#also fucking furious that childe turned out good in this

[sauce-cat]

something something jock and book nerd

no i won't elaborate

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !

Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.

Moths Hit the Window

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment. 

Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.

If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze. 

 König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others. 

“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!” 

“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect. 

“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up. 

Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.

No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.

“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.

König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child. 

This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru. 

“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”

The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes. 

“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”

Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest. 

“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!” 

“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”

“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away. 

“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!”  König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”

You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture. 

He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.

Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you,  König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”

It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you. 

But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt. 

You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.

König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”

You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.

Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”

“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”

“Great!”

“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny. 

“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone. 

Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge. 

“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”

“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.” 

“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”

Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.

“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”

“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction. 

König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”

“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl. 

In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.

Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.

But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.

The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.

“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.

König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance. 

Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”

“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”

König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.

“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.” 

Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.

Too far.

Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.

You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.

“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.

Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.

Shame that it’s already too late.

Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”

His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.

“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!” 

By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience. 

—

Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.

Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done. 

The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling. 

Evolve, or die. 

“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”

Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later. 

“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.

“Three minutes.”

“...get to it then. We move in five.” 

So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants. 

“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA. 

The Lieutenant is one of them. 

Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead. 

“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t. 

But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact. 

Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself. 

The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins. 

Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.  

You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was. 

Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding. 

Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed. 

Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes. 

Closer now.

Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide. 

Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady. 

The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire. 

Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock. 

Your finger slams into the trigger. 

—

You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.

Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself. 

Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König. 

You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary. 

In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt. 

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing. 

Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch. 

It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later. 

You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure. 

There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.

“You are late.” König. 

He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone. 

Anyone but you, that is. 

König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter. 

You watch and say nothing—dead-faced. 

Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.

“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down. 

Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm. 

“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?” 

Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment. 

The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour. 

“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”

“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you. 

Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”

In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence. 

Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up. 

It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh. 

He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest. 

“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.” 

The needle pauses and a swift nod is given. 

“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.

“Pissed off?” You offer quietly. 

“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”

Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.

“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”

“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.” 

“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?” 

“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”

 König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.

“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?” 

He freezes, muscles going taunt. 

“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?” 

Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away. 

König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate. 

“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”

“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”

“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit. 

“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over. 

There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side. 

And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air. 

König kneeled to you and bared himself. 

Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this. 

There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood. 

Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.

The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug. 

König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning. 

But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.

You were reckless.

Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he. 

A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame. 

“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears. 

König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him. 

“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat. 

Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English. 

Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril. 

You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust. 

You find none. 

“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”

A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening. 

He speaks with a whispered confession.

“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words. 

Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize. 

He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized. 

For you to come back to him. His partner. 

You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.

König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.

The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths. 

This time, you’re the one to gasp.

“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”

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[futurepastme]

SecretConsort!merlin

I had this fic idea before falling asleep, I don't know if anything like this already exists (probably). Be warned that I didn't revise this once.

First of all Arthur and Merlin absolutely love each other, but they start off as friends with benefits. Until one day Arthur can't handle anymore

“Say you're mine. Say you'll be mine and no one else's”

“I'll be yours as long as you're also mine”

And yeah, they go exclusive after that (they already were but now was official) and give them a few months or years, but eventually Merlin becomes Arthur's secret consort and they are officially official, mother's sigil and all, because like I said, they Love each other.

Anyways, eventually Uther finds out they are together and he gets tomato-red furious, and only calms down when Arthur agrees to marry for political reasons, whomever Uther chooses for him.

The thing is, Uther kind of learns to like them as a couple, not that they go all out and about telling the world, because is still supposed to be a secret, but Uther sees the sweet glances and the smiles, and most of all he sees how willingly they are to die for each other and it just sits right with him. Uther thinks Merlin makes a good consort for his son and is in no hurry to marry him off anymore.

But of course, nothing really stays the same, and the day comes where the only way Uther finds to keep peace with another kingdom is to marry Arrhur off to some other king's daughter, and he hates it because he knows and he approves of his relationship with the skinny boy that makes his son so happy.

And then comes the heartbreaking scene of Arthur telling Merlin the news and the even more heartbreaking scene before Arthur's wedding day

“I won't be able to be only yours anymore”

“Maybe not, but I'll always be yours”

And they cry through the night holding each other tightly as if the world were to end, because it just might.

And the next day, Uther can freaking see it 

They are both behaving, no one is causing a scene but from up close you can notice how bloodshot their eyes are. And he can see it in the way they refuse to make eye contact, he can see it as he sees Merlin silently crying as Arthur shows the crowd their future queen.

And Uther hates it.

And is not like the new princess is a horrible person but she just doesn't like Merlin, she doesn't want to share her husband. She makes Merlin leave Arthur's Chambers and forbids him to follow Arthur all day unnecessarily, but she knows she can't win.

Not when the King himself gives Merlin royal chambers on the same floor as theirs, and especially not when Arthur doesn't spend the night on his.

Arthur has duties, though. Husband duties. And he has to fulfill them and it kills Merlin.

And Uther can just watch helplessly as Merlin's gaze follows Arthur and his wife and he stays behind as the servant he is supposed to be and is so unfair because she doesn't even love Arthur 

And they keep growing apart but keep fighting for each other because they are fucking made to be together so they still try even if the best they can do for days is hold each other for a few minutes just breathing each other in because that's home and that's where they are meant to be

It continues for a while until one day comes where Arthur goes out without Merlin

And at the same time while he is away, his wife finds herself with child, and everyone's so happy and Merlin just has to leave for a while because he can't handle it

But again, things never go as planned and the knights return with Arthur's body, because something went wrong 

And you can honestly choose what it was, a curse, a spell, bandits, a boar, a mercenary, it doesn't matter because Arthur is dead now and Merlin wasn't there to save him

And now Uther has to deal not only with the death of his only son, and with his widow wife with child but he'll be the one to tell his consort and is so devastating 

Merlin's face turns from sad to haunting and it's like the world ended and Uther can see himself in him, he can see the death of his love weighting on Merlin the way it weighed on him, if not worse

Arthur's body stays inside the castle for two days before the burial so the people of the castle can say their goodbyes and no one has seen Merlin, they are not even sure he went to see Arthur 

And everyone is concerned about the poor widow all dressed in black, she is sad, sure, but the tears rolling from her eyes are just for show, Arthur was barely a friend, but he was good to her

Arthur's body is being prepared for removal, overseen by his family and close friends before the public ceremony took place, and that's when it happens 

Merlin just barges in and stops everything. 

He's spent two days working in it, and he just doesn't care anymore, as long as it works

And Uther once again just watches as this skinny boy fills the room with golden light, and he can't even care to do anything because honestly he would do everything for his love if he could 

And everyone watches as the light coming from Merlin starts being absorbed by Arthur through his chest and is so beautiful to watch

Arthur starts to sit up as Merlin lowers down and they just have a moment, a small second where they are both there and Merlin just rests his head against Arthur's 

“I would do it again. I would do it as many times as needed because I love you and you are my everything”

“Merlin?”

And then the light is gone, and so is Merlin 

And Uther watched as his widowed son holds his lover's body, just like he did over twenty years ago

[batfam-my-beloved]

AU where Batman has a "no killing" rule but that only applies to Batman

Bruce understands that people have their own form of morality and justice. He's not going to fault a soldier for doing what they have to do to protect people. It's just that he personally would probably never go that far. Not that he can't, mind you, he's fucking Batman! Just that the mental and emotional toll would fuck him up so bad he'd be a danger to himself and society.

So when it comes to his murder happy children his rule for them is: "Wait until you're 18."

Bruce: "Dickie, I know Tony Zucco killed your parents and he deserves WAY worse than a punctured lung, two broken legs, a fractured skull, and a dislocated shoulder. But you're also 10 yrs old and the parenting books say that murder at such a young age is not good for a child's emotional development. So how bout we keep him locked up in jail, good and tight, and if you're still mad about it when you turn 18 then you can have at it. Sound good chum?"

Dick, pouting and kicking rocks: "I guess."

Tim "forever 17" Drake is just counting down the days until his 18th birthday because that mother fucker has a list. He doesn't mind waiting because he god damn knows there are worse things than death one can do to someone.

Damien has been killing since he could walk and hold up a sword, so when he comes to live with his father under the "no killing until 18" rule he is NOT happy about it. Until his brothers start poking fun at him.

Damien, pouting: "It isn't fair! Todd gets to go out and kill people!"

Bruce: "Jason is over 18 yrs."

Jason: "Yeah! And besides, its not my fault you're just uncreative in how you beat up bad guys!"

Damien: "What is that supposed to mean!"

Tim: "It means that there are worse things than death but you're just too dumb to know it."

Damien, furious: "Am not!"

Jason and Tim, teasing: "Are too!"

Damien: "AM NOT!"

Jason and Tim: "Are tooooo!"

Dick, tired: "Guys, stop making fun of him. He's just gunna take it as a challenge."

Damien, determined: "Well I accept this challenge! I'll provide my superiority as a vigilantly by taking out the enemy in non-lethal yet appropriately brutal ways of punishment! Just you watch!"

Bruce, weary yet appeased: "Well at least he's not gunna attempt murder for a while."

Jason didn't come with an automatic kill switch so Bruce didn't really have to worry about it. But then Jason died and Dick got to see first hand as to why Bruce had a no killing rule for himself. The insurmountable destruction, the overall apathy for the harm to others around him, the deep seated rage ready to just destroy everything he comes in contact with. Alfred tells Dick that they need to stop him because Bruce won't just stop at the Joker, he'll go after Jason's mother (in this au I'm making Sheila live for the extra angst factor)and whoever else he deems even remotely responsible for the death of his son. Bruce won't care if it starts wars and conflict across nations, he will NOT stop until he gets his revenge.

So they stop him, practically have to sedated Bruce with enough tranquilizers to put down an elephant 10x over. And then they lock the Joker up in the deepest underground pits of Arkham with a broken spine and enough security measures that it's very much impossible to brake him out least you're the Batman himself. Bruce isn't happy about it at first but Alfred and Dick are there with him through it all and it helps a lot.

When Jason comes back he still doesn't know about the "no killing until your 18" rule, nor does he know the reason WHY Batman doesn't kill. So he's still angry and does his whole thing as Red Hood but when he reveals himself to Batman as Jason Todd Bruce is just so happy to see him again. And Jason is confused cuz like: "I just killed a bunch of people, aren't you disappointed?"

And Bruce is like: "I am a bit mad that you hurt Tim but other than that you are technically over 18 yrs old now so I'm going to assume you understand the weight and responsibility that is put upon you when killing someone."

Jason, softly: "What...the fuck?"

Then Jason quickly snaps back into gear with his plan, demands Bruce to choose between killing the Joker or him and Bruce hits back with: "Oh, I'd like nothing more than to kill Joker but I promised Dick and Alfred I wouldn't after almost starting an international war that one time."

Jason, extremely frustrated that his plan isn't going how he wanted to: "What. The. Fuck!"

So Jason dips and tracks down Dick so he could explain what the hell was going on. And Dick does explain. He explains the absolute monster Bruce almost turned into when Jason was murdered and how Bruce would most definitely not stop at the Joker if given the chance.

Dick: "You don't understand Jay, it was bad! Like really, really bad! He was going to kill your mom!"

Jason, shocked: "The fuck?!"

Dick: "He still has her on a tracker! We found him just before he killed Joker, but he still managed to paralyze him from the neck down!"

Jason, slightly disturbed: "That was him!"

Dick: "He was beating Joker's ass with a crowbar! And even after we managed to sedated Bruce and pull him off the clown we still had to make sure that Joker was locked up good and tight underground because if Bruce even caught a glimpse of him in a photo he'd go into another spiral!"

Jason, horrified: "What....the fuuuuuck???"

[weebsinstash]

I know you mentioned that you aren't a big fan of pregnancy AU stuff in Hazbin, but hear me out...

Imagine Yandere Valentino getting his Darling pregnant to have a living bargaining chip to make sure she doesn't even try to leave him

New idea. What if the only people who can procreate in Hell are red string soulmates, or, it's like akin to ABO in the sense that not everyone or every combo of people could create a baby.

I was thinking about a yandere Valentino who has Reader as his red string soulmate whatever and you run away after seeing how truly abusive he is to other people, worrying for your own safety, and you're missing for like a straight year before Valentino finds out where you are, and... he's all but KICKING DOWN the door of your apartment, and he's looking at you like a hungry predator ready to pounce on you, cornering you, and

a baby starts crying from the other room and you're SPRINTING to the noise and Valentino finds you defensively holding a little bundle to your chest, growling snarling baring fangs holding a knife whatever at him, and Valentino thinks you adopted some other man's kid, some little imp bastard or something, and he's furious, he's raising his voice, he's getting closer, he's-

making perfect eye contact with a little tiny baby replica of himself as it turns to look at him with its big red eyes and chubby cheeks and fat arms and. It takes Val a few seconds to process it. The baby looks right at him and is whimpering and gurgling, upset, but doesn't cry. The baby boy sneezes and his antenna flip back and forth. He's got lil hearts in his fur and his teeny antenna are already so fluffy.

'Oh but aren't baby moths technically caterpillars--' shut the fuck up, you're demons and also that would be ugly as fuck. You want to give birth to a 20 armed baby or something. No. We save the truly inhuman babies for the human x monster/alien/whatever prompts. Your baby comes out a mini mothperson and it's fluffy and chubby and fucking adorable and also shut up

Val is just, SMITTEN, the narcissism is turned up to 100, he's rapid cycling emotions, "*GASPING* OUR BABY IS SO FUCKING CUTE, WHAT THE FUCK, I WANT TO HOLD HIM" "So I knocked you up good huh 😏" "*already on the phone in a group call with the other Vees and taking 200 pictures* you should see this thing, he looks just like me, can you even believe that, I can already tell he's gonna be so handsome and successful cuz he's MY son" "aw, amorcito did you think you needed to run away to protect our baby because I have so many enemies? You're such a good mama ❤️❤️❤️"

You spend like MONTHS lovingly protecting and sheltering your child until he's a healthy giggling little chubroll and Val has him for like two days and suddenly your baby has his ears pierced with diamonds in them and Valentino is walking around in his high heels and slutty bodysuits with your son in a papoose cuddled into his chest fur. You're holding your sleeping son while Val is beside you and someone sneezes across the room and the baby stirs and here's Valentino, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, MY SON IS SLEEPING", like, NOT ANYMORE YOU DUMB JACKASS???

'Oh gee why is Valentino suddenly funding and producing more erotic films involving moms and breeding and pregnant people and lactation-' you fucking know why and honestly I think it'd be SO FUNNY if he's like, "oh yeah, don't worry, I want you on birth control too mami. I missed fucking you and I kinda wanna do a lot of that without worrying about another little niño or two. At least not for a while :)"

Valentino on the red carpet being his cunty fashionable self while his baby is in a sling and they're both wearing matching outfits. Your baby boy has a tiny iced-up watch that's worth more than the entire building you were living in before his father found you. Your "husband" is posing half-naked with your baby on the cover of Demon Playboy which he owns, "HELL'S HOTTEST NEW DILF" like I COULD NOT WITH THIS MAN

And obviously he's got new kinks now that you're a mom and he absolutely fucks the hell out of you to the point you would get pregnant again without the birth control 😳 valentino on some real "is this the milk you've been feeding my baby with, let me try some" type stuff where he's milking you dry during his bang sesh and your son has to have formula that night because your tank is EMPTY 💀 YOU'RE A RAISIN LIKE THAT SCENE FROM SCOOBY DOO ZOMBIE ISLAND--

God. I've read horror stories about women getting pregnant again even WHILE being on multiple types of birth control so, then you get knocked up again Because Of Course You Would, You're Taking More Creampies Than A Professional Rodeo Clown, and what does Valentino say? "Fuck it, I wanna keep it! I can't just MURK my baby after it beat the odds, that's so ME!" And now you're having twin girls 💀💀💀 who knows, maybe having some daughters would teach Valentino to actually respect women--

I feel like you would wake up one morning and be genuinely hysterical because your baby is missing and you can't get in contact with Valentino and you're freaking out at the absolute highest level and it turned out to be some dumb shit like Val just took your son along with him for THE ENTIRE DAY and didn't think of mentioning it to you because "but you were needing a break and we were bonding, mami. We were having our guy time. I was leaving for work and he looked at me and he SMILED AT ME. What the fuck was i supposed to do, I couldn't just LEAVE HIM, he wanted his papi"

Of course, all these ideas hinge on the concept of Valentino actually caring for his baby. He could still genuinely use it as a tool against you. You're out running errands and suddenly you're getting a call. It's Valentino. He wants you to come home; you left the baby with Kitty so you could go out for a little while for some 'you time' since you've been trapped at home hiding ever since you ran from him before learning you were pregnant. It's not even about you leaving the baby with a nanny; it's about you not being home when Valentino came to visit you and him being uncomfortable not knowing exactly where you are and exactly what you're doing

Well, you got a little smart with him. You've just spent the last about 11 months living through hell with your pregnancy and hiding; you deserve to get some fresh air and walk out on the town and--- in the middle of you lecturing him you can just hear your baby making baby noises through the phone and Valentino just adopts this... tone in his voice, "amorcito, I came to spend time with you and our little frijolito and you're not heeee~ere. You know I can have trouble concentrating when I've had a few drinks and, earlier i dropped my phone on accident and i thought 'oh, it's good i wasn't holding something important"

You're home within 20 minutes and Valentino is cuddling into you while he puts some garbage on TV and pretends not to notice how you're trembling as you hold your son and send the occasional wary glance his father's way...

[bonefall]

What did Sagewhisker do? All I remember was that she was Yellowfang's mentor, and I used to love YS. (I was a lot younger at the time, though.)

oH Lord, a lot of people who read YS when they were younger kinda don't pick up on how shitty Sagewhisker is. It goes over their heads that she is the one who's actually responsible for Yellowfang being forced to be distant from Brokenkit

From a young age, Sagewhisker is pressuring Yellowpaw to be a medcat, when she doesn't want to

Yellow LIKES the satisfaction of healing itself, but LOVES being a warrior more.

She's a fantastic hunter, has always wanted a family, and is just genuinely filled with a lot of self-satisfaction when she gets to do her warrior duties.

(They also had to retcon the stupidest magic power, super-empathy, into Yellowfang so that she nonsensically wouldn't like fighting. Yellowfang. The cat whose first appearance in TPB is attacking Firepaw and didn't hesitate to blind Brokenstar. THAT Yellowfang.)

In contrast, when she starts healing, she's constantly filled with shame or horror. She also gets bullied viciously by several cats, while others do that Thing that an older family member does when they don't like what you're doing. You know;

"Ohhh that's so good, for you. If it makes you happy it's good!! I mean, but, wouldn't you rather do Other Thing? I mean no, I understand, you like This thing, but Other thing would... no no it's okay, nevermind. I'm happy for you."

This while she's already courting Raggedpelt, and planning a future with him.

So to begin with, she has a lot of negative feelings when Sagewhisker tries to pressure her into this role, especially as Sage insists she "Wants HER" and "It's your destiny." But that's not all;

When Cloudpaw (later Cloudpelt) gets viciously mauled and might not survive, Sagewhisker takes one look and says, "It might be kinder to let StarClan take him now."

Yellowfang is FURIOUS at how quickly Sagewhisker gave up, and Sage just waves this away with "oh I won't stop you but be prepared for heartbreak lol"

Sage continues to tell her shit like "You can't save every cat" after Cloudpaw's mother sees her son all cheese-grated up.

So... either Sagewhisker was going to just leave Cloudpaw there to bleed out or die of infection, OR she was implying euthanasia.

And it's probably euthanasia, because when Yellowfang is pregnant later, she says,

Sooooo... considering how WEIRD WC generally is about abortion, acting like it's not even an option and giving Clear Sky some Angel Fetus Children in DOTC...

Sagewhisker was probably implying that Yellowfang would smother infants. Or do whatever Sagewhisker was planning to do with Cloudpaw.

I don't even know if pressuring Yellowfang into an abortion would have been better... honestly this exchange is uncomfortable no matter how you slice it.

It gets worse ofc. Yellowfang gets this warning from StarClan about how “Only one thing can stop the tide of hatred this birth cursed cat will bring: the courage of a mother to know her destiny.” Silverflame also suggests just being his friend, if she can't be his mother.

Forget that though, because Sagewhisker continues to snap at Yellowfang and remind her that she can't look at him for too long, else people will get suspicious or something.

"It's a woman's responsibility to have children for our glorious war society, Yellowfang, unless they have A RARE GIFT THAT MUST NOT BE WASTED."

In the same conversation she's then like, "Also don't go into the nursery, the child I forced you to give up needs a chance to bond with the abusive foster who hates his little guts."

In general Sagewhisker also prevents Yellowfang from standing up for herself or her position in a way that is absolutely infuriating. Foxheart comes in and starts bellowing about "HOW DARE YOU HAVE APPRENTICES RUN ERRANDS FOR YOU?" and Sage is just like, "Turn the other cheek uwu"

Yellowfang is punished constantly for the sin of being Yellowfang. She is not allowed to be snarky at all. It fucking sucks. This book is MISERABLE

SO basically, Sagewhisker forces her into a role she isn't very happy in, stops her from standing up for herself ever, guilts Yellowfang over "wasting her special gift," gives up on cases that are too hard for her, suggests killing kits, says some wildly misogynistic stuff, prevents Yellowfang from doing anything about Brokenkit, and then dies.

She's the worst and no one ever talks about how fucked up this character is. and I really mean AS A CHARACTER

Because her PURPOSE in the story is to do all of these things and be hailed as a good mentor in the end. But the fandom is REALLY bad at analyzing characters as narrative tools.

She's right to pressure Yellowfang into her role, with the ending comic even trying to have Sagewhisker apologize for pressuring her and Yellow going "d'aww dwai you didn't force me into anything 8) ignore the entire fucking book before this point"

Giving up on a battered teenager is supposed to show Yellowfang's talent and resolve, not reflect poorly on Sagewhisker.

WC fully believes that "wisdom" she espouses about Lizardfang. Lizardfang is a bad woman because she doesn't accept her place as a queen. This kind of guilt and blame is reserved exclusively for mothers in WC, not fathers, note how Mudclaw doesn't help at all but no one gives a shit.

Killing the baby would have been the best option because, again, Brokenkit is BORN. EVIL.

I'm pretty convinced that "Courage of a mother to KNOW HER DESTINY" refers to the fact she is supposed to be a medcat, who kills her child. What FINALLY ends Brokenstar's reign of terror is being poisoned-- not the kindness she was finally able to show him in TPB while he was prisoner.

So Sagewhisker guilt-tripping Yellowfang into a position she doesn't like, keeping her away from her child, suggesting murdering the baby... that's all good, actually. That's something that is framed as correct.

And I think people really sleep on it. Sagewhisker is like this perfect little encapsulation of how shitty clan culture is in WC, an enforcer of the series' misogyny while being a woman herself, someone who makes Yellowfang's wife HELL.

But because she didn't do it violently, no one notices it.

[mrsparrasblog]

STRIPCLUB GHOST

I think he wouldn't go to a Stripclub in the Canon but my brain was working again lel. You can find more on my A03: Mrsparras

Moving to England to study abroad has always been your biggest dream since you were a child, so when you graduated and were old enough, you did it. You blessed Erasmus that you wouldn't have so much debt—well, at least you thought so, but in the end, you couldn't make ends meet.

So you decided to search for a job that you could do while studying that also fit with your busy schedule, so you started to work in a strip club in Soho under the promise that you would only be a waitress and nothing more.

You stood behind the bar counter wearing the skimpiest clothes you had and prepared drinks, and to your surprise, it was fun. Even watching the stripper from far away gave you straight-up BI panic; they were also beautiful and mature.

Surprisingly, you even got a lot of tips despite not dancing half-naked around the pole. The customers all called you Angel; being the youngest and most unattainable had its perks.

One day there was a new customer who wore a Ghost mask and was a brick house of a man. He was nice to you despite looking scary.

"Come on, Bunny, tell me why you are doing this," he asked while you served him a glass of his favorite Bourbon. He was nice, always left you a good tip, and was generous. So you didn't feel the urge to lie to him; why should you?

"I need to pay bills; food and rent are expensive in Manchester."

"I see," he said, leaving this time a 60-pound tip on his 18-pound Bourbon.

"Sir, it's too much."

"It isn't Bunny; buy yourself something nice with it, okay?"

And you did buy yourself a proper meal after a long time of only eating pasta with pesto, and it was delicious.

The next day, when you went to work, you got an offer from your boss: 500 pounds for a private striptease, 120 pounds more if it turns into a lapdance. You never wanted to do this; you couldn't dance, and you were insecure about your body. But it was easy money, and you could always bottom out if it was too much for you.

"The man left this costume for you behind." Your bodyguard gave you a bunny costume with bunny ears, white soft lingerie, and a bunny tail. Oh god, what a freak. Problem No. 2: It was at least 2 sizes too small, making your tits almost fall out.

You were curious to find out who specifically requested you, and when you walked into the private room, you saw Ghost. You were smiling; you knew you could trust him, and you would lie if you said you didn't develop a crush on him the last few weeks when he slowly became your regular.

"Ghost"

"Bunny"

"So, um, do you want me to dance?"

"I want you to be comfortable, but yes, I would love watching you dance."

So you began to dance awkwardly at first, but then you enjoyed it, dancing around provocatively, shaking your ass a bit in his reaction, and he enjoyed it. The half-hour stopped, and you were a bit sad.

"It was fun, Ghost."

"It was Bunny."

You thought it would be the last time you did this, but when your bodyguard told you Ghost requested you for the rest of the week, every day your vagina made this weird butterfly-clenching thing. You would dance for him every day.

So you began to dance with him every day, even being bolder and giving him a lap dance. You touched his strong abs while circling your hips around him. You were afraid that the fabric wasn't thick enough to hide your throbbing cunt.

"Love, please don't move," he whimpered.

You looked at him in confusion and asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Bunny, no, just don't move."

You felt his massive erection under you, and you grinded against him again. "Do you mean because of this?"

"Stop it. I don't want to use your poverty for my gain."

"Did you call me a prostitute?" You asked him, feeling completely furious, and you would have fucked him even despite the money.

"No Bunny I'm just saying you're too good for me, okay? Im a dirty man; men like me aren't made for little sweet girls like you," he said before leaving you in utter confusion, horny, and alone.

You didn't think he would return the next day, but he did, and you refused his cash this time before going to the private suite with him.

"Why do you refuse my money? You need it, and I have enough of it."

"I don't want you to see me as a prostitute."

"I could never see you as less than an angel."

This time you didn't strip for him; you just sat on his lap and talked. He told you that he works as a police officer, even though you thought this was a lie, and you told him all about your native country, how you moved here, and how you loved it.

"All I'm saying is I don't think sex is good enough to pay for it," you claimed while laughing. The erection pressing against your thighs was something you already got used to.

"Then you were with the wrong men before Bunny; sex is great."

"It's okay"

He laughed, "You never had an orgasm before ?" his fingers trailed down on the thin fabric of your pants.

You blushed immediately and shook your head, grinding against his fingers for the smallest friction.

"That explains why you are so desperate, Bunny," he chuckled and left.

The next day, one day before your day off, you went to work again, instinctively walking to the private room where he already sat, this time shirtless. He was the picture of a perfect man with strong abs, and a blonde happy trail down to his thick erection that was only covered by his briefs.

"Sit down and give me a lapdance, please, Bunny."

You sat down on him, but this time he grinded against you, not you against him. You would love that sudden change, but you were a bit mad that he left you yesterday after calling you desperate.

"Tell me you want me, and I'm all yours."

"I don't want you," you lied to him.

"I think you want this, bunny. Don't lie to yourself." He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I can see it in your eyes. You want me to fuck you hard and make you scream."

"No"

"Yes, you do," he insists, pulling down your costume to expose your bare ass. His hand traces the crack in your ass before dipping between your cheeks, pressing against your entrance. "Admit it, bunny. You want me inside you."

"No, I don't want you," but your body betrayed your stubborn act. You were soaking wet and a moaning mess for him. He was so hot and big, and all you wanted was to let him take care of you. Let him show you what a real man is.

"Lie to me again, and I'll make sure you regret it." His fingers begin to probe, seeking entry into your tight little hole. "Tell me, bunny. Have you ever been taken like this before? Fucked raw by a real man." He laughed at you, his voice sounding mean and dominant to his usual nice behavior. Maybe he had a stressful day, but did you care about what made you so lucky today?

"Good," he growls, finally pushing past your resistance and forcing his middle finger inside you. "Because I'm going to make sure you scream for me." His other hand moves up to grope one of your breasts through the costume, pinching the nipple hard.

"Oh fuck, Ghost."

"That's it, bunny. Let me hear you," he demands, adding a second finger to stretch you wider. His thumb rubs over your hardened nipple as his fingers thrust deeper, searching for that sweet spot inside you. "You like that?"

"No," you moaned.

"Lie to me again, and I'll gag you," he warns, pulling his fingers free with a wet pop. "Now tell me the truth." He grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "Do you want my cock inside you?"

You were thinking of lying again only so that he could gag you, but you needed him right now more than you needed anything in your life before. "Yes"

"Good girl," he praises, lowering his mouth to capture one of your nipples in a hot, sucking kiss. His other hand slides down between your legs, rubbing against your pleading clit.

"You've never felt anything like this, bunny?" He purrs against your skin, "You just want me to shove my cock inside you and claim you as mine, don't you?" He already knew the answer, and he was determined to give you your real first orgasm.

"I never felt like this before, Ghost."

"That's right," he agrees, standing up and pushing your legs apart. His hot breath is fanning across your wet folds as he stares down at his prize. "You're going to feel even better when I'm buried balls deep inside you."

Your pussy clenched and throbbed, and now he saw the evidence of your lust.

"You see, bunny," he says with a chuckle, "your body knows what it wants." His thick cock is at your entrance now, slowly pushing inside. The head teased the tight ring of muscles before finally breaking through with a small groan from both of them.

"Oh god, it's too big." It was bigger than the dildo that you had at home, but you liked the burn and to be filled.

"That's because you've never had a real man inside you before," he growls, starting to thrust deeper. Each movement hits your sweet spot and makes your insides clench around him. "You like that, don't you? Feeling my cock stretching you out?"

"Ghost, im going to cum," you whined as he started to stroke your hard nub while he fucked you restlessly.

"Good," he says, picking up the pace. His hips slam against yours as he takes you hard and fast. The chair creaked under their combined weight. "You're mine now, bunny," he pants out between moans. "Say it."

"Im yours, Ghost," you moaned. He continued the abuse on your pleading clit, leaving soft hits on it before starting to circle it again how you liked it. He read you like a novel that needs to be analyzed. He tried to interpret every movement of yours and intesed his flicks against your clit until you finally came, screaming and crying. Your head fell against his neck, and you bit it like a feral animal. Fuck you thought what has gotten into you.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, he leaned down to kiss you roughly. His free hand squeezes one of your breasts as his cock continues to pound into you. "This is how a real man fucks." Simon picks up the pace even more, grinding against you as his hips smack against your perfect ass.

The head of his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, again and again, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Fuck,"

"Ghost, please." You started to whimper, being completely cock drunk.

"Please, what, bunny?" he asks between moans. His thrusts become even more erratic as he loses control. "Do you want me to cum inside you?" he asked while his eyes turned darker at the thought of claiming you as his, his little innocent bunny.

"Yes"

"Yes, bunny?" he asks teasingly. His free hand left your breast to snake down between your legs, teasing at your clit. His cock is throbbing inside you as he takes you harder than ever before.

"Yes, yes, please." You started to beg, and you felt a bit pathetic.

"Yes, what, bunny?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.

"Cum inside of me, Ghost."

"You want me to cum inside you, bunny?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His thrusts become even more erratic as he nears his climax. "Tell me how much you want it."

"So much, Ghost," you whined.

"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his voice laced with need. His cock is throbbing inside you as he reaches his peak, filling you with his hot cum. "Say it, bunny." You were in orgasmic bliss, clenching around him as he erupted inside of your willing womb. You took everything of his big cock and cum so eagerly, almost greedy, afraid someone would steal it from you. I'm yours."

"Tomorrow at 8 p.m., I will pick you up; we are getting dinner."

You looked at him confused, and he only chuckled, "Did you think I fucked my perfect girl and let you leave then? No, we are going out; well, only if you want to go on a date with this old perverted dog."

"It depends on whether you are ugly behind the mask."

"Quite the opposite, love."

[rtc-spin]

university of memphis rtc yapping

jasne was walked on wearing a white viel holding hands w/ karnak and the choir was standing heads down on blocks

after dream of life jane left and karnak yapped/pos and then he went into his box when uranium suite started

virgil was some old guy with rat ears and a leather jacket

ricky looked so annoyed and misha was on his phone

misha held up his little flask of alcohol when it said "drink some brew join the choir"

they all got spun off and yk it was SO COOOLLL then it started also karnak genuinely seemed like an animatronic it was so epic

ricky seemed excited about the iron maiden shirt then looked disgusted abt the funk of the carny

everyone was so mad at ocean 

MISHA DID BALLET. MISHA. DID. BALLET. (in the "meet misha bachynskyi! catchphrase:") 

MISHA DAPPED UP RICKY

when ricky said "thats nothing! check this out" (or whatever) he like. hit himself to make music do you know what i mean (misha was hyping him up)

jane !! the SILLY GIRL!!!!!! (everyone was scared of her)

jane grabbbed oceans hair during her yap session (when constance is like "ocean shes-")

MISHA , PLAYING OCEANS DAD, PULLED A PIECE OF SHIT OUT OF HIS BUTT (not literally) AND IT WAS ON A STRING AND HE HANDED IT TO JANE (oceans mom) WHO GAVE IT TO NOEL

blue and silver pom poms for what the world needs!!

during wtwn, she yelled at the audience "vote me for president!!" then "clap for me!" and relished in the applause and was like "ok thats enough" and continued the song

ricky was SO MAD at ocean when she talked abt him 

stacked up boxes to stand on

everyone was mad. obv

ocean forced misha to come over to grab his shoulder so she could get off the boxes

OCEAN GRABBED RICKYS CHEEK LIKE A GRANDMA WHEN SHE CALLED HIM LITTLE SWEETIE 😭

jane like grabbed oceans hand when she said she loved her and ocean was disgusted

noel snapping at ocean was so silly

noel was more sad in his monologue and the taco bell sound effect jumpscare 💔

him SCREAMING "NOOOO" at karnak when he tells him to explain the taco bell

noel snapping at ocean again was also silly

RED AND BLACK DRESS, mainly red, short black bob wig

he. pulled a cigarette out of his bra(?)

misha came up at the "i have no idea where to find him officer" part and noel snapped his neck at "ten times in his back" and MISHA STAYED DEAD ON THE GROUND THE WHOLE SONG

the girls were the other hookers and noel was like telling them the story of why he killed misha and he stepped on him it was so silly

and ricky held noel when he said "my child is there any final words to ze lord ud like to say!?"

noel ended it standing on the chair

misha. walked up. AFTER THE SONG. and kissed noel. no explanation he just did

when he said it was natural for two men to kiss noel looked disappointed

mishas voice was always louder than everyone elses he was incredible

esgal was so funny and the improv was too

ocena was like a ballerina with a wand

constande didnt finish her thing, she turned around and saw ocean looking FURIOUS and she just cut off

misha leaning on karnaks box was so silly

he looked so sad when he started taking abt talya

RICKY CAME BACK WITH A ROBOT HEAD AND HUGE FAKE GOLD MONEY CHAIN

THE RAPPING WAS HORRIBLE IT WAS SO FUNNY

NOEL AND OCEAN TWERKING IN THE BACKGROUND 

he kept his shirt on the entire time 

MIC DROP AT THE END

talya was beautiful. also noel played talya (wearing a veil)

misha delivered his monologue to his phone then stood up

I COULD FEEL HIS VOICE IN MY BONES I ALMOST CRIED HE WAS SO GOOD

ended the song w back to audience

noel ran uo and hugged him, then constance and ricky joined and jane awkwardly hugged constances back. ocean did not join

misha walked up to ricky and put a hand on hos shoulder and told him to go

everyones jaw dropped when he started tlaking and misha mouthed "what the fuck?"

ricky was wearing a little birthday hat and was reading a comic at the beginning of the song and he was so confused and concerned abt the aliens

misha and noel were aliens and the girls were cats

misha and noel humping the air 💀

RICKYS COSTUME WAS PURPLE AND SLIVER AND GREEN IIRC AND HE HAD AN R ON HIS BELT HE WAS LIKE A SUPER HERO

his singing was so good. what the gleep

at "making love in zero gravity" noel and misha held up a fabric and ricky and the girls went below it and rickys head popped up and ine of the girls grabbed him and pulled him back down

MISHA AND NOEL GOT DOWN ON THEIR KNEES AND WORSHIPPED HIM WHEN MISHA CALLED HIM SPACE JESUS

jane pulled the lever and no photos came up so she tried again :(

the choir started whispering to each other "do you know her?" "who is that?" and stuff when jane walked to her blcok to stand when the ballerina came out

a ballerina wearing super flowy white fabric came out and danced up until "and from the ground beneath my feet"

jane was like. idk i cant describe it but she was like jerking around and dancing

and the rest of the choir was like dead and moving their bodies like they were broken while sitting

she got a tiny birthday hat :(

HUGE FAKE CUPCAKE OMG

ocena walked over to the band and liked directed them on what to play and seemed very hesitant abt what she was fonna sing

ricky taught her how to eat the cupcake then he took a bite and gave her a thumbs up and she copied him and he gave her a fist bump and she gave her doll a fist bump

jane like waved around her doll and gave the doll to ricky and he made the doll walk and she shook her head and did the motion if like waving around the doll and he copied her and he did it for a while until she took the doll back (she had been like waving around her doll to play with it a lot)

noel drank so much alcohol it spilled down his face and misha did the same (and kept doing so) 

constance left ocean after talking and sat down then ocean was like "my death has really affected me!" she got up and walked over and yk said "yeah me too"

ocean crying in a chair after constance punched her

CONSTANCES MONOLOGUE WAS SO SAD. also misha actually had the tattoo (temporary tattoo but still) that the carny had

noel walked up to constance and put a hand on her shoulder and jane brought her microphone (WHICH WAS BLUE COTTON CANDY??)

sugar cloud was amazing.

ocean whispered "im sorry" and hugged constance

the other side was yellow

the other side stayed open when ocean yapped

when she said "motion carried, democracy rocks" she raised her hand to vote for jane and everyone else raised their hands too so the vote was still unanimous

jane. kept wlaking. i dont know how but she kept walking back for a long time eventually theyjusy lowered the big circle again

there was a countdown before karnak died, and a bunch of different fortunes overlayed each other (like the audio of him saying a bunch of fortunes) before he said THE fortune

the choir all hugged eachother and the theatre went completely dark and the auidenxe clapped like it was over

the lights slowly came back on it was so cool

they finished the song

AND THEN they like got pulled back like they did in the beginning and they got on the same blocks in the same position as the beginning and then the back lit up like a sun for the last dream of life

then they js broke character and did bows :3

oh also jane like. stared down the audience multiple times

OVERALL 10000/10 EXPERIENCE WOULD DO AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN

[cherrryxx]

“All is fair in love and war, but I can’t fight with you anymore,,”

(Song: Allies or enemies by The Crane Wives)

OP men and their reaction to an argument, where m!reader gets upset and avoids them.

Including: Mihawk, Kaku

Warnings: angst, m!reader, hurt/comfort, minor cursing, SPOILERS FOR WATER SEVEN/ENIES LOBBY

MIHAWK

- Only reason he would end up arguing with you is for doing something he specifically asked you not to, that could have resulted in you being hurt. Mayybeee also if you’re being too ignorant about things too.

“I said I was sorry! Nothing happened so it’s really not that serious!” You shout at Mihawk. He was agitated and ended up arguing with you after you had followed him into a particularly risky battle.

“Really? And what if I had cut you in half! I could have killed you, THEY would have killed you.” Mihawk snaps. He’s never raised his voice or talked to you with such an aggressive tone, and to be honest it scares you a bit.

As he continues to chew you out, belittling your own ability to stay alive, practically insulting your skills as he gives every reason that he wanted you to listen. You eventually snap.

“Mihawk I’m not a fucking child!” You shout.

And that’s when he realized how much he screwed up. He tried to quickly apologize,

“Look, love, I’m sorry, I know I was being a little har-“

But you were having none of it. You closed the door in the golden-eyed man’s face.

Throughout a week period, you avoided him. Mihawk respected it for the time being, but didn’t enjoy the fact that you treated his presence like a vile plague.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand it anymore, and cornered you in the library.

“I’m sorry, please. I know I can’t control everything you do, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

It was the first time you’ve ever heard desperation in the warlord’s voice. You looked at him your eyes heavy with sorrow; and pulled him close to you.

“I’m sorry. I know you just wanted to protect me, I just want to show you that I can protect myself, though.”

KAKU

- Kaku would literally be too perfect in a relationship to do something that would cause an argument. Oh, besides the fact that he was a secret government agent that nearly assassinated your beloved mayor and friend. Excluding that.

You were furious with Kaku after learning of his betrayal in Water 7. Paulie and Iceburg felt obligated to tell you, especially since you were together for the past five years.

You cried through the next few weeks, only stopping to celebrate when you learned the strawhat crew had managed to get Nico Robin back, and escape relatively unscathed.

After the Luffy and his crew left Water 7 for good, you felt numbed inside. The person you had been with for the past five years worked for the government, and no less attempted to assassinate your close friend Iceburg.

One night, while you were in one of the back allies so you could dispose of your trash; there was a loud thud. You quickly turned around, spotting a tall figure in black clothes.

Instinctively, you grab the carving knife you always kept in your pocket.

“Who’s there!”

You demand, not letting your voice waver for a second.

But when the “stranger” lifted his head, your heart dropped.

“Kaku?” You croaked, your eyes welling up with tears.

“Hello.” He said, shifting awkwardly a few yards away from you.

Your sadness quickly flared up into anger as you remembered why he left in the first place.

“How could you do this, Kaku?!” You shouted, it felt like your voice was ripping through your throat as you spoke. “I trusted you, everyone trusted you!”

You couldn’t keep your tears from running down your face as sobs wracked your body.

You felt arms wrap around you warmly, pulling you close.

“I’m so sorry, honey, please,” Kaku’s voice cracked as he spoke, “I didn’t want to, please believe me. I didn’t. I just don’t have a choice anymore.”

You cried, hitting and punching at his chest. Kaku took the hits sucking in through his teeth as he held back tears.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry my dear.” He choked out.

You grip his arms roughly, your hands shaking with the gesture.

“I forgive you.”

[cleverthylacine]

Just watched Ep 1 of Earthspark S2. And I'm furious.

Don't read this if you don't want spoilers. Or if you think the showrunners can still do no wrong, and are unprepared for the level of Incandescent Fury of which I am capable. But if you DO have spoilers for the whole season and understand my particular vibe, PLEASE read this and reblog with answers (but use the cut for the sake of my followers)...

Reasons why I'm mad:

A year goes by in which all of the stuff I was actually interested in presumably happened: dealing with GHOST, the Decepticons and Autobots cooperating, and also, Mo and Robby getting cool mech suits.

Then for no reason other than "Decepticons huh" the Decepticons apparently forgot their alliance, turned on Our Designated Good Guys (tm) and just randomly started trying to conquer and/or kill everything again. Or were they screwed over, yet again? I really hope so, not because I want them to suffer but because there needs to be a freaking reason why they turn on other Cybertronians when they are stuck on Earth. But I don't have a good feeling about it given the contemptuous attitudes displayed by Bee (as usual, because ES Bee is a fucking asshole) and Robby (disappointing, he wasn't like that before).

And we never did get to find out what the fuck was up with GHOST or why the Decepticons were all in jail (and no, "Decepticons huh" is not an acceptable reason--they have every reason to hate us.)

Breakdown is a terrible parent for no reason? BREAKDOWN?

The Chaos Terrans thing gives me the same willies that the Orcs in Tolkien (I am not a Tolkien fan) used to do. I am not comfortable with the eugenicist/ableist notion that people can be born corrupt and innately evil, especially not if it has something to do with HOW they were born.

Soooo... if you've finished the season (I know you've been posting a bit about it) is there any reason for me to continue?

Reasons I would continue:

Ravage continues to be basically the same Ravage I write, only much smaller.

RavWave (as a ship, not just platonic interaction, mostly because I would watch anything for that no matter how messed up)

Explanation that there actually is a reason why the Cons turned on everyone, and what that reason is. Did they want to put them back in jail? Did they want them to do forced labour? Did Megatron start whaling on Starscream again? I note Tara isn't around Con HQ, what does Tara know?

Quints are interesting and not just scary (the Quints in Cyberverse scared me more than many adult horror movie villains did, BUT they are also just kinda evil and mean and we have no idea why, which would not have been particularly interesting at all except for the fun of watching Hot Rod and Soundwave become the faction leaders while OP and Megatron were unable to be)

Chaos Terrans are not innately bad or do not need some mystical power of nuclear heteronormative family to make them good

The Decepticons get something out of the ending other than screwed

We find out more about Dot and Megs

Some Cons are good parents

More Tarantulas and Nightshade content

Hashtag continues to have a relationship with Starscream that affects the plot as it develops

We are actually told what happened during the year they missed

Reasons I would not continue:

Cons are just bad because cons are bad.

Ravage is Soundwave's daughter or pet or in some other way not actually a grown-ass adult Decepticon officer, making Soundwave a father who raises child soldiers or a guy who runs dogfights, which is not cute even if he is snatched af

(they don't have to be lovers though my shipping heart was pleased when their PDA in the deleted scenes embarrassed Starscream, but she has to be a Real Independent Person who could be someone's partner if not his)

Chaos Terrans are innately bad until "saved" by the Power of Love And the Nuclear Family (or just innately bad)

Emberstone continues to be Allspark Mark II so why even change the name?

Bee's incredible assholery is never called out (it's not funny when a starving person accidentally kills their starving teammate due to a mistake they made because they were starving)

Only Autobots and people who form nuclear families can be good parents

Everyone being friends with the cows goes to the PETA place

Cons get nothing but screwed

Please tell me this series hasn't gone where I was afraid it would. Or let me know that it has so I can decide if it's going to be so bad I'll be mad the whole time like I was in Ep 1.

Warning: anyone who clowns on this post to be a RavWave anti or say "The Decepticons are supposed to be pure evil, duh!" will get blocked.

[flight-of-the-sacred-eagle]

So, I’m still yelling about Sonic Prime season 2. It’s. So fucking good?

And not just because someone on the writing team 100% ships Sonadow because, holy crap, so much of that episode feels shippy.

So, full disclosure. Shadow is my favorite Sonic character. Ever since I saw him in Heroes I loved him. As a kid I didn’t notice the real “constantly shifting character” thing. Now, having played almost every major 3d Sonic game (I didn’t play Forces and refused to play Boom), having watched shows like Sonic X and Sonic Prime (again, I stayed away from Boom but I’ve heard it’s amazing), I think it’s obvious that he gets wildly mischaracterized.

He’s angsty, yes. I mean, he watched his child best friend/sister get shot to death in front of him when he was… five (Look, he’s simultaneously Sonic’s age, over 50, and like five- his age is an enigma), that would make anyone angsty. But he’s also genuinely caring, even if he rarely shows it.

Look no further than 06 when he accidentally releases Mephelis because he picks up Rogue to move her away, or when he intercepts Silver so Sonic can go save Elise. He’s actively saved the world three times- SA2, Shadow the Hedgehog, and 06, with him sacrificing his life in his first appearance. And let’s not forget how he genuinely seemed upset in 06 when Sonic died.

Actually, 06 is the best characterization of Shadow since his introduction. And it can basically all be summed up in his own words. “If the whole world chooses to turn against me, then I’ll fight like I always have.”

He’s brooding. He’s harsh. He’s proud and independent. But by god will he fight to the death for what is right. He cares about people, but he uses actions not words.

Now, what does this have to do with Sonic Prime? Well, this is probably the best characterization of Shadow they’ve ever done. He’s still broody and much more reserved, but everything he’s doing is selfless. He’s not beating up Sonic just because.

He’s beating up Sonic because he, rightfully in my mind, sees Sonic as a threat to his world. He isn’t trying to prevent Sonic from saving the world, he’s basically trying to put him in time out for ruining the world.

This is more than proven when he not only realizes that he can’t do something, but he also realizes that the only way to fix everything is to work together. And he actively admit that. Reluctantly, yes, but he says they need to work together.

He’s still angry and is currently furious at Sonic, but… he kind of has the right to be. Interestingly, he actually spoke to Sonic before fighting him (which, side note, was animated amazingly).

And let’s not forget his cockiness. It’s done perfectly. He’s not taking it too far like Sonic tends to do, but him being a smug little shit is great. And I think it really helps to show the dynamic he and Sonic have because he’s just. Not like that around other characters.

Without using words, they managed to show that, despite the fighting that’s happening, there’s a bond between Sonic and Shadow. One that can only be forged by fighting to save the world side by side.

I think it’s also important to mention that Shadow clearly was enjoying his fight with Sonic. Probably because it’s the most normal thing he’s experienced in forever. His friends are gone. Green Hill is gone. The chaos emerald is gone (though I have a suspicion that it’s going to come back at some point. It fell into the void for a reason and that void was shown for a reason. My bet is that they’re going to need to enter the void at some point). He’s trapped in limbo.

Fighting Sonic is a constant. One he desperately needs.

I know I’ve been rambling but for the first time in over a decade, they’ve gotten Shadow’s personality perfectly. Makes me wonder if the writers, or at least some of them, played SA2 growing up. After all… it’s been long enough since he was introduced that the target audience for SA2 when it was released would be old enough to work for the SEGA team.

It also makes me crazy excited for the third Sonic movie. I know they’re different writers, but they have hit the nail on the head with each character, and if a different show can characterize Shadow that well… maybe Sega is relaxing their iron grip on him and allowing him to actively shine.

Also that scene with Shadow falling to the void and Sonic sounding genuinely panicked was amazing. You can tell he was getting SA2 flashbacks. Someone likened the scene to Andrew Garfield’s Spider-Man watching MJ fall in No Way Home and catching her when he couldn’t catch Gwen, and yeah. The emotional impact seems to be the same.

Sonic couldn’t save Shadow then, but he can save him now.

Just… go watch Prime if you haven’t. Sonic fans have been treated well these past few years and I can’t wait to see what comes next.

[clementine-side-blog]

Unexpected Visit - W.G

Summary: You are Will Graham's friend, having met through one of his coworkers. Once he gets out of the hospital, he comes to visit, easing your worried mind. It had been months and you were furious.

Content Warning: Explicit language, angst, fluff, mentions of gore, and brief mention of needles.

Word Count: 1.9k

Songs For Inspo:

i always kinda knew you'd be the death of me - Artemas

The Blackest Day - Lana Del Rey

Fade Into You - Mazzy Star

"You asshole! What the fuck?!"

━━━━━━━☆READ BELOW CUT☆━━━━━━━

You didn't expect a knock at your door that night. It was around 10 o'clock and the sky was pitch black, only accompanied by faint dark blue streaks, just like watercolor. The moon was full, illuminating the streets better than any of the streetlamps could do. It was a peaceful night in your small little suburban neighborhood.

And then you heard it.

Three heavy knocks, ringing with authority, coming from your front door. It startled you, the noise, but also with how late it was. You hadn't invited anyone over, it was far too late for Jehovah's witnesses or door to door salesmen, so who was it? God, you wish you never asked, for the answer was conflicting on your heart. When you cracked open the door, cautious about who was behind it, you nearly slammed it shut when you saw him.

William Graham. Former FBI Agent William Graham.

It was so conflicting. Half of you wanted to spit on his shoes, yell curses at him, and slam the door in his face. The other half of you wanted to pull him in, embrace him in a hug, and never let go. In a way, you did both, for the first thing you said to him was...

"You asshole! What the fuck?!"

He winced, looking like a child getting scolded for sneaking a cookie before dinner. For such a tall man, he looked small before you. It was clear that he was hesitant to speak, as it took him a moment to gather his words.

"It's good to see you too, y/n." He chuckled half-heartedly.

Witty Will. Some things never change.

You scoffed, opening the door for him to walk in, though you still wanted to slam it in his face. With a quick turn on your heels, you marched away into the kitchen, not bothering to see if he was following you. You were too angry. The blood in your veins was practically boiling with fury. But some part of you felt relief as well. Relieved to know your friend wasn't dead.

He was silent as he closed the door, removing his shoes, and trailing behind you. Like a sad dog with his tail tucked between his legs, he moped. It wasn't like he was trying to get pity, no, he was just upset that you were so angry with him. Though, you had every right to be. He knew that.

Standing up, he looked down at you as you sat in a chair at the kitchen table. He always wondered why you lived in the suburbs. You didn't have any children, nor a romantic partner, just a dog that was currently dozing off on the couch. While he was in the hospital, especially when he was having trouble sleeping, he'd imagine he was in the house with you. Will would picture himself living with you, going out to dinner with you, and just enjoying sweet domestic moments with you. Maybe it was inappropriate, after all, you two were just friends. But for years, he had always wanted his relationship with you to be more than that.

"I'm..."

He trailed off, looking down to the ground as he sighed. Just before coming inside, he had rehearsed what he was going to say over and over again. But now that he was actually here, standing in front of you, the words escaped him. And even if he did find the right words...would it help at all?

"...y/n, I'm so sorry." He murmured, looking up to hold back his tears.

Will was an open book. He wasn't ashamed to show his emotions, he was comfortable with his masculinity. Crying wasn't weak to him, nor was talking about his feelings. It was a sign of strength in his eyes. He cried often. Will had shed so many tears in the hospital that he was convinced it could fill up a pool.

You ran a hand through your hair, closing your eyes for a brief moment as you shook your head. The urge to forgive him was already tugging at your heart, but you were still angry. You couldn't forgive him yet. It wasn't right. What he did to you wasn't right.

"Will, you wouldn't let me visit you. You told me to leave you alone. You haven't made any form of contact with me ever since you went to the hospital! That was months ago! Sorry isn't going to cut it!" You spat, letting all your pent up feelings out.

It felt like a knife was plummeted into his heart. Each word you said felt like a hand twisting the weapon. It reminded him of the reason he ended up in the hospital in the first place. A shiver ran down his spine, the shudder of his body visible to you.

"I know, I...I didn't handle it in the best way. But I had a reason, y/n, please just let me explain..."

God, he sounded so sad. It was painful to witness. The regret was evident in his tone of voice, as well as the disappointment in his face. He was frustrated with himself. There wasn't a night that went by where he didn't scold himself for being so stupid. His intentions were good, but man did he fuck it up.

You just shrugged, but nodded your head eventually. It was late and you were exhausted. His arrival was unexpected, catching you completely off guard. He couldn't blame you if you were a little frazzled.

Sighing in relief, he walked over to the table, sitting down in the chair closest to yours. He hung his head low, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. Dragging them down, he folded them together, resting his chin on them as he looked up at you.

"I just...a part of me worried that you would be in danger."

You quirked an eyebrow and he immediately elaborated.

"I know, it's stupid, because Lecter's locked away. But, still, I was paranoid. Maybe it was all the drugs they had me on, I don't know. And a small part of me just...well, just didn't want you to see me like that..." He faded, a bit embarrassed at that last bit.

The quirked eyebrow fell, both of them now furrowing. Confusion was written all over your face. Why did he not want you to see him in the hospital? It made no sense. Will Graham was far from prideful, so it certainly had nothing to do with that. It stumped you.

"I don't understand?"

How could you? It was an odd situation after all. There was no judgement casted on you for your lack of understanding.

"Y/n, I was ashamed." His words were straight to the point.

Your anger had now subsided. Sure, you were still hurt that he hadn't contacted you in months, but at least now you were getting answers. The answers were just a tad more depressing than you thought they would be.

"Ashamed? Of what? That's not like you..."

He nodded.

"I know, but I really fucked up. I should have seen the signs. He was right under my nose the entire time. I was just too blind to notice it."

It felt like your heart sank down into your stomach. Will was never a negative man. That's one of the things you lov-...liked about him. He tried to keep an optimistic view on things, or at least a realistic view. Never pessimistic in his life. Will was the type of person to say "well at least some birds will have a nice treat" if his ice cream fell off his cone and onto the pavement. He was just a sweet, positive, friendly man. So, to hear him say negative things about himself, well, it was jarring. You were starting to understand what was going on and it pained you.

"Hey, no, you did figure it out! Why are you ashamed? You're the reason Hannibal is behind bars. You should be proud of yourself." You tried to encourage him.

To further express your genuineness, you placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a gentle touch, yet comforting. Upon contact, he nearly tensed up, but prevented it from happening. He hadn't seen you in a while, and he hadn't felt your touch in a while. It was starting to hit him about just how much he missed you.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, after almost being killed. I could have died, y/n. I could have died and left..."

His eyes met yours, mouth slightly open. Words wanted to leave his mouth, but they didn't. There was so much he wanted to tell you, but he couldn't build up the nerve. He couldn't speak because there was something he wanted to do. This thing had been on his mind since he arrived at the hospital. It lingered in his every waking moment. He had to do it. He wanted to do it.

"Left wha-"

You were cut off. It felt like a blur, for it all happened so fast, but his hands were cupping your face. And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. The dry weather had caused his lips to be a little dry, but it didn't matter to you that much. You were too enthralled with what was happening to even care. Then, he pulled away, face just inches apart from yours, breathing softly.

"You, y/n. I would have left you."

His rough hands were still against your cheeks. There were little tan band-aids on them, covering up the tiny holes that once had IV's in them. He must have just got out today, which shocked you. He didn't even wait to recover from his long stay, no, he came to see you immediately. He missed you terribly.

"Will..." Your voice was breathy, as if you were whispering.

Slowly, he let his hands fall away from your face. He looked discouraged. He must have taken your response as a form of rejection. You sounded hesitant, but you weren't. In fact, you were ecstatic about what just happened. Your anger and resentment were out the window now that you knew the reason behind what he did. There was no way you could stay mad at him; mad at the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

"I-"

It was your turn to cut him off now. You were a little more passionate about it though. Launching yourself forward, though gently in case his stomach still hurt, you placed your hands on his shoulders. His eyes widened as you kissed him, but they quickly closed, wrapping his arms around your waist. The feeling of his large and labor worn hands on your body, even if it was on your clothing, was something you'd always cherish. It sent a shiver through your body as you pulled away for a breath.

"I'm glad you're still here, Will." You admitted, biting back a wide and goofy smile.

His smile was unable to be held back, however. It spread across his face and his grip on your hips tightened. You blushed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. Everything about the scenario felt like a dream. But it was all real.

Standing up, he brought you into a tight hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He couldn't prevent it any longer. Tears flowed and his body shook lightly with every sob that left his throat. You rubbed his back, kissing his shoulder as he wept.

"I-I'm not leaving again, I promise. It took a near death experience for me to figure it out, but I can't live without you, y/n. I love you."

All of his thoughts, emotions, and words that had been pent up in his mind for months were now flowing from his lips. His tears trickled down his face, leaving droplets on your shirt, staining it. You didn't mind. Your heart was fluttering to much for you to care about anything other than the three words he said.

"I love you too, Will."

Thank God for that unexpected visit.

[ficsofabotchedmind]

A day in the life: Larissa’s personal hell

This is an “I think I’m in hell” one-shot. 😁

I think I’m in hell 1 2 3 4

Summary, eheheheheh…no ☺️

Warnings, some: Rabbits blood, talks of knives, torture, poor Larissa is in for it but so is Wednesday, mother daughter dynamics between both Larissa & Wednesday AND Enid & Larissa AND Wednesday & Morticia.

———————————————————————————

Larissa started her day like any other, she woke up and lay in bed for a few minutes contemplating humanity and how utterly fucked it was, she got up and had a good stretch, padded into her kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, fixed breakfast, ate said breakfast and drank said coffee, and went to shower and dress. 

Once finished Larissa would exit the apartment that was off to the side of her office and that is where normalcy ended. As Larissa opened the door the next thing she knew, something that was warm, wet, and smelled like copper fell on top of her.  

Larissa couldn’t even scream; she was absolutely paralyzed. Looking down, Larissa saw red. Not metaphorical red, but literal red. She also saw the remains of a balloon, a white balloon.  

Raising her arm and inhaling, she knew exactly what it was. Blood, someone had filled a white balloon full of blood, snuck into her office, and rigged a mechanism to trigger so as soon as she opened the door, splat. 

No, not just someone, Wednesday Friday Addams. Once Larissa got her hands on that child, there will be hell to pay, but in this moment all Larissa could think was, “Fuck me, this is going to be impossible to get out! The whole bloody dress is ruined!” 

So, in that moment, Larissa decided to make a statement. She exited her office and made her way to Ophelia Hall, all the way there her stilettos made a splat sound as they hit the floor. 

Enid could hear the noise all the way from the room she shared with Wednesday, along with a sharp heel connecting with the floor as harsh and angry steps were taken. All poor Enid could think was, “What did Wednesday do now?” And with that, she let a whine. 

Larissa, trekking down the hall and nearing the dorm, met Morticia. Morticia gaped at the tall, blonde, and furious goddess in front of her. Morticia was not thinking pure thoughts at all, her eyes roaming Larissa’s blood-soaked form, tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip.  

Biting her lip and smirking, she peered at Larissa through her lashes in obvious arousal, “My, my, my, don’t you look ravishing.” 

Larissa, torn between snorting at the raven-haired beauty’s obvious arousal and fuming over the fact a fucking expensive dress was now trash, hummed. 

“Morticia,” Larissa spoke, “I love you and I would do anything for you and to you, but not now. I’m off to kill that spawn of yours.” 

Morticia couldn’t help but let out an undignified snort, but she quickly composed herself and had the decency to look sheepish. 

“My darling Sequoia, there are better ways to get under Wednesdays skin.” Morticia said through a soft smile. 

“Oh?” questioned Larissa.

“Issa, I give you full permission to punish Wednesday, as a parental figure, any way you see fit.” Morticia saw the smirk crawling its way up the blood soaked-beauty’s face. 

Larissa, feeling her lips curl up into a grinch like smirk, said, “You’re giving me permission to use parental figure status with Wednesday? I can punish her? Ground her? Ultimately, what you’re saying is, I’m another mother for Wednesday and have full access to all parts of the role? And as much as the spawn irritates me sometimes, I wouldn’t harm a hair on her head and I would protect her with my life, again.” 

“Yes, all of that. You have my full permission to treat her as your own, when giving trouble and when in need of protection." Morticia said with a soft smile.

Larissa's face turned soft, she gently stepped forward and gave Morticia a dizzying kiss before saying, "Good, now after I'm done, I will call you all to my office but first, I want to make Wednesday skeptical." 

All Morticia could do was let a dreamy smile drift across her face, lick her lips, and nod. 

With that, Larissa trailed down the hall with a firm smirk etched onto her face and once arrived at the door, she dropped the smirk and knocked, “Girls, may I come in?” 

Wednesday, still not looking up from her typewriter, smirked, “Of course.” 

The door opened and in stepped Larissa Weems covered from head to toe, in what smelled like to Enid, rabbit blood. 

“I would greatly appreciate it if the both of you would come to my office in an hour,” looking towards Enid, “and before you panic my little ray of sunshine, you are not in trouble.” With that, Larissa left with a soft close of the door.

All Wednesday could think was, "Oh fuck." 

*An hour later* 

Larissa sat smiling at her desk while the two girls sat across from her, "Do you know why I called you in here, girls?" 

Enid, while side-eying her girlfriend, said, "Yes, I think I do." 

Larissa smiled and looked towards Morticia, "Morticia, would you be so kind as to tell Wednesday what you said to me? And Enid, I want you to witness this.”

Larissa turned back to the girls, looked directly at Wednesday and smirked as Morticia spoke.  

After a few minutes of explanation, Wednesday's jaw hung open. This is one of the only times Morticia has seen her daughter like this, she knew what was about to happen and it wouldn't be good, so she said a silent prayer for her girlfriend. 

Wednesday collected herself and situated her glare on Weems, "What have you done? What have you DONE? Mother, what is the meaning of this? Is this some kind of cruel joke?" 

Morticia sighed while Larissa did nothing to help, all she could do was sit there smirking.  

Morticia carefully approached her-their daughter and spoke, "Wednesday, Larissa is now a permanent part of our lives so you will have to get used to Larissa having a say in your life, and that includes taking on the role of another parental figure." 

Wednesday's eyes darted between the two women; she was so angry you could practically see steam coming from her ears. 

Larissa dropped her smirk, she could see that Wednesday was becoming more strung by the second, "Wednesday, while I admit I take great pleasure in this, it's for two reasons. #1: I can keep you safe and #2: It means that I can make sure you know what you did was wrong and punish you accordingly. I will not abuse this...too much but I will make sure you know that I love you as if you were my flesh and blood." 

Wednesday took a minute to process what was said and then spoke, "Who's to say I'm not of your flesh and blood? Mother is so in love with you she could have had Grandmama do a spell because even I admit, I am much like you." 

Larissa knew this was an olive branch and took it, she chuckled and said, "I wouldn't put it past your mother." 

At that Morticia gave both, a smirking Wednesday, a chuckling Larissa, and a giggling Enid, a look. 

Enid deflated at the release of tension and her claws, once again, were sheathed, "I am not going to lie, I thought this would end in disaster. Oh! Mom, is that why we were called in?" 

Larissa smirked once again, "Partly but I also want to dish out punishment! Wednesday, you are grounded!" 

Before Larissa could finish Wednesday shouted, "What?" 

Larissa, used to Wednesday's habits by now, said, "Yes, you are grounded, you ruined a very expensive dress, a carpet, and got rabbit blood along the walls and door. Oh, and partially in my apartment. So that means, no knives, no bombs, no hunting, no investigating, and NO TORTURING PUGSLEY!" 

Wednesday's eyes widened and she gritted her teeth but got an idea at the last moment and smirked, "Fine, anything else, FATHER or would you prefer MOMMY?" 

Larissa gritted her teeth but before she could say anything Wednesday spoke again, “I have to go back to our dorm room now, I’m grounded. Enid, did you still want to have lunch with your mother?” 

Enid, not knowing what to do to calm the situation, said, “Yeah, yeah.” While all she could think in a whiny voice was, “Wednesday, don’t get in more trouble, please.” 

Wednesday gave Enid a gentle kiss and walked out but as she stepped out of the door but still in Larissa's line of sight, she smirked and made a 'you're dead' motion. 

Larissa knew Wednesday wasn't actually going to kill her...or was she... 

Larissa groaned and put her head in her hands, "Fuck, I'm officially in hell." 

Morticia chuckled at Larissa and gently rubbed her shoulders while Enid spoke up, "Don't worry, Mom! Wednesday won't actually hurt you...physically." 

Larissa whimpered, groaned, and let her head land with a thud on her desk. Both Morticia and Enid winced at the sound and looked towards one another, and a silent look was shared, "She's in for it." 

[brotherwtf]

i want to see more Hogwarts AU! like mudblood Hufflepuff John and pureblood Slytherin Gale. Childhood friends to rivals to lovers!!!

it helps that I just finished marathoning harry potter so this ish is fresh in my memory

John was a sweet boy, he was raised with love and enthusiasm as his parents navigated raising a wizard child, encouraging and loving every step of the way for their child

he wanted to be friends with everyone, was always excited to meet other witches and wizards because he didn't grow up surrounded by them and he was playing in the woods one day when he met Gale 1

Gale was also a sweet boy, but in a far different way. Sweet in the way blood might taste, sweet to those who deserved it, but not to those who didn't, but he didn't learn this trait until he was a teenager, but when he was 7 and first met John, a smiling little boy with a streak of dirt across his nose, he didn't see what was wrong with him

played in the woods with him all day everyday, until he finally decided to bring John to meet his parents at his mansion. Gale's parents, of course, wanted to meet the little wizard who had befriended their only son, loved his personality and bubbly attitude until they asked if his parents were magical and John said no, he was the first wizard in his family, ever so proud

Gale's parents were from a long line of witches and wizards, all slytherins, and all associated with dark magic, and they hated mudbloods with a burning passion, told little Gale he was never to see John again, lest he dirty his blood

John of course was furious at Gale's parents for taking his childhood best friend away, just because of some silly family beliefs, but Gale had shamefully followed his parents so easily into those beliefs

John was so excited to receive his letter when he was eleven, so excited to learn all about magic and be even further entrenched into the magical world, and his parents were also so excited to go along with that journey with him

he gets his wand and a beautiful tawny owl and who does he see when they gather outside of the great hall to get sorted?? none other than Gale cleven, his childhood best friend. And John waves to him, smiles and hopes to rekindle their relationship, but Gale only glares at him and turns his back to John, which only makes him more furious

John watches Gale get sorted into Slytherin, and the little Irish boy he talks to, Curt, tells him that all slytherins are no good, all turn out to be evil and conniving bastards, which only makes John scoff. Of course Gale would be sorted into Slytherin

John gets sorted into Hufflepuff, kind and loyal, while Curt gets sorted into Gryffindor, strong and brave, but they're basically attached at the hip despite that

John and Gale butt heads every single year of school, from trying to kill each other in charms to trying to bludgeon each other to death in quidditch (John's a beater and Gale's a seeker obv) and they have a long standing hatred for each other all throughout their years of schooling, desperately trying to outshine the other even when it didn't fucking matter in the end

they graduate from Hogwarts, John making sure to throw a nasty look Gale's way when he accepts his wizarding diploma, and he thinks he may never see Gale again

that is, until they're assigned to be partners as aurors at the ministry

they're both furious of course, having thought they would never have to see each other again, and now they basically have to spend every waking hour together, have to depend on each other to keep themselves alive

they're assigned a bunch of odd jobs, hunting dark wizards and witches and preventing underage magic, but John finds that their banter has gone from hostile to almost friendly, Gale takes John's teasing with a smirk on his face and John takes Gales deadpan insults with a jovial laugh

it isn't until an assignment gone wrong that they realize how absolutely in love with each other they are, Gale just narrowly dodged the death curse, but didn't miss the laceration curse, bleeding and cursing to himself against a pillar

John goes absolutely insane when Gale gets hurt, casting curse after curse until their opponents surrender to him, only then does John drop to his knees beside Gale and start mumbling spells to close the bleeding wounds on Gale's stomach and chest

then, only then, when John looks up into Gales blue, blue eyes, eyes that glow even though there's no light, does he realize how madly in love with him he is

and even though Gale is still bleeding and in pain, John grabs him and kisses him like he's the one that needs him to breathe, and Gale's hand come up to his robes and clutch at him desperately, panting from the pain and from John's lips

I just think it's neat how they might not have realized their love for each other until they were adults... interesting interesting thoughts.... but this was so fucking to write about thank you!!

[littlefankingdom]

~ Batgirl (2000)

They are sad and disappointed in themselves and they should be. What they did is not justice.

So, I'm mad about this issue, like really mad for personal reasons I will explain later. For context: a young girl has been kidnapped by a thief who escaped jail. It's not the first time said thief kidnapps this girl. This young girl, around 10 years old, is an artist and her mother exploits her, making money by selling her daughter's art. They are rich. This woman doesn't love her daughter, she loves the money she is making from her daughter. The man that keeps kidnapping this young girl? Her father. Her father that loves and cares for her, that turned to crime to take care of his daughter, and refuses to sell any art she makes because she made it for him, because she loves her father. And she pleads, she pleads Batgirl to let her with her father and not bring her back to her mother who doesn't love her, she pleads her to not put her father in jail. And what do Batgirl does? She stops the father, gives him to the cops and brings back the girl to her mother. On those panels, they are looking at a sad child with her abuser they brought her back to.

My mother doesn't love me. She will say she does to others, but it's not true and it has been the case for a long time, since I was very young. I wasn’t unwanted, I was just not what she wanted. My life was supposed to be centered, until my death, around taking care of my mother (she is not disabled or anything, she just wants people to do everything for her). Raised to make money I would gift to my mother, so she could have luxuries, but I was not successful in that. I grew up pleading for love, pleading for people to listen to my pain. Nobody did. I learnt that people prefer the comfort and peace of their lives over helping others. I learnt to distrust authority figures (teachers, doctors, any adults/people at least 5 years older than me in general), because either they were power hungry assholes who abuse kids, either they preferred to look away, who would tell me to be nice and listen to my mother. It's too much problem to help children. In the end, I could count on nobody but myself to get out. I can count on nobody but myself. I hate the system, and I promised myself I would never be like those who look away, I will defend any child that needs it.

So, to read a story where a little girl pleads a HERO to not bring them back to their abuser, only for said HERO to still bring her back to her abuser, to tell her to be nice and stay with her awful parent... I am furious. This issue is literally telling me that, if heroes existed, the heroes you adore since you are a child, they would not have saved you. They would have bring you back to your mother and told you to be nice, like everyone else. They would have let you go through those years of pain. Heroes would have looked away.

What is the logic here? Because it's neither justice or the good thing to do. That it is the law? Since when do they follow the law? I don't remember vigilantism being legal, or assault and battery, or owning all the weapons Bruce owns. Yes, it was still a kidnapping, her father is a criminal, it would not have been a good life for a child. But, the Bats could have tried to find a solution, instead of simply giving this child back to someone who will treat her like shit.

I know it's just a fiction, so it's not like a real child is being exploited and will be more abused later when she stops being good enough because her mental health deteriorated, nobody is going to become depressed and lose trust in heroes because the bats brought her back to her awful mother. And also, it's not the characters who are at fault, it's the writers. It's not about Cass and Bruce being bad people heroes, it's about who the fuck decided to write that. New entries in my list of enemies, Keller Puckett and Dylan Horrocks.

[princess-of-the-corner]

What is the Princess Bee AU? Never seen that tag.

OH BOY

This one's a mess of an AU but here we fuckin GO

Princess Bee is a nextgen au but within closer-to-canon (like I change /some/ things like Adrien being left in the dark and Gabe being 'such a good father') and post-Season 5.

So ofc more sympathetic to Chloé, but things go down somewhat similar in after being roped into Monarch's nonsense, Andre gets a divorce and gives up all custody rights, and Audrey takes Chloé off to wherever. NY, London, who knows.

Chloé has fully come to realize how fucked this is and all. So she spends the following years getting better. It's hard af without a support system, but she knows she wants to be a better person and that she needs to get her shit together and make sure she has some kind off job path set up because she knows that Audrey will kick her the second she turns 18.

After said kicking out, Chloé changes her last name and uses the better grades she's been getting and the money she squirreled away to get a law degree and also some actual professional therapy to unpack her various traumas in a better way than just rawdogging it on trial and error.

Sometime in her 20s, after getting her shit together both financially and in the mental health department, Chloé decides she wants a kid of her own. She gets a friend to be surrogate father, and gets on with having her own kid. And she's good at it! Not just because she goes 'just do the opposite of what my parents did' but also she does her research and tries her best.

Skip ahead to when the daughter is a teenager, the same age as Chloé was when the Hero v Villain nonsense was happening in Paris.

Chloé gets notice because Andre died and he never actually changed his will to exclude her and she gets everything. She goes to Paris to deal with it and sees the hotel in disrepair and unfortunately Andre's second wife wants answers about the child she never knew about(she's both horrified and furious to find out what happened). After a lot of talking, the pair decide to work together to restore the hotel.

Meanwhile, Chloé brought her daughter with her and ofc enrolled her in school. And just so happens to end up in the class as the rest of the Miracuclass Next Gens. And oh would you look at that the need arises for a bunch of kid Heroes!

Meanwhile the old Team Miraculous are trying to navigate adult life, try to give the kids pointers, and panicking because Chloé coincidentally comes back to town right when a new Villain pops up?

So we have different perspectives of what's happening here. Chloé is just playing irl Homescapes. The kids are on their own superhero adventure. And Marinette is stuck in 'oh god oh god my unfinished business is coming back to bite me in the ass!!'.

Anyway have the masterpost for all the nextgen kids!