#but less apathetic and more intense this time

[sliimetrash]

i feel; like ive felt more emotions in the past 3 days than i did for the entirety of the last half of 2023

[hero-dualies-3]

hmsonas are funny as hell . there are 3 critters in my head and they’re all horrible

[roronoacherries]

𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘰𝘢 𝘻𝘰𝘳𝘰

2.258 words

content: fluff, sfw, light angst, fem. reader, established relationship, reader can't look at zoro without a hint of fear in her eyes after he saves her from an enemy.

note: this is a little more straw hat fluff than it is zoro fluff?

you wanted to pretend that it didn’t faze you. 

it shouldn’t have. zoro was gentle and loving and kind-hearted. you knew this well enough. better than anyone, you understood that there was more to the swordsman than his unwavering, tough demeanor. there was no reason for you to feel afraid with him — much less, any reason for you to be afraid of him. 

and yet, lately, you couldn’t quite meet his eyes. you couldn’t help being jumpier around him than you wanted to be. and you found yourself avoiding him without meaning to. 

all he had done was protect you. you would have been dead if he hadn’t stepped in. but rather than thank him, your reaction had been to cower and step into sanji’s arms instead of his. it wasn’t fair to him and you knew it but the image of the swordsman, eyes crimson with rage, was something you couldn’t erase from your mind. the expression on his face had been one that could kill; it was one that made you understand that he would kill. without a second thought, if it meant protecting you. and that had terrified you. 

it shouldn’t have unsettled you like it did. you were pirates for god's sake! you hadn’t exactly expected him to be a saint, nor could you claim to be one. you had no right to be this cold toward him now. he was still the zoro you knew — the one you loved like you didn’t realize you could — you’d simply seen a different side of him; you’d seen a side of him that told you the lengths to which he would go to keep you safe. 

you loved him endlessly… but you needed time before you could meet his eyes without recalling the terror you’d felt then. 

and the swordsman understood. he didn’t blame you for your reaction, but he didn’t know how to mend things either. all he could do was wait for it to pass. all he could do was give you space. that was what he told himself but all he wanted to do was hold you in his arms and make you feel okay. 

the best he could do was keep his distance, though without straying too far. it didn’t matter to him if you saw him as a monster, he’d stay close enough to be there if you needed him, keeping out of your way while still keeping an eye on you. 

and although he conceals it well, it isn’t lost on anyone that zoro’s hurting too. he minds his own, not quite avoiding anyone but not quite present either. not even the cook’s blatant and shameless flirting is enough to provoke a reaction from him; and despite their rivalry, sanji can’t stand to see the swordsman so apathetic. 

none of the crew can, but they know there’s not anything more he can do but be patient with you; as much as they all want to help – to advise zoro and to comfort you – they all know what you need is time.

although it doesn’t keep them from trying. 

chopper takes it upon himself to cure zoro’s ailment the only way he can think to: keeping him company. he bothers the swordsman with a dozen different things, keeping him occupied and trying his best to lighten his mood, but his attempts are fruitless. nothing could quite erase the trace of melancholy in zoro’s expression. 

nami is the only other to try and pull some semblance of genuine emotion from zoro in the way she knows best — picking a fight with him. if there’s anything the navigator is an expert at (besides everything — for a price), it’s chastising the boys. 

“you’re too intense,” she scolded and despite her tone, zoro knew she meant it as comfort. not that knowing made it annoy him any less. she kept talking and zoro let her, not quite listening but not quite ignoring her either. 

“you lose your cool at the drop of a hat sometimes, it’s no wonder y/n is as shaken up as she is. you’ve gotta learn to keep your calm.” nami’s words were nonchalant and her eyes were no longer on the swordsman; she knew well enough that her words would go in one ear and out the other regardless. 

and though zoro knew that he would only be proving her right, that he should bite his tongue and acknowledge that maybe nami was right, he lost his temper anyway, raising his voice at the navigator a little more than he’d intended to. “how the fuck am i meant to stay calm if y/n’s in trouble?”

everyone’s eyes turned to the swordsman but he could care less about what they might think. “i don’t give a shit how she feels,” he spat, knowing as well as everyone else that this was a lie. 

“i’d do the same thing again if i had to, without a second thought.” 

i’d do anything for her. 

“even if it means she never speaks to me again.”

despite chopper’s insistence that he rest, despite the wounds on his body that ached with every move he made, zoro left to work out, though not before warning everyone to leave him alone. and while chopper’s words ring in his head, knowing well that his body needed to rest, he’d rather feel the pain of his injuries than think of you. 

the rest of the crew tried to meddle comfort you however they could. 

luffy tried (and succeeded) to bring a smile to your face with his endless antics, usopp joining in. the two went out of their way to pull a laugh out of you. teasingly, your captain made it a point to remind you of the clueless, disoriented fool roronoa zoro could be through theatrical reenactments of the swordsman’s habits and mannerisms. “how can you be scared of an idiot like that?” luffy giggled. 

he balanced himself on the ship’s railing, crouching as he looked down at you with a contagious grin. you wanted to tell him to be careful, but you knew your words would go ignored. 

“besides. i’d ‘ve done the same thing if i was in his place,” he said, teetering on the railing and it takes everything in you not to shout at him. playfully, he questioned you, “would you really be scared of me too, y/n?”

“i’m scared that you’ll fall. luffy, please get down from there.”

giggling, the captain sways a little more before hopping down and you let out a sigh of relief. and though he doesn’t bother to pull a response out of you, his question still sticks with you. 

sanji had said the same thing as you helped him with the kitchen chores, busying yourself in a helpless attempt to push the swordsman out of your mind. you dried the dishes as sanji washed them, a comfortable silence sitting between the two of you. 

and while sanji knew well that you’d offered to help him because you wanted a distraction, he couldn’t help but question you, his gentle voice breaking the silence. softly, being careful not to make it sound like he thought you were reacting unreasonably, the cook asked, “is there a reason this has you so shaken up, my dear?” 

you dried the last dish without looking up at sanji, who’d turned his back to the sink, a cigarette quick to find its way to his lips. “i don’t know…” you whispered. you were being honest; you’d given that question significant thought already, but you weren’t quite sure why this was bothering you like it was.

“you know…” sanji started, lighting the cigarette between his teeth. “any of us would have done the same thing in his shoes. if that idiot went a little too far, it was because of how much he cares, y/n,” it felt strange to defend the swordsman so forwardly, but it was true. “he’d never forgive himself if something happened to you, especially not if he could do something about it.” 

all you could do was nod, your eyes staring vacantly at the dishes in front of you. sanji held a hand to your shoulder in comfort. “and…pardon my language, sweet y/n, but if that idiot hadn’t done what he did, i’d have kicked his ass.”

“thank you, sanji.” you smiled up at the cook. he returned the smile, whispering one last thing before heading for the door. “if you still can’t keep the mosshead off your mind, at least help yourself to a treat. i made your favorite for dessert tonight if you’d like to sneak a bite…”

no amount of sweets could be enough to make you feel any better (but it was worth the try). it helps, though, that nami and usopp find you wallowing at the kitchen counter and join you. these two admit to understanding perfectly what you felt; they agree that zoro, along with sanji and luffy, could be a monstrous trio when need be. it’s pure insanity and utterly terrifying that they’re as strong as they are, even when you’re not on the receiving end of their fury. 

“but they’re a trio of idiots, too,” nami reasoned. “i know it’s easy to forget when you see them like that, but everything they do is out of loyalty… and love.” 

“she's right,” usopp chimes in. “they’re beastly monsters, but they’re our beastly monsters. it’s like having pet guard dogs. they might bite someone’s hand off but never yours… ‘cept maybe luffy.” 

there’s truth to all of their words; you know this. and it helps. although you don’t forget the fear you felt in that moment, you don’t forget all of the love you feel for that big green-haired idiot either. still, you find yourself skipping dinner to avoid him a little longer — perhaps, more from guilt than any lingering fear. 

you lie in bed instead, your eyes staring at the ceiling as you think over your crewmates’ words and try to make sense of your own ceaseless thinking. you hardly notice the sound of the door until robin’s voice meets your ears.

“the stars are quite beautiful tonight,” she smiles and you know, without her needing to say much else, that this is her way of helping you clear your mind. 

“thank you, robin,” you whisper, as you reach for a thin blanket to take with you on deck. 

and robin is right; the sight of the stars shining above the going merry is enough to take your breath away. their light alone lightens the weight on your shoulders, a reminder that your existence is small and your problems are too. and that doesn’t make them unimportant, but it does make them easier to bear. 

you notice too, though, that robin didn’t send you up here to look at the sky; she wanted you to notice what was under the starlight. his eyes are fixed on the stars above, hands resting behind his head as he laid on the upper deck. 

he notices you without needing to look, catching a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye. you’re frozen where you stand until you see him sit up, turning his back to you, ready to leave and give you your space but the sound of your footsteps stops him. 

he’s not sure why but he shuts his eyes as he hears you approach; a part of him knows it’s to keep himself from getting his hopes up, too afraid to let himself believe that you might let him hold you in his arms again and he might finally be able to get some sleep — not that he’d admit aloud that he can’t quite sleep without you close to him anymore. 

it’s not until he feels your arms wrap around him and your head rest against his back that the swordsmen lets himself exhale. but the sense of relief is short-lived, as he feels something damp his shirt and it pains him to think that you might be crying. 

he struggles to find the right words to say, scared he’ll say the wrong thing and you’ll pull away, but ultimately it’s you who speaks first. “i’m sorry.”

you whisper, your words muffled against his back and he’s certain he must’ve misheard because what could you possibly have to apologize for. 

and it’s then that he knows exactly what to say to you. “shut up.

“what could you possibly have to say sorry for?” his hand searches for yours and as he holds it, he realizes just how deeply he’s missed having you close. “i’m the one who should be apologizing to you.”

all you can think to do is hold him tighter, but the swordsman pulls away. he turns to you and when his eyes meet yours, there’s no longer any trace of fear and zoro couldn’t be more grateful for it. 

he lies back on the deck again, this time with you wrapped in his arms. the weight of his arms around you makes you feel safer than anything and there isn’t anywhere else you’d rather be. after all, roronoa zoro would go to any lengths to protect you. resting your head in the crook of his neck, you can’t help but whisper another apology. 

“shut up.” the swordsman repeats, his voice almost a whisper but you can hear the smile tugging at his lips nonetheless. he holds you tighter, burying his nose in your hair and breathing in the scent he missed so much. “let me sleep.”

─────────────────────────────

taglist: @zorobraun @maaarshieee @lyriczhou @tinkywinky27 @dimimyth @gaby-chwan @tk6uro @zoros-4th-sword @idiotlittleme @zoronnoa

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[sy-on-boy]

Anya + unraveling the mystery of the Desmond family (and Damian being different)

When Melinda debuted, I wrote a post about how she was potentially a character against the Forgers because Anya hadn't met her (we gain insight into characters via our deus ex machina Anya meeting them and reading their minds). Anya has met her now and the narrative has established that she genuinely cares for Damian (even if she's still a mysterious character).

After a long time, Demetrius is finally here. He's still mysterious, but not antagonistic to his brother and still cares for him. Like I said in a previous post, Demetrius subverts what I said above because Anya cannot read him fully even if she's met him. But regardless, Demetrius is here, we've seen him, all four Desmonds have finally debuted. And in my mind, I can vaguely connect them to the Forger-Briar extended family:

Anya - Damian: The kids aiming for stella stars and seeking parental approval. Attached to their dogs. Occasionally heroic (dodgeball, handkerchief, bus hijacking), but ultimately silly kids dragged into "adult" political matters (Anya with more awareness than Damian).

Loid - Donovan: Standing in for WISE vs war, one of the central conflicts. They are fathers and authority figures. Loid, faking a job as a psychiatrist, seeks to understand people (as a fake job, but he also does this as a spy). Donovan famously declared that people would never truly sympathize with each other. A good, attentive father and a neglectful father.

Yor - Melinda: The mothers, the narrative kind of puts them in the background compared to their husbands, but we know they have plot behind them. Yor's job as an assassin is unknown to her family (sans Anya). Melinda has struggles of her own when it comes to parenting her kids / being married to Donovan.

Demetrius - Yuri: Bit of a stretch, but they're both characterized as genius brothers and on the side compared to the main father-mother-child trios. Yuri works for the SSS, in direct opposition to Loid. Demetrius is a middle schooler?? He’s a child so he’s probably not that involved in the main plot, and if he is, it’s not willingly / he was brought up that way. They're both younger (and less experienced) compared to the adults- Demetrius is still a child and Yuri is 20. Yuri's affection for Yor is overflowing and the Briar siblings are very supportive of each other. In contrast, Demetrius is passive and apathetic, but not uncaring.

Anya has met everyone except for Donovan. Anya thinks both Melinda and Demetrius are weird. And Anya thinks of Donovan as the evil super boss. To her, the Desmonds are "weird". "All of Sy-on boy's relatives are such weirdos" - not sure if it's just the translation, but this line seems to imply Anya thinks Damian is exempt to the weirdness of his family. After all, unlike Demetrius, she can read Damian's thoughts normally. And unlike Melinda (and Yuri, and Fiona), she usually doesn't get bombarded with an overwhelming wave of intense thoughts when she reads Damian's mind.

And that brings us to the next point - Damian's time in Eden and the positive influences he receives (away from his family). Damian and Anya are better friends now. E&E's loyalty and affection for him have been established countless times. Becky congratulates Damian this chapter. Despite Damian thinking people suck up to him to get close to his father, he has a group of friends who do care about him (including Becky who doesn't suck up to him). Outside of what we see from Anya's pov, Damian has teachers and his dorm mother (Jeeves too) who care for him. Damian isn't alone.

Damian is shown to be disconnected from his family for whatever reason. His parents didn't come to his orientation. Damian says he doesn't see his parents often. Melinda cares for Damian but isn't allowed to see him often / afraid to be seen with him (?). Damian has called Demetrius before but this is the first time we see him meet Demetrius in person. And we all know about Damian's goal of impressing his father. Damian seems to believe Demetrius and Donovan when close when they were younger (when Demetrius was slightly older than Damian’s age), but Damian receives no such attention. Despite this, Damian still manages to have a fairly happy school life with his friends and supportive adult figures.

I think Damian's growing friendship with Anya and the recent complete reveal of the Desmond family will push Anya into thinking Damian is not like his weird family. If anything, Damian is more like Anya and her associates. Post bus-hijacking, Damian from Anya's POV is seen as more likeable / sympathetic, even more so now that we know about his mother and brother.

Anya is a child who is exposed to some of the darkness in Melinda / Demetrius' heads (trauma from being close to Donovan?), and she doesn't really understand them. Melinda / Demetrius seem off to outsiders (we saw Yor’s reaction, Becky thinks Demetrius is creepy) but it’s only Anya who’s capable of reading their minds and knowing how weird their thoughts are. But Anya has a much better understanding of Damian, the youngest Desmond, who is a kid like her with understandable motivations (getting stars, impressing his dad) similar to Anya's own motivations.

Interesting to note that Demetrius, while at Eden, seems rather lonely and disconnected even within his peer group. When he walks down the stairs, the panel frames it as him being alone, while Damian has four friends with him. When Damian and Anya get their stars, their classmates are shown to be smiling / impressed. When Demetrius gets his stars, we see two of his peers sweatdropping, almost looking wary, while a blushing girl has her hands to her mouth. The story doesn't show Demetrius' peers celebrating his success. It feels like Demetrius' peers are used to him getting good grades but still in awe of how good he is, but... they're not really close to him. Demetrius is not social and says he doesn't understand people, and maybe he doesn't interact much with his peers.

This chapter also reveals Demetrius is not in regular contact with Donovan anymore, contrary to what Damian believed. So Demetrius seems removed from the Desmond family sphere, but also isn't super integrated into the Eden sphere (in contrast to his 6yo brother and his friends). We can believe Demetrius isn’t close to Donovan because he is annoyed (and triggered?) by the mere mention of his father. Clearly Donovan has done something scarring to both Melinda and Demetrius and their thoughts look weird to Anya. Damian, despite craving for his father's attention and being stressed about it, is still relatively unaffected.

From now on, I think we'll slowly get more information about the Desmonds while Damian remains separated from them in the narrative. Damian is introduced as a vital part of Plan B due to his connection with his father, but even Damian himself admits there's not much of a connection. Plan B is working (sort of) because Damianya are friends, but that doesn't mean it's easier for Anya to meet Donovan. I think the narrative has been pushing Damian away from being a plot device for Plan B to being Anya's genuine friend and a victim of the Desmond parenting. At this point, Damian is not really useful to the main plot and there's not much mystery to this 6yo child.

Damian still thinks of himself as a scion of the Desmonds and he’s desperately trying to get his father’s attention. But his dad doesn’t really care, his mom loves him but doesn’t want him to be near Donovan, his brother is similar and also seemingly doesn’t want anything to do with Donovan. Meanwhile, the story establishes him as a boy with a crush on Anya, a boy with friends who will readily sacrifice themselves for him, a boy who’s willing to protect his classmates. All around Damain, his peers, associates, and the story itself has long been defining Damian as someone outside of being the Desmond family. But Damian naturally holds onto it.

Damian isn’t mysterious to Anya because she can read him. Okay, she still thinks he’s a brat sometimes, but that’s Damain being Damian, not Damian being a Desmond. But everyone else in the family is mysterious and it makes Anya feel at least vaguely uncomfortable.

The Desmonds are probably connected to Project Apple, and with the recent hints of Anya’s backstory, we might get some of that. But Damian is framed as almost completely separate to whatever went on, while Melinda and Demetrius are portrayed as victims of Donovan, mysterious and a bit weird but still sympathetic.

And that’s why I think it’s coming together— hints of Anya’s backstory, Damianya becoming better friends, the Desmonds all here. We’ve scratched the surface off and we’re hopefully going to see more.

(Also, just a thought: if Damian indeed goes through a “dark arc” and becomes more like the rest of his family, Anya will know because she can read his mind. She will be able to tell if Damian’s thoughts also start being “weird”. But they are better friends now which could be a lead up to her helping Damian deal with the pressure and struggle.)

[anxiousnerdwritings]

How is the family and everyone else coping after Joanna!Reader's poisoning and death? (Just a hunch but i dont think that they have healthy coping mechanisms)

Tw: Mentions of character death and unhealthy behavior/yandere tendencies

Cersei is the worst out of the lot. She is absolutely and utterly gutted, not only did she lose a child, her most beloved child at that, but also her second chance at having a piece of her mother back in her life once more. She would be much more heavily dependent on wine than she already was, rarely seen without a glass full in hand. It would take months at the very least for Cersei to even bring herself to try and feign some semblance of having pulled herself together. She’s distraught, she feels both numb and completely riddled with pain at her loss. She can’t unsee the image of holding her dying child in her arms and just being left to watch helplessly as they were torn away from her forever. Her hatred for Tyrion would be unmatched, it’s even more intense and overflowing then ever before. She blames him wholeheartedly, she blames him for everything. He was the death of her mother and now he was the death of her child. To her, he killed her mother twice and this time he wasn’t going to get away with it, she wouldn’t allow it. Cersei would often spend whatever spare time she had in Joanna!Lookalike!Reader’s room, just needing to be surrounded with what was once their’s. Everyone would know not to disturb the queen during these times. This was her solace for the briefest of moments and you would need a damn good reason for interrupting her and taking her out of the only place that could give her even an ounce of comfort in her time of grieving. More often then not, Cersei could be found sleeping in her late child’s room, just wanting to be closer to them again. She would become incredibly territorial and overprotective of Joanna!Lookalike!Reader’s room and everything in it. When it came to the servants cleaning the room up and keeping things in order, Cersei would be right their overseeing it all ensuring they don’t mess anything up and everything is in the exact same place it had been before. And she’ll know if even the smallest thing is off by less than half a centimeter, she’s memorized the room to a T after all.

Tywin would be the second worst out of the Lannister family when it came to Joanna!Lookalike!Reader’s death. He would only be haunted with the remembrance of losing his precious Joanna all over again, the immense pain and grief flooding his entire being once more as he can do nothing but watch as his grandchild is writhing slowly and painfully, desperately clawing for some sense of relief from the pain and distress they’re in but to no avail. Tywin would completely shut himself off to anyone and everyone, even more so than usual. When it comes to Joanna!Lookalike’s funeral, Tywin would demand some time alone to say his goodbyes to send off his grandchild and in those moments he would allow himself to breakdown. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s cried, not since he lost his Joanna, and now here he is again just like deja vu. Tywin doesn’t lose himself in this moment though, he can’t let himself do that. He only gives himself the briefest of moments but it’s enough for him. After this he puts his venture focus on avenging Joanna!Lookalike and getting their justice against Tyrion. And similar to Cersei, Tywin puts his entire being into blaming Tyrion for tearing away his second chance at having a semblance of his precious Joanna again. He would do anything and everything in his power to see Tyrion punished to the fullest for the horrible fate that the Reader had to suffer through at his hands. Tywin was ruthless before but after losing his beloved grandchild he would only become all the more ruthless and apathetic. He can’t even bring himself to try and comfort Cersei as she grieves her own loss of the Reader, he doesn’t have it in him. He doesn’t have anything left in him to give to anyone, especially not now. Any small ounce of humanity that Joanna!Lookalike’s mere existence and influence had on Tywin was completely washed away after their death. He was left only colder and more heartless than ever before, any warmth that had mustered up within him was void now and nothing could bring it back. The only one who could was gone now.

Jaime feels absolutely useless and weak after the Reader’s death. Whether he was in attendance or not depending on which version of the Purple Wedding you want to go with, Jaime would blame himself for not being there or for not being able to do anything in the moment. He honestly can’t bring himself to fathom the thought that Tyrion really did poison Joanna!Lookalike, he knows his little brother more than enough to know he loved and cared for the Reader as much as they all did. He can’t bring himself to even try and force any kind of blame on Tyrion even if he wanted to. No matter how much Cersei and Tywin try to force their own intense hatred and wrath towards Tyrion onto him, Jaime won’t go with it. He can and will only blame himself for what happened. The loss of the Reader has him deep in regret and reevaluating himself and his place in the world as a whole. He can’t help but regret not being more involved in the Reader’s life when they were growing up, it’s not like he wasn’t there for them but Cersei definitely kept them close to her side even when he was right there and wanting to be a part of his child’s life as more than just an “uncle”. Unlike Cersei, Jaime wouldn’t be able to bring himself to go into the Reader’s room after their death. The most he can bring himself to do is stand outside their bedchamber door and just stare, to anyone passing by it would most certainly look like his intense and unwavering stare would burn straight through the sturdy wood of the door. That’s just how lost and in his head he was. After the loss of Joanna!Lookalike, Jaime would stray further and further from Cersei’s clutches. He wants to do right by his late child, he wants to be someone they would really be proud of. Someone they could be proud to call their father or at the very least acknowledge as their father. Jaime would vow to protect and care for both Tommen and Myrcella in particular after losing the Reader. Not only to make up for not protecting and keeping the Reader safe from their fate but also knowing that the Reader would have wanted Tommen and Myrcella safe above all else. And Jaime would do just that. That was an oath he would keep.

Tyrion would be a mess after the loss of the Reader. Not only is he being accused of it and is the direct target of his father and sister’s immense ire, all he could do while his niece lay dying, clawing and tearing at their throat seeking some kind of relief from not being able to breath was to just watch. He couldn’t hold them himself, he couldn’t even go near them. Tyrion never even got the chance to say goodbye, instead being thrown and left to rot in a cell until his father and sister could pin this whole thing on him. He hoped and wanted to believe that the Reader knew he didn’t hurt them, that he wasn’t the cause of their death. He would never do that, especially not to them. He loved them more than anything else. They were always good to him, loving and sweet, even defending him from their own mother. Why would he do anything to them when they were always on his side? How could he do such a thing to someone, no, to the only one who was truly ever on his side? He would never. He could never. He didn’t. To say Tyrion would not be in the best head space would be an understatement, I mean can you blame him? For a good amount of time after the Reader’s death he’s locked up for being the one who killed them even though that couldn’t be further from the truth. And with all that time, Tyrion is left alone with just his thoughts and feelings. And he’s going through it. He’s hurting from the loss of his niece, he’s angry with the predicament his father and sister have thrown him into. Tyrion can’t help but hate his father and sister for not allowing him to grieve Joanna!Lookalike, he couldn’t even say his goodbyes or be there to send the Reader off for their funeral. Now the whole realm is blaming him for their beloved princess’ demise, he’s become far more hated and loathed than ever before and all because his father and sister are so consumed with their own already festered hate for him that they want him gone for good now. But in a way he can’t blame them too much, sure he hates them for what they’re doing to him now but he does feel guilt for the Reader’s death. He knows he didn’t do it but he can’t help but feel like he had some part in it. He should have done something, surely there was something he could have done to save Joanna!Lookalike or maybe even prevent the ordeal from taking place at all. He knows it’s pointless to dwell on it but he can’t help but to do just that. After all he’s got nothing but his thoughts to keep him company while he’s in his cell. Whether Oberyn still ends up being Tyrion’s champion would depend but either way Jaime would still end up freeing him anyway. By the time that happens though, Tyrion is far from who he use to be. He’s closed in on himself, there’s no more mirth in his eyes or playfulness/sarcasm dripping from his tongue, he’s cold and hollow. I’m 50/50 whether Tyrion would tell Jaime that he did indeed kill Joanna!Lookalike just to hurt his brother and especially Cersei later on when/if she gets word of it. And in a way Tyrion at this point might believe to some degree that he actually did kill Joanna!Lookalike, even though he of course didn’t but that’s how his guilt is eating at him. He would still go through with killing Shae and his father before he leaves King’s Landing for good though. After everything since the Reader’s death, Tyrion feels like a little bit of revenge is the least he deserves. He may not have actually taken Joanna!Lookalike away from his father and sister but he would take his father way from Cersei and Jaime. After all, he wanted to hurt them. Once Tyrion is out of King’s Landing and on the run, he doesn’t care who he hurts or uses. He doesn’t want to feel anything, he can’t really feel anything. He’s numb and he wants to stay that way but every so often he gets a sudden wave of guilt and remorse. Tyrion would drink even more excessively than usual, he would whore around even more than normal just to escape from everything. He doesn’t want to think about or feel anything anymore. He couldn’t careless whether he lived or died at this point.

[hell-drabbles]

Been into "what if"s and alternative universes stuff, safe to say i'm very interested in what it would look like if the Companion is the Descendant of Solomon instead of Ra-on. I wonder if Ra-on will get his shit together if that happened and tried to get his Companion out of the filthy hands of demons while trying to survive and fix the mess of the Hell.

The role reversal would be interesting to see if both Companion and Ra-on still have their traits together as themselves and not the contrary. It's... Not a pleasant thing to think of Companion as... Ra-on.

Let's see how many Demons would get hit by Companion's pipe and ask for more if the Companion is the Star of the Show, lololol

Ain't that a question. Well I won't lie, I have thought about it from time to time, just never bothered to explore it any deeper since I was distracted by other things.

Anyways, I'm gonna ramble so strap in.

For one thing, Ra-on would be heavily more well adjusted since his family wasn't killed. He'd be a very gentle man, and probably grew up with overprotective parents so he has that sheltered, air-headedness about him that comes with living in a little bubble.

Oh and he's still explosively horny. Now that he isn't under the constant watch of his parents, he's going all out in finding his preferences online. And is certainly not a virgin by this point. I'd actually imagine that he's aiming to be a part-time sex worker, but is too busy with college at the moment to look deeper into it.

And as for the Companion... I'd say they have a lot less disinterest in the world around them. Dismissive, simply putting all of their focus on finding the people that killed their family. They've pretty much narrowed their world to just Ra-on and Minhyeok and doesn't have anyone else beyond that. They're very protective of that small circle, to an unhealthy degree honestly. So, in contrast to the current strained dynamic of Companion and Ra-on, it feels like the this version of the Companion and Ra-on are about to consume each other.

"You're so delicate. You'll be ripped apart."

Companion has not had a healthy sleep in years, and they struggle immensely to find joy in anything that isn't related to Ra-on and Minhyeok. When they're not burning with intense rage, they're often found very, very apathetic. As such, they give the devils little to no respect, no matter how much these devils may adore them.

But, the devils being devils, they will not stop trying. They will get past the Companion's emotional walls. This, of course, has horrible consequences. Because you can't attempt to fix a person that doesn't want to fix themselves.

So yeah, the only way anyone can get the Companion interested in saving Hell at all is to either say that the angels have something to do with their family getting slaughtered, or have Ra-on plead with them to save the devils.

So yeah, that would probably the story of the Companion learning to let go of their need for vengeance and just, start to appreciate the weird world around them.

Ra-on is still as horny as always, but because he's not being bogged down by the other issues in the regular AU, he isn't really jealous or unhealthily possessive. He is, instead, kinda scared for the Companion's mental well being when it becomes clear to him just how much they project Solomon onto the Companion. He distracts the devils when he sees how their talking and flirting is bothering the Companion. Makes a mess of himself so that the Companion can hide away.

He just, doesn't want to see the Companion turn to violence again. They had a really bad streak at some point that almost got them barred from getting into any school or university. Ra-on hates seeing them caught in the cycle of violence and will do anything to pull them out. But Hell is... not the best place for that kind of hope.

Minhyeok loves being a Caretaker but Ra-on takes it to a whole other level. Ra-on almost wants to become a machine that's made to take care of the Companion's every need, if that will help them be happier for a little longer. Willing to strip himself of his agency if it means they can smile again.

And all the Companion sees is a delicate dove that need to be protected at all costs.

Of all the things the Companion and Ra-on are afraid of, it's the realization that the other doesn't need them like they thought they would. That, what's best for both of them is to go their separate ways.

Is it romantic? Is it platonic? I don't know, but it's certainly unhealthy and they will consume one another if left unchecked.

And as for the Companion's relationship with Solomon, they want to cut him out. They want him to shut up, they want him to go to anyone else and leave them be. They don't want any of his fucking baggage or any of the shit he did.

Anyways, I would imagine that Solomon is the one to reveal that the angels slaughtered their family, with evidence to show for it. Because if this is the only way to get the Companion to save Hell, then so be it. Aim the rage-filled beast towards your enemy and let go. Solomon obviously doesn't want to manipulate the Companion like this, but he cares for the devils in Hell too much. Besides, this is his last chance. He has no other choice.

[hajihiko]

little survivor remnant talkies down below

I like how Sonia came out. She really leans into the Ruler aspect of herself, wearing a complicated (and painful) crown and wearing her hair elaborately, regal and uncomfortable clothes, etc. What is a monarchy but the belief that some people are born higher than others, and isn't that bordering on idolatry and religion? She presents herself as a benevolent, kind, almost holy figure who knows best and who should be obeyed, not just out of fear, but blind belief.

FLIPSIDE: she wears much more minimalist clothing and hair, refuses to think of herself as above anyone and demands to take part in manual work just like anyone else might. She's part strategist, part heavy artillery, and uses her naturally royal nature to elevate others.

Fuyuhiko might not feel too different, but anyone who knew him would be able to tell. All the fiery anger and emotion is gone, and he's just kind of mellowly apathetic, killing people not out of fury but just as a chore. Rarely remotes anything beyond vague amusement or annoyance, kills his own people on a whim, and orders Peko around like a dog. Rumour has it whatever spark he had left died alongside Junko and both eyes are equally (literally, metaphorically) dead.

FLIPSIDE: While less chaotic than most of his friends, hes undeniably passionate and intense in almost everything he does and has become one of the best caretakers of the group. He's mostly a strategist/support player and while he *IS* ruthless towards enemies, he's lso become adept at finding the path with least casualties for both sides.

Kazuichi is a messy, run-down mess of a man who hasnt showered in a week and creates deadly machines in like, a frenzied and obsessed manner. He can turn every harmless thing into something destructive, but often lacks the confidence to do anything but plan it. Completely dependent on other people ordering him around (seems to take comfort in it maybe). All his piercings were done and decided by someone else. Hes convinced hes a complete woe-is-me genius. Real hyena vibes.

FLIPSIDE: makes a point to improve the world with his machines and is 100% dedicated to that goal, no matter what anyone says. Yeah sometimes it goes a bit far and he needs to be reminded to take care of himself, but he's made a decision to be more brave and decisive and trusts people to let him know when he's off-base.

Akane is sorta complicated to me because her biggest lore point was probably pretty late in her despair era. Before Junko's death, she went around fighting whoever and whenever and would compete with Nekomaru to see who could down more people in a certain amount of time. Post-Junko death, she stops eating, stops exercising, and pretty much wastes away. Nekomaru's chains that were meant to make her stronger now weigh her down and remind her how she's never actually going to be strong enough.

FLIPSIDE: once she gets her body mass back, she has had enough time to figure herself out and realize that true strength isnt just sick abs. But that's okay, because she had a strength of mind and soul all along, too. She no longer feels the need to prove her strength (still loves fighting tho!) but leans into her own agility and speed, comfortably depending on heavier hitters do be the damage dealers for her. Still carefree, but this time it's not just ignoring the problems but having come to terms with them.

[moodymisty]

Now I’m picturing a scenario where the Emperor is more apathetic towards the reader’s daughter and lets her go with you to Lorgar. And since (and I could be wrong) the time spent between the razing of monarchia and Lorgar getting “back on track” with planetary compliances was only about a year or so, that would mean that your daughter would be less than a year old when she gets returned to her actual dad.

(And if I’m wrong and it actually took longer than that just. Ignore it. Imagine Lorgar holding a baby. Imagine it right now)

And of course there’s always Lorgar’s slow dawning horror that something truly awful happened to you back in the palace, but theres also the joy of him meeting his daughter!!! — and probably finding out that he had a daughter in the first place. unless you want to go with the tragedy of him believing he could lose both his wife and his future child during monarchia. Either way the options are fun. — of course there’s going to be a bunch of celebrations planned (once you finish taking any 24 hour “holy shit I’ve been through so much” naps that you might need). He wants the whole universe to know that you and him had a child together, that this wonderful new person has been brought into the world. Expect lots of artwork drawn by the populace of you or him (or you and him) holding her Mary and baby Jesus style.

And there’s obviously the more private side of things. Her older brothers think she’s the awesomest baby ever and they will pray for her and die for her and protect her with their lives, sometimes they get a bit too intense about it but they’re Astartes so it’s not that surprising. Lorgar is trying his hardest to console you about what you’ve experienced and is also trying to figure out how this whole “taking care of a baby” thing works, he’s around you both 24/7 because he loves both of you so so so much and is also terribly afraid of losing you again. Kor Phaeron has reached new levels of seething that were previously thought to have been impossible to achieve. And Erebus is stockpiling on permanent markers for the day when his little sister gains hand eye coordination and can be directed at the nearest wall.

Now the baby is having a lot of new experiences too. Mom is still here so she’s not stressed out, but she is confused on why the Large Gold Parental Figure looks different now, why is his hair shorter? What are those gold marks on him?? And she’s got tiny baby eyes that can’t see very well so for the first couple of days she was always suspiciously squinting at Lorgar, that goes away after a while though and quickly gets replaced by her constantly staring at his tattoos (may try to chew on them too. Babies love sparkly things). She’s also confused because mom and dad(?) are calling her by a different name, she’s not called “child” or “baby” anymore. But something else entirely and her mom seems very happy about it (she’s the one who chose it!)

Basically. Imagine things being not as grimdark as they once were. Yes, obviously the galaxy will burn, a civil war will happen, the Imperium will suffer massive losses (you’ll make sure all of it happens). But right now you’re with the love of your life who’s reclining on a couch and reading some old scripture to your daughter, even though she seems to be more interested with the illustrations on the edges of the paper. Life is finally good.

this is so good!! I love this so much anon I love the happier take on this instead of the fucking grimdark greek pantheon mess we've been going with. Which of course I love, but I like seeing different angles <3

[anxiousgaypanicking]

Medical Play

Intrulogical (Remus x Logan) Kinktober 2023 Day Twelve: Medical Play Warnings: needles, latex gloves, sedation drugs, aphrodisiac, blood, vivisection, gore, detailed dissection, eye fucking, restraints, overstimulation, untouched orgasms

"You're going to feel a pinch," Logan explains, as his gloved fingers flick against the side of a syringe. It's filled with a dark pink liquid, and Remus watches as bubbles float up the cylinder. Logan presses on the bottom, squeezing the excess air out, until a bit of the medicine comes shooting out of the needle as well. He then smiles slightly. 

He circles around the metal table Remus is currently strapped too. It'd been a mess trying to convince Remus to lay still enough to allow Logan to buckle his wrists and ankles down, but now he was forced to lay flat and spread out, only able to raise his head and wiggle his fingers and toes. 

"Following immediately after, you're going to feel intense amounts of lethargy and arousal. Mere side effects," Logan adds, as he runs his fingers down the length of Remus's bare arm. 

Logan's latex gloves stick and drag along Remus's sweaty flesh, until Logan's pressing down against Remus's inner elbow. 

He lets out a displeased hum. "You need to drink more water." 

Remus snorts in response. "We're not even real. If you want me to make my veins thicker, you can just tell me to. It'd be fun to have giant veins running through my body anyway." 

"No, no," Logan immediately objects, "this is fine. I might just miss it the first few pokes. But I'm sure you don't mind." 

Logan holds Remus's forearm down - though Remus can't move it anyway - and pushes the needle into Remus's body. It slips easily into Remus's skin, but Logan's immediately pulling it out again and giving a very apathetic "whoops," before poking the needle into Remus's flesh twice more, purposefully missing until small beads of blood decorate Remus's arm. That's when he finally decides to stop teasing, and pushes the needle into Remus's vein, injecting the glowing medicine into Remus's bloodstream. 

Remus groans as he feels the liquid begin to course through him, and licks his lips when Logan pulls the needle out. He knows the medicine is fast-working, but he doesn't expect it to be near immediate. 

As his cock begins to grow hard, Remus lets out a snicker. "God, you're so fucking hot when you're serious, doc," he teases, but Logan just ignores him, dragging a small metal table over. 

Atop it sits scalpels, needles, a small drill, and an extra pair of gloves. 

Logan lifts himself onto the horizontal table, straddling Remus's hips and leaving Remus's half-hard cock grinding against his ass. He intentionally rubs over it a few times just to help work Remus up further, and smirks slightly when he sees Remus's eyes blink slowly. 

"Fuck," Remus curses, with a soft groan, "I already feel heavy." 

"Good," Logan curtly responds, "it means you'll be less likely to even try and squirm when I start cutting into you." 

Remus moans; he knew it was coming, but it's still exciting as Logan disinfects the scalpel and prepares to vivisect him like he's just a piece of meat. Logan's gloves squeak as he runs his fingers over the metal tool, before he's setting it against Remus's upper chest, in the exact center of his body. Then, he's pushing the scalpel in. 

Remus loudly cries out in lazy pleasure as he feels the sharp tool pierce him with ease, sliding into his skin and cutting it open with precision. Logan slices all the way down to his navel, making Remus's body burn with pain, and the injected aphrodisiac. As blood begins to pour down the sides of his ribs, he feels a wave of hot pleasure and extreme fatigue crash over him, making him gasp and struggle to articulate his thoughts. 

He lets out a string of obscenities as Logan sets the scalpel back on the tray, only to let out a strangled noise as Logan carelessly plunges his hands into Remus's open chest. 

Head thumping back against the metal table, Remus bites his bottom lip so roughly it bleeds, before trying to will his body upward to try and hump or grind against Logan's ass, or to at the very least arch his chest against his hands. But both the binds and the sedation drug has him unable to move at all. Even wagging his fingers feels like a tiresome challenge. 

"I want you to skin me alive," Remus pants, as he feels Logan's latex fingers prodding inside of him, sliding over his ribs and liver, even squeezing his lungs and making him wheeze. "Please... please, keep my organs. If you-" he takes a moment to groan in pain, cock leaking against Logan's backside. "If you want them, they're yours." 

"I don't need your permission," is Logan's only response, before Remus feels a maddening, painful ripping sensation as Logan tears his intestines from his body with sickening squelching sounds echoing throughout the room. 

Remus grins in a daze of bliss, moaning out "oh, fuck," as he feels his insides burn with the same aphrodisiac-infused sensation the rest of his body is going through. The hair on the back of his neck is standing straight up as Logan gives him the feeling of being in danger - which makes sense considering Remus's intestines are currently wrapped around Logan's hands - but he loves it. 

"You don't need these," Logan says, as he pulls the large, twisting intestine from Remus's stomach, and tosses it to the floor with a wet flop. "I'll dispose of them later." Logan rubs his gloves together, the blood smearing between the latex, before he wipes his hands dismissively on Remus's skin, staining it red. "You don't need your lungs, either. I think I'll remove those next." 

As the arousing sedation drug begins to seed into Remus's head, he can only let out a foggy moan, watching Logan grab the drill and turn it on. The noise is overwhelmingly loud, and thus very soothing to Remus, who wishes he could raise his head and watch as he feels the vibrations from the drill push into his muscles. 

The pulsating pain is briefly interrupted by burning hot agony as the drill grinds into his ribcage and cuts it open, allowing Logan to sever the stem attaching Remus's throat to his lungs, and pull his lungs out. 

He shows them to Remus, who's teary eyes flicker with excitement, and then tosses them to the ground as well. 

Remus can't breathe anymore. He doesn't need to, but when he has the ability it's involuntary, so now he's just taking in wheezy gasps of air that aren't cycled through him and thus aren't processed. He feels like he's suffocating, and his toes curl in sheer delight. 

Logan hums as he gazes into Remus's chest, before sliding up on Remus's torso so that he was straddling Remus's open ribcage. 

He takes the syringe, and a small bottle of unnamed liquid, which he injects into Remus's neck, which has Remus moaning immediately as even more pleasure and arousal spills into him. He lets out a garbled, bloody cry of "please, please, please," but being unable to breathe makes it harder to talk, so Logan's hardly even able to understand him. 

Logan takes his gloves off of his hands, letting Remus hear the latex squelch as they slide over Logan's skin, and then watches with a whimper as Logan balls them up and shoves them into his mouth. Immediately Remus is sucking his own blood cells off of them, swallowing them down to his cut up innards while Logan slides on the clean pair of gloves, and disinfects his scalpel yet again. 

"This is going to pinch, too," Logan says, as he leans over Remus's face and spreads his eyelid open, forcing Remus to stare at the small tool rapidly descending on his eye. 

The scalpel presses into the side of his eye and slides beneath it, severing the optic nerves behind it and cutting it free from his skull. The pain's so intense that Remus feels like his head is going numb, and drool drips absentmindedly down the corner of his open mouth as he lets out a shuddering breath in place of an excited scream, as he can't hold enough air to make any sort of noise above a whisper. 

With a satisfying pop, Logan plucks Remus's eye right out of his skull, and dangles it briefly over Remus's face. Remus stares at it with his one remaining eye - half of his vision submerged in darkness - and then lets his eyelids flicker shut in excitement as Logan drops the squishy thing on his face, before it rolls off of his cheek and down onto the floor with a splat. 

 "There. Now you have a hole in your face. How wide do you think your eye socket is?" Logan asks, while unzipping his pants. 

"Big... enough..." Remus gasps. 

Logan seems pleased with that answer, and moves forward the rest of the way, kneeling on either side of Remus's face as he pulls his cock out. 

His half hard shaft springs out of his pants and hits Remus in the face, smearing pre in his hair. Logan momentarily grinds his length over Remus's cheek and lips, before pulling it away and positioning it at the fresh, leaking hole he just made in Remus's head. 

Remus feel's the tip of Logan's cock slide against the entrance of his eye socket, and wishes he could touch his cock. 

It's aching and tantalizing, and he feels like he's being purposely edged. Pleasure and pain race through his chest and all the way down to his balls, and even the beads of precome rolling down his length feel amplified, as though it's somebody dragging their nail down his shaft. 

Remus tries to beg Logan to touch him - even though it'd be impossible in Logan's current position - but all that comes out of him is a wet cough that splatters blood over Logan's already red-covered doctor's coat. 

Then, Logan's thrusting his cock into Remus's socket without warning, pushing Remus's head hard against the metal table as he humps Remus's face, fucking the bloody opening and using the red liquid as makeshift lube. His cock repeatedly fucks into Remus's nerves and even against his mushy, overwhelmed brain. Remus's eye rolls back into his head at the feeling of Logan pushing repeatedly into his skull, quite literally fucking his brains out. Logan's rough with him, hardly caring whether or not Remus is getting off on this, but Remus is. 

He can hardly think as his brain is violated, and his wrists strain against his restraints. He wants to touch, but he's not even sure he could move his hands if they were free. 

Above him, Logan moans, soft and almost repressed, as though he'd been fighting to swallow it down. He slides his hand behind Remus's head and lifts it slightly to give himself more leverage, rolling his hips against Remus's face and fucking his cock deep into the slick mass inside of Remus. It's hot and it's defiling, and amongst his soft noises Logan gasps "I can't wait to make a mess of your brain," which has Remus's overstimulated body trembling. 

All of his senses felt overly stimulated due to his sensory receptors being amplified due to the aphrodisiac. Each bit of sweat that rolled down his body felt stimulating, and Logan's knees even slightly grazing against the sides of his bloody neck has Remus moaning. 

With Logan's fingers pulling unintentionally at his hair, jolts of pleasure were being sent down his spine, and as Logan whimpers and thrusts particularly hard into Remus's head, Remus comes untouched, and without a sound. 

If Remus could speak, he'd be letting out a slew of obscenities and generally off-colour remarks about how hot this is and how he wants Logan to violate every nook and cranny of his body like this, but he can't, and so he instead drools a mixture of saliva and blood and tries to watch Logan thrust into his skull with his one remaining eye. The smell of his own blood and their mixed sweat stings Remus's nose, and as he flicks his tongue upwards he can taste the blood that's leaked from his eye and into his mustache, but even moving his tongue saps the energy from him. He's tired, and he's heavy, and he's horny, and Logan's cock is thrusting into his wrinkled brain. 

Remus can feel the blood rushing back to his cock as his arousal builds again. He grins sickly as he hears Logan whimper above him, his thrusts getting more and more sloppy. He gets a glance of Logan biting his knuckles, blood from the latex smearing over his lips as he thrusts, shaking slightly as he uses Remus to pleasure himself. 

"I'm going to keep you strapped here all day," Logan mumbles, filling Remus's ringing ears with his hushed, trembling voice. "I'll cut holes into different parts of you and see how they feel around me. God, I have to find my clipboard..." 

Logan's hands tangle tighter in his hair, pulling on it roughly as he brings Remus's face closer to his pelvis, climbing rapidly to his own orgasm. 

His body is hot, though he knows it's probably incomparable to the bleeding, burning sensations Remus was no doubt experiencing, but he's smart enough to know he's getting close. And that when he comes, he wants to come inside Remus. 

"I can't wait to observe your behavior after your brain's forced to swim in my semen," Logan says, genuinely excited. His voice is brimming with curiosity and pleasure. "Do you think it'll impair any of your abilities? Like walking, or talking, or-" He cuts himself off with a gasp, and whines as he fucks harder into Remus's skull. Anything he was saying is lost in a sudden slurry of gasps and moans, before he's thrusting deep into Remus's skull - his cock pressing hard against Remus's brain - and pulling Remus's head against his hips, right as he reaches his peak. 

He comes loud and rather messily into Remus, filling Remus's brain with hot semen that Logan partially fucks out of him with a few meek hip movements intended to pleasure Logan through his orgasm. With a few more short, uncalculated jerks of his hips, Logan pulls out, and sits back on Remus's chest with his spent cock hanging lazily between his legs. 

Logan watches as the pinkish mixture of blood and come spills from Remus's eye socket, and has to look away out of both excitement and disgust. 

But Remus just croaks out some unintelligible words, which has Logan glancing over his shoulder to stare at Remus's leaking cock, waiting to spill at any moment. Logan sighs, and flips over, straddling Remus's carved open chest, and grimacing when his hips sink deep into Remus's stomach due to his lack of organs. 

He mumbles something like "fascinating," but it sounds more sarcastic than genuine, and then lazily drags his gloves over Remus's cock. 

The slick, bloody latex rubbing over his burning cock has Remus coming in a matter of seconds. 

He's completely silent throughout it, but he's had no choice but to be, and Logan works him through his orgasm before pulling his second pair of gloves off and tossing those to the floor as well. Dismissively, Logan says "maybe I should try cutting your cock off at some point... do you think if I fucked the resulting hole, you'd get off on it?" but even Remus is too fucked out to process it. 

Logan slides off the table and stares at Remus for a moment, and the mess spread around the formerly pristine emergency-room knockoff, and then waves his hand. 

Both he and Remus suddenly land in Logan's bed, with Logan more exhausted after the overexertion of his summoning abilities, but Remus finally being able to take in a huge breath of air as his organs were merely snapped back into his own body. All of the pain has subsided, though as Remus looks down at his bare chest, he's delighted to see Logan's left him with a scar. 

"Oooo," Remus sings, wiggling his eyebrows, "you left me a little memento?" He turns to lay on his side, grinning excitedly at Logan who looks unimpressed by the question. 

"Not quite. I figured if you ever wanted to replicate tonight while alone, it'd be nice to have a guide. Though, forgive me if I admit that I don't expect you to be so precise with your cuts. Even with a guideline, I'm afraid you might not do it perfectly." 

"Well, you could always use it as a guide, if you were ever willing to redo this scenario." 

Logan considers it for a moment, before shaking his head. "No thanks. Next time, I'd like to cut into you in other places." 

That has Remus moaning dramatically, as if Logan's words further excited him. Logan looks annoyed at this, and turns away from him. But Remus just snuggles up behind him, pressing his lanky body against Logan's. 

In his ear, Remus laments "you could have at least left your mess in my skull. I would have loved to turn my head and feel your come sloshing around," but after Logan's hand flings behind him to slap Remus's side in annoyance, Remus shuts up, though does make sure to keep the idea of a "next time" in mind. 

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! /Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! /

 Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here! / Part 12 Here! /

Part 13 Here! / Part 14 Here! / Part 15 Here! / Part 16 Here ! / Part 17 Here! / 

Part 18 Here! / Part 19 Here! / Part 20 here! / Part 21 Here! / Part 22 Here! / 

Part 23 Here! / Part 24 Here! / Part 25 Here! / Part 26 Here! / Part 27 Here! / 

<This is Part 28!>   / Part 29 Here! / Part 30 Here!

A/N: It's baaaaack! A few updates; I know we used to have an update every week, due to mental health and general constraints in time -- This series will no update every other week. In the weeks between you'll get the sneak peak. I know it's not ideal, but with the pace the series is being written at this is the best I can currently offer. Hope you enjoy this part!

* It’s hard to describe the exact sensation that plagued the days after Luke’s betrayal.

* At first it wasn’t terrible, you would rouse from your cabin and make your way to the big house where a comatose Percy slept, pale blue light pouring from your hands.

* While he was still unconscious you could maintain a steady rhythm for your days.

* You would wake up in the morning, drink some nectar, heal Percy, have a snack, and go back to sleep.

* But the second Percy woke up, back to swinging swords and beheading monsters, it felt like every ounce of responsibility left your body.

* Your glass of nectar started to be a bit more full every morning.

* The full breakfast with coffee Dionysus laid out felt less appetizing.

* And you started to find solace in the relief of sleep.

* You watched the three moons of the Underworld all aligned in a burning red sky.

* “Are you okay?” The boy with scars on his chest asks.

* “Of course! I’m fine!”

* A plump red strawberry nestled in your palm.

* “If you want, my mother might be able to help, I could bring you to her.” The woman with hair the color of rust whispers, the cow nestled in her lap snorts.

* “It’s fine, I’m fine.”

* You sit next to a hippie in a strawberry field, her bright hair held up by a tie dye headband.

* “You’ve got to let that stuff go man.”

* “What stuff? I’m fine.”

* You drift from reality to reality, never really sure of what you’re experiencing or what you’re looking for.

* You stand in cold water that comes up to your calves, so clear and blue it feels like liquid aquamarine.

* You can see white doves in the distance, soaring to the place where sky meets water.

* “I haven’t seen you in a while.” It’s the boy from earlier, the one with pure white hair, Zeus’s personal secretary.

* He seems more tan now though.

* “You look awful.”

* He still doesn’t seem to have much tact.

* Flustering under your apathetic gaze, his cheeks bloom a rosy hue, hand up in surrender.

* “N-not in a bad way, it’s just you usually…” his gaze softens, his freckles glinting like amber under the sunlight. “You usually seem as vibrant as a fresh rose.”

* Well, that’s quite a compliment.

* “I was betrayed by a friend recently,” you shrug and he gapes “but it’s fine, I’m—”

* “No you’re not fine! How could you be?” He grasps your shoulders in his hands, forcing you to face him entirely. “You were betrayed by your friend, how can you be okay?”

* “Because everyone expects me to be.”

* The words snap whatever feeble grip you have on your emotions.

* You feel the intense burn before you feel the heat of your tears as life down your face, cooling at the nape of your neck.

* Despair you’ve kept carefully contained begins to curl off your form

* Your hands move to cover your face, tears collecting on your wrist as your furiously move to wipe the remnants of your sadness away.

* The boy doesn’t let you feel bad for long, paying no mind to the physical pain of the despair that curls off of your form, tugging you to his chest.

* “You’re just a child, you’re allowed to feel sad.”

* The tears come harder now, sobs muffled by his broad chest, his warm hand on your back.

* You wake up sniffling, blurry eyes taking in the ceiling of your cabin, your alarm clock flashing three fourty-two in the morning.

* You clutch your heart, feeling tears slip down your face.

* You swallow hard and shuffle on an old sweatshirt and your slippers.

* You walk across camp in quick steps, past the training grounds where you see a flicker of his figure, past the porch of the Hermes Cabin where you would laugh with him, past Thalia’s tree where you sat and had picnics, each step punctuated with traces of your blue despair.

* You still for a moment at the Big House, but continue down the hills, Dionysus as kind as he is, isn’t who you need right now.

* You make your way down to the small hill, the place you first met him all those years ago.

* You feel that burning again.

* Despair curling off of your body like an aura, the grass at your feet withering away.

* You kneel on the barren earth, tears sliding down your face.

* You place your hands out, flinching away at the last moment.

* ‘Asking for help is always the hardest part.’

* You take a quick breath, tears shaking from your eyes, pressing your hands against the earth twice and before you can fully think you say: “Aidoneus.”

* He wraps you in his arms before you can croak out a word.

* “He betrayed me…HE BETRAYED ME!” You shriek, collapsing in on yourself like a dying star.

* He holds you tight, a hand cradling your head.

* “It’s okay, I’m here now, you’re okay.” He takes your despair like it’s his own, a monster who’s lived in his shadow all his life, only offering a single tear in its face.

* The hill outside Canp Halfblood is dyed blue that night, the divine boundary the only thing saving a dozen campers from melancholy dreams.

* “I keep wondering if there was something I could have done, something I could have said,” you sniff after you’ve calmed down, your face pressed against the soaked cotton of his button down shirt.

* He doesn’t say anything for a long time.

* “That boy…” you look up, eyes red rimmed. “Just as you have something you want to do, something you think only you can do, that boy feels the same.”

* You can see it, Luke, so distraught and torn after being a plaything for the gods for so long reaching out to the hand of a Titan who promised him a different kind of future, for him and for every child who came after him.

* “If you care for him,” Hades cradles your face in both of his palms, “if you care for that mortal boy like you were split from the same star, and carved from the same flesh, then I promise you nothing on earth, the underworld, or Olympus will keep you from reaching him.” He presses his forehead against yours and you nod.

* There was never any doubt.

* ‘If Luke’s lost his way then it’s no big deal, he has friends to bring him back.’

* “Do you feel better?” He asks, and you nod, your worn sweatshirt cuffs dabbing at your eyes. “Good, now drink.”

* He holds the flask to your lips and the sweet taste of your fathers slightly burnt chocolate chip cookies floods your mouth.

* “I lost your flask,” you suddenly remember, before sheepishly adding: “sorry.”

* He grins.

* “I know, it’s okay. It’s a miracle you all made it out—in comparison a flask is inconsequential.”

* His hand strokes your hair bank, his eyes warm as he looks down at you.

* “We’re all on your side.”

* “I know.”

* And you do, the proof is littered on your arm, blessings from each of them and every god they could find, trading favors and secrets to make sure you were secure.

* “As a king and a god, there will be times where I can’t show you explicit favor,” like he already hasn’t or something. “But if you call for me, I will always answer.”

* “Me too.” You’re not sure why you say it, just that it feels right, a smile illuminating your face. “If you call for me, I’ll answer you too.”

* He smiles so wide you feel like you catch a glimpse of the boy he once was.

* “Go, they're waiting for you.” He nods to Thalia’s tree, and you begin the climb up the steep hill, turning back to wave goodbye before he dissipates into smoke.

* When you reach the top, gold hued dawn breaking over the skyline, you’re met with three figures.

* Percy and Annabeth rush towards you first:

* “We’re going to go find him next summer,” Annabeth starts.

* Percy nods beside her. “We’ll bring him back.”

* Clarisse approaches you behind them. “He’s just going through a bout of teenage rebellion, a slap upside the head will set him straight.

* Grover nods beside her, still dressed in his nightshirt. “He’s just a little confused.”

* Dionysus smiles, “With all of us working together it’s just a matter of time until we bring Luke back home!”

* You feel the warmth of hope bloom in your chest, tears of joy stinging the corners of your eyes.

* “How could be possibly refuse when all of you are waiting for him?”

* ‘Because no one who’s lost ever stays lost.’

* Summer comes to an end, and for once everyone’s going home, you wave to Percy, Clarisse, and Annabeth as you part at the boundary line, going to your respective families.

* You think you see Clarisse cry a little when her mother greets her with a hug.

* “Everytime I pick you up from here I get the strange urge to shove you in the car and never bring you back.” Your father says when you’re nestled in his passenger seat.

* “What a completely normal thing to say to your child, do you have any other normal sayings or is this your best one?”

* “Alright smartass, you’ve got your uniform fitting the day after tomorrow.” You groan, a new year meant a new uniform.

* “They’re always so uncomfortable.” You mumble, face in your hands.

* You think about Luke more than you’d like to admit in the coming week, even out of camp you can’t help wondering where he is.

* Is he eating well? You think while you try your fathers new and improved risotto.

* Is he somewhere safe? You think when rain hits the glass window outside of Barney’s as the tailors fuss over your form.

* Is he able to sleep at night? You think when you’re cozy in your bed.

* And each time you strengthen your resolve.

* ‘I’m going to get him back.’ You think with every hearty bite of risotto.

* ‘He’s going to come back.’ You reinforce, meeting the tailors suggestions head on.

* ‘I’m going to save Luke Castellan, and not even Kronos can stop me.’ You manifest, right before you drift into silky black unconsciousness.

* You’re in a pavilion, ivory white columns on either side and white marble under your feet.

* Before you is possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, skin the color of dark amber, golden eyes, and tawny tresses.

* A jagged scar runs over his right eye, but even that only seems to accentuate the symmetry of his features.

* “Is there something I can help you with, godling?” He doesn’t spare you a glance, his eyes fixed on the green trees in the distance.

* You immediately fluster.

* Normally you would apologize, but instead what comes out of your mouth is:

* “Just because you’re beautiful doesn’t mean you can be cold, you know.”

* ‘Now I’m really in for it.’

* He raises an eyebrow.

* “Do you jest Demi-god?”

* You take the quirk of his lips as an invitation to sit beside him, taking in the scenery.

* “Whatever, like you don’t know you’re stupid hot.”

* “Hot? I think I’m the correct temperature.” He touches his forehead and you laugh.

* “No like…you’re handsome.”

* He smiles at you, and when he turns to face you, you realize where his left arm should be in a hood mechanical device in the shape of a human hand.

* ‘That’s interesting.’

* “I can’t say I share your sentiment.”

* “How did it happen?”

* He shrugs.

* “My Father betrayed me.” He shrugs.

* “Wow, your dad is super shitty.” Somehow he’s even worse than a deadbeat like Poseidon or a serial womanizer like Zeus.

* “Do you also have an awful Father?”

* “No, my Dad is the best.” He visibly deflated when you tell him that, earning a laugh. “But I recently had a good friend show a display of extreme betrayal.” Your eyes widen, the corner of your mouth twitching.

* “We could be betrayal buddies!”

* You said it as a joke, still you weren’t expecting the handsome man to laugh as hard as he did. You find yourself laughing along, waking up in your bed with tears in the corners of your eyes and laughter spilling past your lips.

* “What a wonderful dream.”

* You walk to school that morning feeling a little lighter. Excited to see all your old friends and classmates. Maybe you’ll even learn something interesting.

* ‘This is going to be a good year.’

* So imagine your surprise when you see a certain ocean-eyes boy at the gate.his gaze widens when he meets your eyes.

* “Hey (Y/N), do you go to Saint Catherine’s too?” Percy asks with a grin.

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[violets-and-books]

JESPER THOUGHTS TIME BECAUSE IF EVERYONE ELSE CAN DO IT SO CAN I

This is a man who longs to be loved. He longs to be loved and to be allowed to love. This is, genuinely, the first impression of him I got from the books. When Bollinger was revealed as a traitor, Jesper didn't react with anger, as you'd expect from someone who, yknow, had been betrayed. All he said was "Oh, Big Bol... you idiot." And it sounds REGRETFUL. He regretted what Bollinger had done, he regretted being betrayed by someone he saw as his friend. He and Bollinger weren't even that close but he acted so regretful and disappointed

He wants to love. He reaches out so desperately to everyone around him. He reaches out to Kaz so much, everyone's analysed that to death, but he reaches out to EVERYONE. Everything about him is crafted so people will like him. The humour, the flirting, the style, the laid-back personality, it's all a way to present a version of himself that everyone will like. And it takes such a toll on him - we see that with his gambling and his intense self loathing - but he doesn't try to change it. Because he wants people to like him so much

Jesper's childhood was so full of love. His mum loved his dad, his dad loved his mum his mum loved him and his dad loved him. There wasn't a person in that house who didn't feel intensely, completely loved and accepted. Out of all the Crows, Jesper had the healthiest early childhood.

And then his mum died.

And he suddenly didn't feel so loved or accepted anymore. Not because of anything anyone did but because his mum's powers had killed her and her death ripped a huge rift through the family. Colm still loved Jesper but he was afraid for him. Afraid that his zowa would take Jesper from him like it took Aditi from him. So, Jesper learnt to hide that part of himself. He learnt that, in order to be loved, he had to hide parts of himself away. He had to hide his power, the dangerous part of himself, the part his mother had given to him.

Then, when he fell into the Barrel, he had to hide more of himself. I'm fairly certain he was only 15 when he dropped out of uni. He was incredibly young and probably absolutely terrified. And so many of the people around him were strong and apathetic and dangerous. So, again, Jesper learnt and he adapted. He's a master of change, he can create whatever image of himself he wants. He knows how to make people like him.

All because he wants to be loved. Because he wants to love. He trusts and loves people so implicitly, so quickly, he treasures his friends. He loves people so deeply and completely, verging on the edge of blindness. And people just don't give him that love and trust back. He fights for it. Every bullet out of his gun, every quip or insult or fist thrown is because he wants his friends to love him. He wants to be useful and needed and wanted. He's got such a hole in his heart, such a well of emptiness, that he doesn't let anyone see. Because if people know he's weak, if people know he's human, they won't like him anymore. If they know he's more (or less) than the jokes and the empty promises and the easy pick-up lines and the guns and the flash, they won't love him anymore and he will be completely, utterly alone with his thoughts

[elysian-writing]

thoughts abt canon bartylus?

okay so. this ended up being a lot longer than i expected so i'll keep it mostly under the cut aksjnd i could talk a lot more about how i personally see them in canon and their actual dynamic but that's another conversations so here's the bare bones of their canon relationship ( in my opinon )

canon bartylus are honestly so special to me. i definitely don't think it would be a 'healthy' relationship persay but it's definitely more than a simple word can explain. like. i don't think any of them would label it, especially as the war begans to play more of a role in their lives, and their relationship starts to feel a lot more desperate. it's like-- holding on to something that has always been constant, so much that if you let go you don't know how you'll live without it, or whether you can live without it. they definitely wouldn't be making each other better, or even healing them in a way. it would be very much a 'i don't care how bad you get, i will still be here, i will always be here' type of thing. especially on barty's side. to me, canon-wise i feel like barty would've been able to join voldemort / joined voldemort because of regulus. he doesn't actually care all that much about blood-purity, but it's both in spite of his father and because of regulus. however, somewhere along the line, it starts to blur between whether he's doing this for regulus or for himself. regulus, on the other hand, i see as a lot more delusional. he's rather brutal, even more brutal, in a way, and watches as barty descends into something he can't return from in a very apathetic way. he sees the cracks and the fractures but refuses to aknowledge them. i do think he cared about blood purity, but as time passed on, everything would've started to feel a lot more futile as time passed on and nothing seemed to change. honestly i think the further they went into the war, the wider the rift between them would've grown. not in a way where they don't know each other, or their feelings become less intense, but in the way where they're in it too deep and the further they go, the worse it gets, but there's nothing they can do about it. the two of them know each other in a way that is so integral to who they are. it's not always about understanding but just about knowing and seeing and still being accepting regardless of anything. however, i think they would lie to each other a lot. not because it actually works, but because they both want to hold on to what they have for as long as they can, knowing that one day one or both of them are going to have to let go. in the end, it's regulus. ( i have so many thoughts on what changes his mind / motivates him to do it but that's for a later time ) he knows he's going to die. he enters the cave regardless. barty, in a way, knows what's going to happen because they can never truly hide anything from each other, but by that point they are both so cracked in a way that he refuses to truly see it. he hears the news and something inside of him breaks so completely that he knows he'll never be able to repair it. and he's completely fine with that. barty always knew that if it hadn't been for regulus, he would've turned into something to be afraid of so much sooner. i think it's around this point that barty truly stops caring about much of anything. he knows he wants to survive, he knows he wants to serve voldemort-- because if he doesn't have one constant, he's going to be left adrift, but he doesn't really feel anymore.

[all-pacas]

Have you thought anymore about the houseswapped au? How do the fellows behave around each other? How much of a kissass is fellow House? Are Foreman and Chase actually friends?

i am obsessed with this weird reverse dynamic house chase thing. because the more you think about it, the more insane it is, right?

house is younger. idk how old, exactly, but he's early thirties at most, he hasn't had his infarction, he hasn't had stacy. for all that house is an asshole - and he is - he has moments of real admiration for others. he likes people who are right, who don't care, who are right despite what people think of them: has he ever had a mentor before? a teacher he actually admired? in this universe, chase is the genius diagnostician, it's not a field house invented.

and even though chase is in house's "role," he's still not going to do it the same. he's distant and he's cold and he's fucked up, but chase has never been an asshole in the same way house is: he's an ass, for sure, but he's not as… extroverted. he's a quieter person. his methods are different: he's socially adept, even if he just uses it to kiss ass and watch his own back. chase in this universe didn't have a mentor to emulate: quite the opposite, he had his father (and didn't have house to imprint on). i think chase-as-house is a quieter person. he avoids talking to patients, he's gunshy and withdrawn, but he's still perceptive. he's still good at it. instead of calling people out on their lies, he talks them into confessing them. he pretends to care. (it's insincere, he's not quite wilson. he just knows how to play people.) in this world's version of damned if you do, he finds out about the nun's abortion by sitting with her and talking to her and quoting bible verses and making her think he's a friend, and then never speaking to her again once he has what he needs (not because he doesn't care, but because he does not want to). he doesn't push people away by being a jerk and lashing out, he pushes them away by icing them out and putting on a front of apathy. that house cares, intensely, is never really a secret in the show: even in the pilot, once he talks to the patient he can't pretend he doesn't care anymore. chase, meanwhile, is regularly accused of being fake and apathetic and incapable of care, even when he spends large chunks of the series openly pining (for his father's affection, for house's approval, for cameron generally). the contrast between house and chase has always made me insane. and in this au??

how would house-as-chase respond to this? would house try to copy this fake empathy and manipulation? would house be less of an overt asshole and more of a manipulator? or would he become louder and pushier to try and cover his boss's lacks? if dr chase is the first mentor figure house has ever had (uno reverse daddy issues time), does house get clingy in that house-ish way? openly proud of their 'friendship' even as he's a bad student and not a great friend? does house try to adopt that chase brand of icy apathy? does chase open up to house in this world? see himself in house?

i think swapped house is an asskisser, not in the same obvious way chase is, but in the… needy kid trying to impress the boss way. he is the BEST at breaking and entering, he ALWAYS has to have the most and smartest ideas (will throw cuddy and wilson under every single bus to win), is sort of hyperactive in his pushiness and desire to be number one (he's still too much of an asshole to do the chase fake empathy thing, although he thinks it's hot shit). i think swapped chase is more openly fond of house than house ever was him in the real world, but still too wary and closed off (he's older, he never had the mentors and friends and team of normal chase, he never had anyone to fall back on when his father died, his one romance went even worse than in canon) to really play favorites — caring leads to pain! — or indulge. if in this universe wilson or cuddy pull a s1 cameron and lust uncontrollably for chase, i think house gets pissed off. not out of sexual/romantic jealousy, but because it's a distraction, it's not what chase needs, because he wants to be the top student, fuck you.

[shunshunrika]

Your Midnights, My Daylight (Gojo x Reader x Yuta) - Chap 1

Chapter List

Synopsis: After a heartbreaking separation from the love of your life, Satoru Gojo, You find yourself entangled with a mysterious young man by the name of Okkotsu who always seems to have the answer to your questions and the solution to all your problems. While Gojo becomes the midnights you can't possibly outsleep, the new man in your life tries to bring in the daylight and you wonder if love deserves a second chance.

content warnings: f! Reader x gojo x yuta, talks about a past relationship, description of trauma, alcohol use, passing out, profanity.

Word count: 1.1k

“You know, M-Mr. Okko” you try to control the drool that threatens to drip down your chin. “Men? They are vile. Foul. Loathable. Base creatures.”

“And why do you feel so, Miss Y/N?” The young, slick haired man cocks his head, waiting eagerly for an explanation about your extreme opinions. Through your blurry vision, you can make out that he is smiling at you in earnest. You hate men who smile at you. Liars.

“What’s not vile about them!” you thump your balled up fist on the bar counter, shaking up the shot glasses. The bartender throws you a dirty glance but you couldn’t care less.

“They lie. They cheat. They manipulate. They smell gross most of the day. They do gross things most of the time. Ugh, if all of them can just—”

“Alright, alright. Calm down there — ” he says, trying to steady you but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you dare tell me what to do! And do not —" you grit your teeth. “Don't you dare touch me!"

The pressure in your jaw is so intense as you let pure rage blind you. You start feeling light headed very soon and the last thing you see is twinkling blues and purples of glassware and drinks as you drown into black.

You see the blue split into two orbs that reflect the sky and your breath hitches. You reach out towards the blue with all your strength.

“Satoru…” you say softly as you feel yourself melting away at the thought of your lover.

His brilliant smile, his protective hands.

His pouty lower lip whenever you teased him.

The way he told you that you were his little flower.

And the way he held your hand tight while you explored the city, not wanting to lose each other in the crowd.

Slowly though, the vivid blue fades to an empty black.

When you finally regain your senses, you are no longer seated on the cold metal stool of some hole in the wall bar. You feel satin wrap around your body comfortably. You are still clad in the maroon mini dress you wore last night — all drenched in sweat now. The last thing you want to see is a naked man beside you and thank god, you are alone in the safety of your room — with a cloying headache attacking your temple. You try to get out of your bed and head to the washroom to wake yourself up, trying to piece together last nights events. You remember getting wasted, having a conversation with some man whose face you can't remember. Your throat is sore so you probably shouted a lot. You have no idea how you made it home though.

You eye your reflection in the mirror. Mascara everywhere. Hair clumpy and matted. Lipstick overflowing out of your lip line. You look like a piece of work.

Lemon tea. Yes. That will fix you.

You wash your face up quickly and pat it dry, walking out of your room and straight to the kitchen. The person you hate second-most in the world is standing there cooking eggs and toast, quietly. You don't care to greet her a Good Morning. In fact the kettle of water happens to land on the counter with more of a clang than you intended it to.

She jumps a little, looks at you once but then turns back.

You start humming to yourself as you put a tea bag into your cup and fill it with water.

“Um —” your flatmate begins. You turn around and cock an eyebrow at her. She tries very hard to sound apathetic but it's clear that she is scared. Scared of you. As she should.

“The guy from last night asked me to give you this.”

You place a hand on your hip while the other shakes the teabag.

“What guy?"

"The one you came with? Um.. the one who dropped you home last night?” she says but you still don't get it.

“Give me some context and help me out here, Uta.”

“Ugh!” she sighs. “Just take this. I'm running late anyway.” she hands you a piece of paper and starts on her way out of the kitchen.

“Heading over to Satoru?” you ask gingerly, sipping your tea and leaning on the counter.

“None of your business.” she looks back to let you know.

“Why isn't it my business who my boyfriend hangs out with huh?” you ask, still sipping your tea. At that she makes a really funny expression.

“Y/N, please. I am sorry Satoru didn't choose you but you have to stop believing that you guys dated. He already said he never made it official with you and doesn't see you that way.” Uta states. You can see the concern in her voice — for who, you don't know. Maybe she believes you are going crazy. Maybe you are.

“Keep telling yourself that Satoru likes you, Uta.” you say, crumpling the piece of paper in your hand. “This is temporary. He finds your hot but he'll get bored of you soon.” you smile at her.

“I am the one he loves.” you declare on your way out of the kitchen, bumping shoulders with her.

“I am the one Satoru loves.”

He doesn't love her.

S-so what if she is prettier and better liked?

I am the one who Satoru really has feelings for.

It's me. It's always been me.

He'll get bored of her soon.

Right?

Yeah, he will.

The wave of nausea hits you before you even enter your room and you take just enough leaps to make it to the toilet bowl in time.

You retch out in the bowl, your tea, the alcohol from last night and all the myriad of feelings your fostering.

It's been months now.

You need to get over it.

Satoru’s not with you anymore.

He picked her. He chose her. He wants to be with her.

No amount of beauty, talent or personality will make him pick you.

Soon enough your tears drop into the toilet as well along with your vomit.

It doesn't take long enough for you to start bawling as you hear a door open and close somewhere in the house.

As you hiccuup and your lips quiver, you slowly open up your fist to see the crumpled paper. You open it up and see faint words on it.

“Okkotsu Yuta — 4XX8388280. Thought you might need this. Call me any time.”

You would rather die than make the same mistake again.

[mollysunder]

Jinx's Maybe New Gun is Weird

Jinx is likely due for one more weapon upgrade. Where she turns in her gun for the Zapper Gun. In the context of Arcane, Jinx's Zapper Gun is an interesting weapon. It's a shock pistol with a nice hex crystal at the front that STUNS enemy combatants rather than shooting them with the gun she has during the first season. A gun that straightforwardly just kills people (and birds). And I'm just like... why?

I can understand that she could lose the pistol she has in the next season (Hell, Legends of Runeterra is hinting at it. The alt text for this card says: "Okay, okay, this may only work once, but trust me, it’s gonna be a blast!" - Jinx). But she chooses to replace it with a fancy stun gun? Jinx is a gunsmith, she makes her own weapons, so if she lost her regular gun, why would she make a more complicated and significantly less lethal (unless you have a heart condition) weapon? It's not like Jinx is afraid to kill or hurt people. Which makes the Zapper gun such a weird and deliberate choice, and the biggest question before the new season starts really is why.

It'd be easy to just assume maybe it's a desperate short notice weapon she made on the fly when she's on a lot of people's shit lists and needs to make moves. But again, the Zap gun's more complicated and frankly more delicate to make, so she'd need time and space for it, which she won't have a lot of. So what's with the restraint?

My first thought was that Sevika got to her and put her on a strict leash to do specific missions next season and Sevika wanted to reduce the chance of friendly fire. But that would require Sevika to actually control Jinx in some way which is unlikely. No one in the show can make Jinx do anything, you can't really threaten her, and to just force her means you need to be able to have enough expendable resources to ATTEMPT to threaten her with violence, and Jinx doesn't have a healthy fear of death, so really, she has to want to do it.

Could it have been through an shaky team up with Ekko to sabotage Piltover in the coming conflict? Ekko doesn't immediately go for throat like she does, so maybe it was a compromise to reduce the potential kill count. But Ekko would have to be desperate to work with Jinx. Sure they shared a moment on the bridge, but his crew would literally need to all be dead before they let her in. Ekko would NEED to be in dire straits to temporarily work past the harm she caused him and his people.

Maybe Singed offer her refuge, maybe along with Viktor? It's one of the more far fetched thoughts. Singed isn't very compassionate, but he isn't a sadist either, he's more intensely apathetic to the world outside of his work. Maybe he takes an interest in the way the Shimmer experiment affected her physiology and wants to keep her alive to observe her. Watch how the mutation survives through her maybe.

My most far fetched idea would be she creates the Zapper Gun for Warwick. Jinx has already killed enough of her family and she doesn't want to kill her dad that came back to life, no matter how monstrous he is. Maybe Jinx would want to only incapacitate Warwick till she can get him somewhere safe with her but not only won't he calm down but the scent of blood drives his anger and bloodlust. Jinx could be trying to reduce remove any chance stimulating his bloodlust.

These are all shots in the dark honestly, maybe her electric gun with be fantasy weapon extra deadlier than a normal sufficient gun, idk.

[steviebbboi]

Red (Chapter 02)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

Summary:

Eleana Harlow (Ellie) is an Enhanced Individual turned Avenger. She's also Steve's everything. She just doesn't really know it yet.

Warnings: non-canon, slight canon divergence, sorta established relationship, OFC has powers and is POWERful, enhanced!reader, protectiveSteve!, softDom!Steve, steve and OFC are intimate, angst, eventual smut, friend(ish) to lovers, mentions of mental health issues and PTSD, mentions of dissociative episodes, mentions of violence/death but its not too explicit. (* indicates chapters containing smut)

Would love some feedback, and any reblogs and comments are appreciated! MINORS DNI - DO NOT read unless you're 18+ thank you!

DISCLAIMER NOTE:

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Chapter 02. Fire Hazard

“Well, took you long enough. Was about to send the Iron Legion on your ass for that core spike. But most importantly, to check on my coffee.” Tony piped as she exited the elevator into the common space of the tower. 

Ellie rolled her eyes and replied, “Stark, even if you did send the Legion, they would’ve only found me reducing my core temperature. Like I was trained to do, remember?” The latter half of her inquiry laced with sarcasm. 

The team knew that she was more than capable of managing her heat spikes. The StarkWatch was programmed to alert everyone on the team when her core temperature went over the regular temperature of the human body. In a normal human’s case, it would be 98.6F. In Ellie’s case, her threshold stood over 110F. 

Ellie’s time training with SHIELD involved intensive mindfulness breathing exercises and various other grounding skills to be able to manage her own body temperature. She understood the power of breath and how she uses it determines how she regulates not only her body, but her mind. A necessity for an Enhanced individual like Ellie. 

In that moment, Ellie thought back to how a former SHIELD therapist once described it within a written profile and scoffed to herself. ���The Enhanced individual requires down regulating skills due to their reported extensive trauma history and poor ability to control stated Enhancements. The Enhanced individual is recommended weekly psychotherapy, physical therapy, and pyro-kinesthetics training. The Enhanced individual is not currently recommended for field work. Further to be assessed.” 

Ellie darkly chuckled to herself quietly at the morose characterization. “Well, he wasn’t wrong.” 

Tony took his coffee from her outstretched hand and said with a more serious tone, “That StarkWatch is there to save lives, Dante. Not just theirs, but yours. Like it's trained to do, remember?” 

Ellie smirked at the attempted joviality, “Yes, I know, Stark. Don’t get all weepy on me now.” She did appreciate how Tony and the others cared about her. Despite her own self-loathing, she wasn’t an apathetic monster. Far from it, she enjoyed being needed, especially knowing that her team trusts her to watch their back- as she does them. It helps her heal.

Tony chuckled and whatever tension that was there had left. “Not a chance. My tears would disassemble the team once they realized it would heal the world. Figured that we still may need your fiery goddess-like powers to put out some flames.” 

Looking behind you, he smirked dramatically, “Ah, incoming- here comes a hazard now!” Recognizing his less than subtle warning, associated with the familiar loud footsteps, Ellie sighed deeper and cringed. She turned around knowing exactly what to expect.

In all his stature and glory, Steve Rogers was a commanding force in every room that he entered. Standing tall at his full height, shoulders back and broad, his handsome face slight with a frown - he walked towards Ellie with intention in his dark gaze. He was wearing his training gear and exuded power and a determined energy. Ellie clamped her lips together before she let out another exasperated sigh. “Why does he have to look so good during moments like this?” she annoyingly thought to herself. 

“Friday, you were supposed to let me know when to clear the room! ” Ellie whispered angrily to the ceiling.

“Apologies, Agent Harlow. Captain Rogers had overridden your command after your last core temperature alarm.”

Ellie sighed and rolled her eyes, “Of course, he did.” She whispered now to herself. Looking at Steve’s face as he got closer, she can see that he also didn’t appreciate the secret command that she gave to Friday should this ever happen again. 

“Steve, you already know–” she began to explain. It was always like this when her heat spiked. With the notification going to every member of the team, she was always met with concerned check-in’s from her friends. The captain, however, always came in with concern and frustration. As team leader, Steve didn’t particularly enjoy it when one of his teammate’s were in danger, to others or themselves. More specifically, Steve didn’t like knowing that Ellie was in danger, period. 

Steve interrupted her before she could even start to console him. “Ellie, I know that you know what to do should your temperature ever spike. But this is the fourth time this month. It used to be once every six months. I let you avoid it the last time but not anymore. What’s going on?” He stopped in front of her with his hands on his hips. Now that he was closer, she could see more worry in his eyes than anger. 

He resembled a scolding figure if she ever saw one. Her frustration peaked when she felt her initial intention to dismiss his concern had now disappeared when she noticed the sincerity of his inquiry. She knew that the super soldier was just looking after her. The first time that her core heat had risen over the past month, concern was there but was dismissed due to the fact that it had historically spiked sporadically. But then it happened again the next week. And then the following week. And then today. 

Ellie knew that the episodes were triggering it. It was almost the anniversary of the incident, and she knew that the episodes were frequent when it was coming close to the date. She just didn’t like to admit it because she should have been healed by now. She shouldn’t be this impacted by it anymore. 

In her own head, now paired with the guilt for making the others- Steve, worry, Ellie frowned and put her hand to her furrowed brow. A headache brewing out of frustration with herself. She let out a heavy sigh that carried weight that the super soldier could understand. 

“Hey,” Steve implored softly and gently gripped her arms. “We’re just worried about you, Red. You know that you can tell me anything.” 

At his touch, Ellie flushed and her entire body seemed to relax before she could even consciously recognize it. The brewing headache seemed to dissipate. His words washed over her with a familiar nurturing comfort that she always received from Steve. 

Red. A name that only Steve was allowed to call her. Barton tried to call her that once before when they were on the quinjet on their way to a mission. The long, silent look that Steve sent him was intimidating enough to quiet the whole hull. It was an instantaneous reaction and she didn’t think that Steve even remembered doing it to this day. But that was the last time that anyone had ever attempted to say it. 

Ellie let out another sigh and admitted with closed eyes, “The episodes…they’ve been more frequent the past few weeks.” A burning discomfort floated back into her body as she confessed. 

Steve caught Tony’s eyes behind her and the tech genius only pursed his lips in understanding. His usual quipped humor silenced, he took his coffee and left the room. Giving the two remaining Avengers the privacy that even Tony Stark could recognize and respect. 

With the two standing there in a muted silence, Steve broke it by squeezing her arms gently. At the additive touch, her eyes opened. Brown eyes filled with sadness and resentment matched a bright, soft, and caring blue gaze. “The anniversary is the beginning of next month.” He stated, understanding laced in his tone.

Ellie trusted, respected, and cared for all of her teammates. Her gratitude extended from the very first time that she had ever met them, worked with them, and gotten to know them. It’s only been 3 years since she officially joined the Avengers team but it felt like decades. When you go through these missions, these intense and traumatic world-shifting events, you’re going to learn all that there is to know about respecting life. And the members on the team understood that and each other in ways that nobody else ever could. 

But Steve– oh, Steve. He was a man out of time. He understood more than anyone what it was like to have had, to take, and to lose. Family. Friends. A first love. Just like she did. Through his transformation, he had to find himself again in the purest, but sometimes, most painful of ways. He had to learn to adapt to a new world. Just like she did. She and Steve were able to understand each other in ways that the other team members couldn’t. And that wasn’t an observation, nor was it a cold or isolating fact. It just was. 

This connection brought them closer over the years, and maybe in ways that the other team members could observe, and the two people in question couldn’t. 

After the mention of the anniversary, Ellie released a relieving breath. Her breathing skills now kicked in as she forced herself to regulate. She never felt more vulnerable than whenever she had to talk about the incident. Even with Steve.

Noticing this, Steve knew that it was his cue, and rubbed his hands over her arms slowly. His thumbs slowly circled her soft skin at the same time. He took the next breath with her.

“That’s it, Red. You’re okay.” He whispered and brought her closer to his chest. Their height difference put her forehead to perfectly land just underneath his collar bone. Appreciating the co-regulation, Ellie felt her hands grip Steve’s biceps in attempts to continue grounding. He was her rock. A domineering but calm force that she knew would help her move through her symptoms. 

It was like that for a couple of minutes. Steve kept whispering his reassurances, I’m with you, Red. You’re okay, El. All the while, she put her entire weight on him, her hands that were gripping his arms now tightened as she finally broke down. She didn’t want it to get to this point. She felt like a burden to the team, to Steve, and a burden to herself. But relief was all that she felt. To be able to just cry and not be judged for it. To hug someone and to feel them hug you back. It’s what she needed, and Steve gladly gave it to her.

Now hugging her to him, Steve readjusted their position and now had one arm around her waist, rubbing circles on her back. The other hand resting on the back of her neck underneath her hair. Ellie gripped the back of his shoulders like a lifeline. It always feels this intense, for some reason. It’s almost as if the incident happened just yesterday. 

A minute or two passed and Ellie’s soft sobs quieted down into short sniffles. Steve took this as another cue to check in and put enough space between them for him to catch her eye. He kept his hands around her waist and neck, prepared to bring her back in closer to him should she still need him to do so. 

Even though her eyes were now shiny, red, and slightly puffy, Steve’s empathy shined through as he met her calm and content gaze. “Hi, there.” He offered with a small grin. 

Ellie sniffled a little before returning his smile with a genuine smile of her own. “Hi, Steve.” Finally coming back into herself after a much needed emotional release, she detached herself from Steve. Not completely so but just to rest her hands on his chest while his shifted down her back. 

“How do you feel?” He asked with concern still apparent in his voice. She nodded her head slightly and said, “Better.” He softly grinned and let out a good while his right hand left her waist to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers before putting her hair behind her ear carefully. She smiled more at the care through his actions. 

Unbeknownst to Steve, he was gazing at her with a look that she will never tire of seeing upon his face. While they were always close, physical signs of affection took time to foster between the two. Ellie flushed and smiled slightly every time Steve either caressed her cheek, stroked her hair, gave her a hug or rubbed her arm, or waist. But she never denied it. She welcomed his touch happily and appreciated the soft gaze that was associated with it. 

Ellie liked to believe that his gaze held something more than just a quick look. She would like to believe it's because he saw her as more than a teammate, or even a friend, caring for another. It was personally nurturing, protecting. A softness that only seemed to be reserved for her. Naturally, it felt intimate and romantic - the way that he would look at her sometimes. He never seemed bothered by it after he initiated it, nor did she call him out on it. If she had to continue to take from him- soft touches and protective gazes she would blissfully take from Steve. 

“You can’t let yourself bottle it all in, Red. Dr. Winsherr said that the episodes will never really just fade away. No matter how much time has passed, with PTSD, it will take its time.” Steve said to her gently. Ellie looked down at her hands on his chest and let out a reluctant but agreeable mhm. She often dismissed her own mental health for the sake of her having to prove that she was strong enough or tough enough to handle her symptoms by herself. She knew it was futile to avoid her problems, but she was still working through accepting her post-trauma experience.

“Hey, you with me?” Steve nudged and squeezed at her waist again to capture her attention. Snapping her eyes from his chest to meet his, she nodded and affirmed. “I’m with you, Steve. I know. It takes time.”

Ellie knew. Of course she knew. And she knew that Steve knew because he still experiences his own episodes from time to time. Naturally, the Star Spangled Man with a plan was naturally more adaptive than she was and was able to practice his acceptance skills more easily. He still has his moments where he reverts back to the plane crash, feeling the cold water envelop his frozen body but conscious mind, or to witnessing Bucky fall to his death. Those were moments that she was there for him though. And she gladly gave just as much Steve gave today.

“Right. Do you have an appointment scheduled with Dr. Winsherr yet?” He prodded gently. He didn’t want to push her but he knew that in moments like this, therapy could offer her a space that maybe he couldn’t. 

She recognized his prying with a cheeky grin but appreciated him asking, nonetheless. “Yes, Mother Hen, I have it scheduled for next Friday.” Steve jokingly rolled his eyes at her quip and gave her one last squeeze on her hips before letting her go. Ellie also dropped her hands from his chest reluctantly, already missing his firm embrace. 

“Good. I’m glad. You know that all we want for you is to feel capable and to protect yourself. Those alerts happen for a reason, you know.” He continued on. Now she jokingly rolled her eyes and said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. The StarkWatch is there to protect others and myself, blah blah.” Echoing Tony’s earlier sentiment back to Steve.

“Protecting others means us too.” Steve caught and spoke firmly. “If anything happened to you, Red…” he paused and continued with a darker tint to his gaze, “I’m not sure what I would do.” Her eyes widened a bit at the sudden vulnerability. It’s not because he was saying that he was scared of her, or merely worried about his team’s safety. But, because he was scared to lose her. This was a first for the both of them, to be so honest about where they stand in regards to how important they were to each other. It was mostly shown through actions. But this was through actual words.

“ Steve…” That was all Ellie could breathe out. The roles reversed and now Steve flushed, almost as if he didn’t even catch what he said until he saw her reaction. “We would all be lost without you, Red. So just make sure that you take care of yourself, okay, can you do that for us?” For me, was underneath that request. 

Ellie noticed the shift of energy and desired to cling onto it for another second. Taking a risk, she replied, “I can do that, for you, Steve.” 

Steve’s breath now hitched slightly at her response. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. His eyes grew warmer as he looked down at her. It was quiet between them now. Until Steve reached out once more with his right hand to caress the very same cheek that he had just a moment ago. She met the movement with her own by leaning into his hand until he was able to cup her cheek completely. 

“You know that we’re going to have to talk about this sometime, El." Steve whispered with his face closer to hers. Their faces were so close that they could feel each other’s breath on their skin. 

“Talk about what?” She whispered back, mesmerized by his blue eyes, her gaze still on his as she felt his other arm go back around her waist to pull her body closer to his. She hooked her arm underneath his again to clutch onto the back of his shoulder. Her other arm went around his waist to anchor herself to him. Their embrace was so intimate that there was no mistaking the energy in the room shifting into something different. Something new. 

“You know what, Red.” Steve said with a knowing tone. His nose softly nuzzled her own as her eyes unconsciously drifted shut at the sultry tone of his words. His lips were so close to brushing hers. She could practically feel his lips on hers. Almost anticipating it. 

Of course, again, Ellie knew exactly what Steve was talking about. Their increased physical contact also initiated something new between the two Avengers. An intimacy. A romantic energy that was so charged that it made Ellie’s blood rush and pool to her heavy beating heart, and to other parts of her body that were just criminal. Her body ached with a charge that she knew only Steve would be able to satiate. 

It began six months ago when they returned from an intense mission. It was a particularly rough mission. Ellie had to use her powers, which was not worrisome of course. What was worrisome was that she had a harder time pulling back on this mission. 

Her abilities included being able to absorb, manipulate, and manifest fire. She could not only generate fire from her own body, but she could also smother them. However, the use of her powers always came with some cost.

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