#God *dammit man you can't keep doing this to me...*

[metranart]

Imagine Gojo setting a condition to his Clan for him to give them an heir. "It's HER or no one." The elders aren't happy that he chose a non-sorcerer, but they reluctantly agree... that is, if Gojo manages to convince you.

“Come here-...I’m far from done, kitten.”

God, Gojo still makes you nervous, with his mouth buried between your legs for longer than you can even imagine. Why are you still so nervous? Is it the proximity? Is it the way he leans in to make eye contact while he licks you? Is it those blue piercing eyes? Or that immensely amused smirk that twists his lips just enough so he can keep eating you out?

"Mmmmm... stop moving so much, (Y/N). We are making a mess of my desk..." he purrs, all too pleased to watch your eyes roll to the back of your skull. "That’s my good girl..." the man between your legs, praises, "my future bride to be...-"

"T-...that's still u-...under discussion, S-Satoru." Your quivering protests are sweet chords of music for him, "I already t-.... told you that I d-don't want to be part of the jujutsu world.... nor b-belong to a-.... any clan."

"Not any clan, pretty. MY clan." 

You hear him slurp greedily at your folds and feel a warm trick of saliva run down your ass, and when your mouth is about to throw another protest-... Satoru Gojo makes a vacuum on your quivering clit with that annoying mouth of his. Your thighs tense and the muscles of your stomach follow, a quake that rakes your entire form, making you a pathetic mock of a human.

Both your hands fly to cover your mouth and Satoru chuckles deep, amused rumble that cracks the rest of your self-control. Your cheeks grow in the most adorable shade of pink, and your breathing hastens.

"So CUTE~"

Satoru whimpers, dumb founded, his broad chest puffing with so much fervor, so much blinding endearment that he feels like about to explode. He can see the doubt in your beautifully contorted features, and he dips his tongue inside you, fucking you with that fat tongue to try to make you agree to his terms, to be HIS.

Dammit! You feel… amaaaaaazing. Why? It’s like a flip inside you only he can switch at will—... even so, he’s dangerous, you remember. He’s a special grade sorcerer, you remember. He’s a mystery, he’s unpredictable—he’s invincible, unreadable, impenetrable and lethal with a playful smile, and you really know absolutely nothing about him. 

Yet, he insists that you belong together. He insists on putting his child inside you, he insists that he will take care of you and his life will be yours. He insists that you belong in his world and if you're not there, he won't be there either. He insists on fucking you stupid every chance he gets, bending you over surfaces, of course! Always putting his coat or his shirt or any piece of his clothing, just so your skin never comes into contact with any unworthy surface. He insists, he insists and insists and insists...

“Fuck—” he growls, grabbing your hips, “—why are you... h-how do you manage to always have me wrapped around your little finger—?” 

“I want you, Satoru-u... but I can't-” 

He stops you with a soft but firm, squeeze to your waist. 

“Not like this,” he pants, tipping his head to slowly lick a strip down your sweet cunt, a farewell caress, the whisper of a kiss to his last effort before lunch time is over and he can try again, later. “Let me pretend just for a little longer that you said yes—"

Your gaze drops to his trembling thighs and the warmth that settles in the pit of your tummy is intensified by the clear drop of precum shining at the tip of his gloriously thick and long cock, now achingly swollen and a mouthwatering shade darker in color than the rest of him.  

“I'm yours, Satoru-” you offer in a quiet whisper and can feel him shake his head. “You aren't.... but I’ll make you change your mind. You, just watch me, kitten."

➡️ 👀 NSFW Sneak Peek artwork HERE ;)

➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this story

[tgcg]

the master baiter

TG: dont be mad

TG: ok thats like asking water not to be wet but

CG: WATER ISN'T FUCKING WET GOD DAMMIT.

TG: look whatever remember when you said you would die for me

TG: is that karkat in the room with us right now

======

CG: I'M DYING "FOR YOU" EVERY SINGLE TIME YOU PEEL OPEN THOSE SHIT-EATING LIPS YOU KEEP PULLED TAUT OVER YOUR DRONING IGNORANCE SHAFT.

TG: heheheh

======

CG: YOUR WORDSLUDGE SPEARS EVERY PARTICLE OF MY BODY WITH PINPOINT STRIDERIAN IDIOCY.

TG: oh shit here we go

CG: A VERBAL BARRAGE THAT PULVERIZES MY FLESH INTO A FINE RED MIST, KILLING ME INSTANTLY. WIPING ME THE FUCK OUT, TO SUCH AN INCREDIBLE DEGREE THAT PALEONTOLOGISTS CAN'T FULLY DISCERN IF A "KARKAT" FUCKING EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE.

CG: THEY'D BE SCRATCHING THEIR NUGBONES OVER IT FOR FUCKING SWEEPS, IF NOT FOR THE SHOCKING REALIZATION MERE MINUTES INTO THEIR DEBATES THAT NOBODY ACTUALLY GAVE A SHIT.

======

CG: AND YET THE TEMPORAL DEVICE STILL SWAYS TO AND FRO IN CONSTERNATION. VEXED BY THE COMPLETE MENTAL VACANCY PUT BEFORE IT BY MY HUMBLE SACRIFICE, BOUND BY ITS COSMIC ROLE, BEGRUDGED BY MY UNSOLICITED DEATH CLOCKING IT INTO OVERTIME. IT HAS BETTER SHIT TO DO, GOD DAMMIT! IT HAS A LUSUS AND A HIVE TO GET BACK TO!

CG: "WHAT IS THIS. WHO LET THIS ASSHOLE IN HERE," IT SAYS. THEY AREN'T EVEN QUESTIONS, JUST ORBITAL SIGHS OF AN UNCARING UNIVERSE. A REALITY NOW KEENLY AWARE OF ITS OWN LAUGH TRACK.

CG: AND ITS PENDULUM TEETERS, TENTATIVE IN ITS OWN DISBELIEF AND PROFOUND APATHY.

TG: damn

======

CG: "THIS SCUMBAG ISN'T EVEN GODTIER YET," IT POINTS OUT. THE AUDIENCE FLIPS THEIR COLLECTIVE SHIT, AGHAST AT THIS REVELATION.

TG: hahaha

CG: IT WELLS UP SUCH A THRUM OF FUCKING ENNUI THAT THE TIMEPIECE FLIPS OFF-KILTER, LANDING SQUARELY IN THE "DUMBASS" ZONE WITH A "FUCK IT" LOUD ENOUGH TO REVERBERATE THROUGHOUT PARADOX SPACE.

======

CG: IT THEN ELECTS TO KICK MY PATHETIC FUCKING HALF-CORPSE BACK INTO THE LIVING PLANE AND FORCE ME, VENGEFULLY FROM THE AUDACITY OF MY OWN IDIOCY, TO REPEAT THIS CYCLE AD NAUSEAM

CG: UNTIL EXISTENCE ITSELF FINALLY CROAKS UNDER THE COMBINED WEIGHT OF OUR COLOSSAL STUPIDITY.

CG: BECAUSE WHO THE FUCK WOULD I BE IF I EVER GOT TO HAVE A BREAK?

======

TG: yep there he is thats him offincer

TG: the man after my own heart

TG: thats a karkat brand "soft yes" if i ever heard one and i know my karkatisms dude im a goddamn graduate in karkatology

TG: i got my degree in this shit

TG: im rocking up to our convos with the dumbass black square hat thing cocked 45 degrees

TG: literally incapable of snapping it back kinda by design of the stupid thing but damn if im not doing it anyways im emanating the snappitudes

TG: im rocking my intelligence right now

TG: also water is absolutely wet dude its like the wettest thing on the planet

CG: I'M NOT REPEATING MYSELF AGAIN

TG: yeah you are

CG: FUCK. I AM.

======

CG: I SAID THE LAST THREE TIMES IT'S A CONDITIONAL TERM--

TG: and im saying its common sense like being wet isnt conditional when youre the perpetual thing of wettening

CG: NO

TG: and brother it is THE wet

TG: like following your conditional argument

TG: if water isnt wet then the other water molecules are constantly making each other fuckin wet so its a moot point

TG: great philosophical debate

TG: which came first the water or the wet?

CG: DAVE

TG: think about it all those particles are wetting each other up all the time and shit

TG: its a fucked up display

CG: ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

======

TG: pretty much a perpetual orgy of the elements

CG: DUDE.

TG: that sounds kinda sick actually if you dont think about what it means

TG: h2orgy

CG: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO VETO THIS STUPID DISCUSSION--

TG: tell me im wrong dude

CG: I'M UNIVERSE-APPOINTED TO HOVER AROUND YOU POINTING OUT EVERY DUMBASS TAKE YOU HAVE FOR THE REST OF TIME.

TG: thats so beautiful to me

TG: i could cry

[reidgenius]

Low Pain Tolerance | S.R. x Reader

image by reidgif <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Word Count: 1.4k Category: angst, hurt/comfort? Warnings: commitment issues, wildly insecure!reader (it's really just me) A/N: I haven't written for Spencer before, so please excuse any OOC inaccuracies and be nice okay! I am a long-time lurker/admirer of the lovely @pathologicalreid and am writing this for her cutesy margovember event :) Song Inspo: Low Pain Tolerance by Abby Holliday

You never enjoyed running.

Still, that didn't stop you from doing it often. Whether it be on the job or in a relationship, you ran.

To catch a bad guy. To catch yourself before you fall. To stop something terrible before it happens... You ran.

In this instance, you found yourself running from Spencer Reid.

"Would you look at me? Please?" he pleaded.

You knew if you were to turn around that you'd see his glassy doe eyes and be drawn right back in. You knew your weaknesses, and he was certainly one of them. The biggest one. That's why you stayed put, staring at his bedroom wall.

"I can't, Spence." You meant to say it with finality, but it came out more as a whimper.

"You can't look at me, or you can't-"

"Neither. Both."

As the holidays approached, Spencer had mentioned the idea of the two of you making a trip out to Vegas. "Just for a day or two," he'd promised. Though there wasn't much he treasured about home, you knew that his mother was there, and that was more than reason enough.

This evening, he'd brought it up again after letting you avoid the topic for weeks.

"It's only a matter of time before you figure it out," you admit.

"Figure what out?"

"God, Spence, that I'm only bringing you down!" you nearly shouted, though you hadn't meant to. The anxiety took over. "I'm like... gahhh! I don't know how to do any of this, I-"

To your dismay, he let out a laugh as you finally turned to face him. A real, genuine laugh.

"Bringing me down?" He looked at you with an earnest amusement. "Honey, I don't think you realize what you-"

"I'm scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit? That I'm scared of meeting her?" A single tear gushed down your cheek.

His brows knit in concern as he quickly thought of ways to disprove the common fears surrounding schizophrenia and it's manifestations.

"Baby, schizophrenia doesn't ma-"

"Dammit Spencer, it's not about that! It's- I..."

You found yourself stumbling over your words.

"I don't care about her diagnoses!" you laughed. (Of course, you did care, but that wasn't what was scaring you.) "I'm scared of this!" you said, waving your hands between the two of you. "I don't want to rush it. I don't want to get her hopes up..."

You let your legs give way to sit on the floor against the wall, your head in your hands, mumbling to the cold hardwood.

"I don't want to get my hopes up."

There was it. That was the truth.

You weren't used to it. You weren't used to someone asking you how your day was and really caring. You weren't used to the notion that a man would want to wrap himself around you at night and keep you close. You'd never been one to draw much attention from men. Or women. Or anyone, really.

Naturally, you figured that there must be something deeply and inherently flawed in you. Something Spencer had yet to discover.

So, being with him was... terrifying. You were constantly waiting and wondering when he'd conclude that you weren't as pretty as he initially thought, or as witty, or as intelligent, or kind, or...

And it would only be cruel to drag Diana into this. To have her think that perhaps her son had found his person. To have her thinking that she might be meeting her future daughter-in-law. It felt cruel to yourself, in some twisted way, to pretend that this was all going to last.

Spencer was typically a fast thinker, but your admission had the cogs in his brain working overtime. You were afraid of him? Of your relationship?

He padded over to join you on the floor, keeping a little distance so as not to scare you.

"Get your hopes up? You don't-" he gulped, "I mean... you don't think we're gonna- that this is gonna work out?"

Still speaking to the floor, you sigh, "I don't know, Spence."

You were exhausted. Incessantly feeling like you're on the brink of being "found out" can do that to a person. It's not that Spencer hadn't done all the right things. No, he was the perfect partner. But therein lied the issue. He was perfect. And, in your opinion, you were far, far from it.

You took a deep breath through your tears.

"I don't think I can keep doing this."

Confusion. Utter shock. Things had been going so well with you the past 8 months. Spencer immediately began to wrack his brain combing through all the possible mistakes he could've made. Did he raise his voice with you? Had he forgotten some big milestone? Was he not giving you enough?

"Honey I-" he gathered himself, placing a hand on your thigh, "I'm so sorry. Can I ask... what makes you say all this?"

Though you were reluctant, you figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Spencer. I am not good for you! Good enough for you!" With each point, you illustrated by raising a finger, "I am impulsive and I complain and I get weird sometimes when you touch me and I can be a massive bitch and I never know how to-"

"Woah, woah, woah-" He snuck up closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and placing his head atop yours, all while you kept rambling. "Why in the world do you say that? Not good enough for me? If anything it's me who isn't deserving of you..."

"No, you-"

He stopped you in your tracks just by saying your name in that beautiful way he does. Like its covered in honey and dripping with admiration.

"You are everything. You may think those things about yourself but I certainly don't." His thumb caressed your bare skin so carefully as he continued, speaking slowly so as to allow the words to really sink in. "You are the most generous person I've ever encountered. You care so deeply about people you love. You are courageous and willing to try all the weird foods I suggest even though you really don't want to." He smirked a bit at that one. "You have taken everything that life has thrown at you and navigated it with grace. You really are just... you're it. You're her. You're the girl - the woman - I've always hoped would come my way but never dreamed actually would. Honey, I've figured out everything I need to know when it comes to how I feel about you."

You sat there, warm under his embrace, pondering his words as he spoke. It's nothing he hasn't said before, granted, in much less grand and emotionally charged ways. But it was like you were really hearing it for the first time. You wanted so badly to believe him.

"I love you," he continued. "I love you so much that sometimes I am afraid of myself. Of what I'd do for you. You, god, you make me so much better."

"I love you, too. Too much," you squeaked out.

"No. Not too much." He leaned back to encourage you to look up at him. "You know I really mean all that right? Just the way you are. Quirks included?"

"I guess. And now I'm just self-conscious that I am so self-conscious..."

"You say that as if I'm not the exact same way!" he chuckles, trying to make light of what is clearly a shared wound. You'll deal with that later. Together, preferably. "Please, trust me. Do you trust me?"

And you did. You trusted Spencer with every cell in your body and hair on your head. There was nobody else you'd ever been so confident in. So, you nod against his chest as your tears begin to subside.

"Good. Now why don't we move this party up into the bed?"

"No offense, Spencer, but the last thing I want right now is to f-"

"No no no nooope! Not that, babe," he laughed. "Just wanna lay with you 'til this feeling passes. Is that okay?"

"Please."

And so, the rest of the evening consisted of cuddles under your massive comforter. Sweet admissions whispered in your ear. The tiniest kisses to your hairline and your shoulder and your nose and your wrists.

By the time you dozed into a worry-free slumber, you believed him a little more.

Perhaps you could let Spencer love you, forever.

[erwinsmithsmissingleftarm]

How long aot men last during the No Nut November

Including: Levi, Erwin, Jean, Eren, Armin & Reiner

Cw: mention of dub-con for Levi's part

Levi:

Doesn't give a fuck about the challenge, it's not true that he will restrict himself from fucking his girlfriend. At the second you ask him about the No Nut November challenge, he will grab you and bend you over the table.

"I don't give a damn fuck about this challenge! I was virgin for years so it's not true that I will do that again."

He will make you fail with him, fucking you like a wild beast at the very first day of the challenge. I mean... did you really expected Levi to get into such a useless and stupid challenge? Levi isn't ashamed to say that he didn't even try to last a single day. He even finds it funny seeing his friends struggling to keep going. And to be even more stubborn, he will do the exact opposite of the challenge by trying to fuck you every day for a whole month. Hope you have the stamina darling!

Erwin:

Will probably be able to last  all month (which is obviously longer than you). The only thing that can make him fail is actually... you. You just have to beg him to fuck you and man, he will lose it. He could have keep going without sex for longer but he can't see his little girl all needy for him.

"Are you sure? I thought you wanted to accomplish the challenge. Well, I give up if you give up."

Will proceed to grab you and throw you into the bed before crawling between your legs and undressing you both. Strong arms spreading your legs as you let out a moan when your two bodies connect together. So many days without this feeling of pleasure... you deserve it.

Jean:

Even with his big ass ego, he can just last for one week. Jean was sure that he could win the challenge without any efforts but... he learned at this moment that you were too much tempting. Always wearing those little skirts or shorts that let him see everything every time you bend to grab something or the too revealing neckline that showed a little piece of the fabric of your bra.

"Fuck, how can I accomplish the challenge if you don't stop teasing me?"

Will be a bit self-ashamed when he will wake up one morning naked in the bed beside you. Dammit, he had a good start but you managed to win against him. Jean will be a bit disappointed at the beginning but finally he will tell himself that the challenge is stupid anyway and that fucking you is way better.

Eren:

Four to five days is the longer Eren can last. It started well but quickly became difficult for him. This man is love-sick with you and you guys got habits that are difficult to destroy. That's why on the 4th day the sexual frustration started to be feel by both of you.

"God damn, why can't I stop fantazing about you?"

You both say that at the same time before starting to laugh. There is no embarrassment between you two since a long time so you just both gave up at the same time before having an intense seance on the kitchen table. What's better than having sex with your lover? That feeling of ectasy can't be replaced by anything else in the world.

Armin:

Armin is such a sweet boy that he didn't even know what's the No Nut November challenge. Once explained to him, he turned red and quietly nodded, telling you that he will accomplish it. But about 3 weeks after, you caught him right during his jerking off seance. Oh god, poor boy was so embarrassed and ashamed of himself.

"I-I'm sorry! I just had a... thought and it just... kinda happened."

Please, reassure him and tell him that it is okay or he will feel bad forever. Armin was truly sure that you will be mad at him but call him a good boy and praise him. Let me remind you that this baby is into mommy kink and praise kink so he will 100% melt and forget about it.

Reiner:

Pretty much like Erwin, he is able to last all month but he won't even lose against you. No matter how much you beg him to fuck you, he will remind you about the challenge and it's supposely "benefic"effect. Unfortunately for you, Reiner has a lower sex drive than you so he doesn't get sexually frustrated after the 3 first weeks.

"You can do what you want, honey, but I will try to win the challenge."

Finally, it's the first of December, and you can finally do the deed. You two officially managed to get through November succesfully (even if you almost gave up once). Even Reiner found it more difficult than what he originally thought but you can reward yourselves by having intense love-making seance of many rounds to get all this frustration out of you.

[spahhzy]

Rain poured on the body of Jaune Arc as he laid down on the scorched ground motionless as Cinder Fall limped away clutching at her sides. The scars of conflict shared on both their bodies, but it would seem that Cinder Fall would once again walk away victorious from this encounter.

Jaune: ...

???: Get up.

Jaune lifeless eyes stared at the clouds.

???: Get. Up.

Moving his head ever so slightly, Jaune looked and saw... himself as the Rusted Knight.

Rusted Knight: No one's coming to save you...

Rusted Knight: Get Up!

Jaune: ...

Rusted Knight: It has to be you...it's all on you! No one else is coming.

Rusted Knight: You have to keep moving! Push forward!

Jaune: ...

Rusted Knight: You can't let them hold your hand anymore!

Vision of his friends danced before his eyes.

Rusted Knight: You have to do this by yourself!

Rusted Knight: You're all alone.

Rusted Knight: If you don't, everyone you care for is going to die... even her!

Jaune: !

The Rusted Knight faded, and the face of his younger self from his time in Beacon manifested.

V3 Jaune: So get up! GET UP! Please! Do you always have to let everyone down!?

V3 Jaune: You can't be weak this time. You have to keep going!

V3 Jaune: With everything you have! Keep going!

Jaune: ...

V3 Jaune: It doesn't matter if it hurts... it doesn't matter!

V3 Jaune: Get up gods dammit!

V3 Jaune: Get up!

His Beacon self faded before a little child manifested before him, and it was him as a little boy, the little boy who always wanted to be a hero.

Little Jaune: Please.

-

Cinder: That...damned Arc... when did he get this strong...

Cinder felt her wounds begin to heal up as the fall maiden powers worked overtime.

Cinder: Tch...the humiliation of someone as pathetic as him driving me to my absolute...I'll make sure to skin that girlfriend of his alive!

Suddenly, she heard rustling of the grass rustle behind her and, to her surprise, stood Jaune.

Jaune:

Cinder: ...

The Knight said nothing as he drew his blade to the stupefied Fall Maiden.

Cinder: You just don't know when to stay down, do you, Arc!

Jaune: ...

Cinder: I was content with letting you die in the rain, but I'll burn you away to ash just like I did to Pyrrha!

Jaune: ....

Cinder: She'll have nothing but the ashes to remember you by, and that's only for shortwhile before I kill her myself!

The man said nothing, and Cinder snarled flames exuding from her mouth in rage as she blasted forward to the Knight who met her halfway.

Cinder: DIE JAUNE ARC!!!!!

[gracethyomen]

Babies. Logan Howlett.

Logan and his girlfriend have been trying for a baby…

Warnings: Angst angst… Infertility, mention of child loss and pregnancy loss, mention of pregnancy, pregnancy tests, hurt, no real comfort. Lab testing, fertility struggles, talk of reproductive systems, sadness, longing.

special thanks to @a-leg-without-fear and @justvalkyrie for fueling my angsty obsession with this idea for the whole week ily guys sm…

“It's going to be negative." She whispered softly, turning her back from his chest to bury her face against his soft shirt.

"We don't know that." His low voice rumbled in response, one calloused hand lifting to run a hand down her head, stroking her hair gently.

"I can't look at it, Logan." She squeezed his waist, squinting her eyes shut. "Can you look? Please?" She begged him quietly and he eyed the clock before nodding solemnly, picking up the plastic wand from the bathroom counter and holding it up so he could see it.

14 tests. 14 tests. One every month. Over a year since they'd started religiously tracking cycles and days and fertility... With no results.

15. 15 tests.

He gently put the test back down, freeing his arms to wrap around her body as she started to shake with quiet tears, already guessing what he was going to say. "No." He whispered, pressing his nose to the top of her head as he tried to stop his own tears from falling.

"God..." She choked against his chest and he squeezed her tighter, holding her through the pain. "I don't know why i'm crying-" She wiggled her arms free to try and wipe her tears but he stopped her, cupping both her cheeks in his large hands.

"It's okay." He murmured, not soothing but reassuring... She understood what he was saying. It's okay to cry. To be sad. It's okay to feel crushed.

"I should be used to it by now-" She insisted, swiping at her face hastily and clearing her throat before she picked up the test, staring at it for a long moment, lower lip wobbling... Before it fell with a soft thunk into the trash can.

"Hey, look at me." He urged her, watching her turn to face him but not quite meet his eyes. "Look at me." Finally, she looked at him, her eyes wet and a little red at the corners. "We're gonna do this. You and me. I don't care what we have to do or how long it takes." He pressed his forehead against hers, sighing lowly. "We'll keep trying."

"I have to get to class-" She shook her head, stepping out of his arms. "We're doing a lab today I don't want the kids alone with the chemicals."

"Honey..." He trailed off as she swept out of the room, rubbing a hand down his face before looking down at the plastic test sticking out of the trash bin. "Dammit." He muttered hoarsely to himself, sitting down on the edge of the tub with a long, slow sigh.

"Hello, Logan..." Charles trailed off as Logan stepped closer, eyes softening. "Oh, Logan... I'm so sorry." The Professor rolled slightly towards him, rounding his desk.

"Don't do that." He responded bluntly, landing in the uncomfortable armchair as he watched the elderly man come closer. "I need to ask you for a favor."

"What is it?" Charles asked, folding his hands neatly in his lap while he waited for Logan to speak.

"I need you to have Hank take a look at me." He forced out, cringing internally at the image of Hank studying his... Specimen... That he would no doubt have to submit. "See if there's something wrong, something we can do-"

"These things take time, Logan. I'm sure there's nothing wrong." The Professor interjected, trying to soothe him.

"We've given it time, Charles." Logan shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Fifteen months and nothing. I just need-" He broke off. "I need to know if this will work for us."

Charles hummed under his breath, pondering his friend's words. "I'll ask Hank what he can do. He's not a fertility specialist but he may have an idea of what to look for." He looked Logan up and down. "As much as i'm sure there's nothing wrong... you have to prepare yourself for both outcomes in this situation."

Logan looked at the man, eyes full of guarded emotion. "I need to do this. I need to be able to do this. For her, for us." He swallowed, hard. "This is the one thing she wants the most... I need to be able to give that to her."

"And what do you want, Logan?" Charles arched a brow.

The Wolverine had never looked more defeated. More determined, than he did when he answered him. Not with words, but in his mind. His desires. A deep longing that went beyond words and could only be communicated by feel.

“I’ll tell Hank to expect you.”

Almost an hour later, Logan finally handed in his “cup” to the azure doctor. Both men avoiding any kind of eye contact. The exchange happened quickly in an awkward silence, filled by the sound of Hank coughing as he took the sealed container with him.

“I’ll have a look at these-“ He promised. still not quite looking at Logan.

Logan watched as Hank worked, taking note of his reactions to everything he saw, the change in his scent… Unfortunately the man was a consummate professional and schooled his face and body into complete relaxation.

Three hours after that, Hank finally printed a few sheets from his laptop. The sound of the printer spitting out the papers was jarring in the previous near-silence of the room. With a soft clearing of his throat Hank went to pick up the papers and sat down in his chair, spinning it to face Logan.

“Bring her down.”

“What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Just call her down.”

“Logan, the adamantium fused to your skeleton is obviously going to affect your body.” Hank sighed, removing his glasses. “It’s why we don’t use cobalt for hip replacements anymore, too many cases of it causing side effects.”

“So is there something wrong with him?” Logan looked at her briefly when she spoke. Holding his hand in her lap and rubbing her thumb across it gently. “Is he okay?” Warmth and uncertainty spread through his chest. A double edged sword for what was to come.

“So far his mutation has kept the metal from damaging his vital functions…” Hank hedged. “But for how long I can’t tell. It’s a slow moving condition… But it has had some unsavory side effects.”

Logan swallowed hard, refusing to look away from the doctor. “Say it, Hank.”

Hank took a moment, shuffling the papers in his lap. “Your sperm count is low, Logan. Very low. What few you do have are… damaged.”

“What does that mean?” She asked, clearing her throat. “Damaged?” Logan squeezed her hand softly, nodding at her to let Hank continue.

“They’re not quite formed correctly. I’ve seen similar sperm counts in cancer patients living in remission. Like radiation, it seems the metal in your blood has not allowed your body to make healthy sperm.” Hank coughed softly. “Even on the slim chance fertilization could occur- assisted or otherwise -the zygote would not develop far past conception.” Logan watched his love’s lip start to wobble just a little in his periphery, the movement near imperceptible. “I’m so sorry, Logan. But unfortunately, you are effectively sterile.”

The silence that hung in the room felt suffocating, the three of them sitting in the unnatural stillness for long moments before Hank stood, his stool screeching loudly on the tile floor.

“I’ll tell Xavier you both have the rest of this week off.” He dipped his head, laying a comforting hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Take some time. It’s a lot to process.”

Hank left the room, and the sound of the door shutting was followed by soft sobs.

That silence that came after Hank told them the news followed them both into their shared suite. It hung over their heads while they brushed their teeth and crawled into their bed. When Logan rolled on his side to pull her into his arms, burying his face into her neck.

“I’m so sorry.” She choked out, a quiet sob escaping her throat. “Logan, i’m so sorry.”

His brows furrowed and he rolled her over so she was facing him. “I should be saying that…”

“No.” She lifted both her hands to his face, “This isn’t your fault. It’s not. This was done to you, Logan… We can get through this.”

He swallowed and leaned his forehead to rest against hers. There was that silence again. Filled this time by her soft crying and his own breathing as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. “I…” He took a deep breath. “I wanted it. So bad.” He admitted into the secret cave between their bodies, letting his heart break in the safety of her arms. That dream floating away like a cobweb on the air. “It kills me that… That I can’t give us a baby.”

“I know.” She breathed, eyes closing against her tears. “I wanted it too. It kills me that I can’t do this for us.”

“You can.” Logan pointed out, pulling one of her hands down to his chest so it pressed against his heart. “I can’t.”

“I won’t.” She insisted. “Not without you. You’re not broken, Logan.” She squeezed their joined fingers over his heart. “I wouldn’t change you. Not for anything.”

“Not even-“

Silence. That painful, suffocating silence. Then…

“No.”

[etherfabric]

Directions from Your Higher Self

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

Pile 1

The Star, The Moon

You started to believe in miracles, and are now scared shitless. No small expectations keeping you safe from disappointment anymore. You got a taste of what magic feels like, and now fear dullness like the plague. Two things: You are allowed to have boring days, that doesn't mean the magic is gone. It can't be Christmas everyday. You would get sick of the lights eventually, believe me. And the other thing: That's why they say that victimhood can be a kind of safety blanket. If you already expect only crap from life, there is no horrible suspense anymore. But now... you can't go back. Even if you try it.

This is an icky phase of metamorphosis. It's normal that it feels disorienting and like you can't make sense of anything anymore. Do soothing stuff, calming habits, be around safe people. And spoiler: This is about embracing your humanity in a whole new depth. Don't worry, it will feel supernatural again soon enough. But for now, practice being plain, while also weaving your belief in miracles into it. Challenging, yes, but nothing you can't handle. You got this.

Pile 2

The Moon, 3 of Pentacles

Nothing you put energy or effort into seems to yield anything. It feels like punching in slowmotion, nightmarish. Hitting no one who needs to feel your hits. Newsflash: This is not a time for work! Get soft, dammit. You can't experience rest while still trying to prove something. No one is watching. You are being your own cruel audience, and boo yourself into despair. What are you aiming at? Who convinced you that particular thing is the sole hope for you to be happy ever again?

I love you, you are me, I am you, but I can't let you go on like this. Not with what lies ahead of us. If you only knew how easy things will get. How many fears will never come true. How much lighter you could afford to be. How much love you already deserve. But you have to dare opening your arms, and put the tools down. The monuments you try to erect are aimed at Gods you won't believe in anymore once you experience your feminine side as a gift, and not a curse. Grindset? Grind your teeth while napping, if you have to. But this is bigger than your egotistical, temporal ambitions. You need to do it slow, and I won't stop insisting. Because I can see more than you. You will have no choice but trusting me on this one.

Pile 3

The Emperor, The Devil

Have you heard of this awesome thing called "free will"? Let's take that baby for a ride. Use 3 spoons for the same meal. Lie on the floor of your hallway and recite a song. Buy a stranger a magazine about trains. Take a pair of scissors to your least favorite shirt. Name your nail polishes after famous people. The possibilities are literally endless, but yet you rotate the same 7 things. They will stay ready for when you need them next, but let's shake it up a little, huh? No wonder you feel trapped and stuck. But YOU make the rules, at the end of the day. Yes, there are outer limitations you have no influence over, but even in a literal cage, you can decide what you think, or how you sit, or what notes you hum, or what shadow figures you make with your hands.

The thing itself is meaningless - it's about you experiencing being a CREATOR. Not just a servant to others. I don't care if it's throwing a paper plane into your bathtub, or quitting your job and disappearing to Nepal - but we crave novelty and agency. Deeply. Break the self-imposed limits, any of them. Just to feel what it feels like. It's more rewarding than you imagine.

Pile 4

The Hanged Man, 2 of Cups

Oh shucks. You like someone. It happened. And you can't cancel it willynilly. Suppression has run its course, and now you have to face the embarrassment of having a heart with a need to connect and love. This has completely ruined your illusion of sovereignty you so deeply depended on to feel safe in the world. What now? Where will it lead? What does it mean? What will happen next? Do they like me? Do they think of me? Do they think of me badly? Why do I think about them? Is this me being brave, or pathetic? Is there a true difference?...

The questions don't stop, and you know what - they shouldn't. This is less about the "result" of this connection (I know, boo me, because this is your hyperfixation above all, despite not ever admitting it) and more about getting you out of your shell to be curious about yourself again. The heart needs to be open, and these fears and doubts have been there for a long time already. You are ready to face them, examine them, and learn more about yourself than any flavour of aloofness could ever teach you. I know you hate it, but I can also see the faint giggly twinkle in your soul from up here, buried under all this denial and acting tough. And that's the most scary part for you. That you actually like someone, like, in THAT way. How scary that life has no guarantees, but coming to peace with that truth will serve you much more than any relationship ever could.

[gamergirl-niffler]

Taking Care of Haganezuka's Injuries - headcanons

Requested by: @zero-sugar-null

Being a swordsmith's wife is a little difficult, but being Haganezuka's s/o is a whole different story.

He not only gets angry easily but also gets hurt just as easily and of course you are the one to take care of him.

‌Any kind of bruises or cuts annoy him even more than anything else. 

Not because they hurt.... Because they interrupt his work!

"God dammit!" Loud, angry voice fill the forge as a not yet finished sword is thrown across the room. "It's not perfect. I will have to start from the beginning," Haganezuka mutters and suddenly stops at the uncomfortable feeling in his palms. After taking one look at his hands, he can tell what was wrong. He didn't even notice the cuts at first, but they indeed were there. 

So it was time to see you.

‌He is snappy when someone else is offering help.

True. Most smiths hate his guts but still he is one of them, so offering help is something normal, but Hotaru truly hates it!

"Hanganezuka? Maybe you need help?" Someone asks.

"NO! Leave me alone!” He growls in return.

Who the hell they think they are to suddenly offer him help?! Are they looking down on him? That's some kind of joke.

He doesn't need it... Not from them at least. After all he has you.

Any other attempt of helping him ends with an argument. In the end, other smiths stop even trying. 

You are the first and only person he comes to.

At this point, you are pretty used to your husband returning home with his hands hurt in one way or another. Yet it still somehow gets you off guard when in the middle of the day the door suddenly bursts open, and you see a big man in a weird mask while you simply try to enjoy your tea and a day off!

Him showing up isn’t unusual, but after years with him, you know what it means. You put away your nice, hot tea and get up to get the stuff.

‌He doesn't wince or whine. 

Hotaru is just watching you, maybe frowning once in a while, but you don’t really know because of the mask. He doesn't like how it feels when you take care of his injuries, the burning sensation isn’t his favorite, but your touch is great compensation for the moments of pain. 

It soothes the discomfort and immediately makes him feel much better.

Hotaru ALWAYS thanks you.

Each and every time you do this for him, no matter how many times and for how many years. It's a really simple, polite gesture, but it's important for him. 

He is fully aware he isn't the best pick for a husband, yet you picked him for some reason, so it would be only fair to show you how grateful he is.

"Thank you," he says after raising his mask to place a kiss on your forehead and then cheek. 

Hotaru often thanks God for the mask, because your sweet reaction makes even this angry man blush. 

‌Sometimes you scold him.

You understand his craft is important to him, but some days he takes it too far. Getting his hands all cut and bloody, you can't pat him on the head for that!

"How can you do this to yourself? Love, I admire your work and dedication, but you can't keep it up."

He scoffs at your words. "Someone has to make sure you slayers won't fight with bare hands."

"I know that and thank you for this but working so hard is stupid."

“HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT?!” Hotaru quickly gets defensive.

Scolding sometimes turns into heated arguments between the two of you... Ups...

LET'S REVERSE STUFF A LITTLE

You are a demon slayer, so you make sure the village as well as smiths in it are safe. What means: going against demons, what means: sometimes you get hurt.

‌ Information of you getting hurt is one of few things that pull him away from work.

Yes, he is always deep in his work, but the simple mention of you getting hurt makes him drop everything. He needs to know how bad it is? Are you alive? 

So he drops whatever he is doing (even if it means starting from the beginning again) and goes to see you.

‌If it's possible, he helps you himself. 

Haganezuka isn't a master of taking care of others. It's hard for him, but he watched you work so many times, so he follows exactly those patterns. 

He cleans your wounds and wraps them carefully, just like you do with him. 

Also get ready for a kiss on every wound you have, after all kisses make it all better, right?

‌If it's not possible, he entrusts you to a person who knows what to do.

But this process is full of yelling and threats. 

"You better take good care of her! Or I will deal with you myself! She is my wife, remember that!” 

Sometimes even other smiths must hold him in place for the safety of others.

‌He scolds you as well.

That's another thing you should get ready for. Hotaru is your worried husband, so he has a right to do so when his wife isn’t careful enough.

Right after sweet kisses, he will scold you for getting hurt.

"How could you be so stupid!,” He mutters, annoyed. "You should be more careful. You're a demon slayer, not some child with too sharp toy! Being careful should be your priority!"

"B-But..." You try to argue, but you are quickly cut off by him.

"NO BUTS, Y/N,” He snaps at you. "You need to remember about your own safety. Keep other slayers and villagers safe but remember about your own safety too!"

You just sit there and listen, nodding from time to time. It's obvious your husband is worried, and you won’t argue with that. It was understandable, you do the same when it comes to him.

--------------

In the end, you care about him deeply, and he cares about you even deeper. Each of you try to keep the other safe and provide help and/or comfort whenever it's needed. 

It's just a simple proof of how much you love each other, and neither of you is going to complain. 

Both of you love it so much, actually.

[jennrypan]

..librarian x Jason Todd 👀

I'm so right. Walk with me. (First meeting!)

Imagine..being in an old library where you take care of so many books and keep trying to get people to come in, enjoy the literature but it's Gotham, everyone's far too focused on staying clear of the various villains to try and stop by to read an old book.

You contemplate closing it..maybe find a job in..who knows, a bank teller?

That idea just puts a different expression on your face and you huff quietly to yourself..you were so patient about your books and the history of this library but it was old..and no one seemed to care for libraries anymore, the building had graffiti all over the outside of it- which you tried to clean as best as you could..only for it to be dirtied once more and the windows were always getting broken by various hoodlums and one stray weapon at one point..fortunately the villains never seemed interested in some run down library so that was never an issue, but that didn't mean anyone came inside.

Until..a large figure came hurtling in through your windows..creating a huge mess of glass and wood before it landed on the floor with a thud and an annoyed grunt, you were so close to questioning the figure..a bat half way into your grasp before you noticed the bright red helmet.

"God dammit..Ivys not playin' fair."

His voice was almost..robotic? Deeper than any humans had any right to be, and you could only watch as Redhood, the Redhood stood in your library and simply dusted himself off, muttering to himself and slowly..you stepped back- you had no real negative opinion about the man but he wasn't someone you dreamed of meeting..no famous person in Gotham was anyone you wanted to meet in all honesty..they bought trouble.

Redhood tapped something on his helmet, muttering something under his breath- you briefly caught the words 'Nightwing' and 'Don't you fucking laugh' but you didn't intend to lean closer to figure out the full extent of that conversation, mostly focused on blending into the shadows of the dimly lit library..and worrying about how the Hell you're gonna fix your window this time..the window area was practically gone now cuz the guy was huge! So it might as well be a hole and you can't run a business with a hole! Everyone already thinks you're closing-

"Oh shit, I didn't know anyone was still in here."

The sudden statement caused you to near jump in the air..clutching your bat to your chest as you stared at the man who's head had turned to you..the bright white eyes of his helmet near gleaming and you wished you could see his expression to see what he was thinking.

His head tilted ever so slightly and when he did..thats when you realized you were simply staring at him unblinking like an idiot.

"Uhm-! Are you gonna pay for the window?"

Those were the first words that left your lips with your voice raising in pitch..and you immediately cringed a little, letting out a nervous cough.

There was a beat of silence before a low snort came from Redhood, his head turning towards the man sized hole he had created.

"Oh, sure."

He replied, and you were left staring at him again..blinking like an owl.

"..Sure?"

You repeated, watching as the man adjusted his jacket..black combat boots crunching over the glass shards that littered the ground, taping his helmet again..no longer paying you any mind at the moment.

"Yeah yeah..I hear ya, I'm on my way- got thrown into some.."

Redhood muttered, you could practically hear him rolling his eyes before his head tilted back..he was looking over at the shelves of books.

"Library?..huh."

You squinted a little at that. This was clearly a library! It may be run down and spooky but it had great books!

"Does that helmet make it hard to see?"

You grumbled under your breath, immediately tensing when the white eyes became trained on you..your mouth snapping shut as you gave him a nervous, thin lipped grin.

"Funny..anyways..I'll pay for the window."

Redhood reiterated, and all you could do is slowly nod and hum in acknowledgement- giving him a small thumbs up.

"Oh! Thanks? I mean you did..break it with your body, but thanks! Thats.."

There was another little chuckle from him before he climbed back through the hall not even letting you finish stumbling over your words! You clicked your tongue a little as you slowly set down your bed..walking towards the broom and dustpan to clean up the mess he left.

He's definitely not gonna pay you back..he's got other shit to be doing anyways.

Guess you got some saving to do.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: A Tragic Romance

King: gosh joanne sure has been trending a while on twitter King: like, for almost a week straight Poe: oo Poe: er Poe: that's King: yeah that's not good Poe: that's very bad Poe: i don't think it's healthy Poe: it does things to you

Vladmir Nabokov: ok i got a story Nabokov: but i'm only gonna tell it if you all promise not to be mad at me Poe: we promise Nabokov: you promise? Nabokov: you all have to say it Poe: we all promise King: sure we promise Barker: promise Nabokov: swear i

Vladimir Nabokov: ok this is the story of the guy who raised his own child bride Piers Anthony: why would you say something so controversial and yet so brave

King: wow jeez um Nabokov: but before you all get mad at me Nabokov: keep in mind that the narrator is unreliable King: i dunno this really seems kinda... Nabokov: unreliable, goddamnit! unreliable!

King: wow this story seems pretty out there King: and you endorse this kind of thing? Nabokov: unreliable, dammit! i said unreliable! King: cuz i don't think we can approve of this Nabokov: oh my GOD

Nabokov: you had a baby clown gangbang King: WHOA now you're taking that scene WAY out of context vladimir and you know it

Nabokov: you all can't understand this! this is REAL literature JK Rowling: exactly Nabokov: see? she gets it Rowling: a beautifully tragic love ssstory Nabokov: yes a bea Nabokov: Nabokov: what

Rowling: yeah i thought it was a wonderful love ssstory King: Poe: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: Rowling: why are you looking at me like that? Rowling: iss it becausse you hate women?

Rowling: i know i know, you're all thinking Rowling: a romance between a middle aged man and a child?? Rowling: but don't worry! Rowling: they're both their assssigned at birth genderss Rowling: sso it'ss all ok

Rowling: humbert humbert ssufferss greatly in the purssuit of romance sso when lolita sstartss looking elssewhere for attention, humbert will carry her off on a desperate cross-country misadventure all in the name of love Rowling: in National Lampoon's Cross State Line Vacation

VC Andrews: i don't think that's much of a romance Rowling: oh yeah??? well what would YOU know? Andrews: funny you should ask Andrews: i do have some ideas about that

VC Andrews: [singing] i have a secret recipe Andrews: concocted with much skill Andrews: and once you've tried my special dish Andrews: you'll Andrews: never Andrews: get Andrews: your Andrews: filllll Andrews: TAKEEEEEE Andrews: ten terrific blood relatives...

Rowling: tell them, vladmir, it's a romance right? Nabokov: no it's about how i heard these scientists taught an ape to draw Rowling: Rowling: Rowling:

Nabokov: ironically the ape only drew the bars of its prison Nabokov: makes you think Poe: i have no sympathy Poe: that ape can rot for all i care Barker: yeah edgar has strong feelings about apes Poe: ROT, i say

[watarfallar]

Desert Duo treats because it's a week until Christmas

Grian: I’m going to get so much done today. Scar: I’ll hold you to that. *8 hours later* Scar: So how much did you get done? Grian: One thing. Scar: Well, that’s one more than usual.

Scar: So my therapist was talking to me and she said that I really just need to break down my walls and let people in. Scar: So I’ve decided to break the fourth wall. Scar: *looks at camera* Hi there. I use humor as a coping mechanism.

Scar: Hey, are you alright with swearing? Asking for a friend. Grian: Yeah? Scar: Bitch.

Grian: *Gives a bouquet to Scar* Scar: You know I'm allergic. Grian: That's the point.

Grian: Is this mistletoe? Scar: Uh, no, no, that is basil. Grian: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you. Scar: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Grian: What have I done wrong?! Scar: Everything. For your entire life.

Scar: If it’s any consolation, they got me here on a very misleading text message. Grian: Technically, you are about to be screwed in the biology room.

Scar: What is wrong with you? Grian: Many, many things… Grian: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Scar: Live fast, die young, leave behind a pretty corpse! That’s what I always say! Grian: You should say something else.

Grian: My back hurts. Scar, walking into the room: Take the spine out.

Scar: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it. Scar: Everything will be fine. You have no choice. Grian: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that? Scar: Ominous positivity.

Grian: Scar, what did you just do!? Scar: I took your advice. I stopped running from the problem and I tackled it head on. Grian: I meant try emotional honesty, not murder!!

Scar: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Grian: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

Scar: Detective! The man belonged to some kind of cult that worshipped a divine forest creature with antlers and that’s how he met his end. Grian: Dear God! Scar: Yeah! Exactly!

Grian: You've got to act tough, Scar! Show 'em you can't be pushed around! Show 'em they can't mess with you! Scar: Right. Yes. Tough. Got it. Scar, standing up on their stool and slamming their hands down on the bar: I'LL TAKE A CHOCOLATE MILK.

Grian: Fight me! Scar: gets on one knee and pulls out a ring Scar: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

Grian: Don’t preach to me about romance, Scar. I had a three-way in a hot-air balloon.

Scar: What’s sexting? Grian: I'm not having this conversation with you.

Grian: If I ever had a child, I imagine they would be a lot like you. Scar: Aww, thanks— Grian: Which is probably why I’ve never reproduced.

Scar: What’s your greatest weakness? Grian: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics. Scar: Could you give an example? Grian: Yes, I could.

Scar: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Grian: AS ENEMIES?! Scar:

Scar: I desire moisture. Grian: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Scar: Babe, you're so funny! Grian: We have 1492 days until your tragic premature death. You will break my trust three times before that happens, but I forgive you. Scar: Awwww, that's sweet of you!

Grian: I didn’t want to do it, no one else wanted to do it, so I made Scar do it!

Scar: You got a date yet Grian? Grian: No… Scar: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Grian: Dammit, you ruin everything! Scar: You're welcome.

Scar: They called me the B-word. Grian: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’.

Scar, talking about Grian: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH HIM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? HE DID. HE KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

[irkimatsu]

Something tells me that Overlord Husk would 100% be a sugar daddy who loves spoiling his S/O. Like Husk probably has a lot of money from gambling I know that man is loaded. He just wants to snuggle his S/O and tell them how amazing they look in all the expensive things he’s bought them. At the same time he listens to you and respects your boundaries. Okay maybe not a sugar daddy but like a very rich cat demon boyfriend.

I know that probably isn’t true in canon he was apathetic to the souls he owned considering he’d deal them with other Overlords but dammit let me dream!

- sparkling heart anon 💖

Oh, anon, you have no idea how much I adore Overlord Husk as a sugar daddy. I don't even see why it should need to contradict canon too badly, actually! Yes, he was mostly apathetic to the souls he owned and gambled. He wouldn't have been able to gain as much power as he did if he saw those souls as people. I think he'd occasionally have those moments where something in him cracks as he realizes what he's doing, gambling off souls to god-knows-who like fucking cattle, but he has to turn that part of his brain off in order to get any work done. Thinking about that too hard will irreparably break his psyche. (He can have that break after his fall, when he's lying alone at night with nothing else to think about besides what he'd spent so many years doing.)

But then he meets you. Maybe you walk into the casino looking to make a deal with him in exchange for work, or maybe he wins you from a much more sadistic Overlord. He lays his eyes on you, and he immediately knows you're something special, like a valuable jewel, something he'd be foolish to gamble away like nothing. He immediately sets to making your new life with him comfortable, spoiling you with presents and trips, keeping you on his arm at Overlord events and making sure everyone knows you're his precious lucky charm and that he will do anything to keep you safe. Others have suggested he bet you in exchange for untold riches and power, anything he could possibly desire; but what could be worth losing you? Even worse, what could be worth ever putting you in harm's way? (If Valentino even thinks about you, Husk will kill him and make it painful.) He's so proud of you, not just for your looks, but for your talents and who you are as a person. He adores you. If your relationship with him becomes sexual, he eventually starts seeing his dancers and other clients less and less. Why sleep with them when he can have you? He wouldn't pressure you into any sort of physical affection, of course, but god does he love spoiling you physically as well as monetarily. (After he gives you a present, thank him with a kiss and an "I love it, daddy!" The man will melt into a puddle.)

He falls in love with you eventually. Love was the last thing on his mind when he took you on as his spoiled little pet, but those feelings soon sneak up on him, and once he acknowledges them he can't see how he was supposed to not fall in love with you. Out of everything he's gained as an Overlord, you're the best thing that's happened to him. He'll do anything to keep you by his side, happy and safe and loved...

...but what happens when everything starts to fall apart? He starts losing money and souls just as quickly as he earned them. He becomes more reclusive, sitting out of events when he can afford to. He gambles more than ever, desperate to get back on top, but he only ends up losing more and more. He's trying to hide how dire things are getting from you, but the surprise presents have mostly stopped, aside from the occasional bouquet or jewelry that you know didn't cost that much. And you're not judging him for that, it's about the thought and not the money... but what changed?

You soon find him hunched over his desk, looking over papers informing him of overdue debts and the dire consequences should he not pay up. They aren't just threatening him, but they're threatening you, something he would have never told you until you accidentally saw one of the letters on his desk...

He'll protect you, he promises, he'll make the money, he'll never let them hurt you...

...but would you feel safer if he let you go? They'd have no reason to hurt you if you weren't tied to him anymore...

He can't imagine why you wouldn't want to go. He's not the rich, powerful fat cat whose lap of luxury you used to live in. Here he sits in his trashed study, surrounded by debt paperwork and bottles of liquor, clothes and fur disheveled, eyes puffy from the rage-crying fit that led you to check on him in the first place. How could you still love him like this?

Climb into his lap and let him hold you. Let him cry it out. And most importantly, let him know you're not leaving, that it was never about the money, that you love him...

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 34

Summary: you're caught under Shane's grip, whose violent intentions and past manipulations come to light as you fight to survive. At the same time, Daryl uncovers disturbing evidence of foul play and realizes you’re in danger, prompting him to urgently follow the trail into the woods.

warnings!!!! violence toward fmc

x flash forward x

x flash forward x

You

Your heart stutters, panic surging through your veins as you struggle beneath Shane, but his weight keeps you down. He managed to throw you to the ground with ease when he had emerged into the clearing after you. His boot presses harder now, grinding you into the ground, and all you can manage is a choked breath. Shane crouches down, his face close to yours, the smell of sweat and dirt overwhelming.

Where the hell was Rick? But you already had the terrible sinking feeling in the back of your mind. When you took off running, that had never been part of the plan. Shane was never supposed to reach you, or at least Rick was supposed to be there when he did. But when he didn’t come and no one stepped out of the trees for you— you knew you were alone. The fears you felt about the holes in this plan were coming true. You’re alone with Shane, and he’s ready to do what it takes to get what he wants.

“You think you’re clever,” he spits, his voice dripping with disdain. “Thought you’d sneak Randall out, keep playin’ hero. You always did like to get in my way.”

You try to twist away, but his grip is iron, his fingers digging into your arm as he drags you roughly to your feet, only to slam you back against a tree. The bark scratches at your back, pain radiating up your spine as his hand wraps around your throat, just enough pressure to make breathing a struggle.

“Y’know what else?” Shane growls, his face close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath. "I saved you countless times, Y/N, and yet you always fought against me. When it was me who got the medical supplies the day you were shot. It was me who made the move to kill the walkers in the barn— protecting everyone. It was me who tried to save you from the trailer trash you were becoming. But you could never let him go, even though he was always bringing you down. 

"And now, even after everything I’ve done for you, you can't ever back off. Can't stop gettin' in my way. I’ve kept this group alive. I killed Otis to get back to you, I never once put you at risk of getting hurt. But all you can think of is how I’ve controlled you, Jesus. I can’t control you, you’re a fucking mess, you can’t even control yourself, dammit!" His fists on you tighten with anger as he says the last words, and you feel your world narrowing to this--here and now, where Shane might actually kill you.

"God, and watchin’ you and Daryl fall apart back then... All that whinin’, all that cryin’ over him? Sure, I tried to actually protect you, keep you from ruining your life. But seein' your friendship crumble was the highlight of it all. Though, you would hop to any man who gave you some affection, huh?”

Your vision swims, panic clawing at you as you try to shove him off, but his grip tightens. You can’t break free. Every muscle in your body screams to fight, to run, but Shane’s strength overpowers you. He leans in, his words biting into your skin like a poison.

“And you wanna know somethin’ else? You remember that day you called Daryl, beggin’ for him to talk to you again? Yeah, you remember. You cried my ear off all night over the phone after that. Me and the guys beat the shit outta him after that. I wanted to teach him a lesson—show him what happens when he doesn’t keep his promises when it came to stayin’ away from you.”

Your blood runs cold, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. Daryl. He beat Daryl because of you. The night at Henderson’s when you’d seen him with  a black eye and busted lip. After weeks of not talking, only that one phone call when he finally picked up. It was your fault he was beaten to a pulp. You called Shane that night to tell him about the phone call, how you didn’t understand why Daryl was pulling away so fast. The tears prickle at your eyes, from the memory and the feeling of Shane’s hand crushing your windpipe. You try to lash out, to shove him off, but Shane’s fist slams into your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. You double over, gasping for breath, pain radiating through your ribs.

“God, it was all too easy! Threaten Daryl that I’d plant some evidence, give his dear old junkie nobody brother some serious time, and he was quick to move off you! Didn’t take much,” he leers at you. 

“I was hopin’ when the world went to hell, I’d be done with you,” Shane continues, his voice rough as he steps back, letting you fall to your knees. “Thought I’d be through with all your bullshit, all that whinin’ over Daryl. You stopped bein’ a hot piece of ass and turned into an annoyin’ kid. Nothin’ but a liability.”

You try to push yourself up, your whole body trembling, but Shane’s boot connects with your side, sending you sprawling back to the ground. The pain sears through you, but the physical hurt is nothing compared to the sting of his words.

“And then Lori...” Shane’s voice turns darker, more twisted. “You know, I always liked Lori. Even when I was with you, I was thinkin’ about her. Hell, I was like a brother to Rick, able to stay so close. Lori? She lapped it up, but of course wouldn’t do nothin about it back then. Then Rick went into that coma and the world went to hell. Thought I finally had her all to myself.”

His words twist deeper, more cruel. You choke on the pain, your vision blurred as you try to crawl away, but he grabs you by the collar, yanking you back.

"I had something good with Lori before you and Rick showed up," he snarled, "And then you came and she saw that you were a little too close for comfort--afraid of what you and I were. You pushed her further away from me without even having to fucking lift a finger. Always in my way. Always keeping me from what I want. Whether it was you or Lori. And now you’re keeping me from being a father to that baby in her,"

You manage to get a hand up, shoving at him with what little strength you have left. “I didn’t—” you start, but Shane’s fist connects with your jaw, the force sending a sharp crack through your skull. The world spins around you as you hit the ground again, stars exploding behind your eyes.

“I was done with you back then,” he spits, standing over you, his eyes wild. “But here we are. You keep stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong. Thought you could run, huh?”

You struggle to push yourself up, your body screaming in protest, but Shane’s foot presses hard against your ribs again, forcing you back down. Every breath feels like a knife in your chest.

“But you ain’t runnin’ now, sweetheart. You’re right where I want you.”

The cold finality in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You know you can’t escape. No one was coming to save you—to stop this. Not this time. Your body feels weak, your mind frantic, searching for any way out. But his weight, his presence, is overwhelming, suffocating.

-----

Daryl

“He’s got no bites,” Daryl mutters, crouching down to inspect the lifeless body of what was once Randall. His flashlight beam flickers over the decaying skin, but there are no visible signs of a walker bite.

“Yeah, none that you can see,” Glenn replies, his voice shaky, still catching his breath from the struggle. He wipes his forehead, sweat and dirt smearing together.

“No,” Daryl insists, his voice firmer now. “I’m tellin’ you, he didn’t turn from a bite.” He angles the flashlight, highlighting the snapped neck, the unnatural bend in Randall’s spine. “He died from this,” Daryl says, pointing to the jagged break, the proof that someone had to have done this.

“How is that possible?” Glenn asks, his voice quiet but incredulous. They look at each other then, their eyes meeting. The weight of that truth hangs heavy in the air, unsettling. Glenn swallows hard, the realization dawning on him, the idea that someone killed the kid in cold blood gnawing at his already frayed nerves.

“Get back to the farm, Glenn,” Daryl says, his voice gruff but steady, his gaze locked on the dark woods ahead.

Glenn hesitates, his brow furrowed in concern. “But what about—” His eyes dart to the woods, worry etched into his face.

“Just go,” Daryl snaps, already moving again. There’s no time for discussion. No time for anything but finding you.

Daryl watches him disappear into the shadows, then turns his attention back to the woods, his flashlight sweeping over the darkened path. The tracks are hurried now, you’ve spun on the spot and run fast. The other pair of footsteps—larger, heavier—are right up behind you for a while. Daryl sets into a trot, following your hurried, messy, panicked steps further into the woods. There’s only one person who would follow after you like this, someone he hadn’t seen searching the barn earlier—Shane. The thought alone makes his blood run cold.

[ravenloop]

I LOVE the piece you did with god of war freyr! could I request headcanons on how he'd try woo the reader? especially if they keep accidentally friend zoning him!

>Oblivious reader is officially one of my favourite things to write lol

>Pairings: Freyr x reader

>WARNINGS!: None

𓅨

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Headcannons: Freyr trying to win your affection

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

— Freyr is absolutely the biggest player known and you cannot tell me otherwise. He's definitely been with countless of partners, and who could blame them?! He's Freyr.

— That being said, despite him being a player, he definitely falls for you. And he falls hard. I don't mean that metaphorically either, when he first met you he stared so hard he tripped face-first into the mud.

— You're the most beautiful being he's ever laid his eyes on, perfect in every way, like you were made from the very roots of Yggdrasil. And he's not shy, he tells you that straight to your face with the stupidest expression ever—he thinks he looks handsome.

— But that stupid smirk is wiped right off his face when, instead of flirting back like you were obviously supposed to do, you just tell him "Thank you!" with that gorgeous smile and walk away.

— Really? He just called you one of the most poetic things he could think of and you're going to just say thank you?! Whatever, he brushes it off and decides that he wasn't trying hard enough.

— He continues with using sweet words and compliments, buttering you up nicely with "You're looking extra radiant today" or "I love your voice", simple things. When you once again just thank him before walking away, he can feel his eye twitching. Nevermind. Perhaps it's time to take things a step further.

— If he had Ingrid at the time, he'd definitely try and gift it to you, only to be ultimately halted by Freya with a smack. He's definitely tried it with other woman in the past (and Odin).

— He starts bringing you things back from when he goes on missions every so often. They'd range from beaded necklaces to flowers he placed in your hair to jewels he found in some hidden chest. It buffs up his ego when he sees you wearing it most of the time.

— You're also the first person he talks to when he returns to camp, first person to hear the details about what he saw while out. Majority of his time in camp he spends with you. If you're ever sent out on missions, he'd try to come with you, and if he can't then he'll just send someone trusted with you.

— By now it's painfully obvious he's fawning over you like a young mortal man. Everyone in the camp can see it, everyone but the one person he wants to see it: you. As dreadful as it was to witness, everyone in camp found it too funny to really step in and help either side out.

— Up to this point he really tried to make his hints obvious, and he's sure there's no way they could be more out in the open than they already are. Eventually he gets fed up when you turned down another advance of his and just straight out yells his feelings.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

"I LOVE YOU, DAMMIT!" "Oh. As a friend or...?"

[astaroth1357]

The Brothers are Damsels in Distress!!

I was flicking through my feed, saw something and went: "But what if Rapunzel??"

Content: Hints of Fairytale AU, but on crack

Scenario: One morning, through utterly inexplicable means, a portal opens up and drops one of the brothers into a cottage-style tower straight out of a fairy tale. The whole room is enchanted so they can't break out on their own. Their only means of communication are their phones and a crystal ball they can use to see what the MC and others are doing.

How are they taking this?

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

This man is livid. Fuming. Almost apoplectic.

He has no idea what being has decided to put him in this position, but he's already planning on making them Cerberus' next chewtoy the moment he finds his freedom.

After establishing that he can't teleport out, break the walls, jump out the window, tunnel through the floorboards, or just blow up the room out of spite... he finally accepts his fate.

Lucifer... is miserable. He's doing his best to conserve his phone battery so he can still coordinate with his brothers from a distance, but watching them stumble around cluelessly through the crystal ball is honestly painful. He quite frequently shouts at the feed like a football dad screaming at a TV.

He puts all his hopes in MC and Dia coming up with something because everyone else is mostly useless... There were multiple instances where he just holds his head in his hands, resigning to the idea of being stuck there until he's just a dried out skeleton.

Even if they finally get to him, he won't be happy. He'll be humiliated by the whole affair and trying to anything in his power to save face and get out on his own as much as possible. Anyone who values their lives will forget that it ever happened in the future.

Bonus:

MC: *standing under the tower*

MC: Lucifer! Lucifer!! Let down your-gah!!

*they rub their head and feel something wet hit their fingers*

MC: Was... was that a tomato?!

MC: You know what, fuck you man!! Go help yourself!! 🤬

Mammon

He's flipping out.

An extrovert like Mammon trapped in a room like that all alone?? He'll go stir crazy in three days tops!

It took twenty minutes and 3 selfies for anyone besides the MC to believe that he was trapped in there. ... Then MC raking his brothers over the coals for them to actually start treating it like a priority. He really didn't do it to himself this time, dammit!!

Mammon's ADHD brain is already going mad after a few hours of nothing to do. MC gets piles upon piles of texts ranging from, "Are ya any closer yet??" to "MC, if ya can't get me out of here, take care of Goldie for me... my car too."

They have to reassure him multiple times that he would not, in fact, die in there if they could help it. Though after his phone goes dead from the constant spam, they do start to worry...

If there was any bright side to the situation, Mammon gets to watch his treasured MC absolutely tear his brothers a new one if any one of them so much as think about giving up or postponing the search. Their anger is truly frightening... so good thing he isn't there! Ha!!

When they finally find him, he's never lept for the MC so fast... Literally. He literally jumps. He wants out of there FAST.

Bonus:

MC: *standing under the tower*

MC: Mammon! Mammon!! Let down your-

Mammon: *leaps from the tower, knowing they'll find some way to catch him*

Mammon: FREEDOM!!!

MC: Oh dear God, don't just jump!!! 😫

Leviathan

Panicking like crazy and running around in circles. Can you even comprehend how many premieres he's going to miss like this?? The spoilers!!!

After the MC gets a hold of him through the phone and they tell him to hang tight and if he figures out where he is to let them know.

So uh... He had intends to keep his phone usage down to a minimum so he could conserve the battery life. However, he figures he could at least do his mobile game check-ins and the next thing he knows his phone dies during a weekly dungeon....

Honestly? His soul might have died along with it.

He spends a lot of time staring at the crystal ball, hoping in vain that one of his brothers will watch TV or something, anything that could give him something to do.

That was his only way of communicating with the others and, more importantly, the only source of entertainment an otaku like him could have in a room like this! Does he look like a cottagecore enthusiast?? No!!!

If anyone is in his bedroom, he'll try to zoom in on Henry's fishbowl and talk to him to decompress... He already feels like such an idiot for wasting his battery life. Henry, why is he so stupid...?

Yeah, he's going to be bored and moping until somebody comes to find him. But at least he won't mind the isolation as much so they're not too worried about him going crazy in there. He'll be fine... right?

Bouns:

MC: *standing under the tower*

MC: Leviathan! Leviathan!! Let down your-

Levi: *scrambles to the window* MC, DID YOU BRING A CHARGER?!?

MC: PRIORITIES, LEVI!!!

Satan

He is naturally furious, but also weirdly intrigued. Is this like one of those escape rooms MC sometimes talks to him about...?

Much like Lucifer, he quickly finds that trying to break through stuff wouldn't get him anywhere... as the heavy countertop he smashed into smithereens again the wall shows him.

Tantrum out of his system, Satan is probably the most rational the seven. He does his best to communicate to the others where the tower is based on the landmarks he can see, but he also uses his phone sparingly to conserve the battery.

While they all work to track him down, he keeps himself busy by listening to their plans through the crystal ball or searching for any weak points on his own, because what good would just sitting around do him?

He's surprisingly flexible. If the group plans to look for him from above, he sets out cushions on the floor just in case of any falls. If they want to look for him on foot, he makes sure to light as many candles as possible to give them a makeshift beacon to guide them.

By the time that they actually find him, he's already figured out a couple ways to help get him out depending on the possible exit points and has prepared accordingly.

Bonus:

MC: *standing under the tower*

MC: Satan! Satan!! Let down your-eh?

*they watch as a looong chain of tied together sheets, tablecloths, and towels gets tossed from the window, followed by Satan using it to calmly rappel down*

MC: U-uh.... Never mind! I guess you got this. 😅

Asmodeus

Asmo would be living his best life if only anyone could actually see him up there!

Asmo is all down for playing the role of the helpless, beautiful victim in need of rescuing but how is he supposed to pull that off if he's trapped all alone?? There's no attention! No pageantry!!

After getting the situation across to his brothers, he also kills his phone battery by posting selfies and livestreaming the situation to his adoring public. They're so scared for him, but he's not worried. MC will come find him, after all!

By the time they actually arrive to come get him, Asmo has already dolled himself up to play his newfound role perfectly.

After his phone dies, he keeps himself busy in small ways... Like practicing his relieved expression in a mirror for a few hours. Or using the curtains and his sewing skills to make himself just the cutest gown!

MC: *stand under the tower*

MC: Asmodeus! Asmodeus!! Let down your... hair...?

Asmo: ✨️COMING~!!✨️

*the MC watches as yards and yards of beautiful strawberry blonde trusses indeed gets thrown from the window above, all connected to a very hammy Asmo standing on the window sill*

MC: ... It's only been two days, how did you even grow all that?!?

Beelzebub

Very confused, upset, and hungry. Somebody please help him!!

The minute that Beel sends the message that he is trapped somewhere, it was really all hands on deck. MC and Belphie were freaking out of course, but all of his other brothers were just as worried as well. This is Beel here! He's going to be so hungry out there!!

And hungry he is. He went through an entire two weeks worth of rations stored in the room within an hour. By the end of the day, he's so mindlessly hungry that he starts taking bites out of the tables, chairs, and even his phone...

Since he can't use half of a phone, Beel has to watch his brothers work through the crystal ball while he gnats on the drapery, feeling guilty about making them all so worried...

At least this time his brothers don't argue nor fight with each other at all. Everyone understands what the priorities are and they follow whatever roles they are to the letter. They want to find him ASAP and they even take turns comforting Belphie with MC while they search.

By the time they find him, the whole family is willing to bust through the walls with pickaxes if that's what it takes to get to him. He would feel really touched by all of their efforts, but he's just so hungry... need... food.....

Bonus:

MC: *standing under the tower*

MC: Beel! BEEL!! I BROUGHT BURGERS!!!

Beel: MC... s-so hungry.... 😓

MC: You stay right there, don't move a muscle! I'm coming to you!! 😫

Belphegor

... Deja vu, right?

So this isn’t Belphie's first rodeo. He's practically a "stuffed up somewhere he can't escape from" veteran now. Though this place was more... cozy than the attic.

Call it the cow in him, but he's always had a soft spot for cottagecore. It's so homey and comforting, just perfect for lazy naps under fruit trees! The atmosphere is so relaxing...

So he naps. A LOT.

He ends up communicating a lot more sporadically with everyone than the others. Largely due to the long periods of unconsciousness. But like, could you blame him? What was he even supposed to do in there? MC would figure something out again.

Whenever he goes over to check the progress, he shoots out sarcastic texts about his brothers' dumb ideas to pass the time. It's very apparent how unconcerned he is about this from the get-go...

Does he know when they are on their way to get him? Surprisingly yes. Does he manage to stay awake until they show up? Unsurprisingly no. Go figure...

Bonus:

MC: *standing under the tower*

MC: Belphegor! Belphegor!! Let down your hair!

Belphegor: .....

MC: ... Belphie?

Belphegor: .....

MC: Bitch, are you seriously asleep?!

Belphegor: ....zzzZZzzz....

MC: ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!

[aimbutmiss]

Buggy sighed in frustration as he clenched another important document that he absolutely couldn't care less about as he tried to make sense of the words on it. Crocodile rolled his eyes at his "dramatic theatrics", as he put it. And while Buggy did indeed hold the sigh a bit longer than necessary, he could argue it was a very justified reaction. The words on the paper were basically alphabet soup in his brain as it completely shut down, unable to process any more information.

He rubbed his eyes as if that would somehow fix the problem. He felt closer to death with every second he spent inside the dreary office tent. The room was suffocating, filled with the smoke of Crocodile's never ending cigars. Buggy desperately needed fresh air and exposure to direct sunlight, or a poor crew member was going to find his corpse under all those papers by the end of the day.

"Croccy, it's been hours... How many more signatures do you need from me?"

Crocodile puffed out the smoke in his mouth as he spoke, making the air in the tent even heavier. Buggy had to hold himself back from coughing as he kept his eyes locked to the other man's unimpressed ones. "You're the one who insisted on reading all the documents when I already had done so. You could have just quickly signed all of them and left by now if you weren't so stubborn."

"Of course I have to read them! How can I trust you? You could be making me sign away my life to the slave trade for all I know!"

Crocodile laughed menacingly, the only way he knew how, as far as Buggy had seen. "No one would pay good money for you, clown. And if I wanted to sell you off I would have done it by now."

Buggy crossed his arms with a frown, ready to argue with his business partner, but he was cut by a low-ranking worker entering the tent reluctantly.

"I'm saved." He thought as Crocodile got up to talk to the poor man. He took the moment to sneak outside, limb by limb. As he put himself back together outside of the tent, he took the sunlight in with a sigh and cracked his back in relief. He was unfortunately too old and certainly too sexy for an office job. Being an Emperor was supposed to be more flashy than this god dammit!

He locked eyes with the shaky man as he left the tent, and gave him a reassuring smile. The man visibly relaxed, smiling wide as he bowed down before leaving Buggy's presence.

Buggy hated how much Crocodile ruled by fear. These were his men! He was responsible for their well-being and happiness! Well, he couldn't even protect his own well-being so how could he do the same for his enormous crew...

"Don't think so hard, your head will explode."

Buggy jumped in his place as Crocodile spoke in his ear. Too close! When had he snuck up on him? He was too tired to deal with this.

"I'm gonna go now."

"Not before you sign the papers."

"I'm tired..."

"Then don't read them."

"But I want to!"

"THEN GET BACK IN THERE!" Crocodile pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool after his outburst. "Okay, you either go in willingly or I'll drag you in there myself if I have to." He moved his hook at an angle, making the light reflect off its sharp edge menacingly. And Buggy probably should have listened, but something snapped in him.

"Stop threatening me with that damn hook of yours! You know I can't get cut."

"But you can get pierced, can't you?"

Buggy gulped, sweat forming on his forehead but not daring to drop. "... You wouldn't dare."

"And why's that?"

"Because..." Buggy stared the scary man in the eyes and was somehow overcome with boldness he couldn't explain. "Because this" he gestured to his face with exaggerated motion "is what sells your shitty personality to everyone!" He was spitting out the words like venom, emphasising every word slowly. "You need me. Certainly more than I need you. You're just an overgrown accountant, but I'm a fucking Emperor. I leave, and the thousands of men under me also leave. You are nothing without me. So stop acting like you can get rid of me without consequences. I dare you to pierce me with that hook."

"..."

Buggy smiled smugly. "I'm gonna take a nap now."

He was lighter than a feather as he made his way to his tent, the smile never dropping from his face. He did it! Well, he wasn't quite free but it was certainly a step in the right direction. And sue him, he was fucking proud of himself.

As he left with his head in the clouds, he was completely unaware of the scene he left behind him. Crocodile was fuming. He felt hot with anger and another annoying, sticky emotion eating at his insides. He completely ignored Mihawk, who had been a witness to the whole conversation.

The swordsman raised a brow in question at the man's silence. "What are you gonna do now, go masturbate?"

Crocodile stared daggers at the man before turning into sand and flowing away. And he absolutely did not masturbate to thoughts about the clown. Ridiculous Hawk Eye really thought he knew everything...

(and he did.)