#WHY THE FUCK WERE THERE SO MANY PEOPLE WHO WERE SO DEDICATED TO *HURTING* HIM WHEN HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING TO DESERVE IT

[benevolentvampire]

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[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Adoring Fan

Kinktober Day 7: Worshipped

Human Male Yandere x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader

CW: Noncon, stalking, kidnapping, religious symbols, reader worshipped, vampirism, blood consumption, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 840

(Hope you enjoy this short fic. At least it's longer than a drabble.)

You were a high-ranking member of the Warrior's Guild. You were pretty renowned and had saved many people from all manner of beasts and disasters.

You weren't as bulky and brutish as most of the members, but you were just as strong and agile as the best of them.

This was because you were a vampire. Though no one actually knew that.

No one but the young man you had saved a few years back from a burning building. His silver crucifix necklace had touched your skin and burned you, forcing you to use your vampiric form. Pointy ears, fangs, dark eyes.

The young man, Nael, had promised to keep your secret. You had saved him after all. To him, your vampiric form was perfection.

But the more he thought about it, the more inspired by you he had become. He also became increasingly worried that someone would find your secret and hurt you. Your renown had gradually grown until you were a famous hero. He reasoned that the more eyes that were on you, the more likely it would be for someone to discover your secret.

His home and livelihood as a farmer had turned to cinders. It made it easy for him to leave his life behind.

Nael researched vampires, lived with monks for a while, and learned how to fight.

Then he set about finding you. It wasn't hard to find rumors and tales of your exploits, but you never stayed in the same place very long.

He decided to join the guild to make finding you easier. It did. It didn't take long for you to come to the main guil hall and pick up some assignments from the board.

Then he just had to wait on the path to your next job and ambush you.

Of course, your keen predatory senses could sniff out a human in hiding easily. Even hear their heartbeat.

Nael was prepared.

He used the most minor magic, available to all humans who were dedicated enough to learn, and silenced himself completely. He used sanctified dirt from hallowed ground to hide his natural smell.

As you passed him, he stuck you with an arrow that had been annointed in holy water. It wasn't lethal but rather acted as a paralytic sleeping agent.

You woke up in a cabin far from civilization that Nael had painstakingly prepared for you.

"Ah, you're awake!"

You were still paralyzed and could only grunt in anger and confusion. Had you been discovered? Was this an assassin? Why hadn't they disposed of you already? Were they hoping for information first? For you to turn them? Were they planning to blackmail you into doing something?

Your frantic racing thoughts were cut off by a greedy kiss and shaky hands rubbing up and down your thighs and then your sides.

You growled both in surprise and to show you did not approve.

"Shhhh, it's okay. You're safe now! You saved me years ago, and now I'm saving you!"

He stared into your eyes in sheer reverence before trailing kisses down your body.

"You m-must have been so scared that you'd be d-discovered! Your selfless nature would have g-gotten you hurt eventually… I'm s-saving you from yourself."

His voice was a comforting coo, and he pressed gentle kisses all over your face. You grunted, but he ignored it.

"I l-love you so much! I'll t-take care of all your needs, okay?"

He said this as he rubbed his hand between your legs. You made a strangled, high-pitched noise that sounded somewhat like a yelp.

"Blood, sex, safety. I-I'll take care of it all."

He pulled your clothing off and used his mouth between your legs until you climaxed, then he licked you clean of your fluids. After that he lubed you up and slid into your hole, gently fucking into you as he blushed deeply.

"I know your kind have a huge sexual appetite! I-I'll make sure to sate it~"

Nael kissed you constantly during the whole ordeal, moaning your name as he filled you deeply with the physical manifestation of his unbridled love.

When the holy water wore off, you jumped up and headed for the door. You found yourself sluggish and unable to overpower the amorous human.

"Get away from me, you psycho!"

He pulled you back into bed with him and held you close.

"I-I'm not a psycho… I just want w-what's best for you. You'll s-see soon. Your heroics exposed you, o-others would have found out eventually! Do you want to see the shrine I made for you??"

And you did see. The entire forest had been meticulously blessed and consecrated, and a large fence made from holy silver alloy enclosed the entirety of the land around the cabin.

That combined with the fact that Nael put a tiny dose of holy water in the blood he fed you resulted in you being majorly weakened and almost constantly fatigued.

There was no other choice but to let Nael tend to you in whatever manner he chose.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[wileycap]

The Stupidest Things In Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender: A List

a.k.a.

a whiny rant from someone who has dedicated far too many of their already limited number of braincells to atla i know it's just a tv show but come on this is what tumblr is for let me whine

For your consideration, with many spoilers:

5. Katara Being Smug After Kicking Jet's Ass

In the original, Katara is betrayed by Jet. You can feel the raw emotion in the words "I trusted you! You're sick, and I trusted you!" immediately followed by her concern for the innocent people Jet has seemingly murdered. It's not a triumph, it's a wound, and the next time she sees Jet, her first reaction is "kill on sight".

This is great. It's heartwrenching, it's humanizing, and Katara using violence against Jet isn't a victory for her. It's just pain.

In the live action, Katara very mildly chastises Jet for trying to kill innocent people, which is... an interesting characterization for her, to say the least. Jet then tries to grab her, immediately followed by Katara throwing him and freezing him. She then just tells him goodbye. Her tone is placid, almost unaffected.

And then Jet says "Look at the power you have. That's because of me!"

Katara: "That wasn't you. That was me."

And then she strides off with a small smile, and that's the end of that. Sokka and Aang are not present. It's an incredibly hokey moment that's meant to emulate the style of feminine empowerment, but it has none of the substance. It glosses over any human feelings of hurt and betrayal. All that the it ends up doing is removing a story beat for Katara.

4. The Badgermoles

"They're blind! They sense feelings and react to them! Anger, fear... but mostly love."

Katara and Sokka hold hands in a cave and it makes the badgermole stop attacking them.

The blind badgermoles. Navigate by... love.

Yeah.

Do I need to say anything? Can we all see (pun intended) how stupid that is?

3. Bumi Makes Aang Choose Between Killing Him Or Letting Himself Die To Make The Dumbest Point Imaginable

Remember Bumi? Aang's old friend, a fun, kooky king? Well, here he's an actual fucking psychopath.

He collapses part of the roof onto Aang, and Aang holds it up with airbending. Another part of the roof collapses on Bumi, and Bumi just... shrugs his shoulders, fully intending to die. Aang holds that one up as well, and Bumi, instead of helping, makes the dumbest fucking point I've ever heard about "making tough choices", and urges Aang to let the boulder crush him.

Again. Bumi, the fun, wise king, wants Aang to kill him.

The situation is defused by Katara freezing a little strip on the floor so that Sokka can very slowly slide on it and tackle Bumi to safety. I can not emphasize how slow his slide is. Running would have been faster. Bumi has time to look at him and say "Huh?" as Sokka slowly slides across the floor. Oh, yeah, they were led onto the scene by the love-sensing badgermoles.

Then it's Aang's turn to be dumb. He says "you CAN rely on your friends" and hands Bumi a friendship rock. Bumi is pacified for now, but there is no telling when his next Saw trap will activate.

This made me actually feel bad. I just. I kept expecting for it to turn into a secret lesson, like Bumi in the original show, but it never did. Bumi's just a spiteful psychopath who is easily swayed by the gifting of rocks.

2. Koh The Face-Stealer Has A Backstory Now

Why? Mother of Faces? What? No.

No.

Iroh Is Intimidated By Zhao, And Then He Kills Zhao

Ah, Live Action Iroh. The most ineffectual man on the planet.

So, Zhao has the Moon Koi in a bag, and is ready to stab it with his special stabbing implement. Iroh is standing right behind him. RIGHT BEHIND HIM. Iroh has been there the whole time. Iroh does not want Zhao to kill the fish.

Iroh says: "Whatever you do to that spirit, I'll unleash on you tenfold!"

Remember how in the original, where that was like a big, shocking moment that he got angry? And how Zhao immediately let go of the fish, only to then have his anger get the best of him? How Zhao attacked the spirit by surprise?

Well, here it's a little different. For one, like I already said, Iroh doesn't come in suddenly, he sort of gets bullied into looking for the spirit by Zhao. Then he looks for the spirit, and after Zhao finds it, then he decides that he really has a problem with killing the spirit. He did protest before, but then he kind of just caved and helped anyways.

He threatens Zhao, and Zhao just... brushes him off. "Spare me your empty threats." Then the firebenders next to Iroh sort of... glower at him menacingly, and Iroh looks worried.

Zhao offers Iroh a place at his side once he becomes Fire Lord, which, uh? Okay. Fine. I actually don't have a problem with Zhao wanting to be Fire Lord, that seems to be entirely on brand for him, but everything he does to get to that goal is just stupid.

Aang arrives, they talk, Aang says "I don't matter", and then Iroh, who has sidled past the Glowering Firebenders Who Do Nothing Else, shoots the fish out of Zhao's hands. And then, as Zhao is on the ground, reaching for the fish with his special stabbing implement, Iroh forgets that he can shoot fire out of his hands, and lets Zhao stab the fish.

AND THEN Iroh, who literally stood by two different times and let Zhao kill the fish, decides to kick everyone's ass. And the Glowering Firebenders do nothing. One of them just stands in the background. Iroh doesn't even attack that guy.

In the original, Iroh immediately leaps into action after Zhao kills the spirit by means of surprise attack, takes out Zhao's guards in about a second, and Zhao escapes.

Here, he doesn't do anything at first except help Zhao find the spirit he doesn't want to see killed, then back down, then do something, then back down again, then do something again, then forget that he can do anything, and then he does something again.

It's just... so dumb. (So dumb it's brilliant!) No! It's just dumb!

And then, fifteen minutes later, after Zuko has dueled Zhao, Iroh kills him. Iroh just barbecues him by striking him from behind. Gee, Iroh, if you were willing to do that, why not just do it when Zhao was holding the fish?

Dishonorable mentions:

The fact that all of the actors fit their characters so well and have some great moments, but the show just doesn't support their performances at all. I feel so bad for all of them, being robbed of a chance to shine by some truly awful writing, editing and direction

The Ocean Spirit making Godzilla noises

June flirting with Iroh (didn't they say that they wanted to remove iffy stuff from the original? Well, that whole thing was iffy in the original. Why didn't you cut it entirely?)

Zuko doing the jazz hands to charge an attack

All the clunky and unnecessary exposition (for example: after Aang turns into the Ocean Spirit, Yue immediately turns to Sokka and narrates that Aang has turned into the Ocean Spirit, for almost 30 seconds)

The fact that Aang can only communicate with each Avatar at their shrines

The Ice Moon

The Cabbage Man literally turning to shout his line to the heavens while fire rages around him

The Secret Tunnel song being shoehorned in for no reason

Iroh's entire backstory being shoehorned in for no reason

Ozai being a caring dad actually

Zuko being shocked that Ozai prefers Azula

Gran Gran's speech

The fact that they showed Gyatso being killed by Sozin (literally nobody needed a big action scene, because that's what it was, predicated entirely on the genocide of the Air Nomads)

And finally, the fact that Sokka and Yue's reason for going to the Spirit Oasis is that Momo was fatally injured.

[weebsinstash]

When I say with my entire being in my heart of hearts that I know with certainty that this-this-this THING right here would do the absolute most unbelievable petty gross obsessive dahmer level shit to you

He's petty he's evil he's got a childlike fascination for seeing what breaks people down and I hate him I hate him I hate him but ALSO what that dick do tho? 🤔

Mahito is the yandere over here doing shit like imprisoning you for his own selfishness and perhaps genuine affection but making you live in absolute deplorable conditions because He's Not Fucking Human And He Doesn't Even Know How To Feed You. He locks you away and disappears for an entire day and comes back with like a single can of wet dog food that he watches you eat from a squatting position like 5 inches away looking at you like Harley Quinn and the egg sandwich. Motherfucker would take all your clothes because he wants to see more of "the natural shape of you" and then doesn't understand why you start shivering. Or he deliberately keeps you like that because he wants to see how long it takes you to crack and beg him for help. He wants to see the depths of your pride as you refuse to grovel, curious of the lengths you'll go, the limits of your body against the chill

This depraved fuck will do dehumanizing little emotional experiments on you where he does shit just because he wants to see how you think and feel and what you'll do and I mean like he'll do SOME REAL SHIT. I'm talking maybe he's stalking you and you can't fight or use cursed techniques and you think he's just like, a human shaped spirit or something who's just a trickster, he's not being violent or getting you alone or anything yet, and then you come home to your apartment one day and he's literally disemboweled your cat on your coffee table and he's playing with pieces of it and says you were giving it more attention than him and sits there pouting as you scream and even tries to like touch you or hold your hand or hug you with. The fucking blood covered hands. like he would be so fucked up on purpose, "awww do you need me to hold you? You're so sensitive but i dont mind :3"

This man out here like "wdym you want me to stay away from you, all I did was kill your cat kill your mom kill your neighbor kill your best friend kill your boss' cousins' landlords' newborn baby BUT WAS THAT REALLY SO BAD 🥺" and does something infinitely worse to scare/coerce you into tolerating his presence

I'm not really uh into body horror or gore but as a side detail I feel like. Uh. There's like a legitimate risk of him actually unintentionally REALLY hurting you and has to use his powers to heal you. Like the one good thing he does is if he were to have you on death's door or like horribly injured he could just. Fix it. He twists a limb in a way he doesn't know it's not supposed to go and breaks it and then puts you back together like a broken toy while ooo'ing and aaa'ing at the way your skin stretches over the grotesque misalignment. Dare I say the horror of "him putting things that are way too big or weirdly shaped in you" also yeah he's one of the things he's putting in you and he's got a really gross like fascination with learning all about that stuff

He's really living just to see how many different ways he can make you cry and how many different emotions he can get you to display, just absolutely dedicated to terrorizing you while also chasing his own internal weird repressed desire for his own sort of belonging. You could be sitting there sobbing and he's either borderline getting off on it or he's standing there MAKING FUN OF YOUR CRIES like deadass even fake crying back to you

And the worst part is he'll do all this fucking shit to you and then the night comes and he'll still be over here like "and you'll let me cuddle you while you sleep right? 👉👈" and he'll be doing that Every. Single. Night. And what are you gonna do, try and kill yourself? Have fun risking accidentally making yourself a Curse and being stuck with him basically FOREVER

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 & 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lip gallagher x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: if there is one notable trait of lip gallagher other than his over-the-top cockiness and brains, it’s his disdain for all things lovey-dovey. but what happens when someone comes around who turns his world upside down?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1964

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i quickly finished this wip so i could meet my goal of posting at least one fic per month. next month will definitely have more writing but i hope you all enjoy this very late valentine’s day fic

check out my other lip fic, distractions here and my writing here! preview to my new lip fic, stress relief || fic here!

buy me a coffee!

— • —

Lip has never been one for theatrics or romance or anything of the like, and he prides himself on that. He thinks of himself as a simple guy who doesn’t need much charm to get laid.

So why is he standing in line on a cold, bitter morning to buy flowers?

When he met you, Lip had sworn off getting attached or dealing with girls who would be attached. He had dealt with so much drama and crazy exes over the years, and honestly, he was over it.

But, somehow, you had wormed your way into his life, or rather, him into yours. Something about the chase - you not wanting him and him wanting you - made the idea of being with you even more intriguing. Now, he knew no meant no, but after a month or two or three of him pursuing you, you finally obliged.

Unbeknownst to the brunet, your want for him didn’t suddenly start after he chased you. From the beginning, you’d found an interest in him, but unlike the previous girls he’d dabbled with, you weren’t looking for a wham-bam-thank you ma’am situation. 

You weren’t a sap. You loved your rom-coms, but you weren’t looking for Prince Charming to swoop down and rescue you. You certainly could save yourself. So, what were you looking for? You wanted someone who didn’t care about holding your hand but wanted to. You were looking for someone who wanted you for you and not what was in your pants. And that’s why Lip was not the person you had in sight.

You had too many people in your life who wanted you for the wrong things, and though you were strong enough to kick them to the curb, it hurt a little. You watched rom-coms, so of course, you’re a bit sensitive. And you’d be lying if you said those movies didn’t affect what you wanted in a partner.

So when Lip came around, all smirks and cockiness exuded, the only thought that crossed your mind was: “Hot.” Lip might have been hot, but he wasn’t so hot that he clouded your judgment. You’d quickly deduced that your interests were not aligned and didn’t even spare him a second glance.

Okay, that’s a lie. You thought the guy was hot, so saying you only looked once is incorrect. But there’s a difference between looking and fucking, and you certainly were not fucking him.

But sure enough, after getting to know him, you felt your walls crumbling down. Gone were the days when you would ask your coworkers to inform you if he came into the shop so you wouldn’t be unprepared. You liked the unannounced visits. 

You took the whole self-love thing pretty seriously, so before you let someone into your life, who could easily hurt you without hesitation, you wanted them to deserve you. Seeing his dedication made your heart skip a beat faster than you would like. And every time he showed up, you found a smile creeping on your face.

At one point, your manager even asked if you two were dating with how often Lip came around. He was a regular at your job and a constant in your mind.

He always came down to the little shop you worked at, chatting you up until the customers came in. Even then, he’d be staring at you, pulling faces and winking until you would roll your eyes and turn your head to hide your grin.

But despite the numerous butterflies he unleashed upon you, you were still hesitant, and rightfully so. Though Lip had proved himself to be caring, both of you knew that this whole dating and being romantic thing wasn’t him.

So, that’s why, when Ian was thinking about what he should get Mickey for Valentine’s Day, Lip knew what he needed to do. 

The idea was so foreign to him that he felt like a dumbass, but with the number of rom-coms you forced him to watch and how you fawned over the courtship, Lip pushed the discomfort away. After all, you were the only “normal” girl he’d ever been interested in that was interested in him too.

With how fast the news spread in his family, it didn’t take long before everyone asked about you - where you were from, what you were like, why you wanted to be with him, of all people. The last one had lowkey offended him, but he couldn’t disagree. 

You were special. You were the kind of person someone like him rarely came across, and he wasn’t letting you go that easily. Not if he could help, so brave the cold he did.

Lip was blowing hot air on his hands to warm them from the crisp winter air. He debated walking away and picking you some dry flowers from the ground but decided against it when he reminded himself that you deserved better than that.

Just when he thought his joints would lock in place, the line dissipated, the last person escaping the cold with their flowers in hand. Finally, it was his turn, but as he approached the stand, he was immediately overwhelmed by all the different shapes and colors.

His eyes scanned over the entire display as he fidgeted. Lip thought it would be easy to find you a bouquet of flowers, but it was proving to be more difficult than he thought. He racked his brain for any memory of you mentioning flowers you liked, but he came up empty.

“Can’t decide?” The seller asked, a hint of a smile on their face.

Lip laughed shortly, “Yeah, something like that. There are so many fucking flowers.”

“I like to have a variety. You’d be surprised how many people ask for the oddest flowers.” The seller watched Lip’s eyes flit from section to section before offering a reprieve. “What do you have in mind?”

Lip shoved his hands in his pockets, brows pinching together. “Uh, shit, I don’t know. Something purple, maybe?”

“Purple?” They clarified, nodding. “I can work with purple.”

As they readied their supplies, they nodded over to Lip. “Is this your first time? Buying things like this?”

The brunet suddenly felt exposed. “That obvious, huh?” He asked though he was sure his constant shuffling and wide-eyed expression answered his question.

“I’ve been doing this for a while, picked up some people-reading skills. For one, you look like you might throw up.” The scents were making his nose twitch. “And two, you’re nervous as hell. That usually means one of two things: you’re just awkward, which I totally get, or you don’t want to fuck up. I’m going to take a guess and say it’s the latter, right?”

Lip smirked, “Yeah, you got me. I don’t do this whole,” he removed his hands from his pockets to gesture to the wide display of flowers “romantic thing if you couldn’t tell.”

The seller smiled as they delicately placed the flowers together. “Oh, no, I definitely couldn’t tell. So I'll take it that this person is pretty special, huh?”

The brunet nodded, his smirk morphing into a genuine smile, “Yeah. Pretty special, yeah.”

“What’s so special about them?”

He had no idea where to start. There was so much Lip loved about you. “So, this girl, right? She’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and honestly, I don’t know what she sees in me because I can be a piece of shit sometimes. I’ve never really felt obligated to do this for all the other girls I've been with before, but the thing is, with her, I don’t even feel obligated. Like, she’s not forcing me or some shit. I just want to, you know. She knows I’m not into all this sappy bullshit, and I doubt this is the last place she’d expect me to be, but I don’t know, it just feels right.”

Lip had been rambling about you for so long that he hadn’t even noticed that the seller had finished the bouquet and was listening to his words with a smile. “Ah, love is a beautiful thing.”

His eyes widened more than they had when he approached the stand, and the look of shock on the brunet’s face sent the seller into boisterous laughter. Lip’s words came out frantic. “I mean- love is a strong word- I don’t know. Maybe?” 

“Hey, don’t sweat it, kid.” The seller handed over the bouquet. “But you talk about someone like that, don’t let them go, ‘kay?”

-

All the way to your apartment, Lip thought over the seller’s words. He didn’t love you. Really, really like you? Sure. Love? No. Absolutely not. He just enjoyed your company, and you made him smile even on his bad days, and you didn’t give him shit whenever something came up with his family and-

Shit. He might actually love you.

He didn’t have long to ponder when the door to your apartment opened. Your roommate was on her way out when she bumped into Lip. 

“Oh, hey,” she said. Lip nodded in acknowledgment, adjusting the gift in his hand, which caught her attention. “You got her something for Valentine’s Day?”

Lip looked down at the bouquet, “Uh, yeah. Is she here?”

“Yeah, you know her, never leaves the apartment. But it's sweet of you. She’s a major sap, so she'll love it.” Lip was glad to know your best friend approved. He never sought other people’s opinions, but he knew you valued hers.

“I’ve got a date to get to, but I swear to whatever you believe in that if you hurt her, I’ll hurt you.” 

Now, Lip wasn’t easily deterred, but the smile on your roommate’s face as she threatened him had him slightly concerned. You saved him when you emerged from behind the door with a knowing smile. “Leave him alone. You’re going to be late.”

Your roommate checked her phone. “Okay, okay. I’m going.” She innocuously smiled at you before giving a silent warning sign to Lip, and it was then that he knew he needed to walk around eggshells when it came to her.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Lip produced the flowers with a smirk to hide his nervousness. Though he had been hesitant about getting you the flowers, watching your face light up made waiting in the cold and getting threatened by your roommate so worth it. 

You gushed appreciation, the smile on your face growing wide as you placed your flowers in a vase after inviting him inside. Lip watched you with a smile of his own as you added water and set it on the window sill.

You approached him with a simpering grin. “You must really like me, huh?”

He thought back on what both the seller and your roommate said. He wouldn’t just do this for anyone. But for you, he’d stand out in the rain if he had to.

He squinted his eyes, bringing you closer to him. “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe I need a little convincing.”

You hummed, leaning forward to press your lips against his. You pulled away, leaving him chasing after you. “Only a little, right?”

“Maybe a little more.”

You kissed him again, this time more heated than the last. His hands circled your waist as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers found purchase in his hair, weaving through the messy tufts.

You were about to show him how convincing you could be when your phone chimed loudly, disrupting the moment. Much to his reluctance, and yours, you separated from him to check the message.

“use protection, kids,” was the text from your roommate. You showed it to Lip, who only donned a smirk as he reached for you again.

“Looks like we should take her advice, dontcha think, babe?”

———

click here for a preview to my upcoming lip fic, stress relief!

fic here

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Color of Blood

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: canon violence, mentions of blood, cursing

Word Count: 2,608

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

You shifted in the seat uncomfortably. Natasha, to your right, shot you an apologetic look, but it was hardly sincere considering the smirk she wore. You had drawn the short straw, so you were sitting bitch between her and Agent Sitwell. More like Agent Judas. You were still in shock that an organization you had dedicated most of your life to had actually been HYDRA infested this entire time. Of all the missions you ran, you wondered how many had been fueled by HYDRA’s goals and desires. It physically hurt your heart to linger on that thought.

“HYDRA doesn’t like leaks.” Sitwell snapped as he leaned towards where Sam was driving. His thigh pressed up against yours and you were not discreet in shoving him off you.

Sam shook his head, eyes on the road, “Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?”

“Insight’s launching in 16 hours.” Natasha chimed in and you glanced down at the watch on your wrist.

You bit back an aggravated groan, “As per usual, we’re cutting this save the world thing kind of close.”

“That does seem to be our style.” Natasha hummed from beside you.

Steve glanced back with a nod, “We’re gonna use Sitwell to bypass the DNA scanners and access the helicarriers directly.”

“What?!” Sitwell shoved forward and you had to physically resist throwing his limb off of you. “Are you crazy!? That is a terrible idea.”

“Look, Sitwell--” You snapped in anger, but the low thud of something hitting the roof of the car made you pause as everyone’s eyes shot up. Seconds later an arm smashed through the backseat window, grabbed Sitwell, and ripped him out of the car. You turned just in time to watch a large truck smash into the man. The arm disappeared from view and you heard the familiar sound of a gun. “Nat!”

Your old friend was already ahead of you. She leapt forward, into Steve’s lap, as a bullet fired down into the backseat to your right. Natasha called out your name, but just like her you were already moving. You reached up front grabbing Sam’s shoulder. A bullet fired toward Steve, Natasha yanking him forward and out of the way, and another was fired at Sam, but you were able yank him to the side so it hit the headrest.

Steve reached out and slammed the emergency break bringing the car to a screeching halt. Natasha rolled off Steve onto the floorboard and your own head slammed forward into the edge of the seat. It caused you to bite down on your lip hard, and when you brought your finger to your mouth a warm liquid coated your fingers.

People told you blood was red, and you weren’t entirely sure what that meant, it wasn’t something you could picture, but the shade of gray on your fingers was immensely familiar to you. Over the years, you had become well-versed in that particular shade of gray.

All eyes looked forward as the man on the roof, who had flown off, managed to flip over and land with ease. His metal fingers digging into the asphalt bringing up bright sparks. He slowly stood up, and you only hesitated for a second before pulling your gun out of your holster and aiming it forward. Before you, or Natasha, could get a single round out, something slammed into the back of the car forcing you forward again as glass exploded behind you.

“Fuck!” You barked in both jarring surprise and pain. You managed to keep your hand on your weapon as the car slid forward, but the Winter Soldier leapt from the road and landed back on top of the car. Sam slammed on the brakes, but it only filled the air with the sound of squealing tires since the men behind you were still ramming into your car. You turned and fired a round of shots, but not a single one pierced the bullet proof glass.

When you turned to reload, you watched as a metal hand crashed through the windshield, grabbed the steering wheel, and ripped it out. Sam leaned back in surprise and barked, “Shit!”

Natasha, who got a hand on her weapon again, fired rounds into the roof while you struggled to get a new clip into your gun. The Winter Soldier jumped off the roof and onto the front of the car behind you. Finally reloaded, you began to turn so you could fire, but the truck slammed into the car again and suddenly the car spun sharply to the side.

It was going to flip.

Steve realized this the same second you did, and he caught you off guard when he reached into the backseat, his fist tightly bunched into your shirt, and ripped you into the front seat.

“Hang on!” He yelled and the next moments were a blur. The kind of blur you assumed only a super solider would be able to follow. One moment you were in the car, and the next you were lying on Steve’s chest, beside Natasha, with Sam pressed on top of you. Sparks flew around the group of you as the car continued to roll, while the car door slid along the road. It all happened in seconds, and it couldn’t last. Sam slipped off first, rolling off to the side, and you were the next to fall off while Steve and Natasha continued to careen down the road.

Your body slammed into asphalt hard and the world around you spun a few times as you rolled along the hard surface. When you finally stopped it took a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings. Despite the pain, you pushed yourself to stand. Sam was off to the side, in good enough condition, and hiding behind a car. Up ahead were Steve and Natasha.

The truck stopped and you watched in shock as the Winter Soldier was handed a grenade launcher. A curse was half out of your mouth as you realized you had lost your gun in the fray and the Soldier fired his own weapon. Steve threw his shield up in time, but it hit him dead on and sent him flying back. Steve clipped the hood of a car, flipped over, and then disappeared off the side of the bridge.

Natasha’s eyes caught yours and you nodded once. Years of working together meant words often weren’t needed. She’d be on the bridge with Sam, you needed to cover Steve. Gunfire filled the air as you sprinted to the side of the bridge and jumped. When your feet left the concrete, you fired a zipline from the gauntlet on your wrist that dug into the concrete and rappelled you down just slow enough that you didn’t end up a smudge on the ground.

Steve had been thrown into a bus that now sat on its side. You unclipped the used cord and sprinted to the front of the bus. Screaming and gunfire still filled the air and you helped a few people near the front of the bus out of the vehicle while telling them to run to safety.

“Steve!” You yelled and ducked under the broken glass to get into the bus. You spotted the blond lying on his back slowly shifting up and made your way toward him. Each person you passed you dragged up and told them to run. “Steve!”

You grabbed his shoulder and helped him sit up. He grunted in pain, “Nat and Sam?”

“On the bridge, last I saw.” You replied. “Shield?”

“Lost it on the road.” Steve motioned to the front of the bus, “Get out. Get everyone on the street to safety. Now.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You turned and climbed out of the bus back onto the street. A familiar face ran past you on the other side of the street ducking behind cars. Natasha. That meant Sam was up there alone? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. You ran forward and began to herd civilians out of crashed cars and down the street. The slamming of another car made you glance back to see the Winter Soldier land harshly on the roof of a car under the bridge.

Bad sign. Very bad sign.

Heavy artillery fire echoed behind you and you moved even quicker. As you sprinted down the street looking for Natasha with the Winter Soldier slowly stalking down the road towards the two of you, you spotted a small group of people huddled behind a car off to the side. You veered off the road to them.

“You can’t stay here, it isn’t safe.” You barked and began to drag them down the sidewalk. A car exploded into a ball of fire behind you. Shit, he was close. You ripped your jacket off, wrapping it around your arm quickly, and then slammed your elbow into the glass on a storefront door so it shattered. You reached in to unlock it, then herded the people inside, “Get all the way to the back and stay hidden!”

You dropped your jacket and didn’t bother picking it back up. Instead, you took off again knowing Natasha would be facing the Soldier alone if you didn’t get there in time. As you sprinted around the corner you spotted Natasha jump onto the Winter Soldier’s shoulders. She used a cord to try and choke him out, but his arm stopped the move entirely. You ran in, without hesitation, and slammed into the Soldier’s back with a grunt in hopes it would jar him enough that Natasha could get a grip. She managed to tighten the hold just a bit, but a thick leg kicked out, backwards, and the asset’s boot slammed into your chest sending you sprawling back and into the side of a car.

With a cry of pain, you fell forward onto your chest. You desperately sucked in a sharp breath, trying to regain the air you lost, and as you shifted to try and get up you felt your entire body ache. The ribs on your right side were broken, you recognized that pain. Natasha must have gotten thrown off too, she was across the road, and she gave you the signal to retreat before throwing a widow bite onto the Soldier’s arm.

Despite the pain, you sprinted toward her and as the Winter Soldier slumped over to try and regain control of his arm, you and her ran down the side road. This one was still crowded with people who were too panicked to listen when you told them to get the hell out of the way. Luckily for them, unlucky for you, it seemed the asset’s main focus was on the two of you.

A shot rang through the air and Natasha cried out in pain while stumbling forward. You cursed and grabbed her, pulling her behind a car, while she tried to refocus through the pain. A through and through bullet wound. Right shoulder. “Shit.” You mumbled again and pressed down on top of her hand that was already on her wound. That same familiar shade of gray leaked over both of your hands. “It’s bleeding too much.”

“Get the hell out of here.” Natasha hissed.

“No.” You snapped. “Not without you.”

She whipped around to look over her shoulder in panic, and when you followed her gaze you watched as Steve sprinted out of nowhere to attack the Winter Soldier. The metal arm punched out against the shield, like the ringing of a gong, and you breathed a quick sigh of relief.

“We gotta go. While Steve has him distracted.” You looped her arm around your shoulders and began to drag her away. Natasha began to complain through grunts of pain, but you didn’t slow down or argue with her. In a matter-of-fact tone, you spoke, “I’m getting you to a safe spot and then I’ll help Steve.”

You got her to cover behind a van, and ignoring her yelling after you, ran back out to where you had left Steve. When you got back, Steve was just standing there. The Winter Soldier stood between the two of you, facing Steve, but all you could see was the look of disbelief on your friend’s face.

What the hell was going on?

Why had the fight stopped?

The Soldier raised his gun again, Steve was still frozen, but you only got another step forward when Sam dropped from the air from your right and kicked both his feet into the asset. The Winter Solider went careening to the side as Sam landed. Now you had him surrounded, Steve to his right, Sam in front of him, and you to his left. You stepped forward with arms ready for a fight. Did you think you could come out of a tussle with the Winter Soldier alive? Absolutely not. But, you could keep him from escaping past you while the others closed in.

Sirens could be heard in the distance, the asset stood back up from where he had fallen and you realized now you could see his face. He no longer had the mask on, and he was… vaguely familiar? Where had you seen that face before? Before you could ponder a second longer on that, his glaring eyes dragged from Steve to Sam and then from Sam to you. The moment your eyes met his though, it felt like your world had fallen out from under you.

Shades of gray and black turned brighter and with every blink something new flooded your senses. It was too much all at once. Your once bleak world exploded with color and you sucked in a sharp breath as your arms fell to your side. In fact, you were so distracted by the vivid scenery around you that it took you a few moments to realize the cause of this had been the Winter Soldier. HYDRA’s number one asset. The man who had been trying to violently murder all of you less than thirty seconds ago.

If the Soldier was surprised, you didn’t see it. He suddenly lunged to the left just as something hit the car behind him sending it up in flames. A grenade. You had been just a bit too close and the force of it sent you sprawling back. The back of your skull bounced off the asphalt and suddenly the oh so colorful world seemed to be spinning. Dazed, you stared up at the sky.

The blue sky.

Your hand reached back to touch the warmth dripping from your head and when you shakily brought you hand back into view, blood coated the fingers. Red blood. Oh.

So, that’s what red looked like.

Still stunned from the blow, you struggled to sit up, but you were only a few inches up off the ground when someone grabbed you and threw you over their shoulder. The movement made your world spin again and you groaned out in pain as you hung limply over the broad shoulder that was now carrying you. You heard your name being called out, but sounds were beginning to grow dim. Replaced with ringing.

“Steve?” You mumbled in hopes. He had broad shoulders. Maybe he was the one carrying you away. You blinked your blurry eyes a few times as they briefly came into focus as you stared at the back of the person carrying you. Black leather. Steve hadn’t been wearing black leather. The ringing grew louder as your eyes fluttered close. Your entire world went black before you could connect the dots on what was happening.

[next chapter]

[moonsuke]

Oh my fucking gosh all these edge lord lines Rin have been spouting were thrown at him by Sae first 😭

It makes me think Rin is constantly living in this trrrraumatic (lol) moment of his brother abandoning him, though it was painful too seeing Sae's expression when his lil brother first dismissed his dreams like that.

But ngl I get hyped seeing scenes like these:

Like yessss BRING BACK THE OG BLUE LOCK ENERGY. It also reminded me of Reo and Nagi lmao. I know most people when seeing scenes like these tend to take "sides" and hate on the ones who "leave" but I'm not one of them lol. Actually, I tend to like the ones who "leaves" 🤡

Anyway, its clearly meant to be sad and I do feel sad for Rin (and Reo) but my point is, this is what the narrative is going for, just enjoy it and don't make it so personal? Just go with the story??

I do feel very sad for Rin when he's sulking on his bed though, like poor baby ;-;

Aww 😭😭😭😭

But his reaction after makes me like him a lot more! As expected of my second fav :')

Especially his "These feelings... That time back then... You can't just pretend like it didn't happen!! Those weren't lies!!" I love how confident he is of his past memories and bond with Sae? It's refreshing? Compared to the typical reaction (that annoys me) of them completely forgetting the past and focusing too much on the present and hurt they feel? I mean he's still basing his future actions and entire personality off this event, but I just really like that he didn't just entirely dismiss and doubt their bond like that. Says a lot about their bond actually, or rather Rin's feelings towards it.

Also, I can see knsr is recycling tropes here 🤡 and loves making the ones who got abandoned react very intensely lol. He mentioned before he likes seeing characters in such downward spirals right? And he likes writing them in an over the top, over-dramatic manner?

I get Rin's logic of spiral though, he's dedicated his entire childhood to soccer because of his "dream" of being the best with his brother. He really gave his everything to it 😭 but it was all trampled upon by Sae, so I can see how this is equivalent to his life being ruined. It's always cool to see characters being so dedicated and single-minded to their goal (because I can never be like that).

So I'm guessing for the Sae and Rin plot, for Rin to crush Sae's "dream", Sae has to want to be a striker again? I would like some "role reversal" where Rin gets to be the midfielder for Sae's striker sometimes, or they take turns. Actually I would love this for ReoNagi too, where Reo wants to be the striker himself, and Nagi supports (and learns some playmaking skills finally) but we'll see... I still have so much of the manga to go 😭

It was very bizarre to see Rin (and Sae) being "normal" as kids, but that's typical right? Their story seems like a typical brotherhood turned enemies slash rivals trope? I've seen many compared them to Itachi and Sasuke but please, they'll never? I like Rin, he's my second fav after Nagi but he'll never be Sasuke no matter how many superficial similarities and tropes they share (Revenger, edgy, brother complex). I'm sorry but Rin lacks the flair that Sasuke has, which I suspect comes from how much the mangaka likes him. You can always tell there's something "extra" to a character because the creator likes them or vibes with them, almost like meta "star quality" lmao. This is why I like Sasuke and Nagi :)

Rin sadly, don't seem to receive that love.

Also I love their current dynamics lmao. Rin being the one to approach Sae first with the sibling rivary, Sae being cold but also getting caught up in it, calling each other shitty older brother and pain in the ass younger brother because their blood still ties them and they acknowledge that despite being so outwardly cold and stoic awwww :')

[lurkingshan]

On Boston and Brian Kinney

I’ve seen a lot of folks in the Only Friends tag recently making connections between the show and Queer as Folk, both US and UK versions, which makes sense because QaF is a clear reference for the show, both visually and thematically, and we know Jojo likes to reference western media in his work. One parallel folks are drawing is not tracking for me, however, so I am jumping in the wayback machine and putting on my old QaF stan hat to talk to y’all about Brian Kinney, and why Boston is actually nothing like him. Tagging @bengiyo and @neuroticbookworm who talked this through with me and also @slayerkitty because I saw you were contemplating this connection between the two characters.

So, first, why are people making this comparison? It really boils down to one thing: Brian and Boston are both sluts. That’s… pretty much it. They both like sex and prefer to have it with many different partners, and neither has much use for monogamy. But this is pretty much where their similarities end. 

So let’s remind ourselves who Brian Kinney is: a kind of fantasy of a hot, rich, self-actualized gay man with unmatched sexual prowess and a surface level flippancy masking a heart of gold. Brian is an adult man with a thriving career and money that he earned for himself after leaving his abusive and homophobic family (who would eventually explicitly reject him because of his sexuality). As a result, he is defiant in his commitment to live his life as loudly and queerly as possible—which includes a dedication to fucking and sucking, public sex, and a rejection of heteronormative constructs like monogamy.

Brian has a very clear moral code he lives by, even if it’s not one most can relate to. He decides to have a son with his (lesbian) best friend because part of him wants to believe in a better future and build a family of his own. He is extremely loyal to his found family even as he’s a jerk to their face most of the time, and he is always working behind the scenes to protect them even as he often hurts their feelings with his glib remarks and shitty behavior. Despite his disdain for monogamy, he never actually tries to destroy any of his friends’ happy relationships (in fact, he tries to sacrifice his own friendship with Michael to ensure he stays with his boyfriend).

Brian has a sense of responsibility to others and often takes on the blame for things he didn’t even do, which is why he takes baby gay Justin to Debbie and ensures he is cared for even as he tries to dissuade Justin from getting attached to him, and why he cares for Justin in the aftermath of his bashing. He cares deeply about his community, to the point where he pours his money into protecting the local gay scene, literally bankrupts himself to stop an anti-gay politician from winning an election, and gives up a dream job to stay put in Pittsburgh and help rebuild the community after a hate crime.

Brian is unflinchingly honest and he avoids making promises because once he does, he knows he will absolutely keep them—he takes his commitments seriously and he always does what he says he will. When he falls in love, he does not abandon his core values but he is willing to make some compromises. And he hides his better self and often wallows in self-destructive behavior because he feels deeply unworthy of love, which goes back to the intergenerational trauma he experienced as a child in an abusive home and the parental rejection he felt due to his sexuality. 

Boston, by contrast, is a character who feels more rooted in reality. He’s a pampered rich kid who is indulged in his hobbies and who already has a life plan laid out for him and paid for by his daddy. He likes to sleep around mostly because it’s fun, and because he knows his life here is temporary so he doesn’t see any point in getting attached to people. In stark contrast to Brian’s out and proud and fuck you if you have a problem with it brand of politics, he is still trying to hide who he is in service of his father’s political career, even if he’s pretty sloppy about it (see him fucking Top in a car with giant windows parked in the driveway at a house party).

Boston’s moral code is fungible and ever-changing to fit his circumstances—boy is a hypocrite (see his opinions about people filming and photographing him even as he does the same to others constantly). He has no loyalty and no qualms about hurting and betraying his friends, and actively tries to destroy their relationships for sport or as a means to get what he wants. He does not feel responsible for anyone and often lies and ducks accountability for the things he does. He does not care about his community at all, and in fact already has a NYC escape hatch in his back pocket for when he inevitably burns his bridges. He is not as honest as Brian and sends a lot of mixed messages to keep people guessing and on the hook.

Rather than hurting people by being brutally honest as Brian does, Boston plays psychological games and manipulates his friends and lovers, and he seems to take twisted pleasure in blowing up their happiness. We haven’t seen him make a promise or fall in love, and while there are some signs that he may have some sort of inferiority complex at play (with Mew in particular), his motives are not tied to any past trauma. Boston is just a messy bitch who loves chaos and doesn’t really care who gets hurt as long as he gets what he wants and stays entertained. Where Brian is literally a superhero to his loved ones, Boston is just a very flawed human being. 

But Shan, I hear you saying, I thought you liked Boston! I do, besties, I do. He’s a fantastic character and a very real kind of person many of us encounter in our 20s. Because that’s the thing: Boston is so young. He hasn’t developed any sense of responsibility to others or any understanding of the importance of queer community, and he has never had to take care of himself, which is perhaps the biggest difference between him and Brian. Brian has lived independently for more than a decade when we meet him in QaF, whereas Boston is a spoiled rich kid who has barely lived. Brian is a fully realized adult and his more nuanced characterization is a reflection of that; Boston is actually a pretty basic chaotic drama queen who will grow up eventually. 

TL;DR: Aside from being promiscuous, Boston has very little in common with Brian Kinney. He is more a reflection of a very real kind of person you will meet on the scene in queer communities than an homage to a larger than life fictional QaF character. And while OF is absolutely referencing some of the themes and values and stylistic flourishes of QaF, it is not making direct parallels to its characters. 

[menaathena]

Also, with the "they made each other feel important so they were important to each other" thing, I've been seeing some people surprised that Ford made Bill feel important but like. Have you seen how much Ford was glazing up this guy? He worshiped Bill. Literally. Ford regularly described Bill as something divine in nature. He hung on Bill's every word and eagerly awaited every bit of sporadic contact he got. "Sometimes I cannot believe how lucky I am to have come across my blessed Muse." He collected EVERY piece of Bill paraphernalia he came across, made some of his own, spread it throughout his house and created a dedicated shrine. Of COURSE he made Bill feel important!

Bill gives Ford shit for being massively insecure with a huge ego and desperately needing to feel special, which is true, but it's also a hugely hypocritical critique coming from him. These are flaws they both share. Bill is projecting. That's a huge part of why it was so easy for Bill to manipulate Ford when he's fucked up so many other attempts throughout history. Bill's kinda shit at manipulating people when he doesn't understand their motivations, but he understood Ford. He understood being a freak and social outcast who wanted to "show them all" and finally be seen as special and important. The difference is Bill doesn't care who he hurts in order to get his ego fix and never considers anything he does as wrong. Ford feels so much remorse for the people he's hurt and strives to become a better person.

[ardentpoop]

top 10 sam relationships ranked and why

for simplicity’s sake I will try to exclude threesomes/foursomes, platonic or otherwise. but note that every dynamic on the show that I have a dedicated pretentious tag for (all of which involve sam) is one that I like to play with in my head.

samndean. what can I say besides failmarriage of all time. one of the most interesting relationships ever portrayed on tv if you’re watching closely, and too many ppl try to cram it into a box and imo they’re all missing the forest for the trees (to be clear this does Not apply to most people who correctly recognize it as an abusive relationship; imo you can’t truly understand either of them or their dynamic if you are unable to reckon with this)

sam & jack. mother and son biologically linked to the same predator (lucifer) and orbiting the same violent head of household (dean)……both of them scapegoated for their Inherent Impurity and shuffled from cage to cage…..bursting at the seams with anger and grief over how powerless they feel to contain the powers that broadcast to the Men In Charge their slow but steady “corruption”…..sam couldn’t prevent jack from experiencing the exact same life-changing trauma that sam experienced at dean’s hands….what’s better than this 💕

sam & cas. shockingly underrated to this day. they’re patient and doctor (sexual) they’re worshiper and heretic (alternating. also sexual.) they’re dean’s brotherwife (sam) and dean’s cuck friend (cas) who’s in unrequited love with him and regularly getting his wife off in strange and unethical ways. they’re parents to jack and dean is the beloved angry man in their house who calls the shots bc they’re too sloppy and broken to make their own decisions. the lucifer&sam&cas link paralleled with the lucifer&sam&jack link. the devil’s rejects. sam can watch cas torture some guy with a look of admiration on his face and then they’re retiring to sam’s room in the bunker to watch shitty tv together in comfortable silence. cas experimenting with sam’s body is so commonplace that he can offer to do Anything to him and sam okays it without hesitation. I love thinking abt how their relationship developed over the seasons esp given where it started. delightful to me :)

sam & john bc they let me explore my many serious issues with my own father without burning myself too badly <3

sam & mary because much like sam and jack they were doomed from the start in the same way and watching them get hollowed out makes me want to scream (complimentary) plus the audience doesn’t appreciate either of them properly they are both Riddled with interesting bruises in the same places.

sam & meg bc BUABS gender fuckery forever (they’re both trans. to be clear)

sam & ruby bc ruby is dean-mirror and she is mother and she is fattening up her little lamb for the slaughter and she is teaching dumbo how to fly and she is saying “I’m sorry you’re hurting. I had no idea that dean would do that to you” and she is Poison, dean says, after locking sam up, and she is tenderly stroking the tears off sam’s face and smiling after she permanently shatters his faith in her.

sam & crowley. they are never ever fucking in a million years and that’s the best part. sam’s condescending “am I supposed to be impressed by that?” made my brain short-circuit. she isn’t this mean to Anyone else it’s beautiful.

sam & rowena. I can’t write the essay abt them that I want to write. they’re hot. I love how much crowley would’ve Despised seeing them getting along.

sam & gadreel for the fic potential alone. they are my little cutesies </3

[mischiefmaker615]

If You Love Me

Inspired by: "If you love me (really love me)" By Brenda Lee

Summary: "It doesn’t matter if the world is going to shit, I have you. That’s all that matters. The best part, eternity is forever."

~This one was kinda difficult cause the song has already cameoed in the Loki Series Lol 

Requester: @eleniblue

Rating: R (dark) 

You couldn’t remember the last time your body had truly relaxed on it’s own. Or when home felt like home. Or when you were able to feed yourself. Sleep by yourself.. or that you were able to see anything else beyond your bedroom.

Locked.

But why?

You were the only one who knew, that’s why. As the people mourned and dedicated the fallen second prince of Asgard, you stayed upon the balcony with the truth screaming in your mind that he was right there amongst them.

Odin.

Loki wasn’t dead.. not really.. perhaps dead to you, this wasn’t the god you had fallen in love with long ago.. he was kind, a gentleman, he lied- yes, but to keep a cruel joke running for this long? ..this wasn’t your Loki..

The announcement had spread that Thor was to set out to repair the nine realms while the news came back that amongst his last heroic mission, Loki had been killed. All father didn’t seem to be as.. broken as you were, to have lost your lover. Perhaps its because he’s seen death so many times, but to not crumble when your son is to never return home? He was heartless.. or so you thought.

Wasted tears.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, you had found yourself locked in your chambers with the rumors that you were plotting against the king. Lies! Word was to be believed that no one was in here, that the door was to remain a memory chamber and will be honored by no one entering.

Except one.

You were furious- furious to find out Loki had lied all this time about being dead, by impersonating Odin, by keeping all this from you of all people. On top of that, people believed you were in Asgard’s dungeons this whole time for treason! Loki tried to be accommodating, being the one to show up with food under the illusion of a chamber maid claiming she was ordered by the king to check on the ‘Memorial Chamber’ daily. He had you stay busy by tending to your own room, taking on the duty of a maid to yourself.

You had throw yourself at him, tried to hurt him, beg him, talk with him, but it all ended the same. He was more powerful than you, and shooed you off as no more than a fly while you tried to reason with him instead. One time, he had left you bound until you could control yourself to his liking.

Magic.

No one could hear. No one could see him enter, even in his disguise. No questions if there are no sightings. No sign of Thor returning anytime soon, or at least that is what you could hear by your constantly straining over the balcony. You had almost fallen that day until Loki had the idea to keep your ankle literally shackled so that you had room to roam anywhere until you are stopped just near the edge.

Prisoner.

You beat a fist against the railing in frustration, hating how your life has turned out, how the one you loved has obsessively locked you away for nothing but to hear him vent and fuck. In another life perhaps, you would be happy with that. Making love and sharing your hearts to each other. Yet a whole different perspective opens up when you find yourself limited with the feeling of choice being ripped away.

The sound of a door opening came from behind you but you didn’t bother to turn around. You knew who it was. The gentle breeze brushed threw your hair and dress as you looked down below the city, your eyes hardly focusing when your.. ex lover’s scent filled your nostrils in an intoxicating way. You hated him for still being attractive to your senses, but a monster to your eyes.

‘’what do you want?” you said coldly.

The feeling of two slender hands came around your hips, wrapping around your waist before they pulled you half a step back to rest against something solid behind you. With Loki, everything was solid.

‘’I’ve come to see how you are fairing, as I always do.’’ Loki said gently, pressing his nose into your hair with an inhale and you immediately felt his body relax. He needed this.

‘’and every time is the same answer.’’ You say coldly and Loki paused, stiffening a little as his tone gave you a warning.

‘’darling.. we’ve talking about th-‘’

‘’fuck. Off.’’ You snapped, jerking your body out of his grip to turn and face him. your icy stare did nothing to make him sigh, straightening to his full height as he put on the mask of a ruler, not of a lover.

‘’your Midgardian tongue still takes over you, I would hope after all these years of Asgard you would begin to forget it’s foul language.’’

‘’my whole life spent on Asgard will not erase the memories in which I came.’’ You snapped, your body tense as you stood in a defense position. Not that it would do you any good, the shackle limited your space and he was still much more powerful as he looked down his nose at you.

‘’I can fix that.’’ He threatened, the promise to wipe your mind with magic meant to scare you as you took a small step back. He merely laughed, showing he was merely jesting but you didn’t take his cruel jokes well as you looked away from him.

‘’..what do you want.. really..’’

Loki seemed to relax then, as if things just got back on track regardless of your demeanor now and felt him scoop your hands into his with a grip that didn’t show him letting go anytime soon. With his silence, you glanced in his eyes to find he was thinking, his gaze cast to the floor while his thumbs rubbed against your skin.

‘’..I’ve come to seek consultation.’’

You raised a brow, more out of the audacity than curiosity while he raised his eyes to look at you. ‘’..about what?”

‘’how Asgard fairs.’’

You almost laugh as you shook your head. ‘’how am I suppose to-‘’

‘’you are limited darling, but you are not stupid.’’ He told you carefully and motioned with the tilt of his chin towards the balcony. ‘’your sight is as good as the Ravens and can tell by just a simple view how our realm fairs. What does it need?”

Your eyes followed his gaze over your shoulder, looking over the realm although it could not see you from the height. You’ve watched every day, and you’ve been reminded how much different it was when Odin was around.. he still refuses to tell you where he is but you deny the idea of him being dead. You knew the answer would give you a negative result, but he wished for truth, from you out of all, which just shows he has lost all whom he cares about, leaving you the last.

‘’it needs.. a ruler.’’

You felt his fingers twitch around your hands, his expression hard but difficult to read as you straightened yourself before him. unafraid.

‘’..explain.’’

‘’..the nine realms lay in ruin, you need to spend more energy out there equally that you do in here.. the people need to be heard and noticed, not just wait for them to come into the palace with their requests. The defenses need to be equally spread out, in all entrances and not just one, that buffoon you had chosen to guard the Bifrost. To. Name. a. few.’’ Your words flowed out of your mouth as if you had practiced day and night for the question to be asked. You knew Loki, perhaps not as much as this one, but you knew deep down he cared for this realm, this home, and that at the end of the day, your words will follow him throughout his tantrums. Even now as his grip tightened every so slightly with his body stiffening.

‘’I am a great kin-‘’

‘’but a crappy leader.’’ Another Midgardian term. One in which had you spinning around so you were pressing up against his chest while his hand moved around you to hold you in place by your waist while his other hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look beyond the balcony.

‘’the sun shines my dear, the people are free to do as they please until the next order is carried out. they weep and attend the memories of my death, they miss me! They finally care.. of course it had to take me gone for them to realize, but upon watching through another’s eyes can be settled as the next best thing. Thor is gone and war does not threaten us.’’ His grip on your jaw tightened, your hands gripping his wrists with a desperate attempt to pry him off but he merely acts like he doesn’t notice. ‘’how, pray tell, am I a crappy leader?”

Your body tensed, but it was far from shaking as you stilled yourself. He never hurt you, he never will. It would seem he just enjoyed driving you crazy as you calmed your mind and shook your head. ‘’war is not hear yet but it will come if you are not ready and stop busying yourself with the pleasure aspects of ruling. They people follow the laws, yes, but sink to their knees only under the tip of a blade-‘’

‘’you believe this world is going to ruin Y/N? let it. I have everything I need, and it’s currently in my grip right now.’’ He hissed, his arm around you waist pulling you tighter against him while your ass feels his bulge press through his pants. Bastard was getting off on this?

‘’I love you, I have you, and will gladly let it happen if it means you are still at my side in the end..’’

‘’but with no choice.’’ You scoff, glancing down at the shackle that held around your ankle.

‘’choice is merely gifted to us by a mistake in the system Y/N.’’ Loki waved his hand. ‘’at the end of the day, war is inevitable. We are powerful, yes, but eventually we will lose, whether we are still alive to see it or not, everyone takes their turn. I have excepted that and will enjoy my turn of winning while I still have it.’’

‘’so.. you just give up on Asgard?” you gawked, wiggling in his grip when it began to feel uncomfortable while his head tilted down and his lips began to press gently at the skin between your shoulder and neck.

‘’Asgard is at peace, and always will be when I am on the throne.’’ He said with calm confidence. ‘’but upon my death some day, it will not matter what this place is, I will not be around to care. Which is why I am prioritizing now what I care about.’’

‘’and.. this is how you treat people you care about?’’ you ask with slight sarcasm in your whisper, reminding him how you’ve been locked away, shackled, your life a lie to other people who think you have betrayed your realm.

You felt him chuckle against you, nuzzling in your hair now as his body relaxed and a hand moving up your body to rest against your clothed breast, squeezing now and again while you squeezed your eyes shut at your body beginning to betray you between your legs.

‘’If the sun should tumble from the skies, if the oceans were to dry up, if the realm was to fall into absolute chaos.. I’d let it happen.. if it means I will still have you..’’ he breathed before letting his other hand from your waist fall and you left his fingers curl a bit, realizing he was pulling the fabric of your dress up.

‘’y-you cant just let others burn for one person-‘’ you whisper, your eyes widening as you begin to feel your body freeze by his words. He loved Asgard.. he’d give it up, turn his back for you?

‘’that is the beautiful tale of a villain darling, in which I’m sure you see myself as..’’

Silence.

‘’a hero, will sacrifice the one he loves to save the world..’’ he whisper, the dress being raised enough for him to move his hand under and his fingers found your center instantly through your panties, making you flinch with a useless hand pulling at his wrist. ‘’but a villain, will sacrifice the world for the one he loves..’’

‘’s-so.. you want to be a villain?” you whisper, your body beginning to shake as he began to stroke you through your panties. His hand was skilled, and you got small hints that his magic helped along as well when you began to already feel the pressure build up.

‘’ I'll do anything you ask. I will bring you a star if you so much breath it darling.. If it seems that everything is lost, I know one thing will not..’’

Your body began to shake, his grip on you making it impossible to pull away as he moved his hand so it can dip inside your dress to properly begin to knead at your globes. You stilled your body as much as you could while your mind began to grow fuzzy and hard to think until it had no choice but to have your head fall back on his shoulder.

Every time.. he always seemed to win like this in the end..

‘’let me go then.. if you love me..’’

‘’I cannot preform something I’m incapable of doing darling.. it would mean losing you..’’

‘’but if you love me.. really love me..’’

‘’I do love you darling.. so very.. very much..’’ with each word, he seemed to emphasize with the stroke of his fingers, small tight circles where your clit was as your back began to arch. How the hell was he so good at this even through your clothes??

‘’because I know your body darling..’’ he smirked and you tried to glare.

‘’you told me you wouldn’t read it anymore..’’ you warned him, breathy as your hand gripped his wrist, not sure if your body wanted to pull him away or to keep it there.

‘’but you have such a beautiful mind darling, so many thoughts and ideas.. even the naughty ones..’’ he smirked, going faster as your eyes fluttered.

‘’perhaps in the past.. before all-‘’

‘’even now darling. I know you hate me, but you love me for it as well..’’ he smirked, nipping at your earlobe as he could tell you were getting close. ‘’even at last our life on this realm is through.. you and I will share eternity.. forever..’’ he breathed, grinding his bulge against your rear while your thighs began to shake and press around his hand.

‘’I h-hate you-‘’

‘’you hate what I’ve done, but never me..’’ he smirked, licking at your soft spot by your ear before he smirked against your neck. ‘’cum..’’

A gasp left your lips while your body snapped, your orgasm rushing over as you shook and clenched around nothing while his fingers still stroked against your cunt. You hunched forward, almost losing balance if his arm didn’t wrap around you and turn you around, making you fall against his chest with his lips capturing yours.

You moaned against his lips, eyes closed while you relished in the loving and passionate act while his finger tangled themselves in your hair with his arm holding you steady around your waist. You didn’t realize once your high was over that he had backed you both into the bedroom again and once he broke the kiss, he gently pushed you back so you could fall onto the mattress with a light bounce.

‘’I’d love to stay and ravish you properly darling but I will be missing a very important play set to be put on this afternoon.’’ He suddenly said while you caught your breath and looking up at him with wide eyes.

‘’w-wha-‘’

‘’I will return love, do resist touching yourself until I have a chance to do it’’ he smirked and straightened his clothes out, a business like attitude washing over him as if he were talking to a client while he strode over to the door. ‘’I’m sure you will appreciate an afternoon of not being tied to the headboard again.’’

‘’f-fuck y-‘’

‘’language darling, we’ll just have to work on that matter over dinner.’’ He tsked before a familiar flash came to his eyes, making you blink and look away before in the corner of your eye you saw his new form leave you behind with the shut of the door.

Odin. 

DM a song for your own Loki Musical Mischief One Shot :D

Tag List: @foxherder @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

Note: Lets not forget THIS while we're on the subject XD

[alieinthemorning]

Hello! May I send a request for Twisted Wonderland?

Leona and Malleus specifically, reacting to a Gender Neutral Reader with the power of a empathic healer, meaning they can heal people by taking their injuries and placing them on themselves? They used this power very often due to them hating to see people hurt when they can help?

Thank you!

For Thee, Not for Me [Leona Kingscholar || Malleus Draconia]

Content: Blood and Injury, Reader has a Unique Magic | Signature Spells, Strong Language, Inappropriate Use of Unique Magic | Signature Spells, Can Be Read as Platonic or Romantic, Angst 

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You liked Magishift. It was a fast-paced game that if you weren’t paying close attention to, you'd miss a play that would have the disc in the other team’s possession. You liked it so much that you usually sat in for the Magishift club’s practice. 

Well, that wasn’t the full truth. The reason why you sat in on so many practices, mainly the practice matches, was because you were their self-imposed medic. Most of the time you dealt with injuries that could be resolved with a med-kit, other times you needed to use healing magics.

Then there were days like these,

“Worry not, there’s nothing for you to abide by. Leave all your worries to me. For Me, Not Thee.”

You didn’t even flinch as the deep gash along Epel’s forehead (and other more minor injuries) transferred from him to you. Instead, you immediately placed a hand to your temple, the ever so familiar tingle thrumming against your skin.  

You turned to the student who had caused the injury. “I would say be more careful, but that was obviously on purpose.” Your tone was flat, and your eyes were somewhat narrowed. 

You weren’t really mad, mainly disappointed. You hated when they got like this, when one of them felt like another was doing better, so they needed to sabotage in order to feel better about themselves. 

His lips curled back, obviously surprised that you had the audacity to call him out on his shit. “What the fuck do you know—”

“More than you, obviously.” Leona cut him off as he approached. “If you can’t keep your shit together, then you can go. Don’t need no pussy-footed fuckers on the team.” Despite the vulgarity of his words, his look was something else entirely. Full authority, no room for negotiation. 

That student has lost his position on the team. 

You sighed internally, knowing that this would cause more problems for you in the long run. 

Then, after checking on you and Epel (and making sure Epel thanked you), Leona had practice continue as normal. While you just sat there healing your head wound. Once practice was over, you were escorted back to your dorm by Ruggie. You also found yourself in his company for the next two weeks.

You had to continuously bite your cheek to keep yourself from blurting out your appreciation, not only for him, but his Dorm Leader. 

On the days without Magshift practice, you found yourself under a large tree watching Sebek and Silver spar with their batons. You found their dedication to their Lord admirable, that even in a school of adolescents that held no worthy flame to the Prince of Briar Valley that they would so diligently practice the sword. 

However, yet again, you had another reason for watching them so closely.  

Because no matter how quick and calculated their strikes may be, accidents are always along the horizon. 

He didn’t make a sound, just dropped to one knee as he clutched his side. You were at his side in mere moments. 

“Worry not, there’s nothing for you to abide by. Leave all your worries to me. For Me, Not Thee.”

This time you did flinch as the injury transferred. You weren’t fully healed from Epel’s injury, alongside others, and taking a new, serious one so soon really affected you. You slammed your eyes shut and clapped a hand over your mouth, bile threatening its way up your throat. Thankfully, with a pair of hands to steady your swaying body and another to rub soothing circles along your back, you were able to weather that storm. 

However, even though you had begun the healing process, you had found yourself in a bit of a bind.

“Ah. I’ll have to ask a favor of the two of you.” You hated to do this, but you knew that you were in bad condition. “Could you help me back to my dorm?”

“Of course.” Silver said as he helped you to your feet, then slung your arm over his shoulders. 

Sebek was hovering at your other side, biting his lip harshly.

You smiled, “If you keep biting your lip like that, I’ll have to take that injury too, you know.” He stopped, but he was still frowning deeply. 

Ah. 

Out of all the people who hated when you used your Unique Magic like this, Sebek was one of your most vocal. So this blunder must really be hurting him. 

You frowned as well.

Oh, if only you could take away negative emotions as well. 

The return to your room was quiet and filled with plenty of quick glances. The long stares had died down after your second year. You had been dubbed “Healer” by your peers, and even the freshmen knew of you. Someone to go to if you were in danger. 

Once they had made sure you were fine and settled, they set to leave.

Or rather, Silver did. Sebek lingered at your bedside, working at his lower lip again. You sent Silver off, then waited for Sebek. 

He didn’t have much to say. “You cannot keep pushing yourself like this.” His voice was soft, yet firm. “When you fall, who attends to you?” 

You smiled, but didn’t respond. He had heard your answer before.

“As long as everyone else is safe” then I don’t matter.

You should have seen this coming. You knew that despite your new-found companionship, that there would always be someone lurking in the shadows. 

So when the sudden shove at your back forced you forward, you were only mildly surprised. 

Your brain had already begun listing all the injuries you could get from being pushed down the stairs, reacting immediately when one of many was obtained. 

You didn’t scream, just grunted as you tumbled to the landing, biting your lip as the splitting headache made its way between your eyes. 

The both of you were quiet. You focused on healing and him focused on your silent, unmoving body. Then there was a flash of green, a short shriek then nothing again because you had passed out at that point.

Although, one last thought you had before you relinquish your consciousness was: 

“I’m gonna punch the shit outta that fucker once I’m in the clear.”

World traveled fast at Night Raven College. Especially when he was hidden in what he would consider to be plain sight. And regardless of whispers, his ears were sharper than most. 

He didn’t even wait for them to leave before he emerged from his resting place and set out to find you. His pace quickened as more and more information slipped from loose lips. You had healed two major injuries within the past week, which meant you weren’t in the best shape. But what was worse, is that you were shoved down a flight of stairs.

By one of his own.

He was going to hold him, but not until after he checked on you.

“Why are you here.” He snarled upon arrival. 

Of all the people who could have been at your bedside, this was the one he was least expecting. 

The Horned-Bastard himself, Malleus fucking Draconia.

The lizard-fucker turned to face him, head slightly tilted to the side with a small grin. “Fixing another one of your messes, it seems.” 

Leona growled, taking a threatening step forward. Malleus’ grin grew wider. 

“If either of you start, I swear I will never heal you again.” You croaked from the bed, forcing yourself upright. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Leona groaned, wiping a hand down his face. He crossed the room, ignoring the horned-bastard. “Didn’t even lay hands on’em, and you’re already thinking about healing—you’re the one in bed, dumbass.” 

You sniffled. “It’s just a White Cold.” He rolled his eyes. Of course, you would get sick from over healing yourself. “I’ve already taken the medicine for it, so I should be fine in a day or two.” You smiled at him—the both of them. “Thanks for checking in on me, though.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, just turned his back on you. “Why do I even bother…”

“Oh, if you’re gonna go now, can I ask you to do me a favor, Leona?” His ears perked up at that, you rarely asked for anything. “Could you handle the one from before? The pussy-footed fucker?”

“Snrk!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the laugh. He was not expecting you to say that. Once he regained himself, he answered. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I was already headed that way.” As much as he disliked leaving you with Draconia, he had to make sure business was handled. 

And the business was handled well. 

A hand on the back of the neck. Magic cracking down the back.

“I am hunger. I am thirst. I am what robs you of tomorrow. King’s Roar.” 

“One wrong step, and I’ll put your remains in an hourglass.” Was the only thing he said to him before he let the pussy-footed fucker loose.

Someone removed themselves from the shadows with a sigh. “I’m sure you’re gonna ask me to keep an eye on him, right?”

“No. I want you to keep an eye on the Healer. Make friends.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ll make sure to compensate you.” 

“Oh? Shishishi…aye, aye, sir!” Ruggie gave him a two finger salute before making his exit. 

Leona sighed. “I’m tired…”

Request complete! Thank you for requesting!

This was actually really fun to write, especially since I pushed myself to write at least 1,000 words. Well I actually wrote 1.5K!

Also please note that I call Spell Drive "Magishift" and I literally refuse to call it anything else.

This also very quickly became a Leona-centric thing (and also Sebek??? he had his little moment) instead of Leona and Malleus, but hey he at least showed up lmao.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist[Leona] | Masterlist[Malleus]

[positivelybeastly]

Goats Gremlin Gibber-Jabber part 2:

Oh we’re so back baby

Ahem ahem. First thing on the itinerary: Welcome back! Missed youuuu <3

Second thing:

HANK PUT EMMA BACK TOGETHER WHEN SHE WAS SHATTERED????

Hi in this session of my gibberish thoughts, my friend and I with our blogs made hank and Emma a thing, and there was something about them that made us so ill for them together. Granted my hank isn’t exclusive, but something with Emma clicked. And then. AND THEN

The fucking shattering of Emma, Hank discovering it after he had planned to try and cheer her up?

And then him DEDICATING himself to put her back together. And like like he got so far???

HE GOT CRAZY FAR BEFORE JEAN INTERVENED WITH THE PHEONIX.

I’ve been lost in the sauce from that moment on.

The fact that when someone said “Oh nobody liked her.” So everyone was a suspect, and he went “I liked her.” And then the fact he was convinced she couldn’t actually be dead, and then spent that time putting her back together even when the pieces were in the hundreds of THOUSANDS.

I’ve become ill from this (/pos) and I wanna hear your take on this section cause I just aaaagh.

Sincerely,

that weird fucking goat that keeps popping up and biting people.

Adding your addendum here so I can answer all in one go. :)

So, like . . . okay.

Hank and Emma's friendship is really special to me, and it all ties back to the way that Grant Morrison conceptualised Hank, when they came on to write New X-Men. It's worth noting that neither Hank, or Emma, were actually meant to be on the team when Morrison first pitched their story, they were originally going to be Colossus and Moira MacTaggert, but both had recently died. This is why Emma gets her diamond form secondary mutation - she's acting as the bruiser of the team in absence of Colossus.

So, how does Grant Morrison conceptualise Hank?

No dark secrets. Nothing to hide. The sweetest guy. The best heart.

These are the architects of modern X-Men, by the way. Morrison and Hickman. This is how they see Hank McCoy, and though they may have many flaws in their writing styles and their stories may fumble certain things, I think that they have an opinion worth noting. Their effect on modern X-Men is undeniable.

So, Emma and Hank meet, and they already have chemistry. They are both incredibly sharp, incredibly brilliant, incredibly witty, incredibly cultured individuals, and though they may (at this time) have very different moral compasses, it's very clear that there's a spark of friendship already, especially when you compare Hank's immediate sympathy to how Jean treats her literally a page later.

Something that's underrated about Morrison's Jean is that she's kind of not very nice a lot of the time, but you understand why. She's going through some shit in this series, and she has a very, very, very valid reason to hate Emma after Dark Phoenix, so her trying to reach out is what she thinks she should do, but calling her a bitch is what she wants to do, really - and Emma doesn't give a fuck. Or at the very least, she's very good at making it look like she doesn't give a fuck.

This is another aspect of why I think Hank and Emma have such good chemistry: they are both masters of control and appearance. They both spend so, so, so much time cultivating a specific image so that they can't be hurt - Hank obfuscates and hides behind big words, big concepts, big gestures, while Emma snarks and affects cool, sniping at anyone who might dare get close.

Like recognises like. I almost think it's a sort of game for them, to perform and poke at one another, knowing that they each know each other's secrets, but with an unspoken agreement that they won't go too far.

Emma jabs and pokes and prods, and Hank shuts her down in three sentences. If there were any malice or anger in this interaction, it wouldn't stop the way it does. There's no lingering animosity between them, there's no heat. It's two theatrical bitches in superhero clothes pretending that their personal lives aren't a mess by being extra bitchy at one another, and I think that they love that.

It's also worth noting that Hank, at this stage, is still an extremely moral presence, an unquestionable good guy (Threnody revisionism notwithstanding, don't at me, I've heard it before), and Emma is very much not. She's still the woman who was part of the Hellfire Club, who worked against the X-Men, who was part of Genosha, Magneto's regime - but Hank doesn't browbeat her with it. It only ever comes up when he's convinced that she's turned on them.

A moment of panic, but Emma doesn't take him to task for it - if anything, I like to think she might have actually been a bit grateful, because it made her plan seem all the more authentic, to have someone screaming that she can't do this. He then immediately apologises, and compliments her. It doesn't come up again. He judges her by her current actions, not by her past, and this is something that's very consistent with Hank, if you look at the wider tapestry of his life, because who else does he judge by his current actions and not his past?

Oh yeah. Hank forgives. Hank understands.

And I always find it interesting how he takes Scott and Emma's affair. He doesn't criticise Emma for it, but he does take Scott to task. Why? Well, it could be Morrison's take on who's responsible for the affair bleeding through, but I think it's more that Hank knows that Emma is still working on herself, still improving her behaviour, still in the process of becoming better, and he's willing to give her the space to do that, but Scott?

Scott, I think Hank believes has less of an excuse. But again, he doesn't make a thing of it until it comes to a boiling point. He warns Scott, and Scott doesn't listen. And when it's all said and done, Hank makes it clear that Scott and Emma's lives may be their own, but he has his own feelings on it, and he's capable of holding multiple emotional viewpoints at once.

Like, this is a lot of leeway and a lot of grace that Hank is affording Emma here, considering she was just as guilty of initiating the affair as Scott was, if not more so - but again. He expects better of Scott. He knows Scott knows right from wrong, and where his obligations lie, and he expects him to be faithful to his wife. Hank knows Emma is flirting, being very sexually open, but he knows that that is partly affectation, partly bait, partly exploration, and partly a fuck you aimed at Jean, who she just plain doesn't like. Harping on at her about it will not make her stop, and will only drive her not to trust Hank. And it becomes increasingly clear, as the series goes on, that Emma does trust and value Hank, quite a lot, actually.

Now, it's not like Emma needs an excuse to be cruel and to make a scene, but that's not really what this is, is it? Look at the order in which she addresses the journalist. She's offended - "I beg your pardon!" - but what at? "This man is a world-renowned scientist!"

She doesn't take offence to the idea that people hate mutants because trouble follows them where they go. She takes offence to her being insulting to Hank specifically. She elevates Hank, and degrades her opponent. This is not something Emma does often, she usually just skips to the degradation! Hank doesn't even expect it! Look at the little lines around his head in the panel with Emma blown up large in the psychic landscape! He was absolutely going to let that comment go by, and not make a thing of it, and Emma chose to make the moment about standing up for him, and he did not expect it.

But he values it, nonetheless. And he puts his paw on her, and thanks her.

Reminder, this is how she reacted to another man putting his hands on her just a few issues before.

Now, granted, we don't see where Logan's hand is, but the man's generally a gentleman, despite his reputation, so I think she just doesn't like to be touched . . . generally. But she doesn't mind it when Hank touches her, and thanks her for standing up for him. Something which she does not do for many people. Reminder, this is how she reacts to Jean having a straight up psychic fit in front of her.

Like, there's a degree to which this is bravado and humour, because Emma is tending to Jean here, but I guarantee you that this is not how she would have acted if Hank had been the one to fall in distress.

And going back to the panels where Logan is helping her up - I don't know if it's just me, but there's something very purposeful in the fact that Emma and Hank are both on the right hand side of the page, with Emma engaging her diamond form so that she doesn't have to feel, denying her own compassion, while Hank stands in shadow, looking mournful, defeated, quietly furious, unable to do anything but feel his compassion.

Perhaps that's something that Emma admires in Hank. The fact that he has no dark secrets, that he does, in at least some ways, wear his heart on his sleeve; that he has no choice but to feel. He is a good man. And it's easy to forget, in a world where cynical media and cynical people surround us, but there is something charismatic and likeable and warm about good people. Even if you might consider them foolish, people who fail to be good often envy those who try, even though they might face insurmountable odds.

Hank's refusal to accept that the world has to be a place of cruelty and disbelief and skepticism and fear has a way of rankling the cynics around him. It's one of my favourite things about him.

It has a way of paying off.

How often does Emma Frost listen to someone again . . ?

And then . . . yeah. We come to the assembly.

"Fuck you, I liked her."

She listened. She laughed. She spoke Byron back to him. Do you ever think about just how often Hank gets that? Fucking never, I bet!! It must just be so refreshing to quote, and for the other person to know.

There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep Sea, and music in its roar: I love not Man the less, but Nature more, From these our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be, or have been before, To mingle with the Universe, and feel What I can ne’er express, yet cannot all conceal.

Of course it's a romantic poet. Of course it's Byron.

And then, the assembly . . . ouuuuuuaghhh . . .

Like, people love for their characters to have feats, right? People love that Storm was the Regent of Arakko, and faced down the Horsemen. People love that Cyclops put the Void in a little box in his mind and told it no. People love that Jean chased down Enigma all the way through space and time and destroyed him. People love it when all the things that epitomise a character come together in a moment that speaks to the truth of them - their strength, their control, their refusal to give up. It's not just about power, it's about what that moment says about their personality, right?

What's Hank's?

It's putting together a 11,100,277 piece puzzle of a human body. Not with textbooks and screens around him, but by memory - and why? He says it's because he always loved jigsaw puzzles as a child, but that's not the real reason, is it? It's because it's important to him that she be complete, that she be afforded respect. It's important to him that someone showed that they cared.

It's because he thinks that there's a chance.

It's hope. It's sheer, bloody minded hope. 11 million pieces. It's insane. And yet. He did it, and it worked, and she was whole again.

Roses and wine and a good book and a baritone rendition of Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice . . . oh, Hank. He even calls himself la bete, the Beast - a codename we know he doesn't really care for all that much, especially in light of his recent mutation - just so that he can affect playfulness and brightness and infectious good mood.

He really cared for her. And she really cared for him.

I seriously miss this dynamic. It was really very beautiful.

And thank you for the welcome back! It's good to be back!

[demonsword586]

if my hcs pissed y'all off sm can u just fucking block me also saying that im advertising paimon as female just bc i HEADCANON him (im emphasizing it for u since y'all can't fucking read) as transfem and used she/her prns bc i said she's a gyaru when y'all could've just blocked and called it a day but no u and ur friends were literally jumping me on my asks and telling me to make my own post abt it but when I did suddenly im making a tantrum and that im weird??? USE UR DAMN BRAIN OMG

I JUST SAID AN OPINION AND U LOSERS TOOK IT SRSLY AND NOW IM THE BAD GUY FOR MAKING POSTS ABT IT???? y'all were literally being weird to me when it's literally been a week since that paimon post can u be srs for one fucking second

"no one is telling u hcing paimon as transfem is wrong" but y'all hate it when i use she/her prns BE FUCKING FR???

God,at this point I don't even see the point of replying to you when all the answers are already said by the others.

The only reason why I haven't blocked you yet is because I still had some small hope you would admmit you were in the wrong but it seems like that won't be the case.

I just don't see any point in trying to argue with a child's mentallity. Please get out,close up your mobile and enjoy some nature.

Also I love the dedication you put in just to piss in my inbox. Did you go through all the accounts who said something mean about you?~ How cute!

Also just to make it clear to your simple-minded self,in any post you make about Paimon you use she/her as if that is their actual prns. But it's not. If someone who has no idea about whb saw your blog,they would think Paimon is female. And ince they play the game,they would be disappointed once they realize it's a guy. That's why people are so careful with what they say on the internet. Because misinformation is made,accidently or not. There are also people who can be sensitive to this kind of topic. You have to be very careful when it comes to sexuallity and sexual topics in general. Many have bad experiences with it and even misgendering can be a trigger.

Seeing from how you don't have any bit of sympathy towards hurting other people with your rude speech,I can only assume you don't have many real friends so you go on the internet and then rage here instead.

I'm done with this topic now. I come here to relax and have fun,not argue with an immature idiot.

[deffnotweird]

Machine Error:

November sixteen twenty-seventy five, the weather in New York was incredibly cold, despite this, Michael had to get a haircut, for in just two days he would be holding a big presentation for his associates in Norway. Michael was a big shot in his company, sales executive at just 23 years old, he loved seeing all the older guys at the company getting frustrated whenever he was assigned a big project. His hazelnut hair was quite long, going over his shoulders, he hated tying them up in a bun when at the office, but he always put his professional appearance over his own comfort. Which is exactly why he decided to cut them, this new project was bigger and far more important than anything else he’d ever worked on, nothing could be out of place. And so, while it pained Michael to lose his beloved locks, he decided that it was the best course of action for his career.

On Saturday he took a cab to a nearby automated barbershop, the mechanical precision was exactly what Michael needed. While the roads were quite busy, that barbershop was completely empty that day, the hair-cutting machines being the only moving thing there, he was greeted by a robotic voice: “Welcome, please take a seat at station number two”, Michael thought it was odd that he wasn’t directed to station one, after all nobody else was there, but he didn’t pay it much mind. After sitting another automated voice asked him to select a cut on the screen standing in front of him, the screen was pretty old, twenty-sixty nine model at least, probably even older. He looked at himself in the mirror, picturing something that would look good on him, in the end he decided to go for a classic business cut, short on top, shorter on the sides, searching through the catalogue on the screen he found the exact style he wanted, Mike tried to select it a few times but it seemed to have severe input lag, for a moment he thought “wow, I chose a really shitty place for my haircut, the reviews seemed high enough, must’ve been boosted by bots, fucking shameless”. Despite his discontent he hanged back and prepared himself for his cut: “People who run businesses like these should be in prison”. The machine picked up on his words, “activating prisoner mode”, suddenly a metal collar wrapped itself around the neck of the businessman, “woah woah, what the fuck, stop this!” he said as he tried to pry open the collar with his hands, this proved to be futile however, as the chair just sent out a shock through the collar, hurting the man “FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK?!”, another robot voice scolded him “Please, refrain from struggling and stand still.” Michael was beyond pissed off, but he didn’t have much choice, he hanged back and waited for the machine to finish working on him. While the man expected the cut to be mediocre, it actually turned out pretty well, nevertheless his anger hadn’t diminished “My old man is a lawyer, this place is getting shut down you can bet on it!” the machine once more picked up on his words “you have chosen the ‘old man cut’”, Michael had fucked up, he saw the clippers getting close and tried to once more pry open the collar that prevented him to move, this time however the shock was much greater.

The “prisoner mode” was used by jails and prisons who didn’t have a dedicated room for haircuts, while almost none of the prisons met this criteria, the function was still added to the “Trim-m3”. As was the norm with convict treatments all around the world, the punishment for continued misconduct was severe, therefore inmates getting a haircut would be rendered unconscious in case they didn’t behave, such a function was actually debated to be inhumane by many activists, but court ruled in favor of it and so it ended up in almost every hair-cutting machine made from twenty-fifty six onwards.

While the unfortunate man was knocked out cold, the machine worked swiftly and efficiently on his head, firstly the clippers ran through the hair at the top of his head, turning it into a really short stubble, afterwards, shaving cream was lathered over the stubbles and and a straight razor was used to clean it all up. In the end “Hair-no” gel, a miraculous invention made by and for bald-by-choice people (but mostly used by models to get rid of body hairs permanently), was put on the freshly shaven scalp, after making it sit there for three minutes, the hardened gel was ripped off, removing any follicle with a one-hundred precent accuracy and making it so nothing could grow there ever again. After a few minutes, Michael woke up on the chair, the collar had retreated and he could once again stand up, only that wasn’t the first thing he noticed, waking up Michael saw the mirror in front of him, showing off his freshly shaven scalp and his stylish male-pattern-baldness cut. Michael had no words, he sat there staring at the mirror in disbelief, rubbing his scalp as the machine repeated “your cut is done and we hope you’re satisfied, please stand up and head over to the entrance for payment.” the man wanted to get out without paying, but he thought it better to just head home and immediately book an hair transplant appointment, before his big presentation on Monday.

In the cab home he looked at the floor of the car, while he kept feeling the baldness of his head, finally letting out a meek “what the fuck…”. At home he called 7 transplant clinics, but none of them were available for Sunday, with the earliest one being available four months from then. He thought of shaving it all off, but before he did, he searched up the shop once more, it turned out the shop was using quite outdated hardware, with the controlling AI model being notoriously buggy and a pain to deal with. Michael was tired, but before he went to sleep he ordered some Clippers, shaving cream and Razors on Amazon, since they would arrive tomorrow he still had the chance to look presentable with a full bald head instead of the male pattern baldness cut he was currently rocking.

Sunday came and went, and it was time for his big presentation, the items he ordered however had never arrived, an error in the drones' softwares caused several delayed packages, inclduing his. He chose instead to just wear an old hat, hoping nobody would ask him to take it off. He sat down in the meeting room, central seat, the one he was so excited to be sitting on just a few days ago had become his most dreaded moment, his boss asked him what was the deal with the hat, in truth everyone in that room was quite curious about Mike’s sudden change in behavior, that wasn’t the long haired hot-shot they were used to, but a meek guy almost trembling in his chair. Some thought he was sick while others figured he was having performance anxiety, he tried dodging their questions multiple times, but in the end was cordially asked to remove it by his boss to remove it. As the hat came off everyone stood in silence, dumbfounded about this odd choice of hair, what was he thinking after all? Friday he’s got a ponytail and Monday he’s balding? The silence remained until the presentation was about to start, Michael was worrying intensely about what will happen in just a few minutes and sweating profusely at everything that just happened. But just a few second before the presentation he took a deep breath and regained his confidence. The presentation went smoothly, the Norwegians were a bit surprised to see a balding man speaking as they were expecting a young twenty-three years old guy, nevertheless they didn’t make a comment about it.

Months passed, and Michael was still receiving all the best projects, his deal with the Norwegians went through and was a huge success, despite this, his hairstyle had not changed, the older executives would call him “Old Man Mike”, and had taken a liking to him, bringing him out for drinks and mocking his odd hairstyle, all of them had a full head of hair despite being much older than him after all, the businessman didn’t mind, he thought that perhaps this look was just what he’d always needed, and to think he got it just because a machine couldn’t do his job properly! Soon he became really intimate with another executive, Ethan, he was a really sweet guy and had really taken a liking to Mike after what everyone called “The Norwegian Cut Incident”, being the first to offer to have a drink with him after work. For the older guy’s birthday Michael took him to a place that after everything that happened ended up being really special to him. “Welcome, please take a seat at station number two”.