#I wonder why so much infos taken out

[twig-the-edgelord]

The Amputation Experiments

Tw: gore, eye gore

The amputation experiments were the shortest (only going through 3 rounds) experiments that happened to SCP 963. It had ended abruptly due to an incident caused by Dr. Jack Richard Clementine.

The purpose of these experiments was to see how would SCP 963 react if a host that had an amputation of some kind. Given the amulets nature, it was believed that Dr. Clementine would grow a new fully functional limb/organ.

The first of which went alright:

Image taken (01/06/——) 0205

The host was a D-Class (———-), an elderly female (68), who lost her arm due to ——infection. After he had entered his host, he stated that “it will take a while to get used to this.”

Imagine taken (05/06/——) 1300

The arm had started to heal and grow like predicted. Dr. Clementine is able to feel the whole length of the limb.

Dr. Clementine has complained about phantom limbs (in addition to his usual pains gifted from bonding), though not exactly pain. “It’s more… tingly then anything else.”

It should be noted that the limbs newest muscles are incredibly weak. This could be a possible set back to the future growth and could mean that growth could stop all together.

Imagine taken (07/06/——) 0743

Dr. Clementine has finally bonded to the host. The muscles grew back quickly, and the arm is fully recovered, however it isn’t able to move. Dr. Clementine can feel anything that happens to his right arm, but cannot lift it beneath the shoulder.

Other personal have tried to assist Dr. Clementine with trying to wake up this limb but any attempt haven’t gotten any results.

Dr. Clementine has been more jumpy throughout the course of this experiment but today it seems that the light anxiety became mid emotional distress and discomfort for the future ideas of these examinations. (Now most have new hypotheses.) He has stated that “It’s fine. I’ve been though worse.” …. “No, it’s just…. It’s just annoying! It’s just hanging there. Sometimes I feel like I’ve curled my finger, and I look down and it’s just- I just-“ He refused to talk further.

The second was worse

Image removed

The host was a D class (————-) middle aged male (42), uninjured other then a first degree burn on his torso.

Dr. Clementine seemed to be unenthusiastic about the round, but willingly agreed to continue with the experiment.

Image taken (17/06/——) 8037

Dr. Clementine has admitted to not have eaten earlier the past few days, which in this case might be better for him, as it was the day of the surgery. It’s important to do it in the early stages of bonding.[

] afterwards he complains of sharp pains. He was not awake. He was not awake.

Image removed

The leg appears to be healing normally, if not better then how his previous hosts arm healed. Though there is redness around the surgical scar, it doesn’t seem to be infected nor is it dangerous to his health.

Dr. Clementine reports that he felt nauseous, and anxiety ridden.

“God, you all suck.” It was clear that he was intoxicated when he said this, which didn’t seem to effect the healing nor the bonding with his host. He possibly later sent a death threat to Dr. Glass.

Imagine removed

The limb had nearly fully completely regrown, though it’s not hopeful that it will work, as it seems to be suffering from the same limpness the previous hosts arm had. Dr. Clementine has complained that the skin is burning near to where it was amputated.

Dr. Clementine was scheduled to visit SCP 590, but he canceled it stating: “I just don’t want to risk anything. After last week he needs a break.” Referring to incident——— in which SCP 682 breached contaminated.

There is talk about ending this round early.

Image removed

[ ]

Image taken (20/06/——)0039

The host was a D-class (——), a male in their early twenties (24), they lost their right eye due to an opponent wearing a ring in a fight. After Dr. Clementine entered the host, he seemed uncomfortable and finicky. “Think a marble would work to replace it?”

Image removed

The eye isn’t growing correctly. It seems to be infected. He states that he cannot see out of it. “It’s just kinda dark and… I can see the lights and stuff…”

It should be noted that he looks slightly dishevelled, though that could be because of the host change.

Imagine taken (27/06——) 0535

The eye didn’t regrow as expected. It’s incredibly red, and the pupil doesn’t dilate, nor does it move, even if it’s being touched at. “It burns pretty bad. If I go on to not blink for a bit, it gets worse.”

He has started wearing an eye patch so other personal won’t get infected in case his eye is contagious.

Image removed Image removed Image removed

The experiments had to be ended on (27/06/——) 1300.

Dr. Clementine had entered his office at 1054. He had gotten a calligraphy pen and proceeded to stab out his eye. Taking it out chunk by chunk.

He was found around 1145, apparently sitting in his desk chair, doing paperwork, while holding his eye socket with a paper towel. He was allegedly muttering about maggots.

Dr. Clementine is currently in the medical wing and will most likely lose his host privileges for the next little while. Though there is discussion on what will happen to him, the amputation experiments have been suspended.

[pomefioredove]

if its ok can i request a overblot boys and ruggie and kamil with a reader that just forgets to eat? like they can go the whole day without eating then suddenly they just get dizzy cause they haven't eaten and when they get asked why they passed out/not ate they're like "lol yeah i forgot to eat my bad gang🧍🏻" they're just so nonchalant and act like its whatever😭its ok if not if this makes you uncomfortable!! Love your blog pookie and make sure YOU eat properly💥💥

ahh... just like me fr. this ask actually reminded me to eat, thank you!

summary: reader who forgets to eat type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, mentions of food and not eating!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle is also guilty of this

it's not that he's neglectful, it's just that...

...well... he's a little neglectful

it's usually Trey who has to remind him to take breaks from studying

none of that will stop him from scolding you, though

"What were you thinking, going a whole day without a meal? It's no wonder you're always so tired!"

expect lots of snacks from him after he's done berating you

he sends someone every day to make sure you've had something

(both a blessing and a curse)

you'll be in your room then suddenly Che'nya is there asking if you had lunch yet

and if not, you'll be recieving an invitation to Heartslabyul for tea

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona can't be bothered to ask why you're always so... out of it

he just assumes that's your personality

he even teases you for it, once or twice

then Jack offhandedly mentions that you rarely eat until dinner, and he gets all... worried

Ugh

suddenly, his room is always stocked with your favorite snacks from Sam's

what? no, they're not for you. he's just taken a liking to 'em. but you're welcome to have some if you'd like

his act is unconvincing

"What? Stop looking at me like that. I'm not some sap. I'm just making sure you don't go passing out on me,"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie is worried that Crowley's cut your food rations

he'd been mooching off of you for a few months now, after all

plus, he knows what it's like to go hungry

of course, he doesn't outright ask. he doesn't want to embarrass you or anything

he just... casually offers to split meals and comes over once a week with half of his forage greens

"What, this? Nah, I just had extra. What, you're complaining about free food? Shishishi,"

you repay the gesture by making him a few meals, and it becomes a little tradition between the two of you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

why, oh why, does Azul have to care about you so much?

he's become familiar that exact look on your face; distant, dizzy, disoriented...

and he's caught himself mid-scold far too many times

"Have you no sense of self-preservation? You can't keep relying on others to care for you; you'll only be taken advantage of,"

...and, of course, he's the poor soul who cares for you

he convinces himself that verbal reminders cost nothing

then he starts sending the tweels to make sure you've eaten

and then he insists you drop by the Mostro Lounge at least once a day

it's not that he's giving you his time and energy for free

he's just making an investment in you!

that's it. NOTHING ELSE! (<- lies)

(cue tweels giggling in the background)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Jamil

first Kalim, and now he has you to worry about, too?

of course; he has no obligation to help. that's what he tells himself

nothing will happen if he just ignores you

...except that sinking feeling in his stomach

Sevens, help him...

he starts letting you help around the kitchen

just... tidying up, doing the dishes, etc

and if you happen to want a bite of what he's cooking? ohoho, who is he to deny you the chance to test for poison?

(feigns to mention that these dishes have already been tasted)

"Good? Why, I'm flattered. You're welcome to help any time- how about tomorrow?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim will never pass a chance to host

you offhandedly mention that you forget to eat sometimes? just come over for breakfast!

and lunch

and dinner!

and you'll stay for dessert, too, won't you?

he's nothing if not gracious, and he has a penchant for taking care of others

he likes feeling useful, after all

just be ready to give him your full thoughts and feelings on every dish; he's already making a mental list of your favorites to serve every time you come over

"Hungry? No problem! We have all your faves waiting for you. What music do you want to listen to while we eat?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you know that Vil loves you, right?

so, so much?

good. because that love makes him want to shake you

of all the stupid things...

it's no use trying to hide it from him; you could look and act completely normal and he'd still see right through you

he can just tell

he has to restrain himself from threatening Crowley into letting you stay at Pomefiore so he can care for you

Vil believes you're capable, after all. you just need a little push

"I've set a daily reminder and stocked your kitchen. Remember that some food is better than none. If you need me for anything, I'll see to it as soon as possible,"

you can expect Epel and Rook to ask if you've eaten, on his behalf, every time you run into each other

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia sets like, 30 reminders in your phone

he knows as well as you do that three measly alarms won't be enough

...he, too, is guilty of forgetting to eat

he probably makes you a custom alarm sound and everything

a little pavlovian conditioning never hurt anyone, right? it's basically no different than training an AI

...or something like that

will send Ortho over to check your vitals every once in a while

"it's NBD. can't have u losing all your lives on me. who would tolerate me then?"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

thank your lucky stars it's Malleus who notices your drowsiness first and not Lilia

Malleus, at least, will find you something edible to eat

he's trying to keep you alive, after all

he's very sweet and gentle about it

soft little reminders, nudges to keep you awake... he will up and leave a dorm meeting if he realizes he doesn't know if you'd had anything yet today

Malleus is very conscious about human mortality, and is very... delicate about it

he's just a little overprotective, that's all

it mostly comes to sharing little treats together every now and then. it feels less awkward when you're together, after all

"There is no need to thank me. I'm simply happy to spend my time with you,"

[rad-batson]

AU where Billy Batson is investigating some random magic issue because his powers have been depleted as a consequence, meaning he temporarily can’t be Captain Marvel, but he somehow accidentally tips off Zatanna who’s working in the watchtower that day. She senses the sudden lack of magic in Fawcett City and tries to contact Marvel to warn him, but he can’t be reached so she calls up a few members of the JL to check it out because they want to make sure he’s okay.

Batman, Zatanna, The Flash, and Wonder Woman start wandering through Fawcett with no plan, just looking for some kind of sign that Cap is nearby, when they see this kid in a tattered red hoodie open a PORTAL, and they’re like what the fuck?! So they slip through the portal right before it closes and suddenly they’re in this infinite magical cave, and the boy is pissed. And he’s really not open to questions.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“None of your business.”

“Where are we?”

“Also none of your business.”

The heroes aren’t idiots, though. They know this kid has something to do with Cap’s disappearance, so they ask him questions until he finally gets tired of them and says, “I’m his…protégé.”

“Cap has a protégé?”

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Prove it.”

“Superman works as a news reporter at the Daily Planet.”

“…Oh shit.”

Batman tries to talk to him about how he shouldn’t know this kind of stuff but the kid hits him back with, “You have like ten kids who know everyone’s identities too. Why are Captain Marvel and I suddenly breaking protocol?” Point taken.

So now there’s this magical kid who’s apparently in line to become the next Champion of Magic who knows all of the JL’s secrets through Captain Marvel, and they still don’t know WHERE Cap is so they take him back to the watchtower and try to get as much info from him as possible. It only makes them more confused.

“Where is Captain Marvel?”

“He’s stuck in eternity.”

“What does that mean?”

“He doesn’t have a corporeal form right now.”

“He- what the fuck? How did that happen?”

“His powers were depleted after a big fight last week.”

“But is that reversible?”

“That’s what I was working on.”

“And what were you doing, exactly?”

“I was…trying to help him get his strength back.”

“Okay? How can we help?”

“Umm, you can’t.”

“Is he okay? In eternity?”

“Yeah yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“How do you know he’s okay?”

“We…have a…shared consciousness?”

“Excuse me??”

“I take it back.”

“You can’t just take that back?!“

“It’s Champion of Magic stuff, okay?! You wouldn’t understand!”

The kid’s story just keeps getting weirder and weirder until he refuses to answer questions, leaving them more in the dark than they were before.

[antifainternational]

For quite a long time, I have wanted to become involved on the street level with an anti-fascist organization/group, but that became a lot harder to do once antifa became something more publicly known. Infiltration by government and law-enforcement became a fear. What is something I can do on my own? Do you have any tips on infiltrating right wing spaces online and monitoring them?

DO WE EVER!!! First off: yes, we recognize that it's often difficult to join existing anti-fascist groups, because thanks to having to both deal with state repression and death threats from fascists, anti-fascists have to be a lot more careful these days about who they let in to their crews and work with. But that's not to say that no antifa group would accept new members! Here is our advice about how to find and approach a local antifa crew you're interested in joining or working with, or, if that doesn't work out, how to start your own! Second off: there are two requirements to become "antifa:" a) you have to oppose fascism b) you have to be willing to do something about it That's it! If you can say yes to a) & b) then you are antifa, my friend! Thirdly and related to b): if you're wondering what you can do to put your anti-fascist beliefs into action, we have a list of 30 anti-fascist actions that we believe just about anyone could pull off (maybe with the help of a couple of friends in some cases). Check out the list, pick something that sounds easy to do, do the thing, evaluate how it went/how it could've gone better, then do it again or move on to the next thing! Don't like any of our ideas? Spencer Sunshine x PopMob did a 'zine a while back called 40 Ways To Fight Fascists - find some inspiration in there! Still not inspired? Take a deep dive through our archive to find out what other anti-fascists elsewhere have been up to. Note here: even if the action you take seems small & insignificant, believe us when we say that it's not. The smallest action signals to others that anti-fascists are active in the area and may inspire others to act as well. Lots of small actions in one area, over time can lead to bigger and better things! Finally: we get that infiltrating & monitoring the far-right seems like a logical place to start. But we would not recommend that as a starting point for any anti-fascist. Why? -that's some of the most dangerous work you can get involved in and without the right experience, training, and security precautions you can put yourself, your family, and your friends in a lot of danger. To do this properly, weeks of preparation have to happen, to maximize your online/IRL security and establish a credible cover/sock puppet. -even if you were able to safely & successfully infiltrate & monitor a far-right/fascist group, what are you going to do with the info? It's not of much value unless you've established relationships with other anti-fascists in the area and have a plan in place about how the info collected gets used. So basically, a lot of first steps need to be taken before jumping to "I'm going to infiltrate & monitor a far-right extremist group!" Again, we'd recommend picking some antifa actions to pull off first and building off of those first. Good luck & feel free to let us know how it goes!

[fluentmoviequoter]

hiiiii ♡ would be able to write something where reader is Jason Todd's girlfriend, friends to lovers situation so they've known each other a long time but she doesn't know about any of the vigilante stuff, And one day she's late making her way back to thier apartment but Jason is also making his way home but he's still in all the Redhood gear and reader bumps into him and is absolutely terrified out of her mind like just in complete terror of him. And she runs home and locks the doors and the windows and is a little shaken up. Jason finally arrives home obviously not as redhood lol And anyway he has to comfort her and just how would he react knowing that he scared the shit out of her and that she's this much afraid of redhood

Hi!! Of course! This is my first Jason Todd request and I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart!! I love him so much and this is an incredible idea. I added my own spin to the ending, but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, Dick Grayson is nosy

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: This isn't a specific adaptation/characterization of Jason Todd, but I do mention that he's built like a brick wall, so it's probably not Titans!Jason. The gif fit, though, so. If anyone has more Jason Todd requests, please send them!

PART 2 - Love, The Man Under the Hood >

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

The Man Under the Hood

“Are you going to tell her?” Dick asks, raising his gloved hand for Jason to hit.

“I don’t know,” Jason grunts between punches.

“She stayed through everything else.”

“We were friends then, it was different.”

Dick drops his hands, and Jason sighs, lowering his guard. Jason raises his eyebrows, preparing for one of Dick’s infamous lectures.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Dick begins before laughing at Jason’s surprised look. “I’m really not, but you’ve known her for a very long time. Just, don’t wait too long, because then it just looks like you don’t trust her.”

“It was different for you. Nightwing wasn’t feared. Telling her that I’m Red Hood tells her that I’ve done things that- that most people never consider.”

“She loves you. As you make the decision, just remember that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Growing up in Gotham and playing in the streets (even when you shouldn’t have) introduced you to Jason Todd very early. He quickly became your friend, and when you lost him, you were finally ready to admit you loved him. But it was too late. The feelings that you were trying to navigate multiplied tenfold, and every time you pass his grave, they come back to the surface.

The cemetery is on your way home, and sometimes you can’t help but walk in. You can navigate to his headstone with your eyes closed, and everything else drifts away as you stare at his name.

“There’s a joke about the morbidity of this somewhere, I just know it."

Two large hands land on your waist, turning you around and pulling you into a kiss that takes your breath away. Breaking the kiss, you wonder what life would be like if Jason had never disappeared.

“Sorry,” you murmur. Kissing Jason is new and still catches you off guard, like you’re dreaming.

“Don’t apologize,” Jason whispers, brushing his fingers across your cheekbone. “Of all the places to hang out,” he adds with a bright smile.

“Why didn’t Bruce get it taken down?”

Jason shrugs. “The reminder? The idea that something else could happen. I really don’t know,” Jason half lies. He isn’t ready to tell you that he really did die and is happy to let you think it was just a ransom kidnapping gone wrong.

“What?” you ask, pressing your palms against his chest. “You disappeared into that pretty head again.”

“I’m just glad we’re finally more than friends,” Jason says, pressing his lips to yours.

“Me too,” you reply against his lips.

You’ve been friends much longer than lovers, so spending time together is not new, but being able to touch, kiss, and tell him what you feel is. While you think about how much you like the newness, Jason struggles to decide when or if to expose who he is.

He trusts you; he does, but he doesn’t want to scare you away or put a target on your back. Nightmares about you finding out and leaving while he’s gone plagued him for months after returning to Gotham and seeing you again. 

“Do you have to go back to the manor yet?”

Jason shakes his head, looping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for a few more hours.”

“Oh no.”

Jason pulls you against his side, smiling as he kisses the top of your head.

Not yet, he decides. Not never, just not yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason feels Dick’s eyes on the side of his mask, a distorted sigh leaking out.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“You didn’t tell her,” Dick – Nightwing – accuses.

“We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Wing.”

“They can wait. Right, criminals?” Dick asks over his shoulder.

“Sure,” one of them answers, a batarang through his jacket keeping him stuck to an alley wall. “Take your time.”

Dick raises his hands to ask, “Why?”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell me what to do,” Jason sighs.

“Changed my mind. Look, I obviously understand the purpose of secret identities, but you love her, and she deserves to know.”

“You haven’t told your girl?” the thief asks. “Why not?”

“Shut up,” Jason growls through the hood.

“What are you really scared of?” Dick whispers before turning away.

Jason and Dick leave the criminal in the alley when police sirens approach, finding a rooftop to wait on. Gotham is never quiet for long, and breaks on patrol are few and far between.

“I’m going to tell her,” Dick announces. “Not about you. About me. Maybe that will convince you.”

“Don’t.”

“Jaybird.”

“Don’t ‘Jaybird’ me, Dick,” Jason argues, standing and pacing. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with here. You tell Babs you’re Nightwing and she says, ‘Oh, wow, thanks for keeping us safe.’ I tell the woman that I love that I’m Red Hood and her first thought is the duffel bag fiasco, or the suicide spike at Arkham, nothing about me being a savior.”

“Everyone in Gotham knows that you’re not like that anymore. Besides, knowing that you did something bad isn’t a make-or-break situation.”

“Begging for forgiveness won’t do much if she leaves while I’m on patrol.”

Dick tilts his head toward Jason. “You’ve thought about this.”

Jason flexes his arms as he links his hands behind his neck. “Every time I consider doing it, I have a nightmare about her leaving.”

“You’re letting a nightmare control you, Jay.”

“Just- give me a little time, Dick. I can protect her from everything without telling her. Me included.”

“What if she doesn’t want to be protected from you? What if she wants you as you are?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason can’t remember the last time he was this tired after patrol. Damian had too much sugar or something and drug Jason all over Gotham. He needs to see you, and as Red Hood makes his way through the streets of Gotham, Jason keeps his mind on you, prepared to ditch the helmet and hold you until he can’t anymore.

Meanwhile, you’re walking home from work. Jason likes to be on the phone with you while you walk alone, but it’s late, and he’s probably at a family dinner. Looking down at your phone, you have a short message from him, but before you read it, you walk into what feels like a brick wall.

Gloved hands grip your biceps to keep you upright, and when you look up, you see the infamous Red Hood looming over you. Your mind wavers between fight and flight as you try not to scream, leaning away with wide eyes. You swallow harshly, and the eye slits of the mask fix themselves on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You flinch back at the sound of his voice, and his hands immediately fall away from you. Falling back, you catch yourself on your hands and scoot backward, terrified of what he’ll do to you. Red Hood has been working with the bats and birds, but the memory of what he was like before still looms over Gotham like the rain clouds that never dissipate.

He steps back, moving his hand toward his belt, and you gasp, freezing where you are.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, standing slowly. “Please don’t hurt me.”

It’s Red Hood’s turn to freeze, and unknown to you, Jason is falling apart under the mask. The pure terror in your eyes is the exact thing he’s been trying to keep you from.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” he rushes to say, leaving his hands where you can see them. “I’m not going to touch you.”

You nod slowly, moving backward as you clearly don’t believe him. Once you reach the corner, you turn and run. If he wanted to follow you, he could do so with no problem, but you don’t spare a glance over your shoulder as you run as fast as you can toward your home.

Jason’s shoulders drop as he watches you run, beating himself up for everything: for not telling you, for scaring you, and for putting you in this position. He can’t tell you now; he missed his chance, and there’s no way you’ll want him. His nightmare is coming to life around him, and he can’t wake up.

Your phone is lying on the ground, and Jason stoops to pick it up, slipping it into his pocket. Maybe you’ll still want to see Jason tonight. If someone like him can be so lucky.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your keys slip from your fingers several times as you struggle to unlock your door. Panting and blinking quickly to keep your tears from falling, you finally open the door, and once you're inside, slam it behind you and lock all three deadbolts.

Leaning against the door, you slide down it and hug yourself, wishing you had picked up your phone. You want to call Jason; you need him, but hopefully, he’ll come over when he can.

Something flies past your window, and you leap to your feet, walking through every room to ensure all the windows are locked. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason takes his time following you. He can move quickly, especially for a guy his size, but after seeing how you looked at Red Hood, at him, he’s more than happy to go a little slower. Taking the long way, he drops his stuff off at his place, keeping your phone in his pocket.

As he walks, he wonders what to say or do to convince you to stay. Sure, you were terrified of Red Hood, not Jason Todd, but the two are not mutually exclusive and never will be. Part of him wants to take Dick’s advice and tell you, but the idea of it not working (or ending like he thinks he will) makes the decision impossible.

He takes a deep breath before knocking on your door, and when there’s no answer or footsteps inside, he hits the door again, saying your name.

“It’s me,” he adds.

Your footsteps sound before three deadbolts click. Opening the door, you move into the hallway to hug Jason tightly. He returns the hug, pulling you up against him as he carries you inside and closes the door behind him. Flipping all the deadbolts, he knows he can keep you safer than they ever could, but that requires trust. Trust from you and from him.

As you cling to him, his heart is torn between leaving you before he scares you again or comforting you all night. When you adjust your grip on him, pressing your cheek against his pec just above your heart, Jason decides to stay. 

If she’s this afraid of Red Hood, what will she do when she finds out who he is? Jason wonders.

Pushing the thoughts away, Jason holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back while the other rests against your hip. The weight of his arms against you is comforting, and you focus on his heartbeat and the sound of his voice.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Take a few deep breaths.”

You do as he says, attempting to match your breaths to his. It takes several minutes, but your heart rate slows as your breath evens out.

“Thank you,” you say, moving your chin against his chest to look up at him.

He smiles, though his lips stay together, and it’s not as big as usual, running a hand over your hair.

“Can I- can I talk to you about what happened?” you ask, leaning into his touch.

He nods, and something akin to dread flashes through his eyes. You write it off as nervousness that you were hurt or threatened, which wouldn’t be unbelievable in Gotham.

“I was walking home, I got off late but didn’t want to call you and bother you.”

Jason wonders how different things would be if you had called, but rather than interrupting, he nods to acknowledge he’s listening.

“Then I turned into an alley, and I bumped into Red Hood. And, I mean, I know he’s not the same as when he first arrived in Gotham.”

Hope blooms in Jason’s chest at your words.

“He works with Batman, and Nightwing, and the rest of them, and they’re good. I’ve heard from my coworkers who live in the Hill that he’s making a difference, for good, but,” you trail off, looking away from Jason as you shatter his hope that you see a different side of Red Hood. 

“But what?” he asks quietly.

You shrug, and Jason takes the opportunity to move. He pulls you with him as he sits up, tugging you into his lap as you look up at him. His arms wrap around your waist as his fingers brush up and down against your side.

“I think the reason he scared me so much is that there’s no way to tell what he’s thinking. The rest of them, you can see part of their face, but he hides everything. And he’s just so big, I looked up and felt so small that I knew if he wanted to hurt me, he could.”

He would never hurt you, Jason thinks.

“I guess I didn’t like being in that position where I knew he could do anything but had no way of knowing if he would.”

Jason leans back toward the back of the couch. The fear that you’re expressing is based on reasons that apply to him, the man under the mask.

“You got scared because he’s so big? And unreadable?” Jason clarifies, applying the adjectives to himself.

Your eyes are fixed on him, dropping to his shoulders and waist quickly, looking at his build (and noticing the shape of a phone in his pocket, aware that he set his to the side to hold you) before you hum. “Kinda like you,” you muse quietly.

Jason’s brows furrow, and you move your arms, causing Jason to drop one arm to his side.

You watch his movement, then look into his eyes. You lean toward him and smile, cocking your head as you ask, “But you can protect me. Right, red?”

[anjelicawrites]

The one looking out for you

Paring: dark!Michael Gavey x fem!reader Synopsis: fill for this ask: “Hii can I request a dark Michael gavey x fem reader smut where they're coworkers and reader don't really know Michael because he works in IT and they only pass each other here and there but Michael is obsess with reader and one day he overhears reader telling a coworker that she's ovulating but her fiancé (who's been cheating on her without her knowledge) is out of town and they've been trying for a baby. Michael digs up dirt on her fiance and leaks the info anonymously and then he "coincidently" finds her crying and kinda drunk and he "comforts" reader”. Warnings: NONCON (reader is drunk while having sex), rape, rape drugs, stalking, obsession, sexist language, fatphobia, pictures and videos taken without reader’s consent, vomiting, alcohol usage, reader being drunk, p in v sex, chocking, titty sucking, fingering, creampie, baby trapping, breeding kink, lactation kink, talk of reader reduced to a basement wife, talk of pregnancy sex. A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, she/her pronouns used.

Michael knows how special you are, how gentle you heart is; he sees you in all the ways other people don’t. Some might call his behavior obsessive, stalkerish even, but the world doesn’t understand that, when you finally find your person, you need to take all the necessary steps to keep that person safe. Take today, for example. You had worked overtime, your team leader needing your expertise for the latest company project, and are going home just now, after 9 pm on a cold winter night. You should wait for the bus, or hail a cab, but you’re too tired to wait and just want to go home thus cutting through the city park. Michael knows because he’s following the GPS of your phone, to make sure nothing happens to you, and is using the speakers of your phone to hear what’s happening around you and call the cops if someone tries to approach you.

He shouldn’t have cloned your phone, he knows it’s frowned upon, but you pull shit like this: how is he supposed to keep you safe? You are too gentle, too trusting of the world and in need of a protector, someone who will really look after you, not like your useless fiancé, who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve, nor he loves you, otherwise he wouldn’t be having an affair with the girl living in the next door apartment. The discovery had been casual, the Trojan he used to clone your phone had infected your fiancé’s as well and Michael had been the unwilling witness to his sexual escapades with that whore. He had been so disgusted by the way the asshole talked about you, that he would have disconnected from the phone, if he wasn’t digging for dirt on him.

Michael knows he’s invisible, he’s always been: no friends, no girlfriend, only him and his brilliant mind; when he was younger he had suffered because no one acknowledged him, now he understands he has a superpower that helps him navigate corporate life, absorbing all the relevant information, without anyone realizing what he’s doing.

You greet him whenever you stumble upon him in the corridors, still grateful he solved a computer issue you had the day of a big presentation, the reason why he’s met you in the first place and every gentle smile you direct his way, adds fuel to the fire of his obsession. He’s racked his own brains for days, after that first fateful encounter, wondering how he could start a conversation with you, cloning your phone had been the only way he thought he could find something you two had in common. It saved him a gaffe, when he saw all the photos with your fiancé, and gave him so much insight inside your brain, to understand you were the woman for him; of course you are far more creative that he’ll ever be, your soul gentler than his, but you are smart and being so different will only add to you two’s relationship, once he’s gotten rid of your boyfriend.

Michael is working on the new firewall, hidden in his own basement office. He’s thankful that the other IT people are misanthropes as he is and don’t mind that he’s working with his headphones on, on the contrary, everyone is wearing headgear to focus better on their task, the difference being, he’s listening to you. Your day is slow, with the big project finished, you and your team can kick back a bit, have a chat while ironing the last wrinkles.

Michael has been listening while you were chatting with that stupid cow, Marissa, about the last movie you’ve watched at that theater that shows mostly old black and white flicks; Michael has managed to garner quite the knowledge about old time Hollywood and Cinecittà and has discovered a fondness for old Hammer movies himself, even though the movies he prefers the most star you while you’re pleasuring yourself (something you’re doing quite frequently, since the asshole doesn’t seem to be that interested in you anymore), the theater? Your webcam and your apartment.

His focuses his attention when you go to have a coffee with your ‘work wife’ Jenny; through your phone he hears that you two are going downstairs, to the cafeteria of the building: one day you and him will do the same, pick a place to call your own, just to have a break. You have only bought your phone with you, it’s easy for him to listen to the inane chat, even though the cafeteria is packed; he’s not truly focusing on the conversation, just to the sound of your lovely voice as you wait for your coffee (espresso, a splash of oat milk and half sugar) and your favorite pastry (pain au chocolat, vegan); it’s when the asshole’s name drops that he stops working and focus only on you.

“You know we’ve been trying truly hard, at least we used to.” You say with a defeated tone he doesn’t like. “Then we stopped for his big project, I understand that he couldn’t follow that and my hormonal cycle.”

Michael grits his teeth; he’s been looking out for you for the better part of the year, before? He wasn’t your guardian angel and it had been difficult for him to put together the pieces, since you don’t use that many apps to store your personal life and information.

“Wait.” Jenny stops you. “Wasn’t he the one who wanted to start trying again?” “Yes.” From your tone only Michael can imagine you pinching the bridge of your nose. “He’s been repeating me to check my ovulation, write everything down or use those pregnancy like sticks, and what does he do the weekend I am at my peak? Leaves for work!”

Michael has to clench his fists when he understands what you and Jenny are talking about: children. You and the asshole having a baby!

Michael has to leave his small office and storms to the bathroom where he can pace around like a caged beast: that son of a bitch wants to knock you up, while he’s having an affair with the whore next door?

Calm, he tells himself, you need to stay calm and focused.

“What kind of trip is that?” He hears Jenny ask. “Work. His firm is trying to promote a new kind of prosthesis during this orthopedics conference; he has to be there.” “Why can’t you go with him? Take the weekend off? You wouldn’t be the only partner to go, I think”. “There have been some issues.” Your voice lowers conspiratorially. “Some of his colleagues had gone with their mistresses, on firm expenses and now all family members are banned from going.” “Hmm.” Jenny doesn’t seem too convinced. “Are you sure he wants to truly try?

Michael hears you sigh and wished he was there, not in this stupid bathroom!

“We are more distant. I keep telling myself that we had to both work on big projects at the same time, that we were forced to focus on work more than we would have liked and that, after the storm, things would go back to normal.”

Michael hears you sniff and the soft sound of Jenny’s hand on yours.

“What’s your gut feeling, love?” She asks, with a quiet voice. “That is not a storm and that he’s asked to try for a baby again because he doesn’t know how to handle all of this.” “Perhaps him going away for the weekend isn’t such a bad thing.”

Michael likes Jenny, she’s smart, calls IT only when she has a real issue and treats all of them like they are people, not the weird nerds hiding in the basement; he reckons Jenny is a bit of a nerd as well, based on the Star Trek knickknacks on her desk. Yes, when you and him are together, she’s one of the friends he’ll advise you to stick with: you’ll have to drop many of them, too stupid for you, and for him, but not Jenny, she can stay.

Michael hides in one of the stalls and opens the secret app on his phone where he keeps all your photos and videos. Some are racy, you pleasuring yourself using your favorite dildo and clit sucker, your sobs of pleasure going straight to his cock every time, but that’s not what he is looking for as his thumb swipes through all the pics he has, until he’s found the one he loves the most: you on the sofa, dressed in an oversized jumper, as you read your book. You look homely, the picture of what he wants your lives to be: quiet and filled with each other’s presence, you two don’t need anyone else, Or perhaps...

His mind goes back to the conversation he’s just heard. Michael doesn’t truly care for children but for you? He’ll give you a soccer team of babies if only you asked, fuck you full of his cum until he’s sure he’s bred you, only to fuck you some more once you’re full. His finger slides through the photos until he finds one of you in your bathing suit, just to imagine your tummy full of his child and your breast swollen with milk, begging to be sucked: yeah, the idea of knocking you up becomes more and more appealing as the minutes pass. He just needs to make sure the asshole doesn’t manage before he does.

Michael goes back to his cubicle with a lighter heart, now that he knows what the stakes are; he even whistles his favorite song as he orders a bouquet of the flowers you love (white callas and light pink lilies), to have them sent to your workstation: this has been his only outward way to express his feelings for you and today you need something nice to look at, after your heartfelt conversation with Jenny. As he focuses again on the firewall, Michael mentally pats himself on the back for having cloned the asshole's phone by mistake: you will have to know what is going on, it will hurt you, but he’s going to be there for you, unlike your fiancé.

Later that night, Michael is storing all he has on the asshole on the USB pen he’s bought on the way back to his small apartment; as one of the computers is working on the background, out of curiosity he checks if what the asshole has told you about the ban on partners going to conventions is true or not: if he’s lying, he’s going to add to the mountain of proofs he has, if not, well, it means that even him plays fair sometimes.

He stares at the desktop, before clicking on his browser icon: obviously is a picture of you, a selfie you’ve taken on holiday; you look so relaxed and happy, the shadows the straw hat you’re wearing paint on the skin of your cleavage are so elegant: he’s never met a woman who can be classy even when wearing a skimpy bikini. You are truly a Goddess among your kind, the best and the smartest, created just for him. He hopes you’ll let him snap racy pictures of you, once you two are together; nothing obscene or pornographic, just to celebrate your beauty and grace. Michael thinks he will be able to convince you, otherwise something in your water to make sure you’re pliant will make do.

You don’t want to be at this stupid office party. Yes, your last project was a success, all your colleagues want to celebrate, but you are in no mood, thanks to your cheating, asshole of a boyfriend.

You don’t know who sent you the USB pen, you’re not sure you’ll ever thank them for opening your eyes, but the truth is in front of you and you have no way to stop knowing what has been happening behind your back; given the chance, would you rather not have received the envelope and the USB? Nursing your umpteenth cocktail you’re not sure of the answer.

The envelope was white and lacked a return address, which was unusual but not overly so: the local Catholic Church leaves leaflets when Christmas and Easter are near, to promote the activities during these periods of time, never envelopes but you thought they were changing their strategies and opened it once you were home, alone as usual. The USB had surprised you, the printout of the reservation made of your fiancé and the girl next door, for the conference, propelled you to the bathroom, where you threw up your lunch and afternoon snack.

There was another message, smaller, that invited you to check the USB pen in your hand, if you wanted to know the truth; you stayed rooted on the spot for the longest time, torn between wanting to ignore everything, or let the bomb explode. Time passed, punctuated by the old clock in the kitchen, until you made up your mind, and choose the latter, you’re a daughter of Pandora after all, and plugged the USB in your computer: a barrage of text, photos and audio messages attacked you, you managed to go through a small percentage of them, before you had to run to the bathroom to throw up again, your stomach churning bile until you had nothing left to give. After this onslaught you cried with your knees tight against your chest, until you felt so tired you’d sleep on the cold bathroom floor, but you forced yourself to go back to the living room and went through all the proofs of your fiancé’s infidelity with the whore next door.

You didin’t know your personal guardian angel was listening to everything and looking using the smart TV you’ve bought last year. Michael’s heart hurt with your pain, he wished he was there to comfort you; if only you had waited for him, instead of being with the asshole, he wouldn’t have to make you go through all of this. It was your fault for not having faith that your true love was waiting for you: you’ll go through this cathartic experience and then be free to start your new life, the one Michael will tailor for you, and for himself.

With gritted teeth he watched the fight you have with the asshole, all the excuses he spewed, and then the insults against you, before he left slamming the door. He saw you angrily drink and cry until you passed out on the couch and he stayed up all night, watching you through the TV to make sure you were still breathing. It hurt him that you were hurt, but it was the price to pay for a better future.

You have been on autopilot for the rest of the week: went to work, where you used a mere fraction of your attention on the last details of the finished project, and then returned home to cry. You fiancé, better, former fiancé at this point, didn’t even try to patch things up with you, on Thursday, after you returned from work, all his stuff had disappeared and he hadn’t even left a note or sent you a message. You truly spiraled after that, called your best friend and wept on the phone for hours, until you head hurt; on a whim you had even thought about not going to work on Friday, but you couldn’t, not with the presentation of the bloody project and the celebration party afterwards. You decided to settle with finishing the alcohol at home and sent disparaging texts to your ex, who never answered them (little you knew that your own guardian angel had to do with that, and with the fact that he had disappeared with all his belongings; that was not something Michael thought you needed to worry your pretty head with).

You played your part on Friday, said your little spiel and shook hands on command, wore a fake smile for everyone to see, until you could hide in the conference room, nursing glasses after glasses of cheap alcohol, until you felt like enough time had passed to return home.

You’re sitting at the big desk, facing morosely the incredible view from such a high floor, with a glass and bottle you’ve taken from the open bar. You’re drunk, it's so easy to ignore the little voice in your head that’s telling you to stop, call a Uber and go home when your tummy is sloshing with alcohol. You’re so detached from your body that the door opening with a small creak doesn’t scare you.

“I thought nobody was here.”

You turn your head slowly and feel the strain of your eyes as they focus on the intruder. On first sight you don’t recognize him, then his name comes back to you Michael, one of the IT guys who solves all your technical issues. You’ve met him a couple of times, once when Marissa had some issued with her computer. You had felt bad for the guy, who had to come upstairs to simply turn the switch Marissa had swore was already on the right position. He had said something nasty about your colleague under his breath, ‘vapid cunt’, or something among those lines, as he was leaving. You didn’t approve of his language, but understood his frustration: he probably had to deal with stupid accidents like that all the time, his patience must have slipped; you had stopped him before he entered the lift and said you were sorry on your colleague’s behalf. You could have sworn his eyes had focused on you, behind his tick glasses, as if he was assessing you, judging you, but it was just a moment, then his blue eyes seemed to clear and you had repeated yourself that you have been consuming too much true crime, if such an innocuous man could cause weird thoughts in your head.

You had seen him around, he had saved your arse when your computer stopped working the day of a big presentation, tall and gangly, and always greeted him with a smile and a wave, which he would awkwardly respond to: he was one of the many people you knew, but weren’t truly friends with.

“Hi.” You try to sound sober. “Far from the madding crowd as well?”

Ok, you tell yourself, that’s not too bad.

Michael gently closes the door, you don’t see it but he locks it as well, before he walks towards you.

“Something like that.”

You stare at him, truly taking his appearance in for the first time. He’s awkward, standing the way he does a couple of chairs away from you, but not ugly: he should dress better and wear more stylish glasses, but he is handsome, in a nerd kind of way; his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue, and he is tall, not imposing but with large shoulders.

“Come.” You say, patting the chair next to you. “Don’t stand where you are. Fancy a drink?”

Almost knocking a chair over, Michael walks where you are and stiffly sits.

“I think I am full for the night.” He answers, when you offer him your own glass. “Are you sure? I’d loathe to drink by myself.” “Sure.” He answers. “Uhm, congratulation with the project.” He adds.

You pour yourself a generous amount of alcohol and drink it down in one go.

“That? Child’s play.” “Still, a great amount of money coming this way.” “Yeah.” You’re suddenly more morose than before. “All I am good for.”

You sway on the chair and distantly feel Michael’s hands, his very large hands, grab you by your shoulders before you can fall.

“I’m fine Mickey boy.” You slur with your face dangerously close to his. “I’m nothing but trash worth kicking anyway!”

You shrug him off and try to keep an upright position.

“Don’t say that about yourself!”

Something in his tone forces your drunken mind to focus on him.

“What do you know?” You bare your teeth at him and he has to keep you upright again. “I’m with this guy for years, years! I turn down the position in the USA office for him! Lose weight! Learn how to cook like his sodden mama and what does he do? He fucks the next door neighbor, that fat cow! I have to starve myself and be shamed when I can’t be a bloody size 8 and he fucks her! Sends her dick picks! Talks shit about me!”

The same way rage had possessed you, it disappears, leaving you a shaking handful of nerves; before you even realize it, you fall against Michael and start crying, fat, inconsolable sobs against his ugly sweater.

Michael holds you tight, reveling in the fact that you are in his arms, never mind the reason: you’ve opened up your heart to him, you’re seeking him for consolation! Not Jenny, not your best friend, but him! Because you know, in your heart of hearts, that Michael is the one for you!

He knows he’s awkward as he caresses your back and tries to murmur soothing words against your hair, but it doesn’t matter, not when all his hard work has come into fruition!

“I’m so sorry.” He hears from the general direction of his chest. “I don’t know what happened.” “That’s fine.” He answers, his arms still caging you. “Truly Michael, I don’t know what possessed me.”

When you finally manage to lift your head from his chest, you stare into his eyes, now dark pools your drunken brain can’t read.

Michael loses himself in your beautiful face and in the pain still marring your features: you need consolation and not the kind that words offer. He hadn’t planned all of this when he had followed you in the conference room, but you are in his arms, needy and sad and his cock is rock hard. You are causing all of this, he tells himself, because you need this and him. And he can’t say no to you.

His big hand sneaks into your hair to pull you closer to him; in your drunken state you don’t realize what’s happening, if not when his lips crash on yours, uncoordinated and dry. You try to push him away, to beg him to stop, but he uses your parted lips to slip his tongue in to deepen the kiss, his free hand grabs your hips and he pulls you on the table, slotting himself between your parted legs, his erection shocking you. When he starts kissing your neck, you try to push him away again, too drunk and weak to manage and he grabs your wrist in his big hand, to push you against the cold glass of the table; his free hand slips under your skirt and his fingers sneak under your panties.

“If you don’t want me, why are you so wet?”

He towers over you, his eyes unreadable behind his glasses and you can’t help but sob again: your drunken brain can’t find an adequate response, your body on fire after such a long time without another person’s touch.

Your body arches when his fingers slip inside your cunt, warm and wet, to fuck your hole hard and fast: he’s seen you masturbate so many times he knows how you like it, how you want his thumb on your clit, how to curl them to find your G spot and bully it, while you trash and cry, your muscles impossibly tight around him. He knows the sounds you’re making, those high pitched sobs that mean you’re close.

“Nooo…” You moan when his fingers leave your body.

Michael’s stare his cold and burns you at the same time, you have to hide your face because you can’t stand it deep into your soul; roughly he forces you to look at him.

“Look at me when I fuck you.” His palm cups your cunt cruelly. “You don’t get to come if you stop staring at me.”

Your drunken mind wants to come, wants an orgasm to take the pain away, it doesn’t matter who gives it to you, as long as your heart stops hurting. Then you will forget all about it.

A scared sound escapes your mouth when his big cock is revealed to you: you’ve never had anything so tick inside of you, you’re scared. Michael seems to revel in the fear he sees in your eyes, he can feel his erection grow with it, the knowledge that you’re finally at his mercy fueling his desire: you’re going to take all of him and be grateful that his seed will grow inside your belly, he’s going to give you all the time to adjust, but he’s coming inside of you and you with him.

Impatient he pulls your shirt and bra out of the way to free your beautiful breasts and he jacks himself faster at the sight of your tits. He bats your hands away when you try to cover yourself and curls one hand around a breast, until you cry out in pain.

“You’re all mine to see.” The vise on your breast is so tight he’s going to leave imprints. “Say it!”

You’re drunk and petrified, you don’t understand where this violence comes from, you just want to come and be done with all of this.

“I’m… I’m all yours to see.” You manage to say with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. “It wasn’t so hard.” Michael’s hand travels from your abused tit to your cheek to dry the tears already there. “I want to make you feel good, but you have to behave. Will you be my good girl?”

If you weren’t this drunk you’d fight him off you, scream bloody murder until someone comes to your rescue, but you’re drunk and desperately need all the human connection that you can scrape. You’d never sleep with Michael, not in a million years, but you’re not in your right mind and you just slump against the cool glass, incapable of stopping him.

Michael’s bulbous head nudges your wet entrance, slowly he slides in and groans at how wet you are; he hasn’t had many partners but no cunt has felt as perfect as yours, the ripple of your muscles as your body desperately tries to adjust to his size makes his blood boil, your pained moans and keens spur him on and his pushes become faster and faster, the more your cunt opens up for him. Desperate you try to relax, the pain of his intrusion mixes with pleasure, your drunken mind is confused, your body arches when he bottoms out and your eyes roll in their sockets: you’ve never been so full in your entire life.

Michael has to stop once he is sitting fully inside of you, your hole strangles his cock in ways no other cunt has ever managed, your nipples are erect with the pleasure he’s giving you and you’re making those small sounds that have him want to fuck you hard and fast, but he’s promised you pleasure, and he is no liar. Your tearful eyes are on him as he bends his back to envelope one nipple in his mouth to suck, gently, the other is getting pinched by his long fingers; slowly the pleasure mounts over the pain you’ve been feeling, your drunken body responds to his ministration and you moan, eyes on his as he switches between nipples with satisfied groans, your hips even lift to invite him to move, and he follows your movements, picking up speed when he feels your muscles give up to his ownership of your body.

You moan and keen when he picks up speed and he pulls your legs over his arms to fold you and fuck you faster, your wet cut squelches with every push, his cockhead bullies your G spot mercilessly and you try to squirm away, the pleasure too much and not enough. Michael bends against your body again and kisses you, tongue proprietary in your mouth he snuffs your scream when you come, your cunt so tight around his cock that he follows, copious in your hungry hole, and keeps fucking you, his erection still at full mast, fueled by your desperate sounds of overstimulation: he’s dreamed about this for too long to stop now.

You try to beg, to scream, but his hand around your throat cuts off your desperate prayers, your scratch his wrist and he simply fucks you harder, grinds against your poor clit tighter and your legs kick against his back, spurring him on: he knows you like it hard and even if you don’t? It’s what you’re getting now.

With a groan he pulls out and turns you face first on the table, fast he enters you again and grabs your tits to use your body as leverage to fuck your hole savagely, his hold the only reason your body is still up, your hands try to grab uselessly at the glass, his heavy balls slap against you and pleasure burns through you, painful it courses through your body and you squirm with it, tears falling from your eyes as his cock rapes your hole deeper and deeper, until he comes, panting your insides again, triggering your own orgasm.

You pant, the cold of the table nice against your over heated skin. Distantly you feel Michael’s lips on your nape, he’s leaving small kisses and nibbles on the soft skin, when you try to move you moan, your cunt curling around his still erect cock.

“Michael, please.” You beg, so sore already. “If you didn’t want me, why is your cunt strangling my cock?” He whispers cruelly in your ear.

Michael can’t believe his body can still be in need of yours, but he’s not going to say no, not when your cunt is massaging his erection so deliciously. Fast he removes his cock and plugs your cunt closed with his fingers, he can’t risk his seed to go to waste, not when he’s trying to knock you up; one handed he turns you on your back again and enters your hole with a groan: he’s found his home and he’s not going to leave it.

“Please Michael.” You sob. “I’m so sore!”

He cups your cheek and kisses you again. You submit to his ownership, afraid of triggering his rage; distantly a part of your brain is screaming that you don’t want this, that you should fight him, but you don’t have the strength to, not when you just want to forget your ex for a while ans are so scared of his rage: you will feel dirty afterwards and will drunk yourself in a stupor to forget, but that’s problems for future you, now you can't do anything else, you just want the pain to stop.

“I was too forceful, was I?” Michael caresses your body, already getting used to the feel of your skin under his. “I’ll go slow this time, love. Give me your last one and we’ll stop.”

For now, he thinks. He’s not done with marking all your holes as his.

“Don’t hurt me.” You sob, small and pathetic. “Never.”

His hips move slowly against yours, long and deep pushes that you feel everywhere in your body. His hands are at your breasts again, massaging them in tandem with his pushes inside of you; you squirm, your muscles sore with the abuse he’s subjected you to, your clit inflamed with the way he grinds against it, still sparks of pleasure explode in your muddled brain, your cunt clenches around him, pulling him in tighter and tighter, that he can’t help but grind against you, the image of the ring of his come and yours around his base and the squelch of your hungry hole spurring him on. He’s not going to last long and you’re coming with him again, sucking all your seed inside of you, until it takes. He’s going to fuck you through your pregnancy as well, his hips grind faster when he imagines the added pressure of your full belly and your tits, leaking milk he’s going to be all the happier to suck.

“No Michael please!” You beg when he starts fingering your clit. “Be my good girl.” He groans, punishing you with hard thrusts. “You’re going to come and drain my cock dry, or I’m not going to stop until you do.”

Your body arches at his words, the part of your mind that’s still coherent reels at the realization that he’s been fucking you bareback, your cunt clenches at the thought, tighter and tighter as he fucks your deeper and faster, until you come with a pained sob and he follows you, emptying his balls fully inside of you.

He stays rooted inside of you, willing his seed to take as your muscles massage his soft cock to the point of overstimulation; you’re a mess of tears and ruined make up under him, still too shook after so many orgasms, and he uses your fragility to enact the last part of his plan.

He grabs the glass and bottle still intact after your coupling and fishes for the small packet of drugs he’s bought on less than savory websites (the wonders of the deep web, if one knows where to look) and dissolves one capsule in the remaining alcohol. Gently he raises your head and forces you to drink everything: you need to be pliant for this part, he can’t risk you acting silly if you two meet some coworkers on the way out.

Once you’ve drunk everything, he stays inside of you, just enjoying your body as the drug takes effect, only then he’s going to dress you and help you back to your apartment, where he’s going to fuck you for the whole weekend. Hopefully his purchase will not be needed, but if you misbehave he’ll have to give some more of it, he needs you to be pliant, ready to follow his breeding project. As you stare at him with glassy eyes, Michael decides he’s going to drug you anyway and once the effects drain off your system, hopefully you’ll buy his story, that you two went on a weekend binge of alcohol and sex. If things will go as he’s planned, come Sunday you’ll be embarrassed and he will buy you breakfast and ask you out on a proper date, if you start complaining, then he has to use plan B, the one he had devised when he had found out you had a fiancé. You don’t know it, but if you are going to be a silly goose, he’s going to hide you away in the small farm out in the country he’s bought under a false name (he is a man who needs little to survive and has managed to put away a big sum easily), until he can break you and remake you into his perfect little wife. He will have to lock you in the basement for a time and use the fake posts he’s prepared in advance to justify you disappearing from your life, but he’s positive that’s not going to be needed: you are his other half, after all.

[saturnniidae]

you say you have disabled hiccup headcanons? :3 *ears get really reall big. how are they doing that. why*

id love to hear them :D

Yes! Okay you've opened the floodgates my friend, I've been waiting to talk about this for so long.

He's autistic and has adhd! Obviously.

stims by tapping his fingers against things, waving his hands around, quickly taking apart and putting back together trinkets he's made, mimicking dragon noises (tho over time he's realized their vague meaning and stopped doing it randomly bc it was confusing them), running his hands over toothless' head to feel the texture of his scales and (when he was younger) petting his fur vest

His 'obsession' with things (trying to one up viggo, and when he was working on his sword) is literally just him Hyperfocusing on things

Easily loses track of time when he's locked in (Hyperfocused) working on inventions

Has that random 'I need to info dump NOW' thing and wakes Astrid up in the middle of the night like to randomly talk about abnormal behavioral patterns in a new terror flock on berk and Astrids just like 'babe I love you but it's three am'

Dyspraxic. When he was a kid he spent so much time practicing coordination for things like learning to write then later working in the smithy, and almost gave up more than once before continuing out of spite.

immunocompromised. Like seriously Hiccup has a weak ass immune system and would get sick every winter as a little kid, to the point of it being fatal. The villagers would always talk in hushed tones (bc of stoick caught them they'd get yelled at) and wonder if that years gonna be the one where he doesn't make it but he always ended up pulling through (also out of spite)

After meeting Toothless he developed tinnitus. Didn't think much of the ringing in his ears at first bc. Yknow, dragon roared at full volume directly into his ear. Then it didn't go away and he was like 'huh maybe this is an issue' then it just got worse as he continued to be in close proximity to loud noises like, even more roaring, and explosions etc.

Despite this he's got that weird "I enjoy loud noises like dragons roaring and the sound the wind makes when you're flying at like 40 mph, but if I hear the noise of lots of overlapping voices all having different conversations in a large room I need to die."

Chronic pain. The obvious, phantom pains in his leg of course, but fun fact! The human body really doesn't like it when you've broken bones repeatedly especially in the same area, and with how much this kid gets thrown around in rtte it's safe to say he's broken, fractured, and dislocated a lot of things.

When he comes home/gets back to the edge after a long day of traumatic or ridiculous events, first thing he does is take Toothless' saddle and prosthetic tail fin off, then he tries to crash in his bed, but either Toothless doesn't let him sleep until he's taken his prosthesis off (I hate that he sleeps with it on in canon looking at it makes my body hurt imaging how uncomfortable that'd be), or Astrid comes in to make sure he does (and also to make sure he eats bc he forgets to wayyy too often).

Asthma. No explanation. I just know he has it

I hope not all of these came off as super angsty, they aren't meant to completely. Like sure it sucks but he's allowed to not be miserable constantly (disabled people are allowed to not be miserable constantly, it doesn't make our pain any less valid. We're allowed to be happy).

I just love when characters are permanently, physically, changed by their story. Tbh if it weren't for rampant ableism, I think a lot of characters in action/adventure stories would be disabled, but people aren't ready for that discussion yet. Ty for the ask I had so much fun answering and writing these!!!

[scififettuccine]

A Wild Fix: Part 1.5?

Pairing: Platonic!Butcher x Supe!Reader

Summary: 3 weeks into your alliance with The Boys, you and Butcher go through the Vought Database. Butcher being curious about a Supe he's never heard of leads him to put together a plan that's less than safe. But does he listen to your warnings? Of course not.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Exposition, mentions of casinos, mention of suicide

Notes: Hey ya'll! Long time no see! You're probably wondering what the fuck this is. As you may have noticed I haven't posted anything in a few days. This is because when I got into writing Part 2, it became A LOT more complex and involved than I intended, including new characters and a sharp left turn in the story line that I didn't plan. Considering the results from the pole, I figured no one would really be mad if I did this. Part 1.5 is A LOT of exposition, setting up the actual second installment of the series. I could have made Part 2 longer, but it was way past how many words I wanted to have in each installment. I didn't want to call this an actual part two, because this alone isn't long enough to qualify as its own part, so...✨1.5✨ As you can most likely tell, I'm not following the canon plot exactly, I find that to be EXTREMELY boring. I know it's something that some people don't love, but at the end of the day it's creative writing and I enjoy doing it. Here is a link to Part 1 if you missed it! The official part 2 of A Wild Fix will be out very soon, but for now, enjoy this expositional interlude from our good lad, William Butcher.

It was safe to say that, since your first meeting? You and Frenchie didn’t get along very well. You had been running with The Boys for almost a month now, yet the two of you couldn’t agree on a single thing. But honestly? That didn't really matter to you. He didn't seem like the kind of person you wanted to be close with, anyway.

You had adjusted pretty well to this double standard of life, working for Vought, and working with The Boys. You were very careful, and there hadn’t been any close calls…yet. As for adjusting to the basement hideout? That didn't necessarily get any easier. You had carved out a little spot for yourself in one of the less occupied corners, just big enough to set your computer down, and maybe put a cup of coffee off to the side. And at the moment, that's where you sat. Working out time to help out wasn’t very hard. You were a member of The Seven, yes, but due to your powers, you were more of an alternate. You still went to meetings, and you still lived in the tower, you just weren't sent out as much. Butcher had requested that you dig into a few things for him in the Vought database. The Vought database had become available to you since you signed the contract with the company. It didn’t contain anything majorly world shattering, just some more detailed info on every Supe that had ever been involved with the company, including deceased, and currently active Supes. The info pages almost reminded you of trading cards, you laughed to yourself at the thought. It almost made you wonder why Vought hadn’t cashed in on some sort of trading card game.

“Something funny, love?” Butcher asked. You could see him approaching from behind in the reflection of your laptop screen.

“Yeah, actually…” You said, beckoning him over. Butcher crouched down next to your chair, looking at the computer screen. “Don’t those stats kinda look like trading cards? I mean, even the way it’s set up. Surprised Vought hasn’t cashed in on that yet.” Butcher raised a brow and leaned a bit closer to the screen, letting out a small ‘hmph’ sound. 

“You’re not wrong.” He examined the screen for a moment. “So you can see every Supe that's ever been involved with the company?” You nodded.

“For the most part, yes. But usually if there's anything they need to hide, the Supe goes to whoever runs the database and asks for that piece of information to be taken off of it. It’s actually in the contract somewhere, in the fine print, if I remember.” Butcher gave a small hum of acknowledgement.

“So if I had to guess, Homelander doesn't even have a file?” He asked. You narrowed your eyes towards the screen as you clicked out of the file you were on, and searched Homelander’s name in the top bar. When the file came up, you clicked it. Low and behold…? Not much. Just his in-company stats, The Seven logo, showing his affiliation with the group, and the year he had been signed onto the company. 

“Yeah…nothing much. Most of The Seven are like this, actually. If I remember correctly…” You clicked out of Homelander’s file, and clicked on the search bar again. You went to type in ‘Maeve,’ but Butcher stopped you, placing his finger over one of the file cards on the screen.

“Who’s that bloke?” He asked. You raised a brow and moved his finger out of the way. He had been pointing to a file card for the Supe named Mixer, who belonged to a new Vought owned Supe team that had been gaining steam recently…Residency. Vought had always sort of branded it as the new age Payback, but it was more of a marketing thing. The Supes on the team were legit, powerful, and some of them popular…But it definitely wasn't anything close to Payback. Mixer, admittedly, was one of the more known Supe’s on the team. He had been a musician first, gaining popularity from his young start in the industry. And as soon as Vought could get its bloodstained hands on the poor guy? He was signed on. Now? He had a residency at Planet Vought Casino & Resort in Las Vegas, and a spot in Residency.

“That's Mixer. He’s around my age, I think…Super popular in the music industry.” You explained, clicking on his file card.

“You know’im?” He asked. You shook your head as you scrolled through his file. 

“I met him at a convention a few years back, around this time of year actually…He seemed kinda full of himself. He has a residency now, though, kinda ironic, at Vought’s casino in Las Vegas.” You explained. Butcher nodded, clearly thinking.

“How is it ironic?” He asked.

“Mixer is part of a Supe team too, but the team is called Residency. So I thought it was kinda funny that he had an actual residency-” Butcher cut you off.

“Another Supe team? Owned by Vought?” You nodded.

“Yeah. It's him, Klepto, Bloodshot, Laugh Track, Void-” Butcher cut you off again, before you could even finish naming the members.

“The convention you met him at…Was it a Supe convention?” 

“Yeah. But not like the crazy fan ones. It's by invite only. All of Voughts Supes go, it’s a huge event. They invite new, upcoming Supes, and Vought investors. It’s a 3 day affair. They usually hold it at the Casino location that's here in the city, though, not the one in Vegas.” You turned your head to look at him, narrowing your eyes. What was he thinking?

“You said it was around this time of year?” He asked, turning the laptop towards himself so he could scroll.

“Yeah, usually towards the middle of fall…Why do you ask?” You raised a brow.

“I’m assuming you're invited?” He asked, the smirk on his face growing.

“Yeah, like I said, most contracted Supes are there. Annie is going too, we kinda have to…You’re not thinking what I think you are…right?” You asked, narrowing your eyes once again.

“That's exactly what I’m thinking, love.” He chuckled and stood up. “A whole casino full of Supes and Vought officials? That's practically an information gold mine. And with your connections? We’re bound to uncover something. Do you get a plus one or anythin like’at?”

“I’m pretty sure contracted Supes get two guest passes, but this is out of the question, Butcher. Digging at a Vought run Supe convention? It’s suicide for anyone involved.” You said, closing your computer. This wasn't a good idea, not even in the slightest.

“So if both you and Hughie’s girl go, that's four guest passes between the two of you?” He asked.

“Yes but-” Butcher cut you off before you could protest.

“Just enough passes for Hughie, MM, Frenchie, and meself. It’s settled, then, love.” Butcher gave a smug smile and patted your shoulder. You cringed internally. Butcher wouldn’t take no for an answer…and you didn’t favor the idea of being on his bad side.

 If you were caught, no, if any of you were caught snooping around at this convention? You’d be dead before you could leave the building…or worse.

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

And that's the end of my exposition bomb. Again, Part 2 is coming very soon, and I'm sorry that I had to break it up like this. This series became more involved than intended, as you can probably see. More information regarding Residency and its significance is to come👀 Stay tuned to get back to your regularly scheduled Frenchie x Reader content <3 Adieu!

teeny tiny taglist: @llynx7 @stinkysam

[stickyspeckledlight]

Dan Heng, kind of a funny story. See, I happened to come across an entire detailed folder based on me in the data bank. So….thoughts??????

Cool as water flows.

(Speckled's End of Year Interaction Prompts, 12/2/24 ~ 1/1/25)

"That explains why you've come here with that apprehensive look on your face," Dan Heng notes, from your pinched expression.

"Sorry," you instinctively school your face---you don't want to come off as too aggressive, because although you DO need answers...you'd prefer them to come without too much conflict and contention, you know? "I'm just...a bit spooked, y'know? I mean, as far as I can tell, no one else has got a folder as detailed as mine."

Dan Heng folds his arms. "That would be because there's simply more information about you out there than there is for any one of us.."

You laugh nervously. "Well, I get March and the Trailblazer---oh, and Mr. Yang, since well...we don't know much about his planet to begin with---but um..." you start fidgeting---realizing that it's a bit awkward to evaluate the informational status of your companions, but um, well, it's also um, not great that there's still so much about you??? "...Himeko, wouldn't there be a lot of info on her?"

Dan Heng raises an eyebrow, "Because...?"

You huff, "You know what? This doesn't matter. I'm just..." you take a deep breath; if you start acting out now, you won't be taken seriously, and that won't help you accomplish anything, "why are things like my favorite foods, clothes, and erm...preferences in there, Dan Heng?"

He regards you blankly. "The sorts of things you posted to your socials?"

"Erm---" you fluster. "Well. Wait. Why do you stalk my socials???" Dan Heng, unlike you, takes it in stride. "I need to keep all info on each member updated. Don't worry, for the most part, all that is contained in the database is entirely public information."

While Dan Heng's explanations are...reasonable enough, you presume, you still can't quite shake off your unease. Dan Heng seems to pick up on this, and adopts an apologetic expression.

"...My apologies if this has caused you discomfort," he bows his head, "Even if I'm not in the wrong, that doesn't mean the emotions you're feeling are invalid either. I'll treat you to a meal."

You jump. Because he really doesn't need to, but also...you don't think you want to be in the same room as him, to be honest...! But...with how he's looking at you, and well----you don't really wanna disappoint him. You want to get along with everyone on board, and if this is just standard database protocol and whatnot, this is something you'll have to live with, right? It'd be undue of you to rock the boat over nothing, and if you DID do that, then you can only imagine how everyone will look at you like you're---

You smile, nervous and embarassed, "Um, you r-really don't have to!" You try.

"I insist." He does not relent.

You feel that Dan Heng is immovable on this matter. So, you simply nod, and follow him out of the database. Even though dinner ends up being nice enough, you never quite get that folder out of the back of your mind.

Meanwhile, Dan Heng wonders when you'll be ready to see the folder where he's amassed every single detail about your life.

[call-me-copycat]

Love Knows No Bounds

➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)

▶ Characters: Yandere Dadzawa & Daughter Reader [Platonic]

▶ Genre: Kind of fluffy + Yandere themes

▶ Summary: Aizawa's never really taken a liking to kids. But you keep finding him somehow, and he wonders why he's now constantly worrying about you. He decides you're the only exception he'll make.

▶ Word Count: 4547

▶ Warnings:

This is yandere, so there's bound to be a slightly unhealthy mindset

Aizawa's not a creep, I promise

Implications of deaths of citizens

Graphic description of those citizens fear before said deaths

Mention of slight stalking

I'm not too great at writing Yandere, so it's not too bad

You were impossible to ignore.

Aizawa's first meeting with you wasn't exactly conventional. You were paddle boating around the recently melted lake, which was still cold enough to have small chunks of ice still floating around. The surrounding park was busy with people, all enjoying the evening weather right before the sun went down.

Aizawa was just trying to take a walk, he wasn't even on the clock. But when disaster calls, he has to be the one to always answer.

Something must've caught the bottom of your boat, because before you knew it you were engulfed in icy water. Your limbs locked up, and all the breath in your lungs immediately went out.

He was the first one into the lake, pulling you out and onto the grass where it was safe. Before you could grasp your bearings, he was already gone. You only caught a glimpse of the man that had rescued you.

Aizawa, on the other hand, was slightly annoyed with you, seeing as he had to make his walk all the way home in soggy clothing with a chill digging into his bones.

But he didn't care. You were an empty face in a faceless crowd.

Until you appeared again.

The weather was still slightly chilly, but it didn't deter you as you set off for school. You walked down your normal path you'd take, only to see a large dog waiting for you at the end of the path. It was chained, but it was blocking the area - most likely waiting for its owner to come back. You didn't have time for that.

Ultimately, the best decision for you was to go around. To take a slight detour. You were never allowed to walk in strange areas, and you knew your parents would have a fit if you were found out.

Approaching the new area with caution, you sped your way through the neighborhood with ease as it wasn't too different from yours.

A glimpse was what caught you off guard.

Passing by an apartment complex, you initially didn't think much of it. You peeked into the parking lot, only to see the back head of a man getting into his car. He was placing something into the back seat, and you watched curiously as he shut the door and turned to get into the front.

Your eyes widened at the exact moment when you saw his face, remembering the blurry outline of the man that rescued you. Quickly, you calculated how much time you had left before school, eventually coming to a decision as you swiftly made your way over to him.

Your walk turned to a run as you watched him get into his car and turn his key. Your bag rapidly beat against your back as you heavily panted, ending up haphazardly behind his car just as he began to back up.

The car instantly halted with a screech, the back lights blaring as you stood frozen in place.

Aizawa heatedly opened the car door, scowling at the blatant disregard you had for your safety. Before you could react, he was already on you.

"Are you not watching where you're going? Do you not know what would've happened if I didn't react in time?" He snapped, not having much patience with random kids so early in the morning.

You stood there awkwardly as you fiddled with your school uniform, not realizing why you had wanted to reach out to him. Looking at the ground, you evaded his angry glare as you thought about what you had wanted to say to him.

Aizawa's expression softened as you avoided his eyes, realizing he was being a bit too harsh on you. He knew he needed to be stern, but he often got scolded by Mic And Midnight for being too harsh at times. Realizing his behavior, he steeled himself by taking a breath and kneeling down to your level.

"Look..." He started, placing a hand on your shoulder, "You just need to make sure you're aware of your surroundings, I don't want you getting hurt because of someone else's actions. "

Looking up at him with determination, you gripped the bottom of your shirt as you exclaimed, "You...! You're the one who helped me in the lake, right?"

His eyes widened for a second as he thought back to it, realizing that you were the kid he helped out at that moment. He never had someone remember him helping them out, often due to his hidden nature to keep his face out of public view. He would simply do his job and leave. If anything, it was to be expected to not get anything out of it.

Aizawa wasn't sure how you did it, but you somehow managed to find him and mustered up the confidence to thank him. He now saw you as who you were, a kid with a name and face instead of being one of the many blurs in the background.

Still at knee level, he rubbed the back of his neck, "I am," curious, he had to ask you, "Would you mind telling me how exactly you were able to find me here? "

You excitedly nodded your head with a smile as you recalled the issue with the dog and your regular path to school, and how even though your parents didn't like you taking new paths that you didn't have a choice, and to please not tell them or else you'd get in trouble -

Immediately, you remembered about school, and instantly realized that if you didn't hurry then you'd be late, Aizawa quickly catching on to your unease.

"I need to..." You started, beginning to walk away as you nervously pointed out towards the sidewalk from which you came.

"How long does it take you to get to school?" You only answered with a shrug, Aizawa sighing in response. He was caught in a rock and a hard place now.

On one hand, he could just leave you and drive to UA as normal, but deal with the guilt of being the cause of your tardiness. On the other hand, he could offer you a ride, but at the expense of getting in trouble and being seen as a creep. A young girl getting into a random man's car with no knowledge of who he was wasn't the brightest idea when it came to evading public attention. With his looks and mysterious reputation, he already got a few odd looks from passerbys as he spoke to you.

Who were you, and how were you already able to worm yourself into his life?

-

Helping a random kid get to school was definitely not on his itinerary for the day, yet here he was.

"Are you buckled?"

Nodding cheerfully, you hummed in acknowledgement, oblivious to the heavy dread that settled in Aizawa. He had given in as you looked up at him with worry in your eyes, but he brushed it off as a one time thing. He'd only give in this once.

You weren't very good at giving directions, he realized. After too many U-turns and 'wait a minute!'s, he was ready to get out a map instead.

Finally, you arrived at your school with a few minutes to spare. You happily hopped out of the car, turning around and waving at him with a large smile on your face as you walked inside. After you disappeared from his sight, Aizawa meekly gave a little wave. It felt nice, in a way, helping out someone new.

Although, on the other side he was extremely irritated at your lack of awareness as you were ready to hitch a ride with what was a random stranger. He might have slightly scolded you on stranger danger on your way to school, but you didn't mind too much.

He thought that was that, and that he wouldn't see you again. But you were always there, ready to budge your way into his day once more.

The sun was setting, with only a few strands of light clinging onto the ground as Aizawa took a small walk to the convenience store. The air was cool, and the path was near empty as people began leaving before dark. Perfect for a night dweller such as him.

It was only when he saw a familiar figure that he stopped in his tracks.

You were wheeling a bicycle alongside you, wearing casual street clothes now. Why, he wondered, were you out at this time? Yes, it wasn't that late since the sun barely went down, but it was dark. Much too dark for a kid such as you to be out by herself.

"Oh! It's you again!" You greeted him before he could even fully see you, just as happy as you were before.

"It's late. Why are you out here?" His voice was stern, but still carried an undertone of carrying.

You laughed, already having realized that this man wasn't as scary as he seemed on the outside. You had quickly grew comfortable around him, despite how annoyed he seemed every time he saw you.

"My bike broke, so I'm walking," looking around, you noticed the early time, "besides, it's not too late, I've been out later than this."

His eye twitched. You were so comfortable, smiling and ignorant of any danger or threats that were possible. How you survived this long was well beyond him.

"Still-" Heaving another breath, he swallowed any objections and changed the subject, "What's wrong with your bike? "

You looked down at it, gently nudging it to the side and back, "I think the chain popped, though I could be wrong..."

Aizawa knew nothing about bikes. He only rode a few times as a kid and sometimes as a teen when he didn't have a ride. Still, he lowered himself to inspect your bike. Upon further examination, he did discover the chain, broken.

That night he escorted you home, carrying your bike for you since you were hauling it beside you 'too slowly'.

-

Aizawa nudged open his front door with his foot, convenient store bags in hand. Putting them down on his kitchen table, he took a moment and silently looked at the ground, wondering just why he was constantly fretting over you.

Perhaps it was because of how ignorant you were? Maybe it was just something he picked up when training to be a hero? He had no clue. He wasn't even a kid person, his own students were already pushing his patience a little thinner each day.

Every time he saw you, he got to know a little more about you. Each meeting gave him a puzzle piece, and a picture of who you were was slowly forming with each occurrence.

He began seeing you more often, whether it was due to random chance or by choice, he didn't care.

Waking beside you as you got off school while you told him all the things you learned, running into him at the grocery store and trying to convince him to get your favorite pudding, showing up at his doorstep with a small basket of berries you picked from the town garden...

Sooner than he would've cared for, Aizawa noticed that he began to like having you by his side. Your company was like a breath of fresh air in his lungs, your happy mood constantly keeping him from getting too sour.

It was new, and it was... Pleasant.

-

"Aizawaaa-San!"

Your voice greeted him just like every other time he met you, and he cracked a small smile upon hearing it.

Your were a bit of a distance away, but he stopped in place to allow you to run up to him. You somehow found him once again, taking a walk along the harbor where the boats were docked. It seemed like a game at this point, one you always seemed to win.

"Guess what?!"

Ever so excited, you seemed to be practically buzzing with enthusiasm.

He cocked an eyebrow, putting his hands in his pockets as you strolled next to him, "What is it? Going somewhere, I suppose? "

Your laugh rang in his ears, a sound he couldn't get enough of. He was just happy that you were happy, after all.

"Yes! My parents and I are going to visit Tokyo!" You put your hands on your cheeks, gushing, "It's going to be so fun, the city always has the most to do!"

Ah, Tokyo. It was a nice city, but cities always seemed to bring trouble. As everyone knew, the more populated an area, the more villains littered the place. Suddenly, it seemed that the air of amusement deflated from him.

"Just... Be sure to be careful please. "

You took notice of his sudden mood change, confused as to why he wasn't happy about your trip.

"Of course I will! But..." You tilted your head a bit, "Are you okay? You don't seem very happy today"

Taking notice of your worry, Aizawa quickly put on a weak reassuring smile. Putting a hand on your head, he comforted you, "Don't worry about it, just promise to tell me all about your trip when you get back"

You looked up at him, eyes filled with confidence as you hummed in acknowledgement.

-

Why was he here? Has he actually lost his mind?

That's all that rolled through Aizawa's mind as he scrolled through train stations you'd be passing by. He just needed to be sure that the ride will be safe. He didn't need to go all the way to Tokyo, but just far enough so that he could reassure his frantic mind.

Yes, he understood how freaky he was being. But for some reason, you triggered some odd emotion deep in his brain that made it so he couldn't not worry about you. The world was rough and sharp, he's seen lots of villains that couldn't care less about tearing a small girl to shreds...

A shudder ran through his spine, and Aizawa quickly ejected the thought from his mind before he could go any more crazy.

-

The rain was uncomfortable, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. All Aizawa could do was circle around the nearby stations then let you truly go to explore further.

Without him.

It left an odd taste in his mouth.

The train passed by, rumbling the station and the people around it, and he watched as it rode further and further away . . . carrying you with it. Of course you'd come back, it was only a trip. But what would he do if you didn't? What if your parents decided to move to Tokyo? What if you got into an accident?

It was then that he realized how silent his life would be without you in it. You were the colors dotting his gray life.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to drive around to calm himself, his nerves making him more jumpy than he'd like.

The drive was unfortunately cut short.

He knew it. Aizawa knew something was bound to happen.

Of course a villain shows up. He had seen the call earlier that day, but at that time they were much farther away. He realized that whoever the heroes were chasing must've been fast.

He was also quite large.

A massive villain, made of rock was being propelled by what seemed like self-made wings was near-cornered by a good amount of heroes going after him. And when a villain gets trapped they tend to do one of two things: they either (1) Lose any sense of logic in their mind and make stupid last-minute decisions, or (2) Get extremely violent as they know their time is up and that they have nothing to lose.

This villain seemed to be leaning towards the first point, as his flying began to get more and more erratic, frantically trying to find a way out through the numerous towering buildings with a multitude of heroes on his tail.

It was an unfortunate timing of events.

It felt as though time froze for a split second. Aizawa had never felt as powerless as he did in that moment. He could only watch in horror as the villain slammed into the train tracks with a deafening thud, knocking away a good portion of the tracks that sat high above the ocean.

(Like a combination of these two ^⁠_⁠^)

Huge chunks of rubble slowly collapsed down and into the dark waters that rushed at the bottom of the tracks, down to the point where they couldn't be seen anymore. The metal pieces of the tracks sat sticking out of the remaining ends, bent and distorted.

Whipping his head where your train was coming, Aizawa felt as though his heart was about to overflow and explode to pieces right in his chest. He felt hollow, and everything began to swirl as he watched the train skid in an attempt to stop.

Unfortunately the train was too heavy to stop all at once, causing it to skid over the tracks with a shrieking screech as metal collided with metal.

Sparks flew from the wheels as the train bolted in the direction of the collapsed tracks, threatening to hurl itself over and into the roaring waters below. Surrounding citizens were ushered out of the area for their safety, but those remaining sat and watched tensely, often screaming out in worry and horror at the sight before them.

Aizawa immediately halted his car and tore out into your direction while leaving it where it sat, uncaring for anything that blocked his way from getting to you. He held his scarf that once sat in his passenger seat haphazardly in his arms, struggling to get the heavy metal properly around his neck while he ran.

Pure adrenaline coursed through his veins as he sprinted with all his might towards the skidding train, his eyes never leaving the sight. He knew that he wouldn't be able to make it up there on time, and he surely knew he couldn't stop a train, but he'd be damned if he sat there watching without attempting anything.

A slight burst of hope sparked within him as several strength-bound heroes rushed to the scene and teamed up to heave the train in the opposite direction to slow it's movement. It was a bit of a struggle, but the stalling of what would've been a complete massacre of a train full of civilians meant everything in that moment.

A hero in front was attempting to push his feet in front of the machine while it skidded against him, and several in the back were using an assortment of quirks in an attempt to pull it backwards.

Slowly, the train began to slow just as Aizawa made his way up to it, the train still ticking its way uncomfortably close to the edge. He hopped into the train from the roof just as the front of the train slowly ran over the edge, dangling itself over the dark waters while the back cabins sat on the crumbling tracks.

All the passengers were in a panic, and it was incredibly difficult for Aizawa to manage his way through the terrified screaming and faces full of tears, but he was determined to face the chaos in order to find you.

He knew he was breaking Heroes Code. Once you were a hero, you were expected to do your best to save every person you could, with no bias towards one and risk the lives of many others. But he just couldn't think of such a thing at that time.

His mind was in a frenzy as the passengers all started hollering and rushing towards the back of the train, and in that moment, Aizawa realized why.

The front cabin of the train was threatening to rip off from the back end, the cables slowly snapping as more and more people rushed through it.

Eventually, a horrible, dreadful silence filled the cabin as the passengers still inside the front all froze in place, terrified to make a single move.

Aizawa stood at the front of the cabin that sat on the tracks, peering down inside the cabin that dangled - straight at the petrified faces of the passengers as they looked to him for rescue.

He had to think. If he just walked in, the entire thing would collapse. But he didn't see you in any of the cabins when he started at the back, and he took a second to glance over the terrified faces, each nothing but a blur to him.

Faceless, nameless citizens.

It was then that he instantly locked eyes with you, huddled at the way front end of the train. You were gripping the top bar of the train with such force that your knuckles were white, and he could see the true look of horror on your face as you had the closest view of the water waiting to swallow you down below.

He could only assume the two adults next to you were your parents, but he wasn't focused on them. Your eyes were screaming for him. It was extremely unsettling for him, to see your usually innocent and joyful face filled with such fear.

He only had one thing on his mind. The only thing he's every thought of whenever it came to you.

To keep you safe. To protect your smile.

At this point a couple other heroes had boarded the train alongside him and began to rush the the front end of the train, intent on getting everyone out alive.

Unaware of Aizawa's selfishness.

Slowly, the cables snapped as the cabin began to lower without stopping, causing the passengers to go into another round of distress as they all could only await the inevitable.

"Eraserhead!"

Quickly, Aizawa gave a small glance behind his shoulder to the random hero calling his name, keeping you in his peripheral vision. He was a young man with thick ropes of metal unwinding from his body, keeping the secondary cabin that still sat on the tracks from falling with the front. The metal coils winded around and through the train as it gripped the machine, keeping the man stationary.

"Please! Just save who you can!"

Another hero from behind the young man added on, "There are other pros waiting below the train to catch as many passengers as they can! They can't assure they'll be able to save everyone, so please! Move whoever you can grab, and do it NOW!"

He sprung into action before the hero could even finish her sentence, darting straight in your direction. For a brief second, his eyes caught a glimpse of who your parents were, and he realized that if he put in some extra effort that he could've taken them with him.

A dark, heavy feeling filled his mind for a second, and he seemed to lose control of his normally logical mind.

Envy. Jealousy. Rage.

They too, were faceless, nameless citizens.

Unimportant.

He was rash, wrapping and hauling you up and through the cabin with his scarf, immediately pulling you into his arms as he carried you to the safer cabin. Once his scarf was free he hastily tugged a few nearby passengers into the cabin with him, an alibi, before the cabin snapped entirely and began collapsing down below.

The passengers erupted into a cacophony of shrieks and crying as they uselessly tried to make their way to the other cabin before theirs fell entirely. Aizawa caught a glimpse of your parents faces again, but he only watched as they fell with no remorse on his face.

He felt hollow, but at the same time he felt fulfilled with you in his grasp.

Looking over, he saw a couple heroes mid-flight, ready to do what they could for the falling passengers. Aizawa could only look on grimly as he understood they wouldn't be able to handle all the people left behind.

You were clinging to him as the front end of the train collapsed, and as you turned your head Aizawa covered your face with his jacket to keep you from witnessing something that a kid your age shouldn't ever have to see in their lifetime.

-

The tragedy was all over the news. Numerous heroes littered the scene as they assisted all those that they saved to the medical professionals. News reporters were constantly attempting to get a word from one of those heroes, or an image of what was left behind. A few selfish ones, hungry for a best seller, tried to get a few words in with the victims.

The train was now empty, the front cabin sitting in the waters below and the rest of the train barely lasting against the remains of the crumbling tracks.

Ambulances were wheeling out more people than they had room for, and construction heroes were already on the scene as they got ready to remove the train from the hazardous tracks.

And yet, throughout all the chaos, all Aizawa could look as was you.

You, clinging onto him for dear life. You, who almost lost that life. You, who once again was saved by him just as he did that one time in the lake.

He refused to part with you, accompanying you all the way to the closest hospital they could get you to that wasn't overcrowded. He still stayed by your side, all throughout the night as you couldn't sleep.

He was by your side as the doctors gave you one last checkup before letting you know you were ready to leave.

And he was the shoulder you cried on when you found out the news about your parents. They were just faces in the crowd, yet he was still there to assist you.

He was a hollow, empty man towards the unknown. Those without faces didn't gain any sympathy from him, they littered the background plenty.

He was there when you felt completely, awfully lost and scared. And he was the one to offer you a home. He gave you a home, safety, and unconditional love and comfort. He was simply, conveniently there, and you didn't question it.

He was there for every fear, every nightmare, and every time your felt alone.

Later on, he was the one who accompanied you to school, this time as the one to sign you up and drive you home without worry. He drove you everywhere freely, no matter where you wanted to go. No worries attached.

You reached out to him as your pillar, and for once, things flipped around as he was your beacon of light now.

Soon enough, your smile returned, and with it that laugh he so enjoyed hearing from you. You were safe, and you were happy. That was all he needed.

Now that you were his, he wouldn't risk a single thing that he thought would put you in danger.

Your laugh was purely for him to hear.

Your smile was only his to see.

Your safety was only his concern.

Constantly by your side, you both rarely parted. He wouldn't allow you to anymore, seeing what happened the last time he attempted to let you go off without him.

You couldn't have been more grateful for all he gave you. He saved you from a lonely life ahead, and he kept you safe. He was always telling you that, anyways.

But you didn't mind. Aizawa was Aizawa, and you couldn't ask for anything else. For all you knew, he was the man who always conveniently showed up to save you, the one to always lend a hand whenever you needed it.

But to you, he wasn't Aizawa anymore.

He was Dad.

And he wouldn't ever let it go any other way.

Notes:

I hope this was good for a first attempt at writing Yandere! If this wasn't to your liking, send me a message through asks and I'll write another how you'd like! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

I really liked the plot I made for this one - ̗̀ ( ˶'ᵕ'˶) ̖́-

I'm working on the other requests I've gotten, I've been getting plenty! I really appreciate every one who sent one in, I look forward to fulfilling what I can ୧꒰*´꒳`*꒱૭✧

I hope you all have a lovely day!

@jessiedead Hope you like it (⁠^⁠^⁠)

[bones4thecats]

May i ask for Yor briar! Reader x record of ragnarok, who do you think would fit her the most? (Also she still has anya and she fights for humanity for her daughter and brother)

A/N: I’ve actually tried starting to watch Spy x Family, and from what I’ve seen, it’s really good! So, I’m using what I’ve seen of Yor in this! Anyways, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪩 On god, he was upset about this

🪩 He isn’t fond of Humanity and we all know this, they gave him headaches, but hearing Heimdall’s constant rants on the contestants was a close second in causes

🪩 He watched as their representatives, Cheranbog and Belobog, step out and form out of black and white smoke

🪩 Then he heard Heimdall yell out your introduction;

“ And welcoming one of the most well-known assassins throughout history, the Thorn Princess, better known as, Y/N! ”

🪩 You stepped outside in your classic outfit, a black dress with your hair mostly tied up and your weapons drawn

🪩 There were only two things left on his mind, why are two gods going against one human and why are you so pretty?!

🪩 Belobog and Chernabog chuckled at your facial expression, it was fair and non-threatening compared to those of Lü Bu

🪩 Once you landed the first hit against them, he was on the edge of his seat

🪩 Now, he was hoping you would win, just so he could actually speak to you

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

💐 Much like Shiva, she is not fond of Humanity, as they were destroying everything beautiful on Earth that she worked to keep nice

💐 She was just wondering around Valhalla one day when she heard a young girl laughing

💐 She turned around and saw a young, pink-haired girl with green eyes stroll up to her and reach out to shake her hand

“ I’m Anya! What’s your name? “

💐 Aphrodite smiled and shook the young girl’s hand before giving Anya her name and a flower crown she had made

💐 Anya smiled and yelled out to her mama, you, and she saw as you, the human who had just fought against Belobog and Chernabog, run up to scold her on leaving you without anyone watching

💐 Looking at you, she noticed you were one of the few humans who seemed to care for the planet during life, putting in effort to make sure the flowers stayed healthy

💐 Smiling at you and chuckling as the young girl tried escaping your grip, she made sure to remind herself later to speak to you, she had some questions for you

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

📯 He met nearly every contestant in Ragnarok, or at least had spoken briefly to them so he could get some bare info for their introduction during battle

📯 When he first spoke to you, your brother was helping you put your hair up while your daughter laughed in your lap, telling you a joke she had heard from Sasaki earlier

📯 Seeing your smile made him laugh, normally when preparing for battle, the Humans were training and keeping their composure

📯 You were the opposite, and he liked it

📯 At first, he thought that your brother, Yuri, was your husband, and for some reason he was quite saddened

📯 Maybe it was because Buddha had taken his horn earlier, maybe something else

📯 When doing your introduction, anyone with feelings could see how his voice seemed to be laced in more happiness when mentioning you attacking the two Slavic deities, Belobog and Chernabog

📯 After the battle was over, he had helped escort you and your fairly injured body to Brunhilde, Göll, and Kojiro Sasaki to carry you to heal

📯 He needed to check on you once the day’s battles were over, he can’t let his new favorite human go without his presence for long, now can he?

[pomefioredove]

HIYYYAAAA

JUST SAW THE FLRITY PROMPTS EVENT!

What do you say about Lilia with "Don't bite your lip, I want to do that."

I would say hgghh💕��❤️

summary: "don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is kinda implied to be yuu but doesn't have to be, not proofread, Lilia is shamelessly flirty thank u a part of this event

There are very few things that still manage to catch Lilia by surprise.

At his age, he's simply running out of new experiences; school, politics, even the wonderful world of the internet have started becoming monotonous and boring, leaving him in a slump.

Perhaps, then, that's why he's taken such an interest in you.

Such an intriguing little creature, he thinks, watching you from the shadows of the Diasomnia lounge.

You'd come by to drop something off for Malleus, the sweet thing that you are, and, once again, Lilia finds himself shamelessly staring.

He knows he shouldn't, but, oh, he truly can't help himself!

He inches closer. Lilia can't help but wonder what sort of noise you'll make when he startles you this time. A gasp? A shout, perhaps? Maybe even a cute little squeak... the thought of that is strangely exciting to him.

Only one way to find out.

He drops out of the shadows, blocking you from the exit just as you turn towards it. "Hello!"

And... Nothing.

You smile. "Ah... hello again, Lilia. Did Malleus tell you I was coming?"

His arms fall to his sides with a pout. Nothing? Nothing at all? You look at him like he has something stuck in his teeth.

"He may have mentioned," Lilia sighs. "You're impossible to tease these days. It's quite disappointing, really."

You smile slightly, much to his bemusement. He hates letting you have the upper hand... "Maybe I've started anticipating your pranks. You'll just need to find some new material,"

New material...? He scoffs. You're not even the least bit concerned about him!

"It used to be so easy to get a rise out of you. Humans change far too fast," he laments.

"Now I'll never get to see that flustered look on your face ever again! Or I'll have to come up with something new to tease you with..."

"Orrrr... you could just not tease me at all?"

He chuckles, shaking his head as if you had just said something ridiculous. "With your precious reactions? Impossible!"

You sigh.

Lilia tuts, tapping his chin as if lost in deep thought. He circles you once, twice, then stops in front of you.

"I can't think of anything," he sighs dramatically. "It'll come to me later... Is that uniform new?"

"Oh, uh..." you mutter, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. You turn around yourself in a circle. How cute.

"Well, it's the same uniform, but I got my measurements taken at Pomefiore, and they they got me a better fitting one."

"I can tell,"

He hums pleasantly, dragging his eyes over your body. "They did a wonderful job accentuating your features,"

You huff and look away, much to his delight, clearly taken by surprise by his change in tone.

"...Thank you,"

"Fufufu. Don't mention it," Lilia says, eyes narrowing. "You don't get complimented very much, do you?"

"Not regularly,"

"I could surmise as much. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're almost flustered by little old me. Is that right?"

Hook, line, and sinker. Your eyes widen as you realize that you've walked right into his trap. "Oh, no, no. I'm not. I'm fine!"

"Really? Don't get shy on me, now. I'm beginning to like this even more than scaring you,"

He takes a step forward, drinking in the sight of you, your body's nervous reactions to his teasing. "How cute,"

"Tease," you say, biting the corner of your lip.

You back yourself against the wall of the lounge, to his absolute delight, and he takes that as an invitation to get closer.

"That I am," Lilia admits without a hint of shame. "But don't bite your lip... I want to do that."

That long sought-after squeak finally escapes you, music to his ears, and he leans closer. For a moment, it seems like he's about to close the distance between you... then, at the last second, he pulls back.

He chuckles. "Oh, what fun! I haven't felt so young in ages. But I do have other business to attend to,"

And so, Lilia leaves you stunned, trembling against the wall as he merrily walks off before you seem to come to your senses.

"Vanrouge, you little shit! Get back here!"

A slight giggle escapes him as he starts off running, with you not far behind. He was right; this is much, much more rewarding than scaring you.

Maybe, if you make another one of those cute noises, he'll even let you catch him.

[camaelczarka]

So, I think we all know that there’s going to be quite a bit more to the 2x07 trial and the 2x08 tower scene when Lestat tells the story. If you’ve read the Vampire Lestat, you already know what I mean; TVL is almost a wrapper for IWTV, and provides much of the context around Claudia’s death. I’m definitely going to spoil some events in that book in this post so watch out. Under the cut for spoilers.

The bulk of TVL describes Lestat’s mortal life, his relationship with Nicolas de Lenfent, his non-consensual turning into a vampire by Magnus who then shortly after jumps into a fire, his meeting Armand, his forming of the Theatre des Vampires, and Nicki’s eventual death by suicide that Armand greatly facilitated. There’s a lot more to it but basically it’s the backstory for why everything that happens to Claudia and Louis in Paris goes as horribly as it does.

Near the end of the book, Lestat revisits the trial. It picks up with him being extremely weak and sick for years after his ‘death’ at the hands of (mostly) Claudia. He doesn’t condemn her for it, or seek revenge, and says he understands why she did what she did. But being alone and having no one to turn to, he eventually decides to ask Armand for some of his blood so that he can recover, having no idea that Louis and Claudia are already in Paris. Still in his weakened state, Armand takes advantage of him to get information about Louis and Claudia and how they tried to kill him. Armand is reading his mind but it’s unclear how much info he gets there. Then, he traps Lestat under the theater and starves him until he’s forced to drink dead blood. He’s extremely disoriented and sick and is dressed up to look good and brought out to testify against Claudia. Then he’s taken away to Magnus’ tower (he also has the yellow dress here) and Armand flips out on him for breaking up his former coven and starting the theater, tells him Louis is also dead (a lie obviously), and pushes him out of the tower.

The key difference between the show trial and the book trial is the fact that the show makes the trial into a play with rehearsals that Lestat is (apparently) present for. So my question, knowing the book canon, is why would Lestat participate willingly, or did he even willingly participate?

Going on the book canon, it might simply be that Lestat is super fucked up in this moment, that Armand is controlling his every action except for the few times where he manages to break out of it and go off script. And I do think that’s possible if he’s weak enough- Armand is very powerful in that way, and Lestat might be unable to fend him off. I think this is possible- Armand explicitly states in the book that he wants Lestat to look presentable, and maybe that was enough to fool Louis.

But I actually think the show might have added another even more nefarious layer to this already fucked up event- I think that Armand has made some sort of fucked up deal with Lestat for Louis’ life. Because otherwise, none of this makes sense.

Why does there need to be a trial play with a human jury? Legitimately, there doesn’t. There’s no good reason for it- the coven was going to judge them as guilty no matter what, and the audience is going along with the play because they think it’s a show. Armand and the coven will have Claudia dead one way or another, they really don’t need a bunch of mortals to weigh in on it. So who was Armand trying to convince? The only answer is Louis.

Armand may have written into the script that Louis was supposed to die with Claudia, but I think he made a deal behind the backs of the coven with Lestat. That deal was maybe something like- “I let you get him banished, then I will take him out of the wall. Say nothing about your involvement or he dies.” Lestat is made to give up personal details of their lives together, seemingly freely. Why would be do this? Why would he willingly put himself in the position of the bad guy to Louis here? Even Louis wonders this in the interview. And there are even a bunch of moments where Lestat stalls in the middle of talking- and I think he’s fighting with Armand telepathically, or being reminded of the terms of this agreement. Louis and Claudia wouldn’t be able to tell what was happening, but Madeline would, so they keep her hypnotized until later.

Because, the coven DIDN’T spare Louis. Lestat getting him ‘banished’ didn’t spare his life at all, he was just dying slowly. Because again, the coven didn’t actually care about the audience jury, they just took him offstage for the main event. He was 100% still going to die. But Lestat DID still save him- by agreeing to let him go with Armand.

Lestat doesn’t answer when Louis accuses him of getting revenge during the trial. Lestat doesn’t provide any explanation in the tower in the next episode for why he participated. He allows Louis to hold him responsible for his participation and how it resulted in Claudia’s death. I feel like Lestat CAN’T dispute it, as per the terms of whatever arrangement he and Armand had. Armand takes Louis out of the wall, and the price of Lestat saving him from that is letting Louis decide to leave him. He can’t say anything otherwise, and he truly doesn’t think he deserves to anyway.

This also could explain why Lestat participated to begin with. He actually IS really weak and fucked up, so he couldn’t do much to save Claudia or anything really past getting Louis put into that coffin. Armand puts him into the impossible position of relying on him to get Louis out while also trusting that Armand can handle his suicidal husband, knowing that Armand is responsible for Claudia AND Nicki’s deaths already. This is why he is terrified that Louis is dead in 1973, because Armand has a track record and he knows that Louis has been suicidal before. But what other option does he have? Giving Louis up is the only way to save him.

This achieves 3 goals for Armand. He get Louis and finally (he hopes) severs Louis’ ever present love for Lestat. He gets rid of the coven, or at least gets out of it. And, perhaps most importantly, he injures Lestat in a way that he will truly never recover from. Nicki is dead, Claudia is dead, Louis hates him.

I think this is partially why Armand is so gleeful when he tells Daniel how long he and Louis have been together versus Louis and Lestat. His ultimate goal is to punish and hurt Lestat. Kill his daughter, make him watch, make him responsible. Make Louis hate him. Make Louis stay with him ‘forever’ of his own free will.

It also recontextualizes the line in the last episode where Lestat explains to Louis that he “gave him to Armand” and questions whether or not that was actually saving him. Which implies there was a goal beyond simply getting him offstage, and I think means more than just exchanging a boyfriend between the two of them. Louis had already left Lestat at the point, and while maybe they would have gotten back together already without Armand’s involvement, Louis wasn’t really ‘his’ to give. I think it means something more along the lines of he LITERALLY gave his bodily safety to Armand, knowing how much he couldn’t trust him. But, he had no other choice, because Armand left him with none. Let me have him or he dies.

I do actually wonder if Lestat was still imprisoned and starved by Armand, and I think there’s a high likelihood of that. I do think Lestat would have to be in a weakened state to agree to any of this. But it does add another psychological element to the original story that also explains some of the weirdness in Armand’s version of events. This is the part of the story that Daniel can’t totally decode, because only Lestat knows exactly what happened besides him. And Lestat may still assume that Louis has ‘figured it out’ in the present day, because all Louis says is that he knows Lestat ‘saved’ him. Lestat still is going to clarify events going forward, and the trial is a big reason WHY he he writes TVL, because he wants Louis to understand what happened there.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to be in my cousin's life? This will be long, I'm sorry

I (f19, but this started at 15) have a rough relationship with my family, I don't have a better word to describe them as besides just not the best towards me. But the real issue now is that I don't want to be involved in my cousin's (f8, but this started at 5) life. This sounds very silly, I know, but let me explain. My cousin is physical in how she expresses herself towards me (she likes to throw things at me and hit me and bite me, and I can't do anything about it because I get in trouble if I do). I have a severe nut allergy and there have been multiple times she's been caught trying to smear peanut butter on me or in my mouth while I slept. She likes to tell me she wishes I'd just eat the peanut butter so she'd never have to see me again. She just hates me, honestly (I'm not sure why, I've never hated the kid, I'm not mean to her, none of us have been able to figure out why and when asked she just says she hates me because she hates me)

The house we lived in contained just me, her, my mother, and my uncle. She is not abused by either adult, before anyone asks, she's actually quite spoiled due to the fact that they can't discipline her in any way without risking her being taken away. And I don't hate her at all, I'm bitter about how she treats me, but I know she's only a little kid. However, I just don't like being treated that way. I recently moved out and I told my mother that I didn't want to be part of my cousin's life until she stopped treating me that way. (Info: My mother thinks she treats me this way because she's a kid so she can't vent her anger out on the adults and I was the only other kid she could vent it out on.) My mother thinks I'm being cruel and punishing my cousin, she says I'll regret this choice and that my cousin will be all I have one day so I shouldn't do this. I've tried to explain that I'm not doing it to punish my cousin, it's just not good for my mental health and I can't be around this behaviour anymore. Other family members and family friends have agreed with my mother, but my friends think my decision is right. Since moving out and not going through that every day, I've started to feel better about myself, my depression isn't as bad and I don't have as much anxiety when I go to sleep. That is kinda swaying my decision to me thinking I'm right for choosing this for myself, but I still worry my mother might be right and I might be ruining my cousin's mental health by leaving.

I want to add that I know I'm way older than her, and some of you might be wondering why I don't stand up to her, but I could never do anything to stop her. I spent many years in foster care due to issues with my family (my mother, specifically), and I know that even the littlest thing where I live can get your kid taken from you. If I even raised my voice at her to tell her to stop and she told someone, she could be taken away from my family and I can't do that to her, I know the horrors of foster care. I also have spent most of my life being abused and don't know how to protect myself or defend myself in situations like these. Please keep this in mind when/if you call me pathetic or stupid, trust me I know I am.

Please, I know a lot of you may think this is silly or dumb or bait, but I need to know aita for not wanting to be in my cousin's life?

Reasons I think I might be NTA: I think my decision is good for both of us and I believe I should put mental health first in this case as it can be dangerous in the future if I don't. I don't want to stay longer and end up hating her, she's just a kid and doesn't deserve to be hated.

Reasons I think I might be TA: This could be seen as punishing her, and she might hate me more for it. She's already started being meaner to other kids now that she can't vent it out on me and I'm an adult so I can take it better than one of her classmates could. She might think her behaviour drove me away and blame herself.

What are these acronyms?

[fluentmoviequoter]

Jim Street, Instagram Boyfriend

Requested Here by @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses

Pairing: Jim Street x shy!fem!reader

Summary: You want a picture but are too shy to ask anyone to take it. When Jim Street sees you waiting, he becomes the Instagram boyfriend he was born to be.

Warnings: so much fluff, Luca and Hondo (lovingly) trash talk Deac and his advice

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

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Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

Los Angeles looks different from the top. Standing outside the Griffith Observatory, most of the LA basin is clear in the daylight, and all the people taking pictures in front of the view prove its beauty. You’d like a picture, too, but between your shyness and not seeing anyone who looks like they’d be willing to stop for someone other than themselves, you’ve taken to standing at the side and waiting for the right moment. When – or if – you see someone who looks nice enough that you could ask for their help, then you’ll worry about getting the right words out.

“Why are we here again?” Street asks as Luca leads him around the observatory.

“We’re scouting,” Luca answers.

“Scouting what? You can’t see anything clearly from up here, man. Except the restaurant that you promised to take me to.”

“After I finish my errands,” Luca reminds him. He slaps Street’s back and adds, “Let me do what I need to do.”

Street sighs as he nods. Once Luca has walked several paces ahead, Street mumbles, “Sure, I’ll just be here. Starving.”

While Luca approaches a telescope, Street shakes his head and looks out over the overlook balcony. There are couples taking pictures, men and women posing for quick selfies, and… someone else watching the other people. Street forgets about his hunger, though it had been slightly played up for Luca, as he watches you. You’re nervous, he can tell that easily, but as he watches your eyes flit from person to person and sees your bottom lip drawn between your teeth, he knows that he needs to do something.

While you turn toward the view momentarily, Street approaches you. Even if his team thinks differently and reminds him often, he is a good man and would do anything to help someone who needs it. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, he’ll try to help. You look up just as he reaches you, and he smiles easily.

“Hey,” Street begins. “Do you need some help?”

Your breath catches at the view. Not Los Angeles below you, no, you’ve seen that, but the man standing before you is so handsome that you have to remind your body to breathe. At your silence, he raises his eyebrows but continues smiling.

“I- uh- would you maybe be willing to take my picture?” you force out, mentally kicking yourself for how small and shy your voice sounds. Who could blame you? another part of your mind wonders.

Street releases a breath, relieved that you are okay. He’d been concerned that something had happened, but now that he hears you and connects the dots, he can see that you just wanted a picture but are shy. Just looking for the right person and time to ask, he assumes.

“Absolutely! I’ll take as many as you want,” Street answers quickly.

You smile and turn your chin to the side, growing shyer at his undivided attention and the sound of his voice. The observatory relies on the beauty of the heavens for advertising, but you think the real beauty is standing before you. And asking for your phone, you realize with a start.

“Sorry,” you murmur as you pass your phone to him.

“No worries,” he assures. “What kind of picture do you want?”

“Is there more than one?” you inquire, tilting your head to the side.

Street chuckles at the curiosity in your body language and wonders why more people haven’t taken pictures of you. You’re stunning, and even if you’re too shy to ask, surely someone else can see that your beauty needs to be captured.

“In that case,” he begins, “I’ll take the pictures and you just keep doing what you’re doing, being gorgeous.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and they warm as you smile.

“I’m Street, by the way. Well, Jim Street, but everyone calls me Street because…” Street rambles.

You introduce yourself in reply, and he watches you on the phone screen. Seeing you through the camera lens is different, and Street’s words dry up. “Okay, I’m going to take pictures,” he whispers.

Street bends his knees and squats, trying to find the perfect angle. He moves one foot back without standing, and your smile widens at his dedication.

“Hey, if I fall to my death trying to get this right, make sure you get the picture, alright?” Street requests. “I’ll throw the phone back up to you.”

You laugh, not the shy, swallowed chuckle from before, but a real laugh and Street taps the screen so many times he momentarily worries that you’ll run out of storage space.

“That’s awful,” you chide lightly. “There’s no way a picture of me is worth that.”

Street lowers your phone to send a serious look over the top. “Don’t do that.”

You sober quickly, your laughs dying at the tone of his voice. “Okay,” you whisper.

You bring your hands together before you, and Street snaps another photo as he stands. He opens your camera roll and begins swiping backward to check the images he captures. When he sees the first picture of you laughing, he freezes. In a moment, looking at that candid, Jim Street falls for you, and he falls harder and faster than if he had gone off the side of the balcony.

“Do they look okay?” you inquire.

Street looks up but can’t find a single word to say. You’re just as beautiful in person, yet he can’t communicate all the feelings in his chest right now.

“Let me get one more,” he forces out.

“Sure.”

“Put your left hand on the railing,” Street instructs. “Good, now turn your chin toward me. Perfect.”

He drops into what you can only describe as a Spider-Man pose and leans to the side to take the picture. Your smile turns genuine while you watch him, and he hums contentedly as he finishes testing the angles.

“Thank you so much,” you say as he stands. “I honestly can’t thank you enough.”

Street nods but doesn’t look away from your phone for a moment. When he hands it back, your fingers brush his, bringing all those sudden feelings he felt before back like a raging flood.

“Thank you,” you repeat, quieter.

“I hope this wasn’t too forward, but I texted myself, so I have your number if you need anything,” Street responds. “Amateur photographer or otherwise.”

You drop your chin but force yourself to hold eye contact with Street as he speaks. With your fingers curling into a shy, nervous fist, you nod.

“That’s fine,” you assure him softly. “And… I’d like to talk to you since you have my number.”

“Great.”

“Street! Let’s go!” Luca calls from across the balcony.

“That’s my cue,” Street tells you. “I’ll talk to you later, pretty girl.”

You bite your bottom lip to keep your emotions somewhat contained. “Good.”

Street smiles at you once more before he turns and walks away. You watch him for a moment, then look down at your phone. As you unlock it, it buzzes with a new text. The contact’s name: Jim Street, photographer for the prettiest girl in the world makes you smile. Once the text thread is open, however, your smile drops as shock takes its place. Street sent himself a picture of you laughing, not just a text. When you look up again, he and his friend are gone. At least it’s a good picture for once, you think.

“Who was the girl?” Luca asks.

“What girl?” Street counters.

“What girl? The girl at the observatory.”

Street tells Luca your name but doesn’t explain how you met or started talking. You’ve been on Street’s mind since then, but you’re shy and he doesn’t want to scare you away by rushing into anything. He fell hard and fast, but that doesn’t mean he should try to force you to do the same, especially when it could risk scaring you away.

“Are you going to see her again?” Luca asks.

“I want to,” Street admits. “It’s too fast, you know. We just met.”

“And you were looking at each other like you were fifteen seconds from going to Vegas and getting married. Text her, call her, whatever it is you do.”

“But-“

“Don’t argue with me, Streeter. I’ll call Duke in here to tackle you.”

“With what strength?” Street argues. “Kisses?”

“Or I’ll tell Deacon and let him know you want relationship advice,” Luca challenges with a knowing smile.

“You’re evil, Luca. Has anyone ever told you that?”

Luca turns away from Street and answers, “It’s been mentioned, but they usually take it back when I’m their groomsman.”

Street rolls his eyes but reaches for his phone regardless. He needs to see you; more than the picture that has become his phone’s home screen and consumed all his thoughts, he needs to see you in person again. The text he sends is simple, just an explanation that he thinks you are beautiful and kind, and he wants to spend time with you.

Street begins to put his phone away, but your response is nearly immediate: I think the same about you. When and where?

Street throws his fist up in victory and ignores Luca’s muffled, “I told you!” from the other room.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” Street says during your date.

You look just as beautiful as when you met, and you’ve slowly opened up to him. At that comment, you shake your head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe you asked me out,” you reply. “I mean, I fell for you the moment you walked up.”

“Then I win.”

“It’s a competition?”

“Of course.”

You nod but remain dubious as you ask, “Then wouldn’t I win, since I fell first?”

“I fell for you in the time of a camera shutter, so no.”

Your smile drops as you watch Street. There is no reason you shouldn’t believe him, but men like Street don’t usually fall for women like you… if they fall at all.

“Hey,” Street calls. “Don’t do that. Whatever is going on in that breathtaking head, stop.”

“I just-“

“Don’t believe me?”

“No, it’s not that, just… why me?”

Street pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and slides it across the table. You see the picture of you as his wallpaper and quickly look back at Street. He smiles and takes your hand over the table.

“I mean it. Even if you did laugh when I talked about dying,” he promises.

You laugh yet again, and Street’s world lights up.

“Can I take another picture?” Street asks excitedly.

“One condition,” you answer through your laughter. “There has to be a date for every picture.”

“That’s going to be a lot of dates,” Street points out. “Did you see how many I already took?”

“I did. That’s why I disagree with your title of ‘amateur’ photographer.”

“Maybe I’m just… what are they called? The guys who do whatever their girlfriends ask to get the perfect picture?”

You roll your eyes, but squeeze Street’s hand as you answer, “You, Jim Street, are most definitely an Instagram boyfriend.”

Street pulls your hand gently, and as you bend over the table, he raises his other hand to your chin. “Did you just call me your boyfriend?” he asks. “This moment deserves a picture.”

Bonus:

“Street, your phone is ringing!” Hondo yells. He leans over and looks at the caller ID before the call goes to voicemail.

“Sorry,” Street apologizes as he walks into Hondo’s kitchen. “Forgot where I set it down.”

“No worries.”

Street picks up his phone, but doesn’t leave before Hondo asks, “So… you take selfies with girls now, playboy?”

“Something like that.”

“She’s pretty.”

“I know.”

“I’m happy for you, Street,” Hondo adds. “It’s obvious that she’s good for you.”

Luca walks into the kitchen as Hondo finishes speaking, and agrees, “She turned playboy Street into puppy dog photographer Street.”

“Who did?” Deacon asks.

Luca presses his lips together to hide his smile but shrugs as Street glares at him.

“Well, Deac,” Hondo begins. “You’ve got another boy ready to settle down. Care to tell him how it’s done?”

Street directs his glare to Hondo, but it disappears when Deacon double-taps Street’s back and says, “I think he’s got it figured out.”

“Are we talking about the same Street?” Luca asks quickly.

“I’ve seen the pictures,” Deacon explains. “They’re good without my advice.”

Deacon steps out, and Street’s phone rings again. He answers and disappears into another room, leaving Hondo and Luca alone.

“I didn’t think I’d live to see it,” Hondo muses.

“Wait until you see them in person,” Luca says. “Jim Street, puppy dog photographer, is more fitting than you’re thinking.”

[slightlyartist]

HIHIII!!! i just want 2 say i love ur tatexbackle art SO MUCH do u have any headcannons for them?*I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I STRIVE OFF OF CONTENT OF THEM, also im a sucker for tate media)

HEWWO! I'm SO HAPPY people want to know more about Tackle, so I stayed up until 5am writing these. Enjoy!

Backle was born in Australia but moved to Florida in his late teens.

He is a few years younger than Tate (Let's say if Tate is 35 then he is 33) (Was born in ~1980, the Gravity Falls Timeline is a mess don't make me do the maths)

His fave movie is Nemo, he was already in his 20s when the movie came out but he was SEATED. Loved the Barracuda cameo (one of his favorite fish). His Shark obsession got worse. Watched it while he was in Florida and made him miss Australia.

He has a picture of Steve Irwin in his wallet.

Tate doesn't like having his picture taken but Backle convinced him to take one selfie together. He keeps it next to the Steve Irwin picture.

Very active, also loves hiking! Loves collecting little trinkets along the way and puts them around the shop. Tate doesn't like that habit but Backle insists it's "decoration".

Backle isn't a very crafty man but he made some fishing line bracelets for him and Tate. They kept on breaking so Tate built some fishing line rings, Backle keeps his on a necklace and Tate sometimes fidges with his own when he gets nervous or overthinks.

Backle never made fun of Old Man McGucket, even before Tate confessed that he was his father. Florida made him immune to any type of "crazyness" and he understands that some people are unlucky and that life sometimes isn't fair to them. Backle explained this to Tate on an afternoon they were fishing and Tate got so comforted and less embarrassed of his dad.

Backle introduced Tate to "Stoic Monthly" so he could get his anxiety under control. Tate insists that he can buy his own but Backle always gets him the new issue the moment they release it.

Backle's love language is Words of affirmation and Gift-giving (I bet this heals Tate's inner child).

Tate's love language is Quality time and Acts of service.

Tate is very reserved and it took him some time to open up to Backle. After that Backle discovered that Tate is actually a Yapper and he loves listening to him.

Backle is an even bigger Yappertron 3000.

Despite that, they can spend hours sitting in silence just fishing without being uncomfortable.

Backle finds Tate's quirks really endearing and likes noticing them. Tate mumbles a lot when mad, bounces his knee when overthinking (got it after his father), and hums and whistles when happy (got it after his mother).

Tate doesn't like Public Displays of Affection but that didn't stop Backle from trying.

Backle keeps insisting that Skinny Dipping is so much fun and that they should do it. Tate picked a date to do it and Backle got really excited, only to discover that on the day Tate picked there was a huge storm. He suspects Tate chose that day on purpose because he is awfully good at predicting the weather. Backle will keep suggesting it until they try it.

Backle knows how to cook really well. Tate is the one in charge of keeping everything clean and in order.

Backle would love to have a dog, Tate would love to have a cat, they settled on gluing googly eyes on a rock. Tate named it Dwayne and Backle found it hilarious. Every time they see it they smile.

He likes watching poorly made, low-cost movies. Tate always ends up joining him after saying that "there's no way you like that". After each one, they always end up agreeing it's the worst movie they have ever watched.

Backle was a camp counselor when he was 16. His easygoing personality made kids love him. He also likes kids because they don't judge him for info dumping about sharks. In fact, they would keep asking for more shark facts.

Tate is scared that Backle will end up leaving him too, tries to not get too attached. #DaddyIssues

Tate wonders why Backle doesn't freak out when encountering Gravity Falls' weird creatures. Backle says it feels like a normal day in Australia.

No one in town knows the nature of their relationship. If you ask them, they'll tell you they are Fishing Buddies. If you ask Tate and Backle, they'll also tell you that. Only Blubs and Durland know.

Backle fully believes he'd be able to win a fight against an alligator/bear

Tate confessed that he had never watched Nemo and Backle couldn't believe it. He worked twice as hard on his shift to have everything done sooner just to close the shop early on that day. Then prepared snacks and organized a movie night. Tate really liked it, but found every scene with Dory difficult to watch because it reminded him of his dad (he never made a comment about it, but Backle probably figured it out). Backle would remind him to "just keep swimming" during hard times. During boring days at the shop, Backle also likes to mess with Tate by "speaking whale".

I could probably keep on adding more and more but I'm gonna stop here! Everyone is free to ask me for anything specific or even drop your own HCs! Would love to hear them and maybe even make them "canon" teehee <3