watch you destroy yourself? smile and nod while you come back with new scars every week?"

"i'm getting stronger!" his voice rose slightly, a rare show of frustration. "every training session, every new technique—it's all to make sure i can protect everyone. to make sure i can protect you."

"i never asked you to protect me," you said. "i asked you to be with me. there's a difference."

the argument built like a gathering storm, months of unspoken fears and frustrations finally finding voice. the common room incident with bakugo where izuku had jumped in front of you unnecessarily. the hospital visit after his internship that he'd downplayed. the nightmares he wouldn't talk about that left him shaking and distant.

"you don't understand what's coming," izuku said, running a hand through his hair. "the league is getting stronger. all for one is—"

"stop." you held up your hand. "i'm not asking for hero intel, izuku. i'm asking for my boyfriend to care about his own safety as much as he cares about everyone else's." "i do care!"

"then why won't you ever slow down? why won't you let anyone help you? even all might is worried, i can see it when he watches you train."

his face flushed with emotion. "because there isn't time! because if i fail, people die! because all might chose me, and i can't let him down!"

the words hung in the air between you, heavy and revealing. this wasn't just about heroics or training—this was about a boy desperate to prove himself worthy of an impossible mantle.

you sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. "i can't compete with that, can i? with all might, with one for all, with your destiny or whatever you want to call it." "it's not a competition," he said softly. "it feels like one. and i'm losing." you reached for your bag. "maybe we rushed into this. maybe dating the successor to all might isn't something i'm cut out for."

panic flashed across izuku's face. "wait, what are you saying?" "i'm saying i need space to think, izuku. this isn't what i thought it would be." you turned toward the door, willing yourself not to cry. "i care about you too much to watch you self-destruct."

"please don't go," he whispered, voice cracking slightly. "not like this." but you were already reaching for the doorknob, determined to leave before the tears threatening to spill could fall. you needed time to sort through your feelings, to decide if loving a boy with the weight of the world on his shoulders was something you could actually handle.

"i'm sorry," you said quietly. what happened next occurred so quickly you barely had time to register it. there was a crackling sound, a flash of dark energy in your peripheral vision, and suddenly you felt something wrap firmly around your waist—not painfully, but with unmistakable strength. blackwhip.

the dark tendrils of izuku's newer quirk had extended from his hand, gently but firmly holding you in place. before you could protest, he had pulled you back toward him, spinning you around to face him. his eyes were wide with surprise at his own actions, a look that suggested he'd acted purely on instinct.

and then, in a move that shocked you both, he leaned forward and pressed his lips firmly against your cheek—a desperate, impulsive gesture that silenced whatever words had been forming on your lips.

for a moment, neither of you moved. the blackwhip dissipated, but izuku didn't step away, his face inches from yours, cheeks burning crimson.

"i—i'm sorry," he stammered, mortification dawning as he realized what he'd done. "i didn't mean to use my quirk on you. that was completely inappropriate and—"

"izuku," you interrupted his spiraling apology. "you used blackwhip on me." he winced. "i know. i'm really sorry. i panicked and—"

"no," you said, something warm unfurling in your chest despite everything. "you controlled it perfectly. no damage. no pain."

his rambling stopped as he processed your words. "oh. yeah, i guess i did." a small, tentative smile crossed your face. "that's the first time you've used it without hurting yourself or breaking something. and you did it…for me." the realization seemed to dawn on him too, his eyes widening slightly. "i wasn't even thinking about control. i just didn't want you to leave."

you reached up, touching your cheek where his kiss still lingered. "and the, um…?"

his blush deepened impossibly. "that was impulse. total impulse. i'm sorry if it was unwelcome or—"

"it wasn't unwelcome," you said softly. the tension between you shifted, the anger from moments before not gone but transformed into something different, something more vulnerable. "i'm scared, izuku," you admitted, finally voicing the fear that had been driving your anger. "not of villains or fighting or any of that. i'm scared of losing you."

his expression softened, understanding replacing defensiveness. "i'm scared too," he confessed. "all the time. but that's why i have to keep pushing, keep getting stronger."

"but at what cost?" you reached for his hand, turning it over to reveal the scars that mapped his sacrifices. "these aren't just training injuries. these are pieces of yourself you're giving away." izuku looked down at his scarred hand in yours. "i know it seems that way. but every scar is a lesson learned. a mistake i won't make again."

"and what about us? am i just another lesson waiting to happen?"

he shook his head firmly. "no. never." he took a deep breath. "look, i can't promise i'll stop training hard. i can't promise i won't put myself in danger when lives are at stake. but i can promise that you're not competing with anything or anyone. you're…" he searched for words, "you're the reason i come back, not just the reason i fight." "that sounds nice, but what does it actually mean?"

"it means i'll try harder to find balance. to take breaks. to let you in when things get overwhelming instead of shouldering everything alone." he squeezed your hand gently. "and maybe…maybe you could help me remember that saving the world includes saving enough of myself for the things that matter after the fighting's done."

you studied his face—earnest, determined, those green eyes that had always seen more in you than you sometimes saw in yourself. "that's a lot of maybes."

"i know. but i'm willing to try if you are." he hesitated, then added quietly, "i don't want our first argument to be our last conversation."

despite everything, you felt a smile tugging at your lips. "you know, most couples' first fights are about something normal. like where to eat dinner or forgetting an anniversary."

he laughed softly, the sound a welcome break in the tension. "when have either of us ever been normal?"

"fair point." you sighed, some of the anger and frustration finally draining away. "for the record, using your quirk to stop someone from walking away is definitely crossing a line." he winced. "i know. it won't happen again."

"good." you stepped closer, poking his chest lightly. "because next time i might actually be mad enough that you'd end up in recovery girl's office for an entirely different reason."

his eyes widened slightly before he caught the teasing in your tone, a smile spreading across his face. "so…there will be a next time? for us, i mean?"

instead of answering immediately, you reached up and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, mirroring his impulsive gesture from before. "yes, you heroic idiot. but we have a lot to figure out." relief washed over his features. "we will. i promise." he hesitated, then added, "um, can i…i mean, would it be okay if i…"

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress your smile. "yes, deku, you can kiss me properly now."

his face lit up with the same determined joy you'd seen when he mastered a new technique, and as he leaned in, his lips finding yours in a gentle, tentative kiss, you understood something important: loving izuku midoriya would never be easy. there would always be dangers and fears and arguments about his reckless heroism.

but maybe, just maybe, it would be worth it.

outside the window, clouds shifted, allowing late afternoon sunlight to stream into the room, illuminating the space between two teenagers figuring out how to balance first love against the weight of a world that demanded heroes.

"for what it's worth," izuku whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, "controlling blackwhip was a lot easier when i was thinking about holding onto you instead of fighting."

you smiled, storing that confession away like a precious secret. "then maybe we've both learned something important today."

as the sun continued its descent outside, casting long shadows across u.a.'s campus, you and izuku sat on the edge of his bed, hands intertwined, talking about boundaries and fears and hopes—the kind of conversation that transforms a crush into something deeper, something worth fighting for.

your first argument hadn't ended your relationship. instead, it had given it roots, something solid to grow from. and in a world increasingly filled with uncertainty and danger, that was its own kind of heroism.

taglist: — open! [dm me if you’re interested]

mutuals: @https-bakugo @n3r0-5352 @kitkat13001 @haikyuubby @https-bakugo

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 8

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Author's note: Sorry it took so long. I rewrote this whole chapter because I was just not happy with it. Though I am glad I took the time because this chapter feels more critical than what I would have released. Plus college and work have been a hot mess, so updates might be slower but they should be same quality.

You sat at the breakfast table by yourself. Last night you could barely sleep after burning the blood cover clothes. In the end you had maybe one or two hours of sleep. Giving up at 6:30am you went down early for breakfast.

There was a yawn from the hallway shortly before Barbara rolled into the dining room. She stopped at the entrance to the room, blinking at you. "Oh morning. You're up early."

"So are you. Or do you count this as late?" You leaned back in your chair. One of the books you had gotten with Duke in your hands. There was a decent calm but you still didn't like the quiet.

Barbara rolled closer to you. She stopped when she was sitting next you. Placing her hands on the table, she took a deep breath. You paused your reading to look her. She had a look on her face that told you she was about to ask questions. You shifted yourself away from her slightly, "Don’t. Please just don't."

"I'm trying to find who hurt you (Name). I just... I need a little more information to work with." Barbara leaned forward bracing her arms on the table. "I know you got upset with Dick for asking..."

You scoffed closing your book, "Babs. Please just drop it. I guarantee you that you're not going to like or find anything I tell you useful."

"I want to help you get the justice you deserve." Barbara reached a hand out to you. An olive branch. You almost reached back, almost told her everything but stopped yourself.

The devastation you felt at learning everything was a lie. That the person you trusted not only failed you but almost certainly betrayed you. It was destroying some integral in you. Could you do that to someone? Sure you had committed murder but Davis had deserved for taking part in your suffering. Plus you let him die with his world view intact. But Barbara?

"Would still wish to get me justice if you learn that someone important was involved?" This was your test for her. If she didn't hesitate or ask questions, than you'd tell her. If she showed you she was sure she wanted to go down that road than you'd tell her.

Barbara blinked at question. Eyebrows throughing, she opened her mouth than closed it. You deflated when she asked the last thing you wanted to hear, "What do you mean?"

"Nevermind..." You grabbed your book. It was funny to you in a way that the book you were reading was about a girl discovering her world was lie while you lived through it.

Barbara grabbed your hand. There was desperation in her tone, "(Name), please tell me. I want to help you in anyway I can."

"I don't know their names, just faces." You pulled your hand from hers. This was not going to end well. It was only necessary to punish the guilty, not the innocent. Not Barbara, especially if she was telling the truth.

But what if this was a lie? Your chest tied itself up into knots. Was this another misstep that would tip Bruce off to you knowing he was involved. If Barbara told him, or worse was involved in what happened. Shit, what were you going to do?

She grabbed your hand again refusing to let go, "I don't believe you. (Name) we're here for you, I know we let you down in the past but are we here and trying to do better. Please let us in, tell us what happened. Tell me who hurt you."

A tear slid down your face. Pure fear gripped your chest. This was a test not for her but for you. Did he know about Davis? Had killing the accountant been a mistake? You took a few deep breaths, "Barbara, please just let it go. It's not worth investigating."

"It is. You're worth investigating for."

"No, I'm not." You pulled your wrist from hers. The hollow feeling in your chest was coming back. You needed to get out of the manor, at least for a little bit. It wasn’t safe here. Turning you ran from the room.

You weren't a 100% sure where you go so long as it wasn’t there.

Tim stared at the tablet in his hands, still attempting to process the information from the Davis scene. It was a messy scene. The killer had seemingly playing the blood yet had left no finger print. Even the message on the wall didn't help identify the killer, they had it written with Davis's severed thumb. A truly demented move or a forensic counter measure. Sighing he lowered the tablet back down onto his dresser.

After adjusting his tie, Tim exited his room. Walking towards the dining room he was prepared for another sit down with (Name). What he wasn't prepared for was said girl running into him at full speed. Her hands were pressing into her chest and her breathing was frantic. Tim reached out grabbing her to keep her from tumbling to the floor.

She started to kick and claw at him. Tim held her at arm's length before pulling her in as close as he could. She was clearly have a panic attack of some kind. He focused most of the pressure of the hug on her upper chest where her hands had been digging into. She thrashed around for a bit before going limp in his arms. Tim looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in years.

She was slightly shorter than Damian. Yet she seem so much older than she was. No longer was the three year old girl that had stolen his mask. The confused and upset little girl was gone replaced with a haunted ten year old. Tim picked her up.

She was still limp and nonresponsive when Tim brought her to the living room. Setting her on the couch, he grabbed a weight blanket they had for Jason. Tim had always found her the hardest to communicate with. Out of all his siblings she was the one he knew the least about. Attempting to help her now just made that clear. It was concerning.

He was supposed to know almost everything about everyone. The genius prodigy who could tell you anything. Expect for where (Name) was concerned apparently. She really was one mystery after another. But Tim was good at solving mysteries.

"Hey, focus on my voice okay." He got her to look at him. Her stare was vacant and floated everywhere but his face. "Can you tell me five things you see around you?"

"There's..." She blinked, eyes searching the room. "Two cameras in this room, the model suggest that they have audio."

Tim blinked. She was right but those cameras were hidden. One in the bookcase by the TV and the other in the camera rod pointing towards the hallway. Her shaking didn't stop as hers eye moved between the cameras and door. "No hiding spots."

Tim stood up. First he moved the book camera so it was facing the opposite direction. She blinked mildly confused, Tim took that as a good sign. Than he turned the curtain rod so the camera was pointed to the ceiling. (Name) tilted her head to the side. Tim walk back to crouch infront her, "What are five things you can see?"

They ran through the grounding technique. At the end Tim had chosen to sit next to her. It was peacefully quiet say for the occasionally buzz of Tim's phone. He checked it to see some text messages from Barbara, Bruce, and Damian. Tim shook his head turning his buzzer off. (Name) was still shaking. Tim bit his lip, while watching, "Do you want talk about it?"

"No." She shrugged the weighted blanket off her body.

Tim nodded, "Okay. Bruce wants us to come to breakfast."

"Bruce is on business trip until Tuesday." She gave him a weird look.

Tim shook his head, "He came back early after Alfred called about you arriving suddenly. He wants to check that you're okay."

"I don't want to see him." (Name) turned away from him.

Tim blinked slowly. He remembered from before she disappeared that she had always want to see Bruce. On more occasions than he could count she had asked him give the man invites to open houses, art displays, science fairs, and school plays. She had always wanted her dad to be there. For that to have changed, something truly bad must of happened.

Maybe she didn't feel like she deserved to be near Bruce. Tim knew he struggled with that after Junior. It took time to mend his relationship with Bruce. Maybe that's what she needed, time. Tim could give her some time, "That’s okay, but we probably should still get something to eat."

"Right." She nodded at Tim hollowly. She bit her lip slightly, "did Jason come back to the manor last night?"

"No, not yet but I can message him and tell him you're asking about him." Tim pulled his phone out, ready to send the message.

"No, it's fine...I have to go the library today." She started to mess with her fingers looking towards the window. Tim patted her on the shoulder.

"I'll grab something from the kitchen and give you a ride to the library. Any requests?"

"Do we still have GoGurt?"

Jason shoved another piece of burned debris out of his way. Just as suspected the address the guards had given them was also torched. There were signs that the people involved had taken the lighter equipment. Sparking cords hung from the ceiling with old broken cameras. A few still had scalpels sticking out of them.

"Dude what are we doing here?" Roy Harper asked from behind Jason. After storming out of the manor, Jason made a few calls. The Outlaws now walked behind him in the destroyed building. Bizarro, Artemis, Kori, and Roy had all answered his call to track some people down for 'personal reasons'.

"Remember when I told I have a little sister." Jason said while kicking open a door. It opened to what the sources had called the Main Hall. There was rubble blocking the path to the rooms in the hallway. Evidence pointed towards them detonating a small bomb in the hall way. Her cell was located on the left hand side, the door hanging open. There were four other doors down the hallway. Jason only knew what one of them was, which was a locker room across from her cell.

"Me no remember" Bizarro called from behind him. There were sounds of confirmation from the others. It might have been words, Jason honestly didn't care.

"Turns out she wasn't at that boarding school in Shanghai like I had thought she was." He hated having to admit that but these guys would get it. He hoped. They knew how he almost visited her everytime they were China. Now he wished he hadn't stopped himself, hadn't let her go.

"Wait, wha... Oh shit.", Roy put the pieces together quickly. He began to look around the charred remains of the facility with horror. Out of all his friends, Jason figure would understand the most. "She was here wasn't she and not for good reasons."

Jason nodded to Roy assessment, "We think they were preforming experiments to try and create Meta Humans."

"Oh, The poor thing. What do you need us to do?" Kori started to move debris out of the way. Artemis began helping in moving rubble. They made a clearing to the rest of the doors.

Jason sighed shoving open the door to the locker room. All of the lockers were tumbled over. Most of them looked empty but Jason still pointed towards the room, "We're looking for anything that could be a clue as to who these bastards are."

"Misunderstood." Bizarro said with a nod. With that he headed into the locker room. Set the lockers upright, he checked inside for anything useful. Jason pointedly ignore the room Kori entered. He didn't want to see where they kept her.

"Hold up, I need a little more information than that Jace." Artemis grabbed Jason's arm. He grunted gesturing for Artemis to continue, "Were they successful in making a meta human?"

"Yes, she developed a regeneration ability." Jason started towards another room in the hallway. The layout matched what the two guards had told them. Even if the two didn't know what happened in the last three rooms they knew something important in happened in them. They had taken Jason's sister into two of them. The first door not far from her cell and the last door at the end of the hall. The other door next to locker room only the scientists had entered.

"How did she get out of here?" Roy followed close behind. It was a valid question to ask given the security this place had. Jason had counted 25 cameras and they had to get through three security doors to get here.

Jason shook his head, "She stole a bunch of scalpels, gouged a guy's eye out and stole his keys. Right before she killed a completely different guy while running like hell."

"Fuck, she is your sister." Roy breathed. Jason reached over and smacked him across the back of the head. Roy grabbed where he was hit, "Oww dude. What the fuck that was a compliment. You got a badass sis."

"She's the innocent one in this family." Jason sighed as he opened the door to the room they most often brought her to. It looked like a sterile operation room with a water pool in the left corner. There was a musty scent in the room from the still water. Various tools were throw about from knives, to whips, to guns. "She's not supposed to be fighting or going through stuff like this."

"Have there been anytime attempts to recapture her? Traffickers hardly like to let their 'product' go." Artemis words were phrased carefully. Jason blinked before moving towards the next room urgently.

Green was blurring his vision again. This wasn't good, "No. And it's been six days since she escaped."

"They don't wait that long, even for the 'problematic' ones. Something ain't adding up here." Roy joined Jason in the next room.

The room next to the locker room was the most torched. Scorched remains of papers covered the floor with a flipped over filing cabinet. There was also some sparking medical equipment and a computer. The two walked further in. Roy picked up a piece of half burned papers. He blinked as he read it before reading it again out loud, "Subject Origin's recovery rate appears to be two hours for a bullet chest wound after the removal of all shrapnel. All vital organs show signs of being fully healed and operational. Despite lossing brain activity for an hour and fourty five minutes, Subject Origin shows no signs of inversible damage. This is a good sign for Project Raphael. What is Project Raphael?"

"I don't know." Jason picked up another piece of charged paper. Roy moved closer to see the paper. "The operational for Project Raphael was a success, despite Doctor H and Doctor Q's walking out. Subject Origin is showing signs of recovery. New Subjects Alpha through Hotel are being prepared for transplant. Monitoring period of six months set to begin in secondary locations."

"That might explain why they haven't come for her." Roy pulled back rubbing the back of his neck.

Jason gave him a look, "Huh?"

"Yeah, thinking about like these guys. If whatever they're doing has already moved on to different subjects than having the Origin isn't necessary until you need more subjects. So why not just let her go until they know whether the first 'batch' is successful?" Roy shrugged hapzardly.

"Cause that would a massive security threat." Jason gestured to them simply being in the room. "She's already tipped off every vigilante in the area."

"That’s probably why they trashed the place." Roy kicked some of the paper causing it fly up. "There's probably not much to find here."

Jason growled. Roy had a point, they could nothing if they didn't know what they were even looking for. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the paper. "Just grab what you can. We might be able to find something important."

Roy sighed but began to pick up other pieces of paper that seem legible. Jason quickly sent the picture to Tim with a brief note to be ready. Roy held up a paper with only Subject Origin written on it, "Hey all of these refer to them doing some fuck up shit to Subject Origin."

"Just focus on grabbing the things, we'll worry about what they say later. I'll focus on recovering the computers hard drive." Jason was focused on taking deep breaths. If those paper were truly talking about (Name) that meant she had endured worst things than they were originally think. Barely injured his ass, they were shooting her just see how she would recover. Lossing brain activity meant she was medically dead for a whole hour. Green was starting to over take his vision. Doctors H and Q had some explaining to do when he found them.

The computer wouldn't turn on. Jason decided to just take the hard drive. It would be easier to recover information at the batcave anyways. Even if that meant go back to the manor. All he needed was a name or a picture. Something to point him in the right direction.

"Hey Jace, I think we got something." Artemis was calling from the hallway. He grabbed the hard drive before going to check out what they were talking about. Artemis held up a burned student ID for Gotham U's Medical school. "Bizarro found this in a locker. Can't read the Name or see the picture but we got the last 3 digits of a student number."

"Good, it will help us narrow the list down." Jason nodded looking around the place. Roy had been right. There really wasn't much to see that wasn't destroyed. Jason was willing to bet they wouldn't find any real names on the computers hard drive. That was assuming it wasn't wipe.

"I have found this in the sleeping quarters." Kori came out of the room holding a scalpel with dried blood and some decaying matter. Jason half laughed, she actually did gouge out a man's eye to escape. He wasn't sure if he was impressed or horrified. On one hand his sister could defend herself. On the other hand she should never had to do that in first place. Whatever Project Raphael was it had pushed her to a limit Jason never wanted her near again.

Jason got yanked out of his thoughts by his phone buzzing. Unlocking it he saw a text from Tim. "Drop off everything you got from that place at the Batcave. Also be at the library at 2pm, (Name) will be wrapping up there at that time. Pick her up."

Jason looked at the time 11am, they had three hours. "Let’s move."

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Taglist:

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Sorry if missed anyone or misspelled your tag. Just DM and I will get it sorted out.

[yandere-wishes]

｡ ₊°༺ Pink Pony Club ༻°₊ ｡

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆Yandere! Dr Phosphorus x Reader ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

⋆.𝄞𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓟𝓸𝓷𝔂 𝓒𝓵𝓾𝓫 𝓑𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓡𝓸𝓪𝓷𝄞˚.⋆

✮★✮ Oh Mama, I'm just having fun, on the stage in my heels it's where I belong, down at the Pink Pony Club, I'm gonna keep on dancing at the Pink Pony Club. ✮★✮

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He lets the music roll over him, allowing the drums to melt over his flames and bleed into the marrow of his black bones. When you dance, you have to focus on the turn out of each step, on the wave of your arms, when to stiffen when to loosen. It makes it all so easy to forget the pain of being constantly on fire. To forget the melancholy that festers inside you. When the adrenaline is this high, you can only make out the strobing neon lights and the dazed amusement of the crowd.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ It's hard to hate the music and the lights, to shy away from a crowd so easily fascinated by the gleeful macabre. It's really the most sanity-inducing thing you can cling to when your body has turned into the thing you once loved. When you've become your research after watching your old self die in a furnace at the hands of those who once wielded all the power in the world. Funny how we make our own monsters, funny how the thing that kills us, is nothing more than the very man we once tried to kill, now engulfed by his own invention. Phosphorus spins, left leg, right leg, jump, and twirl.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The dancing, the music, the clapping, the lights, it's all so perfect for melting away the terrible things that slither inside him, to burn away all those good memories until the kill and the luxury are all the remains. It's getting just too easy to forget his son's face, to forget the smile his wife gave him on their wedding day.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's a moment between moments when the world seems to stop. It's only then that he notices you, or rather notices what you're wearing. It's the dress he thinks, pink like the mushroom clouds he'd once adored, like the sunset framing devastation. Or maybe it's the way you have your hair so cruelly tied. Tight circle above your head like an atom waiting to explode. In a flash it's over, someone is handing him a drink. Another sitting on his lap. And he's thrust harshly back into reality, back to a world of trying to forget.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus is and always will be a man of logic. A man of science. He lets his fingers glide over the stack of pristine hundred-dollar bills. To think he'd spent his whole life begging for a quarter of all of this. Begging for scraps of funding to save the lives of thousands. It had all been so important once. Still, he can't help but let his mind wonder, what could he build with all of this? What could he solve, discover, create? He tells his men to lock it up in the safe, he's not ready to go back to all of that just yet.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The next time Phosphorus sees you, he's half sunken into the plush couch of the VIP lounge. It's been a long day, a long tough day. Everything had gone wrong and all so right in the same breath. This time your dress is the shade of clouds marred by the blood of a dying sun. He should know this shade from the history books he'd used to read, the shade of skylines behind ancient temples. Back then he'd been trying to understand. Understand what he's not quite sure, he'd been so desperate to pry every little answer from the world. To chew their solutions, breaking them with his teeth and spitting out his own variation, his own thesis. He'd been so utterly convinced of his own intellect, convinced that reading Saadi at the same time as the latest research paper on Nuclear decay meant understanding the world.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He watched with staunch fascination as you tried to dance. Following your friend's steps, heels stepping awkwardly completely out of tune. You bend your knees, sinking to the floor. And Phosphorus can't think of any excuses for why his cheeks feel hotter than usual. Why his eyes are permanently affixed to the sway of your arms.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He thinks you look just like nuclear fission dancing in the limelight with your friends. Like you've split your own body to create them. Little atomic nucleus dancing under his microscope. You look perfect, your toned legs amplified by the radioactive pink of your heels. Long neck he'd love to kiss decorated with a thin string of gold. You don't look a thing like the other girls at the lounge, you look like an experiment beckoning him, seducing him into cutting you open, and observing how you explode.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's been following you keenly, trying to see what happens next. It's the fourth week in a row that he's forgotten about dancing for the crowd, about the girls who used to hang off his arms. He's too devoted to this experiment. "Nuclear scientist finds atomic bomb inside ancient temple from the bronze age". Phosphorus examines the sway of your hips, the bob of your head, and the crude kicks of your legs. There's something wrong with those heels, they're too thin, too high, inviting everyone to stare at you. But he's quick to shove them away, circling you from afar. He can't let anyone tamper with his experimentation. Certain matter performs differently when it knows it's being observed. So he allows the notion of invisibility, making you feel unobserved, safe in your own ignorance.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He hasn't felt this alive in years. This ecstasy tastes utterly sweet, pure saccharine. It's the same thrill as watching your particles stabilize after days of trying to find the right frequency. Watching them organize into the right motion. And isn't that what you are? An ionized atom. After all, what is dancing if not ionization, if not trying to lose a part of yourself you can no longer bear?

⋆☠︎︎⋆ He's late tonight, rivals had somehow bled in and were after the safe from Phosphorus' newest heist. He'd burned them to a crisp and danced on their ashes until they flew away. But that doesn't change the fact that he's late, too late in fact. When he rushes through the door, men nervously run behind him. His eyeless sockets fall upon an uttermost dreary sight...

⋆☠︎︎⋆ The problem with people is that they never truly appreciate beauty. They treat it as if it's something to conquer something to tame. They never bother to understand it, to study it from afar whispering prayers of gratitude for bearing witness to this new discipline. The man's body is too close to yours, head following your lips, as you awkwardly try to sidestep. The moment you try to flee he grabs your wrist. You scream, no one ever hears screaming through the bass and the rhythm.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ There's smoke in your eyes, sickly-sweet honey in the back of your throat. It's all too acrid but at least the hand assaulting your wrist subsides. The thing in front of you glows green, an acidic neon green that feels too familiar in shade. You watch as the skeleton seizes your shoulders, such a warm touch hearthlike in every way. He pulls you closer till all you can smell is null and all you can feel is smothering warmth.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never quite quiver under his touch, never fully shy away when he cups your jaw and tilts your head. It's like you want the radiation, want to feel his nuclear essence bleeding into you. Maybe then you'll be whole. Maybe then neither of you will need the music, and the lights, and the crowd to feel whole.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ You never belonged in the clubs, it was painfully obvious you could never mold to their dances, their music. Your heels never fit right. Phosphorous knows he's been trying to do the very same for all so long. Neither of you needed to kill off your electrons, to throw them away to ignorant nobodies who would sooner hurt you for their own voracious motivations. "Give me your electrons and I'll give you mine." Phosphorus tucks your head into the crux of his shoulder, "I'll fuse with you so you'll never need anyone else."

⋆☠︎︎⋆ Phosphorus' hands mirror yours, swaying overhead before falling lower like the cascade of a wave. Side step, side step, stop, and bend. He thinks this is better than any club, any choreography he could do by himself. He feels so whole dancing only for your eyes. He feels so happy having you dance only for his eyes. Your palms touch as you circle slowly. Dancing like the airy rotation of electrons. There's no more dancing at the Pink Pony Club.

⋆☠︎︎⋆ What do you call a dance that feels like merging two atoms? What do you call it when your heart feels like the denotation of a bomb? He presses his lips to yours slowly, feeling the nuclei crash, a nuclear reaction, his tongue hum between your teeth endeavoring to melt away your fear. His fingers, dance across your hips heating up, leaving burning hearts and hand prints, claiming you as his, making you death just like him.

Lost the request for this but thank you so so much to the sender!! 💞💋💞💋

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY KARLACH *  assorted dialogue from baldur's gate 3

i can't tell if you're flirting or threatening me. i'll take either one.

don't want the youths to think i'm not, you know, up with the times.

sometimes i look at you, and i just don't have words for this feeling. you are everything i ever hoped for. everything i thought i could never have. never deserve.

i just love listening to you speak.

i know i can make you melt.

i want all of you.

i don't think i have it in me to share.

will you stay with me? when it's time.

what the fuck is happening to us?

you know, [name], i'm not sure i can trust you anymore. you're... different. a bit scary, to be honest.

i'm sweating bullets. what if i blow our cover?

it's good to see you smiling, [name].

look at you. the years have been good to you.

we're in the city on some urgent business, but can i come find you when it's all settled?

whose idea was this? was it mine? am i insane?

i'll rip your tongue out, you liar.

you can't possibly believe this shit.

what i wouldn't give for another hour together. another minute.

i can't believe you saw that. you're too young for that.

once you start, it's hard to stop.

now there's a name i'd hoped never to hear again.

this is it. i can practically taste his blood from here.

you're asking a lot. but i can wait - for a while, at least.

i don't want to put you in harm's way either. i'll wait for now.

now you're speaking my language.

sorry i haven't visited. i've been... away. but i'm back now! and i brought friends.

i miss you so much. but i'm happy. and getting up to some really important shit.

i just want to understand. i just want to know why.

the fucker has to die.

this handwriting looks familiar.

do you know what you're doing?

sorry, i think you have the wrong person.

would you believe me if I said i've got to save the city?

i love good news.

glad to see you're so well set-up here.

if we can help them, we will.

could i see your wares?

you'll still be able to do your wizard thing, though, right?

i wouldn't mind doing a little shopping in the city.

to have someone who cares about you and throw them away... i don't know how you do it.

sounds like more your thing than mine.

i was just thinking the same thing, but less poetically.

you're good at staying in character. i'll give you that.

i was just being nice.

what a pesthole. can't wait to clear this place out.

i smell a fight brewing.

care for a dip?

it looks good on you.

good to know love is on the table though.

how could we let this happen?

let's just keep moving. i don't want to talk.

this place is absolutely beautiful. what a wonder.

hey, can i try something on you?

my heart isn't a toy, got it? treat it like one and you're going to get burned. badly.

my heart is telling me i love you.

if i didn't know better, i'd say you're falling in love.

will you excuse me?

you'd better step away before i do something i regret.

i'm glad you chose me.

you give me chills, baby.

i'm not going anywhere. i've got plans for the future, you know. and they involve you.

to be honest, i'm kind of shocked you chose me.

if i can have you back, i've got a place for you here. cozy. warm. safe. and you can stay as long as you want.

it sounds like you really meant it.

revenge sounds so sweet until you've taken it. then all you have is... no one left to blame.

you know, for a while there, i wasn't sure you'd come back. but look at you. you've done what few could ever do - created your own path.

is it almost time for dinner?

don't tease me. my lonesome heart can't take it.

you really are the best of the best. of the best.

you know i'd do just about anything for you.

if he lays a finger on you, i'll break it off. that's a promise.

what's on your mind?

you and me. let's imagine. we have a whole life ahead of us. what do we do?

i'd love for you to show me where you came from. hear your stories. meet your people.

no moment is guaranteed. except this one. and this one. and maybe this one too.

i'm going to live. i get to be alive. i get to stay.

i've never felt better. like i'm finally complete.

and here i thought you had half a brain. how wrong i was!

i love you. and i know you'll choose your destiny, and choose it well.

you're lucky i love you.

you hear me? you're all i could ever ask for.

come on. there's something i want to show you upstairs.

i will miss you. but i wish you luck.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Finally made a BurningCheese chart. I can finally die now /j

More detailed explanations under cut. I admit that my placements are a liiiiiiiiiittle all over the place because I ship BurningCheese a bunch of different ways, but for the most part it's really the enemies to lovers + redemption arc from my main canon influencing my thoughts here

Tropes: idk if this really needs much elaboration. Enemies to Lovers + Soulmates + Forbidden Love (the hero/villain type) + God Couple + Narrative/Character Foils + Golden Cheese has some tsundere tendencies at points + Burning Spice's yandere tendencies + Tall and Short + idk the exact names of all the tropes man lol. These are probably the most important ones

Age Difference: who actually knows lol. They're both old coots, that's the gist of it. They're so old that they both knew the Burger King when he was a prince. They're so old their birth certificates already expired. They're so old that if you told them to act their age, they'd keel over and die on the spot. Old people being madly in love even after so many years is so cute 😭

Height Difference: If your Burning Spice does not have to duck when walking through doorways then you're imagining him wrong. Hell I STILL might've made him too short. Golden Cheese must barely reach his shoulder while standing and fit snugly in his lap while sitting, It Is Decreed (I know 5'7" isn't THAT short, I'm just leaning into the short queen jokes)

Trust Lvl: This was a little tough for me because I was juggling multiple factors at once. I gave BS 100% trust because I think, no matter what, he genuinely would trust her. To love him, to be loyal, to be there when he needs her, to beat his ass black and blue when necessary, to listen to what he has to say about things. He's giving his whole entire self to her without hesitation or regrets. / There's that bit of the bar still empty for Golden Cheese because, even when she warms up to him (and she never once doubts his love for her, that's not the issue), she's not entirely sure of what he'll do. For a long while yet, some part of her will worry that he will turn on her and resume his reign of terror at any moment. She needs time and consistency. Proof that he will choose her over destruction if and when pushed. When he's fully able to do that, THEN she trusts him fully. (Outside of the main canon, it remains a bit empty (even LOWER in some instances) bc he very much remains evil and she cannot abide by that)

Jealousy Lvl: Burning Spice is jealous and possessive but not overly so. He doesn't really need to be; he knows his little bird is loyal. But she's a beautiful woman in more ways than one, and he's far from the only person to notice that. So he gets mad when he catches anyone making goo-goo eyes at her, or even flirting if they somehow have the gumption. He doesn't harm them anymore but he will step in and make some show of dominance, like grabbing her and pulling her into a kiss or scooping her up in his arms. Something to pointedly demonstrate that she is HIS and no one else's. / Golden Cheese is very confident and secure; she knows her worth and she knows and trusts that Burning Spice would never stray. But... in the end, she's still Golden Cheese. She's still greedy. She still doesn't want anyone coveting what is hers, no matter what. It's practically a compulsion at this point. So in those (thankfully rare) moments where some floozy who's forgotten her place tries to make a move on HER man, then she's more than happy to correct her. (The encounter ends with Spice covered in kiss marks (and super happy) and the wannabe homewrecker in tears because Golden can be a MEAN girl when she tries)

Horny Lvl: I might've made a mistake not marking Spice's a little bit higher because he's definitely a horndog lol. Of course he's not completely fucking bonkers but he does often struggle to keep his hands off of his bird wife. Physical touch is his main love language anyway + goddamn it she's gorgeous she's everything he ever wanted he NEEDS HER- / Golden Cheese very much enjoys sex and thinks their sex life is perfect, but she's not as needy as him. Like, she doesn't DIE for it unless it's been too long. She has self-control/discipline and other things to think about lol (there's actually a nsfw ship chart that I've thought about filling out and posting, but idk if I should. I have a billion headcanons for them, sfw and nsfw. I'm just nervous abt the latter because I feel kind of embarrassed lol. I usually save the freaky stuff for AO3)

Clingy Lvl: Again, physical touch is Burning Spice's main love language. That combined with his time in prison (millennia in isolation) and Golden Cheese being his literal soulmate makes for a good deal of separation anxiety lol. He will give her space if she really pushes, and of course he has things he wants to do on his own time and she can't always be around. But... no matter what, at the end of the day, he NEEDS her back in his arms. He gets bored and lonely really fast without her. She makes his day better just being near him. He needs to touch her, hold her, hear her voice, run his hands through her wings, taste those pretty lips again... / With all of the hardship she's endured in her life, Golden Cheese has developed a certain tolerance for solitude. Of course she'd rather have company, including his, but if push comes to shove, she can handle being alone. She's fiercely independent in many aspects of her life. Her time with Burning Spice can wait if something more important comes up. She won't die without him. (But she'll certainly miss him)

How It Happens: come on man, you played the game, didn't you? BS falling head over heels on sight, feelings only deepening with time and closeness, and him doing everything in his power to be near her as often as possible? For sure. Golden Cheese taking 10000 years to warm up to him, slowly starting to see the halfway decent man buried deep down beneath the blackened soil of his heart, starting to care for him and want him by her side without even realizing it at first, and trying to deny it when she finally does realize what's happening? Definitely

Relationship Attitude: Obviously they're both very much in love and devoted to each other, but Golden Cheese dials it back a bit in public - just for the sake of appearances, really. She's the queen; she can't go about acting like a lovestruck schoolgirl, she has a reputation to uphold. Burning Spice, on the other hand, absolutely does not give a fuck about what anyone has to say about anything at all. He WILL trap his little bird in a warm embrace and he WILL smother her with kisses and fuck whoever is standing there watching, they can fuck off and mind their own business

First to Confess: He may not have said the exact words "I love you" but good Lord he may as well have with how he behaves in episode 6 lmao. 555-COME-ON-NOW (and omg he is SO fucking happy she eventually says it back)

First to Kiss: Spice. Duh lol. Honestly the only reason he didn't kiss her during eps 5 and 6 is because Devsis are a bunch of cowards

First to Apologize: Another tough one bc they're both very proud/stubborn and would probably demand the other apologize before they do. But because Golden Cheese is a hero at her core, I think it's a bit more likely that she'd say it first. Usually.

Initiates Contact: Spice all the way. He even initiated when they first met lol. He's always the one seeking her out, starting conversations, getting those big strong arms of his around her. Not that she never initiates, he just does it a lot more

Spoils the Other: In total honesty I think they both spoil the other, just in different ways. Golden Cheese with food and trinkets and general pampering, Burning Spice with that physical affection of his. Plenty of flirting and compliments from both. But Goldie is Goldie so of course she wins lol. As if she wouldn't lavish her lover with the finest of everything all the time

Wakes Up First: As queen, Golden Cheese has long since grown accustomed to rising bright and early to attend to her kingdom and subjects. "Early bird gets the cheese" and all that. Burning Spice sleeps like the dead and always wakes up after her (usually to grumble about her getting up bc he doesn't want her to. He tries to hold her hostage in bed almost every morning)

Does the Cooking: Believe it or not, Burning Spice is actually a pretty good chef (I headcanon him as such haha). Golden Cheese really loves the food he makes (he's best with food from his own culture, but he does a good job with other things too) and she's used to other people cooking for her (she's pretty basic at it tbh. She doesn't burn water like Hollyberry but she can't do much) so hubby making her good food? Yes please

Does the Housework: I cannot imagine Golden Cheese NOT being a bit of a neat freak. Why wouldn't she want everything looking pristine 24/7, to fit her immaculate visions of an immaculate, prosperous land? Burning Spice is Burning Spice, he would sleep on the fucking floor and in piles of trash and dirty clothes (and probably has tbh) if left alone, he is literally Destruction why would he clean anything. He gets pissy when he sweeps the floor with a broom for 5 seconds he ain't doing no housework unless forced to (which he often is)

Does the Talking: Was going to leave just Goldie but tbh I don't see Spice just standing there while she talks. He'd want to talk himself. He'd want to participate. He's not shy, he's no introvert. They're both asserting themselves in conversations for sure

The More Popular: I chose to define "popular" as "regarded with affection and respect by many", thus handing it to Goldie. Spice has his soldiers and they are numerous, but they obey him only out of fear. Golden is genuinely loved and listened to. (Even post-redemption, people just gravitate to her more lol. Just how it is)

The Designated Driver: Burning Spice behind the wheel is a doomsday scenario. He has been preemptively banned from driving to prevent death and property damage and war crimes. Fine, whatever, he'd rather walk. He doesn't need this newfangled contraption no matter how cool it is. Come on let him drive a monster truck 200 mph through concrete walls :(

The Better Caregiver: I'm certain they'd both take care of each other when sick or injured. Doubly so since both would probably balk at being fussed over lol. (I know Golden has her attendants and likes being pampered but I feel like it would just hit different with Spice, you know?) They're both proud and stubborn and need to appear strong all the time... But when the shoe is on the other foot, they'd both do whatever they can for the other regardless of their protests. (Especially true on Spice's part when Golden is pregnant with their kids, he goes above and beyond for her both times)

The Overprotective One: This is more so when Golden is pregnant tbh. Any other time, they don't really worry much about each other's safety as they're very confident in each other's strength and fighting capabilities ("I'm not locked in here with you, you're locked in here with me"). When she's pregnant, Spice goes full Protective Husband/Papa Bear mode and both worships the ground she walks on and fusses over he constantly, almost treating her like a porcelain doll. Her needs and wants are always met immediately, but he basically becomes her second shadow and is even hostile to other people who interact with her. It's both sweet and frustrating

The Planner: Golden Cheese planned a whole ass highly detailed virtual reality where her subjects could live again. Burning Spice forsook planning and anything like it in his descent into villainy as he couldn't bring himself to care about it anymore. Destruction doesn't need a plan. So yeah, Golden is the planner for sure. Best Spice would do is maybe try to plan dates because he wants to please/impress her

"Excuse me, they asked for no pickles": Spice just likes watching Golden go and firmly correct people lol. It's funny and hot. He doesn't even really care that the pickles are there, he just loves her assertiveness

Big Spoon VS Little Spoon: Was going to leave Spice on Big Spoon end and Golden on Little Spoon end but tbh, they'd split it. Spice is Big Spoon more often than not but Golden would definitely be Big Spoon too. They holdin each othah

Early Bird VS Revenge Procrastination: refer to "Wakes Up First". Golden has a kingdom to run, can't sleep in. Spice technically does too but whatever they're tough they can do shit on their own, he wants to lay in bed with his bird wife go away

Tidy VS Chaotic: Refer to "does the housework". Golden Cheese cares about appearances and functionality, she wants her kingdom and living space clean and beautiful and the envy of the world. Burning Spice is Burning Spice

Screams Over Bugs VS Kills/Removes Bugs: I don't think Golden would do either tbh. Probably just shoo the bug away. Spice is squashing that fucker though, even post-redemption (old habits die hard)

Lends Clothes VS Borrows Clothes: Spice doesn't really have too many clothes to lend tbh (too big + not really her style). She mostly nabs any jewelry he has lol. He doesn't mind, he actually really adores that she'll wear his things. He sees it as a show of pride in their relationship. (Shhh... Sometimes, when they've been apart for a long time and his absence feels particularly painful, she'll grab one of his dhotis and wrap herself up in it. Bring it to her face, breathe in his scent. Revel in its softness. Don't tell anyone)

Takes Hints VS Clueless: ngl as forward as Spice is with Golden, I'm not sure he'd notice or care if anyone else flirted with him. He just doesn't seem like the type to have ever cared about that sort of thing, both as Herald and as Beast. Too wrapped up in other ideas and pursuits (and in the event that he actually caught on to someone hitting on him, Herald would've politely turned them down and Beast would viciously mock them and probably kill them). Like, Golden actually is the one person that ever caught his eye. And she's got more relationship experience under her belt and knows how to be subtle, so there actually are times when she says or does something and it goes over his head (it's cute and funny sometimes and frustrating others)

Romantic VS Casual: They're certainly not casual but I think Golden would put more effort into being romantic just as a consequence of who she is. That "wanting to pamper and adore my lover to the fullest extent" thing. Spice didn't care about love or romance before her, and was just never really a romantic type. He tries to pick it up more just for her. But what he perceives to be romantic doesn't always align with "tradition" (ex: he thinks their brutal fights are hot/romantic). He does have some charm, he can be smooth, he can do genuinely sweet and romantic things. But it's something he learns and refines over time

Decisive VS Indecisive (I FORGOT THIS ONE FUCK): They're both pretty decisive and firm in their decisions. What makes Golden hesitate is specifically her relationship and interactions with Spice. Grappling with the reality of her feelings and attachment and their relationship. Wondering if he'll turn on her when she lets her guard down. Struggling with the morality of it all. Fearing rejection to a small degree maybe. (I honestly like the concept of the Beasts and Ancients bringing things out of each other that no one else can or has. Like how Shadow Milk makes Pure Vanilla genuinely angry, or Burning Spice makes Golden Cheese doubt herself and her choices. I want them all keeping each other on their toes. Challenging each other. Making each other upset when they're happy and happy when they're upset. You know what I mean?)

Mature VS Playful: I think they're both equally playful with each other tbh. Something they're both on the same level with. Lots of banter (I love writing their back-and-forths, imo they'd keep up with each other so well), lighthearted sarcasm and jabs and jokes, some play fighting/roughhousing. They have fun with each other

Straightforward VS Vague: Spice has been telling Golden things to her face from minute 1. Just admitting all of his shit to her. Spilling his spaghetti. He likes her, he wants her, they're going to be together forever. Point blank period.

Confident VS Shy: Of course they're both super confident, do I have to elaborate? Lol

Ray of Sunshine VS Done™️: Golden may not be on the same level as Pure Vanilla (nobody is lol) but even so, all things considered, she seems like a relatively happy person. Still finds joy in life and things. She's not cold or stoic or anything like that. Spice... I probably should've moved him further to the right tbh. I just always think of "done" as "visibly tired" and I let that influence his placement. He IS tired, he IS done, it just presents differently. So forgive me and imagine his little Soul Jam there being significantly closer to the end of the right side please and thank you

Realistic VS Idealistic: dude come on lol. The game spells it out for us. Spice is a cruel, bloodthirsty nihilist who goes out of his way to take down things that make people happy. Who virulently denies the value of life and humanity and insists that everything and everyone are only destined to become dust, and any attempt to stop or deny this is futile and pathetic. He's cynical, pessimistic, doesn't do "hope" or ideals anymore. Golden, on the other hand, believes so strongly in her own dreams and ideals that she locked herself away in a false reality just so she could "revive" her kingdom. And when she woke, she continued dedicating herself to finding a way to bring them all back. She is hope and idealism incarnate, to the point of straight up delusion. They're both extremes that mirror each other

Would Die for Attention VS Independent: Look at all the crazy shit Spice has done so Golden would pay attention to him lol. He needs the pretty cheese lady to notice him and talk to him and touch him and beat him up. Please. Pretty please (not as pretty as her though, nothing is). Please they're soulmates she has to. He won't immediately burst into flames if she's not next to him 24/7, but he's happier with her than without. He starts itching when they're apart for too long (and it doesn't take all THAT long tbh). As said before, Golden likes and wants his company but she's always been a fiercely independent woman and can handle solitude

Tense VS Easygoing: wasn't super sure what to do for this one. Like idk what "tense" is supposed to mean here. I think Golden is relatively normal about everything, doesn't worry about cheating or anything else really. I attribute that little bit of tenseness in Spice to his jealousy and clinginess. But otherwise he's probably fine

Head VS Heart: neither of them are stupid, far from it, but it's clear that they both allow emotion to govern their actions more than logic lol. No matter how he may claim to have destroyed his own emotions to rid himself of attachment, it's clear that Burning Spice still feels things, in general but ESPECIALLY for/about her. It's all heart when it comes to her. No logic, no laws, no rules, just him and her and THEM. Just their connection, just their relationship. Golden Cheese may still abide by a somewhat stronger logical anchor, but even so, she's a "heart" girl. It's her heart that pushed her to make her fantasy world. It's her heart that makes her cling so hard to her treasures, despite logically knowing they're gone. It was her heart that saved her in episode 6, her thoughts and memories and love for her friends that made and still make her strong. And though logic fights a good fight with regards to her relationship with Spice, it's her heart that wins again in the end

[frantic-fiction]

Secluded Evening 18+

(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Word Count: 2.8k

The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are at each other’s throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldur’s Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but he’s Wyll, so that’s not surprising.

Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. “Tav, I don’t believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. “I will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.”

You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. It’s the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.

“Look, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or you’ll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just ‘had to get,’ then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.” By the end, you’re yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.

You reach out a tentative hand, “Gale, I didn’t—”

“No, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.” He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.

Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Gale’s condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. “Fuck,” you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.

“I must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.” Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. “Oh, I'm sure,” you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.

It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.

He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. “Darling, I’ve noticed you’ve been very stressed these last few days.”

His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. “I think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?” His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.

You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. “You're right.” His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. “I think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.”

When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.

Astarion’s grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. “Thank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?”

He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.

The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.

It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.

“Well, isn't this just a coincidence?” Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. “I was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.”

You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. “Well, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.

Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.

His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. “You asshole.”

He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.

Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.

It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.

Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"

And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.

You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.

You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.

"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.

"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."

"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.

Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.

Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."

"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."

Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.

"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.

You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolves—you're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."

His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.

Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."

Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.

You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.

Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.

The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fast…faster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."

"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."

He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.

The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.

As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrust—the metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."

It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.

You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.

With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.

Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.

You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.

"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.

You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.

You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "I…" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.

Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his hand—pressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"

Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.

Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.

If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.

Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares

[star-reaper]

Arcane Silco x Reader One-shot - I Trust You

Synopsis: After the incident with Vander, you find what remains of the Silco you left at The Last Drop the night before. Now heart shattered, terrified, and close to death, he grips on tight to the only thing he has left as you try your best to comfort him and aid his wounds.

Young!Silco, Pre S1, Implied Fem!Reader but could be read GN, mentions of injury, blood, typical canon violence, knife mentioned, Hurt/Comfort, angst, established relationship, Medic!Reader

I've been inspired after wasting DAYS reading Silco fics, thank you fellow Arcane fanfic writers ❤️ Maybe I'll write more for the fandom?????

The cracked cobblestone paths of the cramped Undercity clack loudly under the worn soles of your boots. Your medic bag hangs loosely over your shoulder, the parched leather splitting at the seams as you toy with the fraying material between your nails.

You don't need to be told that tonight's highly-anticipated Uprising was a failure. You can judge its success based solely on the amount of rioters you saw in your office today; chipped teeth, brutal burn wounds, broken limbs, concussions. The unrest between Zaun and the ever-oppressive Piltover thickens with each passing minute, Enforcers becoming more violent and Zaunites only more angry.

Tonight's rally was meant to be the turning point, Zaun would fight back and push past the bridge, securing their futures with an iron grip and hearts full of hope. Vander spoke of it just yesterday evening, eyes gleaming with ambition saccharine sweet as he raised his glass of ale high in cheer. Silco, your Silco, with a smile so sure, so wide, you were certain you'd never seen him so excited.

"You're sure you can't make it?" He's asking you, shoulder jostling your own as he slides into the seat beside you at the bar. The cacophony of cheer around the bar following Vander's inspiring speech seems to die down and reduce to a droning chatter of voices and clinking dish ware.

Your eyes peel away from Vander — who is serving patrons left and right with an energy so radiant you can't help but shake your head at him, a small smile gracing your features — to meet Silco's sea-foamy green ones, peering down at you from the slant of his nose.

"You know riots mean people tend to get hurt. I'll be more needed at the med center, that's where I can do my part." You say, and it's true. The Undercity lacks in abundance, especially lacking in individuals with medical knowledge, much less an affordable one, or even a doctor you can trust. You've become an important addition to The Children of Zaun, and even more important to the citizens you look out for.

Silco nods, understanding, albeit disappointed that you won't be by his side. He wraps an arm loosely around your shoulders, pulling you in so he can press a chaste kiss to your temple.

"I know. This will be a big one, an important one. We'll be needing you down here."

You smiled softly, "You'll be careful, won't you?"

"As careful as I always am." Silco smirked.

"Great, so I'll be seeing you tomorrow night in my office is what I'm hearing?"

"Well, when you make it sound so scandalous I couldn't possibly miss out, my dear."

You're rolling your eyes at him, nudging him back with your adjacent shoulder as he chuckles. A peaceful silence overcomes the two of you as you soak in your surroundings at the bustling bar. Felicia is bickering with Vander at the counter, her vibrant purple braid flicked over her shoulder and Vander is laughing at her playful scowl.

"What will you do, if you succeed?" You ask suddenly.

Silco doesn't hesitate a second, "Not if. We will. We must succeed." His brows furrow for a moment, "I don't know what I will do. I'll come back for you, and then I suppose we will figure it out together like we always do. You trust me, don't you?"

You can't help but grin at that, "Of course I trust you."

Trust has always been one of the most important values holding you and Silco together. No matter what, you would always trust each other, to the ends of the earth. And you'd never stop reminding the other.

Your next thought is interrupted by Benzo, at least six ales down.

"There will be celebrations all through Zaun tomorrow night just you wait! In just another twenty four hours we will be commemorating our victories with each and every Zaunite throughout the city!"

But, as you make your way home it becomes blatantly apparent that there are no celebrations raging through Zaun tonight, there was no victory, and instead just an evening full of shattered hearts and broken bones.

Needless to say, Silco never did make it to your office tonight, and now as you walk back home on tired feet in the early hours of the dawn you find yourself wondering what state he could be in.

Silco may not be the strongest, but he's quick, and he's so painfully smart you can bet he hadn't been caught by Enforcers — but then if not carted away to Stillwater, why hadn't you seen him at the med center as you usually do after a riot? The nerves bite at your system, and you can only hope he is safe and sound at The Last Drop where you left him yesterday night, waiting for you to find in a few hours. First, you know you need to sleep off the fatigue of tending to the injured all night long.

You turn right into the alleyway that cuts through the block of stacked houses and cross the street to your home. As the door comes into view it is then that you feel a prickling sensation of unease creeping into your very being. You remove your hood from your head, peering at your surroundings cautiously in an effort to calm yourself. There's no one around. Nothing to explain the worry woven into your deepest instincts as you quicken your steps to the entrance of your abode.

The single key fished from the pocket of your med bag rattles in the rickety doorknob before the lock unlatches. The wood swings open with a creak.

There's water everywhere. Puddles of the polluted brown liquid spreads from the front entrance. It trails through the house where cabinets and drawers are left ajar and furniture lies knocked over on the uneven floor. You freeze in horror at the state of your belongings before spotting the streaks of blood on the floor and the counters of your kitchen. Whoever had trespassed had done it in a panicked struggle, things haphazardly left out all around the property. You huff a swear before dropping your bag as silently as you can at the front door, your tiredness suddenly swept away and replaced with unfiltered adrenaline. Survival-mode kicks in, and you're creeping with predator-like stealth to the kitchen. A peek into the open drawer confirms your suspicions, and whoever had broken in had stolen the large kitchen knife you stored and was likely wielding the weapon somewhere in your home.

You go for the next best thing, a rusted but still sharp pair of cooking scissors which you grasp tight in your palm, blade poised.

Following the trail of blood and water, your head swiveling vigilantly in every which direction, you make your way up the short flight of stairs to the second floor. Your bedroom door is wide open, a handprint of blood smeared across the edge of it in a rush. You take a deep, shuddering breath before slipping through the threshold.

The bed is left tidied and made, moth eaten sheets folded over the top of the frayed duvet and curtains billowing softly from the cold breeze which spills through the crack in the window. It's all in the state that you left it in. Your brows furrow in confusion before spotting the faint light which emanates from the crack under the adjoining bathroom door.

Your hands tremble as you creep towards the door, wondering if what lies behind it is the means to your fateful end. Teeth wearing into the flesh of your bottom lip, you stop and lean against the wall beside the bathroom. You listen, ears straining hard to hear through the barrier before you catch it.

It's the faint sound of someone crying, notable only by the quiet, shuddering breaths and wet sniffling that periodically breaks the whimpering noise.

It's then that you hear the low whisper interrupting the soft sobbing, the voice tinged with abysmal pain and fear, "Fuck—,"

Silco.

You're not even thinking as the scissors fall from your grasp, hitting the floor with a metallic clang before you wrench open the door and burst inside, heart thrumming viscously in the cage of your chest as you recognize your lover's voice.

Your breath catches hard in your throat at the sight before you; Silco, curled tightly in the basin of your bathtub, head to toe in soaking wet clothes stained with blood which drips from his face. His wet black hair hangs disheveled over half of his features, cloaking him in the raven locks. Your missing kitchen knife is clasped rigidly in between both hands, blade sticking straight out and bobbing with his labored breaths. His one visible eye widens in what you think is fear and his whole body freezes up at the sight of you, his legs scramble against the edge of the tub like he's trying to get away from you but all you can think is, he's hurt. You have to fix him.

"Silco," you rasp, reaching for him frantically with tears brimming in your eyes but before you know it he's yelling, pointing the blade of the knife at you and waving it around haphazardly.

"Stop—" He's crying, but the syllable comes out guttural and hoarse, "Don't touch me!"

You freeze, hands up to show you mean no harm and falling back on your knees to be eye level with him.

You swallow before you try to say anything, but the lump in your throat only grows ten-fold.

"Silco," you try, tentatively. "What happened?"

"Felicia's dead." Is what he manages to gasp, teeth gritting hard and eyes squeezing shut, another stray tear falling down his face.

You don't realize you're treating him like a patient until you're halfway done examining him with just a glance. His nails are bent and broken like he had scratched desperately at an unrelenting force, the torn collar of his jacket reveals blooms of a deep purple encompassing the surface of his throat and neck, blood pours from what you could see of his cheek, down his jaw and off the point of his chin. His eyes are swollen and bloodshot and his nose is definitely crooked— likely broken and the bruising is beginning to swell beneath his eyes. It doesn't take a genius to tell he had been asphyxiated, and beaten, hard.

Felicia. Felicia is dead. You're trying to hold onto your resolve, face relaxed as to not alarm him any further but your heart wants to cry out in agony. Another good soul, lost to a helpless cause. Another loved one, gone. You want to ask where Vander is, where Benzo is. Whatever it is that happened at the Uprising has clearly shaken Silco to the core, nearly unrecognizable with fear and shame and you worry that if you break down now nothing will be left to hold the rest of him together.

"I don't know where to go. I don't have anyone else." Silco is rambling now, voice sore and body shaking. "I can't go back. I can't go back, he'll finish me off."

"Silco, who? What's happened to you? I don't understand—" You can feel the tears spilling over and you choke on a sob, terrified for the man you love.

Silco shakes his head rapidly, he opens his mouth like he'll try to explain but is cut off by a cry so anguished you feel your own soul shattering. His shoulders tremble and you realize he must be freezing, his clothes saturated and the chill of the night air permeating his figure.

"I'll be right back. I'm going to get you a blanket and I'll come right back." you say gently.

He nods and hangs his head low, avoiding eye contact.

You retreat to the bedroom and pull your duvet right off the bed, also grabbing the forgotten glass of water left on the nightstand from the night before. You stand at the threshold of the bathroom peering in as non threatening as you can before taking a deep breath.

"I need you to put the knife down." you whisper.

Silco glances at the object in his hand and stares at it in shock for a split second, like he had not even realized he'd armed himself with your household items.

"I would never hurt you, Silco."

He takes a deep breath, and flips the blade before handing it over to you, handle out.

"Thanks," you whisper, placing the knife on the bathroom counter across from you. You trade it for the glass of water. "Here. Can I touch you?"

Silco takes a deep breath, eyes shut before nodding and wiping crudely at his cheek with the back of his hand, the skin pulling away wet with his tears.

You sit at the edge of the tub and pull the thick duvet into the basin, pausing over Silco's soaked figure.

"Do you want to take your clothes off? We can get you dry and warm."

He shakes his head no, but does pull off the bulky jacket, the wet fabric slapping against the surface of the porcelain bathtub. You drape the blanket over his shoulders, wrapping it around to his front and tucking it around him the best you can manage. He takes a long sip of the water, grimacing as he swallows and you try to catch a glimpse of the bruising on his neck.

"It's okay, I got you." You whisper. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but I need to know what's wrong so I can fix it. You can even just point." You say, hand massaging tenderly over his blanketed shoulder.

"I-I can't see out of my left eye," He says, voice low and gravelly, "it hurts."

"Can I look?"

Silco lifts a hand and runs it through his long hair, pushing most of it back out of his face but a few unruly tresses fall back over his forehead. You can't help the gasp that falls from your lips as you survey the gashes running across his eye and mutilating the whole expanse of the area. Blood oozes from the wounds and the flesh swells bright red and pink and you know it's already infected. You can't save the eye, that much is evident.

"I need to clean it before the infection spreads any further, I'm sorry." You cringe, "It's going to hurt but you could die if I don't treat it now."

He nods. Silco seems to be of sounder mind now. Not relaxed by any means, but his breathing is controlled, his good eye is focused and he's understanding you.

You turn around to retrieve your personal medical supplies in the linen closet and find the bottle of antiseptic and gauze, when you turn around you meet Silco's gaze, his brows pressed together with worry and mouth pressed into a deep frown. The blood from his eye drips on the fabric of your blanket and stains it the color of rust.

"It was Vander." he says.

You freeze up, nearly dropping the bottle, "Vander did this to you?" you ask incredulously.

Silco nods. "I didn't mean to get her killed. I didn't mean it, none of this was supposed to happen, I—" he breaks off into silent tears again and you gently hush him.

You've never seen him cry in the many years you've spent together, now to witness it so many times in one night you have no idea how to handle it.

"It's okay, you can explain later. I trust you." You assure.

You tilt his chin to look at you and wipe the tears from his face.

"I trust you." You say again.

"Okay." Silco appeases, "I trust you, too."

It takes nearly an hour to clean out his wounds, by then the sun is beginning to rise, a blue haze filtering in through the windows and casting a glow on everything the light touches. Silco has stripped from his wet clothes and showered, but had asked sweetly if you would wait for him in the bathroom to which you comply.

He changes into dry clothes he had left here ages ago and now lies in your bed, curled up on his side. The blankets are tucked over him and he lays silently beside you while you card your fingers through his hair. His sighs against the skin of your shoulder.

You know he wants to sleep but fears the playback behind his eyes of the events of the failed Uprising, but his body can't physically stand to move anymore. His injured eye is packed under gauze and medical tape and you can only hope you did all that you could.

His eyes flicker up to yours, "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I owe you a proper explanation. Thank you, for caring for me."

"I'll always care for you, Silco. You don't owe me anything, this is what I'm here for. You can tell me when you're ready."

"Okay." He replies, stroking your cheek with the backs of his split knuckles before tangling gently in the hair at the nape of your neck. You lay like that together for a while, you drifting in and out of consciousness as the adrenaline wears off and the chaos of the day becomes a memory. You trace the sharp angular features of Silco's face lovingly, pressing a sleepy kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your mind wanders to Vander, to Felicia, to Felicia's two beautiful children and Benzo and The Last Drop.

You wonder if things will ever be the same again and your heart aches at the silent answer. You know you'll never be able to forgive the man who hurt Silco like this; destroyed him at his very core and you know he will never be the same again.

"We can't trust anyone now. Only each other." Silco says, voice thick with pain.

"I'll always trust you." You reply softly, "Sleep, Silco. You need to rest. We will figure it out in a few hours."

Your eyes drift closed after that, the last of your sentence trailing off as you succumb to your exhaustion. The last thing you see is the pretty green-blue eye of your lover, half lidded and glistening in the light of the sunrise.

"I love you."

[tennessoui]

asdkjgf #1 or maybe #15?? good luck on your papers and one the writers block!!

thank you 🥰 i finished my papers (ish) and yet my writers block persists >:( at least i still have a few more prompts to work through to help 🥰

[from this list of prompts]

[2. 'have you lost your damn mind?' - 4. 'do you...well, i mean...i could give you a massage?' - 5. 'are you jealous' - 6. 'is there a reason you're naked in my bed?' - 13. 'kiss me.' - 14. 'hey, i'm with you, okay? always.' - 18. 'this is the stupidest plan you've ever had. of course i'm in.' - 19. 'the paint is supposed to go where?' - 22. 'i've seen the way you look at me when you think i don't notice' - 24. 'you're the only one i trust to do this' - 25. 'i can't believe you talked me into this' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 28. 'marry me?' - 29. 'i thought you were dead' - 32. 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified' - 37. 'wanna dance?' - 38. 'you fainted straight into my arms...if you wanted my attention, you didn't have to got to such extremes.' (LATEST) - 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 41. 'you did all of this for me?' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

1. 'Come over here and make me.' (slightly NSFW)

Anakin doesn't know what makes his master get that playful glint in his eyes, but he thinks it's probably for the best that he remain oblivious. Otherwise, he'd be trying to make it happen all the time.

He knows that about himself, knows that when it comes to his master, he wants and wants and wants and never feels satisfied by what he already has. He has so much of Obi-Wan in private, maybe more of the man than anyone ever has been allowed to see before Anakin, definitely more of the man than anyone has ever been allowed to possess. So he knows that logically, he should be satisfied with what he has of his master, satisfied with the other man's sweet nothings and constant affections when they're in the privacy of their quarters or the silence of hyperspace.

But he loves when Obi-Wan looks at him like this, eyes heated and crinkled up with the force of his smile. He loves Obi-Wan always, all variations of him of course, but he especially loves him like this. Loose-limbed and, well.

The only word Anakin can think of is arrogant.

His master looks arrogant as he leans back in his Council seat, legs parted at a mouth-watering angle and eyes pinned on Anakin with enough heat that he's a bit worried he'll spontaneously combust beneath his gaze.

The training bond between them, illicitly never severed and incredibly important to keep secret, is alight with activity. As if Obi-Wan has forgotten how important it is to be secretive.

Or as if Obi-Wan knows and has decided, temporarily, that he doesn't care.

The smile narrows, turns into a smirk, and his master shifts in his seat, leaning against one arm rest and resting his chin on his fist.

The bond hums, and Anakin's mind is suddenly filled with a new picture. Himself, sinking to his knees in the middle of the Council chamber and crawling across the floor to push in between the triangle of his master's spread thighs.

The room is suddenly incredibly hot. Uncomfortably so. Anakin is sure he's blushing. No, Anakin sure he's burning up.

"Knight Skywalker?" Master Fisto prompts, tilting his head and studying him curiously. "Your report, if you please."

"Apologies," Anakin chokes out, trying to block his side of the bond so that he may keep his wits about him. Obi-Wan's smug amusement and arrogance grow deeper, sharper. "I fear traveling so far has tired me unduly."

"You look sun-flushed," his master points out, blinking innocently back at him even as he pushes a memory across their bond: Anakin, shortly before he'd departed on his mission, sprawled across Obi-Wan's lap with his ass upturned and smacked violently red, like a preemptive punishment of sorts.

His master will never admit to his own possessive behavior, but he always gets a certain kind of...jealous in the days leading up to missions Anakin takes to Naboo.

Usually Anakin relishes in it, in the tangible proof that his master cares, craves, and claims him.

But right now, it's bordering on obscene.

"The mission went well," he reports with as steady a voice as he can manage. He'd rehearsed the script during the trip back, as uncomfortable to step in front of the Council has he's always been.

His mind fills with a textured, soundless image of Anakin riding Obi-Wan, hands wrapped tight around his master's throat. Not an uncommon position, though they've certainly never kriffed in Obi-Wan's Council seat.

Master, stop that--please-- he pushes the thought across their bond, along with his embarrassment, desperation, and arousal. I can't think, stop, I need to--

In the room, across from him in his circle, his master blinks cooly back at him. A picture of Jedi perfection. Not even a hair out of place.

And yet--

Come over here and make me, Obi-Wan pushes back to him across their bond, paired with the same image as before, of Anakin crawling to him on his knees. Climbing up into his lap and giving in to him--giving over to him.

Master, please, Anakin begs as he feels his cock harden further in his pants. Even the presence of Grandmaster Yoda can't stop his body from responding to Obi-Wan's mental touch.

The bond flares open wider at his desperation. Wider than Obi-Wan seems to have planned because a thought of his master's slips through this time to accompany the pornography.

Mine, his master thinks as if his own control is frayed and close to snapping in two. My boy.

Yours, yes, still, always, Anakin sends back, lightning fast. "Uh, sorry," he says out loud when he notices how much time has passed. "The Naboo queen was able to successfully negotiate the fleet's movements through the sector."

The bond between them freezes, pictures halting, thank the Force. Then his master slams up his mental shields, cutting Anakin off from his mind completely.

Anakin has to bite his lip so he doesn't give into the urge to gawp at the gall of the other man, who looks as unaffected as he did ten minutes ago when the torture started.

He realizes a second later that Master Fisto has asked him another question. "I'm sorry?" he says, turning to look at the Jedi Master.

"Please pay attention, Knight Skywalker," Obi-Wan drawls. "I know you must have a lot on your mind, but the Council's time is important."

Anakin flushes and decides that if he makes it out of this mission debrief alive, he is going to kill Obi-Wan. Really and truly this time. He's going to get the man on his cock and then he's going to squeeze his neck and he's going to throttle him and he's really, actually not going to stop this time.

[belit0]

Izuna babysitting Madara's granddaughter

How would that go?

I LOVE THIS OMFG IZUNA IS MY BABY BOY I LOVE MY IZUNA SO MUCH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA PLUS HE'S SUCH A BAD INFLUENCE BUT THE FUNNY UNCLE AT THE END OF THE DAY (let's call them uncle/nice just to make it easier, I always mess up with those things xd)

Babysitting gone wrong (or right, if you ask Izuna)

Madara crosses his arms, fixing Izuna with a stare so sharp it could cut stone. His granddaughter stands beside him, her small hands folded neatly in front of her, watching the exchange with wide, expectant eyes.

-Listen to me carefully, Izuna.- Madara’s voice is grave, as if entrusting him with the fate of the entire clan rather than a seven-year-old child. -No chaos. No dangerous activities. No setting anything on fire. No encouraging bad behavior. Just watch her until I return.-

Izuna leans back, tilting his head. -Uh-huh. Yeah. Sure. Got it.-

Madara narrows his eyes. -Repeat it.-

Izuna exhales dramatically. -No chaos. No fun. No good time whatsoever. No training in the art of war. No leading her down the righteous path of Uchiha rebellion. Basically, be a Senju for the day.- He grins. -I’d rather die, but okay.-

Madara pinches the bridge of his nose. -Just keep her alive.-

-Alive? That I can do.- Izuna shoots his niece a smirk. -But thriving? That’s a different story.-

Madara sighs. -I’ll be back before sundown. Don’t make me regret this.-

With one last suspicious glance, he leaves.

The second Madara disappears, his granddaughter tugs on Izuna’s sleeve, eyes gleaming with barely-contained excitement.

-Uncle, I want to do something fun.

Izuna crouches down to her level, considering. -Kay... we can burn a tree if you want?-

Her face lights up. -Yes!-

Izuna grins. -That’s my girl.-

And thus, chaos begins:

Wrestling a particularly aggressive rooster in a neighbor’s yard

It started as an innocent challenge.

-Do you think you could take on that rooster?- Izuna had asked.

-I know I can,- his niece had replied, rolling up her sleeves.

The rooster won. (Temporarily. Until Izuna intervened. Now the rooster has a newfound fear of Uchihas.)

Throwing shuriken at apples balanced on each other’s heads

-Precision is an important skill,- Izuna reasoned, carefully placing an apple on his niece’s head.

-Are you sure about this uncle?- she asked, already lifting a shuriken.

-Absolutely.

-Okay, but if I hit you instead of the apple, don’t be mad.

-I would be proud.- (She missed three times, but that’s beside the point.)

Dueling with real swords (but, like, carefully)

-Uncle, Grandpa said I'm too young to handle a sword.

-That’s because Grandpa Madara is boring.

-Are you sure I won’t cut myself?

-Of course not!- (He was not sure at all.)

Miraculously, neither of them got seriously injured—though Izuna now has a suspiciously long cut on his sleeve that he will absolutely lie about later.

Trying to summon a toad with a stolen summoning scroll

-Wait, uncle, this isn’t yours?

-Semantics.

-Is this allowed?

-We’ll find out.- (They found out. It was not allowed. The toad was also way bigger than expected.)

Challenging a merchant to a spicy food contest and almost passing out

It started when Izuna spotted a vendor boasting about his "hottest dumplings in the land."

-That’s a challenge,- Izuna muttered, dragging his niece over.

-Uncle, I don’t think this is a good idea.

-Your lack of faith disappoints me.

…Izuna immediately regretted his life choices. His niece fared slightly better but still had tears in her eyes. They both swore never to speak of this again.

Riding a makeshift sled down a dangerously steep hill

-This is a bad idea,- his niece whispered as they positioned themselves on a wooden plank.

-The best ideas usually are,- Izuna countered, pushing off.

It was all fun and games until they hit a bump and launched into the air, landing in a muddy pond.

-That was awesome!- she cheered.

-…Don’t tell Grandpa Madara,- Izuna wheezed from the ground.

Madara Regrets Everything

He returns early. Not because he trusts Izuna—precisely the opposite.

He knows his brother, knows that the longer he is left unsupervised, the higher the chance something catastrophic will happen.

By the time he is back, Izuna and his granddaughter are sitting in the yard, covered in mud, scratches, and suspiciously singed clothing.

A nearby tree is still smoldering.

Madara takes one long, slow inhale, rubbing his temples.

-What. Happened.

Izuna tilts his head. -That’s… a broad question Aniki.-

His granddaughter pipes up. -We fought a rooster, set a tree on fire, tried summoning a toad, and!—

-STOP.- Madara’s eye twitches. He turns to Izuna. -I trusted you with one thing. One.-

-And I kept her alive!- Izuna gestures to the small child, who is grinning. -Look at her! She had the time of her life!-

Madara’s granddaughter nods eagerly. -We did so many cool things, Grandpa!-

Madara exhales sharply, looking like he is seriously considering murder.

Izuna leans over to his niece. -Next time, we’ll find an even bigger tree.-

She gasps. -Really?-

-There won’t be a next time.- Madara’s voice is final.

Izuna smirks. -That’s what you think.-

[we-stan-cale]

Since I've talked about almost all the other important parts during my reread, I didn't want to forget the sealed god's test.

It's just... So good I'm not even sure where to start. Like, this is a moment where Cale really shines.

Cale. Rok Soo, which we're told means 'to always grow green, even in winter'.

And we see that in this test.

The sealed god throws him into one of the worst moments of his life, expressly to make him despair.

Instead, Cale takes that moment and uses it to rewrite the past, and erase all his regrets.

This is where we really get to see what post-apocalyptic Korea was like. And over and over again we learn how badly things went then, even as Cale makes sure it doesn't happen like that again.

We also see some of his years of experience, and maturity. Especially with how he handles Park Jin Tae, who was a bully and a tyrant - and also died in Cale's first life, fighting to save everyone in the shelter.

You can see what we've seen all along. Cale doesn't judge leaders by the petty stuff. He judges them on how well they take care of their people.

This is also where Cale, Choi Han, and Alberu really become an amazing trio.

Choi Han, who bargains a large chunk of his life away (just the time he'd be alone, as he ties the length of his life to Raons) in order to join Cale in his test.

And Alberu, who the Sun God helps possess a monster called the Dark Tiger when his real body is sleeping.

Those three are so tight knit now, it's beautiful. Real ride or die friends.

Especially when you remember where they all started.

It's also, as always, a time where you have to pay attention to the subtleties. This is Cale's past, and he's focused on making sure everyone survives... But Choi Han and especially Alberu can see the desperation, the struggle, and the near starvation of all the survivors. Alberu has a couple of moments when he's out of the test and giving updates to their friends, and you see him struggling. Because Cale asked him not to overly stress them (the kids especially) and basically say it's fine... And Alberu's like 'how can I tell them that?!?'

And then, naturally, there's Choi Jung Soo and Lee Soo Hyuk.

Younger versions, and not the ones Cale knew. But still, we get to learn more about his earlier found family.

We also see things going on back at home. Since his physical body is still there, his friends have to rescue him.

And we see how they're able to perform, even without Cale to call the shots.

We especially see how well Raon has grown, as he makes important decisions on how to find the monster statues.

Even more importantly, we have this at the end.

– Do you really think that this moment is the end of despair? Cale looked down at the rose gold lights burning in his hands. He opened his mouth to speak. ‘Is this moment the end of despair? No. Absolutely not.’ “This is just the beginning of the despair in this world.” It was just the beginning. Despair would reveal itself in many different forms in this world from now on. “But people have hope now.” After about a year since the world had turned into a mess… The people who had always lost, struggled, and barely managed to survive will be victorious for the first time. They would destroy this despair known as an unranked monster. The sealed god who had been silent for a moment asked as if he was sneering at Cale. – Do you have hope as well? It seemed to be implying that Cale was someone who could not have hope. That was how it sounded to Cale. Cale slowly shook his head. “No.” He did not have hope. However… “I have certainty.” Cale needed something more certain than hope. Finally, he had gotten it. “This place will draw a different future than my past. I’m certain of it.” He was certain that more people would survive than in his past. He was certain that they would have better lives. That was not speculation. Although it was a future that was yet to come, Cale believed it to be the truth. In fact, Cale wanted to be the one to finish the first step toward that certainty. The burning rose gold thunderbolts moved away from Cale’s hands. He started to speak again. “This is the first time I’m saying this to a god.” Toward the silent sealed god… To the god who had tried to give him despair… Cale said the following. “Thanks.” He really meant it. “My memories didn’t end in despair thanks to you.”

It's not that he defeated despair. That despair will no longer exist.

But there's hope, and he is certain that the future will be better.

And even more so - he is grateful that he had this chance to change his memories.

He took this thing that was supposed to break him, and used it to fix himself instead.

[buddierecs]

jealous!eddie diaz buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

hold the line (to my heart) by: erotes "eddie diaz is not jealous. it is entirely normal to be annoyed that his best friend is busy flirting in the middle of a crisis. obviously." word count: 7k important tags: 911 lone star characters, oblivous!eddie diaz, getting together counting pulses by: tinyydancerr "eddie diaz’s life is going great. he’s in therapy, he’s got a great girlfriend, a great kid, his friend is getting married to the woman of his dreams, and his best friend just came out to him. now his best friend is dating their new friend. things are going great. he promises." word count: 63k important tags: buck/tommy, eddie diaz has ocd, catholic guilt, pining, buckley-diaz family, co-parenting, slow burn hey now, hey now by: fallingthorns "after returning to the 118, eddie becomes a full-time paramedic and ravi becomes buck's partner. eddie absolutely doesn't feel anything about that, not at all." word count: 10k important tags: 5+1 things, fluff, pining, humour, getting together, love confessions i used to call you my best friend (way back before you were my everything) by: snowyroads "in which eddie is so in love with his best friend but that’s totally normal. oh, and hen’s tired of his shit." word count: 5.3k important tags: sexuality crisis, pining, fluff, getting together, sexual tension my heart aches with love for you by: farfromthstars "eddie and marisol run into buck and tommy on a date. eddie is not jealous." word count: 1.7k important tags: feelings realisation, pre-relationship, pining advice wanted by: cairparavels "eddie diaz takes to reddit to figure out why he hates his best friend’s new boyfriend so much." word count: 8k important tags: social media, reddit, misunderstandings, tommy kinard bashing, idiots in love, fluff, angst, humour, mutual pining, getting together good luck, babe by: hattalove "sometimes, when you've had a bad week, all you want is a romantic evening out with your wife over terrible pizza, and what you get instead is some kind of intricate gay ritual happening two tables away from you." word count: 2.1k important tags: outsider pov, social media, twitter you're the one by: smilingbuckley "chimney pretends to be buck’s boyfriend to get a guy to back off. eddie doesn't like it." word count: 2.5k important tags: crack, fake dating, platonic kissing, pre-relationship, first kiss, love confessions, fluff, angst tryna find my way back to you (cause i'm needing a little bit of love) by: mumucow_xD "when buck joins the 126 team for a whole month and eddie didn't expect it to awake something in him" word count: 45k important tags: whump, minor angst, feelings realisation, drunken confessions pining from the passenger seat by: orphan_account "eddie pines from the passenger seat" word count: 5.4k important tags: pining, soft!buddie, getting together, first kiss baby i can ease the ache (let me give your heart a break) by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck wants to date natalia, eddie wants to die, chimney and maddie are very good at motivational speeches and buck is not as oblivious as people make him out to be." word count: 4.6k important tags: possessive!eddie diaz, first kiss, love confessions, getting together plus or minus by: elvensorceress "taylor is offered a job across the country and asks buck to go with her. buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is." word count: 10k important tags: idiots in love, oblivious, getting together, soft!buddie, love confessions, mutual pining waiting on a distant feeling by: justhockey "five times eddie thought he was homophobic, and the one time he realised he was just jealous." word count: 5.9k important tags: 5+1 things, idiots in love, getting together, oblivious!eddie diaz, mutual pining, fluff, angst

[ser3nityst4r]

Leona’s Backstory

Leona was born with a rock in his heart, a heavy burden stemming not from birth defects or physical limitations, but from the simple fact that he was not the firstborn. Born second, he was destined for the role of the shadow, eternally eclipsed by his brother, Farena, the First Prince. 

The whispers of the palace servants followed him like a shroud: "The First Prince Farena is so cheerful...," they would sigh, "It's a pity his younger brother Prince Leona is so difficult..."

Leona wasn't difficult; he simply couldn't understand the world's obsession with firsts. Why was it that Farena, a prince who spent his days napping and lazing about, was showered with love and adoration while Leona, who toiled endlessly at his studies and honed his magic, was met with indifference?

The servants would continue, "And he uses magic that turns everything he touches into sand... How frightening!"

Leona would hear these whispers, and his heart would clench. He knew his magic was powerful, perhaps even more potent than Farena's, but his control over it was still fragile, prone to bursts of uncontrolled energy that manifested as sand. He hated the fear in their words, the judgment that clung to him like a shadow.

"If I were the First Prince," he would mutter to himself, "I'm sure they would say things like, 'The First Prince Leona is so prudent and can use such strong magic. He's completely different from his carefree younger brother.'"

But the reality was stark. He was the Second Prince, and the whispers followed him: "Everything the second prince does is sloppy, and the First Prince is left to clean up after him."

The chasm between them widened with each passing day. Leona witnessed the adoration Farena received during his formal introduction to the kingdom, a ceremony of pomp and celebration. He wasn't even invited. He watched from the shadows, his heart a burning ember.

"Leona, why did you skip the ceremony?" Farena asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Ceremony?" Leona retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, the doting parent party you hosted so you could show your son off? How rude of me. I ended up going back to sleep."

"Today's an important day for our people to see their future king," Farena said, his tone turning serious.

"It's a day to celebrate indeed," Leona sneered, his voice heavy with bitterness. "It's the day that their loathed second prince lost his right to the throne."

"Stop talking like that!" Farena snapped.

"People who were born first sure are special, huh?" Leona continued, his voice rising. "You can become king even though all you do is lie around and sleep all day."

"Leona... Even though you can't become king, you are very smart," Farena said, trying to soothe his brother's wounded pride. "There are so many things you can still do for this kingdom."

"I would have done what I could if this kingdom really needed someone smart," Leona said, his voice hollow.

"Leona, stop right there!" Farena protested, his voice rising. "Leona!"

The rock in Leona's heart grew heavier. He couldn't understand why he was born second, why he was destined to live in Farena's shadow. He had strived to be better, to perfect his magic, to prove his worth, but no matter what he did, his efforts seemed futile.

"Why did I have to go through all of that just because I was born a few years younger?" he cried out, his voice echoing in the empty corridors of the palace. "No matter how hard I studied, no matter how much I perfected my magic... From the day I was born until the day I die, my brother will always be looked up to, and I can never be king. Why was I born second? Why can I never become number one...? Why? Why? Why?!"

His voice cracked, his heart shattered. He slumped to the floor, tears streaming down his face.

"Life is unfair," he whispered, his voice lost in the vast emptiness of the palace, a testament to the unspoken pain of a second-born son, a shadow forever condemned to walk in the light of his brother.

[usanyan]

10th floor, ceo!sungchan x reader

! blowjob, sir kink?

you arrange your shirt nervously, your leg bouncing on the wooden floor. you really need that job. you already went through two interviews, but the company you applied is quite luxurious, and after meeting managers and the head of the human ressources, you were urged to meet the ceo. you heard he was the one actually making decisions for the workers, and he's the last wall between you and that very important job.

even though you know the famous company by name, you never heard of jung sungchan. the young owner inherited everything from his father after his passing, making a huge difference in the harsh business environment due to his age. the company never flourished this well since sungchan's new ceo position. all you could recall from the words of the managers is that he's great at making people fall for him and his traps to make his wealth grow bigger.

your appointment with sungchan is planned in less than 10 minutes. you're early, and now the time seems like it's ticking slowly enough for you to die at least twice on the chair. the corridor that's connected to sungchan's office is quiet and you could only hear your -almost- steady breathing and the faint voice of a man on the other side of the door.

your eyes travel the papers in your hands, the review letters from your past interviews, you read the positive sentences over and over again. you believe in yourself for this job. you almost jump from the chair when you hear the doorknob then the door open. your eyes meet jung sungchan's, and you immediately get what the workers you met meant when they told you the ceo makes all the heads spin.

he's much taller than you expected, an annoyingly pretty face with serious yet soft eyes, a faint smile making him look even sweeter. sungchan steps out of his office and stands in front of you. you immediately get up from the chair.

"i think we have a little interview together, right?"

"yes... sir... i'm here for the job."

"i heard about you, the managers gave me great feedbacks. you're quite a pretty thing."

the words get stuck in your throat, your eyes flutter and sungchan chuckles at your reaction. he opens the door and invites you inside, closing it safely behind you. you stand up awkwardly in the office as sungchan sits down on his luxurious chair and sighs. he shifts himself on the soft material of the chair, and point the seat in front of his desk with his head.

"sit down."

sungchan doesn't need to ask you twice. you sit down and put in front of him the review letters from the different staffs. the silence feels awkward to you, your eyes travel around the room everywhere but in front of you to avoid the ceo's gaze. sungchan is focused on you, massaging his large hands. finally the silence is broken by his voice, and you dare to look at him again. sungchan had opened his tight shirt a little and loosened his tie, and is now looking right at you with a much more serious stare.

"tell me pretty, how much do you need that job?"

you take a moment to think about what to answer. the switch of behavior of the tall man makes you grow more nervous and your face feels hot. you should tell him the truth but won't you sound too desperate?

"answer me when i ask a question."

"i really.... really need that job sir... i have been wanting to work there for so long, i really want it."

"much better when you reply like that. come stand here, pretty."

you take a deep breath and stand up. sungchan's gaze is almost burning you, you can feel it from the tip of your fingers to your chest and face, down your thighs... the ceo sits back in his chair, his legs comfortably parted.

"i think we can help each other out, hm? your pretty face helps me with my problem and i'm sure i can find a nice place for you in the company."

"...excuse me..?"

"don't do that pretty... show some interest in what your boss is asking you..."

sungchan's tone drips like honey into your ears. one of his hand rubs his thigh slowly while he rests his chin on the other one with his gaze so heavy on you. each step you take closer to him make the bulge straining his pants grow larger. sungchan scoffs at your slow moves, his hand rubbing himself over his clothes.

"you know... being such an important person is so much stress... i'm sure you can help out, right? you must do everything i say if you want to work for me, hm."

you slowly drop on your knees in front of him, your hands on his thighs and your face so close to the throbbing bulge. sungchan's smirk grow wider, his hands unbuckling his belt but not opening his pants. he trails his finger down your jaw and hold your chin with the tip of it.

"tell me pretty... want to help the boss out?"

"...yes."

sungchan's smile drops and his voice gets lower.

"yes who?"

"yes sir."

"good."

you nervously let your hands travel sungchan's thighs, earning a low sigh from him. you unbutton his pants, opening it enough to show his strained underwear, the hot bulge twitching under your fingers. you press your palm between sungchan's legs and he groans at your touch, one of his hand finding its place in your hair.

you lick your lips and finally tug on sungchan's underwear slowly, you free his hard cock that stands proudly in front of your face. you caress the veiny length experimentally, and sungchan put his hand around yours to make you hold his dick, making you pump him a little.

he holds the base of his cock with both yours and his hand, he pushes the leaking and red tip on your lips eagerly. you give a lick on the slit as more precum drips on your tongue, and sungchan finally lets go of your hand. he rests himself on his chair, fingers tangled into your hair. when you finally take him into your mouth, a low moan escapes from his throat.

"j-just like that pretty..."

encouraged by his words, you take him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length and tracing the veins. sungchan gets more noisy, breathy groans coming out of his parted lips. his closed eyes open to look at you when you bob your head and take your time on the head of his cock. more praises fall from his tongue and his fingers tug on your hair to bring you closer.

you cough around his dick. you take him away from your mouth and jerk him off, putting all your attention on his throbbing tip that seems ready to explode any minute. you push your thumb on the slit and coat the head of his cock with the sticky fluid. more impatient to find his place back into your hot mouth, sungchan push on your head until his cock hits your face. you open your lips and let him inside, his tip hitting far into your throat as sungchan tug on your hair a little more harshly.

"fuck... keep going..."

the ceo's hips buck into your mouth pushing him deeper inside. you almost gag around him and hold the base of his dick in your hand, rubbing it quickly while you drag your tongue up and down. the way sungchan's groans grow louder and heavier make you speed up, you look up to meet his half opened eyes. his chest heaves to a fast yet steady rhythm, his unbuttoned shirt showing his glistening chest.

you suck on his tip and you feel sungchan's grip on your hair tighten, his two hands holding your head in place while he pushes his hips into you face. you can feel drool dripping from your chin mixed with his cum that erupts into your throat. you move your head slowly to make sure you don't miss a single drop of his bitter fluid before letting go of his now softening dick.

you lick your lips and you feel sungchan's thumb rub on your chin gently, wiping away the spit that coats your skin. sungchan grabs your cheeks and drag you up until you're close of his face. he meets your lips in a sweet kiss, mixed with the taste of his cum. the ceo releases you from his grip and puts back his clothes, buttoning his pants and tucking his shirt back inside.

"so good to me... you did so well pretty."

you sit back on the other side of the desk and sungchan takes the papers that you dropped in front of him. he quickly go through the praises and good reviews from his workers with a smile, looking at you from behind the letters.

"i guess i have a new coworker. you did such a good job. but i expect much more from you starting from today, understood?"

"yes sir."

sungchan work that gets released before eunseok work sorry.... got inspired by the riize court and someone's request, please enjoy :3 eunseok is next, then wonbin!

[highfantasy-soul]

So Vel's monologue in s2e6 is to me what Luthen's monologue in s1 was to seemingly everyone else.

I rolled my eyes through Luthen's monologue where he aggrandized himself and made himself out to be the most specialist, put upon, sacrificial martyr who has ever existed (while talking to an actual spy who has to pretend to be a high ranking Imperial every second of every day of his life). "I burn my life for a sunrise I'll never see" sounds cool, but what the fuck does that actually mean? What is he really doing and is it justified or does he just use that excuse to shunt any responsibility or accountability for his shitty actions? Making sure no one can question him because he's 'actually the one sacrificing things, so just do as I say'?

His big 'call to action' for Lonnie was "I'm actually sacrificing way more than you are, so suck it up". I repeat: he's saying this to an actual spy who has to pretend to be an Imp every second of every day of his life while Luthen can put on disguises at will and relax in his shop with people who know him and he can talk freely to about what he's doing - all things Lonnie 100% cannot ever do. [Luthen really reminded me of Cody Walsh for D20s Unsleeping City 2 and all the edge-lord guys like that who think they're just so cool and 'walk the darker path other's can't handle' [cue the wind machine though a trench coat and dyed black hair fluttering in front of an anime boy's scarred face]]

Vel's was so much more impactful to me because she didn't make it about herself, she didn't even make it about the cause. She made it about what's important: people and how they treat each other. The real, present, cost that has just been paid not in some grandiose way, but will impact the person forever. She was right there risking her life for a bunch of people she didn't know. She was boots on the ground with someone she loved, helping the Ghor because they both believe so much in aiding those fighting oppression, they took the risk. And because of it, Cinta was killed - not by the Empire, but by the very people they were out to help. But Vel doesn't make herself the victim - she empowers the new Rebel to go forward and take action even without her direct guidance.

"I'm not going to say 'remember this', because I don't have to. This is on you now. This is like skin. You're taking her with you wherever you go for the rest of your useless life."

This is the cost that he now knows not just in theory, but in reality. It's not a mistake one walks away clean from - he will take this with him and the seasoned veteran confirms it for him. She doesn't need to be there to remind him of it and hold it over him - he'll do that himself.

"She was a warrior. She is everything you have daydreamed about."

The Ghorman rebel /wants/ to do good. He fucked up and he knows it. They are inexperienced and refused to listen to the advice of those who have done it before - they thought they knew best and that they were the big bad revolutionaries. But it was Cinta who was the warrior, not them. All they did was daydream until that night.

"She was a blooded, fearless warrior who's loss will be mourned in ways you will never understand. She was a miracle. And you? to die like this because of you. Some whining, simpering, foolish child?"

Vel puts him in his place, but doesn't aggrandize herself in this moment - she doesn't even refer to herself at all. It's all about Cinta and the kid who killed her. She's shoving a mirror in his face and making him look into it. She's making sure it's known just how loved and valuable Cinta was and giving him a reality check about how much growing he has to do.

"Don't you dare cry. You'll make up for this forever."

She doesn't just say 'oh poor me, look at what I just lost' she gives the rebel a call to action. She tells him to dry his tears, face his mistake, and set to making it right. Not because she's sacrificing so much so he's got to as well. But because if he wants to really make a difference, if he really wants to be what he thinks he is, he needs to follow Cinta's example and work every day to make what he thinks he is a reality.

There's such a massive difference between someone who's in the trenches with you - leading you, but also working side by side and risking their lives for you and your people, giving you a tongue lashing for a real mistake you made that cost someone their life and pushing you forward to atone for it (Vel) and someone ordering you into extremely dangerous situations from the safety and comfort of a city penthouse and after years of valuable service, when you ask to leave and take a safer job for you and your family, they decide you're too valuable to THEM and try to make themselves the victim to guilt you into continuing to follow their orders (Luthen).

Vel didn't tell the Ghor rebel that he was going to have to serve under her leadership for the rest of his life in order to make up for it - she empowered him to take it upon himself to make up for it in whatever way he could. She didn't push him to do it for herself, she did it for Cinta, for the Ghor, for the galaxy, but really, for the rebel himself. She put aside her own ego to push someone to keep going after a terrible mistake and to become the person he wanted to be in spite of his current self without her having to stand over him to make sure he was still following through.

I wish people gave the other characters their roses instead of just focusing on Luthen and his shitty, shitty 'leadership' style. They're buying Luthen's crap - the crap that says 'this is the only appropriate way to run a rebellion, I'm the only smart one, the only one who's strong enough to do what needs to be done, the only one who can handle choosing what to sacrifice - caring about people is WEAK!'

I need more people to call Luthen's methods out (thank you Cassian in ep 6 for telling him off) so I know who I can trust in a real revolution - because let me tell you, I don't trust Luthen for shit and I'd run far, far away from him and those who think like him in a rebellion. Vel though, she's cool. She's got her priorities right.

[tiredfox64]

Okay I have a prompt that’s been stuck in my head for WEEKS and I can never get it right (probably because I’m the one who wrote it) but it’s a Liu Kang prompt, the reader is fem and is VERY OF AGE like late 20’s or something so nothing gross. But it’s “sweetheart, my tattoos are older than you.” RAHHHH RAHHH RAHHH FIRE GOD LIU KANG RUIN ME TO THE DAWN OF TIMEEEEEEEEE

You’re Not That Old

Yip notes: no entienda ʅ（◞‿◟）ʃ

Pairing: Liu Kang (MK1) x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: It's short I'm sorry

Ah late 20s. Time to slow things down and take a step back. You’re not a party animal anymore. You’re not a young adult anymore for some odd reason even though your late 20s are not at all old. Really, you got a long way before death comes and takes you naturally. Death’s eyes are not on you so why are you still complaining?

“Ugh! I’m so freaking old.” You whined.

Your boyfriend looked at you with this somewhat disappointed look. Or he might have been judging you. It’s hard to tell with those godly light eyes. His arms folded before he began speaking.

“Old? I would hardly call you old. I do not see a single wrinkle on your face that would indicate your age.”

“Yes there is, look.” You pointed to a smile line. Those are natural and could appear at any age. It’s not even that noticeable!

Like the sassy god that Liu Kang is he rolled his eyes at your display of sorrow. It’s unnecessary. You’re still as young as a blooming flower yet here you are acting like you’re sixty. Shoot, even Liu Kang would consider sixty young since not many naturally die at that age.

Could he really judge fairly though? He is a god who has lived for eons. He has seen life created and life succumb to death. He has seen it in all eras at all ages. But this isn’t the 1800s when it was impressive to reach thirty without being close to death due to pneumonia. You’re young and full of energy still. You don’t even feel any strain in your joints or have any complaints of back pain. He wouldn’t even say your age is an age of concern when it comes to wanting kids. You’re not on thin ice, the ice is thick and sturdy.

“I believe you are seeing things that are not there.” He reassured you.

“Oh sure, it’s easy for you to say that when you’ve stayed the same age for years,” Eons actually, “There is nothing about you that indicates that you are older than me.”

That’s when Liu Kang got closer to you. You were still looking at yourself in your vanity mirror before you saw his hand come closer to you. He gently placed his hand below your chin before guiding your face to look at him. He tilted your head up and you saw how he looked down at you. You could already tell by that smug grin of his that he was about to prove you wrong.

“Sweetheart, my tattoos are older than you.” He said in a low, husky voice.

…

He’s…not wrong. You were proven wrong.

Liu Kang has had those tattoos ever since he became a god back in his original timeline. It just seemed to be an aspect of being a god. Those tattoos may be younger than him, but they are older than you.

If you haven’t already noticed those glorious dragon tattoos even though you have been with Liu Kang for a long time he will help you notice. They began glowing like they usually would when he uses his fire powers except he was holding back. He can’t burn that pretty face of yours. The light blue light radiated and caught your eye. Then your attention was brought right back to Liu Kang’s face once you felt his thumb lightly caress your face.

“See? I told you that you are not old.” He said before he leaned down and gave you a kiss.

He let go of your face before walking off to do some important duties. Probably to train the others or have a word with the Lin Kuei’s grandmaster about an upcoming mission. I don’t know, you don’t care. You’re just stunned by what he said.

1: God just called you sweetheart.

2: That was so smooth and you don’t understand why.

It might have been the face grab. It might have been his voice. It might be because he made his tattoos glow in that moment so you could get the point.

Whatever it was, thank goodness it worked. It made you forget about how old—I mean young you are!

Yap notes: I'm genuinely sorry if this is not what you wanted, I read the prompt so many times and I just think I wasn't the right woman for the job. I think this is more on me and something not going correctly in my brain. Once again I'm sorry if this is not what you wanted I hope someone else will be able to get it right for you.

[brawlqueen]

[ please tell me you're going to decline his offer. ]

[ n-no! i can't. i mean - he offered so . . . ! ]

[ that is not what i mean mizuki ! to you this is a challenge. ]

[ h-hey don't put it like that ! he's being nice, aiba! ]

mizuki could handle a lot of things, from falling from the stratosphere and landing unharmed; to dodging bullets like they were slow motion wrapped up pieces of paper. hell, while the opportunity hadn't arisen, lifting a car wouldn't even be a half a trouble. her courage and endurance for both pain in every aspect and the throes of terror had made her age far, far beyond her means. strengthened her not just in the downright supernatural of physical combat and endurance, but as a person most importantly, in the end, it was her heart that made her strong, she was only human . . .

and here she was, months after helping a global threat be quelled and blinking down at something her nostrils found both painful and tantalizing. it didn't help ignacio was smiling. she didn't even know his name really, but it wasn't a lie, that she wanted to try out something that clearly put such a smile on his face. she didn't even know exactly where he came from, but could hazard fairly accurate guesses.

" thanks... to be honest in japan, sure we try hot sauces and spicy things, but it isn't the norm, you know? more mild foods. that's why i came over. i like other cultures and wanna not be ignorant to stuff people like. so i wanna know. " my nostrils already feel like they're tickled by some hot air fan or something. . .

[ i told you! ]

" but that's...not the weird question. this probably won't make any sense and i can't really explain why, but do you mind if.....i remove my artificial eye? i'm blind in my left eye save for appearances. i just uh, like yellow. i don't - " what, want aiba to somehow feel all my neurons and nervous system go into overshock if i can't stomach his food? damn, i really can't back down from this. but i wanna know what it tastes like!

" i understand that's...a bit graphic. not that i know what kind of things you've seen. but i can uh, turn my face? i don't wanna weird you out. just...trust me that it's best i take it out. " if it's as hot as my gut is screaming at me to not find out, then even aiba's gonna be feeling what i feel.

"They're chiles rellenos. I like them, the chile I'm using is a little bit spicy, but I absolutely love their spiciness."

This is a warning.

This man is saying this dish is a bit spicy. That even he would call it spicy should be a sign not to take it, to politely refuse and save your stomach. Proceed with caution.