#but despite the void being what I think about the most

[mimomentomori]

Thoughts/Theories for Arcane Season 2 Act 2: Jayvik centered

Potential spoilers so read under the cut if you've watched Act 1!

To recap, at the end of Act 1 we see Jayce, Heimer and Ekko all get messed around with by the Wild Rune, causing anything linked to the Arcane to glitch out and malfunction. Based on the visuals and what we know about the characters it's likely those three will be scattered across time and space to different degrees;

Ekko will be gone long enough to be considered dead by the Firelights but return with his time powers to deal with the final confrontation with Noxus.

Heimer may be tossed back in time to confront his past trauma and be key in getting he and Ekko back to their correct time.

Jayce... He's gonna have the hardest time. He attacked the Wild Rune with the hammer which caused a massive reaction, so as a result he may be the one separated and lost in the Arcane dimension the longest. Based on the new Arcane Survivor Skin preview and the sneak peaks we got in both the newest teaser for Act 2, he'll most likely be stuck in this dimension for an undetermined amount of time, enough that it will affect his hammer directly and fuse the arcane shard in his cuff to his skin. The question is, how does he get out?

I think Viktor will be the key to his escape. Viktor, as we saw in his last scene in Act 1, is now inherently connected to the Arcane and by extension the Void given that he was fused with the Shimmer-tainted Hexcore. His continued use of the Arcane to heal his new followers will continue to destabilise the barrier between the realm of the Arcane and the material plane, but it could also potentially save Jayce.

If we're sticking with the Jesus/religious leader angle, Viktor was already shown to be having visions since he first coughed blood down into the matrix leading to the Hexcore's creation. After being fused with the Hexcore and by extension granted direct connection to the Arcane, he's been shown to be guided by 'Sky,' or at least a memory/fraction of her that now currently exists within the Hexcore and the Arcane.

My theory is, the more he settles into his new role and newfound connection to the Arcane, I think he'll start having visions of Jayce in the Arcane dimension and endeavour to get him out. While 'affection kept them together,' I think it's more than that now. They built hextech and the gates together, and with Jayce now directly affected and trapped by the Arcane they have a mystic connection to each other through the Hexcore. Despite their abrupt and bitter parting, I think seeing the main object of his affection trapped in such a state and clearly not yet fused to it like Sky is, he'll extend his power to get Jayce out.

Inevitably, this would lead to a potential clash/confrontation over both men's involvement of destabilising the Arcane in Zaun and Piltover... But I think in the end they will always do what they feel is right to save eachother.

I also want to add real quick that Ekko's criticism of how the Hexgates were built to send all runoff and potential fall out to the Undercity is valid and a gross oversight on Jayce's part, Viktor being from the Underground would have had to have a say in its design too so he will have possibly overlooked or felt confident this detail would be unlikely as well. Jayce and Viktor were partners on the project despite Jayce being the face of it; i.e. they're both responsible for what happened with the corruption and the Wild Rune.

With time being a key theme being shown in both the opening credits and how Ekko operates, it's looking like the theory that Viktor is the mage that saves young Jayve and Zimmena may be more likely than we think. But at the same time, even though we see in Viktor's new poster that he is able to thrive for some time, the plants that they experimented in did eventually wither and this may be a problem for Viktor as the next two acts progress.

Whether this means Viktor accepts or defies this rot to be in line with League Lore... I'm putting my faith in the writers on that one.

Let me know your thoughts!

[theinkeddragon]

@whoredmode's boss, Anteros Prince!

Ok, let's do this AGAIN. This time on a notepad first so I don't Ctrl Z and lose all my writing!! (I cannot tell you how much that actually killed my motivation to write this out!!! Did give me time to draw Lady and SRTT Anteros tho)

The Void & Voidwalkers

The Void is the realm below the mortal realm, and above the god realm. It is the source of all magic and anomalies of the mortal realm, and is created by both subconcious will, and by the dispersed energy of souls when they fade away. All entities of the void realm are parasitic in some nature.

Culpas take many forms, changing as they see fit to best torment their hosts. Culpas are born from soul crushing guilt, the type the host will never agknowledge. Despite shifting their form being mostly pointless, both since their hosts cannot see them, and because the forms they shift into are anthro, they still seem to induldge in it. Out of the host born entities, they are the most intelligent, and can be conversed with normally.

Inner demons are lanky and small, hanging onto the shoulders of their hosts and whispering into their ears. They stem from deep rooted insecurities and will try to undermine any attempts their host makes to overcoming these insecurities. Out of all the host born entities they are the most reckless, seeming to care little if they're driving their host towards the edge.

Egos are large aura's, acting as an almost secondary "shadow" to their host; They feed directly off of vice, and spawn from over indulgence. They are hostile, and will encourage their hosts to either shove away or act hostile towards any attempts at helping their host overcome their vices. Egos, unlike the other host born entities, are directly tied to their hosts, and cannot move more than a few feet from them.

Sploinks are scrappy little fairy things that exist purely to cause annoyance, being the source of every small tick and click that makes you grimace in disgust. A fork against a plate, nails on a chalkboard, when your teeth squeak against eachother. Since they are being of pure noise and have the ability to transmit to each other, they are used by the gods as phones.

Striders are long and lanky creatures, with legs that rise them above buildings and round bodies. They wander aimlessly, decaying any and everything they touch and pass through. They are entirely passive and curious creatures, and are more likely to give a voidwalker an unprompted lick than attempt to harm them.

Chasers feed off of tense fear, the feeling of not being alone when you are. Chasers are hyper aggressive and will attack anything that can see them, even other entities of the void. However, when exposed to sunlight they become passive, and nothing more than oversized puppies.

Watchers are the most humanoid of the void entities, feeding off of awkward and tense situations. They are neither hostile nor passive, simply standing and staring to feed until their food source is gone, after which, they simply leave and find the next situation to feed off of.

Voidwalkers are mortals born stuck between the mortal realm and the void realm, marked from birth with star shaped pupils. Their births are considered rare and abnormal, usually co-insided with a near-death experience at birth. Since they are a part of both realms, voidwalkers are able to see and interact with void entities, though this also means that the void can interact right back. They are born with a random ability based around a singular word, such as "Purity", "Trap", or "Puppeteer". Their abilities and connection to the void is directly tied to their eyes, and if they lose sight in any capacity, they will lose their ability and connection to the void; Likewise, if a non-voidwalker were to gain the eyes of a voidwalker, they would inherit the voidwalker the eyes were from's ability and become a voidwalker. Most voidwalkers either believe their sight to be hallucinations (Which being a voidwalker does not leave one immune to also experiencing hallucinations) or the ability to see ghosts; Or if they are aware of their abilities, they do not talk about them, since others would assume the same. Voidwalkers are also immune to forming their own host born entities, though this does not mean they cannot suffer from what does spawn them.

Hehe. They are friends. (I need to get around to joining that discord so I don't feel like I'm just waving at y'all and shouting from across the room-)

[lubdubology]

Soft Edges

SYNOPSIS: Logan doesn't know how to relax. So you help him.

PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader (Although minus the quick blip mention about the Void, you could imagine any Logan you'd like)

WC: 2K

WARNINGS: sexually suggestive innuendos; non-explicit descriptions of nakedness; playful banter; kissing; mild swearing; feeeeeelings; honestly, just tooth rotting fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything four hundred and eighty years seven years and I'm honestly kind of nervous about this. I thought my writing muse was long dead and buried. But here it is, seemingly revived. The idea for this story kind of just fell out of my head when I should have been napping while my toddler napped. The story won out. I hope you like it! <3

You wake with a jolt to the sound of Logan’s alarm blaring from his phone. From beside you comes Logan’s low, “Ah, fuck,” before silence reclaims the room. 

It’s early, the first rays of morning light just barely peeking above the horizon. You roll over and peer over your pillow to find Logan pulling on a pair of jeans. 

“I thought you were off today,” you mumble sleepily, laying your head back down and admiring the way his muscles move as he slips a shirt over his shoulders. 

He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says, continuing to dress. “Picked up an extra shift at the yard.”

Since returning from the Void, Logan had picked up a smattering of odd jobs to earn money. A couple of months working at a quarry. A per diem for a local contracting company. Currently a lumber yard thirty minutes outside of town. Despite notoriety for helping save the entirety of existence, some employers still had qualms about hiring someone from another universe. Not that he cared. You think he was just happy being useful. 

You reach for him and pull him down for a kiss. You can feel the curve of his smile against your lips and it’s these soft moments about him you love the most. “Do you even know how to relax?” you ask, snuggling back down against the rumpled sheets. 

“I relax,” he replies, standing up to grab his boots at the end of the bed. 

You can’t help the snort that escapes from you. “Name one thing you to do relax,” you counter, watching through half lidded eyes as he sits back down on the bed to lace up his boots. 

Logan pretends to think about it and then smirks. “You.”

He chuckles as you whip his pillow at him, your aim off as it sails harmlessly past his head and onto the floor. You hide your smile as he looks down at you, his eyes warm but still tired. “Relaxing really ain’t my style, sweetheart.” 

“You deserve it though,” you say, stifling a yawn. 

Logan looks down at you for a moment, his smirk fading as something softer settles in his expression, but he doesn’t respond to your statement. He stands and shrugs on his jacket, straightening out the collar before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Go back to sleep,” he murmurs.

You watch him leave and as you settle down to steal a couple more hours of sleep, you hatch a plan to show him just how nice relaxing can be. 

+++

You hum to yourself as you cook, the aroma of roasted potatoes and chicken filling the apartment. You’re just about to start on the green beans when you hear the jingle of Logan’s keys in the lock and the door swings open with a heavy creak. 

“In here, babe!” you call from the kitchen. 

“I could smell this all the way downstairs,” he comments, tossing his keys on the counter. “What’s this for?”

Logan wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against his frame, nuzzling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet. With a smile, you reach back and lightly scratch your nails through the scruff along his jaw. He smells like sawdust and smoke as you press a light kiss to his cheek. 

You savor these moments with him. When you’d first met him, he was distant and wary, years of trauma causing him to be guarded. He warmed up slowly, his touches lingering longer and his words spilling more freely. But now, moments like this—where he’s soft and affectionate—have become more frequent. Logan craves touch and you are more than willing to reciprocate. 

“I thought you could use a nice dinner,” you say, your hand still tracing the line of his jaw. “Long day?”

Logan lets out a low grunt in response, his forehead resting against your shoulder. “One of those days where every idiot with a hammer thinks he can DIY,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. 

You smile and give his head an affectionate pat. “Well, you’re home now and I’ve got everything handled here. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes.”

He pulls back just enough to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Sure you don’t need help?”

“You try and help me, and I’ll beat you with this spoon,” you tease. 

Logan laughs and raises his eyebrow. “Promise?”

You smirk, giving him a playful nudge to the ribs with your elbow. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Logan.”

Logan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, the kind of smile that softens all his sharp edges. He gives your waist a gentle squeeze before stepping back, his fingers lingering just a beat longer. “Alright, alright,” he says holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll just go wash up.” 

As Logan retreats to the bathroom, you hear the rustle of him changing out of his work clothes and the thud of his boots as he tosses them to the floor. You finish dinner, resuming your quiet humming as you set the table. You finish plating everything when Logan emerges, work clothes changed for a fresh t-shirt and jeans. 

“Come eat, Lo.”

He joins you at the table and gives you an appreciative look as he sits down. “This smells incredible.”

You sit across from, watching as he takes the first bite, a prickle of anxiety setting along your spine as you wait for his reaction. A low groan of pleasure rumbles in his throat. “Fuck, this is good.”

A grin spreads across your face as he takes several more bites like a man starved. “I experimented with the cast iron skillet,” you comment as you watch him. “Looks like it was a solid impulse purchase.”

The two of you settle into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying the meal and sharing small pieces of conversation. Logan helps himself to seconds and as he finishes, he wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets his gaze on you. “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” he says, his voice low and warm. 

“I wanted to,” you reply simply. “And, like I told you this morning, you deserve it. Let me help you relax, Logan.”

There’s a pause, his expression softening as your words settle over him. You know he’s not one to ask for much and you can tell his savoring this moment. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” His voice is gruff but there’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache. 

“A good something?”

He smiles. “The best somethin’.”

You finish dinner, swatting him away when he offers to help clean up and banishing him to the living room. Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, you join him on the couch. “Care to indulge me once more?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

+++

Logan stares at you dubiously as you lead him to the bathroom and gesture towards the tub. You flash him a grin as a frown tugs at the corner of his mouth. “It’s just a bath, Logan.”

He eyes the tub as if he’s waiting for it to swallow him whole. He crosses his arms across his chest. “I don’t do baths,” he mutters. 

You roll your eyes and place your hand on his chest, gently pushing him further into the bathroom. “Yeah, and you don’t relax either. Just humor me.”

Logan gives you a look—half amused, half reluctant—as he allows you to continue to nudge him closer. He reaches up and scratches at the back of his neck and blows out a sigh. “Fine,” he grumbles, “but only if you join me.”

You laugh softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his chin. “Tough bargain, but I accept.”

You turn from him and run the faucet, letting the tap run until you find the temperature sweet spot. Satisfied, you toss in some bath salts, the scent of eucalyptus quickly filling the room. The tension in Logan’s posture eases as you finish preparing the bath, but he still eyes you like he’s not entirely sure what comes next. 

Once the tub is filled, you shut off the tap and turn back towards him. “Okay, now strip.”

Logan smirks and raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so this is what you really wanted.”

“You’re not that hard to get naked, Logan,” you say with a laugh. 

He chuckles, but follows your instruction, pulling his shirt over his head. As you join him in undressing, you can’t help but admire his physique, his muscles flexing and gliding beneath his skin. You shimmy your panties down your hips as he kicks off his pants, leaving you both bare. 

You feel his gaze heavy on your skin as you step into the tub and beckon him to join you. He steps in, sitting down so his back is against your chest and he lets out a low groan as the warm water envelopes him.  Wrapping your legs around his hips, you cradle him and feel the tension ease from his muscles. 

“See?” you say, leaning to press a kiss to his temple. “Isn’t this nice?”

Logan peeks up at you and smirks. “The naked woman helps.”

You grab a washcloth and dip into the water to dampen it before running it over his chest. “You don’t have to admit you like it,” you say, rubbing the cloth in gentle circles along his collarbones. “You’re basically a wet noodle in my arms.”

He makes a wordless noise in the back of his throat and closes his eyes as you continue to wash him. A comfortable silence surrounds you, soft drops and splashes of water and the faint background hum of your apartment the only noises interrupting your space. You continue to wash him, gently massaging his shoulders, arms, down to the long fingers that know how to play you so well. A deep groan rumbles through his chest as you rub your fingers across the skin in between his knuckles. 

You eventually let the washcloth sink and wrap your arms Logan’s chest. He molds his arms against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. 

You shake your head and hold him just a little tighter. “You do, Logan. Despite your past, you’re a good man and you deserve someone to help shoulder your burdens.” Your voice is sincere as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Or least help you relax every once in a while.”

You soak until the water cools just enough to chill your skin. Reluctantly, you untangle yourself from him and nudge him to stand. He’s already got a towel slung low across his hips as you step out and he doesn’t even let you grab your own before pulling you close. 

A yelp dies on your lips as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs pressing into the corners of your jaw as he tilts your mouth up to him. He inhales deeply through his nose, his lips moving expertly over yours, his tongue seeking the warmth of your kiss. 

You lean into him, your fingers trailing along his ribs and pressing into the damp of his skin. Logan kisses you once more, a gentle press to the corner of your mouth before he lets you go. 

“So,” he starts slowly, “Now that you’ve shown me how you relax, can I return the favor?”

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes and he doesn’t give you time to answer before slinging you over this shoulder. Your giggles echo down the hallway as he carries you and he kicks open the bedroom door before setting you down on the bed. You scoot back and stare up at him with an expectant glance.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, “My turn.”

[bioblsm]

WHAT DOES THEIR CAMERA ROLL LOOK LIKE?

❀ ꒰warnings꒱. boothill backstory spoilers, not proofread ಥ_ಥ

𖧷 characters. jing yuan, blade, dr ratio, ruan mei, aventurine, sunday, boothill

☆彡 notes. aventurine 🤝 boothill — being some of the most gay ass mfs i’ve seen in a hyv game (apart from bronya and seele) seriously their flamboyance still gives me whiplash…anyways this has been on my mind for months now but i’ve never gotten around to writing it!!! >_<

JING YUAN 𐚁 景元

[◉"] 2,304 photos, 83 videos

⌖ if you scroll really fast down or up his gallery, all you’ll actually manage to see is splotches of pink, blonde and silver

⌖ everything ranges from cute candid shots of yanqing (he takes multiple if yanqing’s fallen asleep while on duty), to sneaky pictures of fu xuan as she’s working where he’s in the foreground doing peace signs — the final picture of course being her looking at the camera lense directly to glare up at him

⌖ reaching weekends when he’s slightly a little more free or allows himself a small break to stroll around town, his camera roll is either filled with pictures of food he’s eaten or swords that yanqing may or not definitely ask about that he’s now more inclined to buy as he’s seen them in person (he’s a boy dad who loves spoiling his child, alright?)

⌖ the large majority of his photos unfortunately are work related, only really the recent ones being deleted from his gallery to clear up some space

⌖ however, while his photos are preoccupied with either his two kids or random scrolls with messy and rushed handwriting, each video is of you; jing yuan thinks a picture would belittle your beauty too much.

⌖ he needs something a little more real, a little more active and animated to help him quell the chirping loneliness that creeps up on his heart whenever you’re away from him for a prolonged period of time; if he’s feeling particularly mischievous he might sneak a quick but blurry picture of himself to send to you ♡

BLADE 𐚁 刃

[◉"] 9 photos, 2 videos

⌖shit is BARREN. literally a complete EMPTY VOID. if you snatched his phone somehow you’d assume he just got it despite him not having changed it ever since he received one

⌖ perhaps on the occasion you’ll find a cameo picture from one of the stellaron hunters as his phone is left unoccupied and someone decided to blast his entire gallery with their face (silverwolf specifically just hacks into his phone to keep putting random screenshots he’s never taken in his gallery to make him believe he’s taken them)

⌖ maybe sometimes he’ll screenshot different ways to die or health clinic locations he can avoid when he’s fortunately bleeding out but otherwise? nothing.

⌖ if you’re a massive yapper and love sending him pictures, he won’t go out of his way to download them for later usage (whatever that may be…) but he also won’t go out of his way to delete it if it’s accidentally automatically downloaded on his phone — maybe elios intended for it to be there?

⌖ it’s quite nice having a reminder of his significant other where he doesn’t have to actively listen to their voice… that’s a little exaggerative; but he loves just mapping out the features in your face, it helps him sleep just the slightest bit better with no ailment if he’s able to trace your features like a constellation on his blank, dark wall

DR RATIO 𐚁 真理医生

[◉"] 1000 photos, 100 videos

⌖ call it a form of ocd, but he NEEDS to have a decent ratio (i didn’t even mean for this to be a pun i’m so sorry) of his photos to videos; he doesn’t care if it’s 10:1, 2:1 1:5, he needs something that’s at least somewhat pleasing to the eyes

⌖ ratio immediately deleted anything he doesn’t need or thinks he won’t find use in for at the very least the month (this includes every single cameo shot aventurine or you have taken of yourselves on his phone without his permission, which by the way, he didn’t hesitate to scold you two for)

⌖ maybe if he’s feeling particularly loving (when is he ever?) he’ll allow ONE picture to stay.

⌖ his camera roll is purely filled with test results, written exams, student emails he needs to read over, things concerning the guild or the ipc and secret purchases of ducks he’s made (he’s not ashamed, he just doesn’t want you to know he’s buying ducks that are bigger in size every time so he can fill your shared bathroom)

⌖ realistically, maintaining such a perfect ratio of photos:videos is rather impossible unless you’ve got impeccable timing with things you save and delete so, in order to bypass this, ratio made a photo library to help serve as a base number of sorts

⌖ that photo library is of course a secret and locked haven filled with pictures and videos of you, none of which you can even recall taking. all of them hold at least some sort of significance to the both of you, but the ones that dr ratio loves the most is the ones that are just natural

⌖ the ones that show you being yourself, whether it’s where you’re cuddled up near a blanket reading something with a leg hiked up over the sheets or where you’re sleeping with your mouth wide open because you’re sick and unable to breathe through your nose properly; he loves it all

RUAN MEI 𐚁 阮•梅

[◉"] 505 photos, 28 videos

⌖ she tries to keep it as neat as possible; that means no sneaky pics taken of her by you, accidental blurry shots she’s taken (god forbid, those ones are immediately scrapped and done anew especially if related to an experiment of hers) thought that doesn’t mean she clears it in the regular

⌖ ruan mei actively saves any photo you send her, sometimes she’ll even screenshot the chat itself if she finds herself clutching at her heart as she swoons over a few lines of flirting that apparently you couldn’t hold yourself back from due to how much you missed her

⌖ she’s not someone really sentimental so despite having photos of her little cake-cat hybrids, she rarely ever rechecks them unless the trailblazer sent another report on their status to match

⌖ honestly her memory is impeccable to the point she doesn’t even need screenshot reminders of things like dates and experiments saved (would it even be called machine reductionist to call her a walking computer model at this point?) therefore, anything she saves that’s work or science related probably has more intricacies that she can account for

⌖ her gallery is a little boring otherwise. for someone of her morally grey standards you’d expect at least something worth mentioning, maybe even something dumb like a secret recipe she uses to make the sweetest (anti-truth serum…) pastries but no— nothing.

yet the reason for that is very blatant; not even her beloved has the privilege to witness her mendacity.

AVENTURINE 𐚁 砂金

[◉"] 8,793 photos, 777 videos

⌖ it’s a complete and utter mess to say the very least; dr ratio refuses to so much as glance at it whenever he’s near and topaz just gets an ick:

“how do you even manage to find anything?”

“luck.”

⌖ his photos range from absurd, to sweet to egotistical. things that remind him of you such as random rocks he finds, alcoholic beverages that have the same colour scheme of an outfit you wore the night before, an animal he saw that he swears if reincarnation was real would so be you

⌖ he has a specific library for just solely screenshots based off your chats, most of them including a significant amount of “i love yous” and goodbyes that promised a little something more when you met up next; everything that aventurine utterly cherished and craved

⌖ …and then the rest was either him showing the background of him photobombing others, pictures he took to send to you (or one of the ipc members to piss them off, sometimes even the trailblazer for a cheeky laugh) and on the even more popular occasion, all his extraordinary wins whether it be in poker, pool or uno

⌖ compared to his photos, his videos are slightly more interesting. a near 50/50 split that ranged between him telling dumbass jokes to piss off his coworkers, recordings of the back of dr ratio’s and or topaz’s head just for the future laughs (he likes the reminder that he does actually have friends and they aren’t just deliberate hallucinations born of loneliness).

⌖ but of course, all his “favourited” videos involve you somehow. sometimes it’s just a slip of your name while he’s sneakily recording a meeting, him telling you he misses you or vice versa, other times it’s just when he feels like he has a home. you snuggled up on his chest, hands intertwined together as your breathing nearly synchronises with him…moments where he feels as though he could forget the trademark imprinted onto his neck.

SUNDAY 𐚁 星期日

[◉"] 777 photos, 111 videos

⌖ now as much as i want to say “oh it’s all you! he has a special folder for you <3” i unfortunately can’t.

⌖ it’s almost most definitely videos of robin’s concerts, solo shows, videos he stolen off of audience members with good seats when he wasn’t available to personally hide in the crowd…a lot of the photos are also the same way; robin’s promotional pictures, screenshots from her recent advertisements and negative hate comments or news stories that he’s going to personally deal with later

⌖ that doesn’t mean he values or priorities you over his sister, absolutely not. you two are the only people in his life who he would unironically take down the skies and survive utter torment for if it meant your voices were the last things he heard as bellowing winds sliced past his eardrums to tune the world out in order to hear his own final breath

⌖ he tries his best not to be sentimental or nostalgic, as he’s been told as he grew up into the bright and maybe just slightly tragic and guilt-infested man he is today, those things in his eyes are an innate weakness of humanity. clinging onto something thats not tangible anymore.

⌖ but he can’t help but hold on to every video you send him. every picture of you smiling, laughing, every text of you saying i love yous, quoting love songs to him or showing him pictures where you jokingly said “that’s us” (did he tilt his head a few times when you kept sending animals to him with that particular correspondent message? perhaps, but it never made him blind to the intentions).

BOOTHILL 𐚁 波提欧

[◉"] 12,113 photos, 191 videos

⌖ he truly doesn’t gaf (give a fork) about how messy it is, all the things that are genuinely important are already locked and loaded into his noggin’, there’s no point in being frugal with the space he’s been given on a little cellular device

⌖ you wouldn’t believe it, but he rarely uses it unless it’s for emergencies. there’s plenty of trouble that comes around when you’re a galaxy ranger, which means having a constant tracking device on you like a phone that you update daily is a stupidly bad idea; which is precisely why his photo gallery is a mess

⌖ he quite literally can’t go in and clear it out otherwise it risks giving out sensitive information.

⌖ not applicable to you, that is. in boothill’s eyes, you’re an “emergency”. if you’ve texted him, it’s obvious you want his attention, which potentially means you could be in danger and he has to rush to the rescue like the flamboyant cowboy he is (no he absolutely knows you don’t need help, but there’s always that nagging “what if” factor, you know?)

⌖ he inwardly blesses whoever invented screenshotting because it would be an understatement to say that little as half of his gallery is littered with you. he’s just a bit of a boomer when it comes to technology like this, despite being a whole walking charging port himself ehem, so a lot of the pictures he has saved of you that you sent over whenever he cutely pleaded;

“missing ya, send me a lil’ somethin’ wont you?”

unfortunately are uncropped and framed with the outline of whatever messaging app you’re on.

⌖ if he lets you scroll up far back enough, maybe you’ll get to see just a glimpse of how similar his adoptive daughter’s smile was to his

© BIOBLSM ✮ do not copy steal or repost

[allisonlol]

chuuya dazai and fyodor when reader tries to remove the hickies they gave reader the next day OHKYIGOAHSS

a/n: hiii everyone i have crawled out of my void to offer you this post !! ty to the anon who came up with this wonderful idea. i've missed posting omg and we somehow are so close to 3k despite my inactivity??? slay. shall open reqs again once we get there mwehehe

warnings: slight nsfw

(Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor) When You Try to Remove Hickeys

Chuuya

he's gonna be the most chill about this tbh

it's your body and if you don't want ppl seeing that on you then that's ur choice!!

however

hiding them is one thing, but that doesn't mean he wants to see you removing them

so yknow that hack where you take a whisk and like,,,twist it over the mark to get rid of it?

yeah so you tried that...and it was actually working until chuuya barged into the room and demanded to know what you were doing

bro is not happy to see the hickies he'd proudly left on you last night being somehow removed by a WHISK

grabs that mf thing and throws it across the room

chuuya's not angry at you, more so frustrated and insecure?? cuz like why would u wanna get rid of them

he's lowkey gonna start pouting tbh. won't say anything else but will glare & give u silent treatment

won't stop until you admit the only reason u removed them is because it was too visible with your work uniform and u didn't want everyone staring smh

insist that he should give you more in areas that people won't see and there's no guarantee y'all won't be late to work <3

Dazai

oh lord

so dazai really loves to mark you up

and last night was no different. your neck was black and blue with hickies

deadass to the point where you nearly had a heart attack when you saw it in the morning

"how am i gonna go to work like this?!" you practically sob to him while he LAUGHS

his only advice is "then don't go" as if both of y'all don't need to have ur asses at the agency in 20 minutes

you check ur phone for the time and when u see this you panic and sprint to your shared bedroom

you try everything you can think of to cover them

first you hastily layer concealer on your neck, to no avail as the marks were too dark

then digging through ur closet for clothes with a high enough neckline to hide it, to which you found none

whole time dazai is leaning against the doorframe, watching ur meltdown with an amused expression

he approaches and helps u up from the floor where u had collapsed with all the clothes strewn around you ☹️

"allow me to pick out something for you to wear" ….oh god

u guys are beyond late at this point so you sigh and accept defeat, to which dazai picks a shirt that of course displays all the marks on your neck

you got lots of stares that day to say the least

Fyodor

surprisingly fyodor doesn't usually leave too many marks on you to begin with

he's got that old fashioned take where it's like "other people don't need to see that and be in our business" if u know what i mean

however, he is also a very possessive man

^so when he gets worked up and does leave hickeys on you, the last thing he wants to see is you trying to hide or remove them

which is exactly what he walked in on u doing today

you were trying the good old "rub an ice cube on it" hack before u had to work

now this mf thinks you have some hidden agenda as to why you wanted them gone

"are you seeing someone else" 💀💀

PLS u didn't realize he had been watching from the doorway and this scares u so bad u drop the ice cube down ur shirt

u start frantically trying to get it out of ur shirt while yelling at him like "i have to work, wtf are u talking about???"

u immediately stop tho when he storms up to u and grabs your face to make you look at him

his face is so cold and unreadable omg it's scary

his eyes shift to the marks on your neck as he traces over them with his fingers

"leave these alone" he says lowly, then adjusts the collar of your shirt so they are partially covered

neither of u will say anything more about it after that, but fyodor sends sigma to secretly follow u to work to make sure that's where ur really going 😓

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @mianqo

[bakugoushotwife]

in my opinion, gojo’s storyline has been handled so so poorly i can’t help but think it’s intentional. it is not bad writing to kill a character—even a beloved character. i know most people will dismiss my criticisms because gojo is so beloved to me and so many others. i’ve said before that i don’t mind if he died. does it hurt? of course, and i would still cry and be sad about it. but there is a beautiful way to do it. with respect and honor for his legacy—for what he has done for your manga, the characters in it, and audiences worldwide. but no…gege chose the path of horror and disrespect. at certain points i’d say to myself, well. this is a dark manga. but essentially gojo is the only character that receives this treatment. since the beginning—since suguru left him, he’s been wondering if he mattered because he was a person, or if he only mattered because he was powerful and useable. we certainly fucking answered that question. he is a weapon and nobody ever cared about him at all!!!

and we knew he was being used—he knew he was being used, but he is selfless. so he did it for his kids. for megumi and yuuji and yuuta—he wanted them to be safe. in these flashbacks it’s exceedingly clear that he knew he would die. again—that’s not my issue. gojo dying to sukuna makes plenty of sense and it would hurt to leave it there. but to give us an afterlife scene where he’s presented a choice—north and south—that concept lead nowhere, that’s truly fucked up. to leave all the subtle clues and hints for no reason but to keep people reading and theorizing his return is fucked up. to continue to use his imagery to promote your manga when you know he’s not even honored in your manga is fucked up. we don’t get a funeral or a grave for him. no one’s spoken about him in chapters despite him fighting for hours against sukuna and damaging him so much that yuuji could win, nothing. yuuta wearing him like a costume and no one is horrified about it. i thought his students WERE different. they weren’t jujutsu society yet. that’s why gojo was their teacher—shaping them into better human beings. how am i supposed to trust in their future when it seems they’re just as cold and heartless as everyone before them? no one has honored gojo in any way since the moment he died. and they’ve forgotten about him. he spent his entire life fighting and no one can even say thank you. gege intentionally used gojo to promote the end of his manga because he knows that gojo fans make up at least half of his fanbase so had we stopped reading when he died, he would have lost a lot of traction. he baited us intentionally, cruelly, and something that transcends storytelling. i’ve truly never seen a mangaka have this sort of vitriol for one of their characters and the people that love him.

we spent the entire last chapter talking about some random fucking mission when we have several unanswered questions and concerns. i thought gege said he wanted this ending to be shocking and something you didn’t see in shonen? tying everything up neatly where no one has any trauma or grief for what they’ve experienced, everyone comes back to life except the one character you hate specifically and choso, defying your own power structures and having everyone laughing into the sunset is exactly how shonen ends so what in the fuck is he talking about??

let me disclaim, this is not megumi hate at all. i love him very much and i am so happy he’s back with the group but like. he shouldn’t be able to even walk. he tanked unlimited void for over 6 minutes whenever that length caused irreversible damage to sukuna himself. not to mention the countless black flashes. so what the fuck? he doesn’t mention gojo at all?? the first time he laughs in this manga is after he reads a note written by his dead fucking caretaker about his dead fucking father? like i don’t believe. random open ended kenjaku/suguru mention just to piss me off, an absolutely no mention of gojos sacrifice or how they’ll miss him. i’m sick to my stomach. gege defiled his memory both in the story and outside of it. wow.

P.S. SUKUNA CARED MORE ABOUT GOJO THAN ANYONE ELSE (SUGURU IS NOT INCLUDED IN THIS I MEAN HIS STUDENTS AND SOCIETY)

[ladylaviniya]

Daddy's Final Deal

Oneshot Summary: Your possessive Step-Father Bruce Wayne decides he cannot bare you leaving for college...so he leans on a friend who shares the same obsession for you. He offers him a deal.

Oneshot Warning: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Non-Con, CNC, Grooming (all characters are of legal age.) Bondage, P in V, Oral Sex, Threesome, Exhibition, Vouyerism, pseudo-incest between step-father & step daughter, pimping if you squint, breeding kink if you squint. No condoms/unsafe sex.

Word Count: 10.2k

Author Notes: This is a gift for @cardierreh15 after a playful dare. I hope you enjoy this babe 🥺✨

Gently laid on soft satin bed sheets, your thoughts were consumed with the evening discussion that you had during supper with your step-father Bruce and his best friend Clark, followed by the unexpected marriage proposal Clark had made. You were surprised Clark had wanted your hand for any other purpose than for your step-father’s wealth– you would have never guessed his feelings for your because he was usually so calm and friendly with everyone. Yet he had asked you softly if you would consider being his wife with a warm smile, and you knew he was serious from the glint in his eyes. It was like your lungs were drowning with how difficult it was to breathe.

For the first time, your heart stirred, void of fear and worry.

You didn’t outright decline his offer, but a decision of this magnitude deserved more than a hasty reply. You had to think this through being that you were so caught if guard in the first place, so you demurred by saying you needed time to think about your official answer. After all, you were just a month away from starting college. You wanted to be a journalist like Clark despite Bruce’s protests and alternative encouragement for you to remain home and attend charity balls with him. Besides, Clark was a bit too old…a little younger than Bruce but both men still had twenty years on you.

If age wasn’t the defining taboo, you had noted Clark was a gentleman who had the ability to make you laugh. If anything was to happen to Bruce or Alfred, you felt Clark would be the most reliable shoulder to lean against.

You rolled over and sighed, you held your blanket up to your chin and continued to ponder.

Clark Kent...he would be a decent husband, but did you have feelings for him? He was rather charming and undeniably handsome. It was something that you would probably lose sleep over in the future.

Clark had approached the topic very calmly, almost shyly, and Bruce had seemed to be expecting this. That made it obvious to your that Clark had asked your step-father first, and Bruce would not have let his best friend ask you if he did not approve first...Bruce in fact was smiling at dinner and that smile fell when you have your polite neutral response.

Suddenly the wine he had let your drink felt a little sickly in your belly. You excuses yourself as soon as you could to your bedroom.

You rolled over in your sheets and sighed softly, snuggling up under the thick duvet and nuzzling the thousand-dollar pillows. It confused you, but the more you thought about it, the less absurd it became. You giggled. Clark would make a very good husband, and you would be lucky to have someone such as him, of such a good but firm character, always with an easy smile or an encouraging word for you. And he had always been a good friend to you, respecting your interests in writing, sometimes babying you, which girls your age might find annoying but you didn’t mind.

The boys your age were so horny and stupid...immature. it was impossible to see them as providers for the families that they claimed to want for themselves.

So saying “yes” to Clark would feel a little weird to you, but what real reason was there to say no? Did you have someone else? You might’ve shared kisses along your teens in highschool, yet none of them swept you off your feet enough to like them.

You were just glad that Clark had agreed to let your think about it. His smile had been relaxed, and he showed no anger or resentment. His eyes did appear tighter, other than that it even seemed as if he had expected your hesitation and was willing to wait. Clark was always so understanding, why wouldn’t he be about such an important question like this?

You shut your eyes with a smile.

★★★

Meanwhile, the men remained downstairs in the library, in front of the fireplace, and Clark looked across the flames at his best friend.

“Are you sure you still want to go through with this Bruce?” he asked.

The men had known each other for years and had grown a close bond in friendship and other activities. And if course it was bound to slip from one man’s lips to the other about their depraved thoughts, desires and fantasies....it turns out they shared a common denominator... You.

Over a month ago they were sitting in the same place discussing the same issue about to occur...losing you.

They knew if you left for college, you’d meet some cocky asshole studying to be a lawyer or doctor, get pregnant, get married quickly only to suffer a uncommitted marriage and end in a heart breaking divorce.

What type of men would they be if they watched their favourite girl fall to such demise as that!?

Bruce had married your mother when you were fourteen and he was the best dad you could ever ask for. He helped with your homework and taught you to swim while he paid for your mother’s chemo therapy.

When she died three years ago, you’d just finished highschool. You were totally shattered and put off summer break and college until you knew you were prepared. But now Clark had dumped the marriage proposal.

Clark sighed. His best friend's idea wasn’t totally a surprise to him. Bruce had planned this.

Clark recalled how Bruce was constantly looking out for you; his protectiveness as a stepfather, while perhaps misguided, was undeniably apparent. It was clear that he cared about you deeply and had shown no interest in any other woman since the passing of his wife—your mother. Clark often caught Bruce gazing at you with a loving and compassionate gaze, as if he were contemplating the best way to look after you.

During those days Clark was scared to share his own perverse thoughts...oh how the man wanted to look after you. You always were so lovely around him, so eager to gain his attention and praise, perhaps as another fatherly figure she could cling to...It wasn’t hard for Bruce to see that Clark loved you dearly and was clearly proud of your accomplishments. Clark was proud like a second father.... Except he wanted to do things no father should ever do to their little girls. He almost lost it one day when he walked in on you, on your hands and knees scrubbing the carpet before Alfred could find the stains you’d made when stealing some red whine from Bruce’s cellar. Your skirt was a tad too short, the hem pulled up over your ass cheeks and crotch. Clark held back from ripping those white nylon leggings with those cute pink panties and shoving his cock deep in your tight cunt.

He wondered if Bruce ever found out about the stain...he touched himself imagining Mister Wayne spanking his wayward little minx of a daughter over his knees.

Clark wanted you. Bruce wanted you and the moment they both figured it out, neither of them could judge each other for their thoughts....

They decided Clark would ask for your hand and the billionaire of Gotham would give his best friend his blessing – on one condition.

The idea was foul and taboo, and Clark was not sure whether he should deny to it or not. But this was his best friend, the loving step-father who cared about the young woman Clark wanted to marry as much as he did if not more. You had shared things in the past, and whenever you had debated or ‘fought’ over things, it was always light hearted, and never bitter.

“Of course I do, if not now then not ever Clark....” Bruce replied with a brief nod, “Tonight might be the only chance we get.”

Clark nodded slowly for a moment. Yes, he cared for you and had done so for a long time. He was happy that when he asked, you had not acted with shock or revulsion. But you had seemed surprised and hesitant, and he could not blame your for being shy and uncertain.

“What if she says no?” he asked.

Bruce’s eyes darkened, “She will...at first. Are you capable of pushing through that Kent?”

The super man smirked sickly. Of course he could. Clark nodded.

“She is going to be scared,” Bruce replied with certainty as he slowly turned his head towards the stairway out in the hall that led to your wing of the mansion, “I have been expecting this since her mother died, I doubt she remembers that night…”

Clark sighed, “I recall you letting her drink. She was a giggling and crying mess when I carried her to her room to have a nap.”

Bruce curled his lips inward, and he nodded. The silence grew strained.

Clark’s eyes furrowed in curiosity, “Bruce…are you hiding something from me?”

“She…” his friend paused, his grey eyes grew hazed as he looked into the flames, “When you left, I went to check up on her,” he thrummed his fingers on his chin, “She was touching herself Clark... and I caught her and…well…she…” his eyes met the other man again.

Clark sat back in his leather seat, his throat bobbed, “You watched until the end?” the was no judgement merely a question to acknowledge what had happened.

The other man nodded again and continued, “I came in after she finished, she was half out of it. So when I tucked her in, she kissed me…fully…and…god Clark…she- she’s so beautiful, I can’t watch her go off to college.…”

The journalist exhaled and clenched his jaw.

And Bruce sighed, “That’s why my little girl is going to be pregnant tonight.”

Clarks eyes widened, his lips parted hesitantly. That was not in the original plan...He paused and struggled to find the right words. Bruce had given Clark the greatest opportunity and the wrong word would revoke all that granted privilege.

“We both care about you,” the billionaire sucked his teeth, “Forget what the tabloids will say. They are hypocrites with absolutely no moral sense. Afterall mr superman, aren’t you rubbing shoulders at the daily planet, surely you can take care of the backlash? We aren’t blood related and c’mon we have a right to her better than anyone on this cold spinning rock. With my wealth and your muscles, who else would take better care of her? No one else!” Bruce said fiercely, although his voice was a whisper, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Clark found himself frozen in place, his eyes locked on his friend’s face. It took him a moment to process all the emotions and thoughts that surged around inside him. Finally, he managed to nod his head slowly, as he tried to take in the unexpected turn of events.

“Okay Wayne,” his lips broke into a dark chuckle, “Lets go put a baby in our little girl.”

The wooden door your bedroom creaked open slowly. A bit of light from the hallway made its way past Bruce’s bulk form, illuminating his step-daughter’s face. When he whispered your name, you did not stir, and he smiled to himself. He turned around to Clark and nodded. The two of them moved forward stealthily. Bruce carefully slid his arms under the blanket, finding your form before scooping it up. You stirred but did not wake. Bruce carefully carried you to his master bedroom, a place he scarcely let you enter for the obvious reason of what he kept secret in his drawers. Clark shut the doors and locked them, heaven forbid Alfred managed to walk into this event.

It would be more comfortable here for the three of you, and warmer with how Bruce kept an electric fireplace and big flat screen tv on the wall. The flames continued dancing cheerily as Bruce gently laid his step-daughter down, looking at you with a small smile.

Several moments passed before Bruce lowered his hand, gently moving his hand under your nightie chemise, his hot palm over your stomach. The mattress dipped on both sides keeping you balanced. Another set of fingers creeped up your thighs. Since the touches were so gentle, you did not stir so easily. Clark watched silently, his heart pounding as Bruce slowly lifted your hem up showing off a set of fresh underwear he allowed you to buy with the allowance credit card.

A cute pair of cotton white panties with a soft yellow duck print on top of the crotch. Clark swallowed hard. His thumb scarcely brushed over your damp apex. A small wet spot was beginning to spread. You softly cooed, still not awake…surely dreaming of something naughty by what Clark could smell.

Bruce glanced at Clark before looking back at you, and carefully untied the small strings that held the top bust of your nightie closed. His hands were steady as he parted the folds.

And there they laid their eyes on your breasts, Clark had to hold back a loud sharp intake of breath. Your nipples were perfect, and he found himself craving to suckle them. Your nipples hardened slightly as the slight coolness of the air tickled them.

You groaned softly, your eyelids fluttering open. You shifted and rolled over onto your side, looking around in confusion.

‘Where am I? Where’s my cuddle pillow?’

You rubbed your eyes and registered that you were with your step-father and Clark…on Bruce’s bed…. Both men were staring down at you silently, and you gasped when you realised your nightie was open. You held back a shriek and quickly whipped it closed before shoving the hem of your nightie down past your knees.

‘What am I doing out of my bed and with my chest exposed? Why we my nightie up so high? Did they see my underwear?’

Bruce's faint smile and Clark's gentle expression might have brought you ease, but the situation was too strange.

‘Why was my nightie been untied and opened? Why was it so far up my legs? Did one of them do it?’

The idea was...absurd. But what else would have happened? You were not in the habit of sleepwalking. You tied your nightie closed and quickly sat up, looking at the two men.

“I um…Is...something wrong, Dad?” you asked oh so innocent and naively as you sat up, feeling Bruce’s thick blue cotton blankets under your body. Bruce’s large and callused hand gently grasped your upper arm, softly stroking it as if to comfort you. His kind smile stayed on his face, unmoving even as he shook his head. His quiet demeanour continued to soothe you with each moment, despite the overwhelming emotions swirling through your mind.

“Nothing is wrong sweetheart, you-…” he breathed, his other hand caressing your cheek. Your step-father was an affectionate man, giving your mother and you hugs often whenever you wanted them, but in all these years...he had never caressed your cheek like this. His thumb ran softly over your lips intimately.

Briefly turning your head to inspect Clark, you found there was nothing about his body language denoting immediate danger. He even leaned in slightly and rested a hand on your knee, shifting even closer toward you.

You sighed softly in comfort...until he said, “You...Don’t need to be afraid....”

Your eyes widened, “Be afraid of what?” you asked. Like some strange horror, the dotes were slowly connecting. The air around you felt taut. You were confused and even Clark could hear how your heart was beating faster, anxiously. Your lips parted slightly, but what could you say, surely they weren’t going to…were they? Why were they looking at you in that way? Why did they look so...hungry?

Bruce smiled and leaned in, placing a kiss on your forehead directing your attention back to him. Without answering your question, he tilted your chin up and sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss, his lips pressing against you in a firm manner.

Your eyes popped wider as you suddenly pulled away from the kiss. While other boys had given you tender kisses before in your youth, none had done it quite as passionately as Bruce, your own step-father. His kiss was gentle yet deep, unlike anything you had experienced before. The sensation of his tongue inside your mouth and the minty flavour of his breath filled your senses, making you feel both awkward and ashamedly excited.

Having predicted the situation, Clark quickly got behind you. You felt his thick toned arms snaked around you in a caging hug, holding you firmly in place. Bruce smiled and put his hands on your hips, leaning in and quickly resuming the contact of your lips. You couldn’t lift your arms to shove him away. Your head was pressed against Clark’s chest, unable to break free although you wiggled about furiously, trying to move to the side.

Clark's arms held you in place firmly, pinning your own arms. His hands were spread across your chest and stomach, while his mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.

“Good girl,” he praised, “Stay nice and still for Daddy and me hm?”

He ducked his nose a deeper and traced his lips along your soft skin, kissing along the shape of it as Bruce deepened his seductive French kissing for a moment before breaking it. You had been unable to break it since his hands cupped your face. A soft whimper escaped your lips as Clark started licking along your earlobe, and you gasped softly when he suddenly blew on the wet trail he had just left.

“Easy baby, you need to calm down… Please,” Clark whispered softly, kissing your neck and ear as Bruce placed light kisses along your cheek.

Your step-father smiled and pinched the front of your nightie down and open just a bit to expose your shoulders and collar bone, which he lavished in more wet kisses.

The attention being given to you by both men were gentle, but the whole situation was frightening to you. You knew you should’ve tried to bite their ears, but how could you harm them? The two men you cared about? The man stroking you was your step-father, how could he want to do this? And more importantly, how could Clark just let it happen?

“Please,” you jerked your head back, fruitless from breaking away from their searing kisses, “Let me go...I need to sleep...” you whimpered softly.

“Sh- shh-hh...” Bruce shushed hotly, suckling gently upon the part where your neck met your shoulder. The skin there was sensitive, and you gave a soft cry when you felt him nip gently.

“... D-dad, Clark I-, please...don’t” you whimpered. You turned your head to look up at Clark, looking for an answer. Clark merely gave you that warm, wide smile and captured your lips, closing his eyes as he kissed you with a gentle passion.

Your lashes fluttered, his lips were soft and he was not nearly as forceful as Bruce. He coaxed you to comply. The tiniest of moans left your mouth and filled his.

You shifted again as your step-father worked at your nightie, tugging it open some more. You gave out a weak mewl when Clark broke the kiss. You trembled under Bruce’s dancing fingers.

“Did- did I do something wrong? Why are you doing this to me?” you asked, the corners of your eyes watered. Had your step-father been expecting you to say ‘yes’ to Clark? Was he mad at you? Why was he also here kissing you like this?

This was your own step-father, the man who had raised you since you were fourteen. The man that had married and fucked your own mother. The betrayal felt like a deep and sharp cut. Is this how he saw you? Just some girl he could manipulate when she was of consenting age? You felt sick...and angry. It was practically incest, it was an abomination!

You could barely contain the whimpers and spurting tears rising.

Your question was ignored as the two men made short work of your entire dress, two pairs of hands removing it while keeping your restrained. You could barely contain your squeals when the fabric ripped. Bruce grunted as he tore through and tugged the damn thing from your goosebump skin.

Clark's hands caressed your belly while Bruce's moved to cup your breasts.

Bruce gave a shuddering breath and weighed them in his hands. They were so soft and succulent. He had dreamed of doing this to you many times, for so long during your sweet innocent hugs he’d sneakily brush his fingers against your chest whenever he could to steal and imagine how great your tits would one-day feel in his hands.

All of his expectations were met, and exceeded. And there was still more to see, to explore.

“Please, tell me! Why!?” you demanded. Clark's grip on your arms were gentle but very firm, and you could not scratch either of them. Bruce smiled at you fondly. He cupped your cheeks again and cooed.

“You have done absolutely nothing wrong babygirl. This isn't a punishment. See... We both want you to know how much we love you,” his face leant for and licked at your salty cheek.

“And it’s not like you have a good reason to say no to Daddy and I.” Clark whispered while Bruce fondled your breasts, pinching the hard nipples between his fingertips in a careful way. Clark peered down at what his friend was doing and observed your soft breasts. He was eager for his own turn to feel them, but he was not going to rush his friend. They had agreed to share and be fair about it, and he knew Bruce was a man of his word.

“… No good reason to say no?” you asked, your heart pounding, although your question was barely more than a whisper. They both nodded. Clark smiled and kissed your cheek before touching his nose against it in a loving nuzzle.

He cupped and massaged one breast, giving a brief nod to his friend before shifting his eyes towards your other breast.

Clark moved one hand and took your right breast, which Bruce had offered, and began to fondle it while Bruce played with your left one. Bruce was firmer in his kneading, and Clark was gentle as his fingers skimmed along the underside of the mound, as if he was afraid of hurting you. Both hands felt so good on you, and you squirmed around, afraid to submit to any pleasure from this shocking situation.

“Please... please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this, not even Alfred, please let me go now. Let me go. Leave me alone! I'm your step-daughter! Bruce! Y-you’re meant to be my Dad!” you pleaded, trying to get through to your step-father as he gave your breast a very firm, although not painful squeeze.

Bruce chewed his bottom lip and moved away. He got off the bed and watched his best friend touch you. He tugged at his tie and unbuttoned his blouse. His chest was covered in dark and silvery hairs. He fiddled with his belt buckle. His trousers fell to his ankles. His hand dove into his briefs.

Your eyes flooded with more tears. You were staring at Bruce’s erection.

“Come on princess...You know we won’t hurt you. Ever... Don’t be scared, relax, enjoy and be a good little girl…” Bruce said softly, climbing back on the bed he reached out and started caressing your arms.

You couldn’t help it, you screamed and tried to kick your step-father away with your legs as hard as you could. You hated that you had to hurt him like this. Clarks heavy hand clamped down on your squealing mouth

Bruce shook his head, slapping your kicking heels away. His lips curled into a mean sneer as he leant forward and tweaked your nipples, sending a jolt of pain through your chest.

You yelled out behind Clarks hand, trying to bite down on his palm. He didn’t flinch once. His nose flared, he was a little irritated with your teeth sinking into his skin.

“Better stop screaming sweetheart or Daddy’s going to have to put a gag in that little mouth of yours,” Bruce ground between his gritted teeth.

Your pleas were not doing the trick, and your desperate kicks weren’t either. They both played with your breasts and Bruce chuckled, drawing your nipple into his mouth and sucking firmly on the hard nub.

Clark bodily drifted his hand down between your legs, touching your duckling and creeping down further to your damp crotch. His fingers strong and hard, lazily rubbed in circles. Both of them seemed acutely aware of the pleasure that you were feeling at their attention even as you pleaded with them and tried to deny it. It only spurred them on and made them want your more.

“Daddy, stop it!” you wailed, “This is wrong and you know it too Clark!” you flung yourself backwards and tried to push the other male off you.

The man let your nipple free and looked into you's eyes. It had been so long since you had called him 'Daddy', having abandoned it for 'Dad' or just 'Bruce' in later years.

“Pumpkin…” he said, grabbing your wrists, giving Clark enough time to move away. Bruce pushed you back hard onto the mattress and sat on your ankles, holding your wrists down as he clouded you in his body. He hovered above you. You trembled violently, weeping hard.

“This is going to happen, and there’s nothing you can do or say to stop it,” his head lifted, “You finished stripping Clark?” he asked.

Your eyes flashed up. Your point of you made the world appear upside down. Clark sat his glasses on the bed side table...it was the last thing he wore.

“Bottom drawer, there’s a roll of duct tape.”

Clark nodded and pulled it out. The colour surprised him ...it was pink. Clark planned to use it on you one way or another, no matter what

Bruce trailed his nose across your face and pressed his lips to your forehead, “Trust your Daddy. Have I ever done anything to you that proved harmful?” Bruce asked softly, his blue eyes filled with a pleading for your understanding. You fell silent as you slowly shook your head whimpering and breaking down at the tearing sound of the pink duct tape. Bruce pushed your wrists together. The sticky sensation bound around your wrists tightly. He had always been such a loving step-father. But this went past the bounds of a step-father.

“No... b-bu-tt this-s... we're n-not...d-daddy, y-youre meant to be m-m-my dad-daddy...” Your voice was breaking, a soft pathetic whine as you pleaded, “Clar-k h-elp me.”

Bruce’s eyes glanced up at Clark. A tiny nod. Another rip and the tape was pushed flat against your sobbing mouth.

Clark rejoined you both on the bed and held your hands down for Bruce as the man bent down taking your nipple into his mouth again, his tongue rubbing it firmly as he suckled. A chest rattling gasp was muffled behind the tape.

Clark held you, massaging your other breast. You started to feel the fiery tingle between your legs. You were a virgin, but you were not stupid, and had touched that special place before...shame filled your mind because truly how much of a monster were you for being aroused by... your own step-father?

Despite the pleasure, you were afraid. You wiggled against Clark, twisting your arms and whining softly.

Clark's hands were gentle yet firm, and he held you in place even as you twisted. He moaned softly against your neck, and you felt the underside of his arousal along side Bruce’s, both touching the outsides of your thighs.

"Bruce...I need her,” he whispered, “Let me fuck your precious princess?”

The older man corrected softly humming, “Our precious princess.”

The two strong men lifted you up slightly from your laying down. You tried weakly kicked at them again before feeling Bruce slap the inside of your thigh and point a stern finger at your face.

“Enough. Don’t make me throw you over my knee babygirl.”

You sniffled and started to hiccup behind the tape gag. The tiny jerks from your body every time you hiccupped made the men’s faces soften.

You were forced to sit up on your knees and lay forward against Bruce’s chest. When Clark tugged your hips backwards, your bum was angled to the sky while your stomach laid in Bruce’s lap, your legs at either side of his torso. This caused your chest to be nestled into Bruce's lap, your breasts pressed against the hard hot flesh of his cock. You were effectively sandwiched between them, and wiggled around, trying to not think about your step father’s cock touching your nipple and switching against your skin.

His large hands touched your shoulders and laid it on your head, patting your hair softly. Clark's hands were at your rear, rubbing and kneading the cheeks and parting them slightly as he felt the pert rump. A soft playful spank made you jump and whine. You started sobbing again, wiggling against the firm grip of your step-father as he tried to soothe you. One of Bruce's hands cupped his cock and rubbed his precum into your swollen nipples.

You tried to kick at Clark as you felt his hands on the waistband of your panties, and you turned your face away from your step-father's throbbing erection that Bruce was raising to rub along your wet salty cheek. You tried to use your hands as leverage.

How was you supposed to get out of this situation? It was clear what they wanted to do and also clear that they would not be deterred. The combined forces of two fully-grown men, strong super humans at that, against that of a young woman, was quite overwhelming. They were not letting your go, and that was that. Bruce chuckled as Clark slid his step-daughter's panties down, exposing your pert ass. Clarks mouth looked dry...his tongue flicked out.

It was rather a lovely sight for Clark, and he sighed contentedly as he reached down to stroke your lower lips. You moaned softly, you used your knees to get away and to launch yourself up Bruce’s body. You managed to bury your face against your step-father's chest and the crease of his armour as you felt Clarks hot breath along your little glistening slit.

Soon Clark's fingers rose up to pet your wet pussy. He caressed the throbbing mound gently, fingers slowly pulling apart your slick nether lips. With one arm, he hooked it under your stomach and lifted your hips, forcing you back up higher on your knees. This allowed him to see your womanhood more clearly.

“How's it look?” Bruce asked calmly, stroking your hair and back in an attempt to soothe you, forgetting his own throbbing arousal for the moment as he tried to quieten your sobs.

“Ohh, Bruce, our little girl is so perfect,” he moaned, grinning as he gently felt your inner flesh with a finger. Your inner flesh peeked out shyly from your outer lips, like the petals of a flower. Bruce could not help but chuckle at Clark’s response as he ran his fingers along your spine, feeling your twitch and hearing a soft shudder come from the tape gag. He pressed his lips to your brow and hummed.

“Yea darlin’,” he broke into his relaxed southern drawl, “You goin’ tell daddy about how you probably used his credit card to wax this pretty pussy?”

Bruce’s eyes widened. His jaw dropped as he looked down at your eyes, pleading up at him wetly.

“It’s a real sculpted love heart...now who on earth is this for huh? Only little sluts get groomed like this,” Clark sat up and leant of you and Bruce. His lips pressed to the corner of your tapped lips, “Are you a little slut baby girl.”

Muffled sobs emanated from the girl as you pressed your face against your step-father’s chest and Clark paused. The men exchanged smirks.

“Have you let some boy fuck this cute hole Baby girl?” Clark breathed, softly, a mocking tone to his voice. He touched your side with his free hand, the other remaining at your mound but being idle, the finger now pulled out. Bruce looked down and gently tilted his step-daughter's chin up to look into your eyes. You looked very lovely with tear-stained cheeks, you had never looked more beautiful his eyes. His hand slowly ran along your cheeks, wiping your tears as he looked down at your tenderly.

“Sweetheart...My lovely little girl. You’re not in trouble, tell us the truth...” he said, softly, caressing your face. Clark bit his lip gently and resumed stroking your rear and your thighs, soon going back to rubbing your hot folds. There was no denying the pleasure, and he felt wetness.

You whimpered softly as you shook your head no while you succumbed under the gentle assault of four hands, all caressing and touching you in the most intimate and gentle of ways.

It was strange, they were not supposed to be doing this and you had been trying to fight them off. And despite all the fear, despite all the rough man handling, despite their mean mockery and degrading humiliation...your groin felt alive....You felt good,

You glanced back over your shoulder at Clark. He met your eyes and smiled. He pressed his lips to your forehead while his fingers were stroking and rubbing your intimate areas in a way that caused your to become wetter.

You hadn’t noticed how your crying was being replaced by snotty sniffling, and mewling moans.

Bruce smiled down at you when you turned your head back to him.

You felt his hand cup your bicep, pulling your bound hands up. You stretched your fingers. He held up his erection and pointed it to your palms

“Touch me baby,” he encouraged softly, “I trust you.”

You whimpered softly and shook your head, giving a sudden gasp with wide eyes as one of Clark’s fingers wiggled into you.

“Please...?” he purred lowly, smiling as Clark pressed second one inside and slowly scissor your insides. You let out a low shuddering moan as your step-father gently grasped your wrist, leading your hand to the swollen cock. Clark continued sliding his fingers in and out of you, before adding a third. Your walls clamped and tightened. You let out a soft hiss and were unable to stop yourself from pushing against Clark’s hand. The man then angled his fingers as he thrust them in slowly, causing them to press against a spongy place on your inner wall that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Bruce smiled, his hand cupping over your bound hands so you were forced to grasp the base of his erection. You tried to remove your hand – but of course, to no avail. His thick rod was very warm and solid, you made a small noise as you felt it throb under your hand. You squirmed slightly under Clark’s attention, finding it difficult to breathe as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

Clark peppered a flood of gentle kisses along your soft cheeks as he thrust his fingers into you. Your step-father released a soft moan.

Your hand tightened and rubbed your step-fathers shaft weakily. Your shuddering breaths and fluttering eyes told Bruce everything he need to know about how well Clark was treating their special girl.

Your fingers slowly slid up and down the shaft several times, before you wrapped your fingers around it more firmly and did just as he guided, pumping it slowly and seeing the head seep with a bit more precum. His head tilted back a bit and he gave a low groan of pleasure. You looked up at him and saw how much he liked it, then whimpered, it was so strange how you could have the power all of a sudden. Curiosity, getting the best of you as you looked down at it. It was impressive-looking, and you were becoming slowly bemused to think that he wanted to put this in you.

You pumped more firmly, looking up at your step-father's face intently. He was no longer holding your down, so you pulled herself up just a bit, Clarks fingers followed you as you weakly tried balancing up and off Bruce’s chest. You continued your firm pumping of your step-father's engorged member. Now the taboo excitement of watching him moan and dig his nails into the bed sheets made you conclude that you were getting a thrill out of all this. It made you wonder if there was something wrong with you just as much as there was something wrong with him.

At fourteen, who could deny that little sweet highschooler you had a big crush on your step dad before it developed into crushing on his journalist friend Clark Kent, the very man with three digits up your sweet silky hole.

It was time. You could definitely not ignore the pleasure you felt from Clark, who was working slowly and tenderly at your throbbing sex.

You whined, arching your hips, your toes curling and flexing, something Clark found cute. He chuckled to himself, trailing his free hand along the back of one of your thighs.

Bruce’s hand rose up and grabbed your wrists, he pulled them away to gently stop you. He knew he wanted to cum inside of you.

You looked up at him in surprise and your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, seeing him smiling kindly at you. Bruce pressed his lips against your forehead and chuckled.

“Are you trying to be a good girl now?” he asked touching the corner of the tape on your mouth.

You sniffled and nodded, moaning when Clark pulled his fingers out to trail down and rub into your pearlling clit.

He smiled, “Alright,” he whispered, “This is going to hurt-“ he said ripping off the tape before he finished his own sentence.

You yelped and hissed.

“Sorry baby girl,” he apologised.

Bruce then leant back against the pillows and watched you succumb to pleasure from Clarks speedy fingers. Your bound hands laid flat on Bruce’s chest, steading you from falling. Your fingers brushed and rubbed along his hairy chest.

Bruce cupped your waist and held you firm as he gazed at you showing your curious exploration. It was then he realised, you were touching some of his scars, covered by hair. Your eyes were growing softer...glassy...he couldn’t believe his luck...you looked the same as you did when you kissed him after your mothers death. If only he knew this was some sort of trance, a head space you were in all those years ago, he would’ve fucked you then.

Clark slid his fingers out of your and licked them clean. The pair, rolled you over onto your back.

You calmly glanced back at your step-father for a moment before returning your attention to the taller man, who was in a similar state of arousal as your step-father.

“My sweet little girl...” Bruce purred before kissing you deeply, his lips locking around yours passionately. Finally you found yourself leaning closer and meeting his same force. The wet sounds of your mouth and moans clouded any remaining sanity left in your mind. Your bound arms found their way around his neck, and he continued kissing you.

Clark waited patiently, knowing that he would have the soon enough, and watched as his friend lovingly cradled his step-daughter, continuing the hungry attentions. You were unable to resist kissing him back just as fiercely.

Soon your tongues came into the dance, with Bruce quickly gaining dominance, a sweet whine escaping you.

Clark smiled, and began to rub his shaft slightly. Bruce pulled away and pushed your bound hands off his neck. He shuffled your face to the side, pushing you to Clarks arms.

With bold confidence, you pushed up onto your knees and laid your loud hands behind his neck, pressing your lips to his. He playfully growled as your tongues fought, you lost and he hummed happily, eagerly exploring your sweet little mouth, his arms tightening around your body.

After a few more long moments of the passionate kiss, he broke it before licking up the strand of saliva that bridged your panting tongues. He grinned at you. You smiled and stared at him for a moment before looking down shyly. He saw this demure action and smirked.

“What’s wrong princess, still scared?” he asked softly, nuzzling your cheek. You continued looking down shyly. You had thought of asking Bruce who was watching you both, what your mother would have thought of what he was doing to his step-daughter, but you had no doubt that he had already thought of that.

Bruce cupped your waist and lowered his lips to your shoulders. His erection pushed against the swell of your ass.

Carefully you were pushed back onto the mattress. Bruce came up to put your head in his lap, languidly stroking your hair and cheeks as Clark rubbed your thighs. The man you had admired for so long spread them, eyeing your shuddering sex hungrily. Your body froze up, stiffening as it sunk in what was truly coming you squirmed around, pressing your knees together. You looked up at Clark pleadingly.

He sighed, disappointed. He leant behind him, reaching for the duct tape....was he going to duct tape your legs spread wide.

You panicked, “Are you doing this because I did not accept your marriage offer?”

“No.” he paused and didn’t grab the tape at all. He leant down and softly, kissed your lips chastely. Bruce leant down sand cupped the back of your knees, pulling them up and spreading them wide.

You shivered.

Clark touched your cunt gently and spread you open again. His face pushed forward, leaning in and licked from the bottom to the top of your slit. You had a sharp gasping intake as you felt the gentle licking there and you pushed his head away gently. Clark leaned back in and continued to lick you, lapping at the sweet wet with his thick tongue, resisting as you pushed at his head – although your pushes were fairly weak.

“You’re not being punished,” Bruce repeatedly assured you as if he read your mind, stroking your cheeks. Clark continued to lap at you.

“We just both think this would be a bit of....encouragement for you to stay baby,” Bruce purred, tweaking one of your nipples playfully.

You grizzled, “To st-stay?” your hips jerked a little as Clark sucked harder on your clit, your legs still held wide open by Bruce’s strong hands.

“Honey,” Clark murmured into your cunt, staring up at you with eyes that were mixed with lust, adoration and worship, “You don’t need to go to college when you have me and your daddy to heel you happy.”

Your voice caught in your throat, you couldn’t believe it...this was why? To keep you away from going to school? You bit your bottom lip. You would’ve been devastatingly hurt but with his tongue slipping inside and licking deep into your whole, you tossed your head backwards onto Bruce’s shoulder, crying out as a orgasm waved through your body.

“Clark, you can take her first,” Bruce softly granted.

“We can look at that sweet asshole another day and then,” your step father licked the shell of your ears whispering, “You’ll be allowed to fuck two big cocks at once down there.”

Clark got on his knees between your legs and Bruce steadied you, taking your hands into his own and squeezing them reassuringly before he let go. His large hands massaged your breasts, and reached down to rub your clit slowky as you felt Clark position himself, gently rubbing your slit with his tip. It had opened up to him through all of the loving attention, and was glistening with wetness.

Your eyes widened.

“Don’t… we shouldn’t…” you whispered, “Y-youre not wearing a condom.”

Bruce’s hands tightened around your wrists and lifted them pulling them backward to hook on his own neck. Your chest was so pushed up.

“It’s okay baby, we don’t need a condom,” Clark moaned, caressing your cheeks before his hands travelled down to your sides. He smiled kindly at you, and you found herself smiling back faintly, looking into his ice-blue eyes. You shivered as he slowly lowered himself, and the head of his cock gently nudged at your slit. You tensed a little, but felt your step-father massage your clit.

You gasped and arched a little when Clark penetrated you, and your step-father continued stroking you in a languid yet firm manner, his touches did much to soothe the passage and help you relax. You looked up at your Bruce for a moment, then back at Clark. Bruce tenderly caressed your cheeks and arms, while Clark's hands stroked along your sides. He was moving slowly, letting your get used to his girth, for he was almost as thick as his best friend. The wetness made it possible for him to move quite smoothly within you, and it was also so inviting.

It was tight and yes it was uncomfortable but with the support of Bruce’s hand, in no time, he was sheathed fully, and you stared up at him quietly feeling his balls pressed into your soft ass. He was heavy inside you, an unexpected pressure. The tip poked the sponge of your womb.

There was a few frightful seconds where all of you were silent save for your soft breathing. Bruce glanced at the tape, prepared to hear your screaming again...but it didnt come. And then Clark smiled lovingly down at you, comforting you at that moment, before leaning in and kissing your cheek.

“How do you feel?” he asked. You shyly huffed even more, but kept your eyes on him. You couldn’t decide whether to smile or grimace.

“I don't know. I... feel very full...” you replied softly, feeling Bruce’s fingers brush along your forehead.

Clark lifted your ankles up onto his shoulders and took a deep breath.

“The best part is yet to come, my sweet angel,” Bruce promised. Clark smiled, and began to gyrate his hips, sliding his shaft in and out of your tight cunt in a languid manner. The reaction was immediate. His cock dragged along your sensitive walls, and Bruce smiled as he watched his sweet little step-daughter squirm around in pleasure. Soon enough, he himself would be doing that to you.

Clark released a deep groan, clearly in bliss as he thrust into you. His speed was tempered and gentle, languorous, making sure that the length of his dick dragged along your gspot with each thrust to create that glorious friction. He wanted your first time to be something deep and tender. And it was working. You hissed and flexed your back into Bruce feeling Clarks entire cock within you as you clenched hard. It had hurt a little at first, but there was no denying the pleasure to be had, and the gentle caresses were doing much to heighten your experience.

“Sh-shit shit shit, oh my god, Clark! Clark I’m-”

Clarks gentle lovemaking pushed you towards your glorious shouting orgasm, and you cried out when you hit it, arching up against him, clenching around him almost painfully. You had ever felt anything so wonderful in your whole life! Bruce smiled as he saw this, and leaned down to place kisses along his mewling step-daughter’s face, massaging your breasts as he did so.

“Isn’t it wonderful, babygirl? Doesn’t it feel so good?” Bruce asked warmly. All you could do was nod. Clark shot you a charming smile, thrusting more firmly now, and he whispered your name when he finally came. Your clenching drew it out, and multiple shots of his seed squirted deep inside of you, filling your up.

Clark placed firm kisses along your face, remaining within your hot pussy for a few more moments. You turned your face towards him, nuzzling him back, as your lips peppered his cheeks, Clark started grinning happily. A few moments passed, some tender caresses, before Bruce chuckled and shifted. Clark looked up at him and smiled, sliding out of you a little too quickly. You whimpered pitifully at the stinging sensation of being emptied.

Clark laid beside you on his side as Bruce moved down the bed to inspect the mess his friend had created. Clark kept his eyes on you, he shot you another reassuring smile before propping your head up with his arm. He laid there relaxed and enjoying the waving endorphins made from his orgasm, still reeling from the pleasure that your sweet noises and tight pussy had given him.

Bruce gently rolled you onto your belly. Your cheek still pressed into the pillow made of Clarks bicep.

“On your knees, baby, stick that ass up for Daddy…” Bruce whispered. You huffed and wiggled your hips up, propping you up on your knees. It was a lovely sight, and he rubbed your behind, kneading the cheeks lovingly as he glanced at your swollen and glistening sex.

“Good girl,” he rumbled, patting your back softly.

You moaned softly, knowing what your step-father was about to do. At this point, you had given up on fighting off the two men, especially because it felt so good. You rested your head against Clark and sighed, staring at his eyes that gazed you lovingly. With is other hand, Clark stroked your face and hair softly as you awaited for your step-father to take you, your heart thundered with anticipation.

Bruce took a moment to admire the glorious vision before him. Your sweet pussy glistened, dripping and dribbling out the creamy white Clark had squirted deep inside. Your outer lips were swollen from the recent coupling you had. Your rear end glowed under the light of the bedroom lamp, looking so plump and inviting.

“You’re so gorgeous, princess. How Clark and I resisted you for this long, god only knows,” Bruce chuckled and rubbed your bum.

You gave out a soft but contented sigh before he was pressing the head of his needy pole against his your slit, rubbing it up and down the opening a few times. You moaned softly and squirmed a little, but made no real attempt to flee.

Bruce grabbed your hips and gave a strong thrust, his cock sliding inside of you to the base with little effort despite your tightness. You whimpered out softly, in slight pain but more in surprise, and looked over your shoulder at your Step-father again.

Clark wolfishly grinned at you, as Bruce’s hips immediately thrusting back and forth. He pounded into you, hard and fast, your body quivering under him.

Clark’s lovemaking had been languorous and gentle, more than suitable for your first time. But Bruce’s way of taking you was savage and primal. Despite it...you found yourself enjoying this as well. It was rough and deeply bruising. You would be able to feel it tomorrow.

Bruce was not hurting you, it was not unbearable agony as he slammed his hips fiercely. Clark watched with half-lidded eyes, listening to your whines and touching your face every now and then as if to reassure you.

Bruce punched his cock into you with the ferocity of an animal in heat. You were so wonderfully tight and hot that it was impossible to just hold back.

“F-Fuck, Daddy!!!”

The way you responded to him, arching towards him and making small sounds of pleasure and mewls of pain only spurred him on even more. His heavy balls slapped against the back of your thighs, and you strangled around him with your walls. He gave out a low growl as he cummed, creaming deep inside.

You whimpered out another heightened, ‘Daddy!’ as your body quivered, your teeth chattering just slightly.

You bit your lip almost hard enough to cause it to bleed as you hit another orgasm, your eyes rolled back and clenching around him hard, trapping his cock inside with your tightness.

You looked at your step-father over your shoulder as he continued thrusting in you, his cock remained erect for a few moments before slowly becoming flaccid. You looked over at Clark then back at Bruce, whimpering out 'Daddy' again as you felt cum dribble down your opening. He stayed within your cunt for a while, panting as he relaxed his muscles. Smirking, he pulled out of your tightness and stroked your rump.

“Good girl baby...”

You remained on your knees for several more moments, cum still dribbling out a little as he traced his fingers along the firm curve of your rear end. What you had been through was unbelievable. You had just been dominated and fucked by the two men you cared most about in the world...one of them was your step-father. It seemed almost too impossible to believe, like it all had to been some sick dream- any moment you would wake up to find yourself alone, dressed, inside your own bed....But did you want this to be a dream?

The more you thought, the less sick it seemed to be...morally it was wrong...but at the end of the day, you weren’t related and Bruce was sure to take care of you just like he always had along with your own mother. Your mother might not have approved if she was alive...but...there was nothing she could do now.

And Clark was just as caring and understanding of your passions....So both clearly loved you, very much....

You felt Clark caress your cheek once more, and you looked to him as your hips fell down limp. He offered you a smile before leaning over to press his lips to your forehead.

“You did so well darlin’.”

You shyly smiled, feeling Bruce lay down behind you.

You felt Bruce slide something cold between your wrists and slice through the pink tape.

Your eyes fluttered. You could hear Bruce put that sharp object most likely a knife in his bed side drawer.

He cupped your wrists and gently massaged them, kissing the raw area. He then scooped you up into his arms, holding you close, as if he wanted to rock you to sleep. You rolled onto your back and looked between them. They were two content lions gazing down at the sweet kitten in their bed. Both of them held pleased but loving expressions on their faces, and you smiled shyly a little and buried your nose in into the blue sweat soaked sheets. Under the gentle embrace and caresses, you closed your eyes.

You felt one of them, you didn’t know or care who, pull up a duvet, covering your quivering body. The men sighed happily at one another as you snuggled sweetly between them.

It was a fact to acknowledge with their cum growing dry on your thighs how they now would never let you go. They would take you in the morning, and whenever either of them pleased from then on. You were there’s...you belonged to them, and they would always do everything to prove their desire for you. You fell asleep in their embrace, you pressed your face into Clarks chest, while you pressed your backside into Bruce’s hips. snuggled up to both of them, while their affectionate caresses and whispers lulled you to sleep.

★★★

When morning arrived it was still pitch black thanks to the roll down tinted glass windows.

Bruce’s grey his eyes cracked awake slowly, to the sounds of your soft snoring. Your soft cheek was pressed against his chest after the night of shuffling you must’ve done in your sleep. ‘What a wonderfully sweet thing to wake up to,’ he thought, smiling as he traced his fingertips gently along your other cheek. He looked to his left at the big bulk of a man under the covers.

Clark was still sleeping, his arm was covering your hip. Your plump rear end was against his stomach, and Bruce smiled at you both.

Your sweet drooling face stirred slightly as your cheek was caressed, but you remained asleep. Being cushioned and cradled in the warmth of two big men had surprisingly helped you to sleep well, as you had been so comforted by the obvious affection they had shown you. If they didn’t care about you, they would have simply raped you bloody and never paid mind to your pleasure they never would’ve focused on your feelings and overall care.

Clark loved you and wanted to be your husband, he had been serious when he asked for your hand in marriage. It was in the plan but Bruce knew Clark wanted to ask ages ago...

And Bruce loved you too, he wanted your utmost happiness but he desired your overall safety and company. If you left for college he wouldn’t know when he’d see you again...if ever...considering you held no real “blood” obligation to him.

Clark and he were good friends, and sharing you had been a odd thought at first, but last night proved that it would work out well between the three of you. And it was very comfortable, and would continue to be comfortable – after all, both of them wanted your happiness, love and companionship.

Bruce pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Wake up, baby girl, it’s daddy...” he whispered into your ear, gently nibbling along your earlobe. Your eyelids fluttered open and you whimpered softly, a bit disoriented at first as was common on waking up in a place so different to your bedroom but the disorientation faded as you rubbed your eyes and turned your head upwards a bit to look up at the eyes of your doting step-father smiling softly down at you.

“Good morning, Daddy...” you said softly, wiping the sleep away from your eyes and blinking a few times as you felt a hand caress along your hip, you didn’t know who it belonged to, but did that even matter?

“Good morning, sweet angel... Did you sleep alright?” he asked, caressing your hair. Clark stirred but did not wake. You shyly nodded. Last night was beyond taboo and though you were not entirely angry or disgusted, it would take a bit getting used to.

“I am glad...” Bruce replied before he chuckled softly and fondled your side. He looked over at Clark and smiled.

“...Will you marry him?” he whispered, kissing your cheek. You stared at him for a few moments before nodding slowly. You did not see why not – Clark was a good man and you had no interest in anyone else.

Bruce nodded, smiling happily. He was ecstatic that you had accepted Clark’s hand, and now you would be truly a family inside Wayne’s manor.

“What about you, Daddy?” you asked softly as your step-father’s hand gently caressed your side, “....Don’t you want me anymore,” your eyes glanced away in embarrassment considering how pathetic you sounded asking....

“Mmm,” he pecked the tip of your nose, “Clark and I already discussed this...I would like to keep our closeness when you are wed... Clark and I have shared many passions in the past...towards each other and it does not bother him.”

Your eyes started to widen. You didn’t know your step-dad was just as sexually active with men.

“He really agrees to this? You two... have no problem with... sharing?” you whispered as you rolled over onto your back to gain a more accurate gaze upon Bruce.

“Not at all...” he chuckled, “We are too good a pair of friends to fight over something wonderful like this as spectacular as you.” He stated.

You smiled and looked down shyly. He looked over at Clark once more and smirked almost deviously.

He reached out and playfully thumbed your nipples.

“Baby girl, it looks like Clark is a heavy sleeper...how about you go and wake him up for me?” His tone was seductive, and low. You could see from the corner of your eyes the two hardening peaks growing out of the bed sheets.

Bruce pushed his side down and cupped himself, using his enclosed first like a sight hole.

“C’mon baby, go wake up your other daddy,” he groaned.

You gasped and flushed even more as you stated at your step-father for several moments before carefully crawling over to Clark again.

You placed a gentle kisses along his face, saving his lips for last. Your hand caressed along his smooth chest, slowly making its way down to his morning organ. His nipples were given attention, your fingers teasing over the pink nubs and making them taut. Your palm felt along the toned muscles of his abdomen, and stroked the coarse dark hair above his cock, teasing your fingers along the treasure trail. The thin hairs had started as a thin, tapering line several inches below his navel, and spread out gradually to the thatch over his cock.

Bruce watched calmly, not at all bothered by his friend’s nakedness. He did not stare at Clark either, he just watched with interest at what you, his step-daughter was doing. You had such a lovely soft hand. You slowly patted the neither hairs as you started sucking on Clark’s angry red tip.

You flattened your tongue and looked over, making full eye contact with Bruce While he jerked off languishingly. He smirked and winked at you.

“Suck his cock babygirl, suck Papa’s cock.”

Papa...Daddy...oh god...what were you getting yourself into.

You leant your face down, filling your cheeks with the tip of his pink cock tip. Your tongue raised around the skin and flicked under the folds. You tried not to think about the smell but the taste alone. It was bitter, salty and a little tangy.

“M-mmh...” Clark let out a soft noise of pleasure, face blissfully slack. His manhood stirred and began to rise a bit, the touches arousing him even when he slept.

“Clarkkkkk...” Bruce cooed in a soft purr, gently touching his shoulder while you lapped at his foreskin, and Bruce started growing aroused, wanting to stick himself inside of you as he had a grand view of your little cunt, dried with flakes of white on your skin.

At the mention of his name, the man stirred and opened his eyes, smiling a bit, raising a hand to lazily wipe the sleep from his eyes.

“A-ah...Good morning...” he said, blurrily looking down at what you were doing. You smiled sweetly and placed a gentle kiss on his tip as you brought him to full attention.

“Clark?” you asked softly.

“Yes sweetheart?...hngh...” he shuddered, shifting a bit, his cock rising further. Bruce shivered, running his fingertips along your rear.

“I will be your wife,” You whispered softly. He tilted his head, and a wide grin came to his face. Hooking one arm around your arm he tugged you up to him to abandon you morning blowjob. He sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss. When you parted, he purred.

“Thank you sweet girl, I vow to always cherish you like last night and every encounter we’ve met.” His words made you giggle happily, as you had no real doubt of his respect for you.

He heard the fwapping sound of Bruce masturbating, watching you.

“Have you talked Bruce?” he added.

Your lashes fluttered.

“I accept him as well. I...I will stay home. College can wait or I can try online courses...You can both have me,” You whispered. Bruce ran a fingertip along your slit. You shivered and moaned, wiggling your rear end at Bruce as you kissed Clark again, your hand returned to slowly pumping his engorged organ.

Bruce smiled, he rubbed your slit gently and lazily, feeling the flesh quiver a bit and begin to slicken up. Clark moaned softly into your lips and his hand moved down, cupping one of your breasts and carefully kneading it, plucking at your nipples. You gave out a soft whine of pleasure and looked at Clark for a moment before looking back at Bruce.

“Daddy...” You pouted, “...stop teasing me.” You reached out to his cock with your other hand. In each palm you held two thick cocks at the same time and went about squeezing and licking them like a game....unwittingly teasing them both to release. The men both gradually sat up on their elbows. Before either of them could cum however, you let their cocks go and sat back, facing them with a childish smirk, biting your lip.

If they wanted to be depraved, you could be too...you wondered if they’d tie and gag you again. Would they pushed you around manhandle and humiliate you again?...a real sensational thrill soaked your bones at the thought. What a fantastic opportunity to test that theory...

You didn’t leave that room for probably three whole days except to use the master bathroom...

Alfred decided not to intervene.. after all it was Master Wayne he was paid by, not you.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again. 

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost. 

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track. 

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear. 

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace. 

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood. 

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud. 

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore. 

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay. 

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging. 

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you. 

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him. 

“You’re up again.” 

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step. 

“And you shouldn’t be.” 

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet. 

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.” 

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you. 

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world. 

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will. 

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too. 

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him. 

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid. 

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim. 

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side. 

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.  

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him. 

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-” 

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp. 

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.” 

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm. 

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion. 

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound. 

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did. 

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier. 

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.” 

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason. 

“Javi…” 

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.” 

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder. 

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.” 

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness. 

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead. 

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him. 

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.  

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one? 

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself. 

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more. 

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems. 

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do. 

“I love you. I love you, Javi.” 

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you. 

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.” 

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.” 

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again. 

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between. 

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.” 

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[st4rbe0m]

PAIRING ▸ Nishimura Riki x fem!reader

SUMMARY ▸"Am I dating Y/N L/N? No thanks, I'd rather choke." Or in which you're clearly using some sort of spell to entice Riki, because why on earth would he suddenly start feeling this way about you?

GENRE ▸one-sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, she fell first but he fell harder, angst (lots of it), slow-ish burn.

WARNINGS ▸ swearing, featuring Eunchae from LeSserafim as your best friend and some additional cameos by other idols, some of dickish behaviour from Riki at the start :(, kissing, mentions of curses, occults knowledge, spells and witchcraft.

WC ▸ 7.1K

A/N ▸ Thank you for the immense support for this on the teaser!! I hope this lives up to your expectations, and I hope you guys enjoy the rest of my work as well :)

PLAYLIST ▸ Voodoo Doll by 5 Seconds of Summer, Kiss Me Kiss Me by 5 Seconds of Summer, Brought the Heat Back by Enhypen, Stockholm Syndrome by One Direction

masterlist

The air is a sweet smelling summer type, the day you first meet Nishimura Riki. He's a scrawny little thing of twig arms and downcast, shy eyes. Having moved to Korea from Japan only barely a month back, the number of words he can say in this newfound land in the foreign language can be counted on one hand. And this poses a problem to him right now, considering how his older sister had already gone off on her own despite their mother's strict orders to stay together at all times. You spot the boy, a sprightly little thing yourself, and the first thing you notice is his eyes. The most gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes. They looked like the black beetles you saw in the spring - lazing on the dark brown tree trunks, absolutely fascinating and captivating.

Nishimura Riki is six years old and scared. He's at a playground with kids his age, but he feels like an alien in his own skin. They're all either playing in groups or duos - but no dice for singles. It's times like this that makes him want to clutch on to the fabric of his mother's dress and be whisked away to safety. A place where he doesn't feel so out of place. His soft, trembling body stills in a bit of surprise as a gentle tap knocks on his shoulder, ever so slightly. Turning around fearful of being picked on, he only comes face to face with a girl. You're looking straight at him with owlish, unblinking eyes that make Riki shiver in your gaze - feeling smaller and smaller than before. He doesn't like how you're looking at him, not in the slightest. "Hi there! I'm Y/N L/N. Are you new here?" You're quite articulate for a kid, he thinks, as if he's not one himself. He's barely managed to string together the meaning of what you said through his broken understanding of the language, but it's the general environment about you that makes him hesitate. His lack of a response doesn't deter you apparently, as suddenly you're latching on to his wrist, trying to pull him to the sand pit, babbling on and on about being his new friend and offering to show him around town. He doesn't know how to get out of your vice-like grip, but he doesn't mind your company either. But it's just all too much. There's too many things going on around him, and you're too loud.

Suddenly, he's wrenching his hand out of yours, a scowl on his youthful features. It's a frown directed right at you like a bullet, but it leaves you unscathed. You still look at him with a complete look of innocence, completely boring into his own eyes. There's something about the way you look at him, and he hates it. He notices the way you hold no precise expression on your face, only a peaceful and serene look coupled with the way one would gaze when they felt curious and fascinated. He decides at that moment, with all the iron resolve of a six year old boy, that he hated this girl. He hated you and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you.

But this was in no way similar to the way you were feeling currently. With the way that inky void in his eyes were pulling you in like a siren song, you decided that you loved Nishimura Riki. 

11 years later

"Riki! Riki!". Your chants are loud even amongst the bustling crowd of attendees, all mingling about on the bleachers, eyes trained on the orange basketball as the squeaking sound of shoes against the polished wooden floor accentuated the tension of this cut-throat game. Jersey number 9, tallest on the team and jet black hair that had everyone reeling in his subtle aura, Riki's eyes are piercing as his focus solely stays on two things - the first being how to get past the rival team's defense, and the second being how annoying your cheering was to him.

Their opposing team is not letting them cut through this bottle neck tie easily, and the red timer with its robotic, digital numbers clocking down to the game's end was not really helping either. It was right now, or never. And Riki never let a game get to the tie-breaker, ever. He's quick and sharp witted, and he's got the athletic skill to get past the crowding defense team, and with a crisp swish of the white net hanging on the post, the ball is swiftly sent through the basket. The whistle is loud, but the rest of his teammates are louder, wasting no time in running on the court to aggressively smother their prodigal player in affection and sweat, with Riki glaring away at them in faux irritation, but clearly preening in their pride. This was an important game after all, because it would be the game that would help team captain, Lee Heesung, who was graduating this spring, to choose the next in line to his legacy. And anyone with two eyes, who wasn't even on the team could easily say it belonged to Riki.

Your voice is back, louder again this time, and it has Riki grimacing amongst the celebrations, and Sunoo and Taki, his friends who had descended from the stands themselves, gave each other a knowing look of what was about to occur.

You're singing praises and it has him glowing, regardless of the frown marrying his sharp features. "God, that was so cool! You're so, so tall, it must have been an advantage for sure, but wow I mean that basket? Crazy!"

He's still glaring at you and his teammates have wry smiles on their faces. Your praises quieten down when you, and Riki, notice Lee Heesung walking over to Riki with a championing grin that only means one thing. Ushering Riki away, you just gazed at him at raw adoration as the boy's face lit up with the news Heesung was breaking him.

"By the way dude, are you dating that girl there? Y/N L/N?"

The question has him coughing slightly from the water he was chugging down. Sunoo and Taki are cackling violently at his expression, like Heesung had performed the most blasphemous act in front of him. "Heesung, what the hell dude. I'm not dating her, at all. I'll only date Y/N when pigs start flying."

He looks back to where you stood before, now gone from that spot. You always waited a bit before you left, usually, trying to catch him and make conversation with him, so this was new. A different kind of feeling he wasn't sure he was used to. It was strange, how he felt a bit different from the absence of you.

"Look, oh my god!" Taki cries out, pointing vaguely at the air. "What?" "I just saw a pig fly." “Shut the fuck up man.”

You were a curse sent from hell to torment him, that much was sure. He wasn’t sure what penance he was due to pay in this life for his previous actions that caused you to appear in his life, considering how since that moment on the playground, you’ve done nothing to actually make his life any better. And while he was explaining this very situation to Heesung, who was now sporting an amused grin at the way the normally nonchalant Riki’s mouth seemed to fly a mile a minute, Sunoo interrupted with a gasp at a particularly harsh tease. “She isn’t even doing anything bad you prick! I’d kill to have someone crush on me that long!”

“Oh you can have her then, Sun. I do not want to see her in my life ever again once we’re out of here.” He huffs.

The various examples of the ways you’d managed to make things bad for him seemed to resurface to his mind almost immediately, souring his mood. Like when in middle school, when he bagged the hottest girl of their grade, Choi Ri-ah, to go out with him. It was magical to Riki, that eighth grade relationship - mainly because him being in it meant having you off his back. Your displeasure with his newfound relationship status was not a secret either, no your distaste was very clear, with the way you’d frown when they would walk in the hallways together holding hands, which in eighth grade, was a very big deal. It didn’t help that Ri-ah was also your quote unquote, sworn enemy. The two of you had hated each other's guts since almost preschool, and the sickening punch in the stomach was how she’d managed to be with the only guy you’d ever loved. But Riki didn’t know any of that. And frankly, he didn’t care much about his and Ri-ah’s conversations or dates, where he would nod along as she talked his ears off about getting new earrings or the summer holiday her father was planning, where she was going to get the most outrageous tan. Sure, he liked her. But he liked not hearing your voice constantly bugging him more. 

“Dude she didn’t end your relationship with Ri-ah! Ri-ah was already going after another guy from that prep school, she just needed an excuse to end the relationship and made Y/N the scapegoat.” Taki told him exasperatedly, which just fell on deaf ears, because Riki was still convinced that you were the reason for the demise of his juvenile dating plan. Ri-ah had broken up with him seemingly out of the blue, over text, claiming that she felt uncomfortable dating a boy who was so coveted by another girl. And when fourteen year old Riki read that heartbreaking message curled up in his duvet at 10PM on a Tuesday, he just felt a bitter pill of hatred for you. Nothing had changed in the six years since that fateful meeting at the playground, no. You still made Riki shudder.

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

“He’s absolutely phenomenal.” You breathe out in a sigh, full of awe as you watch Riki skirt across the court with lightning speed. The dreamy looks and the lovestruck sounds was like routine to Eunchae, who had honestly even given up on rolling her eyes at you, because with the way she’d spent the last 10 years doing the same, she was afraid her eyes would get stuck at the back of the skull due to routine. It was truly a wonder how you hadn’t given up immediately after the first few tries - when he was extremely stubborn in denouncing the “Y/N’s boyfriend” title he’d earned. But you had your justification ready to go - that he never outright rejected you. Sure, he politely declined some invitations, but never a word against your feelings as such. It still raised the question, as to how you could chase a guy around this long. Because to you, the reason was quite fundamental - his eyes were still beautiful, and most importantly, they held no hate. Not an ounce of it, no matter how hard he tried to emulate it, which gave you hope. 

Unfortunately hope was a wonderful thing for sure, but also dangerous. It was quite the cycle you’d found yourself stuck in, and you weren’t honestly sure how long you could afford to linger as nothing but a mandatory footnote to him. It was eating away at you. But hope, hope made you hold on.

Only Eunchae knew about the firm decision you’d taken last night. After all, she was your closest friend. And she even held you, as you solemnly promised to yourself, on the eve of the 11th anniversary of the day you first met Riki, to leave him behind forever, if there wasn’t any improvement in his behavior, or general perception of you. It was shocking, and honestly a huge decision. But firm in its promise, that last hook of hope would be gone soon by tomorrow. 

“You know he ignored you again, right?” Eunchae points out for the nth time, and like always that doesn’t deter you, as you gaze lovingly upon where the soon-to-be former captain Heesung was talking to Riki about leading the team, a position quite coveted which you were very proud of Riki for acquiring. The pride that swelled in your heart was immense, but the cold words you heard Riki utter were like a small pin-prick on your heart. He was tense from the game, and let’s be honest, you’d always managed to survive the weight of his brash words. But why did this one hurt so much? Were you reaching your breaking point, finally? No wonder you’d tipped and already decided to get over him last night.

Snapping yourself out of these negative emotions, you decided to busy yourself a bit away from the bleachers and Heesung and Riki, focusing on Eunchae as she tried to decide where to grab a snack before you both went off to your own houses. 

“I hate Y/N L/N. I wish she just left my life, because she’s what makes it worse.”

The sound of his voice has always been melodious to you. It had a deep timbre and was almost soothing. But right now, you felt anything far from soothed. Your throat was closing up into a lump, and you huffed slightly as you blinked away tears. Eunchae’s eyes were blown wide in shock, and were slowly beginning to narrow in anger. Your movements were almost automatic as your hand reached out to stop Eunchae from storming out from your hiding spots’, the fuming girl looking like she was ready to punch Nishimura across the face immediately. The tears were burning into your lower lash line like furious embarrassment, making you more and more smaller, wishing now more than ever that the ground swallowed you whole. You kept telling yourself over and over again, that this wasn’t the first time you’d heard words of this type uttered against you by him. But it was like a disenchanting spell on you, the way a veil lifted off your eyes. A crack in the rose tinted looking-glass you always stared at him through. 

“Y/N”, Eunchae’s voice is a careful whisper, sensing your vulnerability as your best friend. She knew you long enough to tell that those extremely cruel, mean words did more than just a regular rebound on your thick skin. She was cooling down in an attempt to comfort you, rubbing your arm in support. Your lower lip was wobbling, and you felt like someone had slapped you hard across the cheek. You weren’t that annoying to put up with, were you?

Your heart felt stomped on at that point, and you wanted nothing more than to get away. As shocking as it was, you couldn’t stomach being around Riki right now, and hastily grabbing Eunchae and making a beeline towards the exit, your downtrodden expression morphed to anger as your shoulder harshly bumped against Riki’s, who’s expression you couldn’t tell with the way you could only see red. Your decision was ironclad now, if it wasn’t firm already. This was the moment you’d decided to get over Nishimura Riki. 

The touch of your shoulder against his was like a static current being passed through his skin, in the most pleasant way possible. Like he craved it. Riki was baffled, and even more so when he realized it was you, and your usually ever-present adoration from him being blatantly missing, even in this short interaction, if it even be called that. He felt a twinge of concern for you, which he suppressed easily. This was the Y/N he was talking about. Any emotion for you rather than disgust? No thank you!

However, it was strange. For the first time in your life, you felt almost nothing for Nishimura Riki. And for the first time in his life, he felt something for you. 

It’s been a week since the fateful basketball game. You’ve been through the stages of grief quite quickly, storming through each of them with Eunchae helping you along, although your headstrong need to get better did worry her, that you weren’t actually processing your pain to heal. But to hell with all that. No, you wanted to eviscerate any remaining thought of Riki from your head immediately. The school day seems to be quite regular, with spring break just a mere two weeks away, that had people buzzing with low energy in the hallways, all in the state of deciding their spring break plans. Your spring break plans weren’t anything fancy, or anything at all rather - with the main idea being that you’d while away the time with your best friend, doing all the fun activities you could possibly do. And a break that you were sure would be the final nail in the coffin that contained the corpse of your feelings for Riki, the dark haired boy who up till now kept an iron grip on your heart.

The boy in question, like you, had also spent the previous week raging through some emotions. But in his case, rather he found them very confusing and very out of character. Of course, he wasn’t self actualised enough to work through them, and that led him to create a stubborn mindspace - that you, Y/N L/N were messing with his head by purposely ignoring him. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you, your presence and the recent lack of. Your voice wasn’t greeting him in the homeroom every morning anymore, and it was a change many had noticed, but not yet commented on. He found this pit in his stomach from the first week, the immediate day after the match, when he saw you sitting in class - head bent, hair falling over your face messily. And for a fleeting second, his hand had to fight off the urge to get up and brush them away. Your eyes looked slightly swollen, with a faint bloodshot look, like you’d spent the night crying rather than sleeping. It made his chest ache and his head spin slightly. What the hell? When the hell did he feel sorry for Y/N L/N? When the hell did he feel anything for Y/N L/N?

That was about three days ago, and that same pit in his stomach has been growing ever since. He, for whatever reason, missed you. Instead of coming face to face with this fact, he turned his back on it, and it was killing him. Pinpricks of pain would shoot through him whenever he noticed you deliberately changing your path on noticing him walk towards your way. God, it’s like he was a hostage to your feelings all these years, and automatically he felt guilty of thinking about you that way. You just liked him right? Why was he even so rude to you?

His behavior, and his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by all of his friends, even the basketball team, who were more than aware of your absence at practice anymore. Whatever you were doing to remove Riki from your life might be working in your favor, but it was ruining him. 

His brain felt like someone was swirling its contents around with a spatula, making a mess of his thoughts and his emotions. He hadn’t wasted a moment in spilling his dilemma to Sunoo, and invariably the guys he was closest to on the basketball team - Jake, Sunghoon, Jay and Heesung. The team itself were all in all pretty much aware of how the youngest was going through quite the mind-boggling series of epiphanies (if it could even be called that. Jay liked to refer to it as just a dumbass waking up from his stupidity sleep). 

“Dude, I just don’t know anymore. Her not being there is very odd to me? I just can’t get used to it.” Riki sighs, shaking his head as he thumbs around his packet of Cheetos, slumping against the cafeteria wall, while the rest of his group gathered around him like a pack, eagerly listening in. “But isn’t that what you wanted? So there must be something else then? Maybe you didn’t mind her as much as you let on?” Jake inquired, his head tilting like a confused puppy. That had Riki scratching his head again. He saw you this morning by your locker. You were catching up with Eunchae, both of you laughing boldly to whatever Eunchae had just said, and there was a glow on your face as your eyes crinkled in amusement, which made a heartbeat skip in his chest. He was staring longingly at you, and it seemed like you noticed, because your eyes met his in scrutiny - your single glance making him feel like that six year old at the playground again. 

When you were in freshman year, you had developed a fascination with reading horror novels and mangas and watching horror movies very frequently. Something about spirits and the occult had interested you very much, and many people around you knew about this hobby of yours. If anyone had any doubts about the intricacies of rituals and possessions, spells and witchcraft, they’d just go to you. Right now, Riki thinks that’s exactly what’s happening to him - you’d used your occult knowledge to put a spell on him. Of course, he knew how ridiculous he sounded. But he felt like he was bound to you, and couldn’t shake off your spell no matter how much he tried. And it was purely on him. This was just all so,so confusing, which he decided not to voice out to his friends until he himself had gotten a grip on what was happening to him. How he kept thinking about your little habits. Day before yesterday, he found himself soaked in sweat and thirsty beyond comparison after practice. Parched and defeated, he stumbled along to the locker room to find his flavored water that one of his teammates usually kept in his locker for him, only to come up empty handed. 

“Jake, have you seen my flavored water? I figured you usually put one in my locker.” He asked nonchalantly, only to find Jake, and the rest of the team that entered the room in a state of sly smiles, stifled giggles and shock. 

“Dude, we never did any of that. Y/N did that, she’d purchase the fancy water for you and put it in your locker before we came for practice.” 

It made him feel different. He was blinking slow, and his brain was sluggish. You did that for him? God, you were so sweet, weren’t you. He already felt a bit sad about not seeing your bright grin that you directed to him in the morning (even though he always dismissed it with ignorance), but this was the cherry on top. You had loved him to death, and now he was a dead man walking without you. 

“He looked at you, you know.” Eunchae is careful in her observation, but she knows you noticed too. Your pupils seem narrowed, and your lips are drawn in a tight line as you contemplate that look he gave you. You still couldn’t fight off the feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you met his eyes - those gorgeous, beetle-black eyes that had a magnetic pull to them. But within the haze of your flusteredness, you’d managed to catch the slight look of misery in them. He was looking at you like he was an injured puppy, lost without you. But your resolve was stronger. With the utmost focus, you managed to drive away the maddening thoughts of the possibility of him missing you away, and walked away with Eunchae. 

Over the weekend, Riki had realized that being away from you was driving him insane. So on Monday, he was pulling his chair close to yours in the classroom, the metallic screech against the wooden flooring making everyone turn their heads to the scene, their eyes widening in shock at what was unfolding in front of their eyes. How on Earth was Nishimura Riki sitting next to Y/N L/N? Your thoughts were also very similar to the rest of your classmates, because what was happening right now? Riki, the boy you’d put your heart dangerously on the line for was right here, sitting next to you. His movements were awkward and he was fiddling with his fingers while casting shy glances towards you, reminding you of the scared six year old version of him you’d met at the playground. There is a faint red crawling up his pale ears, and he clears his throat roughly, before saying “Is it alright if I sit here?”

Your all consuming feelings seemed to come back like a crashing wave on the shore the moment he uttered those words to you, and you just nodded wordlessly, too shocked to say anything.

You look too pretty this morning, and it’s messing with his head. Riki’s beating himself up internally, because this wouldn’t be so difficult if you weren’t so goddamn beautiful for some reason. He nods when you do, and then gets to his work. His proximity feels dizzying to you, and the scent of his cologne makes it harder for you to focus on the work in front of you. He’s biting into his lip hard, to suppress the urge to just hold your hand. The smell of your shampoo, the warmth of your thigh being barely centimeters next to you. You’re both so horribly blind and it is just painful to you both, unbeknownst to each of you. 

Nishimura Riki liked you. He really, really liked you. And as he turned his head to see your face, accented by the golden sunlight and eyes sparkling like dewdrops in the early morning, he knew that even if he wanted to run, he couldn't. He was trapped under your spell, and the thought of it made him smile. 

The following days are filled with such odd interactions with Riki. He always found an excuse to find you first in classrooms, or walk you to the cafeteria. You suddenly found yourself back at basketball practices again, but this time forcefully dragged to the court by Riki, and an amused Eunchae in tow. He was there to offer you snacks and drinks from the vending machine. He helped you with homework and you helped him with his. Whatever diabolical game he was playing was working wonders on you, because suddenly all you could see behind your closed eyes was his gorgeous face. 

The rest of the student body isn’t blind to his newfound affection for you. It’s all they’ve been talking about the entire time. His teammates slap his back in teasing jests while he shoos them all away, all the while that smile never leaving his face. 

“There’s no way!” You’re laughing hard, and yours and Riki’s shared giggles are quite audible over the soccer field. You’re both sitting on the grass just after practice, where Riki’s cooling off in the gentle breeze blowing across the grass. He’s telling you about some antics he had put up in class to get away from not turning in assignments, which involved a fake rubber rat and a very scared Calculus teacher. You’re wiping tears from your eyes from the laughter while Riki shakes his head in amusement. The breeze blows a single leaf to land right on top of your head, and it makes you giggle harder. 

He shuffles a bit closer to you, arm raising up to remove the leaf from your head. His breath is warm as it fans across your warming cheeks, the narrowed distance between you both not being lost on either of you. His eyes meet yours, and you’re still a goner for them. He gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing in nervousness, yet he makes no attempt to move away. Instead, he feels a bold surge in him. His finger loops around the bow on your school uniform, tugging the ribbon and invariably, you, forward towards him, making the breath in your throat hitch, and your eyes becoming wide as saucers. His eyes dip to your cupid’s bow, and scan over your lips and how they’re parted. Riki spends not a second more pressing his lips to yours, and you’re in heaven. 

The walk back to your house is full of shy touches, and the warmth of your hand in his. Riki’s lips are still tingling where yours were just moments ago. He can’t even begin to fathom how he ended up here - from loathing you to wanting to kiss you again. He was addicted to you and wanted more of you. But these things needed to be paced, and Riki wanted it done right. Bidding you goodbye in front of your house, where you left him with another giggle-pressed kiss to his cheek and a warm buzz filling his body, he was absolutely enamored by Y/N L/N.

The next day, he wakes up and it’s a good day. It’s a good day because he’s going to ask you out finally. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, just because of the implausibility of the situation. There was a brightness surrounding the boy all throughout, a contrast to his regular attitude. Sunoo and Taki had been updated already, and he was planning to tell the team, the rest of his friends during practice, after which he would ask you on a date during your regular after-practice hangouts. Except for the life of him he couldn’t find you, at all. It was unfortunate that today was the day of the announcement of the student council election results, for which classes were mostly halted, since the student council was quite a big deal 

He’s scanning around to find you amongst the crowd of the assembly where the results were to be announced - only to spot you a bit later. Also, he notices that you’re not alone. You’re grinning (a bit too much for his liking, if he's being honest) at Yang Jungwon, the boy who was the sure-shot winner of the President position. You’re too close to him, and it makes his heart clench. He’s biting his tongue until it almost bleeds. He doesn’t get an opportunity to speak to you, as the event commences. He just decides to wait till later, ignoring the pain in his chest he got from seeing you with another guy. 

“The President of this year’s student council is Yang Jungwon.” There’s a smattering of loud applause, and even Riki joins in half-heartedly, still wounded over what he was previously. “The position of Vice President goes to his running mate, Y/N L/N!”. 

He’s still in his place, though his heart bursts with pride and joy for you, his eyes drinking in your excited run up to the stage, shaking hands with the Principal of the school. Your face is broken into the biggest smile ever, and your eyes are shining from pure happiness. Why didn’t you tell him? Why didn’t he know you were going for it? Or that Jungwon was your running mate?”

But all in all he’s very, very happy and proud of you, so he squishes down that ugly feeling of jealousy in him, and focuses on how you somehow look directly right at him. Your smile drops a little when you notice he isn’t clapping, a fact Riki himself didn’t realize, too busy staring in awe at you. It takes Eunchae’s loud hollering in the crowd to break you out of your stupor and your return to your regular state. 

He’s changing out of his practice clothes, feeling a bit down from the events that actually happened today and how he’d expected it to go. He hadn’t been able to catch a moment alone with you after the ceremony, and four of the older members of the team were missing from practice today too, since Jay was the treasurer of the previous session, he had to oversee the handing over of the duties to the newer batch. Practice, because of that, ended up being him, and the benchwarmers and people he didn’t really know all that well. It was something he had to get used to as the new captain, so he figured this would serve as a good preview. He was talking to another benchwarmer of his grade, Junhee, while changing. Junhee wasn’t necessarily a good person, if Riki was honest. He always hung out with the rash crowd and got into fights because of his crass nature. He placed the small box of chocolates he’s managed to quickly buy for you from a store outside school, a sticky note with your name and a congratulation scrawled on it, down on the metallic bench as he gathered up the rest of his things. This doesn’t escape Junhee’s notice, who smirks lazily as he spots the name on the post-it. 

“No way, Nishimura. She did it, huh?”

Riki already doesn’t like the way he refers to you as just someone, and it sets his skin aflame. “Hmm?” he responds half-heartedly, not at all interested in maintaining a conversation with Junhee of all people. “Well, doesn’t it make sense, Nishimura? She’s into that horror shit right? Clearly she’s made a voodoo doll of you and forced you to love her. Manifestation shit, am I right?”

Riki’s blood is boiling as he hears what Junhee is saying, but for some reason he says nothing back. It’s like he’s trapped in this vortex in his mind fueled by the insecurity he felt from seeing you with Jungwon, or how he felt out of the loop about your co-curricular adventure. Staying mum, he just grabbed the chocolate box, and turned around, only to gasp in shock to see you standing right there. Your mouth is twisted downwards in disappointment, and you’re staring at him with absolute loathing in your eyes right now. He rushed forward towards you, ready to explain, and also wanting desperately to punch the snickering Junhee behind him, who was now slinking away from the scene. 

It feels like there is a knife in your back and twisting itself in your flesh all over again. There is a panic rising in your throat, suffocating you overwhelmingly. It’s jarring and mind-boggling. So before Riki gets to you, you run.

Eunchae is gathering you up in her arms as your inconsolable state renders you helpless, slumping on the floor of your bedroom, finding it harder to breathe as the sadness keeps washing over you in painful crashes, making you feel weaker and weaker as the time goes. 

“Why does he hate me, Eun? He kissed me, didn’t he? So why is he so cruel?”

The six boys in Riki’s room are trying their best with damage control, as they all had rushed over to his house when Riki had texted them in a panic and explained what had gone down. “But why didn’t you defend yourself in front of Junhee in the first place man?”, Taki asks frustratedly, tugging at his hair. Riki frowns, trying to ignore the flashes in his head of your heartbroken face while his chest aches. “I kept thinking about her and Jungwon. I treated her terribly before all this, didn’t I? I just kept thinking how she might like Jungwon now.” His eyes are downcast in sadness, and his voice is broken. Pulling up a chair right in front of Riki, Heesung plops down and holds Riki up by the shoulders, squaring him up. “Riki. Go. Go right now and apologize, before you lose her even more.” Riki is crying harder now, and wiping his tears, he breaks and finally tells them. “I don’t think I want to be without her, Heesung. I want her love, no matter if it drives me to my end.”

Riki sees how Eunchae slipped out of your house to walk towards the supermarket, no doubt to get you both some consolation food. He takes this moment to approach your front door, knocking furiously in nervousness and apprehension. It’s now or never. 

You open the door, assuming it’s Eunchae who left something behind before she left, so seeing Riki - messy hair, lips bitten to the extreme and bloodshot eyes standing on your front porch knocked the wind out of your lungs. Ready to slam the door on his face, his long hand stops you from doing so, pleading “Y/N please, please just listen to me. It wasn’t how it happened. I didn’t agree with Junhee at all. I like you, Y/N L/N, like it’s breathing. Being away from you makes me lose my mind, and I know I haven’t been the best to you in the past. But please, Y/N. I need you to give me a chance. I need you.”

There’s warm tears flowing down your face, and even in this state Riki thinks you’re beautiful. The porch light shines on your face and you look angelic. He hopes it showed in your mercy as well.

“Why didn’t you disagree?” you sniffle, sweater paws raising up to wipe away some of the tears on your face. The dejected tone with which you ask him makes him feel a deep tug in his heart, aching and sad. “I felt. Jealous. And angry, that Jungwon was so close to you, and that you hadn’t told me about being his running mate. And I know that doesn’t excuse my actions. I just felt, I don’t know. Out of the loop.”

“I wanted to surprise you with the vice president's news.” You mumbled, head down. Riki hesitantly moved toward you, and slowly patting your head, he said “I was surprised, baby, and so, so proud of you. I felt so proud of my girl up there.” He says hoarsely, hoping that his sincerity is as evident as much as he feels it. 

The breath gets knocked out as he groans through his mouth with the impact of your crushing hug. You have your face burrow into his chest, crying softly but also laughing slightly, wetting his shirt. He doesn’t spare a moment to wrap his arms around you tightly, fearing that letting go would mean that he’d lose you again. He sniffs in the soothing and familiar scent of your shampoo and mumbles into your hair, “I don’t know what spell you’ve casted on me, Y/N L/N. But I want to be under it forever.”

The sunlight, Riki thinks, just manages to make you so beautiful that it makes Riki speechless every single time. A lot has changed since the playground and the years after that. And a lot more changed within the last year too. You and Riki are midway through your senior year now. He was sad when he had to bid farewell to the older members of the basketball team, who were practically like brothers to him now. You continued your duties as vice president, though the shared activities you had with Jungwon, still a sore spot for Riki, made him pout adorably, which you always kissed away with a laugh. Riki was the basketball captain now, which added new responsibilities to his shoulder, which he carried excellently. The evidence of which was the recent basketball game that he’d just won with the team. The pep rally, and most of the team was still loitering around the court (Junhee was out. It was one of the first things Riki did as captain, in fact). Riki had sneaked you out to that fateful soccer field where you both had first kissed, and a beautiful sense of deja vu hit him as he looked at you in wonder - how you’d managed to put up with all of him was still a mystery to the boy. But, when you looked to meet his eyes - those dazzling, black eyes that glittered under the setting sun, you both realized - you were both enchanted by each other.

[artbysconnor]

RenDog x Louis Vuitton

18/18 of LifeStyle: A Life Series Fashion Zine!!

-

Last, but most certainly not least, we have the Red King Mr. RenDiggityDog himself. I knew the instant I saw the reference for this pose that it would be what I use for Ren - the model had the perfect amount of charisma and attitude, and I think it fits him just perfectly. And before anyone asks, no, I didn't draw the pattern on his shirt by hand! I pulled it, and most of the repeating patterns for this whole series, directly from the item or brand site I was working with, to save time and my wrist (and my sanity).

-

(Click through for my Sappy Conclusions under the cut)

And with that (except for a special little bonus illustration vis a vis the unused Bdubs piece), we are finished with the LifeStyle zine. All 18 of the official pieces have been posted, almost exactly a year after I first saw a red shirt in the window display of an Armani store and started to compile a list of designers and brands on my phone notes app. The pieces are laid out here before you on my socials. A print copy of the zine sits on my bedroom shelf.

I really, truly could not have imagined the amount of love and support this community has poured out for these pieces. I am being 100% honest when I say I thought I'd be posting these into the void. Every single effusive tag, ever positive comment, and every single like means so much to me, from the bottom of my heart, especially for a project that was as passion driven as this one was for me.

This is the first time I can say that I've truly finished a long term project of mine, despite having ups and downs and stops and starts in between, and it feels surreal to be stepping away and calling it complete. But I also know that the community loved it just as much as I did, and it's made me even more passionate about wanting to make and do more moving ahead both for the MCYT and Life Series fandoms and far beyond, into my own original stories and crafts.

So here's to many more, for me and for all of you! Thank you so much for all your amazing support!!!!

[cutielando]

summer love | t.n.

synopsis: in which you spend your summer with your boyfriend in his home country

my masterlist

“Amore” Theo called to you as you were resting on the sofa in the common room, a couple of days away from the end of the school year.

“Yes, amore?” you mumbled, not moving your face from where it was buried in the comfy jumper Theo was wearing.

Despite it being summer, the dungeons were void of any warmth, the burning fireplace doing little as to heating up the spacious common room.

“What are your plans for the summer?” his voice was like a melody to your ears, being able to calm you down and soothe you in any situation needed.

“Don’t really have anything planned. Why?”

“I was thinking the other day, would you want to come spend the holidays with me in Italy?" his voice was soft, but it still made you tense up.

You knew about Theo's tumultuous relationship with his father and you knew how much his mother's death had affected him. You didn't think he would want to take you to his home, given that most of his happy memories and moments were spent anywhere but there.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother or anything, especially not to your father" you explained, hesitant about his request.

He nodded, sitting up to hold you better so he can also see your face.

"Amore, don't worry about my father. He's never around the house that much, you probably won't even see him at all" he explained, curling strands of your hair through his fingers.

You hummed, staring at the crackling fire while deep in thought. Spending the entire summer with Theo sounded like a complete dream, and you knew your parents would be more than happy to let you spend your summer with your boyfriend.

Theo had met your parents very early into the relationship. Due to the fact that your families were part of the same circle in the wizarding world, you all knew of each other. But the first time Theo met them as your official boyfriend, he immediately won them over.

Your father was particularly thrilled to have Theo in the family. He almost always stole him away from you when he would visit for the holidays, talking to him about God knows what.

Absentmindedly, you found yourself lifting your head from Theo's chest, gazing into his eyes.

"If I do decide to come, what would we do?" you asked, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen in his eyes.

A smile threatened to break out on his face, but he managed to keep it hidden for now, apprehensive that you would change your mind and refuse his offer.

"Well, we would stay at our vacation house right by the beach, we would travel to the most beautiful and history-rich places in the country, spend quality time together undisturbed, have amazing and constant uninterrupted sex..." you hit his chest at his last remark, making him chuckle and quickly kiss your forehead.

You giggled, nuzzling your face deeper into his warm neck.

As you laid there wrapped up in his arms, you couldn’t think of anything better than spending the whole summer with the person you loved the most.

“I’ll spend the summer with you” you spoke softly, kissing his collarbone.

Theo smiled to himself, squeezing you closer to his chest and burying his face into your hair.

A long summer awaited you both. A summer spent basking in love and happiness, away from the troubled realities of your lives.

♡♡♡♡♡

You knew that spending the break with Theo was going to be the time of your life, but you never thought it would be this perfect.

At the beginning of the summer, you had traveled all throughout the beautiful country that is Italy, visiting the most beautiful villages and cities, full of history and beauties to discover.

At first, you were a little reserved, not wanting to go overboard and make Theo regret that he brought you along. Only after he reassured you that he loved seeing you excited about traveling with him did you completely let loose and enjoy everything that Italy had to offer.

Of course, Theo being Theo, you would never leave a place without him buying you a couple of souvenirs. You almost ran out of place to carry them in your bag, but then he came to the rescue and purchased you an Extendable Bag, mainly to make sure he could continue showering you with gifts.

"I feel bad" you had told Theo after you were done visiting Florence and he had surprised you with yet 4 new gifts.

"Why?" Theo asked, genuinely confused.

"You're buying me so much stuff and you won't let me return the favor. I don't want you to feel like I'm using you or that you have to buy everything for me" you explained, fiddling with your fingers.

Theo couldn't believe his ears. How could he ever think that you, his innocent, soft and perfect little girlfriend, would ever think about using him for money? That thought was just simply not possible.

"Amore, I could never think that. I love buying things for you, your happiness and excitement make me happy. Your presence here with me is the best gift I could ask for" he sealed that promise with a kiss, and you didn't have any choice but to listen to him.

Once you had checked every single place you had wanted to visit off the list, it was finally time to retreat to his beautiful vacation house, where you would spend the remaining couple of weeks of summer break before school started up again.

If you thought his house was impressive, this one was straight out of a fairytale.

A gorgeous abode welcomes you both with a grand and gleaming door, poised to impress.

Within, a spacious living room bathes in natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Furnishings are arranged for cozy chats around a crackling fireplace. The kitchen gleams with polished counters, stainless steel appliances, and a meal-prep island. A formal dining room, with a dazzling chandelier, awaits culinary creations. Upstairs, bedrooms boast plush bedding and ample storage. Each room showcases a distinct decor. The master suite indulges with a spacious bath, including a soothing soak tub, separate shower, and dual vanities.

From the balcony, the fresh smell of the sea lingered in the air, the sand glowing under the hot Italian sun.

"I can't believe this is all ours" you whispered at Theo once you had taken everything in.

He smiled, walking over and enveloping you in his arms. "We have the whole place to ourselves. The maids have been instructed not to bother us, you have clothes here that I specifically picked for you, swimsuits so we can go swimming every day, dresses of every sort. I want you to feel at home here"

"Theo, my home is wherever you are" you cupped his face in your hands, leaning up and sealing your lips in a kiss.

Theo felt like he could cry in that moment. He had never felt a love like this since his mother had passed. He never believed someone could love him, someone as damaged as he was. But you did.

You saw past all of his anger issues, past the facade he tried to hold up and past all the walls he had built around himself for protection. You saw him for who he was, a boy who needed love, who needed someone to show him that he mattered, that he was important, that he deserved to be loved.

And you had vowed to be that person for the rest of your days, to make sure he would never go another day feeling unworthy.

♡♡♡♡♡

"Do you want to go swimming for a little while?" Theo asked, after you had spent the better half of the day in his bed, just enjoying each other's presence.

"Yes" you squealed, kissing his cheek before rushing to the closet in order to pick a swimsuit.

Theo chuckled and got out of bed himself, kissing your head on his way to the bathroom.

Once the both of you were ready, you started the small walk towards the beach, setting down your towels near the water.

As you discarded Theo's shirt that you had stolen, your boyfriend eyed you up and down and whistled, making you blush heavily.

"Stop embarrassing me" you mumbled, but Theo knew you secretly loved it when he complimented your body.

"I'm just admiring what's mine" he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands immediately tangling themselves in his curly hair. His hands slowly traveled down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"Let's go" you took his hand and led him towards the water, enjoying the hot sea enveloping your bodies.

You spent more than an hour just splashing around in the water, enjoying the warm weather.

After you decided to get out, you both laid together on your towel, enjoying the sunset together. You were laying with your head on his chest, his fingers drawing shapes on your back.

"Thank you for bringing me here" you spoke up softly, not wanting to disturb the tranquil atmosphere.

"You don't have to thank me, I wanted nothing more than to spend my summer with you. Thank you for agreeing to come with me" he kissed your forehead, making you nuzzle even closer to his chest.

"I love you, you know that, right?" you spoke after a moment of silence, temporarily lifting your head from his chest to look at him.

He nodded. "I love you too, so much" he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss.

Best summer of your life.

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

last set of tsumsitter ssr groovies 👀

THE TIME HAS COME

First is Pomefiore!! (Edit: The initial version of this Groovy is on the left; Rook is missing the golden Pomefiore markings on his robes. There was an update to fix this. The updated version is on the right.)

The trio is framed by a border of colorful lights, which reminds me a lot of old-fashioned movie theater signs (though not as colorful). If you look closely at the top and bottom, it seems they are posed for a candid photograph and it’s being posted to Magicam or something?? Rook and Epel look super crisp here, which I love!! I think Epel is posing with his hands held behind his back. This paired with his smile and the slight bird’s eye view of his face makes him look super cute please don’t beat me up for saying that, Epel. And Rook is being showy and familiar as usual, even putting one hand on Vil’s shoulder. Vil isn’t cringing or uncomfortable with it, which goes to show that he and Rook are truly good friends.

As for Vil, it’s rare to see him posed casually like this. Most of his cards feature him posed in very “model”-like and mature ways, so to have just one hand on hip, leaning forward slightly, and gripping his grimoire is unique for him (I mostly associate this pose with Ace, lol). His smile is quite casual too—it’s not quite the full catty smirk he has in his live2D model, it’s a lot more subtle and playful.

BahacTeHWWRVwkkwwm YHE VIL TSUM STeALS THE SHOW ThoUGH 😭 (You can tell it’s smiling despite the lack of a visible mouth) from how its eyes!! The placement of the Tsum is also funny. With Pomefiore’s peacock throne in the background, it forms sort of an angelic halo around… the sentient stuffed toy… Proof that Tsum Vil is a heavenly being/j

Next is Ignihyde!!

The Shroud brothers return to Cyberspace, that blue void with tons of ethereal floating screens, particle effects, and code www I don’t know what those three pink balls of flame are in the background, but there being three of them is a consistent theme for Ignihyde. Three pink fireballs, three Shroud brothers, three heads of Cerberus! I wish I could say more here, but I’m basically a Malleus when it comes to tech—

Idia’s pose isn’t anything we haven’t seen before (just at different angles of it, I suppose). But!! It feels different here and adding Ortho definitely adds to it. The Pokémon trainer energy of the initial art carries over to the Groovy. Idia looks like a smug, tough trainer looking down on you with a cocky grin and his face half-shadowed.

Ortho floats almost menacingly next to his big brother, his face entirely shadowed. His aura is like a phantom (fitting) or even like a Pokémon on standby waiting for the chance to fire off a Hyper Beam. This might be me overthinking things, but I wonder if the amount of light on the brothers’ faces references the original Ortho. Robo!Ortho’s face is entirely darkened because his parallel has passed on. Idia’s face is only partially shadowed because while he was close to stepping over to the “other side”, he ultimately found hope and was able to continue living, this time for himself and on his own terms.

I LIKE HoW TSUM IDIA HAS ITS OWN sCREEN TO WORK OFF OF TOO 😭 IBRO IS MAkING A sUS FACE TOO, IT’S GLEEfUL AbOUT WhAtEVRr it’S UP TO… That makes me think that it’s hard at work… I dunno, hacking something systems fnksgwiwozlapaeb Watch out, a Tsum near you might infect your computer and then bounce away happily after ruining all your programs and files.

Last but not least… Diasomnia!! THIS ONE’S MY fAVORITE OF THE SSR TSUMSITTER GROUP, WHICH I WAs NOT EXPecTING AT ALL 🤡

The violet backlight is fantastic—it adds an interesting lighting to the illustration and highlights the green flames and Silver and Sebek’s bright eyes. And speaking of Sebek and Silver, LOOK AT THEM JUST LOOK AT THEM???????? More specifically, Sebek’s arms (they look ultra meaty somehow) and Silver’s whole face(that lopsided smile??? HELLO?????)!! On either side of Malleus like that… Peak bodyguard, I REPEAT, PEAK BODYGUARD

With Lilia bringing up the rear, the three form a perfect squad to surround and to protect their liege. cbsjsbevejwlw I like that Lilia is different than Silver and Sebek; he’s hanging out upside down (as he usually does) and bears a huuuge grin, completely having fun in the moment. (… How does his hat stay on like that when he’s fighting gravity though?)

Up front and center is Malleus of course! He’s wielding his spindle staff like a king might a scepter. This with his fierce face gives the impression of a leader marching into battle with his retainers. You get a real good shot of his teeth and reptilian eyes here which I’m sure the Malleus stans are going feral for right now—and with the limelight shining down on him, he looks almost hopeful for once instead of downtrodden or gloomy.

THE TSUM MALLEUS LOOKS SO FUNKY PLACED tHERE cnsnwveuxvDFsFjqk Just. Cheekily There on Malleus’s shoulder… Because Maleficent and Diablo is a known combination, the image of those two as master and minion comes to mind. Imagine Malleus blasting you with lightning, pausing to listen to his Tsum whispering a suggestion into his ear, and then telling you the Tsum has advised that he blast you with a second strike 💀

Aaaaaah, the Tsumsitter SSR Groovies are some of the best in this game 😭 So glad they’re finally over though, it’s stressful saving rolls for what you know would be a limited event with multiple SSR banners, lol

[grunckle]

On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.

One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.

For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.

He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.

“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”

But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.

So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.

The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.

"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.

"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."

You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.

We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.

"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."

And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!

So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.

For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.

But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.

You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.

For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.

For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.

But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.

And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.

"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."

Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...

[mebis-art-dump]

Frigid Steel, Boiling Wraith

Thinking about how pale ore is eerily chill to the touch

about how PV's spells, likely learnt from its father, take on the same shape as nails made out of an ore allegedly related to its parents

about how those spells are pretty much a solid state of soul for a few moments about how solid state of matter is often the most "cold" state, generally speaking

about how cold it's often associated with lack of emotion and corpses

Also thinking about how the knight's spells, learned from the snails, is more raw, more volatile

stated and shown to literally burn opponents, more of a hot blast than a proper solid mass

shaped and named after haunting ghosts, spectres that do not lay to rest, despite soul itself being present in the whole environment and not necesarily directly linked to sentient beings

about how it is strong emotions what fuels their transformation into their more powerful state through the usage of void, a volatile yet maleable substance, and the opposite of light

if you want to, you can get this drawing in full quality and ready to be a phone wallpaper at my kofi page completely free of charge (although i wont be mad if you leave a lil tip)

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pocket powerhouse ]❜

━━━ .°˖✧ requested by @klerns-birdie ˚₊ ⊹

ft. logan howlett x f! reader x wade wilson — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ entering the void with their tiny, mighty companion┊1.4k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: canon typical blood & violence (and murder lol), reader is described as short & cute, super strength mutation, reader is the one who kills sabertooth in this one, fourth-wall break

➤ author's note: this was funnier in my head

they had you surrounded on all fronts, some standing before you and others on armored vehicles, holding their weapons and fists up ready to strike at any moment. if they didn’t clearly have bad intentions, then you would have been flattered at this little welcome party gathering together after only a few minutes of being sent into the void. they probably heard the ruckus wade and logan were making since they simply couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.

meaning, they couldn’t stop beating each other up and using any means necessary to shed blood or break bones despite it all being healed within the span of seconds.

you find the only successful way to get them to stop trying to kill each other is by threatening to kill them first, throwing a punch into the ground to destroy it under you as a means to grab their attention while shouting that you’ll decapitate them if they continue.

they listen to you most of the time and drop the mini battles, not because they believe you would actually do it, but because they believe they are humoring you by doing so (and because they know to sit down and shut up when a pretty woman tells them to). with super-strength as your mutation, you could do it with ease, they know you can— it’s just so difficult to think that such a cute little thing who pouts when ignored and is frequently used as an armrest due to short stature would ever do anything of the sort. you still have yet to act on your warnings, only depending on bloodlust-filled glares to settle them down much like a teacher waiting for her noisy class to be quiet.

logan thinks you all bark and no bite, wade compares you to an angry bunny, it’s safe to say they take what you say with a grain of salt, exchanging amused looks and admiring how cute you are when yelling profanities and gory details of how you’re going to maim them. (blah, blah, blah, proper name, place name— backstory stuff)

the three of you cringed at the failure of johnny storm, grimacing when his balls probably got crushed on a metal pole and every time he hit his head before getting captured. his end goal was clearly to escape, but you didn’t quite know how he was planning to get there when he set himself alight and started flying.

“i know you!” a large man with flowing blonde hair jumped off the tank, landing with a heavy thud on the compacted sand.

“oh my god, that’s sabertooth, peanut’s brother,” wade explained.

“brother? they don’t really look anything alike aside from being… uh… feral?”

“well you see, apparently there are some discrepancies about that. the author isn’t sure about anything because her bitch-ass still hasn’t watched any of the x-men movies or done her research. something about ‘being too busy with real life,’ can you believe that?”

“okay, you lost me when you started talking about ‘an author,’ but lay off her!”

sabertooth growled at logan, “ready to die?” 

“hey, don’t threaten him! i don’t care if he’s your brother, he’s my friend!” you interrupted, walking up to him, acting nonchalantly like he was a teddy bear when he was truly a grizzly. he was much taller than you too, towering over you and leaving you in his shadow.

“get outta my way, girlie” he barked, extending his claws, prepared to sink them into your flesh. “you’re lucky you’re cute, or else i already would have killed you.”

“aww, thank you! but i can’t accept compliments from someone who wants to kill my friend, so to that, i say ‘fuck off!’”

before he could let out a roar about how you should know who you’re talking to or swipe his claws at your face, you lifted your hand and slapped him across the face. it was much like a dramatic slap from television shows where the girl finds out her boyfriend is cheating on her or something, except his head went flying off into the distance and sprayed blood everywhere. it happened so quickly that his body stood there for a second before flopping over.

“oh my god!” wade exclaimed, cupping his face in his hands from surprise before excitedly clapping them together, “oh my god, that’s my girl— that’s our girl! see, that’s what happens when you enlist a y/n on your team, i told you that it was a good idea to take her with us!” he picked up the decapitated head and waved his arms around, paying no mind to the dripping red iron spilling on his costume, “you bitches saw that? she’s cute ‘n tiny but mighty, and she’ll absolutely fuck you up!”

the victory was short-lived as they took advantage of logan’s adamantium skeleton and other large pieces to scrap to trap all of you to a magnet. normally, this would be a breeze for you to get yourself out of, but you got hit in the head and quickly fell unconscious for them to ship you all away to cassandra.

when you finally woke up, you’re tied back-to-back with johnny and find your two companions in a similar position. “are you guys okay?”

“they’re asleep, but i’m okay,” logan answered, voice uncharacteristically amiable. despite being just as annoying as deadpool, he liked you a whole lot more and never spoke to you as roughly as he did to him. you were sweeter, more empathetic and understanding that he needed his own space, and, he isn’t going to lie, very easy on the eyes. “and you?”

“i’m okay! my head really hurts though…” you winced and shook your head a few times, trying to get the pounding sensation out. “god, this place is crazy. first we get teleported to this junkyard and then—”

“did you really mean what you said back there?”

“what did i say?”

“well… you…” god, he felt stupid, he was about to back out and say ‘nevermind,’ but he knows that you wouldn’t have let him go so easily. “you said that i was your friend…”

“yeah! you are! i mean, i killed your brother for you even though you could have done it yourself, putting myself in danger just so that you didn’t have to— you better consider me a friend too!”

he should tell you that you shouldn’t call him that nor think of him that way since nothing good ever comes out associating with him, but he can’t bring himself to say the words he’s routinely told others to successfully push them away. something about the look in your eyes, the way they sparkled when you looked at him. something about your smile, toothy and full of hope for the future to make up for his lack of. something about you makes him keep his mouth shut.

instead, he looks away, muttering a quiet word of thanks.

you tilt your head in slight confusion, not understanding the depth of your statement yet and how it managed to pull a word of gratitude out of a man who was in a constant state of irritation, but it made you irrationally happy and giddy inside.

wade was murmuring a few unintelligible sentences before coming to, and despite wearing a mask that covered his entire face, you could envision the mild look of disgust behind the leather as clear as day. “ew, why are you smiling like that??” he took a glance at you and then back at him, repeating the process a few times. “what the fuck? you guys can’t have a love story and leave me out of it! i’m the reason you two even met—” he finally seemed to process the situation from the close proximity with logan, looking him in the eyes through the white fabric of his mask and trying to find a way to loosen it to no avail. “how long have i been asleep?”

“not all of you was asleep.”

johnny seemed to wake up as well, beginning to tell a whole bunch of exposition about this place you were trapped in, something about a monster that would swallow you up and a “her” who runs this entire place. he laughed at the notion of evading this woman’s grasp, but wade thought otherwise.

“nah, we can take her! i have a pocket powerhouse and the wolverine on my side, i’m not scared of anything!”

no one quite believes him, but it’s nice to see that your optimism has rubbed off on him.

[tlatollotl]

Why do some people rage against using the term Aztec, but say nothing when someone uses Maya (multiple cultures), Zapotec (Bën Za), Mixtec (Ñuu Savi Sukun, Ñuu I'ni, Ñuu Andivi), Tarascan (Purépecha), Huichol (Wixárika), Cora (Náayerite), Huastec (Téenek), or any other indigenous groups? Especially when discussing archaeologically defined groups/cultures that may be quite distinct from their contemporary descendants?

I'm not saying that we shouldn't use better terms. We most definitely should. Anasazi, for example, should never be used beyond a single sentence saying it is no longer an acceptable label when reviewing and discussing the historiography of the Puebloan peoples.

But that doesn't mean some terms should be abandoned in lieu of another term that is no way better. Replacing Aztec with Mexica ignores the two other ethnic groups/city-states that made up the Triple Alliance. I want you to stop and think And see if you can recall what those two groups were. I'll give you a hint, Nezahualcóyotl was from one of those groups.

Give up? They were the Acolhua and Tepanec. So, if you want to stop using Aztec, that's fine. But you have to replace it with Mexica, Acolhua, and Tepanec every time. However, that replacement is only limited to talking about Tenochtitlán, Texcoco, and Tlacopan. Why? Because there were more ethnic groups within the Basin of Mexico, not to mention outside the Basin of Mexico, that were under control of the Triple Alliance and were distinct from being Mexica, Acolhua, or Tepanec. You could, of course, replace Aztec with Triple Alliance, or Ēxcān Tlahtōlōyān in Classic Nahuatl. Totally fine if a little unwieldy. Though you may run into issues with people confusing the Triple Alliance of Mesoamerica with several Triple Alliances in European history.

But what really is the issue with using Aztec to refer to the multitude of ethnicities and cultures that made up the Triple Alliance? It isn't derogatory or insulting. The term is based on the semi-mythical homeland of numerous groups that occupied Central Mexico and made up a large part of the Triple Alliance (the Tlaxcalteca were from Aztlan, as well). In fact, Aztec is a handy term to refer to the collection of all these groups despite the polity not being a monocultural entity because these groups did share many cultural features, histories, and/or languages.

You could compare the term Aztec to Roman. A broad term that encompasses many peoples. But when necessary, you can discuss individual or small groups of ethnicities/cultures within the broader polity. And that includes the people of Rome itself which you could refer to as Romani, which they called themselves, to be distinct from the larger broader socio-political Roman label for the people of the Republic/Empire outside of Rome proper.

It's an issue of scale, I think. But that's why we have multiple terms available to use when the context and need arises. And if better terms come along, by all means replace the previous terms.

If you disagree, I would like to know why. This was sort of a rant into the void from seeing other online discourse. I really would welcome a good explanation as to why we should replace Aztec with Mexica at the expense of all the other groups that made up the Triple Alliance.