#and people still have the guts to hate him

[babydollseraph]

oh man i love this trope. and this pretty much sums up the male lead in one of my romance novel wips:

he is the last remaining dragon, a mythical race that is pretty much immortal

they can die of old age, but their bodies regenerate so fast that pretty much nothing can kill them

so what the hell happened to the other dragons, i hear you ask

that's where the holy kingdom (name pending lmao) comes in

they're essentially vatican aesthetic meets crusades on steroids

aka they go around dressed in white and gold (cool)

while massacring half the continent in the name of their goddess (not cool)

and the dragon kingdom, which was very much a threat because these motherfuckers are practically immortal and just refuse to abandon their "heathenous deities" and convert to the "one true religion"? they had to go.

so the holy kingdom used black magic to set a fire that ravaged the entire dragon kingdom for weeks (how do you kill something unkillable?)

bastards really went "if i can't have you no one can" smh

but they did take one specimen to use as a weapon in their wars

a baby boy, taken from his home and then raised to be a tool for a kingdom that hates him and sees him as a monster

tortured since a young age to "test the limits" of his healing abilities

beaten to "keep him in check"

treated like filth, like a monster, not even something to be feared, but something to be despised

and brainwashed into thinking he deserves it

at the age when he should have been playing on the green fields he was sent to the battlefield

and the thing about this kind of immortality is?

it hurts. it hurts bad.

every. single. wound.

and yet he still sacrificed himself, day after day. using his body as a meat shield. jumping in front of a soldier about to be struck, taking the sword to his own gut instead.

for people who looked at him like he was less than dirt. for people whose lives he'd save only for them to kick him around after the battle like a ragdoll

and at first, it hurt. physically, but also... his heart.

it hurt to see the disgust in their eyes when they looked at him. to be talked to by his "comrades" with such disdain. to fight day and night and sacrifice himself and save lives and yet it was never enough.

but after years of that... he became dulled to it. desensitized. to the pain. to the stares. to the harsh words.

and then she came into his life. but that's a story for another day lol this post is already waaay too long

Notes on Torturing The Character In The Science Facility

my takes on this trope rarely if ever have anything to do with the character being "special" or being studied for powers they innately have, if they are special its something that was done to them

it's about the medical trauma

it's about the violation and lack of bodily autonomy

the "living weapon" trope, but the key characteristic is catastrophic functionality

i love, love, love the concept of "catastrophic functionality" in a person: character that can tank ludicrous amounts of damage and just Keep Going in virtually all circumstances barring outright dismemberment. They can keep going, so do they "deserve" rest and/or pain relief?

after a lifetime of having their distress treated as whiny and unreasonable, they have what would be a dangerously high tolerance to pain and exhaustion.

another key function of the Science Facility is to fix the damage Character takes, maybe using enhanced healing technologies or 3D printed organs or something. this leads to Character's body being treated as relatively disposable cause "we can just fix them"

extreme version of this: Character can't die even if they wanted to

people who work with Character are informed that they're dangerous and arbitrarily violent, and their fear of Character makes it easier to justify restricting autonomy

It is TRUE, cause Character does not have tools to set boundaries or protect their body other than violence. vicious cycle of being perceived as dangerous and therefore denied autonomy, and being forced to use violence to defend autonomy

the restraints used to hold Character look like major overkill, which underscores how dangerous they are. LOVE this trope

character being desexualized to the point that their non-consent to touch, to being stripped down and examined, or to procedures is trivialized. There is no non-clinical context for their body, and the "clinical" framework eclipses any possibility for bodily violation to be understood as violent.

types of uncanniness: Character looks human but has some subtle inhuman traits or characteristics. (I'm obsessed with reflective eye shine, personally.) OR Character looks like they've been taken apart and put back together, like flesh pulled over a much more unforgiving and indestructible metal scaffold. OR Character gives off "undead" vibes; they're just not quite alive in a way that sets off air raid sirens in people's brains

Often, Character is dead and Came Back Wrong (varying levels of literalness)

anyways yeah. i never stopped writing this trope and probably never will. it's a good one

[airandyeah]

Footballplayer!Sukuna X Toughgirl!Reader Who Do You Think I Am? Pt.4

My Masterlist Series Masterlist Sukuna's POV for this one!!! Warnings: Suggestive, Sukuna finds stubborn women hot, specifically you..

Sukuna’s used to attention. He thrives in it.

The girls crowd around like always—laughing too hard at his jokes, asking too many dumb questions, brushing their fingers across his arm like it’s accidental. Gojo’s throwing in some bullshit story beside him, and Sukuna laughs along, but he’s not listening.

Not really.

Not until he sees her.

There’s a shift in the air, something quiet and sharp. He notices the boots first—buckle-heavy, worn in. Her walk is casual, steady. Like she owns the ground beneath her feet.

Like she doesn’t give a shit who’s watching.

And she’s not looking at him.

Everyone always looks.

But she? She doesn’t even glance. Keeps walking like she didn’t just steal the breath out of his lungs without trying.

He cuts off mid-laugh.

“You good?” Gojo asks, smirking like he already knows.

Sukuna ignores him. Shoves past the crowd. One girl pouts, another whines—he doesn’t care.

He’s already moving.

“Oi!”

She doesn’t stop.

“You seriously just gonna ignore me?” he calls out, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. He doesn’t know what he expects—some stammered response, maybe a flinch. A blush. A glance.

Instead?

She turns like a storm.

And suddenly there’s a finger in his face.

Sharp.

Accusing.

Like she’s challenging him to bite.

“You don’t impress me,” she says, voice steady, bored even. “Your stupid bike doesn’t impress me. And neither does your fan club, so go find someone else to bark at.”

He should be pissed.

He wants to be pissed.

But instead, there’s this weird, hot twist in his chest. The kind he only gets before a fight—or a game.

He watches her walk away like a fuse just got lit in his gut.

Gojo finally catches up, breathless with laughter. “Damn. You’re down bad, huh?”

Sukuna doesn’t answer. ~~~ The locker room is finally quiet. The showers have stopped running, the guys have cleared out, and it’s just Gojo and Sukuna now—Gojo slumped backward on the bench with his hair still wet, scrolling his phone, and Sukuna sitting forward, elbows on knees, staring at the floor like it’s gonna answer all his questions.

Gojo glances up. “You gonna talk or keep sighing like a teen girl watching drama reruns?”

Sukuna glares at him. “Shut up.”

Gojo raises his brows. “Not until you admit you’ve been moping like a kicked dog since she walked off.”

Sukuna doesn’t answer right away.

Then he huffs, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “It’s not moping. I just—she’s different.”

“Mmhm.” Gojo grins, obnoxiously.

“No, seriously,” Sukuna growls, finally standing and pacing a few steps. “I don’t know what it is, man. She’s just... cool. She’s hot, yeah, whatever. But it’s not that. It’s the way she walks, the way she doesn’t look at me like I’m some goddamn prize or something. The way she talks—hell, the way she told me off like I was a nobody.”

Gojo’s smirk deepens. “So, what, you into girls who threaten your ego?”

“No,” Sukuna says quickly. Then, quieter: “Yes. Maybe. Shut up.”

Gojo snickers.

Sukuna throws his hands up, exasperated. “I just—fuck, Gojo. I want to talk to her. Be near her. I wanna, like, hold her bag or some shit—walk her to class. Not even because I have to. Just... to be there. Close.”

Gojo whistles. “You wanna hold her bag? Damn, you’re in deep.”

“I wanna kiss her,” Sukuna mutters.

That shuts Gojo up for half a second.

“I wanna see her face when I say her name. I wanna know what her room looks like. I wanna know what she listens to when she’s pissed. If she sleeps on her back or curled up.”

Gojo whistles again, quieter. “You’re whipped and you don’t even know her.”

“I know her,” Sukuna snaps. “I mean—not really. But I know the type. I know she doesn’t take shit from anyone. That she hates people getting in her face. That she only just started talking to that Tiffany girl, and even then, she barely responds.”

Gojo blinks. “You’ve been watching her that close?”

Sukuna just sinks back onto the bench. “...I want her.”

As the locker room doors swing open, the late afternoon light bleeds in. Sukuna’s still chewing over everything he admitted to Gojo—not that he’d ever say it again—but it’s buzzing under his skin now, raw and alive. He’s about to say something else when he nearly walks into someone standing dead-center outside the doors.

Tiffany.

Not her usual chipper, bouncing self. No excited waving, no endless stream of half-finished thoughts. Instead, her arms are crossed, pink nails tapping against her arm. Her eyes—bright but serious—lock straight onto Sukuna’s.

Gojo lets out a low whistle under his breath. “Ooh. She looks ready to scrap.”

“Tiffany?” Sukuna frowns.

She doesn’t waste time. “If you’re thinking about my best friend, you need to get your act together.”

That hits him harder than it should. “What?”

“She’s not like the girls you’re used to,” Tiffany says, voice sharp as glass. “She’s not gonna chase you. She’s not gonna fall all over herself because you smirked in her direction or wore your shirt half off. And she’s definitely not going to put up with being treated like one of your little games.”

Sukuna blinks, stunned. He expected attitude from the girl, not... this.

Tiffany steps closer, unwavering. “She’s been through enough. She’s private. Keeps to herself. But I see the way you look at her.” Her voice lowers. “So if you’re serious, really serious—not just thinking with your dick—then maybe, maybe, she’ll give you the time of day.”

Gojo coughs awkwardly behind him. “Damn.”

Tiffany’s gaze lingers one more second before she spins on her heel and walks off down the hallway, pigtails bouncing, leaving nothing but stunned silence behind her.

Sukuna exhales.

“...I’m so in trouble,” he mutters.

Gojo grins, clapping him on the back. “That? That was a threat wrapped in friendship. You better step up, lover boy.” ~~~ It’s just another morning. She’s leaning against her locker, backpack sagging on the ground as she swaps out her textbooks with one hand, iced coffee clutched in the other. The hall is crowded and loud, as always, but it’s just noise—until it isn’t.

She doesn’t even need to look up to feel it—him—approaching. Heavy footsteps, purposeful. Her gut tightens with that sixth sense of impending chaos.

Then, suddenly, her bag isn’t at her feet anymore.

She whips her head around.

And there he is. Ryomen Sukuna, looming, pink hair messy from wind, sharp eyes locked onto her with the barest hint of smugness. And holding her backpack like it belongs to him.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” she snaps, slamming her locker shut.

He shrugs. “You’ve got coffee and books. I figured I’d carry it.”

“You figured?” She steps forward, brows furrowed. “You don’t get to figure anything, you brainless meathead.”

And then—smack.

She slaps him upside the head. Not hard, but enough to ruffle his hair and make him flinch slightly, grumbling something under his breath.

He doesn’t let go of the bag.

“Fucking idiot,” she mutters, turning on her heel and stalking down the hallway.

Sukuna follows.

And though she doesn’t look back, he sees the way her mouth twitches at the corner—like she might just be smiling.

It doesn’t take long before the whispers start. It’s impossible not to notice.

The sight of Ryomen Sukuna—shirt tight across his chest, his backpack slung over one shoulder, hers clutched in one hand—trailing behind a girl who just called him a fucking idiot? Unheard of.

“She just smacked him—did you see that?”

“No way. That was her bag he picked up?”

“Is he... carrying it willingly?”

A girl by the vending machine gawks openly, her gum freezing mid-chew. A guy nudges his friend, eyes wide. Even a few professors pause in the hallway like they’ve just seen a solar eclipse.

“What the hell is going on?” someone mutters under their breath. “Did Sukuna finally snap?”

“He didn’t even yell at her back. He followed her.”

“I thought he hated everyone.”

“Is he... into her?”

And still—he says nothing. He just walks. A step behind her. Holding the bag like it’s made of gold and not ratty canvas and covered in keychains that jingle obnoxiously with every step.

It’s not obedience, not really.

It’s reverence.

And it’s terrifying.

The whispers ripple louder now, like static building in the air. Sukuna trails just behind her, completely unfazed. She doesn’t even glance back, doesn’t slow down. She walks like she expects the world to move around her.

Which is why no one notices Yorozu at first—until she steps directly into their path.

“Oh—oops!”

It’s fake. Painfully so. Her foot twists unnaturally, the fall exaggerated and dramatic. She lets out a breathy gasp, arms flailing as she “stumbles” forward with the grace of a bad stage actor, clearly aiming to land right in Sukuna’s path—just close enough for him to drop the backpack, maybe catch her, maybe even cradle her in his arms.

Except—he doesn’t.

He stops. Doesn’t even look at her.

Yorozu hits the floor with a very real thud, the air leaving her lungs in a shocked wheeze.

Gasps erupt down the hallway. Someone stifles a laugh.

Sukuna steps over her without pause, only tilting his head to avoid brushing against her flailing limbs. He adjusts the weight of the backpack on his shoulder.

“Watch where you’re going,” he mutters coolly, not at all to her, but to the girl ahead of him. The one he’s still following. The only one he sees.

Yorozu’s friends scramble to her side in disbelief. She looks up, red-cheeked and stunned as Sukuna walks away, not even sparing her a glance.

The whispers now are vicious.

“She tried to trip into him.”

“Oh my god, she thought he’d catch her—”

“That’s so embarrassing.”

“Why is he following her? What’s so special about her?”

No one has the answer.

Tag list is always open! Im probably about to edit and drop chapter 5 too, so be ready ig. Tags: @nina6708 , @sherrieblossoms , @charlie-xo , @iloveredwineee , @kyo-kyo1 , @clp-84 , @book0fdr3ams , @enhasrii Perm Tags: Perm tags: @thenightperson , @makingtimemine , @nina-from-317

[izzysbeans]

the fact that you can have many poc as mains in a tv show and still have such a massive racist following is baffling to me but then again we also have lgbt+ characters as mains and still have a homophobic audience which was proven many a times (look how many people were enraged at buck's bisexuality when 7x04 happened, even oliver had to address it, so tell me again how if a show already has queer characters then there can't be queer baiting because there's no homophobic audience that will feel alienated by a character's queerness, yeah for sure).

like people are seriously out here calling themselves fans of this show and then the moment a latino man, who we all have gotten to know since SEASON 2 as a GOOD and KIND man, even DARES to show anger and emotion in a time of grief, you're calling him violent on main with your whole chest

nah you're racist and evan buckley and bobby nash would both hate your guts if they met you

[boosnotes]

Hi :) I've never requested before, but I realllyyyy like your work. I was wondering if I could get head cannons for if you tell them (Sonic, Shadow, maybe knuckles and also Eggman if it isn't too much. Platonic or romantic, either is fine) that one of your best friends is slut shaming you behind your back just for the way you dress? (Had it happen to me today 🤭) if not, that's totally fine!! I understand if it's not something you want to cover!! Have a nice day and thank you if you do write it!!

She betrayed me

Shadow x reader, Sonic x reader, Knuckles x reader

Warnings; slutshaming, can be read as platonic or not except for knuckles Genre: comfort A/n: holy shit this was requested on march 13, sorry i took so long. i went back to school, writers block, a couple of depressive episodes, got into arthuriana and lost a bit of interest with sonic. hope this is good if you are still caring for it. i havent checked the tags in a month, i dont even know if its still alive tbh

You were never scared of your body, actually, you were quite comfortable; it was a mere vessel that you could decorate however you liked it, so you did. From a young age, you were very aware that your thought process was unique; most people preferred blending in rather than being true to themselves, and as truthful to mankind; they shamed the ones that went outside of norms. Maybe you never intended to dress like that, or maybe it was what made you happy; nonetheless, your body was noticed by other people, you never gave it much thought; only doing the minimum necessary if you were scolded by a superior and blocked you from continuing with your life.

You thought your friends supported you, even if they agreed or not, why be with someone you hate? Such a waste of beautiful time. Yet you suddenly found yourself with one of your closest friends criticizing you behind your back. On one hand, you felt hurt by being insulted by someone you loved, and on the other, disappointed that she didn't have the guts to tell you anything to your face, even as a joke. You stared and stared, and stared at the screenshot you received; it was irrevocable proof, not even a rumor or that someone told them that they told a friend that. It hurt you, it truly did; at least destiny took their opportunity to show you the reality before it was too late; better this than having a lover stolen or your plans ruined.

Weed is better-taken care of before they ruin the flowers after all. You didn't know how to approach it though; she has been so ingrained in your life that it would take a while to remove her from it. She hasn't revealed her true colors to you yet, so cutting her off would just make you look like a bitch; if she was capable of trash-talking you, then it wouldn't be a problem to spread lies. You must be careful, even if your heart is still grieving for the heartbreak of such a friend. You were lucky it all went down on a Friday night, it left you all weekend to think about it, and it helped you to not throw a punch at that bitch.

SHADOW:

Without thinking, you threw your phone with brute force, something you'd regret if it wasn't for a familiar hand catching it mid-air. He had noticed your change of mood, as he did with most little things about you, ones that you don't even realize. He still wondered what exactly was bugging you, he may comprehend your current attitude, but the reason for it was out of his reach. So, he settled by just raising an eyebrow and giving you a look; you had rolled yourself inside the bedsheets while hugging one of your big comfort pillows.

"What exactly have you like this?" His tone was unimpressed as if he was only asking out of courtesy. He wasn't one to put up with childish anger; breaking things, especially expensive ones was a waste of time and resources. You groaned from under your covers, not really wanting to chat about it, though, despite that, you ended up opening your mouth, knowing evading the subject would only earn you a scowl from him.

"A scumbag…" You muffled against the pillow, the comfort of the spot was the only thing keeping you grounded. Your feelings were so contradicting, making you feel nothing at the same time as everything, it was bubbling and about to pour, though when you checked it was empty.

"Did they break your heart?" He commented sarcastically as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He still thought you were having a dramatic breakout, acting out about some meaningless situation like ordering the wrong coffee bag and thinking he'll hate you, or messing up some bank things.

"More like my trust…" You averted your sigh, even if you couldn't see him through the material, you still felt very vulnerable about this. Shadows' eyes softened and sighed when he took a sit next to you on your bed. It was a rare sight for both of you; the roles have been reversed; the natural progression would be him breaking down from something of his past and you comforting him, not you crying and him awkwardly patting your head.

He kept silent, waiting for you to continue, he knew how to treat someone who was just as close off as him with his emotions. You don't have a problem with showing basic ones, even so, when it comes to opening your heart, you faked every problem you had. He couldn't care less about your lies though; if you didn't want to open up, then he wouldn't make you.

"Do I look like a slut?" You questioned after a couple of beats of silence, your voice was weak and trembling, and you were so out of your comfort zone. You felt so lost, and deep down you knew Shadow was the worst person to tell this; he doesn't understand most social problems cause he doesn't even try to care, he was on his own, and most of the time he was saved so much trouble, while you weren't like him.

"You look like yourself." He responded as a matter of fact, not understanding how this connected to your mood, he knew it wasn't a thing people liked to be called, whereas you never cared for that until now. "Where is this coming from?"

"Do you remember my best friend?" He nodded, you talked about her a lot, it was evident that you were close. Most of the times he asked you about your day, you'd mentioned her in some way, she was always there, or so you believed. "She has been calling me that behind my back…"

"She doesn't deserve you." He quickly stated, as if it was an objective truth. To be fair, he never liked her, he always felt there was something off when she appeared; you'd always brush him off saying that the two of them never even talked.

"I know…"

"You should dump her."

"I know…"

"Then why are you like this?"

"I know, but I don't know, you know?" He stared at you blankly, unimpressed and not grasping how you felt. "Like, I know it theoretically, but I don't feel like it's making me feel less bad."

"That's the most nonsensical thing you ever said." He responded severely, if it was another person saying this, you'd feel worse, though it was Shadow talking, tough love was his love language, and he hasn't yet softened up with you to console you properly. You were glad he was at least trying.

"I feel betrayed… she has everything to use against me now," you attempted to explain more clearly, you knew it all could be solved easily, but you nonetheless felt like shit, you felt like you were celebrating the ideas of march. "she doesn't have to hide she hates me."

"Indulging in absurd drama is a waste of time. The worthy ones aren't going to be a part of it." He paused for a few seconds, unsure to say what's next but deciding to, all for your sake. "You have me." He murmured the last part, it made you come out of your sheet cocoon impressed with his attitude.

"That's oddly sweet from you." You were touched, it was a moment rarely seen in him, despite being created for curing and comforting the terminally ill. You gave him a small smile, flattered regarding his words.

"Don't push it." He closed off again, though it was unlike before, it was exclusively embarrassment rather than a facade of coldness like usual. All you did was giggle, not wanting to push too much on this newfound openness he's giving you. Except, without realizing you laid your head on one of his thighs, you felt it tighten but quickly relax, and he just let you be there, carefully brushing your hair back from time to time.

KNUCKLES:

You had planned to accompany him in guarding the Master Emerald, the situation had soured your mood though, and now you sulked on one of the stairs with your head between your legs. You always took the time to be with your love, it was his life mission and the most important part of him, a piece of now lost culture he could hold onto to feel not so alone, a faint connection to his family; you cherished the fact he trusted you enough to let you in this delicate part of him. Despite that, you wished you were at home right now, under the covers of your bed, putting your focus on other things than the situation at hand; no amount of love could surpass distraction from your problems.

He had noticed that you didn't exactly try to hide your sourness, the dark aura emanating from you reminded him of those times he had to awkwardly comfort Amy because of her failing crush, whereas this was more serious than that, not to the point of Shadows usual brooding, but it could gave it a run for its money. He waited for you to entrust him with your little crisis, while the longer he waited, the more worried he got at the lack of change.

He coughed awkwardly, a way to gain your attention; when you finally looked at him, he tipped around the subject, not wanting to force you. "So, how was your day?" That was an alright thing to ask, right? It wasn't a shitty backhanded comment… Right?

He was proven wrong when he heard you quietly sobbing not long after that; you hid as good as you could in your chest, curling yourself into a ball; it made him instantly panic, he was trying really hard not to mess this up, even if he already kinda did. He walked down the stairs until he reached the ones you were sitting on, kneeling to your level yet not touching you; he didn't like people doing it to him when he got upset, so he concluded you may also not. He didn't how to start, he already knew you were feeling bad, and that was obvious; he decided to let you cry your heart out, sitting next to you and making his presence known if you wanted to start physical contact.

Time passed and your tears almost emptied you out entirely, all the water in your system had left from it. Nonetheless, your breathing was still ragged, a sign of you struggling to breathe; he gently shushed you and guided you in deep breathing; inhaling, maintaining, and exhaling, repeating those three steps until you felt more at ease. The fresh breeze of Angel Island helped you a lot, some water droplets hit your face as you heard the birds chirping from the distance.

"Better now?" he softly asked, not wanting to cause you any more stress. You nodded as you slowly sat up, cleaning the salty tears from your eyes; you weren't expecting to break down like this, but damn it felt good, you really needed it. Unconsciously, you grabbed Knuckle's hand and toyed with it as you looked up to the sky, cloud gazing for a bit; it made him smile at you, still analyzing your composure, happy that you were relaxing slowly. "Do you wish to tell me what happened?"

"Just stupid drama." you waved off his inquiry, it wasn't that deep, and you had already let out all you held inside you. Your mind was begging you to keep talking though, it would make things so much easier, you didn't pay any attention to it, preferring to enjoy the sky otherwise.

"It has to be important to push you that much." he pushed a bit, his gaze changing between your hands and your expression, you seemed solemn and he truly wanted to help you, what kind of lover he be if he didn't? that would be a disgrace to the echidna race.

"My friend… called me a slut behind my back." his expression turned serious as if he was getting ready to chase her and put her in her place. Quickly, you intervened, not wanting any of that to happen. "It's not a big deal, do not do anything." he was about to protest, but you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say. "I know I just cried, but it's not because of her. I just… felt really stupid for trusting her so easily…."

"Your heart's too big to waste it on people like that," he stated, it made you grimace cause on the one hand you were touched by it, but on the other hand you were capable of being the same as her, if not worse, you just choose not to. Your biggest worry is that you fell for her, not that she did it at all, you felt that your protection was best.

"I'm not that saint you think I am…" you had let go of his hand, rather settling to play with yours, breaking the nail you had; it made him sad to lose your touch, yet he let you be, deciding to put it on your knee instead, knowing he had to punch your head until those ideas went away.

"A bad person cannot become one cause they have to be good first, and you cannot be a good person until the end, but it's possible for a person to be good and bad in the same life." his eyes stared at you deeply, wanting for you to understand every word that was coming out of his mouth. "I love you because it is good and it shows. I can't choose another to spend my life with that's not you."

Your face flushed bright red, making you look away in embarrassment; your heart was overworking from all the love he had to give you and only you. You still felt stupid for letting your best friend in, but at least now you were his stupid. he pulled your face to look him in the eyes, only for him to give you a soft kiss. You quickly hid yourself in his arms, not being able to look him in the eyes; he gladly cradled you in them, feeling the heat of your bodies against each other.

"I'm still going to do something about her."

"Then at least let me help."

SONIC:

You were sulking in the kitchen, waiting for your comfort food to be done heated. Thankfully, you made enough for it to last a couple of servings, so all you had to do was wait for the microwave to finish heating it back up. Sonic saw your brooding form from the table, he was tapping his feet with a lot of speed as he waited for you, he already got his usual meal, a chilli dog, how was he able to sustain himself with only that as a full course meal, it was beyond you, but if it made him happy, then let him be.

"What's with that long face?" He questioned you; even if you turned away from him, you could notice the smirk he had on. You weren't in the mood to handle some of his teasing, so you didn't respond at all as you continued prepping your food. He pointed at the lack of response, "Come on, don't ignore me."

"Sonic, I'm not in the mood." You said plainly, whereas the hedgehog didn't care, thinking you were exaggerating as you usually do. He stood up and went next to you with a smirk, just staring at you with that funny look until you reacted. Sadly for him, you didn't. Sonic wasn't a guy of feelings; he was empathetic and loved feeling things, but he was also too oblivious to know when to back out.

As time went on, he poked your cheek, progressively getting more frequent. It didn't take long for you to smack his hand away; you had a lot on your plate to deal with his antics. He felt deeply offended, never have you reacted that way towards him, you'd follow his jokes and play fight or gently let him down; his back straightened up as a frown grew.

"Ok, what is going on?" He called your name, more concerned at your state, seeing how serious it was. You grumbled under your breath, asking him to not bother you and leave you alone, but he didn't relented, he wanted to be there for you in whatever is what you're going through, he'd be an asshole friend if he just walked off. He called your name once again, putting a hand on your shoulder as he leaned in.

"I don't want to talk about it, I don't even want to think about it." You hid your face in your arms, your posture a mess, but the need to hide away was stronger than any pain on your back. Sonic's hand just stayed there, making sure you knew he'd always be there for you. He wasn't the most empathetic guy, but he was going to try it for you.

Ding

The microwave finish heating your food, either way, his stance didn't change much, just passing the arm over your shoulder as you took your food out. You turned around and ate it while he hugged you, finding comfort in the familiar flavors hitting your mouth. While you did that, he tried to sneak his hand and steal some of your food, earning a quick slap on his hand. He tried giving you puppy eyes, yet they disappeared as soon as he saw your annoyed expression.

"Sorry, sorry…" He said as he raised his hands, not really honest about the apology. He stared at you eat after that, his mind going through all the possibilities of why you are like this. "But really, what's with that long face?"

"A bitch friend was calling me a slut behind my back this entire time." That made him raise his eyebrows and let out a whistle. You didn't waste any time hitting his chest at these reactions. In his defense, he wasn't expecting that answer; he thought you got along with most people despite your directness. "Now I have no idea what to do about it."

"Stop talking to her, duh?" He answered obviously, making a mocking face to cheer you up. You rolled your eyes, maybe it would've been better if you continued acting as if he wasn't there; it was too late for that, you'll have to deal with him until he leaves.

"No shit, but how? She thinks I don't know, but I don't want her near me." You pushed him away and started cleaning the dishes, talking things out was making you feel less down. Sonic, on the other hand, was having the time of his life, listening to your drama; he was expecting a tragedy, no petty social drama, and he was savoring every moment of it.

"Ignore her, confront her, or… I don't know, people who don't like me usually go for trying to murder me until I gain their hearts." You scoffed; it wasn't inaccurate, but deep down you prefer if she had done something like that rather than slut shaming you, at least you'd had things clear from the start. He rolled his eyes, "Forget about her, now let's go out to eat some chilli dogs and watch a movie or something. How does that sound?"

You slowly nodded, liking the idea of him taking your mind off things. With a big smile, he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the house, preparing you for a pleasant evening.

[lemonfizzyy]

OOOOO!! This reminds me of my roleswap au for Bruce and Dick. I never gave it much development, but the idea was Dick was already an established vigilante.

His parents died in Gotham, but he got to stay with the circus so he left soon after. Later in life (20's?) he becomes Nightwing but he doesn't have a city per se, he just drifts around the world, helping people as he goes. He is on good terms with the JL but is a urban legend to everyone else.

Pretty much he arrives in Gotham on a soul-searching trip, trying to see if he can turn the pain from his parent's death into a positive change for Gotham, y'know? It's all very meaningful.

Meanwhile, a recently orphaned (8? 10?) young Bruce Wayne sees Nightwing and he's over the moon. Bruce is obviously still mega depressed but he starts to get lively again when he geeks out about Nightwing. The idea of Nightwing provides a sort of escape for the kid, since the vague idea of Batman was already a kind of mental escape. (A "what-if" scenario to how that night could've ended if someone like Batman existed, y'know?) Nightwing pretty much fits the bill and then some for Bruce's half-formed concept for Batman, so he gets highkey obsessed. Like he makes fanon Tim's Robin obsession look like a slight interest. (His room is an explosion of handmade Nightwing merch, it's insane.)

Anyway, Dick runs into Bruce after a couple months of vigilantism and the kid immediately hits him with the "Teach me your ways" and after a healthy amount of Bruce stalking Dick around and trying to butt into his patrols to both of their detriment, Batboy is born.

Also Alfred sorta hates Dick's guts initially for turning his kid into a vigilante. But that's okay. They'll make up later.

I’m like 6 days behind on my self imposed AU challenge so I’m gonna queue them throughout the night lol…. Day 4: Bruce and Dick role swap….

Alfred is appointed as Bruce’s guardian like usual but the boy can’t get the man that held him and covered his eyes from his dead parents out of his head. The little detective tracks him down to a gym in the Narrows, where he’s been working since he aged out of the Gotham foster care system. Guess where Bruce wants to take self defence/gymnastics(?) lessons now.

prev / next

[crowpill3d]

teddy cam

flavours: love and deepspace, the love club: mots doux d'une défunte

ingredients: caleb x reader or vincent x reader (i never decided)

allergens: manipulation, yandere tendencies, stalking, vincent shit, very very very slight self harm, possessive behaviour, enmeshment, slight derealisation (mostly if you read it as a vincent fic)

contents: 672 words, stream of consciousness (don’t kill me)

nonono. he loves you — really does. that’s why he does it. you really don’t understand do you, you’re his… well i could leave it there but what i mean to say is that you’re his everything. and he’s your everything too, right? of he is, why on earth would you lie to him?

think about logically. who’s been there since day one? you could say the boy who lived a few doors around and made you those stupid gifts — but you’d be wrong. he’s been there since day one. besides, you didn’t realise they were seals until you were an adult. so does that ‘friend’ really matter?

sure, he did somethings you wouldn’t understand. like locking you in the attic. they couldn’t reach you up there! he could protect you and keep those animals away. but still, he’s your teddy bear. cuddle him, hold him close, press him to your chest. he likes the sound of your heartbeat and he hopes you like the sound of his.

you really didn’t get it then, and he doesn’t think you get it now (i, personally, have yet to pick a side).

he sighs. this argument has been coming for a while. he tries to hold some sympathy. you’ve been away from him for far too long, so i suppose that it’s strange -yeah let’s put it like that- for him to be observant. if he were to dare utter the word ‘observant’ to you, you would sneer. that sneer always stirs a conflict in his gut. on the one hand, he loathes seeing you angry but, oh! how cute you look with a wrinkled lip and a dagger in your stare.

it’s not day one anymore. you’re an adult now. there are things in the adult world you’re just not ready for. the people here will take from you without asking.

he’s lying. adults have always been taking from you. and him, too. that’s why you’re so precious. you… you’re here: real, physical evidence that he’s not alone.

that’s why he can never let you go.

and that’s also why he’s here — to protect you, pipsqueak! and that’s why he’s watching. to make sure you don’t get hurt. you might be all grown up now but… you still need to be protected. maybe not from neighbour bullies now. no, the threats are much bigger. and he’s always been your protector. so why stop now?

oh, what’s that look for, dear? you don’t hate him. of course you don’t. how dare you even think about it! remember all the times you’ve cried into his chest while his arms hold you. even now, while insults spill like poison from your tongue, you’re still crying into his chest. he likes to think his heartbeat in your ear keeps you stable.

do you remember when you first held his hand? when the summer sun beat down on both your backs like the claws of a lion and you were both sitting by the pool. you were so cute and so worried about slipping into the pool. of course, you wanted his protect. your dear teddy bear.

but now, you barely even glance his way. you’ve started being sneakier too. dodging curfews and going god knows where. you can’t be late — the adults will blame him for it. and now he’s been sitting on that god forsaken leather arm chair clawing his skin off.

but it’s the very act of you avoiding him that makes is surveillance a necessary evil. it’s not… wrong for your safety. you’re no stranger to what lurks outside the teddy bear’s watch. parents put nanny cams in cribs, right? they’re their to protect the baby. he’s here to protect you.

so there’s your answer. no — he’s not backing off. certainly not leaving you alone. he needs to keep you safe more than he needs the air in his lungs. who cares if the teddy has a spycam in it? still a soft, warm teddy who protects you from nightmares.

food for thought: i like to think this what goes through vince’s head whenever i princess diana him with alex turner. i haven’t touched lnds for ages, this may be a little too unhinged for caleb. ignore mistakes or i will cry

[friendsdontlieokay]

Mike Wheeler jumped off a cliff to save his friend if you even care

[schemelin]

More of my Lone Wanderer!

[starry-bi-sky]

mmm throwaway conversation between Dan and Danny that popped into my head that I had to write out:

"You spent ten years being a one-man mass extinction event, then went back in time and fought me, and lost." Danny snarls, arms crossed and throat tight. His mouth pulls back to bare dagger-sharp teeth, and his eyes burn with the familiar thrum of ectoplasm heating up behind his eyes. "If I didn't believe you were half of Vlad before, I do now."

His other self -- and really, can he even call him that? He's half of Vlad too. Two halves severed from each other and welded together to make a new whole, -- snaps his head over to him. Wild-eyed and furious, he looks unlike the man Danny fought before, the one unruffled and untouched, unbothered by the world around him. It's familiar, but not like the way a reflection is.

"What's that supposed to mean." The Other hisses, matching Danny's scowl one-for-one with fangs much bigger and sharper than his.

But there's a reason lions fear hyenas. Danny matches the rumble in The Other's chest with one of his own, and shoves his face close to his. "I don't lose."

[taw-k]

Hc: Loki's Nordic runes are really good, he writes them like they're stamped on, but his English is the most incomprehensible ancient calligraphy you've ever seen and his math is even worse.

He writes like this

And his math looks like this

He insists it's completely normal and entirely readable.

[noelles-legacy]

Ignorant?

Let’s just say this was Noelle’s breaking point into why she can’t stand Sebastian… the audacity of this bitch. I know a lot of people really like him (and I for one absolutely love him as a character💚🤍) but Sebastian gets on my nerves SO much playing the game, and to that I reflect that onto Noelle.

but also when he almost forced Ominis to cast Crucio in the scriptorium, like bro stfu cause like hell are you making my baby do that, that’s messed up😭👿

What I wish my choices were

>that was cruel

>you’re not thinking straight

>I WILL TURN YOU TO ASH YOU FOOL

[ulteri0rm0tives]

WORST part of replaying this game. Is that i actually *have* to progress through (most of) it to see Kerry again... Like having to wade through little chocolate gold colds to get to the real shit that ACTUALLY matters.

It actually sucks you meet him so late in the game and only get so much time with him :( especially because I (personally) find his romance and plotline to be one of the more developed slash more enjoyable ones and I just :( wish they gave us more time with him ugh I jUST MISS HIM OKAY GUYS I MISS THIS OLD MAN!!!

[dootznbootz]

I honestly get a little annoyed that people will act like Penelope wouldn't be in the Fields of Punishment alongside Odysseus :P

Because she'd either go with him or literally be there because of her own things. I mean...She's not that nice either. They're literally "likeminded", all the war crimes he would tell her, she'd be thinking "Oh!!! Good thinking!!!" The only thing is, she just didn't GET to do those war crimes because she wasn't in the war. She would scold him for the stupid things he did acting like she's never done the same or wouldn't do the same.

Also as if she wouldn't also tell Polyphemus her name? Maybe not exactly, but she'd do something JUST as prideful/dumb eventually. BECAUSE THEY'RE SIMILAR. SAME MIND!!!

[spock-smokes-weed]

When I do eventually get pregnant, I want to go to Bill Maher’s house and hope the shock of a seeing a pregnant man in the flesh will be so severe it kills him.

[worriesndoodles]

i did not carefuly saved every tgaa related material to look into in detial after finishing the games to open all the reddit posts to see poeple shitting on the games

[lemonynuggets]

honestly I’m still not over the HOO Cupid scene