#(its there)

[cowboygenes]

Explosive Triad Shenanigans

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Kidnapped Astarion

I have a very specific thing I can't stop thinking about. That involves Astarion getting kidnapped by Cazador for the ritual and him taunting him over the lie that Tav gave him away. Sold him even.

Tw: Lies, manipulation, mentions of torture, bad times had all around, it's long as fuck, betrayal (or at least the lie of it). Like Cazador is involved so all bad. Very bad. This also has VIOLENCE. Like canon game violence but it is BLOODY. You've been warned. Also happy ending :)

So now let's get to that angst:

It had all happened so fast.

One moment Astarion was laid back in the tent you share, reading a mediocre book as he impatiently waited for your return. He loathed when you went out without him, even if it was for good reason. He wasn't exactly welcome company when it came to solving Gale's problems, especially when it came to the bomb nestled in chest. You both knew his inability to keep his sarcastic quips to himself would not be an asset while exploring a sacred library. Besides, he didn't have much room to complain, not when he accompanied you on ninety-nine percent of your outings.

But that didn't mean he had to like it. Even if it was shaping up to be a nice, uneventful evening. He had set your tent a little farther away from the others, considering the complaints that some....well most had made about the volume of your nightly activities. It was quiet, peaceful even. The atmosphere tranquil enough for him to fully relax.

What a mistake that had been.

When the flap of the tent opened he didn't even look up, fully expecting it to be Shadowheart or Lae'zel coming round to dig about in his darling's things. It made sense, considering how it was one of the few times they wouldn't be risking walking in on something. You had such a bad habit with that "open door" policy of yours. One that had exposed nearly every party member to quite the show. Though in Astarion's view, they were just unreasonable. When you were both loud they complained. When you were quiet and they walked in on it they would whine even more. How could you win with people like that?

Perhaps a sign on the door would have done the trick, but Astarion would be lying if he didn't enjoy the others being fully aware of who could make you cry and moan. The risk was just more thrilling, if not the slightest bit annoying.

But the intruder was staying still at the opening, quiet as could be. It was odd enough to have Astarion glancing upward, his heart stopping in his chest at what he saw.

It was a man, frantically muttering something under his breath. A man that he recognized. The idiotic Petras, trying to cast some kind of incantation. It had Astarion scrambling upward, reaching for his dagger. But it was already too late. The spell was finished and Astarion could feel his senses start to fade away, one by one.

He had gotten sloppy, relying on the safety of camp that had never existed. And now he was paying the price, and what a price to pay. Even as he fell to the magic, one feeling managed to stay in place until the bitter end.

Terror.

And then, he felt nothing at all.

The next thing Astarion knew he was being awakened by a slap of cold water to his face, blinking up into horrifyingly familiar light. He immediately recognized where he was. The torture room, his arms hanging from the ceiling, his toes barely scraping the floor. It hurt to be suspended like this, a pain he was still so familiar with despite going months without. And in front of him was the cause of it all, sneering at him like the maniac he was.

Cazador.

"You're finally awake," He grinned, dropping the bucket that was in his hands, "You've been a very bad boy Astarion. Just what am I to do with you?"

Astarion wanted to answer, to curse at him, maybe even beg to just be left alone, but nothing came out. He was too stunned, too stupefied that he ended up here after everything he'd gone through. Everything you'd gone through. How could it end like this?

"I don't fully know what you were up to with all that time away from your family," Cazador continued, stepping close enough for Astarion to feel his disgusting breath on his skin, "But I think I may have the gist. Galivanting around with your merry-band of degenerates. Seems fitting."

Astarion gave a full-bodied flinch when Cazador started to graze along his collarbones with a gentle finger, his touch freezing and revolting. The gentleness wouldn't last, Astarion was surprised it was even there to begin with.

He should have realized there was a reason for it.

He trailed up his neck, stopping to trace a bruise you had left the night before. If only he had known that it was almost certainly the last time he would get to touch you. The realization was nearly enough to bring tears to Astarion's eyes, but he refused to cry in front of this creature, not if he could help it.

"Seems like you may have even found yourself a favorite amongst them. Tell me pet, who was it?"

"Fuck you." Astarion spat out, his fury managing to shine through his despair.

Astarion expected a hard slap for the insolence, but instead Cazador just laughed, loud and full-bellied, "You've gotten quite the temper since you've been away, haven't you? I wonder where that came about?"

It was a false question, Astarion could tell from the way his eyes were crinkled. Like a child excited to reveal a surprise. Cazador answered it for himself, "Is it that lovely little thing that you've been following around. Gods, what's their name again...Tav, is it?"

"Don't you dare say her name," Astarion growled, his righteous fury overcoming the ever-growing terror and dread, "They have nothing to do with this!"

"Oh but they do," Cazador grinned, stepping back to do one of his famous gloating sessions, "Just how do you think I found you? Luck? No my dear, you were given."

Astarion's answer was as immediate as it was hateful, "You're lying! You know nothing of them. Nothing of us."

He won't believe it, he has no reason to. You...you loved him. And you were probably looking for him as they spoke. You would never betray anyone like this, least of all him.

But Cazador remained unphased. If anything he was looking at him with pity, "Oh you poor thing. You think she cares? You think she loves you? I'm disappointed Astarion, it seems you've learned nothing from our time together. What is there to love, hm? Nothing that I can see. Though...they sure did seem to love the gold. You fetch quite the high price my dear. But it will be worth it."

Lies. It was all lies. It had to be. Astarion shoved his uncertainty back down, bellowing out, "Liar!"

It was forceful enough to even make Cazador falter for the briefest of moments, a split second that anyone else would have missed. But he pressed on, shaking his head, "Darling, don't you find it strange that you were all alone that day? That no one came to your aid? Where do you think you're love was, hm? Wait, don't tell me. I can remember...ah yes! With Gale, correct?"

Astarion swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. How...how did he know that?

"It was a fabulous excuse, was it not?" Cazador continued with a laugh, "We came up with that one together. After a little fun that is. I can see why you fell for their treachery Astarion, they are quite lovely, aren't they?"

No. No, no, no.

"Stop it," Astarion hissed, "Shut your mouth. I-It's not true."

"Oh but it is. I'm not sure if you're aware but you're quite the headache darling, not many can handle it. Not including myself. She even told me of that hilarious speech you gave. About wanting something real. It was just as funny to her as it was to me."

Astarion stared at him, at a complete loss for words. It couldn't be true. It couldn't. But...how else would he know that? In a camp full of people why did no one come to his aid? But the cruelty of it all...it was exactly the type of thing Cazador was versed in.

Setting up the same type of trap that he'd trained Astarion for, that he had used on others countless times. And he fell for it, he lost the game he thought he'd mastered.

His faith was slipping, hard and fast when he asked the horrible question, "How do you know that?"

"Because I sent them to you," He said with that disgusting grin, "It was no coincidence that you met. You were kidnapped, I needed you back, so I hired some help. It's a pity that they were captured as well. The pause to our plans was quite inconvenient. Our Tav just can't help but get distracted, can she?"

"No..." The word slipped out of Astarion without his consent, his mind racing. That couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. T-There had to be another explanation. If he could just think he'd find it. But...what point was there? He was already captured, taken. If anything, all of this being a grand scheme from Cazador was more logical than someone loving him.

He had gone through many, many tortures during his time here. Unspeakable, horrible things that he would never wish on anyone, excluding the man in front of him. But this...this was the worst thing he'd ever done to him. He had tricked him, you had tricked him, and he whole-heartedly fell for it, like the fool he was. The fool he would die as.

He didn't know it was possible, but this would be the greatest pain he ever knew. He was sure of that. Cazador had managed to do it. He had broken him, finally.

His tears were falling on their own accord, plentiful and pathetic. Cazador cooed at him, tracing his cheek with his horrid hand, "It hurts, doesn't it? I missed that expression on you my boy. You were always at you're prettiest when you had given up."

He wiped Astarion's tears away, gently holding his face as he spoke, "If only this was enough. The things I want to do to you for running away... I want to make you scream, make you beg for death. Just like how things used to be. If only we had the time."

Cazador let go, stepping back with a sigh, "How I wish that they had gotten you to me earlier. Though it's too late to pout about it now, the preparations are almost complete. But don't fret my boy, your end will have the meaning that your life failed to posses. Come along now."

Astarion hung there, limp as Cazador unhooked him from above. This was it. He was going to die here, as nothing but a pawn. He didn't even try to fight it when he was led down, deep into the palace to a place he'd never known existed. He kept his eyes closed for most of the journey, simply for the fact that he didn't have the strength to keep them open.

It was...a horrendous feeling to be incased in that red energy, floating in the air with all of his brothers and sisters as Cazador finished his preparations. It forced his eyes open against his will, making him see the hell that had been hiding beneath his feet all these years. He had been wrong about the sacrifice it seemed, it wasn't just them. There were thousands of bodies, barely alive in hanging cages, strewn throughout the place.

It was horrible, but fitting. Where else would something like him die? All he wished was that Cazador would hurry, so he could be done with it all. He has to much time to think in these last moments, too much time to examine your betrayal.

He...hates you. For it all. He hates you more than anything, enough for that same fury to come bubbling back to the surface. How dare you do this to him, after everything you'd been through. He should have killed you while you slept, while you let him drink from your throat. He should have killed them all, the vile sacks of shit.

If his soul ever found it's way back from the hell it was about to be damned too, he'd find you. His revenge was no longer reserved for Cazador, but for the wretched bitch hat tortured him in ways he didn't even think were possible. He'd do worse to you than anyone could imagine.

You were the cruelest thing to ever exist, as heartless and horrid as the monster before him.

So why was he still crying over it?

It didn't matter anyway. Not now. Now, all he could do was wait for the bitter end.

But then...he felt something. A familiar presence tickling the back of his mind. A barely there whisper, no words that he could make out. But it was getting stronger. Clearer.

It...it was you. Calling out to him with your illithid connection, begging for an answer.

My love, where are you? Astarion please, please tell me your there. Help me find you.

He can scarcely believe it. But he wasn't going to wait for his emotions to catch up to what could be an escape. He was screaming in his brain, trying to send out any signal that he could.

I'm here. I'm here. Don't let him take me. Please.

He could hear you in his head, the sheer relief from your mind nearly overwhelming, I'm coming. Hold on, I'm coming.

Astarion didn't even have the time to doubt. Because the next moment you were bursting through the ornate doors, nearly your entire team in tow.

Astarion had never seen you look the way you did then. He was so used to your kindness, the warmth and light that you tried to spread everywhere you went. You were always smiling, always laughing, always trying to share the same with others.

But now you were breathing hard, near feral in your posture as your eyes darted around, landing straight to the shocked Cazador. You looked murderous, vicious enough to send a shiver down Astarion's spine. Your teeth were bared, your whole body trembling with rage as you started to advance, weapons already drawn.

And in that moment Astarion was sure that you were the most gorgeous, perfect thing he had ever seen. Or ever would.

It was brutal, bloody battle. One that ended with you slitting Cazador's throat as Astarion watched in awe. You let the body fall to the ground, blasé before you finally ran to him, releasing him from his prison.

Then he was being pulled into the most crushing hug of his entire life. One that he was helpless to return. He clung to you, uncaring for their rather large audience.

He was too busy burying his face into your hair, breathing you in as you whispered into his shoulder, "Thank the Gods that you're still here."

The pain in your voice was so raw, so real. Astarion needed no other evidence to be sure that every word from the dead man's lips had been a lie. He was also positive that he had never cried this much in his life, but now it was a different kind of sob he was trying to choke back. The flood of relief was crushing, the truth that your love was real was nearly enough to destroy him all over again. Not for cruelties sake, but to make something new. To kill every last doubt he had that he was nothing, worthless. How could he be when you were here? When you came for him?

He pulled back reluctantly, smiling down at you with tear tracks on his face. He kissed your forehead, covered in sweat and blood, and gods knows what else.

It was all finally over. You both turned to the rest of the group, your hands clasped together as you made your way to where Cazador lay dead. It was satisfying to see, but such a shame that Astation wasn't the one to do the deed. A regret he'd have for the rest of his days.

Or so he thought.

But then you were turning to Shadowheart, your sweet face curling back into the disgust from earlier when you ordered, "Revive him."

Astarion watched, wide-eyed as she did what she was told. Cazador came back into consciousness, in what looked to be an extremely unpleasant experience. He was coughing blood, the spell doing just enough to mend his mortal wounds, but not nearly powerful enough to give him a fraction of his strength back. He stared upwards, his eyes wide at the sight of you lording over him.

And for the first time in two hundred years, Astarion saw fear in the other man's eyes. Wonderfully delicious fear.

He felt you squeeze his hand as he stared at him, speaking quietly, "He's yours. To do with what you please. Do...do you want us here for this?"

He could hear the hidden meaning in your words. This wasn't just a choice of what to do with him. It was a choice of what to do with them all. He had taken notice that he was the only one that you had freed, his brethren still suspended in air.

He turned to you, his voice strong for the first time since he'd come back to this pit, "I want you here for this."

You nodded before looking back to the others to tell them to wait outside. They did so reluctantly, obviously without confidence in his decision making abilities. He ignored the especially worried look Karlach sent his way, too focused on the piece of vampiric trash in front of him.

Cazador was still coughing, his mouth forming more vile words, "Y-You don't have to do this. I can-"

"Silence," Astation seethed, partly surprised when it worked to shut him up. But then again, he had never been placed in a position to see his master be the one without an escape, "Your life is in my hands now. Tell me the truth. How did you find me?"

Astarion could see the fury behind his eyes, the humiliation of being ordered around by his own spawn. But his desire for life won out in the end.

"Luck," he spat out, "Sheer luck. Yomen saw you in the city, at Shar's Caress with this one. He followed you, found your camp and reported back. I sent Dalyria and Petras to fetch you, gave them a powerful sleeping scroll to knock out your allies. And then you were mine again."

Astarion shouldn't have been surprised that he had the audacity to glare at Tav, seething, "Or at least you would have been."

"And my memories?" Astarion pressed, "How did you know of us?"

"The tadpole squirming behind your eyes doesn't change the fact that I am your master," Cazador said, "Your mind is mine to shape, to understand. It was more difficult than before, yes. But I had enough to know what to say."

Of course. He should have known, "So that was your last torture then?"

"Yes," Cazador said simply, a sneer managing to appear on his bloodied face, "And you have to admit, it worked wonderfully."

"You can kill him now if you'd like," You piped up from his side, staring down at the vampire like the trash he was, "Or...you can take his place."

You hesitated for a brief moment before steeling yourself, looking Astarion in the eye, "Whatever you choose, I'll be here for you. I promise."

Astarion nodded, weighing his options. It was so very difficult to not just kill him where he laid, like the pathetic dog he was. But then again...the ritual would mean endless power. Power that he could use to protect himself, to protect you. So nothing like this could ever happen again.

Astarion looked up, his eyes searching every last one of his brothers and sisters faces. They looked scared, perhaps even resigned to their fate. Just at the hands of another. Astarion hadn't expected the image to make him feel ill, yet it did.

Could he do it? Sacrifice them all, along with everyone else trapped in the bowels of their personal hell? He could. He knows he could. Yet...

He looked back at you, the only thing he had ever loved. The one person to show him a different way to live, who was giving him the freedom to be his own person. But... he wanted that person to be someone worthy of you. Someone who would make you proud.

And there was only one way to do that. Astarion let go of your hand, reaching for the dagger you kept at your belt before striding over to Cazador. He stabbed him with little fanfare, no warning, no chances to beg. And then he did it again, and again, and again. Until he lost count, until the body of his former master was mutilated, his chest nothing but unrecognizable gore.

He wasn't quite sure when he started crying again. He only realized it when he could barely breath through his own screams, every bit of rage, hurt, and humiliation that had been beaten into him coming straight to the surface. He sunk to his knees as he sobbed, tossing the knife to the side.

The whirlwind inside of him was too much, so overwhelming that he was afraid he'd be lost to it. But then he could feel it, you wrapping your arms around him, kneeling next to him as he broke down.

He clung to you, burying his face into your neck as he cried, desperate for your comfort, your touch. You were crying too he realized, your voice breaking as you gently spoke to him, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have been there to protect you. I love you, you did the right thing. I'm sorry."

You had nothing to apologize for, but that didn't stop your words from acting like a soothing balm to all of his internal wounds. But he would get through this. Because for the first time Astarion knew, without a shadow of a doubt he wouldn't have to get through it alone. With you by his side, he would never be alone again.

He wasn't sure how long you both spent there, kneeling in a pool of his tormentors blood. But he knew he felt different when he pulled away, changed.

Free.

He cupped your face, wiping away your tears while only managing to smear the mess about. But it didn't matter that you were both covered in blood and viscera, not when he had you.

"I love you too," Astarion whispered, finally allowing himself to unload the burden of hiding away from you. No more of that. He was yours, fully and completely, "I love you so much. I-I thought that this was it. That I'd never see you again. That you betrayed me-"

"Never," You interrupted, your voice fierce despite how it was breaking, "I never will. You're all I want, all I need. I should have been there, I'm so sorry-"

"No more apologies," Astarion murmered, pressing a quick kiss to your bloody mouth, "No more. We're here. That's all that matters."

You nodded, kissing him again, so sweet despite everything that should have made it sour. Despite his own words, Astarion couldn't help the white hot shame that passed through him. How could he have doubted you, even for a moment? Doubted this, the most beautiful that ever happened to him. Never again would he question what you had together, to let his mind be poisoned by others.

But there would be more time for the two of you later. The rest of your lives if he had anything to say about it. But for now...you freed him. And it was his turn to do the same.

Astarion pulled back, sighing as he looked around the room at his brethren. They were still hanging in the air, all privy to quite the show. He freed them, forgave them even, despite every horrid thing they'd done to eachother over the years.

But that didn't stop him from clocking Petras squarely in the face the second his feet touched the floor. The other man took it well enough, fully knowing that Astarion was capable of much, much worse. Though he was well aware that Petras had been compelled to kidnap him, it didn't change the fact that the punch was very satisfying.

As for the rest of the spawn, the thousands trapped here, he let them go as well. Down to the Underdark, where they could at least have a chance of controlling their feral nature before associating with mortals again.

Then it was time to leave this wretched place, forever. He would never be hurt here again, never controlled. He was free, finally. And with you by his side, what else could he ever ask for?

[cherrypikkins]

it's finally here! some dorothea x leonie :3

[aftgscenes]

Two tweets which COULD MEAN NOTHING- THAT COULD HAVE NO CORRELATION… but I am still looking 👀

[s-h-a-s-e]

the siblings of all time

[lover-of-mine]

Eddie and Ana/Buck and Natalia parallels.

Alternative title: ♪ I think I've seen this film before ♪

[ninyard]

Picturing Jeremy playing exy and singing Pocketful of Sunshine under his breath for some reason now. Picturing him infecting Jean with it and Jean being so annoyed about it

Jean and Jeremy both being mic'ed up and its like

Jeremy: [singing pocketful of sunshine as he runs past Jean]

Jean: This fucking song. It will not leave me alone. It is like a virus to my brain.

then later in the game he catches himself absent mindedly humming it. and Jeremy's like is Jean singing... is he singing that song???

[hypnoneghoul]

you have to OPEN YOUR EYES

[l0stfoster]

Am I workin’ hard or hardly working??

[the answer’s hardly working, I’ve been so stupidly busy this week]

[threepandas]

Bird4Bird Part 1: Yandere!Hawks

Quirk Use Laws? Pretty much forbid anyone NOT a Hero from Flying. Even if they have wings. Even if they were born with them.

Society isn't fair. Never has been.

It doesn't MATTER if you have wings fully capable of carrying you through the skies. Of that freedom so few could only dare dream off. You didn't offer yourself up on the alter of Heroics or the meat grinder of Villiany. Stay on the fucking ground.

You haven't flown since childhood.

Not even so much as gliding. Have gotten in TROUBLE time and again for daring to fully extend them, just to stretch. Long learned to ignore the screaming, begging, jibbering mess of instincts that just... just BEGS you. Pleads with you. To just for a MOMENT...

No one would ever have to KNOW!

.......yeah. Yeah sounds like a lie to you, too. But you can't blame um. It. That part of you. You weren't built for this.

Literally.

Your wings are fucking massive. You've lost count of the times you've clipped door frames. Wall corners. Furniture. They're not DAINTY. Not pretty little short term flight wings, built for flitting about and bright colors. They are TANKY. Meant to carry you and carry you and CARRY YOU. Hold weights most couldn't lift.

You got a LOT of pressure to be a hero as a kid.

Now you most just get a lot of pressure to HAVE kids. Lots of um. Gotta pass on the quirk! Be a good little broodmare! Since, you know, YOU failed to give us what we wanted. It's messed up.

And it's not happening.

Not in a society like THIS. Honestly, you'd get your tubes tied if you COULD FIND A DOCTOR TO DO IT. But again! Quirk. Broodmare. Pop out winged babies. Like HELL you will. Not when they'll never get to fly. Not when it's a life of forced combat for the state or being chained to the ground.

You? You can bear it. You're strong enough. You've HAD to be. But you're not gonna let them do that to any hypothetical kid of yours. You'd sooner fucking die.

Speaking off? Some fuckers never learn. Another "life was mean n unfair so I'm gonna take that out on everyone weaker then me, instead of aiming for the people actually responsible, cause I'm a COWARD" mother fucker. And LOOK! How original! He has bom-...

Wait, FUCK-!!!

The bastard HAD bombs. You, along with most of the idiot "hero chaser~♡!" Crowd you were trying to get PASSED, got thrown back. At least it didn't hit directly. Those up front would have died. Which? From the sounds of panic? Is finally starting to OCCUR to those idiots.

You DON'T SAY? Really. Getting near open combat? Dangerous? Fucking Shocking!

Still, you pull yourself up off your back (fucking OW, you don't sleep on your back for a REASON). Fling your hand forward to let your talons slam onto the concrete (not like it can get any MORE fucked up, who's gonna notice a few holes?) then lever yourself up and forward.

You let the, admittedly, incredible strength of your jacked upper body, do more the just roll you upright. You GRIP. Push off. Muscles rolling under your intentionally baggy clothes as you move, like the apex predator you both are and pretend not to be.

Cause there's kids. There's ALWAYS fuckin kids at these things. They want to see the Heros(~☆™). Want to BE them. Have no goddamned idea how dangerous what they're doing IS because everyone around them treats as safe, normal.

But it's NOT.

And now those kids are hurt and on the ground.

They are scared, confused, and don't know what to do. The adults around them more concerned with saving themselves then protecting the most vulnerable amongst them. You shove passed. It's EASY.

With your wings? With the muscles that came WITH them? The size you got from either your Quirk or just dear ol dad? You are a TANK. If you say move. They MOVE.

You get to the kids. Raptor eyes and sensitivity to blood, perfect for hunting, picking out prey. Even BETTER for picking out boo-boos. That's right everybody, big bird lady, here with band-aids and the reassuring Adult Voice Of Command In A Scary Situation. We're all okay. Everybody together now.

You assess the damage. Not great, could be worse. At least they aren't preschoolers. You nearly got ARRESTED that time for almost punching a cop. The one with the badly twisted ankle can't stand. You haul him up under an arm. You'd toss him over a shoulder, but he'd be exposed.

Time to- The children scream in terror. Your head snaps around, towards the fight. What the HELL have they been DOING?! How has it gotten-!? One of the Villians attacks is headed directly at you and the kids.

FUCK Vigilante Laws. You're not dying today. Neither are these kids!

Your wings snap out to their full size.

Curving like a deep, earth toned, fortress of feathers around you, as you raise them to shield yourself. You activate Strong Bird. (Your dad had Strong Man, your mom had Pretty Bird. Yeah, they thought they were clever when they had a really REALLY powerful avian Quirked kid. Gee! What to name THAT quirk?)

Your wings, already powerful, become nigh unbreakable in their strength. You can't hold it long. But you don't NEED too. Just to tank a hit... that never comes.

You don't know what's happening and you don't CARE. Amateur hour out there nearly got these kids killed TWICE. So the wings stay up. C'mon fledgling, everybody back up, nice 'n slow. Hmm? Yeah. Yeah, sweetheart. JUST like ducklings.

Of course, while the kids get EMTs? (As they should) You get the delightful threat chorus of the City's Finest. Serve and Protect, everybody! You'd grin and bear it... but you kinda have fangs. Lil baby ones. But APPARENTLY they count as "threatening a police officer". Quirkist mother fuc-

"Problem, officer?"

Too close! Hand on shoulder! AAAH, FUCK! You jump. Wing slaming out in reflex, trying to dislodge the "suprise attack". You didn't hear his come up behind you! SILENT MOTHER FUC-!!! You whip around to the sound of snickering.

Delighted eyes more suited to a corvid then the raptor they're attached too, mock back at you. The Avian/Winged Quirks of Japan Golden Boy. Mr. Model himself. Fuckin Hawks, in all his fuckboi glory.

".....I'm not apologizing. You snuck up on me." You growl, FULLY ignoring the offended noise the officer next to makes.

You... do NOT like the corvid grin, Hawks is giving you. He seems fully aware of it.

The longer you both lock eyes... the more your feathers puff up. Shoulders slowly rising to damn near your ears. S...Stop That! I'm BIGGER THEN YOU! I could take you! You... you WANNA GO, you flighty lil shit!?

He reachs forward. Telegraphing his moves. And...?

Tugs at a flight feather.

YOU PUNCH HIM.

The Judge is very understanding. Your lawyer, paid for by Hawks, somehow gets you community service at his agency. (You wish you punched him harder. But those are INSIDE thoughts.) It? Wouldn't be so bad... if he wasn't such a little corvid CREEP.

Always trying to startle you. Endless wing tugging. Staring contests. Stealing your lunch. Stealing BACK your lunch once you've stolen it from HIM. Moving your SHIT. It's like he's TRYING to set off Every Single Instinct You HAVE.

You're gonna kill him.

This is your Supervillian origin story. Mr. "Ooooh~ isn't it a SHAME you can't fly? I can fly!" LORDING his FUCKING LICENSE over you like a [censored in untranslatable Raptor swearing]!!!

If you find! ONE MORE! Of his FUCKING FEATHERS!!! In your shit?! You are gonna running tackling him out the nearest WALL. And frankly? You don't CARE what magazine he's in now! Stop SHOWING YOU! Stop filling your desk! Stop SITTING on your desk! Yeah, yeah, world's greatest hunter. You caught a purse thief today. Woooo. Good for you.

We're it not for the many, MANY witnesses? These Talons would...

"Love to see ya TRY~" the asshole croons, leaning forward, into your space. "You're fast. But I'm FASTER! But hey, maybe ya manage it! Go ahead. Big strong grip, you might even catch me~ DO you WANT to catch me, my lil hunter?"

Condescending FUCKER. What, because he's a hero, you're no threat AT ALL?

You slam your hands down on your desk, either side of him, to pull yourself to your feet. To TOWER above him like a wrathful avian god. You're so furious... you don't notice the way his eyes dilate. The shudder that goes through him.

The way his calculating golden eyes follow you as you storm away, a titan of feathers and wrath, from behind his ever fixed PR mask.

He steals another pen.

He knows it's going to aggravate you. As is the doodling on you paperwork. The swiping of several random pages. The moving your paperweight. Wing tugging. Pay attention to me. Mischief and danger. It's just a passing whim, he tells himself. He'll get bored, he lies. We have nothing in common!

(Cages come in so many shapes. Is your's as unbearable as mine?)

[chiamew]

sorry for the obvious red bouquet bias do you still think I'm hot or whatever

[just-your-average-tangerine]

Yeah, you're right. How dare trans men be offended and hurt by the fact that 'man with a vagina' is synonymous with 'disgusting man who is pathetic'? Pretty disgusting and pathetic of us, isn't it? But I guess it makes sense considering how many of us are men with vaginas, right?

[oscarias]

thinking about how pierre and esteban were not f1 drivers who used to be friends up on that podium today.

they were the kids who shared the same dreams and desires with one another and wanted nothing more than to achieve them side by side.

[sharksandjays]

Oh? You want enemies to lovers? You want found family with trauma trope? You want traumatized golden retriever trope? Daddy issues trope? Orphan trope? Amnesia trope? Kidnapped and tortured trope? Class difference? Dark? But Funny? Honey you arent looking for a YA novel youre looking for Ninjago.

[siddoesstuffig]

the good place x hatchetfield au because i do things like this now apparently

steph - eleanor

pete - chidi

zoey - tahani

ziggs - jason

snigglette - janet

blinky - michael