#and now he's been forced to confront it all. he'd been content not knowing if frank was his biological father.

[baby-tini]

do you have a part 2 of where Mikey is cheating?

I do now ❤️

TW- Yandere-ish behaviour, a bit of victim blaming, implied murder, slightly detailed scene of murder, violent behaviour, implication of past cheating.

Mikey was a mess ever since you left, he knows he brought it on himself by cheating, but he was still angry. He missed you deeply, thought about you every night and everyday, you were his first thought when he woke up, and his first thought when he went to bed. You were- are his everything, in his head, you're still his, and nothing is ever gonna change that- nothing. You guys are just... on a little break, that's all. You didn't actually wanna leave, you didn't actually mean it when you said, you never wanted too see him again... right? You couldn't possibly mean that, after all you guys have been through together? You can't be serious, there's no way. So he let you have your little break, even if your absence clawed at him every minute of everyday, but when you didn't... it all kinda went down hill from there, even more so then normal.

It took awhile for him too track you down, longer then he was comfortable with or even, willing too admit. You're everything to him, the reason he even still gets up in the mornings, so, when you left his life,it affected him more then everything else ever has. He was so irritated, taking it out on traitors, torching them slowly as he deflected his emotional pain into physical on the people who have done him wrong. When he finally found you though, or, rather his men found you, his heart started too hurt. He's never been so happy in his life, having heard the news of your exact whereabouts, it pleased him greatly, his eyes even have a little bit of life back in them. He found you living in a tiny little apartment on the outskirts of Tokyo, it was quiet- peaceful even, something his lifestyle greatly lacked.

He contemplated whether or not too just knock on the door... or just break in. But, he ultimately decided too just knock for now and if that didn't work for him, he'd have no problem forcing his way in. You were glowing when you opened that door, looking content- happy even, but the way your smile dropped and the look of delight turned to dread, it hurt, it hurt him so fucking much to the point he almost toppled over. But he held it together, his eyes almost pleading as he whispered your name, it almost sounding foreign with how long it's lacked coming from his lips. But it felt re-freshing on his tongue, like a shred of hope as you stepped aside and let him in. Although hesitant, as your steps lacked genuine want, looking more forced, knowing who exactly this man was and what he was capable of.

It was quiet for a while, as you both sat on your couch, the silence feeling awkward and heavy as you tried your best too avoid eye contact with him. The action feeling too intimate knowing what he did and the way you left, it might've not been the best decision or the best way too leave, but you didn't really have any other option, knowing it would, most likely, start a big fight that you really didn't feel like dealing with at the time. Or the worse option, he didn't care at all and would just let you leave, that would've hurt a lot more then just leaving it up in the air, but with him being here, you were betting on the former being the more obvious situation if you were too have confront him and try too leave at the time, also taking into account that Mikey isn't the most stable, and that would've most likely pushed him off the deep end and would've led to worse consequences for you then just being homeless for a while before you were able too get a shitty job as a waitress and live in a tiny apartment.

"I'm... sorry for what I did.." were the first words he chose too spoke, the first words you've heard from him in months. You knew he was sorry, his presence at the apartment told you all you needed too know, but you also knew that you didn't have too forgive him for what he did to you, you put up with a lot of his bullshit, let him get in your face and call you ugly names or let him get violent with men when they, very stupidly, thought it would be okay too eye-fuck their bosses girl. Watched him beat a man within an inch of his life as soon as his disgusting hands layed a slap to your ass, with a nasty smirk, you've never seen Mikey move so fast in your life, a kick to the man stomach as he beat him bloody, black and blue. Having replayed the mans screams in your head as begged and pleaded with Mikey too not kill him, that he was sorry, you know the man wasn't sorry for what he had done, only sorry that the consequences were so dire for him. That was the first and only time you've watched Mikey kill a man, he kept you locked away for weeks- months after that... incident.

You decided too keep quiet, which was a big mistake on your part cause it only made Mikey inch closer to you on the already small couch. His hands grabbing at your shaky ones, pulling them up to his lips as he left the softest kisses on the backs of them with the whisper of, "let me make it up to you, please?" You wanted him too, you really did, you missed when he was soft with you, although very rarely, he still was willing too show vulnerability. Your head was already clouded not having fully processed the whole infidelity on his part, but you did miss him and with his appearance at your apartment causing a wave of emotion too bubble in your chest and tear ducts, you did, you let him take care of you again. Just hoping and praying that you wouldn't regret everything when your head was a little bit clearer and your arms weren't wanting too constantly reach out and hug him, when your heart wasn't constantly begging you too let him touch you again, too take you again and have you so vulnerable under him as he whispered, hopefully, long-lasting promises in your ear.

So you did, you let him lay your back on that rough, uncomfortable couch as he left kisses on your face, leading down your neck and turning into love marks. Leaving spit-covered kisses down your chest as he hiked your leg over his waist, kissing underneath your ear as he whispered just how sorry he was to you, promising he'd never he look at another woman again, that what he did was a one-time stupid mistake. Whispering about, how it took him losing you too realise just how perfect you were, how rare you were too continuously stay by his side, too pledge your loyalty to such a bad man, such as his self- a monster. To a man who has taken more then he has ever given in his entire life, he knows that you're special, special to him, but just special in general. Letting him have- letting him take you in a place you now called home, knowing what he's done, he was selfish, he knows that, but he's done with it, now that he has you back in his arms, he's never letting you go again. Over his dead body- or, more like the dead body of the woman he had sex with, that led you both to this moment, no more.

[deathbxnny]

helloo, platonic aventurine, sunday and jing yuan with a teen!reader like ai hoshino?

(reader is a talented and captivating idol/singer, but outside of their idol persona they are sort of empty, trying to understand love and often doing self-destructive things while doing so)

Hey there, Anon! Thank you for your request, and I'm sorry this took so long! Life sucks as usual, lol. Anyways, I hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Hurt/comfort, angst, platonic relationships, potential mentions of depression and themes surrounding that, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》SUNDAY

Sunday already knew alot about the life of an idol through his own sister being one. But this also meant that he could look right through you with ease. Hiding your true feelings from him was impossible, but that also meant that he wouldn't confront you about it immideately. He simply observes your downfall in this suffocating and fast lifestyle before finally pulling you aside to see what the real issue is.

He sympathises with you deeply, mainly due to your young age and him knowing how hard it is to uphold a perfect appearance all the time. He keeps an eye on you closely, not letting you drown in your self-destructive methods, no matter how hard you fight him on the matter. He knows there is only just so much you can take before you break completely, after all.

Sunday eventually forces you to take a break from everything, where he takes you under his wing and essentially nurses you back into a healthy mental space. Whether he uses his abilities or not is really up to how well you respond to this, but he won't let you return to your life as an idol until he's convinced of your improvement.

》AVENTURINE

Aventurine could also easily see through your facade, mainly because, in a way, he very much related to you. You were young, forced into this fast life as an idol that seemed to only spiral downwards until you were barely able to keep up your perfectly strained smile. He understood you. He really did, which is why he wanted to help you in the first place. But he knew it wouldn't be an easy task at all.

You were hellbent on concealing your self-destructive ways, the question of what truly meant and felt like always hanging over your head, heavy on your young shoulders. He'd reach his hand out for you, offering to help you out of this hole life has unfairly dug for you, promising that it won't hurt your idol life. Unless escaping is what you wanted.

He becomes somewhat of a mentor/big brother figure to you, someone you can come to when the days get too dark and you need a bit of light to guide you back to the exit. He knows that with time, you'd eventually be able to deal with things on your own. But for now, he'll be there for you, just the way he wished someone would've been there for him all those years ago.

》JING YUAN

Jing Yuan is rather sly, yet at the same time, very stern with his approach to your obvious self-destructive demise. He knew from the start that your life as an idol would be plagued with uncertainties and sadness that a young teen like you could never handle on your own for long. But he waits for you to come to him first, like you knew you could. He didn't want to assume wrong and anger you, after all.

He doesn't have to wait for long, however, as you eventually break and come to him with the near ashamed plea of wanting to take a break and get help from everything that has been plaguing your young mind. The life of an idol wasn't easy, and he knew that, which is why he simply obliged and announced to the Luofu that you'd be taking an indefinite break from everything. Your happy-go-lucky attitude had been completely demolished by then, the guilt killing you, and yet he still didn't let you slip through his fingers and sink any further.

It doesn't matter how long it takes. You'll eventually come back to singing in much better health than ever before one way or another, him cheering you on quietly with a content smile from afar.

Alright, Anon... I'm sorry if this isn't good, I've been super busy with everything lately, so I hope this is alright!! Thank you again for the request!!<33

[miley1442111]

(part 7) choices on the court- a.donaldson

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

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

a/n: this is kind of a bad and i hate it but i need to post it to make the next part make sense so sorry that it's awful the next part is actually good i promise :) i'm posting them together but like... it just makes sense in my head ok sorry :)

summary: the confrontation where you find out about a few things. (dw there are more parts after this :))

pairing: art donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment and depression, hurt, cheating, sexual content, etc. +

PART 7 of 12

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

Art felt like his world had been crashing down around him for months even though he was getting what he wanted. He had Tashi (despite their break-up that lasted a week), he was going pro, and he had all the deals and things he wanted. But he didn't have you. He felt like a lonely idiot, and he lost a lot of enjoyment for things. Tennis was a job, not a passion. Seeing you on the courts, watching you work was the highlight of his days, thank god he had the Nike deal.

But it nagged at him. You were fucking Patrick. You were fucking Patrick even though he'd know about his infidelity and not told you, just like Art hadn't. What was so special about Patrick?

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

You stood on the court, Art on the other side. 

“You’re fucking Patrick?” He tried to keep his tone even, but he knew he failed by the way you served the ball. 

“Why do you care? You got Tashi, you got what you wanted,” you hit the ball back and forth with so much strength Art narrowly hit it back. 

"I never said I have anything I want," He hit the ball back.

"So what do you want? Two girls at the same time?" you scoffed. "Just admit that you're contented with your life and move on, it's fine Art, I'm happy for you and Tashi just like you should be happy for me and Patrick."

"So you and Patrick are a 'thing' now?" Art missed the ball, then served it back to you with a ridiculous amount of force. The tension on the court was aplpable, certain words being punctuated by the slap of the ball against your rackets. You were both angry. Though, he had no right to be. He'd cheated on you. He's the asshole.

"Yeah, we are," you shrugged. "Just like you and Tashi are a thing."

“I don’t want Tashi! I never wanted Tashi!” He shouted back, dropping his racket and ultimately ending the game. “I wanted- I want you.”

“Then why did you fuck her?” you asked mockingly, laughing in his face. “Oh yeah, because you’re a fucking asshole who never cared about me!” 

“I care about you!” He shouted back. “I care about you enough to tell you that Patrick isn’t good for you!”

“And how would you know that? At least he doesn’t cheat on me!”

“It’s not like he’s completely innocent either,” he scoffed. “He watched. He watched me fuck Tashi.”

Your heart broke for a third time. How could you be so stupid.

“What?” you asked, lowering your voice. You noticed Patrick out of the corner of your eye and Tashi entering from the other entrance. “Is that true? You three all knew and none of you told me?!”

There was silence on the court. 

“Fucking answer me!” you screamed. 

“Yeah. No one told you,” Tashi answered. 

“Great. Y’know, keep me out of your weird fucking threesome bullshit from now on, please? It really shouldn’t be that fucking hard, considering you all seemingly hate each other. Just keep your heads out of your cocks, alright?” You shouted storming off the court. 

There was a silence over the court for a few moments. 

Then;

“Fuck you!” Art screamed. 

“Oh fuck me? Fuck you!” Patrick laughed. “You broke her heart, all I did was break her fucking hymen!”

“Fuck both of you! You’re both assholes!” Tashi shouted from the bleachers.

The boys looked at each other. “Fuck us?” they said in unison.

“You’re the one who pitted us against each other for your attention, then made our careers about you,” Patrick commented.

“ Tashi, you’ve been awful to her. You tried to sabotage her biggest match,” Art mentioned. 

“Fuck you,” they said in unison once again. 

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

Three months later…

“Hey,” You smiled, feeling giddy from the copious amounts of alcohol you’d consumed. 

“Hey,” Art smiled back, just as drunk as you. 

You’d gone back to your dorm. You’d kissed him. It felt good. 

“I’m so sorry-” he tried to apologise for well… everything. But all you wanted was to have sex and pass out.

“Shush!” You hushed him and giggled, pulling off your t-shirt and bra. Art’s eyes widened, then he smirked. His lips latched onto yours as you undressed yourselves and landed on his bed. You laid back as Art took his time kissing you. Your lips, your face, your neck, your chest, your stomach, all the way down to your core. 

“Art,” you moaned. “Please.” 

The haziness of the alcohol was getting to him and he was beginning to feel much too tired, but he’d be damned if he let another chance with you pass him by. “What do you want, baby?”

“You,” you moaned breathlessly. “You.”

A sense of pride blossomed in Art's chest. You wanted him. You were with him. Here, he wasn't second best to Patrick, nor was he controlled by Tashi. He was with you. His dream girl. "You have me, baby."

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

You’d felt so stupid when Art wasn’t there in the morning. Why did you trust him? Why did he do that? 

Why, why why?

You two didn’t talk again. Well, not until about eleven years later. 

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

art donaldson masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

people who asked to be tagged :)

@fkaams

@emily-b

@yourmommycallsmemommy

@hrtsj1m

@januarycolor

[crazedear]

Arcane Timebomb fanfic recommendations

Omg! Look who's back after months of inactiveness on tumblr? Honestly I feel like I'm only coming back here after I find smth new to obsess over and need to satiate my cravings for content. It happened with staticradio, and now... TIMEBOMB??

I know I am not the only one who's mind have been taken over by this particular ship after the finale of Arcane season 2. It's one of those ships where its basically canon, but just the confirmation isn't enough to satisfy our hearts without the content along with it.

There is SO many fanarts out already (I am not complaining one bit) and although the Jinx x ekko tag has been growing exponentially on ao3, I haven't seen a lot of recent fanfic recommendation posts yet and I want to change that.

As always, please feel free to recommend me any other fanfic that you think can be added to the list! I want this list to be fully open to those who want to contribute.

To all the times I've dreamt of you

Written by: timebomblover (sibzzz)

Rated T

Words: 1,713 (Oneshot)

In the aftermath of tragedy, Ekko is left haunted by the memory of Jinx—his lost love, his greatest regret, and his deepest mystery. As grief consumes him, the signs begin to appear—whispers in the shadows, echoes in forgotten places, and fragments of a past he refuses to let go of. Could she still be alive? Or is his mind unraveling beneath the weight of what he’s lost? In a journey through pain, obsession, and hope, Ekko searches for the truth, ready to do anything to find out if his lover is truly out there somewhere.

Sunbeams

Written by: Multimousefanatic

Rated T

Words: 5,969 (Complete - Chapters 2/2)

If there had been any doubt in her mind before he said those words, it disappeared faster than Sevika’s arm. “Is that what all this is about? You want to forgive me?”

Like It's the Last Time

Written by: Zeezeepearl

Rated T

Words: 3,727 (Oneshot)

Jinx returns to Zaun, seeking Ekko's help. She has unfinished business, and he has very little time.

Got All Of Your Insides?

Written by: Lunar_Angel

Rated T

Words: 5,597 (Ongoing - Chapters 2/3)

Powder, Vi and Ekko have their last proper conversation. Powder and Ekko finally come clean about some long pent up feelings.

Hold me right here

Written by: kimekosu

Rated T

Words: 6,271 (Oneshot)

Ekko coped with her death by forcing himself to dream of his memories of her. Some were painful, while some reminded him of why he fell for her in the first place.

Then unexpectedly, the Anomaly popped into one of his dreams, offering him a chance to teleport himself right into a memory, where he could possibly alter her fate.

The Heart of Zaun

Written by: 1ts_Br1tney_B1tch

Not rated

Words: 25,286 (Ongoing - Chapters 6/?)

Silco felt wrath, pride, and respect battle within him as he witnessed the small band of Firelights—only 5 members strong, and not much older than children judging by their size—decimate his men and destroy yet another shipment of shimmer. Thousands of gold cogs wasted, money that would have been used to build his empire until it could stand against Piltover's council, and yet as he watched the green streaks through the sky, he couldn't help but think these Firelights were Zaunite to their core. These young rebels embodied the spirit of Zaun almost as much as his own daughter, Jinx.

He glanced down at her now, only to pause at the still expression on her face. Her gaze tracked one of the masked figures unerringly—the leader, if Silco was reading their dynamics right—eyes just a bit too wide, and her fingers twitched by her side. He'd seen her get like this before, when she was confronted with her past.

She knows him.

An idea begins to take shape in Silco's mind.

Or: Silco wants to recruit the Firelights. Too bad they hate his guts.

Genius and Madness

Written by: Malbec

Rated T

Words: 6,266 (Ongoing - Chapters 5/?)

Once Ekko comes back from the alternate universe, he meets Jinx again, only to find her in the verge of suicide. How can he convince her to keep living and stay to create a new life? What did Jinx and Ekko do next?

Taking a leap forward (means leaving a few things behind)

Written by: thefifthchris

Rated T

Words: 12,491 (Ongoing - Chapters 5/9)

Time slows. Four seconds. Ekko shouts. Something is wrong. There’s no time to think. Heimerdinger jumps out of the singularity, and, in his place–

Powder takes the leap.

In another timeline, Piltover tries to rebuild. No Hexgate, no fancy Hextech, nothing. Vi is familiar with this: raw labor, strength as its own language, sweat dripping between her shoulder blades. No, she thinks. There is no time to mourn.

A tale of two sisters. Even worlds apart, they'll still always find each other.

Powder & Ekko (& Timebomb) Collections

Written by: Rhyagelle

Not rated

Words: 158,197 (Ongoing - Chapters 48/?)

This is a collection of various Powder and Ekko themed flashbacks/stories, ranging from one-shots to multi-parts or full part chapters. There will be chapters dealing with just one of them or the other, as well as any kind of Timebomb content (meaning, chapters with both of them, together). It's to dig into the very adorable and dorky friendship the two very clearly possessed, as well as what might have been like for them during their childhood, before everything turned to shit. And yes, if it's not clear, there will be Ekko x Powder! It's just not the ONLY focus (but it is in my heart <3).

(I didn't find this fanfic myself and I actually got it from @lady-griffin's Timebomb recommendation post from 2 years ago. This was just one of my favs from their list I just had to include it in a more recent post so more people can see it. Please go check out her own list)

The Risk of Fall

Written by: Sapphic_Jezus

Rated T

Words: 9,891 (Ongoing - Chapters 2/?)

“Vi.” Mylo or Claggor—it doesn’t matter who—speaks up, and Vi turns to them, her panic spilling into the room.

“We can’t just leave her,” Claggor says evenly, his voice steady as a rock. He meets her eyes, unflinching. “She’s not safe here either. If they come for her…”

Or; What if they didn't just leave Ekko and Powder behind?

.

.

.

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I know, I know, It's very short, dont come for me. I'm tryna focus on quality more than quantity yall, gimme time to load up my arsenal!

Anyways yeh! feel free to recommend me stuff to add, it can be anywhere, from ao3, wattpad, fanfic.net, etc. go crazy.

[twilightkitkat]

Hi, first of all, I want to tell you that I adore your stories and ideas, I love your content and you are one of my favorite Poolverine /Deadclaws writers ♥️♥️♥️♥️

1. I have a question, will you continue the story where the X-Men react to Logan and Wade's happy relationship, will you leave poor Logan alone? Or will they try to sabotage their relationship to get "their" Wolverine back and try (in vain) to fix things with him?

2. I would like to see the Avengers' reaction when they find out that Steve knows Logan, I have a feeling that knowing that he is no longer part of the X-Men, they would try to get him to join them, but Logan's answer would be a definitive NO, mainly because neither team wants Wade, Logan won't go anywhere without him, on the contrary, the two of them would show others what a real team is.

Thank you very much for your attention and I hope I have not made any mistakes in my writing 🥺♥️

Omg, thank you so much ♥️♥️♥️ it means a lot to know that people like my writing and that my blog has become one of your favorites.

I've been considering making a sequel to it with a different scenario and continuing to write about how the X-men adjust to this new Logan. While a few of them (Rogue and Colossus) know that Logan doesn't want to return and why, the rest would have a more difficult time accepting it.

I think that the X-men tend to view Logan's feelings as secondary and subconsciously look down on him. They treat themselves as more important and prioritize their feelings and perspectives over Logan's, which was reinforced in the movies. The best word to describe them is egocentric—they don't consciously think that they're above Logan and not all have high self-esteem, but they tend to have difficulties empathizing with him and seeing things from his perspective.

However, I don't think they're intentionally malicious. They wouldn't see what they're doing as "sabotage" because they want the best for Logan (in their eyes), but they would try to separate him from Wade to convince him that they're right. They'd see it as a necessary evil and think that there needs to be a divide because Wade has influenced him. However, in reality, they just feel uncomfortable seeing Logan act so close to Wade because it forces them to confront the way they treated him and how he never acted like that. They also aren't very receptive to change in their social order, and Logan breaking off is a pretty big one.

As for the Avengers' reaction, I think it'd be one of shock. Captain America isn't just the Poster Boy of America, he's the symbolic leader of the Avengers. He's this strong, moral, righteous figure who doesn't show weakness and always looks ahead. He opens up just enough to form an emotional connection with them, but he largely keeps his deeper feelings and doubts to himself.

So when Logan shows up and Steve acts less like a figurehead and more like a person, it's... uncanny. Not necessarily bad, but unnerving. They aren't used to seeing Steve relax and laugh and show genuine emotion. When the two reminisce on the past, Steve's face becomes clouded with nostalgia and regret, and when Logan places a hand on his shoulder Steve leans into it gratefully. He smiles and relaxes and the Avengers feel like they're seeing a new side of Steve, a glimpse into the scared and mortal soldier he was instead of the unstoppable hero he became.

Aside from Logan, they know about The Wolverine. They know about his feats and strengths and a few have worked alongside him in the past. He has an impressive resume, and if he hadn't been swept away by the X-men then the Avengers would've taken him in gladly.

Except now, he isn't part of the X-men. So the Avengers ask. It's a perfect fit, really. Logan is strong and capable and has a strong moral compass, he'd fit right in. Throw in the added bonus of being friends with Steve and being able to comfort him and it's a done deal.

Except... Logan refuses. Point blank.

The rest of the Avengers blink owlishly, but Steve gives an understanding smile and nod of the head. When they ask why, his answer drops their jaws even further.

"You rejected Wade, and he's my partner. I'm not joining any fucking team he's not a part of," Logan grumbles.

And that's how the Avengers find out that apparently, The Wolverine was partners with Deadpool. A few had heard rumors from the underground that The Wolverine had been doing vigilante work alongside Deadpool, but they'd thought it was a temporary thing. Something to repay his debt and occupy his time until he found another team. It makes sense that Logan didn't want to rejoin the X-men, he had a lot of history with them, but he shouldn't have an issue joining a better team. There's no way he'd be attached to Deadpool of all people, right?

But that was exactly the case. The Wolverine was apparently dedicated to spending the rest of his days in this universe by Deadpool's side. The tips of his ears turn red when he talks about Wade, and Steve has a knowing and private smile when he listens to him. (He'd anticipated this. How could he not, after meeting Wade and seeing how Logan looked at him like he was his whole world? It'd be nice to work with Logan again, but Steve was fine with settling for the occasional team-up. He wouldn't want to separate them.)

It's... a bit of a blow to the ego, to be honest. To know that The Wolverine chose Deadpool over them like it was obvious. That he didn't even think twice about their offer. To know that Logan thought someone they rejected was more valuable to work with than them.

They thought he was crazy until they saw the pair in action.

Witnessing the easy and impeccable teamwork between Logan and Wade was like watching lightning strike. The two moved with a fluidity the Avengers had never seen before, weaving in and out of each other's attacks like they were telepathically connected. Logan's strength balanced Wade's speed, and when Logan would slash Wade would shoot. They were terrifyingly fast and efficient, cutting through the enemies like butter.

It's in that moment that they understand why The Wolverine chose Deadpool over them. He was right in his choice.

[luimagines]

Honestly, if the chain were to go to the age of calamity era Wild would likely freak out. Just, him not remembering what hyrule was like before the calamity probably made him not fully aware to the extent of it all and now to be placed right in it, the guilt would crash into him full force.

Every corner would probably be compared to to his hyrule as it is now and when they get to the place he spent most of his time he would be hit with memories all the time.

When he meets that version of himself and the champions he would likely feel shame (even though he really likes how he is now) at not having been able to do the same. It's likely also really confronting to see the old champions alive. To see those that recognize him with such sympathetic smiles, it's a lot to handle and likely needs some time alone.

Cal (aoc link) would likely see wild with so much sympathy and respect. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to go through that all (and he likely doesn't know that they didn't send the little robot). He was only able to avoid the calamity because of the warning the robot gave and because of the new champions helping them to fight the calamity.

He frankly is also jealous of how Wild is able to like he does. He feels he can't, it's not in his job description after all and he's the hero. Even now the pressure of being the hero is a lot and is still leaving him nearly mute.

When Cal joins the chain it's rather awkward in the beginning. After all, he's basically wild while at the same time he isn't. Wild walks around him with a good few meters between them. There's shame and envy between the both of them and they need to talk it out. Both aren't inclined to do this, but Cal bites the bullet and admits he's jealous of how Wild can talk to anyone he wants to. Doesn't feel like his mouth gets sown shut whenever someone he respects is in front of him. (Cal does have a lot of difficulty socializing with the other heroes. Attempts were made by both sides, but it was just rather awkward.)

Wild is probably a little baffled by the way his 'original' self is jealous of him of all people. It makes him chuckle and asks if he's for real?

Cal nods and says he's having a difficult time and if he could help him out.

This makes wild silent for a while before he finally asks if Cal is not ashamed of him. "How could I? I barely survived due to help from your era. If anything I have a lot of respect for you."

This made Wild feel relieved and a lot lighter. The person he thought would judge him the most didn't. He was even jealous of him!

After this their interactions become a lot smoother. Wild includes cal in conversations a lot while Cal shares memories that Wild would ask for. It's where Wild finds out he had a little sister coincidentally called aryll which Wind hears and makes him very excited! Blabbering about his sister and comparing the two. Both Cal and Wild feel content in that moment.

Eventually the chain would call them the twins.

Agreed! I had a daydream once where the chain ended up in Cal's era but Wild was the most at risk.

Everywhere he would turn (more or less) would just ignite another memory and leave him out of commission. Especially since a lot of the building are still standing and what not.

You're right about Cal being jealous over Wild's ability to just be.

But I don't think Wild would be able to look the other living champions in the eye. He'd probably ask how they survived. When they mention the little robot, he'd be so confused. It starts to make a little more sense that everyone didn't make it without the robot- heck, they barely made it even with the robots help.

Wild would probably be less award around Cal after the initial ice is broken though. Probably try to get him to break his stupid mask over something as dumb as eating rocks (again).

But after a while, he'd see that he really hasn't changed that much. Because despite everything, it's still him.

[giantchasm]

Hello. May you like to share any recent Susie-isms on your brain 👁👁

(Or any Kirby blorbo honestly. I just like your character vibes)

OUUUGHHHH. SUSIE MY FRIEND SUSIE. SHE'S EVERYTHING TO ME.

(Sorry this answer is a few days late, but I really do have a lot of thoughts about her)

Recently I've been thinking abt her relationship w mechanization a lot recently. I know it's left ambiguous in canon whether or not she's actually part machine, but she's suuuuch a robotgirl to me.

This bitch has a microchip in her brain and mechanical hands and big scary LED eyes. But also they're kinda cute and when she's choosing how to get dressed up every day she can decide on different colors and even symbols like hearts in her eyes to match whatever cute and/or unhinged vibe she's going for.

She's only part robot, but sometimes she wishes she were all robot. Life would be easier if she was perfect and unfeeling and cold and didn't make mistakes. But sadly she can't fully mechanize herself because then "She'd effectively die," and while she sometimes wonders if that would be for the best (Replacing herself with a better version of herself and all), she knows it would unfortunately make her friends sad.

Even though she's not a real robot she uses it/its pronouns sometimes and has an acronym picked out for what S.U.S.I.E allegedly stands for because she likes feeling like a machine anyways.

She has a complicated relationship with her robotics sometimes because for a long time she was convinced they made her superior to everyone else, but now that she's learning that's not true and that mechanization was apparently "a horrific thing to do to people," she occasionally wonders if people see her as some kind of freak.

But she tries not to think about it! She's better than everyone else, OK? She has to believe that. Or else she'll spiral.

Although most of her is mechanical and because of that she can't feel super well, one of her hands is still flesh and secretly she likes it when people hold it.

She thinks about her dad a lot. Her relationship with him is soooo complicated. Sometimes she hates him, but she misses him just as much. There's so much anger mixed in with crushing sadness. She wonders if he'd despise her for everything she did. She can't really blame him. She despises him too. Doesn't make it any easier, though. And so she just. Tries not to think about it. And fails.

Taranza (He's her best friend, ok?) tells her it's okay to let herself grieve and process those complicated feelings, but that's not always easy for her. She doesn't even know where to begin.

She's a loser. An unhinged, emotionally damaged wreck of a woman. Someone in the fandom as of late has taken to referring to her as 'Losie' and they're so right. I need less content of Susie actually being a girlboss and more content of Susie desperately trying to pretend to be a girlboss while actually just barely pretending to cling to her sanity with her fingernails.

Susie's interesting to me in that she like. Wears a mask on top of a mask. She pretends to be this honestly pretty nice silly cutesy unbothered chick to people she doesn't know well, but in 'reality,' she sees herself as this realistic, unbothered, cynical and strong person. But she's not that either. She's fooling even herself. Deep down, what Susie is is a scared, angry, sad little girl. Like she's not a little girl anymore-- she's a grown woman, but she'll always be the same scared little girl who got lost in Another Dimension. And she hates that fact. So she won't acknowledge it.

Funfact: in my headcanons when she first started going by 'Susie' it was when she initially got back from Another Dimension. After being forced to confront the fact that her dad didn't recognize her and being mechanized to join the company, she decided that the old Susanna was dead and she was someone new. Someone who would never cry again. She's not, but it's nice to pretend.

I also like to think she literally can't cry anymore-- LED eyes and all. Doesn't mean she doesn't want to sometimes, though.

She hates it when anyone calls her Susanna. Except Taranza. He can get away with it occasionally.

He, Magolor, Kirby and the Mage Sisters are her closest friends. She doesn't really like to admit it, but they're her buddies... even if there was some strife between her and the Mage Sisters at one point (I wrote a whole fic about this. I'm working on making it presentable to upload)

She pretends she doesn't like Magolor, but she does. See: this idea I came up with the other night and still can't get off my mind.

But then after that they pretend they didn't have a moment. NO, Kirby. You DIDN'T find them quivering and holding hands. Shut up.

Susie is weirdly liked amongst her employees. She's not even that good of a boss. Like she's a cold, calculating bitch. But after Star Dream shut down a lot of the technology that kept mechanized people functioning and alive started shutting down and she fixed all of the Haltworkers one by one. She didn't think anything of it-- she was just trying not to lose valuable workers, which would be a stupid waste of money, but now they love her. I think more than anything she just seems like an okay boss in comparison because Haltmann was so hilariously mean to his employees when in reality she's still pretty draconian.

She's trying to do better now, though! She's learning to care about 'ethics.'

When she was 7 years old and before she experienced the horrors she read Space Warrior Cats. Space Warrior Cats is exactly like real Warrior Cats except every character has 'Space' in front of their name (I.E. "Space Firestar.)

I love this hot pink bitch named breakfast.

[gabessquishytum]

I had an idea for a priest!Hob and demon!Dream au that I just had to share. I was thinking about Catholic theology while watching a ghost hunting video that involved demons (as one does), and it got me thinking. So if hell is supposed to be the absence of god, and god is supposed to be essentially the personification of love, then wouldn't the best protection from demons would be to push your fear aside and choose to love and want the best for them? Which this train of thought of course led me to dreamling.

So basically Hob is a preist who for some reason, has recently been dealing with random supernatural occurrences. Like random knocks, sometimes he wakes up with scratches, sometimes he hears footsteps in the hallway, once he even saw a shadow figure. Now to start he's pretty content to deny that anything is happening. Around the same time, this impossibly beautiful man starts hanging around I guess the church, though he never actually enters the sanctuary. Now Hob is completely baffled by this man because he seems to know theology pretty well but is unashamedly flirting with Hob and Hob is confused cause well he's a priest. This man, Hob soon learns his name is Dream, is also very scornful of religion and it's not too long before Hob gets the distinct impression that Dream is trying to get Hob to sleep with him and trying to lead Hob astray. At first Hob is a bit angry and confronts Dream about it. Dream gets defensive and says something about that Hob's god won't him from the demon that's been haunting him. Hob goes pale. He never told anyone that there'd been anything supernatural, because he seemed to be the only one experiencing anything. So he thought that he must be imagining things. How could Dream know. Dream realizes that he fucked up and leaves.

It takes some time for Hob to process the whole thing but after lots of thinking and maybe some praying cause wtf he's pretty sure the pretty man who's been flirting with him is an actual demon, he calms down a bit. Hob does a mental run through of every demonic incident that he's had since Dream started hanging around, he also thinks about his interactions with Dream. Dream just seemed so intelligent and funny. He was prone to lashing out and Hob had witnessed him say cruel things before, but Hob had been sure that there's more to him than that. After all, most cruelty comes from pain. But after thinking everything through, Hob is pretty sure that Dream didn't want to hurt him. And Hob comes to a similar conclusion as I did and that the best thing to protect yourself from a demon or even to heal the demon is to love them.

So the next time Dream shows up, Hob welcomes him with open arms and invites him for dinner at his house. Dream is very confused. Over the next few months, Dream lashes out a lot in ways that he didn't before Hob started being extra kind to him. Hob is very patient, he never forces Dream to go anywhere or do anything doesn't want to and never invites him to mass like he might have before because well, Dream's a demon. Eventually Dream accepts that apparently he has a friend who's a preist now. Which is not really something demons are supposed to do, but then again, Lucifer became the devil cause he rebelled and broke the rules, so why should Dream listen to the rules here?

About a year or so into this new arrangement, about a year and a half after they met, Dream starts to change visibly. He's fallen rather ill and is weaker than he ever was, but at the same time was also visibly happier. Dream, in one of the rare times that he talked about his emotions, confided in Hob that he was having more and more trouble returning to hell and was less and less welcomed there by other demons. Hob for his part was struggling with his chosen path in life. The stress of running a church was getting to him and most of the time he'd rather be with his friend who he had offered his home to if he didn't want to go back to hell (Dream wouldn't admit it but he didn't really want to go back). Hob was also rather frustrated with the way the Catholic church was run at times, as much as he believed in the theology behind it, there were lots of things, such as the church's stance on trans people and abortion, that he just couldn't stand anymore. He also more or less had a crush on his demon friend.

It becomes clear soon enough that Dream is losing some of his demonic abilities. Like he can't change his appearance as easily as he used to, now he's stuck between his demon form and his human form that he's had trouble alternating between (maybe also his cat form too cause imagine him stuck as meowpheus). But at the same time, he's not as weak anymore, he's in less pain than he became a demon, and the biggest difference is that he's happier. Of course he does have an existential crisis because of the whole thing and is not sure why it's happening. Hob, who by this time had basically decided that he was going to stop being a priest explains his theory to Dream. Dream being Dream of course responds with something along the lines of "I was not made to be loved" and Hob is like, "I don't care, I love you anyway" and kisses him right then and there. When Hob has to breathe, Dream admits that he loves Hob too and that he shouldn't be able to and it's against his nature and he can't change and YET he does love Hob and he has changed.

Hob soon formally quits being a priest and Dream becomes less and less demonic as time goes on (except when they have sex, Hob is certain that Dream still is part demon but only when they're having sex) and he and Dream run away together happily ever after.

Anyway, enjoy this random idea that popped into my head today

I'm getting Good Omens vibes, which is probably because the season 2 trailer arrived today! But also because I love the idea of a domesticated demon. 10/10, great trope. Especially if the demon still has a demon form. With a lovely eldritch tongue.

Also: Hob rejecting the Catholic Church and choosing love and worship and belief on his own terms? Fantastic, sexy, I love it. Thank you so much for sending this, it's a great addition to the demon!Dream saga!

[taffytm]

@fluggedup (continued from here):

Today had been a day like no other, where Randy had to force himself to become comfortable in the body of another person. His friend's brother, and apparently, Tiffany's friend. Randy had no idea that Tiffany and Dewey were friends, which wouldn't have been that weird normally... but between the bracelet in Dewey's room and the heart eye emojis next to her name in his phone, Randy couldn't help but be suspicious. Lucky for him, this weird day gave him the opportunity to find out the truth for himself. He'd confront it without her even knowing. His girlfriend seemed to be in an extra good mood today, which he wasn't sure was a good or bad thing. Was it because he wasn't around all day? It was actually refreshing though, seeing her not annoyed at him and genuinely smiling, to the point that he couldn't even be bothered about it. Instead, he tried being extra friendly to her as Dewey, testing the waters to see how she'd respond. It was hard to tell what the vibe was, especially since he'd never actually seen Tiff and Dewey hang out in the past. He smiled as she denied flirting, sort-of relieved but also planning to keep pushing a little bit, just to make sure. "Friendly? Well, I can be friendly too," he replied, smile still present. He wasn't even sure what to do, normally not so awkward as himself, but he wasn't himself. He didn't know what to do with his hands, unsure of how to be natural around his girlfriend when she thought he was someone else. Maybe he should put them in a different environment, something almost date-like. "Uhh .. Wanna get some fro-yo? I've kinda had a sweet tooth all day."

After waking up with a terrible hangover, Randy’s mood had changed remarkably fast, bouncing back way quicker than Tiff was used to seeing. He’d surprised her by wanting to spend the whole day together and he’d been so uncharacteristically doting and excitable that it was a breath of fresh air compared to the state of decline their relationship had been in for longer than they cared to admit to themselves or others. It was hard to deny now—and maybe they truly hadn’t even seen it at first because they’d been together so long and the issues were too deep-seated—but for a long time they’d been acting like the tension, jealousy, arguments and growing resentment between them were totally normal and acceptable in a relationship.

Dewey was someone who had been challenging that status quo lately, making Tiffany question what it was that she deserved from a partner, what she wanted, and whether those needs were being met with her current boyfriend. It wasn’t him saying anything along those lines directly to her, but just the way he treated her that made her feel so different from Randy. By the time he messaged her to meet up today, she had actually been feeling more content than she had in a while with Randy, but he’d had to go meet a friend himself, so they planned to get back together later and Tiff was free to hang out with Dewey for a bit.

Of course she knew he was interested in her, but he was turning up the direct flirtation even more than usual, pushing the boundaries of what was justifiable banter between two friends before she’d actually have to put her foot down and remind him that she was taken. If Tiffany was truly honest with herself, deep down she didn’t want to reject Dewey. She wanted to keep this—whatever this light, fun thing was between them—going for as long as possible, despite being with Randy at the end of the day…It was selfish, but she wasn’t ready to leave him yet, wasn’t one hundred percent sure beyond a doubt that it was the only option, and today of all days had proven that with how happy Randy had been making her so far. Even if Dewey was something special on his own.

“Mm, I could go for some fro-yo,” she agreed, deciding not to address his comment about how he could be friendly too. She wasn’t sure whether or not that meant he was going to ramp up the flirting he seemed to think she was guilty of, but his tone certainly suggested it. Subtlety wasn’t really in his nature. “Do you wanna go to the same place as last time or try something new?”

[moneneki]

An unlikely ally

Pairing: Azula/Jet Rating: T Summary: After a betrayal that scattered everything Azula had built inside Ba Sing Se, she starts to make a new plan.

A short fic for Week 1: Forced to work together/Sickfic/There was only one bed of @atlararepairmonth!

Also, it looked like a particularly good day for some antimonarchist sentiment lol

Scrunching her nose, she didn’t contain the disdain with which she looked around the rickety room. It smelled like dust and misery, like most of the Lower Ring, and it looked much the same way. There was barely any furniture, save from a low table and a couple of small squared tatamis. The window was covered with a crude wooden blind, and she could smell mould on the walls underneath.

She wanted to complain; the petty corner of her mind, the one that was used to get the finest silk gold could buy for draperies that wouldn't even touch her skin, itched at the sharp words gathering in her throat. But she also knew that she had a mission, and that her personal comfort was not paramount to achieve it; therefore, it needed to be discarded.

The silhouette of the one remaining Dai Li guarding outside their lousy hideout provided less relief than she would have liked. He was moving. She observed, tense and ready. At least half of the Dai Li were now back on Long Feng's side…

“Princess, we got some food,” he whispered from the other side of the paper-thin wall.

She exhaled a silent sigh.

“You may bring it in,” she commanded, taking a brief look at the immobile, unconscious runaway next to her. He'd probably need to eat something as soon as he woke up. The problem was, she didn’t know if he’d be able to stomach any kind of solid food.

It had been a rushed decision, taken in a split second, to bring him along while fleeing the Earth Palace. She’d recognized him from the Dai Li reports, back when all of them responded to her. Before the incident in the catacombs; her authority had been undermined one inch too far and so many things had collapsed around her…

Her unexpected companion shifted, bringing her attention back to him. The boy with the hook swords was a trouble-maker, an agitator the Dai Li had finally caught after he’d made a too-bold confrontation with some ‘firebenders’ in the Lower Ring. He hadn’t been wrong; maybe he'd be glad to know that.

His movement prompted her back to action, and she reached for the bag the agent had just left in front of her. One look was enough; the food was somehow worse than the house. The round shape of the bread (she assumed it was supposed to be a steamed bun) made it hard to bite, and its hardness made it impossible. Nevertheless, she persevered and managed to take a chunk off, chewing methodically on the resulting sawdust.

There was a crude ceramic pot inside, and one cup. She decided she'd use it before he needed it, and served herself some of the content. A preliminary sniffing made her suspect it was supposed to be tea.

Rearranging herself on the tatami next to him, she cradled the cup of tea in her hands. She could feel her fingertips warming up, a sign of the chi-blocking wearing off. Those two traitors! It was Zuko's fault, not to align with the right side! Mai and Ty Lee should have let destiny run its course! No wonder she had lost the Dai Li's respect; who would be loyal to a princess whose two closer collaborators betrayed her?

As quickly as she could, she shot down the shock and indignation, the boundless anger, the… 

The hurt.

She buried that word. Hurt meant weakness, and she was not weak. She couldn't afford to; weakness meant dishonor, and dishonor meant disapproval in a world where being in the Firelord's good graces was everything.

Damn them! Mai and Ty Lee turning against her inside Lake Laogai, out of some misplaced sense of 'love', had thrown all of Azula's plans out of their course. It made the Dai Li doubt her, gave Long Feng enough footing to reclaim part of his forces and had left Azula in a more compromised position than she had ever wanted to be, without her bending and relying only on half of a force that ought to remain united.

As her cup let out the first thread of steam, he groaned and blinked, finally waking up.

Predictably spooked, but also bound by the severity of his injuries (some of the younger Dai Li agents could be too harsh), he made an unsuccessful attempt to get away from her.

“Who are you? What is this place? Last thing I saw was the Avatar and that firebender…”

Oh, so he already knew.

“We are back in Ba Sing Se,” was all she said. The rest of the information needed to be dosed carefully. “The Avatar flew away with his friends and his bison.”

The spark of hurt betrayal in his eyes was deeply satisfactory to notice.

“You were wounded, and I thought you were worth helping,” she looked at him.

Indeed, this particular peasant had also managed to become an important figure within the Lower Ring underbelly. A coup orchestrated at the top hadn't worked; one coming from the bottom, from the very foundations…

“Who are you?”

“My name is not important,” she put down the cup of cold tea. “I just share your interests.”

“What do you know about me and my interests?” he bit back, like a cornered animal.

It worked for Azula.

“Oh, some things,” she smiled. “I know you want this city to be free of tyranny…” she shrugged in apparent indifference, and observed with satisfaction the darkening of his frown. “I know you, like many, are tired of monarchs and kings telling you what to do.”

She picked up the teacup again, satisfied at the now uniform heat on her fingertips. 

“You're one of them,” he growled, pointing at her now steaming cup of tea. She didn't try to deny it. “Why do you care to help us?”

“You are right,” she answered, sipping from her cup. “I am a firebender. But bending is not always a show of allegiance, as you might have come to suspect from some of your Lower Ring acquaintances.”

Azula knew for sure that some of the former sympathizers of Jeong Jeong –the old fool– had taken refuge in Ba Sing Se, and frequented the same circles as this self-appointed freedom fighter.

He still didn't seem convinced.

“Suffice to say, I am very invested in seeing the people at the top of this city falling down,” she sipped the mediocre, diluted tea in her cup with complete calmness.

And only after that I may claim this city for my father.

However, he didn't need to know that.

“Do we have a deal?” she extended one hand.

He didn't take it. 

“I don't trust you.” The obvious suspicion on his glare revealed the rush going on inside his mind. “But you could have killed me while I was out. I will cooperate with you this once. Then we’ll see.” 

She smirked; despite his youth, Jet was a better player than Long Feng, she could already sense it in his words. 

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged. “You will see that you can really use my help.”

He snorted.

“It seems to me that you need mine too.”

His words made her smirk widen. She liked this guy… and maybe her respect for him rose an inch.

It would be interesting working with him to make Ba Sing Se fall.

[metalheadsimp]

<Roses >

Anakin x (gn)reader (implied Obi-wan x reader) AU

Inspired by 'Roses' by Awaken I am (Or I stole two(maybe three??) lines from the song)

Genre : Angst/hurt-ish (no comfort in this so buckle up folks)

Warnings : Reader and Ani started dating as teenagers! also my first fic and not proof read so proceed with caution or whatever, Oh and Qui-gonn is not dead here and Ahsoka is his padawan. Written in first person. I am not a native speaker.

Readers gender isn't mentioned, however idk if I used any pronouns or something that might gender them in any way so I won't tag them as gender neutral. (While writing I thought of a female reader since I am a woman myself, I intended to keep them gn tho. I hope I succeeded)

Wordcount : 1.2k

Anakin and reader have been in a relationship for as long as reader can remember. It has always been comforting but they find themself confronted with the realization that they only loved the Idea of being happy with someone else.

<begins under the cut>

"Is this fair? I feel that we're close to the end."

"Roses don't know that they're dead." 

Whenever I closed my eyes it wasn't him I saw. It was nothing new really, at some point I got used to it the same way I got used to sleeping in his arms, to kissing him. I got used to sleeping with him. But I never got used to him. I never got used to Anakin. I loved him. I truly did. But I didn't crave him, I didn't ache for him. When he was near I was content, I felt safe but I was bored. He was funny and smart and sassy and charismatic and chaotic and I loved him. I know he loved me. It just all became so complicated. We went down the wrong path together.

I don't even remember how we became a couple, we've always been friends. At some point we just happened to be more. No questions asked, no answers given. We just were more and I knew He's always loved padmé. Just as I knee that I've never loved him and he’s never loved me. Not like that. We shouldn't be more than friends. We never should have become more than friends. Now we're so deep into this, I feel we're close to the end. I fear we won't get out of this alright.

So here I am. In my Boyfriends arms. We've been sleeping like this for years now. I don't know how many. And I am thinking about someone else I know I really shouldn't. Not because I'm in a relationship. No, I know Anakin's thoughts are with padmé too. He says her name in his sleep. I shouldn't think about him because he is like a brother to my boyfriend. He is my mentor. He has raised Anakin and He has trained us for 5 years now. I still can remember the first time I saw him, like the day I lost my home. It's vivid. When I close my eyes it's all I dream about and I'm scared I might say his name in my sleep, like Anakin does with padmé.

As Anakin's friend I want him to let go of whatever is keeping him here. I want him to leave me and court the woman he truly desires, As his girlfriend who his in love with someone else I want him to leave so he doesn't get hurt but As myself and myself only, no roles attached, I need him. I need him. He was there for me when I lost my home and He held my hand and told me about his mother. He told me about padmé and of course He told about him. Then he had asked me if I wanted to come with him. He'd hide me. He had promised. But the force had other things in mind for me and so, I met him too. Back then I was scared and I was weak so Anakin told me he was scared too. He held me during the night. He showed me tricks, he helped me train when I failed. He understood me. But now he doesn't. Or maybe he does. 

We were so young. I was only 14. He was 16. Now I feel like what we had never exceeded friendship in the direction that we took. He knows. I know. And I know that he knows that I know. I remember my 16 birthday. We were so unsure. We needed love. We needed affection. Now we don't even kiss anymore. We haven't kissed in ages. I hope we never do. I wish we never did. 

Lately I've been training alone. I've been eating alone. I've been trying to ignore him. I've been trying to find a way out of this. Anakin and I are so familiar. I can't lose him. But it can't stay like this. So I've asked him if I could train with Master Qui-Gonn Jinn and Ahsoka instead. He was fine with it. He had asked me why, but I just told him I'd just like experience outside of my fights side by side with him and Obiwan. 

I turn around. Away from Anakin. Eyes wide open, I can't see him now. I should just keep my eyes open forever. I can’t be haunted by the picture of Obiwan if I keep my eyes open.

"Y/n?" Anakin’s voice is soft. Quiet. So I turn onto my back, staring into darkness. I hum.

"Do you... do you ever feel like we're fading?"

"Like what we have is fading? Or like you and I, as people, are fading?" I hear bedsheets move. 

"I love you.-"

"I know."

"- But I feel like what we have is fading. Like we shouldn't have this."

"I know."

"I can't lose you."

"I can't lose you either, Ani."

"You won't." I feel him sit up. "But maybe- maybe we shouldn't keep doing this."

"We aren't really doing anything anymore. We never got together, we don't have to break up." I want him to leave. I want him to stay.

"Right."

"Do you want to? Breaking up would feel like acknowledging that… that we went down a wrong path when we were young." I reach for him. He isn't there.

"Ani?" Now I feel his hand taking mine.

"I wish we never did what we did on your 16th birthday."

"Me too."

We stay silent after that. I don't feel him lay down again but time passes and I start to wonder what's going on inside his head. No, I think I know.

"What about Padmé?"

"What about her?"

"Well do you still love her?"

"I am sorry."

"Ani c‘mon. I know. Always did." I force out a chuckle.

I don't know how this is going to end. I can't imagine not being this intimately comfortable with him. I can't imagine being strangers either. Whatever we do, we'll always see each other. We'll always remember that we were partners once. We'll always dread meeting each others new partners. We'll always feel like we have to prove to each other that we can stop this. That we can be friends. That what we felt was never romantic. That all we were, was just two sad children clinging onto each other. Needing safety that no one else could provide. Grasping for a happiness we didn't know how to find in ourselves. And now, that we both found happiness in ourselves, do we still need each other? Do I even know the man in front of me? Why is he still that child to me? Will we ever forget? When did we realize we didn't love one another? When did I notice the things I hate about him? When did I realize all I loved was the Idea of what we could be, what we could have been?

My head hurts.

He breathes out. He breathes in.

"Is this fair? I feel like we're close to the end." I watch him. Or I stare into the directions his voice is coming from.

"Roses don't know when they're dead." He's silent again.

"I will return to my chambers."

"Yes."

I hear him move around. He doesn't turn on the lights so I don't offer to turn on the lights. After five minutes of being alone, I begin to cry. I have to cry. I cry so much my head pounds. I mourn the children we were. I mourn the safety I felt. I mourn being able to make my happiness depend on someone else. I mourn not knowing how it feels to be without him. I mourn for every second of my life that I spent pretending to love him. I mourn for every second of my life in which I made my happiness depend on him. I let myself mourn for 20 minutes. Then I begin to fear the future without him. After that I turn over in my bed and go to sleep. Alone in the chambers I had shared for years. A decade maybe? I can’t remember.

[theclaravita]

This problem is particularly prevalent in group homes and foster care.

I've had mental and physical health problems my entire life that people just kinda... Ignore? I'd love accommodation and assistance, but people refusing to acknowledge it is better than what happened when I was a kid.

As an adult, people generally won't look at you like "YOU FUCKED UP. YOU IDIOT. BETRAYAL!" because there's a non-zero chance you could just knock their fucking teeth out. Adults are scary to confront because they're... Adults.

But nobody is afraid of yelling at a child.

Why do we hold children to this standard of "you should know better" and yet adults get a pass like "eh whatever".

In the foster homes I grew up in, I couldn't ever tell the staff members that I had an accident in my pants or threw up in the bathroom or couldn't sleep.

If I had an accident it was CLEARLY because I was lazy or refused to go to the bathroom... Even though I've had a health condition my entire life where I have accidents on the reg.

If I threw up it was CLEARLY because I overate or was sneaking late-night snacks... Even though I was forced to be on medications I was allergic to and that wasn't even something the MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS WHO PRESCRIBED THE MEDS thought of.

If I couldn't sleep it was CLEARLY because I was staying up all night reading or playing GameBoy... Even though I was constantly having panic attacks, paranoid hallucinations, and various physical symptoms that made me unable to sleep more than an hour at a time.

I was blamed for every bad thing that happened to me, regardless of circumstance.

So now, as an adult with responsibilities and bills to pay, I don't talk to ANYONE about troubles I'm having. I just nut up and shut up, like I was TAUGHT BY MY ELDERS AS A CHILD.

"You can tell me anything!" ...translated to... "If you say the wrong words to me I will yell at you and take your privileges away and lock you in your room for three days."

Here's a list of things that my closest friends don't even know, and that comic has made me fucking infuriated I've never shared. I will also include why I've never shared them with anyone.

CONTENT WARNINGS rape | sexual, emotional, and physical abuse | suicide | life crises

I was held hostage in my own home in 2014 by a group of homeless drug sellers who beat me, dislocated my shoulder, tied me up, and raped me repeatedly. I've always been told that I was lying whenever I've talked about any of the crazy/bad things that have happened to me.

I was raped by my best friend in 2015 after he attempted suicide in my bed. Everyone in my friend group in California turned this around on me and blamed me for his suicide attempts before and after I fled the state. The concept that he'd raped me was never even considered a possibility; he was CLEARLY the victim, not me. I was just a "narcissistic liar" who abused him to kill himself.

My mother stole money from me my grandfather regularly committed Social Security fraud, both to keep me from becoming independent. If I were to tell my remaining family that they'd done this, they'd refuse to believe me and call me a liar.

I've funneled an asston of money into my stepdad's bank account in order to help pay the bills, even going so far as to overdraft to make sure I paid my portion of the bills. If I were to claim this, my family would call me a liar and blame me for our financial issues.

I've put in place measures to make sure my family and I aren't utterly fucked over when the money runs out in about two years. If my family found out, they'd claim that I have plans to abandon them and take everything for myself.

I have severe heart issues and likely won't live past 45 without a full transplant that I might not be eligible for. Clearly I'm a hypochondriac, despite the decade of medical records confirming my issues.

It's undiagnosed, but I might also have fibro myalgia. I'm always in constant pain almost all over my body. Constant burning and twinging just under my skin. Everyone is always in pain, right? So I should shut up and not make everything about myself, yeah? And I don't SEEM like I'm always in pain, so CLEARLY I'm lying.

I'm extremely sexually active, own multiple sex toys, and have been using masturbation to reclaim sexuality from my past abuse. The general mentality is that only degenerate pieces of shit look at porn and masturbate. You're a pig if you jack off and sex toys are only used by deviants, pedophiles, and rapists.

I've had feelings that I was transgender my entire life; I didn't just suddenly realize it last year. I've had a concept of "girl trapped in a boy's body" for most of my life, I just didn't have a word to describe it. I regularly lamented that I wished I was a girl as early as six years old. I've been called a queerbaiter and straight-presenting by almost everyone I've ever expressed this to, and that I'm only claiming to be trans to fit in and spite right-wingers.

I fully died for a few minutes when I was 22 because I had a heart attack. My housemate's friend was a practicing nurse and confirmed that I'd stopped breathing and I had no pulse. He saved my life with CPR. If he hadn't been asleep on the couch when I stumbled out of my room and collapsed in the living room, I would've absolutely died for good. I didn't even go to the hospital because I was worried that a 22-year-old having a heart attack would just be too unlikely and I would be turned away anyway... Even though it turns out that I've had severe heart problems my entire life.

I sold a ton of stuff on eBay that belonged to my dead family members in 2020 in order to pay our bills and keep our food stocks up when we had no income and all the moneymaking members of our household were either in the hospital or dead. I'm super afraid that my stepdad would throw hands at me if he found out, since some of the things I sold were my mom's collectibles that she absolutely adored. I have no evidence that he would actually even care, but the fear is still there.

its not funny but i do think about it a lot

[littlesweetchurro]

Frayed Nerves

Chapter Eight

✨Summary: In the wake of the final battle, Hermione Granger is determined to restore Hogwarts. When she hears about a powerful restoration potion from a mysterious hag in Knockturn Alley, she takes a risky plunge. But after a magical mix-up leaves her and Viktor Krum with matching tattoos, they're forced to confront their growing feelings while searching for a way to reverse the potion’s effects.

✨Content: 18+ Loss of Virginity, NSFW

✨W.C: 2511

✨ Also on AO3

Viktor leaned over Hermione's shoulder, his chest pressed against her back as she spread out a worn map on the hag's rickety table. The tiny hut forced them close together, and he caught a whiff of her hair, like the pervert he was.

"There," Hermione pointed to a spot on the map. "The Whispering Woods. That's where we'll find the Midnight Bloom."

Viktor shook his head, his chin almost brushing her ear. "How do ve know vhere to look exactly?"

Hermione turned her head slightly, her cheek nearly grazing his. "The hag said it grows near the heart of the forest, where the trees whisper the loudest."

"Sounds like ve have our vork cut out for us," Viktor murmured. She was so close that he could almost touch her, taste her.

Hermione shifted, trying to get a better look at the map, but the movement only pressed her more firmly against him. Viktor swallowed hard, willing himself to focus on the task at hand.

"I think we have everything we need to harvest the Midnight Bloom."

Viktor hummed in agreement, his eyes tracing the path they'd need to take.

Hermione nodded, her hair tickling his chin. 

As they continued to study the map, Viktor found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. The warmth of Hermione's body against his, the soft sound of her breathing, the way her fingers traced lines on the parchment—it all threatened to overwhelm him.

His eyes traced the curve of Hermione's lips, remembering how soft they felt against his.

"Now, now, lovebirds," the hag's raspy voice cut through the moment. ""I may be old, but I'm not dead. No hanky-panky in my hut. Take that outside if you must."

Hermione jumped back, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. Viktor fought back a smirk. Why was her blushing face so damn erotic?

"We weren't - I mean, we didn't -" Hermione stammered, avoiding his gaze.

"Oh, spare me the denials, dearie," the hag interrupted. "I may be ancient, but I'm not blind. I can see the way you two look at each other."

Hermione's blush deepened.

"I'm so sorry, Viktor," she whispered. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't been so foolish-"

Viktor cut her off, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "No, Her-my-oh-knee. It is not your fault. The potion affected us both."

So it had been the potion that had made them act like that. While he probably should have felt assaulted and violated, he almost thanked the hag. If it hadn't been for her, they probably would have parted ways by now. Yes, the situation wasn't ideal, but here he was standing so close to Hermione. He'd make it up to her any way he could, any way she wanted, but for now, he would enjoy her presence.

She nodded, but he could see the guilt still lingering in her eyes. "But I shouldn't have-"

"You should not haff vot?" Viktor asked, his voice low and husky. "Should not haff let me touch you? Should not haff moaned my name?" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear. "Should not haff come in my arms?"

Hermione shivered and licked her lips. "Viktor," she whined, and the breathy sound went straight to his cock.

He pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze. "The hag is right, you know. There vas attraction there all along. The potion just helped."

She bit her lip. "But... but that can't be true. We barely knew each other. It's been years since-"

Viktor nodded. "Time does not matter. Vot I felt for you then, vot I feel now - it has alvays been there."

The air between them crackled with tension. Viktor could feel the heat radiating from Hermione's body and could hear the quickening of her breath. She licked her lips, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to capture them with his own.

"It's... it's just the potion," Hermione said weakly, but her eyes never left his lips. "That's why we're acting this way."

Viktor raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice challenging. He leaned in even closer, their noses almost touching. "Because vot I feel right now - that is not the potion, Her-my-oh-knee. That is all me. Every touch, every kiss - that vas me vanting you."

Hermione's eyes fluttered closed. "Viktor," she breathed, he could hear the longing in her voice.

Just as he was about to close the distance between them, a spray of cold water hit them both in the face. They jumped apart, spluttering.

The hag stood there, holding a spray bottle and looking thoroughly amused. "I told you, no hanky-panky in my hut. I won't have you defiling my workspace."

Hermione looked mortified, wiping water from her face. "We should go," she said quickly. "We need to find that ingredient and come back right away. We're clearly not thinking straight."

As they gathered their things to leave, the hag called out, "Oh, and dearie? What you're feeling - what you're both feeling - has nothing to do with the potion or the tattoos. The potion only works once, remember? Everything after that first night? That's all you."

Hermione's face turned an impossible shade of red as she rushed out of the hut. Viktor followed, fighting back a grin.

As they made their way through the forest towards the Whispering Woods, Viktor was constantly drawn to Hermione. He helped her over fallen logs, his hand lingering on her lower back. When she stumbled on a root, he caught her, pulling her close against his chest.

"Careful," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

Hermione shivered but didn't pull away immediately. "Thank you," she said softly, her eyes meeting his for a brief, charged moment before she stepped back.

"So, Hermy-own-ninny," Viktor said, deliberately mispronouncing her name as he used to. "Tell me, haff you alvays liked libraries?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but he could see the smile tugging at her lips. "Oh, stop it. You know how to say my name properly now."

Viktor grinned. "Maybe I just like the vay you look vhen you are annoyed vith me."

She swatted his arm playfully. "Prat."

He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Your prat, though."

He waited for her to correct him but she didn't.

. For a moment, Viktor thought he'd gone too far, but then she smiled - a soft, shy thing that made his heart skip a beat.

As they continued their journey, Viktor found more and more excuses to touch her. Each lamer than the last. A hand on her waist as he helped her over a particularly tricky patch of ground. Fingers brushed against hers as they walked side by side. Each touch only made him want to touch her more, and he could see the effect it had on Hermione too - the way her breath quickened, the flush that crept up her neck.

They were so caught up in each other that they almost missed the first signs of danger. A low growl rumbled through the forest, causing the birds to fall silent and the air to grow still.

Viktor tensed, his instincts kicking in. He scanned the area, trying to locate the source of the sound. Beside him, Hermione had gone rigid, her hand inching towards her wand.

"Vot is it?" 

Hermione shook her head. "I don't know, but it doesn't sound friendly."

The growl came again, louder this time. The underbrush to their left rustled, and Viktor caught a glimpse of something large moving through the trees.

"Run," he said, grabbing Hermione's hand.

They took off, crashing through the forest as fast as they could. Behind them, the creature roared - a sound that shook the ground.

V What kind of beast could make a sound like that? He'd faced dragons during the Triwizard Tournament, but even they hadn't sounded so primal.

He risked a glance over his shoulder and immediately wished he hadn't. The creature pursuing them was massive - easily the size of a small house. Its body was covered in thick, matted fur, and its eyes glowed an eerie yellow in the dim forest light. Curved horns protruded from its head, and its mouth was filled with razor-sharp teeth.

"There!" Hermione shouted, pointing ahead.

Viktor followed her gaze and saw a small outcropping of rocks. It wasn't much, but it might provide some cover. They sprinted towards it, the creature's hot breath practically on their heels.

They dove behind the rocks just as the beast lunged. Its massive paw swiped at the air where they had been moments before, sending a shower of leaves and twigs raining down on them.

Viktor pulled Hermione close, shielding her body with his as the creature roared in frustration. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

"It's okay," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I haff you. Ve're safe for now."

Hermione nodded against his chest, her fingers clutching at his shirt. "What is that thing?" she whispered.

Viktor nodded. "I do not know. I have never seen anything like it before."

The beast circled their hiding spot, sniffing the air and growling. Its massive form cast shadows over them, blocking out what little light filtered through the forest canopy.

Viktor's mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. They couldn't stay here forever - eventually, the creature would find a way to get to them. But making a run for it seemed equally suicidal.

He looked down at Hermione, who was peering around the edge of the rock, her wand at the ready. Even in the face of danger, she was brilliant and brave. It made his heart swell with pride and something deeper - something he wasn't quite ready to name yet.

"Any ideas?" he asked softly.

Hermione bit her lip, thinking. "Maybe... maybe we could try to distract it? Create some kind of illusion to draw it away?"

Viktor nodded. It was a good plan - better than anything he'd come up with. "Vot kind of illusion?"

"Something big and noisy," Hermione said. "Something that would catch its attention and make it chase after the false target instead of us."

Viktor grinned. "I haff an idea."

He raised his wand, concentrating hard. With a flick and a whispered incantation, a shimmering image appeared at the edge of the clearing - a massive, silvery dragon. It was a spell he'd learned during his Triwizard Tournament training, designed to create lifelike illusions of magical creatures.

The beast's head snapped towards the illusory dragon, its yellow eyes narrowing. The dragon roared - a sound indistinguishable from the real thing - and took off through the trees.

With a bellow of rage, the creature gave chase, crashing through the underbrush after the false dragon.

Viktor grabbed Hermione's hand. "Now," he said. "Ve must go vhile it is distracted."

They took off in the opposite direction, running as fast as they could through the dense forest. Viktor's heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He could hear Hermione's ragged breathing beside him.

They thought they'd escaped the beast, but a thunderous roar behind them shattered that illusion. The creature was back on their trail, its massive form crashing through the underbrush with terrifying speed.

His eyes darted frantically, searching for any means of escape. Suddenly, he spotted a hollow in a massive old tree, just large enough for them to squeeze into. Without hesitation, he tugged Hermione towards it.

"Come!" he shouted, pointing at the opening. "Quick!"

They dove into the hollow, the space impossibly tight. Viktor found himself pressed flush against Hermione, her body soft against his.

The beast's growls grew louder, and Viktor's instincts took over, his arms encircling Hermione. He drew her closer, so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin. Her face was nestled in the crook of his neck.

They stood frozen, barely daring to breathe as the creature prowled just outside their hiding spot. Viktor could hear its heavy breathing, the scrape of its claws against the forest floor. He tightened his hold on Hermione.

Every curve of her body molded to his, her softness a contrast to the rough bark at his back. He tried to focus on the danger outside but found his thoughts drifting to far more pleasant scenarios.

Hermione shifted slightly, her leg brushing between his. Viktor bit back a groan as her thigh pressed against his rapidly hardening cock. His imagination ran wild, conjuring vivid images of Hermione writhing beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into her.

He pictured her flushed face, eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he kissed down her neck. In his mind, he cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples to stiff peaks as she gasped his name. 

Viktor's hands twitched at his sides, aching to touch her. He imagined sliding them down her body, over the swell of her hips to dip between her thighs. He could almost feel her wetness coating his fingers as he stroked her.

With Hermione's warm breath fanning against his neck, Viktor struggled to keep his composure. He wanted nothing more than to capture her lips in a searing kiss, to feel her melt against him as he explored every inch of her body with his hands and mouth.

Perun forgive him. He was a sick pervert. He had to be. It was the only way to explain his hard cock and twisted imagination when there was a creature that could snap him like a twig right outside.

The beast's growls faded, but Viktor was reluctant to leave their intimate cocoon. For now, he was content admitting to himself that he was a pervert, at least that way he could still hold Hermione close and lose himself in forbidden fantasies.

Seconds stretched into minutes, the tension mounting with each passing moment. Hermione's soft breasts pressed against his chest; her form melding into his. The sensation of her leg intertwined with his own was almost too much to bear. Each subtle movement brushed against his cock.

Its footsteps grew distant, its growls becoming nothing more than a faint rumble in the distance. Still, they remained motionless, neither willing to risk moving too soon.

He remained still.

Slowly, cautiously, Viktor loosened his grip on Hermione. He instantly missed her warmth as she pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his in the dim light. A charged moment passed between them, neither quite ready to break the moment.

"I think it's gone," Hermione whispered.

"Da."

Reluctantly, they extricated themselves from the hollow. Viktor's body hummed with residual adrenaline. His cock strained in his trousers.

They pushed through the dense underbrush.

Finally, after what felt like hours of trekking, they reached a small clearing. In the center stood a cluster of strange, luminescent flowers - the Midnight Bloom they'd been searching for.

"There," Hermione commented.

Viktor watched as she carefully harvested the delicate blooms, her movements precise and gentle.

With the flowers safely tucked away in Hermione's beaded bag, they prepared for the journey back. Viktor mounted his broom, extending a hand to help Hermione hop on behind him.

[casspurrjoybell-26]

Too Old For This - Chapter 6 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Zachary felt a lot of things during the rest of Leroy's stay.

For one thing, he couldn't quite focus on what the man was saying anymore as shame and self-deprecation took over his thoughts.

'Why did you think he was flirting with you?' he wondered, mentally beating himself over the head.

He had taken small cues and had run a mile with them and now he couldn't undo any of it.

He saw Leroy that way and he had to live with the painful fact that they would never reciprocate it.

Also, he felt like a pervert... well, sort of.

His mind hadn't wandered that far but it had wandered far enough.

He'd imagined leaning closer, cuddling and he'd started thinking far into the future about kissing and second base.

Well, that was daft of him because he now had all that ingrained in his mind and it was never going to happen.

Plus, he now had the pleasure of feeling guilty occasionally anytime he caught a glimpse at Leroy and thought he was cute.

"I've never seen your sister," Leroy said out of nowhere, making Zachary look over at him.

The older man sighed, resting his head back on the couch.

"Well, she has an out-of-town boyfriend now and she's never really been here since that," Zachary said and Leroy just hummed.

"Though it's not like it's a bad thing. When she was here it wasn't like it was any better."

"Oh, really?" Leroy's voice was low but Zachary could still sense the shock in its tone.

He didn't want to sound like he disliked his sister... he didn't... it was that sometimes he had mixed feelings about her.

She was about Leroy's age and had a fulfilling remote job and a boyfriend she always talked about.

Zachary remembered many times he couldn't leave his bedroom because she would have people over and they would talk and laugh and get dressed to head out to the club while he was stuck in his bedroom staring up at the ceiling with nothing in particular to do.

It wasn't that his sister wasn't helpful when it called for it.

She'd been the one to drive him to the hospital, help him keep up with his medication and look through every welfare and social security loophole that would keep him comfortable and not destitute.

It was just that sometimes Zachary felt jealous.

His sister had a fulfilling young adult life and he didn't.

"Sorry, didn't mean to rag my sister," the older man said, looking up at the ceiling.

"It's just that she's really extroverted and when she was here there were just too many people..."

Leroy laughed.

"Yeah. I think I understand that a bit."

"Do you have siblings?" Zachary asked, perking up.

He hadn't thought about that before... well, he didn't know much about Leroy in general.

Leroy nodded.

"I have a Sister. I live with her and my Mum. My Dad's not with us anymore." 

"I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. It's been a few years, now."

There was a sniffle from Leroy.

The younger man was frowning as if he was shocked that he was teary.

"Three, to be exact. Cancer."

The attempt at bluntness didn't hide the small shake in Leroy's voice and Zachary wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.

He ignored it, deciding that they weren't close enough for him to confront it head-on.

If Leroy wanted to pretend like he was over it, he'd let him be... for now that is.

"I see..." Zachary trailed off.

"Do you get along with your sister and what about your mum?"

Leroy smiled, seeming to appreciate the change of topic.

"Yeah. Mum's cool. She retired from the air force a while back, now and my sister..." Leroy started, shrugging his shoulder.

"Well, she does nail and hair stuff as a job but she's also arty so she takes art commissions... all that jazz... on line."

"Wow, I wish I could do stuff like that," Zachary said, starting to think of Leroy's sister.

He wondered if she was older or younger and if she looked like a gender-swapped version of her brother.

If she did, she was absolutely stunning.

"Aren't you a writer?" Leroy said, snapping Zachary out of his thoughts.

Zachary shrugged.

"I went to school for it, I guess but I haven't written fiction in a long time. I freelance doing copywriting and blog posts. I haven't really had time for anything else."

Zachary knew the oddity of his statement.

To everyone else, he had all the time in the world.

He was living off government assistance and the little he made freelancing and it wasn't like his schedule was booked but there was something about being sick all the time that just made the time pass.

He was always too tired or feeling too much pain.

What did one do when typing took too long on the keyboard because it hurt?

Or when the screen blurred so badly, they briefly thought they were blind?

Writing novels wasn't really fun anymore and he wasn't going to go through that all day every day not to make any money.

It was weird.

His condition had gotten better in some ways and worse in others.

He didn't use to have so many concentration and focus issues but the pain in his joints and muscles had been a lot worse when he was younger.

He missed writing.

He used to record himself talking about his ideas for books and chapters and listen to them later when he felt strong enough to type anything up.

But lately, there haven't been many opportunities for that and he'd rather spend his brief time feeling well listening to an audiobook or reading.

"Huh?" Leroy said, pulling Zachary out of his thoughts.

"I think I'd like to see something you've written someday... I mean if you're comfortable with it. I have a friend in my pathfinder group that writes but is always up in arms when you ask him to show you."

Leroy was laughing now but Zachary's ears perked up.

Pathfinder?

He loved that game.

"Err, what edition are you guys playing?" Zachary asked, making Leroy look over at him in a mix of shock and curiosity.

"Was just curious. I like the story material for the game," Zachary added, hoping that would clear the confusion.

"No way," Leroy said, grinning from ear to ear.

"I don't think I've met anyone in person who plays pathfinder."

'What does he mean by in person?'

Zachary was a bit confused.

"I play on discord with some people I met online."

Leroy shrugged it off.

"It's a bit of a hassle to organize online but we make it work."

"Oh, I see," Zachary said, as Leroy started going on about the game.

Zachary listened enthusiastically.

One... was because he liked the game.

And two... was because it was quite a sight to see Leroy giddy and energetic.

He spoke faster than normal and left sentences hanging here and there that he never went back to.

Usually talking like this would give Zachary a bit of a hard time but it wasn't hard to follow what Leroy was saying.

Not one bit.

So, Zachary let the young man talk up until he let out a sigh of exhaustion after laughing about a gaming incident.

[realityhelixcreates]

By Talos, This Can't be Happening: Chapter 1-Masser and Secunda

A crack isekai that I started just for fun, which had ballooned into something much bigger. Helix and Swag get stuck in a world from her rocky past, and now they traipse around Tamriel while larger forces start sneaking up on them.

Chapter 1/?

Content warning for blood, violence, sexual situations, and questionable life decisions.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions @whocares-idont

Reposting this properly.

?~?~?~?~?

It was dark, the wind was blowing cold, and everything was very sudden. The gunshot still rang in his ears. So loud. So close. She was bleeding, but the only lights were far, far in the distance, and the sky was very wrong, and he regretted looking up. This wasn't the over-lit, socialite march of Stirling Street. The stranger who had confronted them, shouting about revenge for his brother was, thankfully, nowhere to be found. In fact, Swag was sure through the clouding panic, that they were now as far away from Gotham as they could possibly be.

He'd felt the feathery embrace of her magic, fever warm and dissociative, like the moment before needing to vomit. The weightless emptiness that followed, and the ending disorientation that signified they were now...somewhere else. A place where two moons loomed impossibly huge in a clear sky, and the air cut through his clothing, and her blood gushed under his hand. A light approached, a floating flame accompanied by rhythmic hammering. No other choice at this point; he had nothing, not even time. He cried out for help. The hammering sped up, resolving into an enormous horse, ridden by a man who looked like he was on his way home from the Renaissance Festival. The man held a torch out over them, saw the blood blossoming dark on her clothes, and leapt down next to them. “What happened?” He demanded, rifling through a bag hanging from his horse's side. “We were attacked.” Swag answered, not even having to fake the fear in his voice. “He hurt her. He's gone now. But...” “I can see. Here, if we get this down her, I think it will be enough.” He had retrieved a small, red bottle, little more than a vial, and unstoppered it. Swag held her head up. “Helix? Baby, can you hear me? You need to drink this, okay?” He had to trust it. There was nothing else he could do. Panic was taking him, and shock was taking her, but she was just barely present enough to swallow whatever was in that vial.

Her head jerked at the taste of it, eyes suddenly open and alert. “Ooh...” she moaned “What?” “Just relax.” He soothed. “It'll help.” “That was the only one I had.” The horseman said. “Bandits are getting too common around here.” “I'll...be all right now.” Helix said unsteadily. She was gazing up into the sky. “Wound's closed. And I recognize...” “Miss, you are in no shape to be on the open road tonight.” the horseman insisted. “I'll see you both to safety. Helgen is not far from here.” “Helgen.” Helix repeated. “You can see the lights, up ahead. Miss, do you know where you are?” “Yup.” she answered, and a stream of dread drained from Swags chest.

“Help me get her up on the horse.” the horseman commanded. “It's an hour walk to Helgen from here. It'll be better for her to rest up there.” Once she was secure, they set a steady pace for the distant lights. Not fast enough for Swags nerves, nor for the cold that sliced through him. It wasn't long before he was shivering violently, clutching his arms in a futile attempt to keep warm, and staring resolutely at the dark ground in front of him. He'd been 'homeless' in Gotham in the winter before-on the run, hiding out in alleys, underpasses, docksides. Usually there was shelter of some kind, though. The tall skyscrapers, the abandoned warehouses, the run down gas stations, boarded up houses. He was never just open to the wind and the judgmental sky like this. Helgen was surrounded by a wall, manned by more armored figures, and full of stone and timber buildings. The obvious lack of electricity dropped his morale even further. His money was clearly going to be no good here, which meant they were destitute at the moment. There were a few things he might be able to do about it, but first...

First priority was getting warm. Couldn't think on a frozen brain. They stopped in front of a building with a sign in three languages, the only one he could read declared itself the Juniper Berry Inn. Two men conversing on the deck outside set their bottles down and approached, concern on their weathered faces. “That's not looking good.” one said in a thick accent, noticing the blood staining Helix's dress. Swag stuck close to the horse, partly for warmth, and partly to put himself between Helix and these two strangers. “Can one of you get Yrda?” the horseman requested. The one who had spoken retreated into the inn. The other stared rather rudely at Swag, who tried to glare back, but was shivering a bit too hard to make it stick. Not his fault he was the only one dressed like a normal-ass human being. Others were gathering around, all gawping just as openly. They were all dressed in LARP gear, just like the horseman, but a few were also armed with swords and big axes, which was, as some might put it, doing him a concern. But the horseman was still with them, and Swag really doubted he'd have wasted his only magic juice pack on Helix if he thought they'd be killed upon entering town. “Is she all right?” someone asked.

“I have some comfrey, if it's a problem with bleeding.” another offered. “It looks like a lot more than just a problem with bleeding! Someone go get the priest.”

“Why is he dressed like that?” “People, please!” the horseman called out. “Go back to your business. This is under control.” “Or it will be in a moment.” a woman said, approaching from the inn. “So what have you brought me?” “Yrda. I'm sorry to impose, but...” “It's nothing of the sort. What happened?” she also stared at Swag, though a bit more sternly than the others. Guaranteed she'd never seen anything like him before, but she didn't seem impressed. Her loss. “Thief on the road.” he muttered, throwing out the most cliched of scenarios. “Took everything.” “And the cloak off your back, it seems. Good grief, get her inside! She looks terrible!”

Several people carefully helped Helix down from the horse. Blankets were wrapped around them both, and they were ushered into the blessedly warm inn. Yrda directed them to a secluded little corner, providing a fur lined sleeping bag for Helix, and a bowl of broth and bread for both. “You've nothing at all between you?” she asked. “Well...people leave things behind sometimes. I'll see if I can scrape some things together for you. No don't make a big deal out of it.” she interrupted him. “I just owe the Imperial scouts a few favors, and, well...the Lady Mara smiles on compassion to strangers, doesn't she? Now just stay there and take care of her, I'll make sure no one bothers you.” She left them, pushing a bench in front of their little corner, and went back to her work. The inn wasn't busy that night, their arrival seeming to be the only excitement. Other patrons came and went, most of them dressed like the horseman who had rescued them. Swag noticed most were wearing the same type of armor, and a particular badge: a dragon within a diamond shape. They must have been some kind of road patrol. The one who brought them here had mentioned bandits. If that was an ongoing problem, they were going to want to get home as soon as possible. He leaned against the stone wall, next to Helix, tucked into her furry sleeping bag. “How you doin'?” he asked. “Rough.” she murmured. “Who was he?” “I don't even know. Didn't recognize him. He said I hurt his brother...maybe I did. Before. I don't know.” He sighed. “Keep hoping this shit won't creep back up on me, but I hurt a lot of people back then. Can't really blame someone for holding a grudge.” Helix scoffed. “I can. Coming after me because he's mad at you? Peak dickhead behavior.” “I'm so sorry.” He was sincere about it too. It was difficult, but necessary, to leave it all behind. Better for the world. But he'd left a few families grieving, and they didn't magically go away, just because he'd decided to try and be a better man. “You don't have to apologize. You didn't shoot me.” His hand slipped along the sleeping bag until it found her shoulder. She shivered under the touch, the fur, and blanket, and broth, and fire working together to combat the cold brought on by blood loss and hours out in the frigid wind.

“I really should have thought about the possibility. You're hurt, and it's ultimately because of me. You don't have to absolve me of-” “I'm not saying you didn't do wrong, I'm saying he has no claim to righteousness!” She hissed. “Shooting a woman because you think the man you hate will be hurt by it is villain shit. He might've had a point, but he chose villain shit. He tossed his right to make you feel bad about yourself the instant he aimed at me. I'll say it to his face too, once I find him. Then I'll...I dunno. Shave all his hair off. Shrink all his clothes by one size. Steal all of his shoelaces. Really inconvenience his ass.” Swag snickered. He'd been entertaining scenarios that were a bit more severe than that. But if Helix had her way, instead of having all his limbs broken, the man would be stepping on legos every day for the rest of his life. Maybe that would be the greater torment.

“But are you going to be okay?” he asked. “What was that stuff he gave you? Where even are we, and why does everybody look like closing shift at the Medieval Times restaurant?” “I sometimes wonder if there is some correlation between high development of magic, and low development of technology, and vice versa...Not important now. Yes, I am going to be okay. That was a healing potion, and it took care of the worst of the damage. I can do something else about it in the morning, but I just really need to rest. I'm... empty right now.” “Then rest. People are being real friendly at the moment, and I'm gonna ride that as long as possible. You need anything?” “Stay close.” “All right. Sleep tight baby, I'll be here in the morning.” Cocooned in his borrowed blanket, he curled up next to her and watched her drift away. When she was stronger, she would tell him everything, and he would at least pretend to understand.

It wasn't necessarily that he couldn't grasp all this magic shit, it was more that he didn't. Riddlers, even ex-Riddlers still tended to think in terms of solid logic, with the occasional brush of philosophy. Swag liked to think that he was one of the more flexible among his peers, but the flat out dissolution of the underpinnings of reality that made up the spaces Helix operated in...evaded him. She understood the building blocks of the universe like no one he'd ever known, yet struggled with basic maths. He could write a symphony in code and numbers, but talk to him about etheric bleeding or astral bodies, and he blanked right out. But when their ragged edges lined up...music. The central fire threw its heat into the dark corners of the common room, where they huddled, warmth radiating off the stone. Hours passed, and Helix's color began to look better. Swag let the warmth and stress exhaustion take him. ?~?~?~?~?

[casspurrjoybell-32]

*Warning Adult Content*

WHAT HE WANTS - Chapter 21

Alek

The next few days looped over the same series of events, Ahote would avoid Honon, Aponi would confront him and Ahote would talk back to her and they would fight, filling the hallways with their yelling.

I didn't know what to do most of the time, it wasn't my fight to fight and I didn't think butting into this would be helpful.

I stayed clear of Honon for the most part and even when Lapu would directly pick a fight with him I would pretend like I didn't see anything, I doubt Honon has even heard me say a word before.     

As for the situation with Elan, it wasn't going well, Honon had suggested that I stayed away from the boy for a while to see if things would work then.

Ahote had protested but somehow, we decided to give it one week, I would keep my distance for a week and see if Elan would stop being 'confused about who was his dad' like Aponi had but it, t was day four out of seven now and it hadn't worked, not even a little bit.   

Tonight, was one of those nights Ahote would have a lengthy argument with Aponi, I could hear them through the walls, as anyone could guess, I was the reason for it, sometimes things would calm down but then someone would raise their voice, causing the whole thing to start over.

I was sitting in the bed in Ahote's room since I had to leave Honon's, a sigh left my lips when I heard Lapu's voice join the back and forth, I was starting to get a bit worried but I didn't leave the bed, there was some more yelling but it died down and I couldn't hear anything for a long while.

An hour passed and Ahote's scent mixed with the sound of feet approaching the door made me look up, the door had creaked open and Ahote was now standing by the post with his hands on the door's handle, his hair was wet and he was in simpler clothes, he must have taken a shower to cool off.     

"Sorry for the noise," he said in a small voice, giving in a forced smile.

He looked exhausted, it made my wolf shift a bit in distress, he walked into the room and closed the door behind him when I didn't say anything in response, before walking over to the bed and sitting at the edge.     

"Aponi's asking for more time," Ahote muttered, resting his head on my shoulder as he looked out into the room.

"I thought he wasn't going to stay long but it's been two weeks now..." he trailed, snaking his hand under my arm before giving it a squeeze.     

"Are you talking to your friend?" Ahote asked, looking at my cell-phone, I nodded and he smiled I had told him about Adrian who had been my second in command when I was still a Kappa back in my pack.     

"Do you think they would come all the way to meet you if they heard you were getting bound?" Ahote asked and I snorted, watching as his thick brows came together in a small frown.

I wasn't sure how to explain to him that traveling as a werewolf from the Siberian mountains was tough, for one thing, we weren't integrated into human society like the wolves at Peace River were.

We just moved north anytime humans fell the trees and occupied more land, no one had passports, citizenship or anything, I traveled as a wolf for the most part to avoid problems with this.     

"You're hard."

My face warmed up at Ahote's words, he wiggled in my lap, only making the situation more embarrassing. 

"Y-yes," I managed, feeling my face grow hot and my heart beat faster in my chest, since we've started sleeping with each other he'd built some confidence around sex.

He was more eager to initiate it and he was a lot blunter about things like this too, he chuckled a bit, taking a hold of my face as he pressed kisses to my forehead and eventually my lips, he tasted sweet, his scent was so sweet.

In Siberia, I was used to people smelling of things like rain, smoke and the plants that sprouted from the snow lodged grounds in the brief summers.

Here, people's pheromones smelled like nuts and fruits, Ahote smelled like peaches.

Ahote deepened the kiss, coaxing my tongue with his, I kissed him back as my hands found their way under Ahote's loose shirt.

Touching his chest made him squirm and let out low moans, his nipples were sensitive and turned into hard buds from being brushed and gently tugged.

Ahote's skin was a lot softer and warmer, it was something brought about by his heat, I just couldn't stop touching him and sometimes my and will stray too far, brushing and between his legs before my rationale took over.

Ahote was making that hard in general, me trying to stay sane. my breathing would hike up with every moan he made and Ahote made to kiss and bite softly along my collar bone my eyes blurred and my mouth watered.     

I don't think what we were heading towards really dawned on me until I felt Ahote's palm me through my trousers, startled, I took my hands away from him, putting him at arm's length as I stared at his doe eyes that had gone wide with confusion.     

"You're in heat, we might get a little out of control," I muttered, trying to get my heart to stop racing, Ahote looked like he was trying to understand what I was saying.

He had a far of look in his eyes as he pushed down my arms and readjusted his position on my lap, I felt blood rush to my privates,and it was painful to just stare at Ahote and do nothing but I held myself back.

Ahote could get pregnant and I was sure he didn't want that now.     

"You might get pregnant," I said, trying to bring him out of his trance but he only smiled.

Moving to kiss my jaw as he hooked one of his fingers in one of the hoops meant for a belt, he tugged at it, moving his fingers to fumble with the buttons, he managed to get them undone and soon he was stroking the full length of me when he pulled the band of my briefs far down enough, I pulsed in his hand, getting harder from the teasing rubs.     

"You might get pregnant," I repeated myself, starting to get a little afraid of the fact that I might slip into a heat daze too.

Ahote's hand felt good, wonderful. I closed my eyes, trying not to look at myself ooze precum.   

Ahote suddenly let go after a while and I opened my eyes to find that he had climbed out of the bed to take his clothes off.

I knew that I should have looked away but I held Ahote's gaze, watching him smile as he stripped.

With each piece of clothing that touched the floor the sound of my heart pumping would get louder in my ears, I wanted to get up and get a hold of him.

I wanted to make him mine in the most intimate way possible but I stayed frozen at the edge of the bed with my fly open and clothes on because I feared what would come as a result of it.   

When he was done undressing, he smiled at me as he undid his braids and took out the beads in his hair, I kept watching.

There was something about the man I was in love with, standing stark naked, a foot away from the bed with an erection, it kept me transfixed.   

When Ahote was done with his hair he went over to his drawers to grab a bottle of lube before he came up to me and knelt beside me, he tossed the bottle on the bed before resting his head on my thigh and staring into my blue eyes.

He touched me again, stroking me before sticking his tongue out to lick my tip, I swallowed down the moan in the back of my throat as Ahote found his way between my legs to suck on me better.   

I tossed all my restraint out the window when I felt him gnaw playfully on me, I let a low moan, taking off my shirt before allowing myself to run my fingers through his dark hair.

His mouth was warm and his slick tongue pulled little gasps from me whenever he licked on the slit of my head, from time to time he'd look up and locked eyes with me and I was sure I came a little bit in his mouth each time.     

"We should stop here," I murmured, feeling myself about to come, but Ahote let my penis slip out of his mouth with a pop before he covered my tip with his thumb and stared up at me.

There was a teasing smile on his lips and I had to look away when he licked his lips that were glistening with saliva and precum.   

"You'll get pregnant. You're in heat. I don't think you're thinking straight because of it. We don't have any condoms. We ran out."

I was rambling now, trying to get all my words out before my lust took the best of me, I wanted this more than anything but I didn't want Ahote to regret anything.     

"No I won't," Ahote said in a soft but firm voice.

"I can take something tomorrow morning, so don't worry," he insisted, kissing from the base up.

He pulled away, smiling as he tugged at the legs of my loose pants, he managed to take them off without any resistance from me.

My heartbeat was loud and I was just trying not to combust.     

"It's been a while, hmm?" he muttered, straddling me again as his hands touched my chest.   

"Yes," I found myself agreeing, taking him off my lap and placing him on the bed, back first, I hovered over him, leaning down to kiss him as I ground against him.

He moaned, burying his fingers in my hair as I let my hand roam down his stomach before eventually touching the length of his erection, I stroked him, making him buck up with little whimpers.     

I found the bottle of lube from before and helped myself to some.

I touched around Ahote's entrance before pushing a finger in, he squeezed around my finger, moving his hips in a slow pace to meet my strokes.

I slipped in another finger, leaning over him as I kissed his chest and felt his hands in my hair.

When he seemed loose enough, I took it slow, easing into him and pressing kisses on his collar whenever he let out a little gasp.     

When I was fully in, I stayed still for a while, letting myself enjoy Ahote's body squeezing against me as he let out throaty moans while running his hands down my back.     

I started moving, slowly, with long thrusts, Ahote bucked up against me, taking my face in his hands and moving to kiss me deeply.     

"Feels good," he muttered, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

"It's so hot," he meant that literally, our bodies were on fire from out heat and Ahote's scent was everywhere.

Whatever mask he had put on being overpowered by what we were doing, I couldn't control mine either.

I stared down at his features contorted in pleasure, his pupils were wider and I could spot the little sharp canines whenever he gasped.

Strands of his hair were stuck to his face from sweat and he kept taking deep breaths like he was drinking my scent the way I was doing his.

I couldn't help wondering what Ahote thought of it.

Did he like the smell? Did he find it as inviting as I found his?

This was the first time I was in heat around him.     

"You smell like pine bark," he muttered, answering my unasked question.

"I like it. It's nice," he sighed as he twitched and shivered a bit from a thrust.     

"Can you go faster? Rougher?" he asked, twirling a strand of my blond hair in his hand as he looked at me with lust-filled eyes and that was all I need to put down the restraint I had on myself.

I got a gasp from him, surprising him by holding his hips and pulling him against me with force, I did it a few more times, increasing the pace as Ahote got nosier.

The sound of his hips smacking down on me mixing with the sound of him moaning my name made my sight blur as I felt myself starting to reach my peak, I tried to ease out of him before it could happen but Ahote reached out to grab my hands, holding me in place.     

"Inside," he muttered, using his cloudy eyes to hold my gaze.

"I want it inside." 

The look alone was enough to make me release, I shook watching Ahote come as well in successive spurts.

There was a smile on his face, he looked pleased.

Ahote reached out to grab my hands, pulling me down on him before hugging me to himself, the feeling of his beating heart and rising chest against mine made me shake a bit.

We stayed liked that until Ahote slept off and I was able to peel his hands from me, I rolled over to the side, heaving as I looked up to the ceiling before looking to the side to stare at him.

He looked peaceful and unbothered with his skin was glistening with sweat and his release, his hands were curled under his head and his long hair was spread out like a messy sheet.     

I watched his gentle breathing, my heart was racing and I couldn't for the life of me shut my eyes since my mind was flooded with thoughts. 

Right now, Ahote could be pregnant, the fact produced a weird warm feeling in the pit of my stomach, I found myself turning to the side to better stare at Ahote's face.

My eyes soon traveled downwards, looking at his washboard stomach that held a beautiful dark happy trail, I could spot the evidence of what we did caked up on his thighs.

I reached a finger out, tracing down his stomach before resting my palm flat on it, there could be a baby we made together, in there.     

I took my hand away, shaking my head as I stuffed my hands under my pillow, thinking about that was crossing the line, getting attached.

Whatever was or could be, would be gone tomorrow, Ahote said he would take something, so I shouldn't worry. 

"Don't worry," remembering his words made me cringe.

It was a mix of despair and conflict, it wasn't me I was worried about when I kept trying to get us to stop, it was him I was worried about, about what his pack would think, about how things would play out. 

I had been worried about Ahote, not myself, if anything, I wanted a baby.