#In fact kinda weird and unsettling looking

[monstersflashlight]

Day 2. Monster-kinktober: Artificial intelligence + Handjobs/Temperature play

A/N: This is a prequel piece of this one that nobody asked for but I wanted to write. Also, I took handjob in the literal way, so we have fingering as handjob here. Enjoy!

Robot x fem!reader || dirty talk (kinda), fingering, temperature play, semi-public sex (technically)

When you started working in the factory, you were mesmerized by the robots. You were the only human in your floor and thought they would be more… mechanical. But they weren’t. They looked very much robot-like, but they were great at conversation. They were nice in a very human way, and that only made them even more appealing for you. They were interesting, and weird looking, and a bit androgynous in the best way possible. So nobody would blame you when you say you fell in love with one of them.

It all started in a slow Wednesday afternoon. You had a couple hours until the end of your shift but there wasn’t much to do, so you were just filling some paperwork and trying to look busy without being too obvious about the fact that you were only moving papers around. And then someone knocked on the door of your office. You thought it would be one of the humans of other floors, looking for something and being too stupid to ask the robots. Some humans didn’t like the fact that the company was mainly robot oriented.

But it wasn’t a human. It was your favorite robot looking as weird and mechanic as always, and making your pulse skip a beat as he showed his silver bald head. “Hi! What can I do for you?” You asked cheerfully.

“I have a question,” he said in his monotonous tone, eyes unblinking. At first it was unsettling that they didn’t blink, but you got used to it and now it was a bit exhilarating to be the focus of attention of a robot, they didn’t miss a single movement you did and that called to you in a weird way.

“Okay. What kind of question?” You questioned, looking at him in the most professional way you could muster, but probably failing because he was robotically hot. In a way that made your pussy a little bit wet every time you talked to him.

He didn’t wait more than two seconds before shooting at you: “Do humans like robots?”

“Wow, that’s a big question right there.” You thought about it for a few seconds, trying to organize your thoughts to explain human-supremacy groups to a robot. “Some humans like robots just fine, but other humans think they are inferior to humanity so they…”

He cut you. “No, no. I understand that, I mean if humans like like robots,” he clarified.

And for a moment you were speechless, was he really asking if human and robots could have some kind of romantic or sexual connection? Was that even a possibility? You’d thought about it (a lot), but you never knew robots could feel that way about humans, you weren’t even sure they felt. You knew artificial intelligence was great nowadays, but you weren’t sure and thought it would be rude to ask. Good luck they weren’t scared to ask anything and were always truthful.

“Oh. Oh. I don’t know… Yeah, I guess so. Why not?” You answered, trying to sound neutral about it.

He looked at you for a few more seconds before asking: “Do you like robots? Do you like me?” He caught you completely unprepared for that question.

“What?” You squealed.

“I like you.” You just discovered they could like humans, and your brain was trying to process a thousand little movements and interactions at the same time, trying to figure out if he meant what you thought he meant.

“What do you like about me?” You asked, still confused about what was happening. Was your robot crush really telling you he wanted to have his way with you, too? That wasn’t possible, was it?

“You treat me like an equal, and you are always nice to all robots. Also you look squeeze and I want to touch you.” You choked on a laugh at that part. “Do you like me?” He repeated.

You thought about it for half a second, thinking about the naughty fantasies you had all alone in your house. You thought about all the extra time you spent in his area just to chat with him for a bit. You did have a crush on him. “Yes,” you finally let out, a spark of hope inside your chest.

“Good,” he accepted, his head bobbing up and down in a very non-human way that made you want to smile. “Are you my girlfriend now?” He said, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you going to take me out first?” You joked.

He looked panicked for a second. “Yes. Yes. Human records said we need to go to dinner and to the movies. But I don’t eat, and I’m not allowed into cinemas. But we can skip that and do the fucking, that’s third date as the internet explained,” he deadpanned, making you choke on air and start coughing really hard.

“We can do what?” You choked out, eyes as big as plates as you looked at him.

“The fucking. The internet said human partners used their genitals together to get pleasure. I don’t have genitals, but I can create some,” he explained in his toneless voice, making it sound serious and ridiculous at the same time. He continued: “different shapes, different colors, they can attach. I have them on my desk. I’ll bring them. Wait here,” he ordered.

“Wait!” But he was already gone.

He came back a couple minutes late, carrying a big box full of various dicks of different colors, shapes and even textures. You were looking into the box trying to decipher when your life became so surreal and how did your boring Wednesday end up with a robot boyfriend and a box full of attachable dildos.

“We can try them now,” he announced, reaching to grab one when you stopped him.

“No! We are working.”

“But I want to touch you and I have no job right now. You don’t either. You’ve been moving papers around all day.” You didn’t even have time to process the fact that he was aware of your every moment before he was talking again. “Let me touch you, please.” His voice sounded mechanical and had zero tone to it, but at the same time it sounded like a plea and you found yourself accepting with a soft “okay”.

He approached you and lowered his bald robot head until he was a couple centimeters away from your face, he stared without blinking until you looked away, red blush covering your cheeks. “I like that you can change colors,” he said, making you smile. “Can I see your tits? The internet said human women liked them played with.” His change of behaviour from cute to horny robot made you want to laugh maniacally.

“Some human women do, some don’t,” you explained.

“Do you? Do you like your boobs being played with?” He asked, his head tilted to the side in a very puppy-like gesture that made your heart skip a beat. He was looking at your covered boobs like they held the answers to all his questions. He reached for your buttons and you didn’t stop him.

“Ye- yes,” you stuttered, suddenly nervous as he unbuttoned your shirt and stared at your lacy bra. He lowered it down, exposing your tits to the cold air of the office and making your body shiver.

“Why are they hard?” He asked at the same time he pinched one of your nipples with a bit too much force. You let out a gasp and he released it, just to do it again. You liked that he was playful, it was refreshing.

“It’s cold and they are sensitive,” you let out between heavy breaths.

“They turn hard when cold?” You nodded, and then cried out when his fingers suddenly became as cold as ice as he rubbed your nipples with them, making your back arch on your chair. “Oh. And what happens if it’s hot?” He asked as you felt his hands became scalding hot and you cried out again.

He did it a couple more times, pinching and rubbing and making you lose your mind with just his fingers. You were almost at the edge of a good orgasm when his hands traveled down, popping the button of your pants and rubbing your covered mound.

“The internet said this was the best place to give pleasure. Is that true?” He asked, his hand slipped lower, rubbing over your dripping center. You nodded frantically, grabbing onto the sides of the chair like your life depended on it. “It’s wet and soft,” he noted. You flushed redder, your face flaming hot as he explored the inside of your pants. He pushed your panties to the side and touched right over your aching pussy, making you cry out again, your eyes rolling back into your head. “Do you like that?” You nodded, your teeth biting down on your lips so hard you tasted blood.

He rubbed up and down your pussy for a while, not doing anything crazy, just two fingers collecting your wetness and exploring your most vulnerable place. He hummed every once in a while, looking at you unblinkingly as you squirmed on the seat. And then he found your clit, his fingers rubbing over it with such precision you saw starts and had to cover your mouth.

“I wonder what happens if I apply cold here,” he said out loud as you felt his fingers turning ice cold and your body shivered, more juices dripping from your pussy.

He turned his fingers scorching hot, rubbing your clit, and then cold when he rubbed them over your entrance. You were on edge, but he wasn’t even trying to get you off. You were desperate, wanting to do something, to come, but you wanted to let him explore you some more… It was exhilarating to have him pay such attention to you.

And then he surprised you pushing two fingers inside as he rubbed his thumb over your clit. The combination making your body jerk as he gave you the robot equivalent of a smirk, which looked like a weirdly creepy grin that made your pulse race and your pussy wetter. He crocked his fingers and found your G-spot, faster than any human ever had, and you screamed under your palm. He looked at you and did it again, rubbing your clit and sweet spot at the same time. Your orgasm was so close you could feel it at the tip of your consciousness, but he stopped then. Just for a few seconds, but enough to make you release your hold on the chair and grab his bald metallic head.

“Make me cum,” you pleaded.

He didn’t answer, he just grabbed one of your boobs with his free hand and started rubbing ice cold fingers over your nipple. At the same time the hand in your pants got hotter and hotter, almost too hot, but so, so good. He thrust inside of you a couple times, his thumb rubbing over your clit… and that was it. You screamed as your back arched and your body fell into the most intense orgasm of your life as he stared at your contorted face.

You were coming down from the high when he said: “I liked that. Next time we should try the dildos,” he stated, voice monotonous.

“Yeah… Whatever you want,” you told him, too tired to argue, and too excited to try.

[casuallyanidiot]

Yantober Day 1

Love at First Sight [Yandere Forest God x Gn.Reader]

Using @ozzgin's Yantober prompt list!

Tipjar :)

Tw! Dead dove do not Eat! MDNI, NSFW Noncon, oral sex (recieving), Yandere, Implied kidnapping

You go into a newly acquired piece of land to survey it for your job when things start to become strange...

1.7k words

There was something wrong with these woods.

You were used to seeing some kind of anomaly in your field studies. Maybe the deer or rabbit population was too high, or you would find that an invasive species was beating out a more native one. It was never crazy though outside of the normal, exhausting sludge that was conservationist work. You were sent out by the local government to different wildlife reserves, or areas that were undeveloped to do some basic surveying and then come back and give them updates.

This forest wasn’t any different, initially. It was a newer addition to your city’s ownership, sold to them by a smaller, dying rural town. There were talks of what to do with the land, but first you had to be sent down to make sure they wouldn’t violate any regulations or kill off an endangered species. Not that they really cared. After all, your job was to get professionally ignored.

So you went in, camping gear and your truck in tow, and you began to explore.

Again, it was normal at first.

It was an average area. Normal flora and fauna. In fact, it was kinda impressive how well the area seemed to be doing. There was hardly any trash, no signs of destruction, no weird occurrences. It made you feel kinda happy. You went about your days just noting stuff down, humming happily all the while.

It was fine until the staring started. It began with a squirrel or two. They would just sit there, unmoving, unblinking, always just in the corner of your vision. Odd, sure, but maybe they were trying to see if they could get some of your food you always carried with you? Days passed and it escalated to a couple of birds added in, perched on branches and hidden by thick leaves. Then some bunnies, not even eating or twitching their little noses.

You thought you were going crazy, but nothing could prepare you for when the bigger animals started doing the same damn thing. The deer were one thing, already unsettling and strange, but having a bear watch you, still as a stagnate pond, was terrifying. You weren’t sure what to make of it. The only time the oddly behaving creatures would move were when either you’d get too close (in which they’d back off) or when you explored the forest (in which they’d follow after you in some sort of procession). 

You noted it all down of course. You assumed that it might be an illness, or perhaps they were used to humans? But they didn’t look unwell, and from what you understood, this place was rather isolated, so there was no reason for them to approach you this often. You felt a sense of growing unease with each passing day, with each filled page in your field journal. This was getting too weird. The thing of note was obviously the staring, but you figured that it was definitely not in your area of expertise.

That’s why, after weeks of camping and surveying the woods, you decided to get the fuck out of there. 

You packed up your campsite with little fanfare, hundreds of tiny gazes trained on your back. You glanced around as you loaded up a final few things into your truck, and you had only just realized then how many of them there were. The fauna crowded around the clearing you had settled in like a bated audience, and you shuddered. If you weren’t getting paid so much to stake it out here, then you probably would’ve hightailed it much faster.

“Okay… got my keys…” You mumbled and shuffled through your pockets quickly to make sure you weren’t leaving anything behind. “Should be good to go now.”

“Go where?”

You spun around, nearly jumping out of your skin in shock. Behind you stood a man, imposingly tall with a stony expression and dark skin. You pressed your hand to your now rapidly beating chest as he towered over you with a tilted head.

“Where are you going?” He repeated, and he prompted out a hand that was seemingly carved out of a deep bark to beckon your words out. You were shocked. His hair was seemingly made of vines connecting him to the earthen ground and shifting in unnatural ways.

“Uhhhh, back home?” Was all you could say in a slightly unsure voice. Seriously, you were at a loss for words. You had never seen such a person, and through your stuttering mind, you were able to guess that whatever was wrong with this place was probably his doing.

The man’s eyebrows (which looked as if they had been carved into his face) furrowed slightly. He placed a hand on his chin in contemplation, his dark hollow eyes and pure emerald pupils narrowing slightly.

“But,” he started, and it felt like his words rung over a hundred times in your head, shaking and lumbering through every node of your soft brain tissue. “But I thought you had come to live here,” He mumbled and reached forward to touch your arm. You flinched back on instinct, and his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Flower…” The man chided softly. His seeking fingers were more insistent this time, and you could not move back quickly enough before he was snatching you up and drawing you close. You cried out softly as you fell against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and sighed, shivering in contentment. You cringed at the feeling of shifting, wriggling grass and vines.

“Flower, surely you must know that you cannot go,” He sighed while he ran his hands over your scalp. You blinked. Flower… why was he calling you this? You pushed him back slightly, just to look him in the face.

“I’m sorry but, who are you?” You asked. It wasn’t just a name thing, but rather to say ‘who do you think you are?’. He hummed in response, and you can see him taking in every little thing about you. Suddenly, he laughed.

“Don’t you think it’s cruel, my flower? You ask my name but I know naught of yours,” He said with affection blooming between every roll of his tongue. Your vision spun, and suddenly your back was pressed against soft earth and damp grass. You gasped and cried out. Before you could even protest, your shirt was ripped open and your pants were pulled down.

“What silly things you wear,” He chuckled and placed kisses along your neck. The feeling was strange, slightly rigid. “Is this what mortals wear nowadays? So revealing,” He murmured and toyed with the shredded fabric. Your eyes were wide, and you tried to wriggle out from under him. He merely grabbed you by the hips and pulled you back, the vines from his hair enveloping you and wrapping around your limbs. You squeaked as your thighs were pulled apart by the coiling greenery, digging into the softer flesh. 

“I must admit,” the man moved back, letting his breath ghost over your parted legs and crotch. “I was rather taken with you from the moment you arrived.” 

The strange man held you down as he buried his rugged face and strangely glowing tongue in your entrance while stroking your privates with grooved, deft fingers. Your back arched, and you desperately tried to break free. Your frantic pleas for release were soon broken by the sounds of your breathy moans, and your voice rang like a bell in the clearing. Each lap of his rugged tongue sent shivers down your spine and had your toes curling. 

“W-what? Stop that! Let me go!”

Your keys were discarded in the grass, and those fucking animals just kept staring. You could see your writhing, pinned form in the reflection of hundreds of deep, black unblinking pools. You felt sick to your stomach, and no amount of fluttering arousal could disguise that.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had company, and you come here looking like that. No, you’re going nowhere, flower.”

It felt like years were passing as he kissed, licked and held your hips in place with a tender firmness that would have you blushing if he was your lover. Or at least a lover you chose. Your begging was drowned out by your own frantic heartbeat and the humiliating squelch of your own pleasure. Never had you faced such cruel adoration, such gentle violence. Any place that had previously shown off exposed skin was kissed in a brief moment of reprieve from the onslaught. Your arms, your calves, your collar bones which had only just peaked out from under the neckline of your shirt.

Your truck, covered in mud, but still rather nice nonetheless, slowly began to be pulled into the ground by the flowers and flora rapidly growing on the vehicle. Your things! You tried to reach for them, but a hand of his reached up and entwined his fingers with yours.

Your screams of both pleasure and fear were carried by the wind, weaving through trees and filling the forest as naturally as the rustle of leaves. He continued to eat you out, and it was like you could feel his words in your head simply from the graze of his palm. It was overwhelming, and with each wave of heat, each tremble of your body, you sank further and further into his hold.

“Oh, look at you, my flower,” He pressed reverent kisses to your naval. “How you shall bloom in my care.”

More pressure, more bitter white flashes dancing across your vision as you keened and cried. Branches rustled around your face, and you wondered when they had even gotten there in the first place. They sprouted from his back and shielded you from the sun and sky. 

“-made for me-”

“-love…”

“Flower…my flower…”

You caught bits and pieces of his voice, nestled in your ears like sticky pollen. It was too much, and all at once you had come undone, spilling over his face with an anguished, strangled noise.

It was hard to think after that. All you could feel, all you could know was that you were being dragged back into those deep, dark, very wrong woods with a loving smile slotted against your lips and flowers in your hair.

[greenwriterplaidbow]

Human Connection

Part I

Logan Howlett x reader with injury related memory loss

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: Inspired by @pandapetals’ memory loss fic (it's taken over all by thoughts since I read it) as well as the song We’ll Never Have Sex by Leith Ross. Sorry in advance, this is probably going to be a series, I was going to make it all one story but it’s already this long and I haven’t gotten to what I wanted to get to.

Warnings: a combination of angst and fluff, suggested feminine reader (called Logan’s wife, she/her used once) but no true descriptions, if you’re an English teacher you’ll hate this because I mix past and present tense verbs. Sorry if it bothers you, it’s my primary grammatical weakness.

The doctor’s words felt monotonous and cold. Logan looked to you. Your eyes trained on the doctor, your blanketed knees pulled up to your chest, your arms loosely held around them. You had been conscious for around 24 hours and he’d hardly seen you. Admittedly at your specific request, ‘your hovering around is making me kinda anxious’ were the exact words. The sting of the words stuck in his mind. The doctor told the two of you the state of your condition, monitoring and treatment outline, and the information needed to fill out the discharge papers. You would walk away mostly fine. You survived the accident, lucky you!

But you didn’t feel lucky. You felt frustrated and unsettled. Maybe even a little scared. You had woken up to a man you’d never seen whispering to you in your sleep, seemingly close to tears. When he noticed you awake he asked you questions you didn’t know the answers to and claimed to be your husband. You had never been married and given the fact that he looked as though he hadn’t showered or slept in days, this was obviously a psych patient who had wandered into your room. But it wasn’t. The doctors could confirm, according to the paperwork and pictures, you were this man’s wife. He’d continued to be around you, he clearly wanted to help in any way he could but you couldn’t handle the way he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.

You had few memories, almost none of them were recent. Not even memories of your own identity were intact. Dissociative amnesia they called it. The staff stressed, to both you and this Logan guy, that your memories needed to come back on their own, he shouldn’t just tell you memories. He was allowed to help fill in details or answer small questions but that’s it. They said the best thing you could do right now would be to go back to your routine. They told him to act normal towards you as much as possible. You didn’t even know what that would look like. It was weird being addressed as a unit. Talked to like he was ‘your other half’ or whatever people say.

“Here is the form. Either of you can fill it out, I’ll just need both of your signatures at the bottom.” The nurse’s words snap you back to reality. You nod and take the form. She checks your levels one last time before leaving you and the man alone in the room. You concentrate on the papers in front of you. You first take the pen off the clip board with your left hand then look at it confused. You stare a moment before shifting it to your right hand, then back to your left before just setting it down again and leaning over the small table as you breathe out slowly.

“You’re right handed.” The man said quietly.

You look over at him. He sits on your left side. His knees are wide apart as he leans his body forward resting his forearms on his thighs with his fingers interlaced. He was watching you struggle with the pen. You nod slowly and pick up the pen with your right hand this time. You adjust your hand to hold it properly. It feels no more comfortable than in your left but you had to start somewhere. Okay first blank, patient name. Easy enough. You write your first name, middle initial, and-

You stop in your tracks. If you’re married, you wouldn’t necessarily have the same last name that you remember. You sit and think for a moment, determined to figure it out but you keep drawing a blank. An owl was the only thing that came to your mind when you thought of your last name. You bit the inside of your cheek before you sighed frustratedly. You put the pen back on the clipboard and slid the small table towards the man.

“Can you do this?�� He perked up at your words.

“Yes- of course”

A small smile showed on his face as he took the clipboard, apparently happy to help. He filled in the blanks quickly as if he didn’t even have to think about the answers. Jealousy and shame flowed into your chest. Jealous that this random man knows you better than you know yourself. Shameful because of the pressure you’re already putting on yourself. You’ve always been independent. You like it that way. You like being known as the girl who has a man because she wants one not because she needs something from one. But now, you have no choice but to put your entire trust in someone you don’t know. Trust that he was going to tell you the truth about yourself. Trust he was going to remember what meds you needed and when to take them. Trust he was going to keep you safe both from yourself and someone who might want to take advantage of your current situation. The vulnerability it took to ask for help was already wearing away at your self esteem.

“Think that’s it. I’ll go bring this to the-”

“Wait, can I look at it first” Your hesitation was evident by the little shake in your voice.

“Sure but I promise, I know most of this by heart. And the stuff I didn’t know I got a refresher for when I filled out your admission forms.” He said it, clearly trying to make conversation but it only made you feel worse. You scanned over the form. Your birthday was the only thing you remembered, aside from your name but you didn’t even remember all of that so it didn’t quite feel the same.

“Howlett” You read the name off the sheet. It felt strange to say, even more so to think it now belonged to you.

“Yeah, that’s our last name.” You nodded and handed the form back and buried your head in your knees.

“What’s wrong? Are you starting to feel worse again?” You took a pause before answering him. When you raised your head, his eyes met yours and he could see tears welling up in them.

“I don’t even know my own stupid name- or my dominant hand. I feel so useless.” Logan set the form back on the table and knelt at your bedside.

“Hey, you are not useless. You’re sick right now, don’t be too hard on yourself. I’m here and I’ll help you with anything you need. I promise. I can help fill in what you don’t know”

“Thanks.. I know you’re trying to make me feel better but knowing that you know all this and I don’t, really only makes me feel worse. This guy I don’t even know knows more about me than I do.” You could immediately see the pain on his face from your statement. Another reminder that he was included in the gaps that still needed to be filled in.

“It- It’ll come back to you. You’ll be back to yourself in no time.” He said as he stood up. It sounded like the statement was just as much to comfort him as it was to comfort you.

“I’ll be right back.” You nodded and he left the room with the clipboard.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You changed into the clothes Logan brought you. When you were all set to leave, you were told about your follow up appointment and picked up your meds. The two of you left the hospital and walked to Logan’s truck in the parking lot. He opened the door for you and held out his arm behind you as you climbed in to ensure you wouldn’t fall. You took note of the sweet gesture. Once he got into the drivers side, he slung the backpack that had held your clothes and now held your collection of meds onto the backseat. The drive was silent for a while before you broke the ice.

“I can not believe I married a man who drives a truck.” You half-joked as your fingers played with the wedding ring you still wore.

He smiled a little sadly, both amused at your distaste for truck owners and saddened at the reminder that you didn’t remember the man you married. He swallowed down his sadness to joke with you.

“Yeah? And what kind of man would you marry?” His unexpected response made you blush.

“Well, I don’t know.. Honestly I haven’t given it much thought. I guess I’m just not the marriage type.” Logan laughed quietly.

“Yeah- I guess you’d know that already.”

“No, no. It’s not that. It’s just funny that you think you’re the one who wasn’t marriage material. Normally people think that about me, not you.”

“Don’t be close minded- maybe neither of us are marriage material! Maybe those are the kinds that marry each other. I doubt most of those relationships last long though..” You regretted the words as soon as you realized what you had said.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sure we’re very happy.” You bit your lip and kept your eyes glued to your hands twiddling in your lap.

Logan didn’t know what to say so he opted to say nothing. The sound of the running engine and the wind outside the vehicle were the only sounds between you. Your thoughts were swarming in your mind. You turned your eyes to the window, trying to turn off your brain and just observe the unfamiliar scenery. Trees consumed the road on either side. You saw on the form that you lived in New York in some town you hadn’t heard of.

“So how far into the woods do we live?” You turn back towards him as you said it.

“Close enough to walk into town but far enough that we don’t see our neighbors unless we’re trying to.”

You nodded and made a sound of acknowledgement.

“That’s why you smell like pine?”

“Uh, I guess. Didn’t realize I did. I guess I’m just used to it.”

“That would make sense.” You lost interest in the conversation when you realized you had turned onto a side road. From the side road you went up a driveway.

He wasn’t kidding, if you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t know there was anyone even remotely close. Trees seemed to swallow you whole as you approached the house.

“Look familiar?” He asked tentatively. You studied the outside of the house then the inside as you pulled into the garage. You wanted to say yes but in reality it looked entirely foreign.

“No, sorry.” You answered softly.

“That’s alright, I was just curious.” He tried to keep the longing sadness from his voice. He was not successful. He grabbed the backpack and left the truck. You followed him but your eyes couldn’t help traveling over the room. You stepped inside the house and mirrored Logan as he took off his boots and placed them behind the door.

He watched your movements as you hesitantly followed him. He smiled at the realization that you were almost acting like a puppy dog, eager to take in information and follow instructions but still tentative about both him and the surroundings.

“I should probably show you around,”

“Yes, please.”

It was a split level house. He showed you the basement first. The guest room, storage room, furnace room, a mostly unused living room. He explained small things about each room when necessary. As you headed back up the stairs you felt brave enough to ask more questions.

“So we live alone? Just the two of us?”

“Yeah, why?”

“No pets? No family? No transient friends that feel comfortable enough to invite themselves over when they need a place to stay? Nothing?” Your question made Logan visibly nervous. He now stood across from you as you stood at the top of the steps.

“Uh, no. Not really. Why?” His confusion was mixing with anxiety.

“No reason.”

“..Are you uncomfortable staying alone with me?” His expression looked sad but understanding.

“Oh no, not that. Well a little. But no, that’s not why I asked.” He was silent waiting for you to explain, which you did when the silence became too uncomfortable. You forced your eyes to stay on his when you finally spoke.

“I’m just worried about you. You’re dealing with a lot, you should be with other people. People who care about you and know how to take your mind off everything. I just don’t want you to burn yourself out trying to do all this alone.” Your words hit him like a train. You were the one who was sick and you still worried about him, even when he was a complete stranger to you. He looked like he could cry. He took a half step towards you before stopping himself,

“Can I hug you?”

You nodded as you took a step closer to him, embracing him. His large arms engulfed your shoulders. He held you close like you might spontaneously vanish if he didn’t anchor you to himself. Your arms came around to his upper back where you rubbed his back lightly, trying to comfort him. When your nails softly scratched against his shirt, his face nuzzled deeper into your neck. You couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. Not that you cared either way, you understood. You couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling. This large, strange, kind man had completely bent himself over backwards just to take care of you. The least you could do is try and comfort him. The two of you stood there for longer than either of you thought you would. He gave you one final squeeze before parting. He kept his hands on your shoulders for a second as he looked at you. He sniffed as he looked away and took a few steps back.

“Sorry.” His breathing was unsteady.

“Don’t be.” You shrugged. “You’re allowed to be sad. You’re kind of grieving, in a way.” Your words were meant to be comforting as much as forcing him to face the reality of the situation.

“Don’t say that, you’re going to remember. It just takes time.” There was a desperation in his voice. Like he was trying to convince you both.

“I know. I’m not saying I won’t. But right now, you’re living with someone who doesn’t know you.. The woman you know, the woman you love, is as good as dead. As of right now anyways.” He studied your face as you said it and nodded after you’d finished speaking. He bridged the gap between the two of you once more to press a kiss onto your forehead. He sighed but didn’t pull away from you when he spoke.

“Let me finish showing you around.” He whispered the words warmly against your skin.

“Okay.” You whispered in return.

As promised, he showed you the living room, kitchen, and dining area; all close together at the top of the steps. Down the hall there was a bathroom, an office, and finally your shared bedroom. He lets you walk into the room, he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. You cautiously walked around the room, taking everything in. The walls were a calm green that paired well with the browns and yellows of most other things in the room. On the nightstand closest to the door there was an assortment of crystals, papers, wire wrapped shells, chapstick, handwritten notes, bracelets sitting inside a teacup, a clock, and a pair of glasses. You turned back to Logan.

“This is my side of the bed?” He nodded. You opened the drawers of your nightstand. Books, sleeping meds, pen and paper, nothing of interest upon first glance. You walked over to the other side, glancing back at Logan, searching his face for permission to poke around. You couldn’t read his expression.

“Mind if I snoop?”

“Go ahead. It’s all stuff you’ve seen before.”

You tried to turn your full attention to his nightstand but you could see him move out of the corner of your eye. He entered what you assumed was the closet, which was currently behind you. Back to trying to learn about Logan through how he kept his things. His nightstand was less cluttered than yours. There was a notepad and pen, reading glasses, a clock matching yours, and three pictures of you. One was in a frame, one was a polaroid, and the last one was printed out, you’d guess from a digital camera. All pictures were in places you didn’t remember with people you didn’t recognize. You looked happy. The picture in a frame was from your wedding. Logan and you were all dressed up, looking at each other. Although it was clear the two of you were posing, your smiles seemed genuine. The other two were candids, laughing with friends in one while in the other your face held a look of recognition like someone took the photo right as you saw the camera. You were happy or relieved to see whoever was holding the camera. You guessed Logan himself based on your relationship and where you found the photo.

“Sorry,” He moved past you and set his phone on his nightstand.

“I’m going to go shower. You’re welcome to as well, I’ll shower downstairs so if you want to, the option is there. Or wait until later, I just don’t want to smell like the hospital anymore”

“Yeah I will probably take you up on that, where do I keep my clothes?”

He directed you to where you keep your pajamas as well as showing you to your half of the closet, pointing out where you keep underwear and socks.

“Let me know if you need anything.” You nodded and thanked him. He went downstairs. You felt like looking around some more. A bin of stuffed animals under your side of the bed. Saw the books on the shelves in the office. Check out the cupboards, familiarize yourself with where things belong. Out the kitchen window, the woods catch your eye. You feel a sudden urge to go walking in the wet grass. You look towards the lower level then back at the back door. You’d surely be back before he was out of the shower. You just needed to indulge this feeling. Then you’d come right back. It’s midday, it’s not like it is dangerous at this hour.

You step out onto the patio. You walked in the directions you felt pulled in. Following some imaginary trail, bare feet sinking into the puddles in the grass. It had been an especially wet April and the heavy clouds overhead suggested tonight would follow the trend. You found a hammock in a small clearing not far from the house. You sat upright on it, like a swing. You crossed your ankles and leaned forward, palms placed beside your knees, pressing onto the fabric beneath you. The silence felt comfortable. You relaxed more than you had been in recent days. The silence allowed your mind to wander through your thoughts just as you had through the trees. The calm around you soon contrasted with the spiraling thoughts that took over your mind. It didn't feel like you had forgotten anything but logically, you knew years had passed since the last things you remember. Logically you knew Logan had to know you intimately and clearly cared deeply for you but, you didn't know how to make yourself return his feelings. There was guilt in not being who you were apparently supposed to be. You hated the pained look in his eyes he when stared at you. The hot tears that rolled down your face contrasted with the cool air around you. Your face hung down and your eyes traced the ground through blurred vision. You felt like you had been sitting here for hours. Your thoughts drowned out the once comfortable silence and along with it, Logan's panicked voice in the distance. He stumbled into the clearing.

"Jesus-” He huffed, catching his breath. “Don't run off like that. What the hell are you doing out here? How did you know where this was? Did you remember something?"

His rapid fire questions and loud voice were overwhelming.

"N-no, I don't know. I just felt like this is where I should go. I didn't mean to worry you- please don't yell at me" your plea took him by surprise as he realized his worry made him louder than he intended. He took a quick step towards you and you unconsciously flinched. He took care to make the last steps toward you slower before he crouched down so he was looking up at you. There was a gentleness that now replaced the panic in his voice.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.. I didn't know where you were or what happened. I just- you're not yourself right now, even if you had your memories, you still have a brain injury. I just don't want you to get lost. At least if you're going to go exploring, leave a note?"

You nodded and wiped away tears from your face.

"Do you want me to leave you alone out here for a while?"

"No, I'll come in with you.. I really don't know why I came out here, it just felt like I should. I don't know why." You still tried to explain yourself as you got up from your spot. Logan stood up and started leading towards the house.

"Maybe subconsciously you remember coming out here."

"Maybe.. I don't know why I would. It's not exactly nice out."

"You didn't just go when it was nice, you like being out there when you feel upset. Sometimes if we have a fight you'll go sit out there for a while. Sometimes you're upset with someone else and you drag me out there with you and tell me about it. You just don't like bringing that stuff home."

"Oh. Am I out there a lot?"

"No, not really. Sometimes you have a bad week and you'll be out a few days in a row but that's not very common. Just once in a blue moon, as you'd say." He smiles at the memory as he opens the door for you. You step in and dry your feet on the mat. He takes off his shoes and carries them to the front door. As he walked off you noticed his hair was wet and a t-shirt and plaid pajama pants had replaced his flannel and jeans from the hospital. You could really see how muscular he was through his shirt that hugged him tighter than the flannel did.

“You look better than you did at the hospital.”

“Hm? Oh, thanks.”

“Don't get me wrong you pull off the disheveled look but now you look better, like people wouldn't worry about you if they saw you like this.”

“Not sure that's the compliment you think it is.” He smiled as he said it.

“I'm aware. Still felt like you should hear it.”

“Whatever you say. Do you still want to shower now or do you want to wait until later tonight?”

“No, I'll just get in now.”

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You leaned your face towards the bottle of the more feminine looking soap, assuming it was yours, trying to use it as an olfactory trigger. It didn’t work. You got out of the shower and dried your hair in front of the mirror and something caught your eye. Your skin carried stories in the form of deep scars that decorated your body. Old bullet wounds and healed cuts lied among the new gashes and scratches from your accident. You ran your hands over some of the small lines of scar tissue, unsure if you wanted to know the stories they had to tell. You rewrapped your bandages. The bandages and cuts from your accident made you glad to have such baggy pajamas.

You left the bathroom after getting dressed and found Logan laying on your side of the bed, staring at the ceiling. He sat up when you came into the room, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Oh, hey- Sorry I know this is your side, I just-” He stumbled over his words while trying to justify his actions but you cut him off.

“You don’t need to explain, it’s alright.” You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. The kind you’d give a stranger who held a door for you.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You spend the rest of the evening on the couch, doodling next to Logan as he reads some papers. Neither of you spoke. Eventually it came time for you to go to bed, forcing the two of you into conversation.

“I can sleep in the guest room, if you’d be more comfortable that way.” He offered as he walked you to the bedroom.

“That’s all the way downstairs, right?” You looked up at him as you sat on the bed.

“Yes.”

“Then no..” You paused after saying it.

“I can stay up here on the couch if you want me to be closer. Whatever you want.”

You shook your head adamantly. “Not whatever I want, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”

“Baby, I would be happy as a clam at high tide just sleeping on the floor at the foot of our bed.” The way the pet name so easily left his lips made you blush.

“W-well- you can be just as happy sleeping in your own bed.” He sighed in defeat before nodding.

“Alright. I can do that.” He shut the door behind him as he walked into the room.

“Given your apprehension to stay in the same bed, I assume it goes without saying but, I still don’t know you.. For you, you’re sleeping next to your wife but for me, I’m sleeping next to this man I met yesterday.. I just..” You trailed off.

“I’ll stay on my side of the bed, no problem.” He finished your thought casually.

“Thanks..”

“Of course, I just want you to feel comfortable and safe in your own home.”

“That.. means a lot. Thank you Logan.” He nodded before shutting off the lamp on his side of the bed.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

It wasn’t a particularly cold night but you still felt a chill creep over your skin under the blankets. To your memory, you had slept alone most nights so this was what you were used to. So why did you feel more alone than ever with Logan less than a foot away? You could feel the heat ghosting off his skin even from where you laid. The loneliness sank into your chest making you feel colder than you actually were. You mentally fought yourself, it was only a few hours ago that you were telling him not to touch you and now you were considering asking him to put his arm around you? Talk about mixed messages. What if he was the type of guy to take approval to cross one boundary as approval to do whatever he wanted? What if he thought this meant you had your memories again? What if-

Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Logan sighing quietly as he rolled over and shifted to get comfortable. He was awake. If you were going to ask, now would be the best time, right? You gathered your courage before you spoke.

“Logan?” You asked barely at a whisper.

“Hm?” His sleepy reply made you feel guilty for bothering him.

“Could you- .. I mean if you wanted to you could- you don’t have to but.. Um. Would you put your arm around me?”

“You want me to hold you?”

“I mean.. Only if you want to. I just- It’s cold over here and I can feel the heat coming off of you and I- .. I just feel so lonely for some reason.” Your voice dropped even quieter as you ended your statement.

“Yes, of course I will. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like; you’re allowed to push me back over to my side, alright?” You nodded as he pulled you into his broad chest. He felt warm and comforting. He kept his hand innocently at your abdomen. The two of you both slept the best you had all week. Tangled together like lovers.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Author's second note! Thank you for reading my first true fanfiction that's been put on Beyoncé's public internet for anyone to judge. Speaking of judging I'm very open to feedback if you have any.

I want to have the next part up soon but tragically, I have two big projects coming up not to mention finals week. College is eating me alive so we'll see when I string enough coherent sentences together the next part.

PS I'm still trying to figure out pictures so that's why these three at at the bottom. If I figure it out, I'll add them at the top but uhhh we'll see

I FIGURED IT OUT LETS GOO

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #25

New Year, New Me?

Imagine dis…

We all know that when Danny died, he changed. From his black hair and blue-eyed kid to a white-haired and green-eyed ghost kid. We also know that ghosts were once humans just misunderstood, had unfinished business, or were just out for the injustice they have faced in the face of death.

But what if Danny is just a baby ghost in every sense and now, he is getting more powerful and more tuned in with his ghostly side that he began to change?

…

Danny knew that there was something wrong with him, not just the fact that he had died and came back alive and well that’s a whole other story. The fact that there is something wrong with his ghostly side, that to the point it began affecting his human side. His jaw began to ache and when he looked into the mirror he saw some of his teeth beginning to sharpen like a canine would, his hair looked like it wasn’t held by gravity as his parents had chalked it up with him using a different type of conditioner to make it more fluffy, his skin began having these weird spams in the middle of the day as well his uncanny need to stay in a cold room Mr. Lancer swore 10 book titles under his breath when he saw him taking a nap inside the cafeteria fridge.

But the worst of it came when he fought Skulker, it was another normal Thursday for the Halfa but as he was fighting off Skulker who was already spewing out his usual rant about mounting his pelt he saw another figure. Behind Skulker is another figure that looked like him more shadowy yet bloodied, covered in rusty metal that he swore he heard it creaking as if two metals were grinding to each other, with each move that Skulker made. Seeing he was distracted Skulker made a lucky hit to him as if he was back in his first year as a ghost. Danny shook his head and immediately souped the ghost and tried to forget the more horrific and unsettling version of Shulker.

Danny tried to hide it but when his friends and sister began noticing his changes, they made him visit the Far Frozen.

Frostbite was confused and worried at his changes and explained to Danny in great detail that what he was going through was a ghostly equivalent to puberty.

Since he had recently died his ghostly side had registered him being a baby despite being in his teens in his human. Normally ghost children would not transition after 5 centuries as they have not only been deemed absorbed enough ectoplasm but also have been mature enough a good example would be Box Lunch who was barely 146 years old while Youngblood was nearing his transition.

Frostbite offered a conclusion that it may be a fact that he slept on top of the active portal which leaks massive ectoplasm radiation and when he fought off ghosts who are centuries older and more experienced than him made his ghostly side mature faster, like how children were forced to mature faster when incompetent parents are around. Now that he has not only become more attuned or in one with his ghostly side, but his ghostly side is also slowly forming his eldritch abomination kinda like human symptoms of puberty like broadening of shoulder, pitch voice…etc, Frostbite explained.

Danny asked about his sight when Skulker visited him as well he felt that time. Danny was still distraught when he went home but when he had the time to process what he saw, instead of feeling scared or deep panic at what he saw instead felt a deep relief at the image.

Frostbite told Danny since he is transitioning to becoming a young adult, what he is seeing is the true form of ghosts.

The citizens of the Infinite Realms are naturally terrifying, gruesome, ghastly, ghoulish…etc for years there had been no problem with their appearance but when the first Ancients went to visit a mortal plane for an official Realm duty, they were horrified to see that not only humans scream with pure unaltered fear but also went brain dead the moment they laid their eyes on the said Ancients as their minds cannot comprehend the sheer true form of the said Ancients. As the said Ancients felt guilty for what they had caused the humans went in a vegetable state and began practicing into shifting into a more humane form, something more modest as to when they visit another mortal world in case of another duty. As the practice was only practiced in a small island that the Ancients ruled it soon spread out to the entire Realms. It spread so far that even other Ancients began copying it and it didn’t take too long for it to become a norm.

So when the Fenton portal as well as Vlad’s portal opened it became instinctive for the ghosts to pass through to where their more “humane” side and only show their real appearance in their haunt or when they have a mate or to their respective fight mates.

Frostbite gave him something for the pain and offered to help Danny with his transition, which Danny gratefully thanked the yeti and flew off.

Since then he slowly yet surely became accustomed to the changes to himself as he felt more him. His friends and sister tried to hide it from the Fenton couple despite being oblivious that they would surely notice the changes. Fake teeth and make-up did their thing as Sam may not enjoy the pinkish/feminine side of her make-up collection courtesy of her parents but sure damn well those foundations are of good quality.

His ghostly companions that came for their weekly brawl began noticing the large shadow behind their local halfa, some were horrified as they thought they were fighting a baby all this time and were just in their transition but others had congratulated Danny for basically growing up. Maturing? Transitioning? They don’t know the right word but hell yeah they are proud.

Add to the fact that he just became the Ghost King, which means that his ghostly side will be more horrific, gory, and ghastly than a usual ghost as their real form reflects their strength.

…

Danny didn’t know but for some reason, Amnity’s CPS launched an investigation into the Fenton couple. Had found out that having a house? Structure? Home? Full of weapons is not a viable home for a teenage boy like himself and was promptly removed from their custody and the premises. Of course, the Fenton couple tried to fight off the verdict, heck even Vlad tried to help the two for the sake of Maddie and even tried to have Danny placed with him.

In the end, Danny is relocated to a far place away from his parents as well as his godfather one of the CPS workers pointed out that Danny has bruises every time, he visits Vlad which puts him under the scrutiny of a different kind of investigation as well.

Jazz was considered out of the hostile environment as she had just moved from their home to her dorm and had just been given a protection order that said that her parents including Vlad were to stay away from her as well as have no contact with the said individuals as it may affect the proceedings.

Danny bounced from one foster to another up until he ended up with the foster parent who had the greatest record, Bruce Wayne himself.

At first, Danny tries every trick he can think of in the book to be removed as well as isolating himself within his room in the manor to be transferred as the moment he went ghost to look at his surroundings and saw the secret basement as well the Wayne family being the glorified furry brigade he wants out! He is not sharing a roof with a fruit loop thank you very much, but as the days went by he began getting used to the Waynes and thought that he may have grown to the Waynes.

Though how come Duke smiled too tight whenever he saw him?

…

Duke knew there was something wrong with the new kid. Don’t get him wrong black hair, and blue eyes alongside a so, so situation with his parents made him the prime adoption bait for the family. They were just waiting for him to discover the cave on his own to be officially introduced to the family. But there is something so wrong with Danny.

Sure, his diet tends to have his meat lean more on the medium rare side or even to the bloody side, and chalked it up to growing up not learning how to properly cook and brushing it off.

Sure he is too quiet to the point he is scaring and surprising highly trained vigilantes which has multiple people being trained by the best in the world.

Sure he tends to go to places which is cold, too cold for his liking, Alfred nearly had a heart attack seeing Danny sleeping in the large freezer which contained the meat and other perishable items that needed to be frozen to preserve.

But the biggest thing that made Duke uneasy was the shadow looming over Danny. It was huge to the point it reached the manor ceilings. Its very green toxic eyes seemed to lock on him every time he entered the room. Duke accidentally made eye contact when he is hanging out with Dick, Tim, and Danny. It practically swallowed him whole with the way it looked at him, it made all of his hair straighten up. Dick who noticed him froze up and asked him what was wrong, he excised himself and ran to the farthest corner of the manor and proceeded to throw up his lunch due to the unspeakable things that things showed to him.

(In reality, Danny’s ghostly side is trying to show Duke what would he do to his enemies as well as to whomever harmed them)

Duke is now contemplating what to tell the rest of the Batclan how Danny is cursed. Haunted? and have them call Zatanna or Constantine to get rid of whatever it is.

…

PS: If someone out there wanted to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see I cannot write horror to save my life so please pardon me, I tried my best…:-P

[thatcatangelwriter]

I think after her time at the spider society gwen can be very creepy at times, but like doesn't realize it or register it well.

Like she's gwen stacy. The cursed lover. The doomed girl. She is the face of thousands of corpses. The face of thousands of what ifs. A bittersweet dream. A constant longing.

Most of the time when people look at her they don't see her they see someone else. Her simply existing turns the entire society into a haunted house. She's a ghost, she's better off invisible and while I don't think it's intentional she gets pushed to the side a lot by most people I think Miguel, Jess and Peter might be the exception in this concept but even then its gets complicated due to her connection with Miles and eventually this kinda starts rubbing off in an unsettling way.

Gwen is implied to be very high ranking in the society. Jess calls her "her star pupil" and Lyla warned Gwen about the spot before Hobie and Pavitr. And Miguel's "You knew better, Gwen !" She justs seems to be a part of Miguel's gang of higher ups with Peter B and Jess and all that and considering the fact that she's been there for just a few months that's saying something.

I think Gwen took a lot of training and missions to prove herself, and maybe Miguel sent her on more missions to distract her from Miles and stuff. Hell he might have trained her along with Jessica at times which considering how stern they can be I wouldn't be suprised if this rubbed off on gwen who didn't really have anyone else besides Peter and Hobie. Like she has been Spider Woman more than gwen stacy at this point.

Speaking of Spider Woman, I think it's a good time to bring up how gwen's mental state gets fucked up around her identity as a superhero and how it plays into my idea of her being creepy thing. Because like Spider Woman is litteraly considered a murderer in her dimension and isn't very liked. And while yes its true that in most universes Spider Man has its haters. It's way worse in Gwen's dimension like in the comics she gets shocked when people thank her kinda bad. She has supporters but sadly the people who call her a monster are the most vocal. Like even her dad saw Spider Woman that way and even after finding out who she was still pulled a gun at her face so yeah.

Gwen already blames herself for Peter's death and general public opinion doesn't really help with leaving that guilt behind. She internalizes those things. So I think that do her deep internal feelings Gwen might be at times more ruthless and violent than your typical spider hero which can already be shocking especially in contrast to how graceful she can be as spider woman . I don't think she wants to be. But i think its just the internal intrusive thought "No matter what I do I am a monster why pull back ?" And with her whole canon event I think she might be prone to being reckless and throwing herself at danger and being the one to make the biggest sacrifice because hey she is already fated to die.

So yeah I think that at times when the stakes are high Gwen is one of the scariest spiders when she snaps. Like the treatment she received and internalized kinda jumps out and its not pretty at all. And even just in context of her not being in a mission i still think she can be cryptid looking because she kinda acts like she's invisible and just avoids being noticed due to all the peters around.

Like just imagine her beat up with a broken mask and all you see are her cold eyes and its weird because its almost like you have a dead person staring at you and in some ways that's exactly what it is. Or her accidentally scaring people because she's so quiet that they don't see her coming.

Just her looking like a dead girl walking and yeah maybe in a way she is but...it just looks to real and unsettling.

One last thing about this, Miles notices and hates every second of it. In fact I think all of her close friends hate it.

[sociopathicartist]

In case I don’t tell you enough, I love you.

a letter from sans directed to you, his lover.

y/n,

it’s been five years since monsterkind was freed from the surface.

it’s been four years since i’ve met you.

it’s april, and i’m still missing you.

maybe it’s stupid of me to miss you considering that i left your house only a few hours ago, and i’m laying in bed writing this on some loose paper i found on my floor while i think of you.

weirdly enough, the silence in my room is now unsettling compared to how calming it used to be. i guess the fan in your room blowing wind on your bed that i’ve yet to see turned off has grown on me. or maybe it’s the rain sounds you always have playing on your tv that clash with the fan that grew on me.

or maybe it’s you that's grown on me.

sometimes when i have a nightmare or i can't sleep i play fan and rain sounds on youtube to help me rest, not even thinking consciously about it anymore. it always just makes me feel like i’m back in bed with you with my eyes closed, waiting for you to come back from the kitchen with the glass of water that you wanted.

i wish that i could sum it up and say i can't find the words to describe how i feel, but that’s a lie. i know exactly how i feel about you.

tracing my phalanges along the little scars and nicks of your skin when i’m next to you never fails to entertain me. neither does running my hand through your hair, or twisting the rings on your fingers, or kissing you quickly for the 1000th time. i never thought i would be fond of that sort of stuff, i never thought i was a guy for any sort of romance.

i guess i just never realized that all i needed was the right person to give it to me. all i needed was you.

i’m not the best writer. even my lab logs from the rare times when i help alphys with her scientific tests are messy and short out. it’s almost like having all these thoughts about you is starting to eat me alive. i guess i have nowhere else to put them but on a piece of paper. if we ever get married one day like i hope we do, i’d like to give this to you. who knows when that will be though, so i guess this letter will just sit in one of my drawers collecting dust until i can give it to you. it kinda sucks to think about the fact that these words might never reach you, but that’s the way life is. it sucks most of the time.

i get this weird sinking feeling in my ribs near where my soul rests sometimes. it’s mostly when i think about how i miss you. sometimes my hand reaches up and brushes up and down my shoulder blade when i’m lying in bed alone, mimicking the motion that your hand does to me all the time when we lay together. i don’t even notice it happens anymore, but when i do and i realize you’re not actually there, that’s when that weird sinking feeling happens. it also happens on the rare thought of you not being in my future one day, even though i know that won't happen. i know you wouldn’t leave me.

i can’t help but wonder what this feeling was before i met you, and why i never got it.

was i just empty all the time?

even though i remember in great detail why my depression was so bad back then, back before i met you, i guess these happy years with everyone have slowly washed away that feeling. i felt so horrible for so long, and i didn’t care to ever try and get better because there was no point back then, but for some reason whenever i try to think of what was there in my life that i had like this, it’s almost numbed away from my memories. it’s like a bad nightmare that got washed away with the morning light.

that’s not to say i’m not thankful and glad i’m doing better now. sure, i’m still working things out, but who isn’t? i don’t think i wouldn’t have ever actually gotten help if it wasn’t for you, though. you’re really the only person who's ever seen me so clearly. i love how i don’t even have to tell you if something is wrong anymore, you just look at me and know. did you know that i’ve never had anyone take the time to notice the small difference between my genuine smile versus my resting and permanent one? the day you pointed that out to me was the day i realized i liked you.

i also thought it would take me a while to realize when i liked someone seriously. i think the last time i ever had a crush was… actually, i can’t remember. in the movies and books, it’s always the same scenario of ‘i like you but i haven’t liked anyone before so i don’t realize i like you until it’s too late’ but that wasn’t the case. i knew the moment i liked you.

it was this odd twinge in me that just kinda sprung throughout my bones. i think it’s the same equivalent of getting butterflies in your stomach, but without a stomach. i noticed your looks before, and i guess this sounds weird to say, but it was like after so long of friendship that i actually… noticed you.

you looked so beautiful, and you still do.

the shock at work and from other people was really funny when they found out we were dating. i don’t think they ever actually thought i’d find someone to settle down with. our friends knew better though. as shocked as our friends tried to act, it was pretty obvious that they were expecting it. i can’t believe it was that obvious that we liked each other.

there’s no big resolution to writing this. i just felt like writing it so that i could share the feelings i feel about you but that i forget to say when we are around each other. it’s not like i can get a single word in with how much you smooch on me though. not that i mind.

it’s not to say that if my puns ever get too much for you, or if you decide that i’m too lazy and you feel like you can’t leave, you can. i just really don’t want you to. i have a strong feeling that you don’t ever want to leave either.

i can’t wait to see how the rest of our lives turn out together. when we move in, get married, and just enjoy each other’s time. i know it’s crazy to hear from me, but i can’t wait to do the dishes with you and put away the laundry as you fold it. i can’t wait to enjoy your company every day one day. i know it’s a bit selfish, but i hope that things stay like this forever.

i hope that you get to read this one day, and in case i don’t tell you enough, i love you.

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove (part six)

Leon Kennedy x female reader - the slowest, slow burn I swear Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five.

After the two of you had finished dinner, you’d began clicking through the channels in search of something to watch. It was far too early to go to bed, or even pretend to go to it - you’d just be staring at the ceiling, alone with your thoughts. Leon had insisted on taking the dishes to the kitchen despite your offer to help, said he’d leave them in the sink to soak. You know that’s a task you’re not going to be able to handle until your arm is free of the sling, fingers unsplintered. You want to say you’ll do all the cooking and cleaning when you can, but that implies that you think you’ll still be in the safe house, with him, in however long it’ll take to be free of the sling...

By all intents and purposes, Leon had planned to wait until you’d gone to bed to pull together his report, but the fact that Hunnigan hadn’t replied to his text yet was giving him an unsettled feeling in his gut. Maybe she was doing it on purpose, tit for tat - no information for him until he gave information to her.

After setting the dishes and pan in soapy water to return to later, he’d come back to the sofa and picked the laptop up off the coffee table, almost reluctantly.

“Er, I’m gonna start my report now, if that’s all right?”

You look at him, noting the laptop now tucked under his arm. The report, of course – he hadn’t typed it up yet, couldn’t have, not when you’d sobbed and then napped all over him.

It’s like emotional whiplash - the soft, almost domestic moments where you could pretend this whole situation was normal - it’s dinner and a movie with a friend, first date vibes but both of you too cautious to make a move.

And then there’s the startling reminder that, no, actually, you’re not even home, in a one-bedroom bungalow, no idea where you are in the state, or what state, with a man, a bodyguard you hardly know, after very nearly being murdered the day before and could possibly be murdered in the days to come.

You must’ve stared too long in response as he raises his arm to rub the back of his head – you wonder if it’s a nervous habit.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Dove. The report’s just a formality after the interview earlier, and it’s better that I submit today. It’s fine if you’d prefer not to be in the room, though. If you’re not comfortable, I can wait until you’ve gone to bed.”

“Oh… No, go ahead.”

“Are you sure? I’ll be listening over the audio again but I’ll use headphones, so…”

“Yeah. It’s fine – needs to be done, as you said.” You smile, turning your head back to the TV to end the conversation.

Leon had sat on the other couch, laptop resting on his knees, plugged in a pair of in-ear headphones. For over an hour, you’d heard him tap away at the keys, brows furrowed in concentration when you’d chance a look his way. The last few times his eyes haven’t been on the laptop screen but that of the TV, watching the dumb romance movie you’d settled on during your channel searching, hoping it would prove a good distraction.

“Leon…” You feel rude for interrupting his work, but he’d tugged out an earbud, hasn’t typed anything in a good while now, definitely not since the last ad break.

Not that you were keeping track.

“Mm?” He hums in response.

“Can I…?” He looks over as you clear your throat - start over. “Can I ask you something? If you’ve got a minute.”

There it is - the encouraging smile. “Of course, Dove.”

“It’s going to sound stupid, but those things – were they BOWs?”

“The Lickers?” The smile drops as he tugs out the other earbud. “Yeah, they are.”

“Lickers?” It sounds too cutesy for what they are, like a lollipop brand for kids and not indescribable monstrosities.

“There’s probably some scientific name that Umbrella would use, but that term came from a cop that first saw them in the Raccoon City Police Department. I guess we kinda kept the name as a weird tribute.”

“Right.” Maybe it was the cop’s way of trying to make them less terrifying on first sight.

“Why do you ask?”

“I didn’t think BOWs were actually…” You swallow, though you know it’s not going to dislodge the lump in your throat now. “..things, if that makes sense. Like, I knew we were trying to protect the public from biological warfare threats, but I thought it was man-made diseases, or poisoning the water supply… That sort of stuff.”

“You’re not wrong. Those things were once human, mutated by a man-made virus. I’ve had a fair amount of experience with different iterations of the virus over the years, unfortunately.”

“Mutated…?” You feel sick as the image once again flashes in your mind’s eye, the grotesque features of the Lickers juxtaposed with those of humans, your colleagues… “Fuck.”

“Yeah - fuck.”

“God,” you exhale, but it doesn’t feel enough. “I’ve been so naïve to what I’ve even been doing all these years - I didn’t know what we were actually trying to prevent.”

“You sound like you think you’ve been doing something wrong.”

“Well, maybe I have.” You protest. “What if I missed something that led to that the other day?”

“You did not miss anything.” He says firmly, closing the laptop – you’re not sure if he’s concluded his report or not. “Is that what happened to everyone - they were infected and then they mutated into those… those things?” You can’t bring yourself to say the identifier out loud.

“No, Dove, the… The bodies they recovered matched with the amount of people signed into the premises. Excluding you, obviously.”

“So, someone brought them there and set them on us?”

“Maybe. They’re still working on how they got in the building. They don’t exactly use doors, so…” He laughs, though it’s half-hearted.

The lump feels too big in your throat, tears burn at your eyes as you drop your head down but you know you’re not quick enough.   

Leon stands, soft footsteps on the carpet as he circles round the coffee table and sits down a cushion’s width away from you.

“Sorry – it was a bad joke.”

You shake your head, sniffling a little, eyes fixed on your thighs. “No, it’s not that, or you. It’s so stupid, but I wish I could go back and stop it…”

“I know.” He places a hand down on the sofa, swivels his knees in your direction. “But it doesn’t help to think like that – trust me. And I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to keep going.”

“And you’ve faced those things before.”

“More times than I’d like to count.”

“How do you stop them?” You look up then, wiping away the tears from your cheek with the heel of your left hand.

“You couldn’t have done anything differently back there, if that’s what you’re thinking. A couple of gunshots to the head or an explosion is the only thing that’ll stop them.”

“You can’t… you know, turn them back?”

He shakes his head, looking solemn. “Afraid not.”

“Maybe for the best. I don’t think I’d want to be turned back if I’d…” If you’d ripped off your colleague’s head.

“Hey, that is not going to happen to you.” He leans forward, places his hand on your knee - having you fall asleep in his arms earlier has removed all sort of boundaries, it seems. “I promise.”

You shake your head then. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can. I am going to keep you safe.” He pauses – wind it in a little, Kennedy. “And if it makes you feel better, you won’t be the first. Want my credentials? I rescued the President’s daughter from a cult, got her home safe.”

“The President’s daughter?” You hadn’t heard about that, but then again why would you? Probably wouldn’t want it announced to the world that the leader of the free world’s daughter had been abducted.

“Mm. She had a codename and all – Baby Eagle.”

“But you would know her name.”

“Yeah, but still used codenames on official comms.”

“So, what would happen if I told you my name?”

“Er, well, I’d…” There’s the arm raise, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I’d have to report in to HQ that your identity had been compromised, I’d be redeployed elsewhere and you’d get a new security detail.”

“Why?”

“Part of your protection is that I’m not a risk of revealing your identity if hostile forces used… certain methods of interrogation if we were to be captured.”

Your stomach twists at the code. “Torture?”

“I suppose.” He shrugs, like he’s going to collect your mail or water your plants when you’re on vacation as a favour.

“No, you can’t… How can you shrug at the prospect of being tortured for me? You don’t even know me.”

Leon wants to say he does know you, not completely but there’s things he’s picked up over the course of the day that he feels reasonably confident on. You don’t do good with sitting idle, has the feeling you keep yourself busy when you’re not locked in four walls. He got the feeling you’re thorough and proud of your work, or you were before this doubt crept in.

You like coffee with a splash of creamer, honey in your oatmeal. You don’t have any close friends or family nearby that will be wondering why you’ve gone AWOL just yet… ..and you’re definitely single, because if you had someone waiting at home you would’ve mentioned it they spoke about whisking you away to a safe house, or when Hunnigan said she was going to search your place.

He smiles. “I know you don’t deserve any of what’s happened to you over the last 24 hours, and that’s reason enough.”

“How can you be so sure I don’t?”

“Experience, Dove. Been in this line of work for a long time and, more importantly, I’ve been where you’ve been, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, relenting. “Sorry, my head’s just…”

He squeezes your knee. “I know.”

--

You leave the bathroom later that evening – Leon had ducked in at some point and prepared your toothbrush again – and find him leaned over the sink, scrubbing at a pan and a cloth draped over his shoulder. He’s left out the medicine – two painkillers, two sleeping pills - on the counter, next to a glass of water. It feels oddly domesticated again for what all of this is.

You walk over to the counter, slowly, as he continues washing the dishes.

“I forgot to ask earlier. Have there been any updates?”

He turns, gives you a sympathetic smile. “Not yet. But it’s only the first full day of the investigation, so I’m sure I’ll hear something soon, especially since I’ve sent the report over.”

He’d sent it whilst you were in the bathroom, half-expected Hunnigan to ring right there and then but his cell had remained silent, so he’d moved his attention to the dishes.

“Yeah, suppose other things will take precedence too.” Other things meaning families to inform… What would they tell them?

You take a swig of water before picking up the pills, swallowing them all down in one. Knowing how quick the sleeping aids helped yesterday, you’re aware there’s only a limited time before you’ll feel the effects kick in.

“Well, goodnight, Leon.”

“Wait a sec.” He pulls the cloth off his shoulders and hurriedly dries his hands as you watch on, curiously. He fiddles with the watch around his wrist, pressing a button on the side, then undoing the strap before he holds it out to you. “Here, so you can tell the time. I know there’s no clock in there, so…”

You stare at the offering, not raising your hand to take it. “But what about you?”

“Got my cell.” He pats his pocket, then holds the watch out again. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

You step forward to take it, gripping it a little too tightly in your fingers. It must be your imagination because it feels warm, but that can’t be right.

“Sleep well, Dove.”

Without another thought, you lean up on your tip-toes and press a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Thank you.”

You swivel on your heels and walk into the bedroom, closing the door without looking back, missing out on the sight of a flustered DSO agent in the kitchen.

If it wasn’t for the sleeping pills now coursing their way through your system, you would’ve been up for hours longer, heart pounding at what you just did. Instead, you climb into bed, close your eyes and it isn’t long at all until sleep washes over you, his watch still clasped in your hand.

--

Leon’s phone finally vibrates with Hunnigan’s caller ID as he enters back into the living area after finishing his perimeter check. Had to do two rounds of the building because he knew he was too distracted on the first by your kiss, admonishing himself for being so put out of joint by a simple gesture. After his second, more thorough check of the area and confident there was still no sign of any unwanted guests, he’d headed back into the building, making sure everything was locked up before he answered the call – placing the phone up to his ear on the opposite cheek that you had kissed.

“Hunnigan!” He answers, a little too jovial, would lower if his voice if he wasn’t confident you’ll be fast asleep by the amount of time that’s passed since you took your medication. “I was getting worried you’d forgotten all about me.”

“I’m sure.” Her voice is a little tense, but he can tell she’s tired. “Just finished your report.”

“And?”

“Well, it’s not exactly airtight.”

He rubs the bridge of his nose, holding in a sigh. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?”

“That’s why I’ve put Dove in a safehouse with you, rather than in a cell.”

“So, restrictions remain?”

“Restrictions remain.”

He rolls his eyes, grateful it’s not a video call. “Did you search her place?”

“Unfortunately not. The President wanted the surveillance department back up and running ASAP, so all available manpower had been diverted to that. The tech analyst, however, has confirmed that the breach on the database yesterday wasn’t what you’d call successful.”

Leon walks around the sofa, drops on it a little too heavy. “You don’t sound particularly thrilled by that.”

 “I’m not - the attempt itself was successful, but as soon as the system detected the forced entry, it wiped itself. Every subject that was still under surveillance has been lost.”

“Maybe that’s what they were trying to achieve.” He frowns. “Is there seriously no back-up server?”

“Analyst seemed to think it was their protocol, but it’s just a theory. Everyone who knew exactly how that division had their server set up is no longer with us.”

There’s a pause and he can hear Hunnigan tapping away at her keyboard as usual. “There is something I need to inform you of, though.”

“Right.”

“The tech analyst found the CCTV feeds have been tapped. They couldn’t trace where the feed was being diverted to, but it was definitely a system not within the DSO infrastructure. It’d been active since the attack, but they cut the connection when they discovered it.”

Leon frowns. “So, you’re saying that whoever orchestrated the attack could’ve been watching the cameras since.”

“Mm.”

“And if their objective was to leave no survivors…” Leon’s eyes focus on your bedroom door.

Hunnigan stops typing. “They’ll know they’ve failed.”

--

Part seven.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[louisoffline]

FINALLY FINISHED THE REF SHEET PLUS OTHER DRAWINGS YAAYYY okay so i had the ref sheet done basically two days ago BUT i wanted to draw some more because my ref sheets look so......just stand there kinda scary so MORE ART !!! also skip if you are seeing this when i say our mcs twin bro......we are so mind connected with the skeleton sweaters my lord when i logged on and saw that both step 2 designs had them..........my goodness..i think we might just be the same person....

I want to try and flesh out relationships and dynamics more i think thats something i kind of struggle with with ocs so..that is what the rest of this post will be backstory, character traits, etc etc if you chose to read i will love you forever

Step 1: Gosh...I love making characters really reeaaallllyyy awkward and that's exactly what Lenae is. Her awkwardness is really just stemming from anxiety or nervousness. Qiu and her's dynamic is so sweet to me I love characters being to nervous to say things and then another saysit for them omg im weak yeah thats so them. Lenae and Tam on the other hand....it's not like Lenae doesn't liker her she knows she means well and is extremely sweet but Lenae just can't understand why she is so loud and energetic all the time, she finds it hard to keep up. She IS the sweetest kid you would ever come across though, she will do anything to see you smile. Her earmuffs are a constant, everyone else may think it's just a comfort thing but it is in fact a noise thing we just don't know that yet guys(undiagnosed autism is craayyy)

Step 2: Still being that same shy, sweet kid while looking emo AND TRANSGENDER?? not for the weak. Still shy and reserved maybe even more so but no one really expects anything else. I think meek is a very good descriptor, they get freaked so so easily like has never had a peaceful day in their life. However, Halloween IS their favorite time of the year, it's an aesthetics thing i guess. If you pass by Lenae in the halls you would probably think that they were on their last few threads of patience by the sour look on their face but no, they could be having the best day of their life with that face on. They found it tiring to keep that placid smile on their face all the time when it wasn't always real. In this stage Lenae has definitely started expierimenting with different art mediums like dabbling in painting, poetry, music, you name it. Qiu and Lenae are still the bestest friends ever(bestest crushes ever???) and it's actually kind of nice to have someone by your side who knows what you're going through with your gender identity struggle and everything. Lenae for sure feels bad for how they treated Tam just because they thought she was a little much, I mean it was kind of hypocritical, so they've been trying to make it up to her by being kind of everyly nice?? oh boy oh boy

Step 3: I really don't know a lot of what I could write for step 3 since like nothing of it is out in the actual game SO were just gonna go like personality kind of wise y'know? I think they've definitely mellowed out AT LEAST A LITTLE...like omg guys they can sometimes order for themselves at restaurants!! They're very opinionated and has a strong stance on what they believe but like not in a mean way they just don't understand why others would think differently. Building on their creative abilities, they probably have plans to go to a college for art or fashion. Or maybe they'll start their own business who knows! It's okay to not have everything planned out anymore, some spontaneity is welcome in their life. Now that they've finally been able to be more open, mainly around friends, they'll say something a little too...unsettling or freaky??? to be normal, it's a little weird to get used to oopsies

AND THATS ALL if you read all of this i appreciate you becasue this has been drafted up on my computer screen for multiple days I just did not know what to say siigghhh yeah i love this kid and I hope you guys do too teehee

[olderthannetfic]

What makes the United Healthcare CEO assassination stand out among all of Tumblr's other crab rave parties is simply that it was an assassination, and a dramatic one at that, instead of heart failure or cancer or anything else that everyone ends up dying of at some point.

They're not just celebrating that some rando went the way of all men, they're celebrating an action that someone took. The hype is for the assassin himself, not for the fact that people die sometimes.

I'm opposed to murder and I've always found the crab rave parties ghoulish and uncomfortable, but this one isn't as disturbing to me as the others.

The others are people going "yay! someone we don't like died of age related illness after a lifetime of doing harm! we win!" but plenty of people I do like and who never did harm also die of age related illnesses, there's nothing in there but disregard for human life, it's not funny. But this one is "yay, someone took it upon themselves to do something about a problem". It's just not as ghoulish when it was an ideologically motivated action instead of the course of nature, which is kinda weird to me, I'd have expected myself to be just as unsettled by this as I have been by the other crab rave parties.

Will it work? Will it make insurance companies drastically change how they operate? Maybe a little in the short term, probably not in the long term. If it does work, will it have been worth it? That's a knotty ethics question. Should it be encouraged? Definitely not, just look at who else Tumblr thinks should be taken out by a vigilante.

But this one's got the makings of a folk hero.

--

[suzukiblu]

I just read the maws bonding ficlets from the start. It’s so cute. Just immediate child acceptance. Clark is going “so I’m a dad now” no questions asked.

no questions only dad.

“I like the name,” Superboy mumbles into his chest, just barely shy about it. Conner mumbles into his chest. Clark feels an overwhelming warmth in his own thrumming heart and smiles helplessly, then gives Lois the soft, besotted look he can’t hold back. They have a baby. It’s so great. Conner is so great. He and Lois have a baby and he's great!

Lois turns very red, for some reason, then straightens up and shoves her phone back in her pocket as she clears her throat. 

“Conner James Lane-Kent,” she decides firmly, putting her hands on her hips. “I’d say ‘Olsen’ for the middle name but ‘James’ we can sell as a coincidence easier when we’re figuring out how to explain . . . literally all of this. Any of this. This is going to be very difficult to explain, actually, given the fact you two are functionally identical. Hm. Yeah, the cover’s gonna require some work.” 

“We’ll figure something out,” Clark hums unconcernedly, nuzzling Conner’s hair. Conner bites him, then jumps up and wraps himself around him like a supernaturally strong koala. Clark rumbles happily–his kid likes him!–and Conner starts purring just as happily. Clark feels even warmer. 

“. . . also you two can never do that out of costume,” Lois says. “Like, ever.” 

“Hm?” Clark glances back at her, a little puzzled. “Why not?” 

“Clark,” Lois says, staring at him. “The sounds you two are making right now sound like if a mantis shrimp was trying to explain color theory. Those aren’t even sounds, I’m pretty sure, our senses just don’t know how else to translate them.” 

“I think my fillings are buzzing,” Jimmy agrees thoughtfully, poking at his own cheek. “Feels kinda weird.” 

“But Conner’s so cute when he purrs,” Clark says, trying not to pout at the idea of telling his kid he can’t purr whenever he wants to. Conner purrs louder and bites him again. It’s the most adorable thing that’s ever happened in the entire history of the universe. In the entire history of any universe. Like, all those alternate realities they saw only wish that anything that adorable had ever happened to them.

“That sounds like purring to you?!” Lois asks incredulously. 

“Yes,” Clark says, a little puzzled. “Why, what does it sound like to you?” 

“A rockslide causing a ten-car pile-up,” Lois says frankly. 

“And you sound like somebody made a pack of tigers fight a whale,” Jimmy says. 

“I don’t think tigers do packs,” Clark says, frowning consideringly and hooking Conner into a headlock as the other tries to claw his face off in the cutest possible fashion. “Do they?” 

“I don’t think so, but lions’ roars aren’t as bone-jarring and viscerally terrifying to hear up close as tigers’,” Jimmy says. “So I went with the scarier one.” 

“Pa’s not scary!” Conner protests indignantly, scowling at Jimmy, and Clark feels warm all over again and hugs him harder. Well–tightens the headlock, anyway. Same difference. He really was so worried about being a weapon, being something dangerous, being . . . 

He can’t imagine ever worrying about that again, when Metropolis turned its lights off for him and Lois and Jimmy both trust him even knowing what he’s become in other realities and Conner knew it was safe to come and find him. 

And when he’s looking at Conner, he can’t feel like any kind of a “weapon” at all. 

No. Not even a little bit. 

“Clark’s not scary, no, but the sound of a pack of tigers fighting a whale is,” Jimmy says. “The rockslide and ten-car pile-up is a little unsettling too, to be honest. Like, much less so, but it’s still on the radar there.” 

“No it’s not, it’s precious,” Clark says, then starts preening Conner’s ruffled curls into some semblance of order again. Well . . . a vague impression of it, anyway. Maybe. Kind of. 

A bit. 

. . . possibly that’s a fool’s errand, but whatever. He’s willing to put the effort in for his kid, fool’s errand or not.

[nightcolorz]

Its weird to me when people read armand's submission in the "face down in the coffin" scene as a trauma response but say its a manipulation when hes visibly triggered in the "are you asking or making me" scene. What are your thoughts on this kind of pick and choose? D:

Thank u for the ask! Interesting question <3

I think it comes down to how a lot of ppl r understanding of Armand’s character enough to pick up on when his trauma is informing his behavior, but are also just hesitant to interpret most of his actions in good faith bcus they feel the dread of his betrayal coming and can’t trust him to be sincere. Which makes sense lol, especially for new fans or for fans who aren’t rlly into Armand. (It could also be part not relating or identifying with the type of trauma Armand has, so not being able to as easily understand where his reactions r coming from)

But what these fans r missing is that every thing Armand does is a trauma response 😭 his manipulations and his lies are also reactions to his trauma!!! So even if he is being manipulative, he is also always acting from a place of fear. the “are you asking or making me” bit is so obviously a trauma reaction that it boggles my mind that ppl r interpreting it as manipulative. I made a whole post about this lol: https://www.tumblr.com/nightcolorz/754366178230730752/asking-you-because-i-havent-seen-anyone-else?source=share , but tldr, Armand asks Louis this when he’s pushing Armand’s literally one singular clear boundary he will never ever break and by pushing that boundary Armand is internalizing that Louis is communicating that his boundaries mean nothing in this relationship bcus Louis is “his master”. So by asking him if he has a choice or if hes being made, Armand is asking if their weird little bdsm thing is just for fun or if hes seriously taking away his agency. Which, Armand is not mad at Louis for taking away his agency lol. He is upset but not upset that his lover would use him like a slave, in fact he is comfortable with and used to this. What he is upset about is having a distressing dynamic that is unclear in where the rules and the authority lie. Armand is ok with being demeaned, he is not ok with being left lost and confused and unsettled in where his use lies. What he looks for in a relationship is security, which Louis is not giving him. And honestly I find it kinda upsetting when ppl interpret that as manipulative 💀bcus Armand is literally just asking for clarification and perhaps asserting a boundary for the first time in his relationship, which like, is a normal thing to do 😭.

Armand is manipulative and gaslighty, but he’s not emotionally manipulative lol. I don’t think he understands his own emotions and the severity of his own trauma well enough to use it to gain sympathy from ppl that will give him an advantage. He is very lost and desperate 90% of the time and he’s looking for someone to tell him what he should be doing 😭. That’s kinda his deal

thank u for the ask once again!!! <3

[nicoleanell]

(actual link to gif set because tumblr's being weird)

Man it's the fact this statement is weirdly big and generous and brave in Armand's mind. I think it was Assad or someone else who said it was a moment of overconfidence or almost gloating, which is not the exact vibe I get, but I think there's something to that big-headedness of having survived and gotten through it and it's over now and just... He just wants to see. He just wants to skip that little stone down the cliff and see what happens. Maybe if nothing happens *then* he would actually be able to exhale. (He will not. He'd find something else. There's an itch in him that's never going to be secure enough in the bed he made.) Maybe it's just wanting to test something - Louis or himself or how many ways he can't die.

People tie it directly to Armand not being able to say the words in 2x05, which is probably intentional, but also it's not *exactly* the same because for one thing it's in the Past Tense now. It's very much meant as a moment of *closure* - he DID love you, past tense, we don't know where he is or how he feels now and that doesn't matter - while in San Francisco with Lestat right there on the mind telephone, it was the present tense terror that maybe that really was all Louis needed to hear to go running back to him.

But their relationship has also changed SO dramatically since San Francisco that it feels like even the past-tense version is a very, very precarious thing to admit. Because it's not about the material love triangle, it's not who-will-Bella-Swan-choose, it's about 70 years of mythmaking and storytelling.

SIDEBAR: The show left us IMO with a very frustrating ambiguity about the extent to which Armand has used his mind powers on Louis, like to the point where you have some fans believing that *every single fucking memory* we saw onscreen that they didn't like for the last two seasons is Fake News actually, and other fans believing it happened Just That One Time GOD. (I personally lean toward way *less* mind manipulation than other people assume, and if it was literally JUST the shit that happened in 1973 that's... enough to be messed up lol. I think the "love of my life" and finishing each other's sentences scenes have some unsettling implications. I *don't* think Louis having imperfect recall and limited perspective of stuff that happened a century ago is because of Armand all or even *most* of the time.)

But the fact no matter what is that Louis has a lot of cognitive dissonance around Lestat because he WANTS it acknowledged on some bone-deep level that Lestat loved him, because he loved/continues to love him too. And if we're gonna insist on throwing the word "gaslighting" around when we just mean "lying", then at the end of the day it's about Louis being told he's not crazy by someone who has at times made him feel that way.

Idk maybe this is me getting Too Deep about a finale I still think is kinda unsatisfying and already had way too much to do with Lestat and not enough with Claudia. But I do like that moment when I look past the toxic love triangle and more toward "hey buddy [my best friend Armand] why are you Like That" and Louis' little smile breaking my heart.

Something sad about that moment is Armand's right that saying those words *doesn't* end the world, and if nothing else had happened and Daniel and the Vampire CIA weren't on their divorce-attorney kick, that'd be the end of it. (Hot take I don't think saying the words or not in 1973 would've really made a difference either, and there's so much more nuanced and wild shit going on there than an undelivered message romcom beat.) And Louis would be *grateful* for that moment of understanding and closure between them.

[msfcatlover]

I'm glad you like it! Both the design & the concept, because RH!Steph needs more love & attention.

I don't know if the purple cloak would work for my version of RH!Steph, but I'd definitely add more purple as her costume evolved and Death Mask became a little less of a performance and more of an established identity in the vigilante community.

From a purely Doyalist perspective, I can also see where a couple of redesigns basically have to happen. With the Outlaws, for example, she'd probably trade the shawl for a similarly designed scarf, because most superhero costumes are sleek & form-fitting, and she'd stand out like a sore thumb in the cloak I've given her rather than look like part of the team. Still wispy/ratty enough to evoke the cloak, but looks better in a lineup next to people like Kara. (Probably need to add some pauldrons for the armored sleeves to connect to.)

Post-reunion, you'd probably want to redesign her costume again to something a touch more casual, to show her increased comfort in Gotham now that she had the Batfam as potential backup again. Hmmm... probably recolor the skull to metallic copper, swap the shawl & armored sleeves for a dark purple leather jacket, make the belt copper, maybe swap the gauntlets for clawed leather gloves (like Selina sometimes has) with copper-capped knuckles, and definitely switch the boots to black knee-high lace-up motorcycle boots with purple laces. Looks more comfortable/casual, has more of Steph's own favorite color woven in to show Death Mask is more Steph than DM started out, has that subconscious nod to Damian in the boots (because Steph does still look up to her big brother, even if she'd deny it to hell & back.)

Death Mask Steph

Oh boy. This is the big one. I've agonized over this, and getting the design right has been... ugh. Nevermind. Here we go.

Death Mask needs to draw on Red Hood and Steph designs. (I would draw from Black Mask designs, but frankly Roman's designs are all kinda boring? He's a skull-head in a suit, and basically always has been; it's simple & effective, but there's not a lot to iterate on there.) Steph's suits tend to be armored one-pieces, but layering is so crucial to most Red Hood designs, that balancing the two has been... tricky.

(I've already shared the Stephanie Brown Costume History page. Unfortunately, the n52 designs page seems to be just descriptions with no pictures, and the page for her n52 appearances doesn't give you many good angles. So here's Steph's "Future's End" & "Future State" designs, as the stand-out missing designs, in my opinion.)

The absolute vital part of any Red Hood inspired design is, of course, the helmet. It's also been the biggest pain. Jason's had some good helmet designs and a lot of bad ones over the years, and (as I've previously stated) finding a full reference page for them is basically impossible. So here's what I'm going with.

Steph starts with a sleek, sculpted black metal base. Say something like this model of Jason's Injustice helmet. The primary difference would be that Steph's helmet opens up at the front rather than the back; the faceplate would be hinged at the top of the head, and it would swing up & forwards to reveal her face.

(Using the Injustice helmet as a base because it more than most looks like it really should open from the front. I'd also say the sides would also be able to open wider, so that it can still fit snug without being a pain to get in & out of. Not that anyone would ever bother to draw that detail, but I think it would look neat opening up in 3 directions all at once.)

Next, most of the face plate is covered by a sculpted skull. This is how she invokes the whole "Death Mask" idea, as well as purposefully stealing Roman's gimmick. Below the teeth are a couple understated tubs & valves, evoking a gasmask---something like this.

(Kinda a Red X look, I'm realizing now that I'm digging through my reference folders all at once... Anyway, this piece seems to be by Laura Sheridan, but her website seems to be down, you can only buy her art seemingly 2nd hand, and I can't find this picture listed anywhere but pinterest.)

The edges, mechanical bits, and any detail work added should be done in copper.

Within the eye sockets are two recessed glowing lenses, like Jason often has, though Steph's glow a dark magenta, casting light that borders on red.

(Obviously, these lenses change size & shape to show emotion through the mask, like you do. They're not designed to---in fact, logically all the bat-masks are designed like this in order to help hide the wearer's emotions---but that's comic logic for you.)

Below the helmet, Steph's suit is mainly made up of reinforced black leather motorcycle pants, a black undersuit, and an armored vest like this.

(But black. Obviously.)

However, she accessorizes. Steph has added a decorative metal ribcage to her armor, as well was plates mimicking a spine. The ribs should be copper-colored, while the spine can be either metallic or black.

(Depending on who's drawing them, the ribs could range from purely decorative to practically another layer of armor. And following the links from pinterest, both of those artists have apparently taken their rib-art down, which is once again very disappointing.)

Steph wears a chunky utility belt which sits crooked on her hips. I personally think it should be black (maybe brown?) with either copper, ivory, or dark magenta snaps/clasps holding the pouches shut (pick one for all pouches, not a mixture). She has a gun holstered on each hip, one on each thigh, a set of throwing knives (3-5) on the front of the belt, and wears her sickle-swords strapped criss-cross on her back.

The swords themselves are made from a copper-alloy, retaining their coppery color, and easily double her reach (are about as long as one arm.) They have a hilt not dissimilar to an Egyptian khopesh, but a completely different blade; Steph's swords have a much more exaggerated curve, and crucially, they're sharpened on the inside of the crescent, where a khopesh is sharpened on the outside. They legitimately look like a crescent moon sickle, stretched out to sword size.

(Khopesh hilt, and genuinely the best crescent sickle sword I can find for what I'm picturing. Steph's would be in much better shape, obviously.)

Steph keeps it understated-but-still-stated with knee-high, buckle-up, black leather motorcycle boots.

(These are mid-calf, but it's the closest I can find that aren't completely over the top. Also, any artist who figured out how to make the laces work without losing the straps would win my unending love for the symbolism of Steph clearly still mimicking her big brother but trying so hard to hide it.)

Steph’s sleeves are armored in black metal plates, ending in sharpened black gauntlets. I don't care much about the specific structure, I just really want that clawed look.

(Shorter would be more practical for finesse work, while longer claws could be worked into her fighting style. I am going back & forth on whether this should be both arms or just one of them, because I’m a sucker for asymmetric designs, but I think it might be a bit too much with all the other details.)

Finally, over top of it all, Steph wears an uneven ivory-colored hooded shawl made of layers of thin, wispy fabric. It hangs down her back to her waist, but bunches up in the front over her collarbones. It's purposefully designed to look tangled & messy, hiding her body shape with all its bulk & fly-aways, and is flimsy enough that grabbing hold of basically any part of it will just leave you with a fist full of torn fabric.

This is the hardest to find examples for, but... okay, so it's shaped roughly like this:

(If anyone can find the non-pinterest source for this one, I'd hugely appreciate it; all I'm getting is a dead twitter link.)

It's layered like these:

And it's made from material like this:

(This definitely gets swapped out for either a white scarf or a brown trench coat pretty regularly, just because those are easier to wrap your head around/draw. I think both could work & be cool, but Steph is trying to give off “undead vibes” with this original costume, and this gives her a more ghostly look which… okay, is heavily inspired by this Jason design.)

Also, Steph's hair is still long, but she ties it up in either a french or dutch braid before going out most of the time. Dutch is for going out in public or to the gym, where she'll lift it off her neck in a ponytail, french then gets coiled into a bun inside of her helmet.

(I am undecided on whether or not she also has an undercut.)

[wildestheart4ever]

@stealingyourbones @ashfly

In this AU, Danny is Jason’s paternal grandfather. [Does DP take place in like the 70s if I'm making Danny this old in the current time? Idk, but the idea of changing the era in which it takes place is always an interesting concept]

It takes place in an "Ultimate Enemy" AU, everyone dies and Danny is left a sad bitter drifter [Destroying all Fenton equipment and research, and avoiding Vlad like the plague, every encounter growing more hostile]. To add to the general angst, he’s also basically on a one-man mission to burn down the GIW.

He did not take the GIW into that much account, so Danny spends years being hunted and equally destroying GIW bases. Unbeknownst to him, the GIW had been keeping a very keen eye on the Fentons and their work [not to mention unearthing Vlad's brand of work], and thus Danny seethes at his failure

At some point, he tries to lead some semblance of a human life after sticking to the Ghost Zone and learning the ways of the ghosts for a while [He finally destroys the portals after learning to make portals on his own - if the destruction of Vlad's portal leads to Vlad sustaining a fatal injury, well whatever].

He meets someone, someone he feels he can trust with his secrets, and pursues a life with them. Cue marriage in the courthouse, cue bun in the oven. Cue nice shit for a while that has him thinking everything will be okay

Cue GIW being generally awful [Police investigating, worried neighbors, ransacked apartment, and a missing wife. Cold rage and unsettled officers, his eyes turn red for the first time.]

Dead wifey on a metal table, bun in the oven missing, and cue Danny’s faith in humanity taking a severe blow.

He loses his shit.

Growing older, growing bitter, and his moral compass turning all the more grayer [at some point wondering why he's been letting these people live]. He hunts GIW bases with a bloody vengeance and any stragglers that might've escaped? Well, he's got plenty of hounds and shadows to send on the hunt.

He turns anti-ish humans, bitter and angry.

Years continue to pass and the staggering numbers of agents loyal to the anti-ghost organization grow smaller, enough for Danny to pull back and leave only a few shades to keep a lookout. With that, he keeps mostly to the Infinite Realms, dead and resentful but taking great care of his people.

Why did he never find Willis or Jason? Well, I say it's because Gotham is a pretty strong city spirit, so her ecto signature kinda masks the ghostly residents living there.

Baby grows up to be Willis, but more on the weirder ghostly nonsense side. I like the idea of him being a good dad before things went to shit, teaching Jason about all the ways of the ghost [Not that either of them knew that. They’re not as ghostly as Danny, it’s just subtle things like cores communication and sneakiness]

Jason goes through his tragic events before his and B’s fateful meeting. Cue Jason being noticeably weird and ghostly in the Manor halls [his and Dick’s first meeting is Jason scaring the shit of Dick. One minute Dick is angry and looking to pick a bone with Bruce, the next, there's a child standing behind him staring at him - where'd he come from? Cause he sure as shit didn't hear anyone walk into the room.]

Danny is part of JL, only as a member that they call for hopeless scenarios. He is pretty unapproachable and JL is just relieved he’s willing to help at all.

He's a somber man by the time that first meeting comes around, bitter, unapproachable, and carries a distinct dislike for humans. The JL are only grateful that he's willing to give his help at all. Do they know about his quiet war with the GIW? No, Phantom keeps measures in keeping it all hush hush, he doesn't let agents get the chance to report incidents or call for outside help, in fact, he makes it all look like an accident when he's feeling particularly vicious.

Jason meets Phantom in an apocalyptic mission he wasn’t supposed to be in. Shrinks under the man’s intense gaze and quietly thinks Dick’s opinion of the man is spot on, he’s an overwhelming force and it feels like he’s being stared down by a predator.

He thinks the old man looks kinda sad.

But strangely enough, he also feels familiar.

[I like to think that there’s such a thing as familial cores, that can communicate impressions and feelings, that resonate deeper than a core would with a stranger. Like beacons.] Their cores are the source of purring. Jason's embarrassed to say the thrum [The one he's known and taken comfort in all his life] within him sounds almost like a kitten's purr, questioning, and yearning. The man's? It sounds almost like Willis' used to: Like a crocodile, deep and guttural, a sound so chilling yet feels warm and tentative. Hopeful and just as strangely yearning as his.

I also just get the image of Bambi meeting his dad for the first time lol

Batman swoops in like an over protective parent. Phantom is demanding where did he find Jason, he’s agitated and asking all sorts of questions B doesn’t have all the answers to.

Batman asks for the reason for Phantom’s desperate interest in Jason.

“Our cores share resonance, a factor only found in familial relationships”

Now B knows about Jason’s oddities, has a year getting used to them - but it’s never occurred to him the source or read for them.

The age difference hides a lot, but B can see a lot of the family resemblance. It’s in their bro, the shape of their jaw, the shape of their eyes

The burning green Jason’s eyes turn to when overwhelmed.

Cue Danny finding maybe not the child he thought he lost, but a grandchild and he makes it abundantly clear he wants some involvement in the boy’s life.

And a health check. Gotham may have been able to sustain Jason but she is still a cursed city, god knows how that affected the ghostling’s health.

[If Batman tries to search up every possible thing about the Ghost Kings from his human life, well, it's not like Gotham will tell - heck, she probably helps nudge him along. Gotta make sure Jaylad's last living(???) biological relative would be a good thing in his life]

Jason’s life proceeds as normal, even as he tries to forget the fact he has a grandfather who’s the king of another dimension and that there are now shadows dogging his steps. That's not mentioning the trips he gets to make to the Infinite Realms.

If he grows impish and generally more creepy? Batman nor Batgirl mention it. A far cry from the mischievous demeanor Dick built Robin on. They don't mention how his giggle now feels chilling or foreboding, or how their adrenaline pumps when he exercises his invisibility, Batman refuses the thought of it feeling like a predator stalking prey - he's sure the goons already think that enough as is.

Then you know what happens: Joker has been keeping a keen eye on Batman and his lot, he knows about Batman’s little birdy’s weirdness and……well, he is eager to play with the new toys he got from that decrepit little organization he found.

Cue the tragedy, cue an angry grieving Bat and an even angrier king.

Phantom is there at the funeral, disguised as a human [He doesn't have a human form, not anymore.]. Making it clear to Bruce he blames him just as much for this tragedy.]

Phantom spent weeks searching in the deepest corners of the Infinite Realms hoping to find the forming remains of his grandson. Phantom is only left with the knowledge that the boy passed over to the beyond.

Anything left of his patience for humans snaps like a frayed thread.

The king is furious, demanding why the boy felt the need to find family elsewhere, demanding why he was left alone

He wants blood

[I suppose he turns into a different flavor of Dan, he’s not targeting just everyone, he’s just targeting those involved down from the Joker to what remains of everyone involved with that damned organization]

He basically declared war on them.

Superman in a typical fashion when faced with Batman’s first attempt on the Joker’s life, tries to reason with the ghost.

Phantom isn’t having it.

“I’m going to make this very clear to you, Kal El. The prince of the Infinite Realms, my beloved grandson, the last of my family, has been murdered by a retched human, using weapons designed against my kind. If you think I’m going to sit idle or let you and anyone else get in my way? Don’t expect mercy from me and mine.

Try to get in my way Kryptonian, I dare you.”

Ghouls and shades swarm everywhere, particularly in Gotham [She is facing the punishment of being unable to protect her bird, even if he’s left her reach], the ghost in the cursed city become visible to the human eye as they help search for the Joker.

He’s found, by the king’s knight. Dragged kicking and giggling as he’s thrown at the king’s feet.

The king grabs the retched clown’s head with a large clawed hand and stares the Joker in the eye as he slowly freezes his insides

While many silently rejoice over the monster finally meeting his end, they cannot stand to look as bloody icicles stab through the man from within.

The beheading seems pointless, but watching this man rip off the Joker’s head, they get the feeling the Ghost King could not help the display of violence

He was stating a point.

Danny loses all faith in humanity and makes it known. He's pissed.

Basically, Batman had one job and he blew it, so there goes whatever relationship the JL had with Phantom.

JL is now missing one of their heavy hitters.

Tim watches Batman spiral and Gotham grow more obviously haunted.

It's like a war zone

Jason returns from the dead and Danny instantly knows about it [he had shades guarding his grave, he knows]. Cue him following his catatonic grandbaby and basically becoming a helicopter parent - Ras is kept in line at the threat of his corrupted bath water being taken from him, and Danny vaguely threatens Talia as he discerns her intentions towards Jason.

The Prince returns to Gotham and the shades are supporting his violent hobbies.

Jason's a little thrown off to find that the Joker had been publicly murdered execution-style.

He goes back to his apartment to think and finds Grandpa waiting for him. He's a little shocked and ill at ease at the massive grudge the old man holds for Batman.

Phantom offers Lady Gotham an apology, citing her inability to interfere. But Batman is a different matter.

That’s all I got for now. Lol, this got very long and I wasn’t expecting to be hit with the inspiration, might think of more soon.

I’ll add what I imagine old King Danny looks like in a minute. Is it necessary? No, but I have to share it with you.

How Danny looks:

I know everyone is a fan of twink!Danny but I'm leaning more on Jack's side of the gene pool in this case. The dude is huge, broad, and towers over everyone by several inches [Jason's epic growth spurt makes more sense when you look at his family lineage lol]. You know that thing Walker does where he's normal heights one moment, and looming sky high the other? Yeah, Danny can do that.

His getup? From what comes up at the top of my head: Something between Dan’s suit and lightweight gothic-style armor, spikes, and beady eyed skulls galore. He doesn’t wear gloves so you can see he charred black claws and he doesn't wear a chest plate, so it reveals the tattered remains of the insignia Sam made for him [I’m honestly thinking of Infinity War!Steve, with how roughened up he looks].

He's like Alfred's age, maybe older. He always has a severe frown on his face. Generally looks like he's one step away from losing his patience

Corpse pale skin, almost bluish

Wispy hair. Some say it looks like it's moving like it's underwater, others think it's wispy and foggy lookin' like dry ice. Along with the crown, it looks like his hair is flaming, which he tries not to think about.

Three eye colors: The general acid green - default, pale ice blue - when using his powers, red - when he's really pissed off. There used to be a fourth, the soft sky blues of when he was human. Jason had his eyes, Danny's sad those were gone too.

He has fangys, he will use them. In fact, he can stretch his jaws wide open horror style to reveal rows of sharp teeth.

Claws, he'll use those too. Long black claws up to his second knuckles, cold blue up to the center of his palms.

[deblklesb]

[Angel of the small death — Sevika × Reader OneShot]

[ballet dancer reader, bodyguard Sevika, smut (MDNI)]

Summary: Being Silco's daughter it's not some simple thing, especially thinking about the necessity of being guarded at all times. When a conflict starts, Sevika, his best employee, becomes your main bodyguard. It turns out things escalate a little bit until you bout break the tension.

a/n: boy oh boy this is BIG and it took me more time than i expected. this was an anonymous request so i can't tag the person who did it, but i enjoyed writing this, thanks sm! I'm so sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy it, anon! 💗✨

cw: some violence (a loose member), blood, smut (cunnilingus, masturbation, fingering)

not proof read | 5.2k words

[reblogs are highly appreciated!]

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Living is such a weird concept; that's all you can think about as you look through the songs on your playlists, laying on the bed. Nothing seemed to draw your attention, the assignment of your last class in mind created an urge to find the answers to your inspiration. It was a good thing, exactly what you needed now, and you couldn't let it slip through your fingers. 

The plan was to show your teacher how capable you really were. Composition wasn't an easy thing, and even though you loved that subject the song was a major part to determine your next steps on that project. So you were searching restlessly, seeking for that high only an insight could provide, as fast as you could. 

You had to interrupt your plans, though, when the screen of your phone showed an incoming call. 

"Hi, dad", the other side of the line was weirdly messy, he usually tried to get a quiet place before calling you. 

"You need to go to my office. I see you there in ten minutes"

"Is everything okay?" You sat on the bed. His tone wasn't usual either. 

"I'll explain later. Now go." 

When Silco tells you to go, you go. 

The fact was that you didn't like your dad's work. All the illegal shit surrounded the places since you could remember, even if he tried hard to cover it in front of a kid. The whispers and smiles, usually opportunistics but also nervous, the feeling of being treated like a rare piece, the fear exhaling from people who knew what was happening but couldn't tell. You saw how everyone feared the slender, incisive man. 

For quite some time you thought you should fear him too. But, for better or worse, he was a different person when he was with you. And as you grew old, he started to explain the situations and dynamics to you, teach you things, show what you could have. In your late twenty's now, you could use a gun and threaten people using an infinite amount of goons, but you definitely rather not. 

Another thing he did was give you whatever you wanted. And some would say that wasn't a good thing, but it wasn't all that bad either. I mean, come on; he would let you go to the water park and in exchange you wouldn't miss behave, it was actually a very fair agreement. So he let you play with puppies when you were young, go out with your friends when you were a teenager and, most importantly, he'd encourage you to be a professional ballet dancer. 

Thinking about his honesty and open conversations, you entered the crowded building right before David, your bodyguard, ignoring the loud music, usual from a never ending night at The Last Drop. Since that was a common scenario for you, stopping to look around and enjoy the mood wasn't necessary. Your father's tone on that call was enough to make you walk upstairs, directly towards his office at the end of the hallway. 

Aside from what you feared, the scene in front of you was actually kinda unsettling. For sure he was a man that started to tell you stuff while you grew up, but a bloody finger on top of the table was new - it wasn’t attached to a body. Red stains on the wood were shining under the lights, contrasting too much with the green bathing the room due to the big glass window behind his desk. The finger had a cross tattooed on it and a golden ring, both now looking uncanny under the crimson that drew too much attention from you. 

“You didn’t have a tattooed finger before”, was all you could say, almost out of breath. 

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?” 

Your eyes wandered around; there was the only unfamiliar thing, and still was capable of making you feel uncomfortable. It was a surprise for yourself, the girl who beat a school colleague at seven years old because she called you a bitch. Silco tried very hard not to congratulate you too much that day, speaking politely with the principal but also making a point of not allowing that other girl to get an apology from you; she was cursing you, not the other way around - and it wasn’t just because some childish argument, the fact that you were from Zaun made you a target of mean looks and disdain all around Piltover while growing up. That girl had it coming (a broken nose) and you got a popsicle. So, yeah, blood wasn’t that out of your reality, but for some reason that detached finger made you change the weight from one leg to the other, breathing deeply. 

“What happened?”

“Some idiot had the idea of snitching, we lost a guy who was in Rebecca's factory.” The well dressed man pointed to the bloody, sole body part. “This was her way of telling she found out about our plans”

“Point made, I guess”

“I just called you here so we could arrange things with David.” You frowned, looking over your shoulder to the serious, suited man behind. “I’m assigning someone else to guard you from now on. At least until this troublesome, unnecessary hostility ends”

“You’re trying to invade each other’s business, I’m pretty sure it’s not that unnecessary, dad”, the amount of discomfort was making you uneasy. That conflict was growing too much, a finger wouldn’t be the most alarming body part to appear around. 

As much as your dad had had numerous conflicts around, the tension between Glasc Company and your father’s business took a turn when Rebecca decided to sell drugs herself. Losing territory, the one he fought too hard to get, was very unpleasant.

So, with quick heartbeats and perspiring palms, you watched as your father gave David some papers and instructions. The tall guy nodded, turning and offering you a smile - probably for the second or third time, which made it look very off-putting for him. 

“It was very nice working for you. I never said a thing because it wasn’t part of the work”, it was more words than you’ve ever heard from him. His voice was different that you thought based on the monosyllabic answers he always gave. “but your book recommendations and songs were good. Thanks”

“Well, that’s more than I expected, I genuinely thought you hated me.” You chuckled. “It was nice having you around, David”

Then he left the room and you were left with your dad and that stupid finger, Silco seated on his couch and grabbed a cigar. “Aren’t you going to grab that finger? I thought it was rude to show it around for nothing”, you seated next to him. 

Even though your father wasn’t hurt, the aspect of where that war could lead to made you think about very violent and scary endings. He was a good criminal, but still a man, a mortal one.

“I need someone else to see it” He crossed his legs as you got closer, laying the head on his shoulder before he pulled you closer on a sided embrace. “She’ll come soon. Until then, tell me how your classes are.” 

He always did that, since you were a kid. Being on a college level didn’t make that much of a difference in his eyes, at least about that topic. He would listen to you talk about muscle pains and lame history classes, instrumental music, group dynamics and upcoming events. It was simple and chill, but it was his way of connecting with you in an area he didn’t know a lot about, aside from your yearly spectacles. 

“This new assignment seems tiring, darling” He observed. “But, like they say, break a leg. You will be just fine” 

Before you could make a joke about his use of theatrical sayings, the door swung open to reveal a tall, cloaked woman with short dark hair. The look on her face revealed dissatisfaction when she traveled it from the detached, bloody finger to you; the same you knew very well from everytime you both crossed paths. The same one you couldn’t forget for two days after receiving it. 

She just stood there, silent, hands on the side of her built body, looking directly at you as if she was waiting for something - or someone. You could involuntarily lose yourself under the grayish orbs, as much as you hated this fact, but an insight struck you. 

You backed off your father, turning to stare at him, not getting a single word in response. That must be a joke. 

“You can’t be serious”, the tone in your voice was almost desperate. He couldn’t be doing this, right? 

 “That finger points otherwise”

・・・・・・・・・・

Telling David you thought he hated you was a silly comment to cool the mood. Saying that Sevika probably hated you was an understatement. 

The first time you met she had just been hired and you both made a scene when she didn't believe you about being Silco's daughter. When your father introduced you officially, she just looked annoyed and bit back some unpleasant comment, knowing very well that it could cost her work. 

Since then, you haven't spoken peacefully with each other. She always had a snarky comment about your classes and the way you behaved - which, to be fair, she wasn't kinda wrong; every year you realized how stupid you could've been the year before, maturity didn't come out of nowhere. Sevika herself got more mature too. She was probably five years older than you and with much more life experience, but she wasn't the holder of all knowledge and could be very judgemental too. 

Putting you together wasn't a choice your father made for nothing. Sevika was his best employee. She fought better than anyone and would prioritize your safety at all costs, since it was her job now. That meant that if you wanted to go somewhere, Sevika had a saying on if you could go or not. If you wanted to visit a new place, it had to be checked before. If you wanted to stay up all night practicing in a studio you rented - because your apartment wasn't that big in order to not draw too much attention -, she had to be there and also get more people to guard the building. 

And that's exactly what was happening right now. 

A month since the finger incident, with Sevika being your bodyguard. She didn't look pleased. And you could say you weren't either… But that would be a massive lie. 

Because you liked her looks in your direction when you were getting out of classes, and you liked the way she rolled her eyes at your bad jokes, the ones you did solely to annoy her - you were very mature but you also loved to annoy her. You liked to stand next to her on coffee shop lines, instead of being in front of her, and you liked to dress better just so she could give you a look from head to toes whenever you got out of your apartment in the mornings. 

Honestly, who could judge you? 

You didn't realize those things until a week later after this whole shit started, when you tried to get off one night and accidentally imagine her. It was a very embarrassing moment and you forced yourself to sleep as soon as you got back from that high, but the image didn't fade away. The image of her towering you and kissing you, pressing her body against yours in the most desperate way. You got off imagining kisses and intimacy with Sevika. Not necessarily pornographic scenarios, no; just the thought of her lips on yours and how she would react when feeling you on her fingers, her face and the words she could say, the heavy breaths. That turned you on. The feeling of being so close you could feel the heat and your heart beat faster. 

You don't know what is the worst part: coming when imagining Sevika, or the fact that what got into your mind wasn't even that explicit. It was so simple, it made you pissed off about how she could affect you with so little. 

But it was just a fantasy, a distant and unrealistic one. She didn't like you. Right? 

Right. 

That ideas were fucking you up bit by bit. At this point it was difficult to practice, head far gone, not in the slightest focusing on that amazing song you got to choose - La Danse Macabre was one of your favorite pieces and fit the theme well in your vision. So you needed to compose a four  minute choreography and you have been practicing it for four weeks straight. You'd go from classes to the studio every day, staying up until late. Your feet hurt, your body was most definitely not that used to the extra effort, but it would be worth it. Not to brag, but it was kinda dope. 

So there you were, looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to convey all the feelings you needed to: the sensuality of death, calling the viewer in the most subtle and dangerous way at first, but ending up being beautiful. 

Your body gesture had to be on point with the postures and the weight of the moviments, it wasn't easy the fact that you would present it alone. 

At some point, you didn't know when, you noticed Sevika on the corner next to the door. She was just there, quiet, looking at you. 

Her presence threw you off. You slipped a little, losing timing and concentration. "Fuck", you hissed. 

The song stopped when you reached your phone to pause it. Looking at the time, it had been three hours since you arrived. Your legs were sore and, honestly, the concentration was so little that just the image of that woman was enough to make you lose it. Tiredness and frustration got into you, making you sigh and turn to her. She didn't move an inch. 

"What are you looking at?" That sounded more harsh than you wished.

"I thought you were a dancer. They usually are looked at, anyways", she didn't seem to diminish anything there, or to bother by your tone. That fucking look she had, the one that told you how you wouldn't get anything from her; it was nerve-wracking. 

You thought you saw her eyes wandering through your body, but it probably was just some illusion. 

"Yeah, I guess so", you shrugged, trying not to notice her posture or to imagine her torso under that cloak. And shirt. Numerous thoughts came back; no, illusions. Fantasies. Sevika holding you and her breath against your skin, would the feeling of her torso under your palms be so pleasant? Would her lips be so good on yours? Would the warmth give you butterflies? "Do you like what you see?" 

The fact that you said "see" and not "saw" didn't click immediately; you weren't talking about the dance. 

Sevika gulped. She gulped while analyzing your body on that collant and pantyhose, thinking about how your would skin feel under her touch. How she wanted to hear you calling her name and gasping, while she tried to make you feel so good like you never felt. 

The looks weren't just your imagination. The way she noticed you dressing a little bit differently, that was real. And she'd spent the day trying to focus on her work and not laughing at your horrible jokes, or not feeling too good about you succeeding in your classes and beating all those snobs' pilties. She wanted to congratulate you about the choreography and say how she would follow you without question if you were death, because dying under your hypnotizing moves would be a blessing. 

She wanted to say how you could do whatever you wanted to her. 

So that question was so timely. The smirk on her full dark lips made you shiver, a feeling pooling on your stomach, anticipation. Gods help you, the need to kiss her was so fucking overwhelming now. 

"I do, actually", Sevika said. "I like it very much. It's a gorgeous view"

It could be all. That moment could end and you'd never mention it again, leave it like water under the bridge. But, oh, you wanted to drown. You wanted to drink that water, savor it, until that thirst ended. 

So you gave a step. And seeing her chest moving with a breath, you gave another. You walked towards her carefully, like she could escape any minute, and when you were finally close enough that pressure seemed to crush your chest, taking the air from your lungs. 

In your life it wasn't that many times you'd sweat before kissing someone. And yet there you were, palms perspiring because Sevika wasn't moving.

"Show me how you like it, then", you said. "I'm a physical, practical learner, by the way" 

She chuckled lightly, looking away and then to you again. That could literally cost her life or yours. 

You could be the angel of her small death, and Sevika would die happily. 

Throwing all the reasoning away, she finally touched you. She pulled you close and erased the space between your lips, poisoning herself in your taste and your tongue. Your mind flooded with stimuli: her lips and tongue, her shoulders under your hands, the weight of her touch on your hips, the imaginary scenes your mind created to make you ask yourself about what you both could do. 

The small moan that escaped between the kiss made her hold you tighter, dominating that moment with her need. Her hair felt soft, intertwined with your fingers, and the muscles pressing yours made your head spin. It must be a gift from the goddesses. 

It didn't matter the other guards outside of the room or the building, right now it was just you both. 

"Show me how you like it", you whispered, untying her cloak to reveal her strong torso and shoulders covered by the dark shirt. "How you'd like to take me"

She groaned, kissing you again and pulling you by the thighs, forcing you to wrap the legs around her as she walked to sit on a simple couch there. 

The feeling of her body under your touch was capable of numbing your thoughts, skin warm and scarred. Her kiss was so fucking intoxicating, consuming you from inside out while she grabbed your flesh. 

When her lips traveled through your chin and jaw, going to your neck, you sighed and moved the hips on her lap. Your fingers got the elastic off her hair, letting the strands fall loose around her face as you pulled back to look at the woman. The dark grayish eyes and the full lips, beautiful nose, that jawline, some scars around; Sevika was so pretty it took your breath away. 

"I don't think you want to spend all the time looking at me, princess", she murmured and her voice made all your body respond. The smirk added to her movements to lose your hair from the high bun; fuck, you were out of words. "What? Did the cat get your tongue?" 

"I'll look at you a lot later", you finally said, fingers caressing her features as she analyzed you closely. "Now I really need you to handle me around" 

Sevika's smug was something so intimate to you, something that, you swear, could make you go insane. 

She pulled the straps of your leotard, eyes still glued to your reactions as the cool air reached your nipples, making you sigh. Without wasting any more time, Sevika held you by the waist with the prosthetic hand and used the other to play with one breast. A warm tongue tasted the other one, and she was so careful to let you feel every inch of that contact. You felt that throbbing between your legs more intensely the more she twisted the muscle, savoring, tasting. Her thumb and index finger played with the free nipple, shivers across your body making you breathe heavily with the sensations. 

Your hands worked on feeling every muscle you could, hips moving because the sensations spreading from between your legs through your body were getting more and more prominent. Her tongue was soft, but your attention got divided by the cool prosthetic hand pulling the leotard. You didn’t want to separate from her, but you had too. 

Sevika kept looking at your body as you pulled away, getting up between her strong legs. And she analyzed as you started to take off the clothes and the pointe shoes. Being under her sight like that was something else, you could feel your heart beating across your whole body, getting heated and desperate. Her demeanor, the laid back posture, spread legs and trenchant look got you wanting to get on your knees. And that’s what you did. 

Throwing the fabric pieces away, you started to unbelt her pants and pull the zip down while squatting and kneeling. She’d stare at you, at your easy hands and light touches going especially fast to open the clothing. The contrast between this and the way you looked at her could make her go impatient, but she held back the instinct to do everything on her time when seeing the hunger growing in you. 

“I thought you wanted me to handle you”, she smirked while raising the hips to take away the pants, after doing the same with her shoes. You helped, caressing the muscular thighs with admiration in your mind. Fuck, she was so beautiful. 

“And I hope you do”, you kissed the right thigh, trailing up slowly until you reached her crotch. Under the shirt you saw her abdomen contracting in response and the chest expanding with her heavy breaths. “Never rode someone’s face?” You smirked, right hand touching the side of her body, up and down. 

As you imagined, she then proceeded to lean in your direction while a hand grabbed you by the, now, loose hair. It wasn’t hard, but enough to make you throb and, for sure, get more wet. When she noticed your reaction was positive something shifted. Her pupils blown, and you could notice the mood changing by the glit in her eyes. 

She got so close the tip of your noses bumped, silence crushing you while she made sure you wouldn’t falt back. And then, you could swear, Sevika got a bigger hunger in her. “Finish taking this shit off”, she said. 

You needed a second as she laid back again. She arched an eyebrow as a cue for you to pull the boxers off, and as much as you tried you didn’t paid a single fuck to where that piece of fabric went. Not when Sevika drew you closer with a single ministration through your head, pulling you to her core as your heart beat faster.

She was wet and, fuck, she looked so appealing. Your mouth watered as you rested the hands on her bare thighs. 

“Tongue out”, you obeyed. 

Sevika finally pulled one last time and a satisfied, low sound got out of you, as you finally tasted her. And, oh, she was delicious.

Her hips started to move, the vision from that angle would never fade from your mind. She was enjoying this, dragging her core on your tongue, holding you there so you couldn’t leave, using you to her pleasure. And your mind was getting too crowded with that much information in the best way. Your pussy clenched when she moaned low, nipples somehow getting even harder to the point of hurting. Her taste was being scattered around your mouth and you wanted to be there for your whole life. 

“Flat your tongue”, and you did, with a rush that made her smirk. Her abs would flex with her movements, so as her thighs. 

Having Sevika riding your face was something so heavenly, so divine. You almost envied those girls in the brothel, who could get to do it so much, but then you'd remember that this woman was so worked up already because of you.  

Her bud against your palate, the juices going on your lips and chin, the expressions due to the pleasure that came to bestow her, the loose hair falling on her face and the muscles contracting. The little wet sounds of your tongue against her core made the situation more erotic, and at some point you started to move the muscle that was in contact there. It drew a moan from Sevika, who was using the left arm to sustain her weight while she rubbed herself on you, seeking pleasure. 

The more the seconds went by, the more Sevika loosened herself. She started to fault in her moves, twitching and spasming as her dark gray eyes ate the sight of you so eagerly tasting her. A small moan escaped, followed by a growl and her legs spreading more. 

Your hands flew to her breasts under the shirt, palming the warm flesh, searching for her nipples as you hummed against her core. The vibrations pleased her. 

The way you started to flick your tongue heavily got the tall woman groaning and pressing your head harder against herself. You saw the frown and the way her eyes rolled before closing, her body tensing, the shaky and sharp breaths as you felt her getting excessively wet. 

"Fuck–!" She gasped, a smirk on her full, attractive lips. "So good, princess", her words were as smooth as the caresses the woman made on your hair, still spasming everytime your tongue drew on her swollen bud. 

The flavor was divine; you thought as you palate went on her entrance. The fact that you could taste her forever made you hotter, eager, needier. 

Sevika leaned and pulled you again, making you sulk a little at the distance from that heavenly position. But then she got you back on her lap, against her chest, legs open. 

Even though no one else was there, you felt exposed. As if your secret were being revealed and, suddenly, the whole world could watch as your most recent forbidden fantasies played out. 

The way she held you there, prosthetic hand under a knee as the other one traveled around your naked body, creating heat paths on your skin. Her lips distribute kisses along your neck and shoulder, taking sighs from you. And underneath all of it was an overwhelming heartbeat that got you panting at the sensation of her touch going south. 

"Shit, you're dripping", she whispered, getting your attention. You turned to look at her, lips parted brushing on hers as her fingers went from your entrance to your already sensitive clit. "Got so worked up just from me riding your face?" 

"Yes…" 

Her digits, soaked, rubbed smoothly on your bud. You rested a hand on her hair, the other playing with your nipples as she tortuously stimulated your core. 

"So good… Do you get that wet when you touch yourself thinking about me?" 

You froze, eyes wandering around her face just to capture that smug. Despite that, Sevika didn't stop. She kept working on you, massaging your whole cunt, getting her own palm full of your moistures as you felt yourself throb. "I heard you one night. You didn't even notice you called my name, uh?"

Shit.

You actually did. With her on the other side of the door, you kinda expected that you had said it lower than it actually was, and that she hadn't listened to it that night. But it seems like life wouldn't let it pass.

"So now" Sevika kissed you, pecking on your lips as her fingers concentrated on your sensitive bud. "Let me hear you. Loud and clear" 

Her ministrations were making you move your hips. Everything started to be too much, her breath against your skin, the cold of the prosthetic hand and the air. You wanted to give in entirely, wishing you were at home so she could rail you on your bed. She increased the speed, having your moans growing bit by bit. 

It felt good. Too good. You kept messing with your own breasts, eyes rolling with your hips and her hand, feeling that high approaching. 

"Getting all loosen up and relax for me, I might as well fuck you again tonight, princess", she hissed, taking a small smile for you as two of her fingers pressed and got inside of you. 

You moaned more languidly as she moved with ease, in and out smoothly due to how wet you were. And it didn't take long until you felt that pull in your stomach, clenching around her digits and gasping, whining, a hand full of her hair as you moved without control. 

The climax made you arch your back, her fingers came back to circle on your clit again as you trembled and murmured some incomprehensible words. Throbbing and spasming; that woman made you so full of desire it was ridiculous. 

"Gorgeous", Sevika whispered, kissing your neck as you came down from your high, breathing deeply and feeling your body floating on her lap. 

"That was some stupid shit", you chuckled, panting. 

Her hands closed your legs and helped you turn a little so you could rest on her prosthetic arm and look better at her. Some sweat drops were on her forehead and the side of her neck, the dark skin glowing a bit. 

"I learned a lot today, thanks", the woman laughed, accepting your touch on her face. "It was very delightful" 

"I'm glad I could provide you some knowledge", her right hand rested on your thighs, thumb caressing your skin. "I hope on the future you can teach me how to make your fantasies come true"

At that, your core sent a shiver through your body, heat rising slightly. "Maybe someday I'll tell you"

Sevika nodded as you rested the head on her shoulder. She felt warm. Was it wrong to want her on your bed? 

"I'll look forward to it" 

・・・・・・・・・・

Your body was full of energy right now, the feeling of being on top of the world consuming you from inside out. It was almost possible to feel every molecule vibrating, twisting your guts. 

"Call another guard", you murmured to Sevika discreetly while passing by her. 

She followed you outside the building of Art classes, looking around as usual. The car was waiting, following the time established by orders. 

The whole way to your apartment was silent. Your class came back to memory, the sensation of finally presenting the piece you've been planning for weeks now. The music took you away and, during those notes that reverberated on your flesh, no one was there. Just you and the music, working together. And it didn't feel real when your teacher congratulated you with a smile on her fine lips; she wasn't the type of teacher to smile that much. That meant a lot. It was huge actually. 

But before telling anyone, you wanted to let all this energy flow to something else. To somebody else. 

So you waited until a knock on your bedroom door, and you saw her getting inside carefully, confusion on her face as you asked her to sit by a corner. 

Resting on your bed, heartbeat increasing, you moistened your lips. "Do you wanna know what else I fantasized about?"

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[dividers by @froopis]

[squarebracketsmileyface]

I know this wasn't the main part of your last ask. However. I so feel having a bajillion aus for one technical au. I personally call it either tree or branch method.

Cuz it starts out as one and then splits, and then again and again and again. And yeah if you draw it out it eventually kinda looks like a tree or a system of branches.

Like I have one au that has 11 different sections from branching off. Technically 4 different endings but how they get there changes the au greatly.

(just ask my partner I literally cannot stop making a "wait but what if this was different" au's for one singular au.) (so so many /gen)

I could've probably sent this as a message but oh well. Enjoy! Also I love birdie with my whole heart and soul!

Tree/branch method makes so much sense as a name, that's brilliant. Doesn't make it easier to keep track of them all tho lmao, there's so many 💀 I love all of them tho. Like, I can never throw an idea away.

Also the fact that so many people love Birdie is the best fucking thing to me. Like fuck yeah people love my weird little freak of a child oc who knows far too much about insects and unsettles everyone by staring at them too hard while reciting a million bugs facts to them. I love her lmao.

Idk if I've mentioned this anywhere outside of like, DMs with people, but Birdies love for insects means she ends up having a pet tarantula when she's a teenager, I think we named him Stripe? (I think? I think I talked about it with pianofirepirate but I can't find it cos it was a while ago), anyway, Birdie just, didnt think to tell her friends her new pet was a spider so they come over to see her new pet whose name is stripe and they're expecting a cat or something normal, and then its very much not a cat and they're just like what the fuck?

Also Tim is fucking terrified of that tarantula and I just love the idea of him going I to her room to give her a hug and kiss goodnight and just fervently not looking even in the vague direction of the spiders tank/habitat/whatever you keep spiders in lol