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without taking away from any of the rest of this:
"Was then placed in solitary confinement for weeks. Something extremely damaging psychologically to be exposed to for even just a few days. Something usually reserved for cannibals." [bolding mine]
I understand the importance of making it clear how bad solitary confinement is (it is a torture method! it has psychological and physical impacts that can last decades! it also increases recidivism btw!), but this sits badly with me. Not because it's overplaying the situation with Mangione, but because it underplays how commonly and brutally solitary confinement is used.
According to the U.S. Department of Justice (FY 2022 report), 10% of all prisoners reported spending 30 days or more in solitary confinement during their sentence.
It is also used against migrants and prisoners showing signs of mental illness, as well as in many mental health facilities. It is, famously, a preferred method in counter-terrorism, with most subjects of that ALSO being held without charge or trial and with little to no evidence of guilt.
(and let's not pretend that the UK is better on this front. according to this report from last year, around a third of child offenders experience solitary, many reporting solitary confinement for as long as 80 days. and while we don't know the numbers for adults because the Home Office doesn't release them, they're not gonna be low.)
While it is right and fair for the treatment of Luigi Mangione to be a cause célèbre and a rallying point against the American justice system, that cannot be supported by making the norms of the American justice system seem less bad than they are.
This kind of brutal treatment of a prisoner without due process is not one unique case. This is standard practice in counter-terrorism, immigration detention, and the entire prison system. Mangione is quite likely getting the worst of it, because, you know... the politics. But bear in mind, they already HAD the torture chair and the solitary cell.
Don't let the carceral system off the hook for its regular human rights violations, just to emphasise specific ones.
So to catch you up to speed
Luigi Mangione is an innocent man who has not been confirmed to have been involved in any crime.
We have police documents confirming he was not DNA tested or fingerprinted, and confirmation no usable DNA or fingerprints were recovered at the crime scene due to incomplete prints and immense DNA contamination of New Yorks streets.
No evidence has linked him to the crime.
No facial recognition has even remotely come close to identifying the cctv suspects face as that of Luigi. His own family and friends do not see a resemblance. Most people agree the features in the cctv do not match the very well documented features of Luigi Mangione.
Luigi Mangione has no history of violence nor with firearms. He is a vegan pacifist with no history of mental illness and an aversion to killing even bugs.
He is still only a SUSPECT and all involvement in any crimes are merely ALLEGED at this time. Alleged by the most corrupt police force in the entire nation; the NYPD who do more organized crime than they've ever stopped.
Luigi Mangione's attorneys confirmed they have been shown absolutely nothing that even places Luigi at the scene of the crime.
People have repeatedly tried to recreate the entire timeline of events and found it is not physically possible to do what was alleged in the time frame police gave. Especially dubious for Luigi Mangione to have done given his recent, crippling back injury.
Luigi Mangione in his own words has said police planted evidence on him and are not being honest about his arrest or what he had on him at the time.
There is no body cam footage of Luigi's arrest.
There is no autopsy report for Brian Thompson.
Luigi has so far been:
Stripped of his hat, jacket and shoes and forced to walk in the cold in December wearing wet socks.
Forced to urinate on himself where police then took and published humiliation photos of him.
He was then stripped of his shirt pants and socks and put in a blue psychiatric gown and strapped to a chair inmates called "the torture chair" and left for prolonged periods of time. To the point the entire inmate population at the prison protested in anger.
He was slammed unto a brick wall, choked, and shoved by various police officers for no reason.
Was marched through nyc at gunpoint by officers with military firearms, forced to wear chains
Was called a murderer by the mayor of NYC on national television.
Was then placed in solitary confinement for weeks. Something extremely damaging psychologically to be exposed to for even just a few days. Something usually reserved for cannibals.
He is now being forced to sleep on the floor despite again, a crippling back injury.
Again, he has not even had trial yet. He is an innocent man by the very definition of the law. He has nothing tying him to any crime. And even the crime itself was a nobody being shot in a city where nobodies are shot everyday, seven days a week. And those shooters don't get this treatment. Cannibals don't get this treatment. Serial killers don't get this treatment. Why are they doing this? Because we entered an oligarchy and they want people who are rich to matter more than people who are not. The NO ONE, no name, insignificant person that Brian THOMPSON always was and WILL ALWAYS BE is more important because of his net worth, to the fascist oligarchy we've entered into, than the innocent man, data scientist and robotics engineer with a promising future that is Luigi Mangione.
The NYPD doesn't want him to be innocent. They are torturing him gleefully and postponing his trial because they know he's innocent. They just want to scare the public into understanding that the ultra rich, even those who's names will never be remembered as anything other than markings on a never visited tombstone, are the only persons who matter now. Not yours. Never yours. You're poor. They'll torture you without a trial too. Your life means nothing to them. Your children dying in school shootings means nothing to them. Pinning a crime on an innocent man they can beat to scare the public out of class consciousness is the only thing that matters to them now. Depose them.
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a night to remember Underneath the sheets, you enchanted me And whispered sweet nothings in my ear ‧₊˚🖇️ pairing: bottom male reader x secret one night stand ⤹warning: mister/sir kink ?, y/n being bratty,, soft/gentle sex, v vanilla, drunk reader, no condom D: (be safe aa), blowjob (receiving), fingering (receiving), door>table sex,,, aftercare!! always have aftercare ,, age gap(reader/y.n 21, one night stand 32) rlly rushed in general, not proof read, if this flop ill simply explode (ノ´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚ 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ word count: 3.3k
today was a shitty day. for y/n, at least, it started when his brand new shoes, in the worst color possibly, white- getting completely ruined when he stepped into dog’s poo. then, he checked his grades on his phone, only to see a big red F. on the class he needed to pass in order to graduate. the reason? one of his groupmate didnt do their part, even worse- they dont even attend the class! and now, because of that person, y/n wasnt going to graduate on time. y/n asked his other teammate who was the one that didnt do their part, he made sure to write down their name into his note app to (maybe) beat them up one day,, just when he thought his day couldnt get worse, he was on his way to his part time job before getting a text from his boyfriend. the message was short, a simple, “lets breakup.” he read the text over and over again, his boyfriend of 2 years- ending things without even a word of explanation, over text at that. y/n didnt go to his part time job that day, asking for a sick leave from his manager. his friends noticed that he looked down, then dragged him to a bar to distract him from whatever was in his head. shots. beer. loud music.. y/n drank everything his friend poured him as he listened to the other’s rant about how can his boyfriend just dump y/n like that. he just wanted to forget. after a few drinks in, feeling a little tipsy, y/n told his friends that hes gonna step out for a smoke and maybe fresh air. he leaned against the cold brick wall, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. ..its cold. maybe he shouldve borrowed his friend’s coat, He exhaled, watching the smoke curl up into the dark sky, when something warm and heavy draped over his shoulders. “??” he blinked, turning his head. Ah, this guy is handsome, he thought to himself, the stranger stood beside him, he looked like he's a few years older than y/n (maybe around his early 30s, he thinks.) , with messy dark hair, piercing black eyes and only wearing a black turtleneck with slacks. “youre shivering.” the man said, voice low and smooth, y/n glanced down at the coat, then back up at the man “‘m fine.” he slurred his words, swaying on his feet like hes gonna fall any moment. the guy huffed out a quiet laugh, “you sure?” “..’m not that drunk.” “mhm.”
“what are you? my mom?” the guy let out a breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “go back in, you’re gonna freeze.” “dont wanna.” “dont be stubborn.” he huffed. “I’m not-” y/n stopped, blinking, as the words caught up with him. “..you’re annoying.” on impulse, y/n yank him forward, grabbing the front of the guy’s collar, pulling him down his height and then his mouth was on his. it wasn’t graceful. hell, it wasn’t even all that romantic. just messy. sloppy. drunken. but the guy kissed back. like hes not going anywhere. y/n wasnt sure how theyd get from the bar to an apartment? or motel, he couldnt tell. the door clicked shut behind and he barely caught it before nearly tripping over if it werent for the other’s steadying him by the waist. “you alright?” the man murmured, before he could say anything, he was pushed against the door, the man covering the back of head with his hand, his back hitting the wood with a soft thud, and then the guy’s lips were on his before pulling away, “you talk too much.” y/n groaned, alcohol still buzzing through his system. he stared back at the stranger, before asking, “whats your name?”
the man paused for a second before tilting his head to the side, as if thinking what to say, he leaned in- just a little closer to touch his forehead with y/n’s,
“does it matter?” he murmured. y/n shouldve said yes, but instead, he pulled the stranger in for a kiss. before he could pull away, the guy already had his hands underneath y/n’s shirt, the sudden warmth against his cold skin sent an immediate jolt through him.
the man's lips left his for a brief second, the man's mouth moved to y/n’s neck, lips hot against his skin, sucking and biting just enough to leave a mark.
“m-mister..”
upon hearing this, the other raised an eyebrow, eyes flashing with amusement. “mister?” he repeated,
y/n only shrugged, before tugging at the man’s shirt once again, as if wanting it off. “mm.”
the man’s hands slid lower, teasing the waistband of his pants, then pulling him closer again, grinding against him in a way that made y/n gasp.
y/n’s hands, impatient and shaky, pushed at the other’s shirt again. “off,” he mumbled, tugging at it.
“eager much?” the man dropped onto his knees, taking off his own shirt before throwing it somewhere in the room.
y/n's breath hitched when the man dropped to his knee, staring politely at the other’s body.
hands firm on his thighs, pressing them apart just enough to show the man his hardening weewee, his fingers tugged at y/n’s waistband once again, tugging it off along with his boxer.
y/n face flushed, his member standing proudly, feeling shy, he meekly hid his crotch from the other man.
“perv.”
the man laugh, before forcefully pulling apart y/n’s thigh. he lightly caresses y/n’s inner thigh, while his other hand strokes the younger’s member,
y/n let out a whine when the man swallowed his length in one go, he immediately covered his mouth with both his palm, stifling any whines that would come out.
gently, he started bobbing his head up and down while grabbing a small bottle of lube from his pocket pants.
y/n noticed the lube, it was almost sweet, like he was handling something fragile. he let out a breathless laugh, “hah, you were really prepared for this?” he murmured, eyes half lidded as the man continued on sucking him and pours the lube into his hand. “i guess you really are a perv.”
the man sighed around y/n’s length, he brought up his hand towards the younger’s entrance, teasingly circling two of his fingers around it.
y/n shivered at the cold feeling against his rim, he was starting to get impatient, “just—” his words suddenly cut off into a whine as the tip of the man’s fingers slid in.
the older of the two hummed, sending vibrations to y/n’s member. he let out another whine when the man curled his fingers, pressing against a spot that had y/n arching his back,
y/n lightly hits the man’s shoulder when he pulled off his member, giving it a small kiss on the leaking tip,
with his head thrown towards the door, y/n covered his mouth with his palm once again, hoping nobody can hear them outside the door. flush spread around his chest, barely hidden from his low neck hoodie.
“feeling shy now?” the older teased, rising from his knees, he grabbed one of y/n’s thigh and hooked it around his waist, fingers still pressed deep onto that one spot, twisting his finger just to hear y/n sigh.
y/n scoffed, hiding his face in the man’s shoulder before letting out a muffled moan, his hand never stopped massaging y/n’s prostate.
when the man pulled his finger out, the younger one let out a huff as if in annoyance, before he could let out another snarky remark, he felt something stiff and warm under him.
glancing down, he noticed the man’s breath growing heavier and heavier, he moved his hips, the tip of his.. weapon? prodding against y/n’s hole.
he paused at the sight ‘thats going in me?’ was the only thing he could think at the moment, the man noticed y/n’s stare, nuzzling into the younger’s shoulder, “im getting impatient.” he murmured, his voice low and raspy as he gripped onto y/n’s waist.
“really?” y/n laughed, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck so he doesnt fall. the man’s breath hitched, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips,
“yeah,”
the man lines himself up against y/n’s, him kindly enough had poured a generous amount onto his length, before slowly pushing himself in.
y/n yelped, while he did have experience, its been a while he had taken anything like the man’s size.
he took his time, moving slowly, one of his hand gripping y/n’s leg, one gentle hand strokes y/n’s back, circling around his back, his movement slow, as if he werent going anywhere.
pressing a soft skin to y/n’s neck, he slowly pushes his length inside inch by inch, taking note of how y/n whine or gasps.
the man grunted when he finally fit his entire length in that tight warmth, he noticed how quiet y/n have been (besides letting out a few whines here and there), concerned, he placed y/n on the nearby table.
he pulled back just enough to check on him, “still with me?” he muttered, brushing a hand though y/n’s hair, though, all he got was a, “mhmm..”
y/n’s face was still buried in his neck, his lips parted slightly as he lets out small, breathless whine, his arms still hung around the man’s shoulder,
the man let out a low curse, yet he gently cupped y/n’s jaw to take a look at his face-, y/n’s eyes were half-lidded, unfocused and dazed (?)
he was about to pull out, thinking maybe the alcohol had made y/n tired, he can just jerk himself off later.. but before he could, he felt something wrapped around his waist, as if not wanting him to go,
“mister..” y/n, still clearly out of it, voice was barely above a whisper surprising the older, “whyd you stop?”
the mans heart skipped a beat, something about y/n’s expression, how his face flushed and how y/n wrapped his legs around the man so he wouldnt go.
he let out a small smile, clearly caught off guard yet amused, the younger one could be so cute when hes isnt letting out sarcastic remarks— but even if he does, the man wouldve still found it cute anyway. “i told you,” he chuckled softly, “im not going anywhere.”
the man chuckled again, he cupped y/n’s face gently, tilting his head to meet his gaze, “i-”
“stop talking and keep moving.” y/n muttered, giving the man a lazy smile.
oh..
slightly amused, the man let out a laugh, his fingers brushing against y/n’s cheek almost tenderly. “alright.”
y/n didnt want to wait, he clenched onto the man’s length, making the older groan.
the man shook his head, “impatient,” he said, his voice soft making something tingle inside y/n’s stomach.
y/n whined when he felt the man pulling away, he was ready to snap something snarky, but his words got cut off into a moan when the other suddenly thrusted into him,
y/n let out a soft, startled gasp as the man’s hands found their way back to his waist, pulling him flush against him, the tip of his member directly pressed against the bundle of nerves inside of him.
the man occasionally lets a low grunt, his hands moving to hike up y/n’s hoodie just enough to see his abdomen and chest, he leans down, his lips ghosting over his skin before nipping at one of y/n’s perked up nipples.
the younger inhaled sharply, the soft whimper that escaped his throat betraying him. his face flushed, trying to bite his lips to hold back another whimper when the man continued his pace.
y/n couldnt help but arch his back whenever the man pulled out so slightly, then bottomed inside him in one go— or the way his hips instinctively move by itself whenever the man pulls away.
y/n’s eyes snapped open just in time to catch the soft smile tugging at the man’s lips. before y/n could protest, he was pulled into a kiss—soft, but deep, silencing the whimpers and desperate gasps that were about to spill from his lips.
he couldnt help but melt into the kiss,, muffling any moans that would leak out whenever the man’s length grazes his prostate.
he relaxes under the man’s touch, hands moving from the older’s shoulder to his back, scratching slightly at his skin.
each movement from the older man was slow, yet y/n felt like he could feel his length in him so deep. pushing y/n closer to edge, he pulled himself away from the man to catch his own breathe,
“fuck-” y/n gasped, his insides tightened, making the man above him grunt. his back arched again, clinging onto the man on top of him, hands desperately gripping the man’s shoulder.
“im gonna..” he squeezes his eyes shut. “M-mister!”
his body tensed up, his eyes slightly rolling back to his skull. thick, white ropes fell onto his own abdomen, some even getting to the man’s body.
the man slowed down for a second, his lips curling into a small smile, he watch y/n’s face contort into pleasure before leaning down to kiss him again.
“you did so well.” he murmured.
y/n, still dazed, only hummed in response.
the man wished he had the stamina to keep going, the sight of y/n in his arms and the noises he makes whenever he moves are just so addicting.
his movements grows erratic, he felt himself throbbing inside of y/n, his grip tightening around y/n, enough to leave a bruise.
his hips stuttered, a deep groan escaping his throat as he buried his face into the younger’s neck. just before he was about to climax, he pulled out and jerked himself off. spilling his come all over y/n’s stomach.
and for once, y/n forgets everything around him, the break up, the bad day he was having,, and the fact he doesnt even knows the name of the man he just spent the night with.
but it doesnt matter, right?
while he felt himself drifting into sleep, he was carefully carried to the bathroom, he felt his hoodie being taken off and before he knew it, the man had gently put him in a bathtub filled with warm water. by the time the man had finished bathing him, he was already half asleep. he was tucked in into the bed, the man climbed into the cover with him, “are you really not gonna tell me your name..?” y/n murmured, too tired to care anymore, but still slightly curious. the man simply laughed, his voice sending butterflies to y/n’s stomach, his hand gently brushing through y/n’s hair. “maybe later.” y/n hummed one last time, before drifting into a well needed sleep. the next morning, y/n woke up with a headache that felt like a hammer to his skull, his body ache from the waist down- though not in a bad way, enough to remember what had happened last night.
he looked around the room, noticing theres nobody else but him. next to the bed was the nightstand, his half lidded eyes landed on whats on top.
a bottle of hangover medicine and an energy drink.
huh, how nice.
so the guy, whoever he was, hadnt left him butt naked and was nice enough to actually give him a bath and dress him up.
y/n exhaled, running a hand through his hair and dragged himself out of the bed,
theres no sign of the man last night, no note, no nothing.
maybe that was the best decision, at least y/n doesnt have to see him again.
with a huff, y/n took the hangover medicine and drinks it in one go, then grabbed his bag (making sure he still have his personal items..) and left.
the motel was coincidentally near his dorm apartment, letting y/n have just enough time to change his clothes from last night, making sure to bring a coat before heading out. (hed rather be caught dead than wearing the same clothes from yesterday ;; )
eventually, with enough convincing from himself, he hauled himself to his university. his friends were already waiting for him, one of them raising an eyebrow at him and his appearance, “you look like hell.” “thanks,” y/n muttered, having no energy to even fight back, sipping his coffee as him and his friends trudged to class. on the way to class, his friends were talking about a rumor, something he have no interest in unless its about him, “have you heard about the new TA?” one of his friend asked, poking y/n from the side for a reaction, y/n only grunted in response, barely paying attention to their conversation (& nearly walking into a pole if his friends didnt tug him aside with his bag.) “they say hes young,” another chimed in, “and apparently hes hot.” y/n only hummed, almost falling into a bush if it werent for his friends pulled him by the collar of his coat. “so?” someone scoffed, do y/n even know him..? maybe hes a friend of another friend. “he probably has those “im better than you.” mindset being so young.” ..whatever he said immediately went into y/n’s left ear and left from the right ear. when they finally reached their class, they sat in their usual place in the middle, all of them still talking except for y/n— whose mind kept drifting to last night, the warm hand, soft kisses, the aftercare.. “dude you’re zoning out again.” his friend lightly waved his hands in front of y/n, finally snapping him out of it. “ugh,” y/n groaned, “and whose idea was it to go to that bar yesterday-” before he could say anything else, the door clicked open, the room immediately went silent as footsteps echoed against the floor, some of the students instantly murmured about the person who had just entered the room, some complimenting their look, some talking about some rumors. y/n looked up from the table, eyes widened at who was standing in front of the lecture hall. the same man from last night? dressed in a crisp shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking the same as he had when y/n last saw him. he nearly ran out of the hall, but he needed that attendance. “good morning, everybody.” he greeted smoothly, the same deep voice that y/n heard last night. “ill be your TA for this semester.” you gotta be kidding me he screamed internally, panic shot through his veins, y/n yanked his hood up, tugging it so low it nearly covered his eyes, his friends, thinking hes having another episode, just shrugged it off and continued talking. he slumped forwards, elbows against the desk,, trying to hide himself. please don’t recognize me. please don’t recognize me. he glanced up again, trying to take a peek at the man in front to make sure hes not going coo coo crazy— but to his dismay, the same man from last night- now his TA was staring directly at him, smiling as if they were best friends. y/n froze, his brain short circuited, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as if on cue, the man introduced himself to the class once again. “you can call me Seo Seungjae.”
y/n nearly choked.
a/n hooo leee sheet i finished this. hooe lle sheet. smut took me,, 4 hours. aha. stared at my google docs like a madman whenever i typed something since id get distracted to something else TT ( ´ ω ` ) hopefully you guys enjoyed this ;; based on a real story of mine? harhar (excluding the TA part,) but i actually loved writing this,, i liked y/n and oc's dynamic here,! if anyone else liked this character,, ill probably write a second part ; i recently updated my carrd! feel free to check it out at the description,, my inbox r open as well ^^ goodnight everyone!! mwa
#mayi'swriting—#mayi'scharacter—#male reader#bottom male reader#bttm male reader#sub male reader#x male reader#oc x male reader#male x male#male x reader#dom character#male reader insert
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Kindling the Flame
pairing: Eris x reader
word count: 1.3k
warnings: pregnancy, vomiting, Eris is scared but nothing happens
all acotar credits belong to sjm
a/n: yay! i’m back from the dead. not super proud of this one but it was one of my few wips that were close to being finished when i decided to get back to it. i’d been going through some adhd paralysis and health issues but hopefully i’ll be back to normal soon.
Eris Vanserra paced the length of the room, his boots whispering across the hardwood floor of your shared bedroom. His face, usually calm and composed, was marred with worry. His gaze darted back to you, lying on the bed with a damp cloth pressed to your forehead, your skin pale and clammy.
"Love," he murmured, his voice a soft, worried rumble as he knelt beside the bed. "You need to eat something. Just a little. Please."
You shook your head, the mere thought of food sending another wave of nausea rolling through you. "I can't, Eris," you whispered, voice strained and tired. "Everything makes me sick."
Eris’ jaw clenched, his mate instincts screaming at him to protect you, to make this better somehow. Yet, he was helpless against this invisible force causing you so much distress. He brushed a few stray sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face, his fingers gentle as they lingered on your skin.
He had never felt this powerless. His magic could command flames, and his influence could sway an entire Court, but he could do nothing against this. This cruel twist of fate that left you so ill, so fragile. A dream of having a child together had become his current nightmare. The little fireling was sucking everything out of you, and as the days passed it was getting harder to get anything in you. A mix of wonder and dread filled his chest. He was thrilled to become a father, to hold your baby in his arms, but this? Watching you suffer, unable to do a thing? Watch as the life drains out of you, as your cheeks hollow out, and the joy that once filled your eyes is replaced with fear? It was unbearable.
He tried to reflect on his mother’s pregnancies. So many centuries ago now but he could remember them briefly. Perses, and the twins, August and Aethon, had been easy for Phoebe in the beginning. She claimed to have not had many symptoms until the third trimester. With Killian and Macareus she had some slight hiccups, nausea in the beginning being one of them. He nearly thought of her pregnancy with Lucien and quickly slammed the door of his mind on that thought. It was the one pregnancy Phoebe had struggled with during labor, thanks to his cruel father. His mate did not need those stress-inducing memories, she needed to eat.
"I’ll try some tea," he suggested, forcing calm into his voice even as his heart raced. "Ginger, maybe. It might help settle your stomach and then we’ll go from there."
You nodded weakly, knowing he was trying his best. "Alright," you murmured, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaving the room.
In the kitchen, Eris moved swiftly, hands shaking slightly as he prepared the tea. He felt a rush of frustration that he couldn't simply snap his fingers and make you better. He wanted to burn away your sickness with his flames, to destroy whatever was causing you pain, but he couldn't. This was your pregnancy, your body nurturing the tiny life within you. He had to be patient. You’ve barely entered the second trimester and it already felt like he was close to losing you. After witnessing the birth of his six siblings he knew this was supposed to be the least dangerous part. Sure, not being able to eat certain foods anymore and lighting cinnamon candles all around the house to block out the less-than-savory scents was expected. He had hoped you would get some relief by the second semester as his mother had, calling it the eye of the storm, but your condition has only worsened over time. What was once a short list of foods to avoid has become endless, your nights are sleepless as you toss and turn with insomnia, and the way your emotions changed throughout the day reminded him of the money scale sitting on the desk in his office.
Returning to the bedroom, he found you curled up tighter on the bed, your face pinched with discomfort. "Here, my flame," he coaxed, sitting beside you and helping you sit up, holding the teacup to your lips. "Try a few sips."
You took a tentative sip, grimacing slightly at the taste but managing to swallow. Eris’ hand moved to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles there. "That’s it," he encouraged softly. "A little more."
The tea felt warm going down, and you managed a few more sips before the nausea surged again. Eris' face fell as he saw you press a hand to your mouth, trying to fight it down.
“I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling tears prick at your eyes as you leaned over the side of the bed. He was immediately there, grabbing the small trashcan on the floor and holding your hair back, murmuring reassurances even as he felt a stab of panic shoot through him.
"Don't apologize, love," he murmured once the wave had passed, wiping your mouth gently with a damp cloth. "None of this is your fault."
"But I know it worries you," you whispered, voice small and fragile. "I don’t want to cause you pain."
Eris’ chest tightened. “You don’t. Not in the way you think,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “I just… I hate that I can’t make it better. That I can’t take this from you. I’m so afraid of losing you, and I don’t like seeing you suffer.”
You reached out, your hand finding his, squeezing it with whatever strength you had left. "I’m okay," you assured him, even though you both knew it wasn’t entirely true. "It’s worth it. For our baby."
His heart softened at your words, his free hand moving to your stomach, resting there gently. “Our baby,” he echoed, a faint smile on his lips. “I know. And I’m excited, love, more than you know. But if anything happened to you…” He trailed off, the fear evident in his amber eyes.
You leaned into his touch, letting his warmth seep into your skin. “Nothing will happen,” you whispered, but your voice was tired and not as confident as you’d hoped. “I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”
Eris nodded, though the tightness in his chest didn’t fully ease. He pulled you closer, cradling you against him as if he could shield you from the sickness. “Let me try making some broth,” he offered, his voice determined. “Just a little. It’s light, and it might stay down.”
You nodded, too tired to argue, and he pressed a kiss to your temple before reluctantly pulling away again. He busied himself in the kitchen, channeling his worry into careful preparation, pouring all his love and care into the simple task.
When he returned with the steaming bowl, he sat on the edge of the bed, lifting the spoon to your lips. “Just a sip,” he encouraged gently. “For me?”
You smiled faintly and took the spoonful, managing to swallow. The warmth of the broth spread through you, soothing the ache in your empty stomach, and you nodded for another. Eris’ heart lifted slightly, his hope rekindled.
“Good,” he praised softly, his fingers brushing your cheek. “Take your time.”
You took a few more sips before the nausea started to build again, and Eris quickly set the bowl aside, ready to help you if needed. But this time, the sickness didn’t overwhelm you, and you managed to take a deep breath, leaning back against the pillows.
“See?” he murmured, a small, proud smile on his lips. “You’re stronger than this, my love. We’ll get through it together.”
You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed, exhaustion pulling at you. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank you, Eris. For everything.”
He pressed another kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with love for you. “Always,” he promised softly. “I’ll always be here.”
And as you drifted off to sleep, he stayed by your side, his hand resting protectively over your stomach, his heart full of determination. Whatever it took, he would see you through this. You were his mate, his love, and nothing would stand in his way.
#acotar#acotar fic#acotar fandom#eris x y/n#eris vandaddy#eris vanserra imagine#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#eris x reader
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sooooo....sub!vi and sub!reader tribbing.
nsfw. fem!reader. lesbian sex. tribbing ofc. inspired by one of the first nsfwtwt accounts i encountered 5 years ago...ill never forget you </3 wc: 905.
at first glance, every woman vi approached thought she was a dom. in a way she could understand it, she was muscular and tall and had every other stereotypical dominant top butch feature that had femmes falling at her feet begging for a chance for her to strap them until they saw stars.
while she was always flattered, there was an uneasy feeling whenever she was commanding a girl in bed, a nagging in the back of her head that she just couldn't shake. she figured it was just her brain catching up to the fact that she had become incredibly desirable to so many people so quickly, that after a few more girls in her bed, she’d settle into a good rhythm
until she met you.
after a few shared drinks at her favorite bar and a sloppy make out in the back of a taxi, she’s got your pretty form pushed down onto her bed, sheets ruffled and both of your jackets thrown to the ground as your form writhes beneath her, your body so, so pliant for her. but that nagging feeling is coming back with a vengeance, and before she can stop herself she’s pulling off of your body with a groan and flopping into her pillows face first.
she muffles a somber apology, words barely legible through the soft fabric, telling you that she’ll pay for your uber home and that she is really sorry for getting your hopes up. she expects to hear you scoff and get up with a huff, to hear the rustling of you putting on your clothes before the slam of her door. but instead, it's quiet, the only sound reverberating through the room is your shared heavy breathing and the faint sound of crickets in the night.
she slightly jerks when she feels your hand graze her shoulder, so incredibly gentle as you tug on her so she turns onto her back, eyes locking onto yours. your face is…calm, understanding almost.
“is everything okay? do you want to just…talk about it?”
and maybe it's your delicate look and touch, the tone of your voice, and genuine inquiry about what she’s truly feeling instead of being mad at your ruined night, but she lets every little bottled-up emotion that's been building up for the past few weeks go.
and you understand her problem completely.
“im sorry you felt like you had to hold all of that in. if you want,I know a few ways we could help with your problem.”
her eyes widened and face flushed at the prospect. “you mean that you - you would?”
“wish I could, but i’ve never been very good at it. but there are other things we could do. together.”
and it's in moments like these, where after a long day of work she gets to come home, relax, and lose herself in pleasure with you in front of her, that she’s so grateful you helped her find this part of herself.
there isn't an inch of space between you, your shared borderline possessive embraces and the tightly connected collars around both of your necks ensuring so. she doesn't even want to (or can, at this point) think about how desperate she must have looked when you raised the surprise up to her gaze earlier, how she had shown no hesitation in attaching it around her neck before dragging you to your shared bed to get her hands on you and yours on her.
she’s brought out of her thoughts when a punctured cry is torn from her throat, the friction of your clits brushing and grinding together sending a burst of sharp pleasure up from her cunt into the rest of her body. it amplifies the heat already surrounding the both of you, a thin sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies from the strain of rubbing against each other for…for who knows how long at this point.
but it doesn't matter, she’d risk the chance of passing out if it meant she got to feel like this for even a few more seconds.
neither of you can speak, only shrill whimpers and endless moans bouncing off of the walls. luckily you seem to have maybe a few more brain cells active at the moment, aware of the impending fifth noise complaint, taking initiative, and pushing your heads together to lock your lips in a sloppy kiss.
and god, everything is just too much. the friction of your slick cunts meeting in a rabid frenzy, both of your hands scratching at each other backs and breasts, and the mushing of your tongues leading to drool dripping down your faces only catapults her into a mind-breaking orgasm, back arching and arms holding your body even closer to hers as she feels you both gush against each other.
and once your highs finally die down, you both take care of each other. the collars are taken off, and giggles are shared when you both stand up to wobbly legs to clean each other up in the bathroom. and it's in moments like these, where you're sitting across from each other in the tub, rubbing fruity-smelling suds over each other's bodies and sharking sweet kisses and praises, that she really, really loves being a sub.
#pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease#donttt expect more sub stuff from me this happens once every 14 ovulati0ns#arcane#arcane x reader#vi x reader#vi#vi arcane#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#vi arcane x reader#vi smut
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the difference between simon and ghost are within their voices, their mannerisms, and mainly, their eyes..
simon had originally met you at some coffee shop, eyes locking onto yours occasionally and he had eventually gotten his liquid courage to get over to the counter to make some corny military jokes, but he felt in a gaze.
he was your big and gentle boyfriend, brown hair with somewhat lonely eyes that gleaned when you were around, his heart dripping with warmth and love that you finally lived together after maybe three years of dating. only to have you use him, sexually of course.
he felt he could break you in a full nelson, or bruise your tailbone in a mating or doggystyle position, but going mad when you rode him to nothing. or when you would grind your velvety clit along his hairy stomach or happy trail.
“youre absolutely sure you feel comfortable with this, love?” the deep soft growl of his british voice rumbled in your ears, the shower water flowing down and your thick strands soaking up all the water. “i could even break you, you know how small you are?” a chuckle of his lips pressing kisses to your wet skin, hands cupping your breasts from behind.
“im sure, simon.” you chuckle, hands sliding down to your hips and gripping. a shower together? could save your water bill.
but ghost? he was meaner, a true lieutenant at heart.
he knew in the back of his mind that you knew simon had the hands that could break your neck at any given time, but found balance in how to wrap his fingers around to make you see stars.
he also knew that you knew when he was deployed, he had eyes and ears everywhere. sometimes he called you just to ‘check in,’ but was staring right at your figure whilst you were turned away.
you could barely see his eyes when he came back and it wasnt simon, the feeling of his gloved hands and darker eyes bored into you— always. “thought i told you to lock your doors bet’r, yeah?” he asked, one hand around your throat, another massaging a tit.
he often gets tired of repeating himself about you being safe.
“forgot, love. its been a day.” you sink into him, muscles relaxing and you do in-fact see stars when he chokes and kisses. “i know i told you i did-“
“guess ill have to work with you on that.” he grumbled, a pinch at your pierced nipple soft and you were all squeals. “dont let me catch you lyin’ again.” he warned, a chuckle with a lift of his madk to his nose to kiss your cheek.
“down you go,” he clicks his tongue twice, watching you go to your knees. “there you are, my good girl.”
#call of duty#modern warefare ii#modern warfare#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost cod#simon riley x black reader#ghost x black! reader#gamblersdoll
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Genderfluid person and would be fine with it. My stepmom is the person who helped me be okay with it.
My stepmom got diagnosed with breast cancer in 2016. Back in 2016 I still identified as a woman and I was very attached to my long hair (it was probably down to my butt at that point). Well of course when my stepmom started chemo her hair started falling out, and I saw how upset she was about it. She got to the point where she asked my dad to shave her head for her, not all the way bald, mind you, more into a crew cut style just so all the hair that was falling out wasn't super long big clumps.
And my dad is. Well. I don't know why my stepmom is still married to him and I don't know why he's not in prison for events of my childhood let's just describe his personality that way.
So he's buzzing her head and he tells her he has a surprise for her. And my younger sister and I watch in horror as my father proceeds to change the head of the razor for a closer cut and shave a horseshoe into the top of my stepmom's head (she's an Indianapolis Colts fan). She was mortified when we started yelling and telling him to stop and she realized what he was doing but the damage was already done. He tried to laugh it off and say her hair was gonna fall out anyway so what did it matter if they did silly things with it. Then when that bothered her more he tried to shave the horseshoe into a heart and tell her he loved her but then of course she had an even larger bald spot on her head, and at that point, through tears, she just told my dad to shave her head completely.
So as much as my stepmom tried to make becoming bald her decision (because it was inevitable because of the chemo), that little bit of control she had over it was taken by my dad, and I remember how much that hurt her. I remember my stepmom trying out different wigs and bandanas and hats. She'd wear them whenever she left the house. In the early days, she's even put on a hoodie or hat just to go get the mail from the mailbox. She was embarrassed of her baldness (she told me that, wanna make that clear, I'm not just assuming her feelings). She even wore them around me and my siblings for the first week or two after my dad shaved her head.
I always felt really bad because I thought my stepmom was pretty before her head was shaved, and while I definitely wasn't used to seeing her bald or with a wig, I didn't think it made her look bad either. Honestly nowadays it's weird to imagine my stepmom with hair because she's been bald for so many years now lol.
But I remember one night after dinner that kinda changed things. My dad and stepmom's house was open concept, so you could look out over the kitchen island right into the dining room and on the back dining room wall were these huge windows that looked out on the back deck.
My stepmom was standing at the kitchen sink, at that island, washing the dishes and I'm clearing the table. We're having a conversation about something or other, I don't really remember what, but what I do remember is getting cut off suddenly because my stepmom looks up from the sink towards where I'm standing in the dining room during the conversation and very suddenly gets startled, gasps, and then doubles over laughing. She was cackling in a way where I couldn't help but laugh myself even though I didn't know what was so funny.
I asked her what was so funny, and when she was finally able to catch her breath she told me that she thought she saw some random weird old guy standing on the porch but it was just her reflection in the window and it was so ridiculous that she couldn't help but laugh.
It was kind of from that point on that my stepmom became a lot more comfortable with her baldness. I gained a lot of respect for her in that moment and a lot of clarity about my own life. I think that was the first time in my life that someone had shown me it was okay to laugh about your own illness/disability. I'd had other people, even family members and people I thought were friends, laugh at my disabilities. And my mom (who primarily had custody of me and my siblings) kinda always freaked out about any self-depricating humor or humor that otherwise played up our disabilities so they weren't jokes I grew up feeling comfortable making (for fear of setting off my mom, not because I personally wasn't comfortable). But it was my stepmom who showed me there are ways to be silly and stupid about my disabilities and to laugh them off and not be so serious about them so they don't have to drown me every moment of the day, even when the physical aspects meet me every time I look in the mirror.
And like I said, it's hard to imagine my stepmom not being bald now. And because of her I don't think I'd be too worried about it because I think even if I didn't like it at first I could learn to laugh about it.
(I actually came pretty close to shaving my head last year. I keep the sides/back of my head shaved with it longer on top, and I officially decided to do that because of my shoulder injury and how much trouble I was having brushing my hair and keeping it out of my face on windy days on campus, but I almost considered getting a fully shave. I've just kept the style I got for ease because I ended up also liking it for gender reasons!)
We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.
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https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/774212277059682304/httpswwwtumblrcomdearweirdme7742039285407416
“Serves them right for being idiots” then proceeds to make the most idiotic write up of all time. The fact that anyone can have a smart phone and internet these days to spew nonsense online is beyond me.
Hi anon,
There was a time when I used to think this was the most sensible Taekook blogger on Tumblr, but over time, my opinion began to shift. I haven’t seen a single insightful post from this blogger since AYS was announced. I used to frequent Taekook blogs because it was fun to read other people’s perspectives, but eventually, I stopped visiting their spaces because I felt like I was losing brain cells after every visit.
This particular blogger frustrates me because it’s evident they truly believe they are wise or introspective, when, in reality, they are just as misguided as any other Taekooker. I won’t go into detail about the differences between Taekook and Jikook, nor the clear evidence of who is closer, as I’ve already done that in a lengthy post in the past. You can read it here…
Instead, today I want to address a few things that Taekookers, and some Jikookers as well, still fail to understand, not only about the bond between Jikook and Taekook, but also about human relationships in general.
Let’s begin with the fact that this blogger claims the Jikook ship was created by BigHit. Not only is this the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever read, but it’s also a pathetic excuse for why another pairing gained recognition. Let’s not even mention that this blogger has only been in the fandom for a short time and probably caught up on content through YouTube edits, (you can tell they’re the type to fall for YouTube edits because they cite them as references), TikTok, and various conspiracy theories from bitter Taekookers trying to explain away the connection they see between Jimin and Jungkook. This person hasn’t been around long enough to form such strong opinions about the past, yet they act as though they lived through it all personally. Not saying one couldn’t be informed about a past they didn’t experience but we all know living through something is different from getting information about it second hand.
How exactly did BigHit create the Jikook ship when the primary reason for its popularity is the GCF Jungkook posted in November 2017? That video, which Jungkook made after a trip with Jimin to Japan, was not related to work. In fact, Jungkook explicitly stated that the trip and by extension, the GCF, was not work-related in any way. How could BigHit have created the ship when nearly every major Jikook moment came from Jungkook himself? If you were to ask any Jikooker on the street why they started shipping Jikook, you’d hear about things like the GCF, MMA 2018, the Rose Bowl, Hickeygate, etc. Not a single one would mention anything related to the company, and notice how all of these key moments were initiated by Jungkook?
This blogger also goes on to say that Jimin leans into fanservice more because he wants to please the company and the fans. I find it hard to understand how this isn’t anti behavior, especially since this blog claims it doesn’t harbor any ill feelings toward Jimin. Implying that Jimin lives his entire life to cater to fans and a corporation while disregarding the feelings of his friends is such an anti move especially because Jungkook himself describes Jimin as thoughtful and selfless. I doubt he would see Jimin this way if Jimin constantly disregarded his feelings and focused more on pleading fans and a money hungry coorperation.
The reason I mentioned that Jungkook initiates most of the interactions that Jikookers find significant is because Taekookers often argue that Jimin leans more into “fanservice” than Jungkook does and that Jungkook sometimes seems hesitant to engage due to his consideration for Taehyung. However, it doesn’t seem to me that Jungkook was particularly concerned about Taehyung when he singlehandedly kickstarted the ship with his GCF. He certainly didn’t seem worried about Taehyung during MMA 2018, or when he openly shared that his “bro” Jimin had bitten him on the neck while tipsy after a late-night drink knowing exactly how shippers would react. It doesn’t appear that he had Taehyung in mind when he revealed that he showers and sings with Jimin in the military fully aware of how fans might react to that information. By now, we have to assume that all the members are aware of what fans do, and Jungkook must know about both Jikookers and Taekookers. If he were truly concerned about Taehyung’s feelings regarding his “fanservice” with Jimin, I highly doubt he would have invited himself to shower at Jimin’s during a live, fully aware of how fans would interpret that.
This blogger seems to forget that it was thanks to Jimin that Jikookers didn’t have more moments to celebrate in chapter two of their bond. It was Jungkook who kept the ship alive during that time. If it had been up to Jungkook, we would have had many more moments to highlight. He was the one going live multiple times, talking about Jimin, watching and singing his songs. If Jimin had accepted when Jungkook invited him over for chicken and beer, we would have had a Jikook moment. If Jimin had shown up when Jungkook extended an open invite to any member to join him, we would have had a Jikook moment. If Jimin had agreed when Jungkook asked to come over, do a live, and shower at his place, we would have had countless moments to talk about for years. But alas, none of these things happened because of Jimin. Yet, somehow, he’s the one being accused of leaning more into “fanservice”?
These newer fans are incredibly fortunate to have encountered a quieter version of Jimin. If they had been around pre-2020, and witnessed how unapologetically vocal Jimin was about Jungkook, they would have disliked him (well, they dislike him now, but they wouldn’t have been able to hide it as they do now). They are lucky that they came in during a time when Jimin has become more reserved. If Jimin really wanted to cater to shippers he wouldn’t have said “no” when asked if he had eaten Jungkook’s ramen yet. He would have gone to Inkigayo just to give shippers something to talk about. He could have easily gone to Jungkook’s house anytime and taken photos, posted them, or even shared a video from when he spent the night with him before Jeju. He never lacked invitations from Jungkook; in fact, Jungkook asked him over multiple times. The only reason we didn’t see those moments was because of Jimin.
They claim Jungkook holds back because he’s concerned about Taehyung, but I didn’t see him thinking about Taehyung when he cuddled into Jimin’s lap and slapped his butt in AYS. The funniest part is, in AYS, Jungkook initiated more physical contact with Jimin than Jimin did. Nearly every time Jimin initiated anything, it was usually playful, but it was Jungkook who woke up and cuddled into Jimin, touched Jimin to look for mosquito bites, who “caressed Jimin’s smooth legs on the yacht”, who leaned on Jimin’s shoulder during the train ride. It was Jungkook who constantly talked about how much he loved the trip, describing it as the best trips of his life. Most of the significant Jikook moments from AYS were once again initiated by Jungkook, but Taekookers ignore these and magnify moments when Jungkook playfully pushes or shoves Jimin away when he’s being mischievous, claiming that it’s him setting boundaries. If he were really setting boundaries, he wouldn’t have cuddled into Jimin’s lap and slapped his ass. If he were setting boundaries, he wouldn’t have leaned on Jimin’s shoulder during the train ride. If he were really worried about Taehyung, he wouldn’t have told us that the trips with Jimin were the best trips of his life, especially after taking “private” trip with Taehyung. That’s insulting. So, I fail to see how Jimin is the one who leans more into “fanservice” when many Jikookers are still here today thanks to Jungkook.
This blogger’s concept of closeness is truly amusing and highlights their ignorance. According to them, Jimin seems closer to Taehyung simply because he called him a few times in chapter two. Wouldn’t it be nice if life were that simple and linear? Wouldn’t it be easier and less complicated if relationships were so black and white? This blogger claims that the things they’ve said themselves prove who is closer among the three, but I fail to see how Taehyung and Jungkook talking about not having deep conversations or feeling awkward with each other proves how close they are. I don’t understand how Taehyung saying that he only learned about Jikook’s trip through the group chat shows how close they are. How does Taehyung not knowing Jungkook was filming a show with Jimin demonstrate their closeness? And how does Taehyung not knowing Jimin spent the night at Jungkook’s before Jeju prove that they’re close? Mind you taekookers believe that everytime Jk was on his phone in AYS he was talking with Tae and they also believe that Taekook FaceTime a lot but my question is, what do they talk about on this numerous calls if Tae keeps finding out about Jungkook’s schedules from a group chat and not from Jungkook himself? If anything, these examples illustrate exactly how Taekook’s friendship and bond truly are.
Human relationships are fluid, multifaceted, and complex. Closeness and distance are influenced by factors like mental state, career shifts, personal growth, emotional needs, stress, and misunderstandings. It’s important to remember that a single period of time doesn’t define the entirety of a relationship, but it can reflect specific phases, changes, or circumstances that affect how people interact.
The fact that Jimin might have kept in touch more with Taehyung than with Jungkook during a particular period doesn’t necessarily mean that he feels closer to Taehyung. Let me illustrate this with an example, though this is not meant to reflect what happened in Jikook’s situation. If you have a friend and a lover, you would likely communicate more with your lover, depending on the circumstances. However, if you experience a misunderstanding, disagreement, breakup, or a period of distance with your lover, you might reduce or stop contact with them during that time but still maintain communication with your friend. Does this mean you’re closer to the friend you’re still in touch with? Of course not. It’s simply a matter of circumstances. This specific period doesn’t define your bond or who you feel closer to. This is the basic concept I’ve been trying to explain to for so long and I am honestly baffled people don’t understand this. I don’t know how everyone else does it but sometimes, when I don’t understand certain things, I put myself, my relationship and that of friends, family and acquaintances in that position to see it from a more realistic point of view because it is often so easy to view these people through a tunnel that blocks every logic out. Because these aren’t people we know personally it is very easy to watch them thinking we are watching movies or something.
Relationships and their depth are not defined by one single moment in time but by history, patterns, and consistency. And that’s something Taekook lacks. They don’t have a history that demonstrates they are or have ever been closer than Jikook at least not emotionally. There’s no consistency either. You’ll notice that Taekookers often cling to the solo era, referencing it as proof of their ship, because without that period in the 13+ years BTS has been together, they have almost nothing. There’s no evidence of Taekook knowing or hanging out with each other’s friends, little or no proof of them prioritizing time together outside of work, no evidence of them being each other’s biggest supporters, and no evidence of them seeking comfort or companionship from each other, except during fun moments. They literally have nothing else, and they know this, which is why they hold onto the solo era……it’s all they have. Taekook could come out of the military and never be seen together outside of work again, but Taekookers would still cling to that era. If you carve out that solo era period from the ship and ask taekookers to make arguments for their ship, they go back to slowed down edits, narratives about two lovers being separated and oppressed or counting moles on each others faces. Most of the arguments they have today they didn’t have before the solo era and they don’t find that straight. One of the funniest thing I ever read a taekooker on here write was that Taekook is real because they kept hanging out with each other when there was no contractual obligation. These are the same people who claim every time Jk mentioned Jimin on Lives he did it because of his contract or that he couldn’t say no to the travel show because of contracts. If Hybe could make Jungkook obey the contractual obligations to do fanservice with Jimin, couldn’t they stop takeook from hanging out? Yet they themselves send off takeook to premiers with body guards, send them off to concerts, post bangtan bombs of them on Valentine’s Day which they same tkkrs gosh about mind you. As if any of these boys ever had a contractual obligation to spend time with each other outside of work. I wonder what was said in the contract to make Jikook hang out all the times we know they did consistently for years.
This blogger claims that Jikook don’t need each other on a daily, weekly, or monthly basis, and suggests that Taekook does because they hung out during the solo era. First of all, there’s a big difference between two friends hanging out out of convenience and two people actually prioritizing each other’s company over everyone else’s. Taekookers believe Taekook prioritized each other, but that’s simply not true. Prioritization happens when circumstances don’t make it easy or you have other options but you still make the effort or choose each other. Other members were busy with their solo projects so who else was there for Jungkook to do those thrilling things with except Taehyung? Also notice how Jk was almost always tagging along with Tae and his friends and not just him and Tae together doing stuff which mean even Tae’s friends were always still more of a priority for him and Jungkook was an add on to the fun. For years, we rarely saw Taekook hang out outside of work, and we even confirmed that they didn’t spend time together during breaks, birthdays, or other significant days. We also confirmed that they grew a bit distant. So, now you think they prioritized each other just because they started hanging out when both of them had free time and mind you at a time when other didn’t? That’s not how it works. And it’s clear that wasn’t the case because as soon as they got busy with their albums, the hangouts stopped. They both still made time to frequently hang out with others, just not with each other as much. This is the simplest proof that if their schedules hadn’t aligned, we definitely wouldn’t have seen them together as much. They always talk about Jimin hanging out with Yoongi and Hobi but ofcourse. That was a given because 1: they are his close friends and 2: their schedules aligned way more than they did with other people. They were all working on their albums and were probably operating on the same wavelength as opposed to Jungkook who was on a rest and no work mode so it make sense that they kept more communication because they saw each other more so it was easier to do more stuff together. Also notice how Jimin wasn’t seen going to concerts or premieres and stuff like that with Hobi and Yoongi but occasionally had drinks with them, played games with them and talked with them on the phone. It’s really not the same things to compare.
What Taekookers have never understood about Taekook is that their dynamic is a fun and lighthearted one, primarily centered around shared activities. They click well when it comes to doing fun things they both enjoy. They have many common interests, particularly when it comes to engaging in entertaining activities. Their bond is more situational and activity-based rather than deeply emotionally intertwined. While they clearly enjoy spending time together, their interactions suggest a relationship built on fun, shared interests, and a natural ease in each other’s presence, rather than one rooted in deep personal connection or emotional dependence.
If you pay close attention, you’ll notice that Taehyung and Jungkook’s hangouts are almost always centered around specific activities or events, rather than deep emotional closeness or meaningful conversations or time spent together. This is evident from the fact that, almost every time we saw or heard about them being together in Chapter Two, they were engaged in some activity or having fun, only to part ways afterward and return to their respective homes. Even the one time we learned Jungkook was at Taehyung’s place, it wasn’t for intimate, one-on-one time, it was with some of Taehyung’s other friends, and Taehyung mentioned they were just playing games. On multiple occasions, we saw Jungkook hang out with Taehyung and then return home to start a live stream, which shows that he still craved a level of companionship that his previous outings hadn’t fully satisfied. You never just hear that they choose to be together just because….
Taehyung and Jungkook don’t have the continuous need to be together that one would expect from people who truly need each other on a daily basis, as this blogger claims. They meet, have fun, and once the purpose of the hangout is served, they go their separate ways. For instance, Taehyung didn’t feel the need to stay with Jungkook at the ski resort after enjoying the fun; he chose to leave with friends, leaving Jungkook behind. He didn’t feel any obligation to remain with him, as one would expect from a lover or a friend with a deep emotional connection.
Similarly, Jungkook didn’t feel the need to stay by Taehyung’s side after the musical and premiere, even though Taehyung apparently got drunk and fell asleep. A lover wouldn’t leave you alone in such a state, but a friend who was there just for the fun and company would leave without feeling any obligation to stay. Notice how every time you see or hear about them hanging out, it’s always centered around some fun activity and never simply because they wanted to spend time together. They don’t feel the need to stick together unless there’s something they both find fun to do.
This dynamic is very different from that of Jimin and Jungkook. I don’t need to list all the ways they differ, as I’m sure it’s already clear. Jungkook going to Jimin when lonely and bored just to sit there for hours with him doing nothing speaks volumes. Jungkook going to Jimin after a 3 day tiring concert to spend time with him, cook for him and seemingly spending the night with him just to be seen with him again the next day at a restaurant with friends shows the difference. We all know that these guys lived very busy, tedious and fast paced lives where they barely got a chance to spend any alone time together except at night as they were usually together as a group. So in cases like this, one would expect that the two people who are closest and possibly in a romantic relationship will prioritize those alone times together since they always had dozens of staff and cameras shoved in their faces all day with little to no privacy and we saw that the two people who actually did this were Jimin and Jungkook not Taehyung and Jungkook. Jungkook himself coined “all nighter friends” name with Jimin which spoke a lot about how much they spent their nights and quieter moments together.
Taekook share a laid-back, fun, and comfortable dynamic, which often gives Taekookers the impression that they are much closer than they actually are. A prime example would be Taekook at the Harry Styles concert. Anyone watching them together that night would assume they were the best of friends, which in a way they are. However, what people wouldn’t know is that at that very moment, Taehyung didn’t even know Jungkook’s hotel room number. What’s more telling is that, behind the scenes, whenever Jungkook felt the need for company, he repeatedly sought out Jimin, not the one he was seen comfortably hanging out with at the concert.
These moments reveal the complexity of human relationships and how different people fulfill different needs for us. The person you turn to for fun, thrill, and adventure isn’t necessarily the one you seek when your emotional needs arise. And if we go by what Jungkook has said over the years, it’s clear who he shares a deeper emotional connection with and who he has a more laid-back, fun, but less emotionally deep connection with.
I also find it frustrating the way Taekookers have elevated the Hawaii trip into something it wasn’t. That wasn’t Jungkook traveling to fulfill some emotional need for Taehyung. It was Jungkook traveling after receiving an invite to have fun with his friend…the one he clicks with perfectly when it comes to things like this. They were on the same wavelength at the time, enjoying each other’s company in their free time. Emphasis on FREE TIME. They always have fun together, and they share common interests. I’m sure Taekook would turn to each other for fun, thrill, and adventure, but I can bet my bottom dollar that they wouldn’t turn to each other for the deeper emotional stuff. They really never have, and history has proven this.
They didn’t prioritize spending time with each other over anyone else in the solo era. It was simply convenient for them to do so, and so they did. They both had the time to hang out, and they took it. But when we talk about true prioritization, we’re talking about Jimin flying all the way from Paris to spend one day with Jungkook, then heading back to Hawaii the next day. We’re talking about Jungkook choosing to use his limited break to take Jimin to Japan…something Jimin has always wanted. We’re talking about Jungkook, knowing full well that other members were available, yet choosing to spend his quiet peaceful time with Jimin every day, prioritizing him over anyone else. That’s prioritization…not Jungkook flying to Hawaii when he had time and money to have fun with Taehyung. This is something he could have done with any other friend if he had the time or money. Do you think if Mingyu or Eunwoo call Jungkook to join them somewhere fun in ant part of the world Jungkook has access to while he has the time and money he wouldn’t go? He will definitely go. Tae didn’t call Jungkook because he missed him in the way taekookers think. He might have missed his company and known that that is something they both would really enjoy doing since they relate like that and called him but it was definitely not because he missed his boyfriend. If that was the case, his “boyfriend” wouldn’t only have found out at the moment that be was in Hawaii.
Prioritization again comes in when Taehyung gets on planes to support his wooga, or his wooga putting everything else aside to spend time with him before his enlistment, or when he ensures he doesn’t miss important days for them. He never really prioritizes seeing Jungkook on his birthdays, and vice versa. He didn’t care to see Jungkook even for a single day during their 2019 break, choosing to travel with his friends instead even when Jungkook had a birthday yet we had Jimin flying all the way from Paris to see Jungkook for a few hours and head back yet, Taekookers claim they prioritize each other in that way? They don’t.
Two friends meeting up and hanging out when they have the time doesn’t equate to prioritizing each other, nor does it signify deep emotional connection or bond. Yes, they must like and care about each other to hang out multiple times, which we know Taekook do, but if their schedules had been less aligned, they wouldn’t have cared as much, and it wouldn’t have bothered them.
Unlike Taekook, Jimin and Jungkook have a long history of prioritizing each other, keeping constant communication, and staying fully aware of what the other is doing. A few months in a 13+ year friendship doesn’t change that. Real closeness isn’t about how many hangouts or fun activities two people can have, or how many cute pictures they take together, or where they sit during meals. True closeness and a deep emotional bond are about who you want to be with even when there’s nothing to do, who you turn to when you’re going through emotional moments, and who you think of watching when you can’t sleep at 4 a.m. These are subtle things, but they speak volumes.
Closeness is relative, and we can be close to people in different ways. There are ways Jungkook is closer to Taehyung than Jimin, and vice versa, but based on everything Jungkook has said over the years, and how we’ve seen them interact, it’s clear that his emotional connection with Jimin is and has always been much deeper. I guess it’s up for debate who you think he’s closer to. If you think a dynamic based on fun activities, camaraderie and ease is closer than one built on emotional depth and closeness, then I suppose you’d think Taekook are closer.
PS: AYS is still a very sore topic for taekookers. They claim AYS proved enough but if AYS really confirmed that Taekook is real and Jikook isn’t, why do they detest the show so much?
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Very rare nsfw Bird au !! Pls do not interact if ur a minor or I'll fucking kill myself, and then no one will get anymore Naruto content because I'll be dead
So, you know that one type of fic that's like "Tobirama sleeps Madara in an attempt to calm him the fuck down / give him something to focus on / tie him to the village so he will be less likely to leave or self destruct" ?
Ok so THAT. but now throw Hikaku in there to help. They are teaming up to try and tie Madara down before he doom spirals
Ok so. Hikaku and Tobirama talk about how they're worried about Madara's looming self implosion / mental state
Tobirama is like "don't worry, I'll take care of this."
And Hikaku is kinda press x to doubt but also kinda "alright, good luck"
Only for a couple days later Madara to seem to calm down / have become dramatically more smug and peaceful.
So, yk, Hikaku is like "woah, Senju-sama what did you do? Whatever it was, keep it up, this is wonderful I haven't seen him so level in months."
And Tobirama is like "Hmm. Yes. Letting him have his way with me certainly did seem to help calm him, didn't it?"
And Hikaku is like record scratch car crash noises "letting him WHAT."
So Tobirama explains that yeah, he let Madara fuck him. A lot. Also he would NOT shut up during it, which Tobirama also just kind of let happen which also seemed to help...? Double time therapy, I guess
And Hikaku is like. Head in his hands. If it works it works...? He guesses...? Oh my god he wish he didn't know this tho
BUT THEN.
Tobirama is gone for a week on a mission, and Madara is looking pretty bad. Like, sharp decline, he is in a bad way. And Hikaku, panicking, is like "oh fuck what would Tobirama do" and then ends up throwing himself at Madara out of desperation
It works !! Surprisingly well !! There were a couple hiccups at first maybe, but Madara and Tobirama were never exclusive or anything (and Madara might have partially agreed out of spite for Tobirama)
Madara calms down, Hikaku is left with his head spinning and very "fuckkkkk ok, too late to back out now. It worked, we are commiting"
Tobirama comes back and is pleased, less work for him. Good job Hikaku, he knew u were a real one
Now, this is purely tactical for Tobirama (at that point) it's a strategic fuck to calm Madara down, with a bonus of usually being good for him.
So he is pleasantly surprised Hikaku backed him up. He would have thought Hikaku might try and find someone else to throw at Madara, the fact he would sacrifice himself only further proves his loyalty to the village in his eyes
Hikaku one of the real ones fr, Tobirama's trust and respect in him is on the rise
Hikaku still has his head in his hands as he digests the fact this is his life now
Meanehile: In Madara's little world, rhe senju bastard AND his hot most loyal man in the world are throwing themselves at him. He is convinced he's winning.
And like, he is, to be fair. But only because of the mental illness
Madara is sitting around creating convoluted soap opera plot lines for the three of them in his head.
Like, he's imagining Hikaku and Tobirama office cat fighting over him, one of them getting jealous over the other, competing for his attention and affection. Two of Konoha's most powerful, well respected, high ranking shinobi... and they are fighting over Madara... he's so back..
Meanwhile Tobirama and Hikaku are telling eachother ab their recent Madara interactions and going "oh good, that should keep him calm for a few days" and nodding at eachother like "we are in this mess together, my brother in arms"
So, Madara ends up noticing the vibes in that corner and then he possibly ends up getting jealous of them spending too much time alone together (they are strategizing on what to do with/to him next) and gets even more pouty and mad even after they fuck, because "I bet this bitch was thinking about Tobirama/Hikaku the whole time >:(
(Meanwhile, Madara was the one thinking about the other the whole time. Mostly in the context of them joining them)
He finally snaps and rejects one of Tobirama's advances while saying something stupid shit like "why don't u just go sleep with HIKAKU, since I know thats where you REALLY wanna be. You think I haven't noticed you sneaking around with him, huh? Huh? Whore."
And Tobirama is like "are we seriously doing this now? Is this seriously what we are doing? Ok."
And Tobirama and Hikaku now have to strategize to come on to Madara TOGETHER or smthn, or at minimum put on some sort of production to feed into his sudden insecurities so they can guide him out of them
Madara meanwhile remains suspiciously fixated on the idea of them sleeping together (without him!!!! How dare they!!!!)
All of that is to say:
Tobirama and Hikaku end up sleeping together for Madara and having to put on a big show of it just to make Madara feel like he still has the power here.
Tobirama is largely indifferent to this turn of events, Hikaku remains "oh my god how is this my fucking life" but also "well. It's for the greater good, I guess. Not like it's a horrible fate for me."
So anyways: Hikaku and Tobirama alliance to try and calm Madara the fuck down via fucking and letting him fuck them. Pass it on.
#hikaku..... i love you hikaku...#this is stupid but all my aus are stupid. so#naruto#birds fic talk#senju tobirama#tobirama senju#hikaku uchiha#uchiha hikaku#madara uchiha#uchiha madara#madahika#madatobi#tobimada#mdtb#tbmd#tobimadahika#hikatobi#tobihika#hikamada
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THE CUT THAT ALWAYS BLEEDS
Keigo Takami is in love with you, and you don't love him back
Hanahaki disease, angst, fluff, workplace romance
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Keigo starts his morning the same way he has for the past two months, by coughing up a handful of bloody petals.
It splatters against the pure white of his toilet bowl, and he watches, knees digging into the floor and hands grasping the lid as they wash away, the water turning pink as the red petals disappear. It’s disgusting, really, the way he’s sprawled on the toilet floor, and on any other day he wouldn’t even consider touching the lid of any toilet, even his. But he doesn’t care, because the pain in his chest is aching, and his lungs burn as tries to breathe in, and Keigo cannot stop thinking about you.
The first time he’d coughed up a petal, it was after a week of pain. He thought it might just be the flu, or some other illness he’d caught from flying around in the cold winter winds. But then one night it had reached its peak, and Keigo was in slight disbelief at the red rose remains in his hand after he’d coughed his lungs out. It was small and bloody. He didn’t know what to think of it, so he didn’t. Maybe he swallowed something when he was flying, who knows. It wasn’t anything to worry about, he decided.
And then it happened again. And again. And it’s been happening ever since, now two months later, only getting worse and worse as the days go by. It was only after a week that he looked up his symptoms, the flowers and the blood and the constant pain in his chest, and the internet said there was only one thing it could be.
Hanahaki disease. It originated in Japan, apparently, and was rare, but real. Keigo skipped past all the useless information to find what he really needed. He found it’s a disease where someone coughs up flowers due to unrequited feelings for somebody. And he knew, the minute he read those words, that his unrequited feelings were for you.
Keigo had never loved anyone in his life. Not his parents, for obvious reasons, and his training at the Hero commission had meant that he had no time for it anywhere else. Not that there was anybody in there to love, anyway. And now, as a Pro hero with his own agency, he didn’t want love. It complicated things, and he was in no position for a relationship anyway. He barely had time for himself, so how could he deal with a relationship? So Keigo filled the empty parts of himself with meaningless sex with whoever he found. At parties, at award evenings. It was just the physicality of it, skin on his own. He craved it and got it where he could. It pissed his publicist to no end, but they usually kept quiet, and scandals always did good for the agency.
And then he met you.
His assistant had quit. Something about better opportunities, work closer to home. He had flashed her his best smile, sent flowers to her home, and waited dutifully in his office for you to walk in the next day. And you did, perfectly pressed shirt and black skirt, smiling so sweetly at him and introducing yourself, and he knew it was over.
It’s not his fault. What couldn’t he love about you? You were funny, you were kind. You brought him breakfast every morning and started leaving a pillow and a blanket in his office when you knew he’d come off a night shift. You actually spoke to him like he was a person, not Hawks, not the Number two hero. It didn’t take long for the feelings to start but he thought he was pushing them down well enough.
These flowers tell him he’s not.
He flirts with you, and the two of you joke around, but nothing ever comes of it because he knows you don’t like him back. And even if you did, Keigo would never do you the horrible favour of burdening you with loving somebody like him.
Keigo sighs, pushing himself gingerly to his feet. He clears his throat and it stings from the acidity of throwing up. He moves on autopilot, shrugging on his coat and typing the laces on his boots. His mind races with thoughts of you, of how long he has left. The final stages are apparently whole flowers and he ignores the voice in the back of his mind that says judging by what he just coughed up, he’s getting dangerously close to the end.
The weather outside is cold and bitter. Keigo hates winter, hates how he has to bundle to avoid the sharp, piercing wind whenever he flies. It’s harder to patrol in the dark and you’re less likely to leave the agency for your lunch break, so it also means he can’t use it as an excuse to take you out. He steps out on his balcony, sliding the door behind him, and he shuts his eyes.
Sometimes he thinks in another life, he’d tell you. In another life maybe he was just an assistant like you, someone normal, someone you deserved. That after his shift he’d get to come home and you’d have cooked dinner or he’d bring home takeout. He craves normalcy, to have a home with someone, and he can’t help but dream it’s with you.
He slips his goggles on and pulls up the gaiter around his neck. He steps forward and with one strong flap of his wings he’s in the air.
The flight to the agency doesn’t take long. Nothing really does, to be honest. He’s not patrolling today but he still keeps an eye on the ground, the sky still dark as the world wakes up around him. He lands deftly in his own office, and the wide windows being pushed open already lets him know you’re in the building too. He runs a hand through his hair, quickly checking his reflection to make sure he looks good. He does, obviously, but he can’t help but worry. There’s a familiar knock on his door, and you don’t wait for him to let you in before you enter.
Today, you’re wearing a long pair of trousers that hug your legs, the white blouse you have on buttoned up apart from the top two, a small sliver of skin exposed to show a small gold necklace he got for you at a Christmas party, holding two coffees.
His heart pounds and he coughs into his sleeve. Your eyebrows furrow and you step forward, empty hand reaching out.
“Are you okay, Hawks?” You ask, and he nods.
He clears his throat, swallowing away the feeling prickling it. He nods, flashing you a toothy grin. “Yeah, now that you’re here.”
You roll your eyes but he doesn’t miss the small smile on your face as you set his drink down on the table. He takes a long drink of it and you wince.
“God, I don’t know how you drink that. It’s more sugar than coffee.” You scrunch your nose and he shrugs.
“I need the energy, babe, you know that. All that flying around burns calories quickly.”
One of his feathers shuts the window, another two hanging up his coat. Your eyes follow quickly. He might be trying to impress you a little, but it’s been a long enough time of you watching this show that he’s sure it doesn’t do much. The skin tight thermal might, though. He may or may not be flexing a little when he stretches, but he doesn’t see any harm in that.
You nod, pulling out your phone, eyes quickly averting away from him. “Okay, so. Luckily for you, today is just paperwork. No energy necessary.” You sigh, sitting down heavily. “I hate paperwork days.”
He knows exactly why. The long, tired hours of writing and reading. Anyone would hate it, but Keigo? Keigo loves paperwork days. A whole day with the two of you in a room? What couldn’t he love about that?
He sits down across from you. It feels a little weird, too formal, with you across his desk. He doesn’t use it much. His office is pretty empty. There's no decorations, no plants, nothing. It's empty because Keigo doesn’t care. He doesn’t like this office. The only thing he likes about it is that it’s the place he spends the most time with you. He wishes you were closer.
He coughs. There's a familiar feeling itching in his lungs and he begs to a God he doesn’t know that he won’t throw up flowers in front of you.
“Aw, come on. Paper days are fine. And I’ll order food for us later.”
You perk up at that. “Really? Let’s get yakitori.”
“And this is why I love you.” He coughs again and you peer at him.
“Are you okay? You keep coughing today.”
He nods. “Don’t worry about it, babe, I’m good.”
You keep looking at him. “If you’re sick, go home.”
“No, I’m fine. The number two hero doesn’t get sick.”
You don’t look convinced but you hold up the first set of papers. His fingers brush against yours as he grabs them. The two of you sit in silence for all of five minutes before Keigo groans. You look up, amused.
“I’m bored.”
You sigh. “Me too. But as your assistant I have to tell you to keep going.”
Keigo pouts. You tap the pen in your hand against the desk.
“No way to get out of this?” He says. “Nope.”
“No work parties I can look forward to?”
You shake your head. Then you sit up suddenly. “Wait. Oh my god.”
Keigo sits up too, immediately mirroring your panic. His wings curl out behind him. You cover your face with your hands.
“What? You’re freaking me out, Y/N.”
“There is a work party! Tonight. That I’m supposed to be planning. And I completely forgot!” You groan.
Oh. That’s easier to deal with. “It’s fine, don’’t worry. We’ll sort it.” You shake your head and it ruffles your hair, and he wishes he could reach forward and brush it behind your ear. “No, I don't know what to do. It’s for Kaylee’s birthday! Everyone loves Kaylee, I love Kaylee, that’s why I offered to plan this for her.” You ramble.
Keigo catches most of your babble. He quickly moves off from behind his desk to stand in front of you, his hands coming to rest at your shoulders. “Breathe, girl.”
You do, chest moving up and down slowly. Like this, with you still seated and him standing, he towers over you. He thinks for a moment.
“Let’s just go now.”
“What?”
“We’ll just go get the stuff you need right now. Shouldn't be too much, right?”
Your eyes glance at the paperwork on the desk. “What about all that?”
He hums, and you look up at him again. This close, Keigo can see you so much clearer, so much brighter. Another cough rumbles in his chest and he ignores it. “We can do it another day. Blame it on me.”
You bite at your bottom lip, considering his offer. You stand up and nod, determined.
“Okay. Okay, let me get my coat. I’ll meet you at the front desk.”
And then you’re out before he can say another word.
—----------
Keigo thinks this is torture. Real, honest to God torture.
You’d refused his offer to fly to the marketplace, so now the two of you were just walking down the street. He’d left his feathers at work, and changed into the most civilian outfit in the agency. It always felt weird without them on his back, the heavy weight something he’d been used to since he was born. But for you, Keigo thinks he might set them all on fire.
What makes everything worse is that you’re walking with your arm linked in his. You had been since you’d walked out the agency, animatedly talking and pointing at the things around you. It was hard to focus on much when your fingers squeezed his bicep every time you saw something you liked.
“Okay, so. I need a cake, and decorations. And like, snack food.”
He nods. “Yes, ma’am. Can we squeeze lunch in there?”
“There’s always time for lunch, Hawks.”
The first stop the two of you end up at is a supermarket. You pass him a coin to grab a shopping cart and he immediately starts running around with it, and you tut.
“Hawks, enough. People are looking.”
Your words should sound annoyed, but there’s a soft fondness behind them that has his head reeling. You take the cart from his hands and he lets you walk ahead, because the feeling that he’s started to dread builds in his torso, and he grabs the tissue out of his pocket and he coughs.
It’s loud and grating and it scratches the back of his throat. He’s lucky that there’s nobody around to see him gag into his hand, the petals tickling as he spits, blood splattering against it. He breathes heavily, once, twice, and tears prick at his eyes. He curses, eyes screwed shut. Not today, not like this. Not when he finally has a day alone with you. He throws the tissue in the trash outside the shop, and goes in to find you.
He finds that grocery shopping is fun. He’s never actually been before. His groceries are kindly delivered by the Commission straight to his front door, so he’s never actually done this before. It’s exciting. He likes the little line you get between your eyebrows whenever you get annoyed at him for putting random things in the basket.
“Hawks, enough! We don’t need six loaves of bread!”
“We do! We can make those little hors d’oeuvres with like, pesto on them.”
You mumble some choice words under your breath, putting them all back. “Hawks, this isn’t some Hero commission party. We’re getting a bag of Doritos and dip and calling it a day.”
Keigo pouts and you drag him over to the basket. “Here, you push this.”
You take him to the produce aisle and he boos as your throw in a few vegetables sticks. Keigo gags again, holding up the celery sticks. You snatch them out his hand and toss them back in the car.
“Stop. We need something healthy so we can eat a carrot stick and feel good about the cake I’m going to buy.” You tap your head knowingly and he grins.
“I don’t look healthy enough as is?” He stretches out his arm and the windblower you’d found for him in the agency billows around his arms.
You snort, patting him on the chest. “Oh, yeah. You look great.”
It leaves him winded, just for a second, and then he’s back.
The cake aisle is his favourite one. You steer him clearly away from the children’s cakes, because he’s sure you saw the light in his eyes when he noticed the Marvel cake.
“Can we get chocolate?” He asks, and you shrug.
“I don’t know. You know what Kaylee likes?” You step a bit closer to the shelves, peering at the different boxes.
Keigo hums, tapping the corner of his chin. He walks around the cart until he’s right next to you. “How about that? Red velvet. And it looks cute.” He points to the one near you, arm reaching over and brushing against yours.
“Hm. Yes. That’s- Yes. Red velvet.” You nod.
Keigo glances at you and he finds the two of you are closer than he realised. He thinks if he leans in just slightly you’ll be kissing. He smiles, soft and sweet.
“You look pretty this close.”
“So I look ugly from afar?” You joke, but you sound nervous.
Keigo's eyes dart to your lips. It’s so quick but he sees the way your cheeks flush. “You never look ugly. Don’t I compliment you enough?”
You shove him away softly, reaching for the red velvet cake.
“Enough out of you. Go grab candles.”
And Keigo does, in the next aisle over, and hopes you can’t hear him coughing up another handful of petals.
———
The two of you finish up quickly, despite Keigo’s efforts to long out the day as much as he can. The coughing only gets worse, and he’s surprised you haven’t noticed the amount of times he disappears to hack up his lungs around the nearest corner.
But it’s fine, he tells himself. This is about you, about helping you. He can deal with this problem later.
You, who are sitting across from him in the tiniest table known to man at his favourite yakitori place. Part of him is a little annoyed about the whole ‘civilian disguise’, because whenever the owner sees it’s him he always gets a few extra sticks. But he can’t complain. Your legs are touching his, seeing as you’d shoved the both of you in the farthest corner of the shop possible. Which also happens to be the smallest in the shop.
“Okay, so, when we get back I’ll set up everything and we’re done!” You speak around a mouthful of food, chicken almost falling onto the table.
He nods, mouth also full. “Perfect. And you’re sure you don’t need help setting up?”
You shake your head. “I should be good, there’s not that much to do.”
You place the now empty stick on the table, dusting your hands. “Thanks for this, Hawks. Really.”
He just smiles. “Don't mention it. Anything for my favourite assistant.”
“Aren’t I your only assistant?”
“So? You’d still be my favourite if I had more.”
You snort, picking up another stick. “Sure, sure.”
The grocery bags crinkle beneath the table. And like this, without his wings and without any eyes on him Keigo can be selfish and pretend like this is real.
You glance around the restaurant. “I like this place. Why haven’t we come here before?”
Keigo shrugs, polishing off another two sticks. “It’s usually busy around our lunch time. We should come more though.”
You nod. “Definitely. There’s this ramen place too, we should go there. It’s by that supermarket we went to.”
It’s so casual, so calm, and his heart is racing.
“Oh! I found this song. I think you’ll like it.”
You dig in your purse and pull out the same ratty wired earphones he makes fun of you for everyday. He rolls his eyes and you glare at him.
“No. Shut up.”
“Just let me buy you a nice pair of AirPods, babe. Seriously, these are dying.” He flicks the wire that’s covered in tape and you tut, pushing his hands away.
“Never. I'm a wired earphone supporter till I die. Come here.”
You scoot your chair closer to the table, but they don’t really reach. “Fuck. Okay, wait.”
You stand up, dragging your chair so it’s right up next to his. You sit down, and your hand comes up to brush his hair out of the way so you can press the earphone in his ear. And if you see his breath hitch you don’t say anything. Just hit play, your own earphone in.
And the pure bliss of having you this close, close enough that he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume, lasts about a minute before he starts coughing.
He reels it back as much as he can, wincing as he swallows the petals that try to crawl their way out his throat. He drinks water, washing away the taste of metal from his mouth and he barely even registers your hand on his shoulder.
“Hawks? Are you alright?” There’s panic clear as day on your face, and he nods.
“Y-Yes. Don’t worry, I think I just swallowed a piece of chicken wrong.”
You’re not convinced as easily as before. “That didn’t sound normal, Hawks. Should we take you to the doctor?”
“No, it’s fine, babe. I promise.”
He holds up his pinkie. You just stare at him for a moment, eyes searching for a lie. But you seem to believe him, because your hand comes up and your finger curls around his.
——-
The party is going well, he thinks.
Kaylee looks happy. You did well with the decorations, as best as you could do with an office room and an hour. There’s pink balloons and streamers that Keigo wants to scream that he bought with you. But that’s stupid and desperate, so he doesn’t.
You’d all sang and cheered as she blew out her candles. She looked nice but Keigo couldn’t keep his eyes off you, grinning so hard it was like your face was about to split in half. People were milling about now. Keigo likes to think he knows all his employees but he’d be lying if he said he recognised every face that had come to greet him.
There is one face he could recognise anywhere.
“Birdbrain! What are you doing here?”
Rumi’s voice is loud and full of energy, and he can’t help but mirror the grin on her face the second she claps him on the back.
“It’s almost like this is my agency.” He raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing here?”
“Kaylee and I know each other from ages ago. She used to intern when I was working with Best Jeanist.”
Keigo nods. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a guy approaching you. One of the office workers he can’t name. His wings are back on his body and he wishes he could send one over to listen to what you’re talking about.
“But- Are you even listening to me?” Rumi says.
“Yes. I am.”
“No. You’re not.”
Rumi follows his eyeline, to where you’re handing out slices of cake. She nods, understandingly. “I see. Have you asked her out?”
“What? No. Why would I- She’s my assistant.” Keigo splutters.
Rumi laughs, clapping him on the shoulder once more. “Oh, Hawks. Has positions of power ever stopped you before?”
Keigo frowns. “No, it’s not like that. I’m not trying to just hook up with her.”
“Oh.” Rumi looks at you again. “You actually like her?”
“Yes. No. It’s- It’s complicated.”
Rumi hums thoughtfully. The two of them were quite blatantly staring at you now, and Keigo is sure you’d be quite weirded out if you caught them. But he doesn’t need to worry about that, because your attention is stolen away by some guy. Keigo doesn’t even know his name because he’s some irrelevant worker that doesn’t even matter.
But he seems to matter to you. Because you are smiling and laughing, and you nudge his shoulder when he says something Keigo itches to hear.
“Well. Maybe try telling her. She won’t wait around forever.” Rumi nods towards you and he shakes his head.
“That’s… I don’t- Just leave it.” Keigo’s voice sounds bitter in a way he’s not used to, and Rumi peers at him.
“Birdbrain? You doing okay there?”
He’s not. How could Keigo be doing okay, when Rumi is annoyingly right? You won’t wait forever. Keigo doesn’t even have forever. He has a few weeks left if his research is correct. And for some dumb reason Keigo didn’t seem to think about the fact that he might live to see you with someone else.
You move slightly closer to him, and Keigo’s fist clenches.
He doesn’t even know the guy, but can he be surprised? You’re perfect, you’re you. It makes sense that he’s not the only one in love with you. Keigo sees the hand this guy places on your elbow, the way he smiles at you whenever you laugh. He knows that look because it’s how he looks at you everyday.
And then it starts. Slow and slight. It stirs in his lungs, just a tickle, but he knows, he knows what comes next.
Rumi notices the way his face pales, and she shakes his arm. “Hawks? You’re freaking me out, what’s wrong?”
And he tries to answer, but all that comes out is a choking noise he can’t even recognise as a sound his own body made. And the feeling builds up all too quickly, and Keigo thinks he might be dying. He’s rushing out the room to try and make it to the bathroom, but he doesn’t make it further than out the door, because the pain in his chest is splitting, like somebody is trying to push their way out of his skin. He drops to the knees and he clutches at his stomach, and he coughs and coughs and there’s blood, and there’s flowers now, fully grown flowers-
And then everything goes dark.
——————
Keigo opens his eyes to the bright white ceiling of a hospital room. It’s not something he hasn’t seen before, and the slow blink back to life and the few seconds of peace before the pain kicks in are always the worst. He blinks harshly before slowly, slowly sitting up, arms almost buckling from his weight.
He hates the weakness that comes with injury, the embarrassment. If he was still training at the commission they would’ve sent him back on the field before he’d even gotten up. But, he doubts he’d have gotten a disease quite like this over there.
It’s only after he’s pushed himself into a sitting position that he sees you.
Arms crossed as your head leans back against the wall behind you, asleep. He has no idea how long it’s been, but judging by the fact you’re still wearing the clothes you were wearing in the office, he assumes it’s the same day. He glances out the window and its pitch black.
And you look beautiful. Even with the mascara smudged beneath your eyes, the worry on your face even visible in your sleep. Keigo looks away, but not before you wake up and catch him staring. You blink like you might be dreaming, before you bring your chair closer to him.
“Hawks. You’re- You’re awake.” You whisper the words like if you say them too loudly they might not be true.
He smiles as best as he can. “Hey, pretty. The party still going on without me?” He tries for a joke but your eyes prick with tears.
“Don’t. Don’t joke right now. Nothing about this is funny.” You sound serious in a way he’s never heard before, and some sick, twisted part of himself is giddy that it’s all for him.
“You promised you were fine.”
Keigo wants to turn away because the hurt on your face is his fault.
“I’m sorry. I just-“ He sighs. “Did you see?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone else see?”
“No. Rumi stopped them from coming out into the hall.”
He nods. You shake your head, hand coming up to rub at your eyes.
“How long has it been?” He asks.
You check your watch. “It’s one in the morning so. About six hours.”
Keigo falters. “Wait- You’ve been here for six hours?”
You frown. “Well obviously. I- They said I’m your emergency contact. And someone had to be here to tell you what the doctor said.”
He knows already. From the sharp pain in his chest he knows.
“I’m assuming you know it’s Hanahaki?”
He nods. You nod.
“You-“ You curse. It takes a few moments for you to get the words out.
“He said you don’t have long. The petals, he said they’re starting to look like flowers. Fully grown ones. And that means you’re in the final stages.” Your voice cracks and Keigo thinks he might throw up again.
“Okay.”
You pause. “Okay? Is that all you have to say? Okay?”
Keigo frowns. “Y/N, I-“
“Do you not get it, Hawks? You’re going to die. He says you’re going to die if you don’t either tell the person or- get the surgery done.”
Keigo shakes his head immediately. “I’m not doing the surgery.”
Your lip quivers and you pull yourself even closer. Your hand grabs his and it’s cold where his is warm, and you squeeze.
“You have to, Hawks. The world can’t lose you. I can’t lose you.” You whisper.
And your words sound so raw, so vulnerable, and it tears at his inside more than the roses growing inside them.
“Just try. Try, okay? Tell them how you feel and see. It- It might be reciprocated. It definitely will be. I mean, who wouldn’t be in love with you?” You laugh wetly, eyes glistening with unshed tears.
But there’s something else behind them.
Jealousy.
And there’s a small flicker of hope that grows beneath his bones. And he looks at you then, at the tears that gather on the bottom of those fluttering eyelashes. And he reaches up, brushes the curve of your cheek.
And your breath hitches. He feels the heat on your face from how close he is, and he thinks he might cry.
“It’s not fair.” His voice sounds so weak, so awfully weak and he wants to scream.
“What is? What’s not fair?” You ask.
“I can’t tell her. I don’t deserve her.”
You look so confused. Like he’s said the dumbest thing in the world. “What?”
“I’m not- I work almost everyday, and when I am off I’m too tired to do anything. My place is more of a prison cell than an apartment. I- I’ve never even been in a relationship before. Never even thought about it. I can’t- I’m not allowed, Y/N.”
And now his voice cracks and your hand squeezes tighter. And his voice sounds unfamiliar. This desperation, the frantic panic that fights against his words is so unlike him. Keigo has never been vulnerable with anybody in his life, but that look in your eyes makes him feel like he can tell you everything. All the dirty horrible secrets he keeps locked inside himself.
“It’s not fair. I don’t know if I can even be there for someone. It’s why I never said anything, I didn’t want to mess up a relationship that’s so important for me for one I can’t even commit to. It’s not fair on you, Y/N. You deserve better.”
He feels like there’s a weight that’s left his shoulder when he finishes speaking, rambled words he can barely remember. He’s out of breath when he’s done. Waiting anxiously for you to say something. Maybe this real version of Keigo is too much for you. He has half a mind to tell you it was just a joke, he didn’t mean it if it means you’ll stop looking so shocked. Keigo just needs you to say something.
“I deserve better?”
He doesn’t expect that. “What?” He says, confused.
You swallow roughly and he watches the sharp lines of your throat as you do so. “You said ‘you deserve better’. You as in, me. As in… I’m the one you have feelings for?”
Shit.
“I- Did I say that? I think it’s the medicine, it’s making me all-“
“Are you in love with me, Hawks?”
The room isn’t silent. The machines he’s hooked up to all make a low humming noise, and he can hear people and nurses walking and talking outside. But when you say those words it feels like the world has stopped.
He could lie. But Keigo won’t get the surgery, so he figures he might as well let you know how he feels before he dies.
“Yes.”
You freeze for a moment. Then your hands come up to cover your face and he immediately misses the contact. And then your shoulders start shaking and he thinks you're crying.
Keigo sighs. “It’s not that awful of a thing. No reason to cry.”
“I’m not crying. I’m laughing.”
When you look back up at him there are in fact tears running down your face, but you look happy. And hope claws its way out of him.
“This funny to you?”
“No. Your stupidity is, though.”
Keigo is quiet for a moment, confused. “Do you mind elaborating on that?”
“Hawks, do you think it’s normal that I do all your paperwork with you? Or that we get lunch together almost everyday? Do you think any other assistant in all of Japan would stay as late as their boss, especially when he’s a top ten Pro hero who rarely finishes before ten in the evening?”
“I-“
“Do you think it’s normal that I wear this necklace you bought me everyday?” And you reach into your shirt and pull it out, the gold catching against the light.
“Hawks, I spend every waking second I’m in that agency with you if I can help it. I’ve had job offers a million times better than what I do for you, and I’ve rejected every single one because I wanted to be with you.”
Keigo doesn’t say anything. You grab his hand again, but it feels a little more threatening this time.
“You don’t get to decide if I deserve you or not, I do. It’s- I can’t believe you. I don’t care about all that. We’ll figure it out together.”
And Keigo just closes his eyes, because this can’t be real. He must be dreaming, because Keigo doesn’t get things like this. Love. Nothing like that look on your face that’s all for him.
“You sure you're not just saying this because I’m dying?”
And you laugh, and let your tears fall freely, and Keigo can finally breathe clearly for the first time in months.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
this is for lysa if ur anyone else stop reading...?
JKKKKK guys i love hawks so much i can't explain... he was my lover for so long i miss him
also i loved writing this i literally did it in ONE NIGHT?? plz give me more ideas pookas
LOVE U ALLL HAVE A GOOD NIGHT
#b3ach bunn7#oneshot#fluff#hawks x reader#mha hawks#bnha hawks#takami keigo#keigo takami#mha takami keigo#keigo x reader#bnha keigo#keigo tamaki#hawks#keigo tamaki x reader#mha angst#angst with a happy ending#hanahaki#hanahaki disease
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being geta’s betrothed and catching lucius’ eye!
Amor Fati | Lucius Verus Aurelius
plot: high status fem reader (betrothed to Geta) x Lucius the boy who saw who she truly was
use of roman lingo/historical terms, angst, not entirely canon accurate, death and violance
translation of amor fati: love of fate
Word Count: 3923
a/n: thank you so much for the request i was so excited to write this!! I did my best to also write a bit more "Roman"! Enjoy!
The sun beat down on the emperor's box. Only so much the velarium could do to prevent the sun's rays from entering the little room. You leaned forward in your seat, and closer and closer, you crept to the railing. You wanted to feel more of the sun; it was the only time of the day you were allowed outside the palace, and you wanted to enjoy every bit of it.
Once the sun hit your face, a sigh escaped your lips, and the tension in your body fell. The warmth and heat of the sun made everything feel better. You knew Geta would scold you any minute for the act, but you could care less.
Your imprisonment in the palace started a year ago when your father, an elite senate member, said you were to be married to the emperor. Apparently, the emperor was looking to the senate members for marriage offers; your father was the first and only one to stand with one. Your face fell at the memory of him coming home and telling you to pack your things and leave for the palace. You screamed yourself that night, fought every way to that place, and didn't even spare a glance at the emperor before you were shoved in your room with the door locked behind you.
You sat back at the memory, wanting to leave it in the past. You couldn't change your fate, the one you were forced into. You had always hoped you wouldn't be one of the women thrown into an arranged marriage by their fathers, but here you were. While you and Emperor Geta were not married, you knew it was coming soon. A shaky breath left you at the thought. Geta was not a terrible man, but he wasn't a good one either. You could see his rage and ambition, and it scared you the way he ruled with it.
You looked to your left and saw Geta sitting on his throne with a plastered smile. It was a wicked one. You shrunk away at the sight. You wished for nothing more than to be rid of him and this role. The more you ponder, the more you lose track of the world. It wasn't until Getas's voice spoke up next to you that you blinked back to reality.
“Why is that gladiator looking at…you” Geta said, casting an aggravated look down towards the pits. You turned your head towards the gladiator in question. You felt as if lightning struck you when you locked eyes with him. For that tiny moment, you felt as if all that mattered in the world was him. This brown-haired blue-eyed gladiator smirked at you, making your heart beat even faster. A slight blush crept up your cheeks. You looked away before anyone noticed and before the heat in your stomach could intensify. Geta eyed you suspiciously before returning to the games and seemingly forgetting about everything. You let out a slow breath that you didn't realize you had been holding. You often wondered how many times a day you forget to breathe when around Geta, always worried about being anything other than perfect.
That night was filled with another lavish party, and you tried to keep a smile and content look on your face. You glanced towards the arches on the far side of the room that led out onto the streets of Rome. People passed through them as they entered the party, coming and going. You wished you were one of those people, able to come and go as pleased. You knew you had to wait till night when the empire slept before you could creep out onto the streets. The furthest you had made it in one night was past the gates, watching the sunrise over the hills towards the countryside. You were back in your room by sun up and complained of feeling ill to get out of leaving your room for the day. Those days when you could be yourself at night and explore were all you looked forward to.
As the night grew late and their parties died, you bid farewell and went to your room. You were overlooked as you left; the emperors were occupied with their own girls. Thoughts swarmed your mind. ‘this would not be how your night ended’, you wanted to see the gladiator that caught your eye. You stopped momentarily before a smile crept onto your face, another perfect outing. You slipped your way out of the palace and onto the streets of Rome.
The Colosseum loomed ahead of you, drawing you in. You walked through its halls, which were quiet now in the late night hours. The only noise could be heard from the Ludus, where the gladiators lived. You walked inside, the cloak around your neck and head protecting you slightly. The men eyed you curiously, some recognizing you from the emperor's box. Ravi, the gladiator's doctor, walked over to you.
“I see your adventures have taken you here,” he said lightly. Ravi was one of the few men you had come across on your nightly walks that were kind and enjoyable to converse with. You nodded your head at the man.
“After much pleading from you and the electrifying eyes of a gladiator, I was drawn here,” you told him honestly. Your voice steady as you spoke to him
“Someone catch your eye,” Ravi said, laughing a little. He motioned you to follow him as he showed you towards their dining area. “Not much longer will they be here.” Many gladiators were still enjoying the company of others while eating the rest of their final meals of the day. You glanced around the room, waiting for him to catch your eye. You glanced out twords the training grounds in search of him. There he was, training for his next day in the arena. You walked over to the walkway's edge, carefully watching from afar. When he heard your feet as they drew closer, he glanced behind him. His eyes met yours, and the same electrifying feeling was sent through your body. The man dropped his sword and marched over to you.
“Noble women should not be down here,” he told you, eyeing you up and down. His hands reached out and threaded through some of the fabric of your dress. “Or did you come here to boast about your position”
“I am not one to boast,” you told him. His eyes were finally brought back up to meet yours. “I am only here to…meet you.” The sweetness in your voice dripped like honey, drawing him in like a bee. The man before you could practically taste the sweetness of your voice.
“Hmm,” he hummed. “I am not interesting, my lady,” he said with a deep accent. It made your knees feel weak hearing it from his lips. You both stood in each other's presence, neither wanting to move or break the moment.
“What is your prenomen?” you asked the gladiator before you. He glanced down before returning his gaze to your face.
“Hanno,” he said, “my lady”
“I do not need the formality,” you told him, “y/n will do.”
“y/n.” It rolled off his lips with ease and sensuality that you almost felt yourself lose composure. Hanno was nothing like the man you had known or knew; he was something else entirely. “The guards call for me now, I must leave you.”
“I will pray for you tomorrow.” Eagerness filled your voice with the promise.
“I do not need your god's help,” Hanno's words hung in the air, “your presents is enough.” with a sweet smile, he left twords his cell. You could tell he held a lot on his shoulders.
As the night turned to day, golden rays warmed the earth. You rose from your bed, the night's events playing in your head still. A smile played on your lips at the thought of seeing your gladiator fight. You waited for your gladiator to file into the arena. As he did, a small smile played on your lips.
“Minerva, let his sword be true,” you whispered. The wind picked up momentarily, brushing past Hanno; they heard your prayer. He fought true and won his battle, Rome was pleased by his winning. Hanno looked up at the emperor's box and smiled at you before showing his sword. He was showing you his praise, the rest of the box saw this as an act of respect for the emporos. You knew it was only for you.
You simply watched Hanno behind shadows as he trained for the next few days. He knew you were there, but no words could leave your lips around him. Your heart hammed in your chest as you watched him train, or fight. Your growing infatuation was making your life complicated.
Geta strolled into the palace library, seeking to find you. You sat in the far corner, immersed in a book.
“My beloved,” he said, a smile on his face. “Why have you abandoned your duties” “Geta… ”you signed; this was a conversation you did not know how to have. “I…” “Answer me,” the emperor before you commanded you, not the man you knew he shielded himself from.
“I had a moment of weakness not fulfilling those duties.” you told him smoothly, “I shall resume them.” “Good. As the woman I am to marry, you must show me you are loyal.” “As you wish. My Geta,” you told him. He smiled before he kissed your cheek and left the library. The breath you held was released, and you let the book in your hands fall to the floor. Tears fell from your eyes again. Geta was never cruel, but his words cut deep to you like a knife. Those words of duty and obligation stung like a bee. You were haunted by the duty and life that was forced upon you, something inside you wished to flee. Your maid rushed to your side, plying your hands from your face to wipe the tears that fell.
“Shhh, mistress,” she whispered, “you must not cry in these halls, ears and eyes everywhere.” You wanted only to be held but knew the status between you and the older woman before you forbade it. She held your hand at the sad and pleading look in your eyes for some motherly support.
“I…do not want this role,” you whispered.
“I know, miss. I know. You must please the emperor, or he will punish you,” she told you, “I see him punished. Cruel man.” A small cry fell from your lips; the idea of seeing who he is beyond the Geta you have seen scared you.
Those next few days, you did as asked and never left Geta’s side. You made your smile look like jewels to Geta and the others in his company. You did everything right, making Geta lose his interest in seeing your complacency. As the days turned to weeks he slowly lost his interest in you, your complacency, no signs of love, he turned back to his women he had hanging off his throne.
It was not until a few days later that you visited Hanno in Ludus. You slipped into his cell. He turned from the wall he faced to find you lifting your head to meet his eyes.
“You are back,” he said, walking over.
“Yes,” you were firm in your answer before you deflated. “I needed to escape.”
“Escape? From where?” he asked, motioning for you to sit in the small bed he had been given. You shook your head, not ready to tell him of the life you know others would grab for.
“Why did you look at me that way in the arena?” You asked him. He glanced up at you.
“You should not ask that,” he said softly.
“I will ask. Hanno, I need to know,” you told him, almost pleading with the man before you to tell you why he had a slight look of love and familiarity in his eyes.
“Your eyes. Your smile. Reminded me of my wife who passed,” he told you, interrupting your voice. “I felt a connection, and I wanted to…I wanted to be with you, see what it was”
“I am sorry about your wife” you said in response. “I too...wanted to be with you”
“You have the emperor.” his voice was still tired as he spoke. Reminding the both of you of the obligations you were given.
“I do not love him. I do not wish to be with him,” you told him
“Then why are you?” he asked, curious about your life.
“Not my wish. My father sold me to him…I fought that night to not go,” you told him, words turning from anger to sadness. Hanno's hand landed on your knee. The callouses felt good against your soft skin. Your eyes met his.
“We are both here not of our own will,” he told you, filling your soul with understanding. You sat with Hanno for a while before bidding on your goodbyes. You looked back at him when you left; love looked back.
The next time you visit was when Hanno sat outside on the training grounds. You watched the sun sink lower and lower into the horizon.
“Why do you keep visiting me?” you glanced back twords the man beside you. Those tired eyes filled with more life as the moments passed.
“You see me,” you told him, “no…obligations are required when i am with yo.u”
“What else?” he asked, knowing there was more behind your words.
“You are the only one to see me, truly see me,” you told him, “not as some senator's daughter or the emperor betrothed…I do not have to be perfect when I am with you, I can just be”
“You are simply y/n,” he told you, “you are yourself; you are not defined by your father or your position.” “I wish that to be so,” you said sadly. The weight of your life and position felt like the most significant challenge you had. You knew he understood; you could feel your souls connecting more and more.
“I escaped my position long ago,” he said quietly, “I fear after returning to Rome, I must soon take that position again.”
“May I ask what position?”
“In time,” he told you, smiling sadly. You nodded, understanding the desire to hide parts of himself. To be seen was intimate, and he was not yet there. You placed a hand on top of his, causing his eyes to lift to yours.
“I am here whenever you wish to tell me more…But I must go before I am looked for” you told him. You stood, still holding his hand, he turned it to grasp yours. He smiled a sad tired smile. You nodded your head as a bid goodbye and left his side. The walk back to your prison had never felt so cold and lonely before.
It was days beofre you went back, knowing your visits were drawing more eyes on you than you intended to. This may have to be your last one for quite some time. As you walked to meet with Hanno, he grasped your hand.
“What is wrong,” you asked him. Tired, scared, and anxious eyes looked at you.
“You should not have come.” “What? Why?” you asked worried
“There is…a plan happening, and your being here will put you in danger.” “Hanno. What plan?” you glanced behind you twords the other cells and guards.
“Remember I told you I left my position here in Rome,” he said, causing your eyes to lock back in with his. He has his hands on your arms, keeping your attention on him. “I do.” In your response, you looked into his blue eyes hesitantly.
“This position…was the prince of Rome. My name, my true name is Lucious Verus Aurelius.” “You…Lucious?” you asked he smiled something unique. Recognition with his name when it came from your lips, like that name was meant to be spoken by you.
“Yes. Y/n” “I cannot believe it”
The night was spent with him retelling his history to you and the stories he lobed in the colonies across the Mediterranean. He spoke of the people, their beliefs, and the difference between there and Rome. The world beyond Rome's white marble sounded divine. You were swept up in his stories, his eyes, and the lips that kissed you before you left the cell.
“Lucious” “Promise you will keep yourself safe,” he asked of you, forehead on yours. Red lips speaking to you.
“As safe as I can be,” you told him, knowing that the gods would only decide your fate. Another kiss from the man-made your world spin again. As you left, a smile played on your lips back to your gloomy home.
“Where have you been my betrothed?” Geta asked you as he came walking down twords you. He plucked the book from your hand, causing you to face Geta.
“I have been here,” you told him. His eyes track your every move. He kept looking at you, disappointment was evident.
“You lie to me. Your emperor,” he told you, a scrolling voice filled the library. Your maid backed away further into the room.
“I…” you stuttered, unable to find your voice for a reason.
“You think it does not know about the escapades you partake in?” Geta asked you gesturing to the world outside of the palace. Your head hung low. Worry filled your head, scared he may be the man everyone fears he is. Cruel and unkind.
“I shall show you why you do not mess with me,” he said. He took your arm in his hands and dragged you away. You looked back as you were pulled away from the library; your maid wept at your leaving. As you looked forward, tears slowly fell from your eyes. That moment you knew would come of your desire to be outside the palace had come.
You walked out onto the emperor's box landing. There you stood, chained and beaten. Tiny droplets of blood had dried in the corner of your mouth, your cheeks were bruised, and your hair had seen better days. There were minor cuts and bruises along your arms that were not covered by the dress you were strapped in. Once in the stands, the people around you could see. You glanced down at the pits, knowing that when Lucious came out of those wooden gates and saw you, he may try to do something he shouldn't. The crowd grew loud in the stands, many not knowing why they stood in chains. As those mighty doors opened and Lucious stepped out you wished to scream to him to run. A whimper escaped you when he faced you, the other gladiators entering faded into the background. You watched his face contort with anger; your eyes pleaded with him not to do anything.
“Is this what Roman emperors do? Is this how they treat their women?” he yelled out.
“It is what we do with women who are unfaithful,” Geta responded, a coolness about his tone and words. You were pulled towards him, crashing into his body. He held your arms and chains tight in his hands. You wanted to cry, scream, and beg someone to set you free. “We must show them that whoever they choose to be with instead of their betrothed…must be killed”.
“No…no, please,” you whispered, begging around the cuff of your neck. You tried to turn to Geta to beg him to not hurt Lucious, but when you looked, your throat closed. He was looking at Lucious, already figuring out what man you had been seeing. The viscous nature of Geta, which you had heard so much about, was finally presented to you. You looked back twords Lucious, those tears you tried your best to hide slowly fell down your cheeks.
If only you could know how Lucious felt in that moment, watching you be made a villain by the emperor, watching you chained and without freedom. He felt what you felt, every last emotion.
Geta pulled at the chains around your neck to take your eyes off Lucious. Tears now streamed down your face. “You would rather a gladiator, a slave, than me”, he screamed. His face is red with anger, and he looked at you.
“Yes,” you responded, eyes moving to try and look twords your gladiator. There, Lucious stood proudly watching you as you told the man who had taken you from your home and told you were to marry him without any freedom that you had your freedom to love. Lucious moved closer to the box.
“You should let her go,” Lucious said, “You do not own her.” Many in the crowd started cheering for him, their favorite gladiator. Geta looked stunned by the words leaving Lucious mouth. He looked at the crowd, which was turning into a mob of people yelling twords the emperor to let you go free. The archers around the walls turned onto the people, unsure what to do. Geta himself looked clueless.
“I am your emperor,” he shouted, “my words and actions are permitted by the gods.” “Maybe your gods, but not mine,” Lucious yelled, angling his sword to be thrown twords the box. As he looked into your eyes, you saw the sea's calm. You released all tension in your limbs and focused just on him.
Everything changed, however, when General Acacious stormed into the Colosseum with his army. It was as Lucious had said; his family had planned something. The entire might of General Acacius' army stood in the Coliseum, and the emperors looked down in horror. Geta was now lost more, and it looked like he wanted to run. That's when the gladiators in the arena charged twords the emperor's army. No one was allowed to choose a side or talk before fighting erupted. Geta let your chains go; the weight pulled you down a little. You picked them up, allowing you to see the chaos around you. With all the men and swords, you lost sight of Lucious. Before long, one of the guards aimed a sword at you, and you looked at him wide-eyed. Before he could do anything to you, a sword burst from his chest; the guard looked down in shock before he collapsed. Lucious stood behind the man, proud and angry. The day's emotions caught up to you, and you collapsed into his arms.
“It's alright now,” he spoke to you. The clashing of swords and loud voices filled the space around you. “I am here now.” You looked up into his eyes; a small smile danced on his face.“What has got you so happy?” “You. Saving you and being able to do that…”You could tell that he was finally able to save someone, someone special, and healed something inside of himself. He smiled at you, bright and happy. Freedom never looked so good, especially since freedom meant being with Lucious. As the fight continued in the arena, neither of you were concerned.
#lucius verus x you#lucius versus x reader#lucius verus x reader#lucius verus#gladiator x reader#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#gladiator movie#paul mescal#gladiator ll
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juju smut and ill give u a big fat kiss
EARNED IT — juju watkins
CONTENT WARNINGS — smut , cunnilingus , car sex , slightly intoxicated sex
It'd been a long day, work have been tough and you missed your girlfriend and friends, which is why you all decided to go out tonight. The music was loud and lights were blaring right time all of you walked into the club. The air was thick with scents of perfume, sweat, and alcohol.
Your friends had already gotten a small table near the dance floor and you could see them moving along to the music, their faces already flushed red. Your girlfriend, Juju was standing a few feet away from you, her caramel skin glistening under the flashing lights as she kept an eye on all of you, watching as you and your friends took shot after shot of tequila.
Suddenly, Juju moved by all of them before grabbing your hand. "C'mon babe, I need some air." She shouted over the music, before gesturing to the exit. Of course, you followed willingly as the two of you stepped out the club. The cool night air hitting your damp skin.
She pulled you towards her car before backing you up against the side of her car, her eyes glinting with mischief and desire in the moonlight. "What are you up to?" you giggled as your hands slid down to her back, pulling her close to you.
She smirked before leaning forward and whispering into your ear. "I just want to have some fun, if you know what I mean.." She trailed off as she nipped at your ear before trailing open-mouthed kisses down your throat.
"Get in the car." she ordered before pulling away from your neck, opening the back door for you. The two of you climbed in, giggling as she slid beside you. Before you could say anything, she was on you, her hands roaming your curves as she kissed you hard, her tongue invading your mouth as you moaned.
Juju broke the kiss before trailing her kisses down your neck again, sucking and biting at your skin. Her hands pushing up your skirt and grabbing your inner thighs as she moaned lowly. "Fuck, I want to taste you so bad."
In a flash, she was between your legs, pushing them apart as she pulls your panties off. She licked her lips at the sight of your glistening pussy. "You're so fucking wet, baby.." Without any warning she dove in, licking a long strip up to your clit. You cried out and arched your back slightly, your breath quivering.
Her tongue moving aimlessly against your folds, moving up to flick against your clit making your hips buck against her face. She gripped your thighs tightly, holding you in place as she sucked on your clit, her eyes locked onto yours.
She doesn't let up, suckling your clit and thrusting her tongue deep inside you as you cried out for her. Your orgasm built up fast, the pleasure overwhelming. You were right on the edge when she thrusted two fingers deep inside of you.
You cried out, your back arching off the seats again as she began pumping them inside of you. Her tongue never stopping its assault on your clit.
"F-Fuck! Please don't stop!" you squirmed slightly, tangling your fingers in her hair as you pull her closer to you. Your thighs began to tremble, your stomach tightening as she you got closer.
One more curl of her fingers and a suck at your clit had your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your pussy clenched tightly around her fingers, your orgasm crashing over you. Your juices gushing out and coating her chin and hand but she didn't stop, she continued to lap at your cunt, drawing out your high as you thrashed to get away.
As the aftershocks began to subside, she started to slow her movements. She pressed soft kisses to your thighs before gently removing her fingers. You let out a whimper as your chest heaved, trying to catch your breath.
She sat up, licking your juices from her fingers before pulling you into a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on her tongue as you kissed back fiercely, your hands roaming her body.
Breaking the kiss, she rested her forehead against yours, a smirk on her face. "That was so fucking hot, baby.. Can't wait to get get you home."
୨୧ taglist
@mrsarnold @yannasuniverse @guiltyascaitlin
#sweetbcgs#juju watkins#juju watkins x reader#juju watkins x reader smut#smut#womens basketball#wlw#lesbian#usc trojans
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Knightorder 141 x f!reader Part 4
In Health and Sickness
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
When your sister got the news of your new bodyguards she couldn't stop swooning over her new found luck. You had to remind her that she is already spoken for, her fiancé would not appreciate how she is talking about these men. But you had to admit that you could not stop the happiness coiling in your stomach. Now you would be able to see them more often, maybe even getting to know Simon and Price better.
The weather was getting colder during this time of the year, but you didn't stop your walks in the garden like before. With the company of one of the men at all time you were always in good spirits. With time you started to open up more, being braver to show your character in front of them. At one of these walks you mentioned how it was getting colder by the day, wrapping your jacket closer around yourself.
"Ya ken i cuid jus' make ya a scarf if you would lek? Am not that good yet but cuid try?" taken of guard you looked back up at Johnny, learning something new about him. Besides you were still getting used to his accent, even if he was trying to speak very clearly.
"You knit? I would not take you for the type." you wonder how he even started, it was not something men did typically.
Something in your gaze must have shown your wonder, Johnnys ears getting a pinch red, "Aye, if ya live with a bunch of Chaps ya hev to get creative summtimes, ti's good for keeping myself busy n'all."
You take pity on the men who seems a little bashful about his hobby being discovered, giggling a little about the shy look he is giving you. It is adorable how happy he gets when you agree to his offer. Naturally slinging a arm around your shoulder, happily walking along side you. You tense but relax after a second, noticing how he seems to smirk when he realizes. Even thru his vest you can fell the bulking muscles around your shoulder. You never were so close to a man, and Johnny was touching you a lot more often since becoming your bodyguard. You tried not to think to deeply about it, having seen him acting that way towards the other men of his order, as well.
When you both get back to your room Simon is already there. Ready to take over guard for the evening and night. He greets you again with a nod, like always. Johnny excuses himself, not without sharing a emotional gaze with Simon. You couldn't fully decipher the tension between them. When turning to go into your room is when you have an idea. Since some time now you wanted to get the change to talk to Simon. To hear that gravely, deep voice addressed towards yourself. This could be your chance. "Sir Simon, why don't we share a cup of tea?" You notice him tensing, his gaze towards the ground. "That would not be appropriate for someone like me, my lady." For a moment you freeze, seeing how offering something like that might be taken as an offence. "I didn't mean it in ill will, i just wanted a moment in company." for a moment you are afraid he might still take offence. For a moment he is silent, then you can see his mask shifting...a smile? "I didn't take offence my lady, but i am not of noble birth, just like my brothers in arm." For a moment you had to let the information sink in. His brown eyes seeming to see right trough you. Giving you a moment to understand. "Even more impressive seem your Achievements." This in turn takes im aback, to often where the Imitate reactions of pity or embarrassment. With this it seems like Simon is taking something into consideration, slightly tilting his head while studying your form. It got you shifting slightly from on foot to the other. "Then how about this, i sit while you enjoy a cuppa, may lady?" The unfamiliar word takes you by surprise, but you still get the message. He really agreed. You have to hold yourself back to just clap your hands happily. Not wanting to spook him away again.
One of the Maids brings you a cup of tea. You enjoy the floral aroma and the relaxing warm of the cup on your hands. You had offered Simon a seat but he refused, saying he was comfortable standing. You let him be, slowly understanding how some of his actions, kind of rude on first glance, where really just showing what an upright and honorable men he was. You fully enjoy the conversation you are having. At some point you realize that Simon is quit a Fan of the darkest and driest Humor you have ever heard. In the flow of your exchange of pointless jokes about the latest drama and gossip in the royal court, is when he surprises you with a unexpected question. "What animal would you never trust in your life?" For the first moment you laugh, not sure what to make of the question but Simon doesn't elaborates further. So you think for a little moment. "Mhm, i think possibly a wolf." His gaze stays on you. "Why is that?" You look back at him, it seems as if he is really interested in your answer. "When i grew up our nanny told us a lot of fairy tales, i was always scared of the big, bad wolf." You trail and after a moment of silence Simon talks again. "Yes i can see that, my nanna told me a lot of story's, too. But I liked the ones with the little fairy's the most..." And just like that the flow of the conservation picks up again. With Simon's position and his ability to blend into his surrounding you are not surprised how much information and gossip he has heard from the nobles. What does surprise you is how much he likes to gossip about it as well. At the End of your talk you know exactly who is having an affair, who is an alcoholic, in debt and many other things. You already dread the day you have to meet these nobles again, hopefully you are able to keep a straight face...
The next morning you wake up with your whole body feeling heavy, your head is pounding and you can feel how dry and painful your throat is. You wish now you had worn warmer clothes over the last few days. The scarf from Johnny would have helped, too. Over the next few days it doesn't get better. According to the doctor you developed a fever, slipping out and in into a half Waking state. You barely register how your bodyguards slip in and out of the room. At some point you could swear you felt Price's hand on your cheek. At some other point there were Kyle and Johnny standing next to you watching your form, talking to themselves in small voices. Maybe the fever makes you see things because why would your bodyguards be with you in the night? They are lingering at the edges of your vision, sometimes you think you are feeling their hands on you, on your face, your hands, your neck.
When you wake up days later, the sun is already high in the sky. Nobody is in your room. You look towards your nightstand, a glass of water together with a empty bowl sitting there. And next to it is something unexpected. You pick the little wooden figure up from the nightstand. It is smooth to the touch, showing the time spend on carving it. Finely made, a little wooden wolf is laying in your hand.
#task force 141#cod men#drabble#cod 141#cod x reader#tf 141 x reader#john price#simon ghost riley#johnny soap mactavish#gaz kyle garrick#knights#cod
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Another G/T AU Idea, but Billy Batson style.
This little idea has alot of dark implications, more on the side of dehumanisation.
Billy Batson is a borrower, an almost forgotten species often believed to not even be real, just a made up a creature from a book.#
Billy had parents who taught him a lot about how to survive without borrowing, but then he asked them something for his birthday, something they couldn’t farm, that they would have to borrower.
His mother kissed him goodbye and his father told him ill see you later champ.
There was no later,he waited and waited until he realised one day they weren’t coming back.
It wasn’t until much later when he realised that his parents were most likely killed by humans, mistaken for a rodent perhaps, and gotten rid of as such.
Billy struggled to survive; he tried to remember what his parents taught him, but he often felt like he was slowly forgetting not just every lesson but them as well.
Driven by necessity, not choice, he stole, his mind plagued by the fear of getting caught and what happened to his parents happening to him.
But one day, that all changed when he saw a group of humans beat up an older homeless man.
He waited until the group of humans to disappear; and right before they did, they took everything from the older man.
Despite his fear of humans, he couldn’t watch someone suffer. So he quietly jumped down and, using up all his supplies he had borrower he patched him up as best as he could before hesitantly leaving a big piece of bread for the older man, well it was probably looked more like a crumb to the human.
But Billy learnt every little helped, but before he could make his getaway, the human spoke to him, spooking him in the process; he would later learn this would be a test from the wizard and the older man was named Tawky Tawny.
He was taken through a subway in the human’s pocket and he watched in amazement as the world around them seemed to change; he was less impressed when he realised they were in a dank, dark cave.
Then he meet the wizard,he told billy to say his name, and he did.
And from that very moment everything changed, he became not only a fully grown adult, but a fully grown human adult, with magic.
Finally, he got to explore the vast world without being scared to be seen, not only that, but he got to save people and others, something he used to dream of happening to him.
He couldn’t think his life could get better until the Justice League invited him to join the team; he stopped world-ending threats, became a valued member.
He never thought he would mean anything to a human, let alone hundreds.
Well, Captain Marvel is a valued not so much Billy Batson’s.The world didn’t even seem to know he exist which was good; who knew what they would do to him, a borrower.
And then his entire world came crashing down, he was hit with a spell that not only trapped him in his mind but a living nightmare of his own worst fear that involved members of the league and what they would do to him once finding out, which seemed to be how he imagined his parents were killed.
Enough time passed, to the point it concerned all league members enough to warrant calling in Dr.Fate and he confirmed that Captain Marvel was trapped and they need to find him and tell him whatever he seeing isn’t real. Since the captain trusted them, their presents there would be enough.
No one would know what they would find. And what secrets would be revealed?
(Just a little drabble of an AU idea. Grammar police fuck of, and do send ask if you have any.)
#billy batson#batman#justice league#dc g/t#borrower billy batson#a bit dark of an au idea.#borrower batson#you know I don’t edit when I’m tired#Drabble
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How i think arcane s2 fumbled Viktor. Coming from a disabled person
Not proofread we die like all my favorite characters
As previously mentioned, I struggle with chronic pain. I have POTs and probably EDS now that I think about it, and I use a cane on bad days since at times walking long distances is very painful
I started watching arcane shortly after discovering my own disability and I was SO happy to see a well represented disabled character, guess who my favorite character is (hard mode)
Anytime there’s someone with a physical disability represented in modern media, they’re never allowed to just… be disabled, casually. Yes disability massively affects and changes one’s live immensely, but it’s not the only all-encompassing trait of their personality. A lot of the time when I see a disabled character, they’re just there to be disabled. They don’t get a character arc outside of their disability… or much of a personality either
And sometimes having a characters arc revolve around a disability is acceptable, but it’s not ok to have a token disabled character and do nothing else with their plot line. Disability is allowed to be a part of their story, but it doesn’t have to be the whole story. Make your disabled characters people with a disability, not a blank slate token character.
And that’s why I was so pleased with Viktor in season one. He exists With his disability, not despite it. It was very refreshing to a character have a very defined personality and purpose outside being a token disabled character. Yes of course his disability is a huge part of his story, but it’s not the entire story.
Now how did s2 fumble?
In s1 I think viktors descent into illness was well written, I was kind of expecting his disability to be a big part of his overall character arc in the first place (as it so often is) but in s2 I feels like the writers almost forgot that Viktor was dying of cancer … not trying to perfect himself
I was so excited to see what s2 did with his character arc, and I just ended up.. disappointed. On surface level i loved Jesus!viktor just as much as the next fan, but when you dig deeper into his story it felt so icky
Whenever a disabled person is represented, not only does their character arc revolve around disability, it has to revolve around “fixing” said disability. And a big pattern I see is many character arcs having an undertone of radical acceptance. I.e “you where never broken, you just needed to accept yourself” “you just need to love your disability as a part of you”
No… you don’t have to love the part of you that’s actively causing you pain and lowering your quality of life, or actively killing you like Viktors terminal illness.
Self acceptance with disability is all fine and dandy, but it is SO overplayed and overwritten. You’re allowed to be frustrated with your disability, and learn to move past it.
The big point is Viktor was never trying to “perfect” himself in s1, he was trying to live.
In s2 they took the idea of Viktor working to cure his terminal illness and ran with it. They blew his arc so wildly out of proportion until he literally became a god obsessed with “perfecting” all of humanity.
And that just felt.. icky. It didn’t feel like Viktor. The Viktor in s1 had a dream of helping his people, of using his creations to uplift everyone! He never would have wanted to force all of humanity into “evolving” without their consent. And do not even get me STARTED on how he completely lost his autonomy to the hexcore, and in turn took it from so many people. That deserves a post on its own
I was so excited for the arcane writers to do something creative with his character arc, but no. Once again a disabled character fell victim to their entire arc being about fixing their disability, only to end with radical self love and acceptance
And the thing is I could get behind an arc of Viktor healing! He deserves to heal and live his life happy and healthy, but to me and him all of a sudden obsessed with “perfection” felt completely out of left field
I think my biggest problem with season 2 overall is that it lost sight of the entire theme of the show. Season one was a beautiful statement about classism, segregation, and how differently it affects people. It was representing real world problems on a scale we could understand. And the best part about s1 was that everyone on the main cast was relatively morally grey, they were humans who had realistic flaws, and made mistakes.
Nobody was shoved into a traditional “good guy/bad guy” box, and that made the show feel so much more real.
S2 was rushed, and for some reason the writers said “actually never mind, we’re going to bend everyone’s morals out of proportion so we can have a big bad villian we all fight at the end”
It had an overwhelming undertone of “forgive your oppressors so we can come together against a common enemy” which felt like a massive slap in the face to everyone who’s actually experience the classism and poverty that arcane represented in s1
I think so many of the problems with s2 could have been fixed or at least explained in detail if we got a s3. I understand as a writer myself that would have been a long, and expensive process that the arcane producers weren’t willing to go through. But I can’t help but mourn the story we could have had if the writers were just allowed to spend more time on it.
Overall, I could write an essay picking apart every tiny detail of arcane in general, so I’ll stop here. I just needed to get this rant out in writing and out of my head, I’m so insanely disappointed and mildly insulted with how the arcane writers treated Viktor, who had such potential
Feel free to share your opinions or completely disagree with me in the comments, please be kind as this is just my humble analysis and opinion.
#arcane#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends#arcane league of lesbians#arcane jayvik#arcane viktor#viktor league of legends#the machine herald#viktor arcane#arcane rant#rant post#arcane critical#arcane analysis
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Fang AU: Infection
Sooooo this is yet another extension of scene I wrote for the Fang AU created by @trilobitepunch, based on a request from @psychologicalwarclaire. Its starting to become something of a trend for me. Anyway, hope you all enjoy. Props and thanks, as always, to trilobug for letting me play around with her amazing creation, and curly for enabling me.
Hamato Leonardo knew himself to be a turtle of many enviable talents. Out-of-this-world charisma, rugged good looks, hilarious, a tactical mind and a resourceful field medic. The whole package. Except, he was not a scientist. He'd never had the patience or the attention span for fiddly formulas, obsessive note-taking, and tedious repetition needed for an experiment to be successful. As the team’s leader and face man, Leo thrived in the gray, mixing information and spontaneity, tweaking and twisting to ensure the outcome he wanted came to pass. Science was Donnie's world. His egg-headed twin thrived in black and white; relying on repetition, craved clearly defined variables, delighting in percentiles and predictability. That was what balanced them in the end, what made them tick as twins. Brainiac and face man, street smarts and book smarts, innovation and invention.
And maybe that was why he was struggling now, sitting hunched over his secret pile of medical books, scowling as he compared them to the ones April had brought from the library. Squinting at tiny, cramped print as his head pounded, forcing eyes crusted from lack of sleep to open to absorb the paragraphs detailing anatomy, herpetology, and epidemiology, alongside pictures that were various degrees of uselessness. This was Donnie’s world, and maybe he would have enjoyed this torment. Maybe, his twin could make sense of these "viral counts" and "impact percentiles ". Maybe, if his twin weren't strapped to the bed behind him, delirious and writhing in pain, they could have already fixed whatever this thing was.
"Shell," Leo groaned, throwing down his pencil as one hand rose to rub his tired eyes.
He was going to get crow's feet and fine lines from glaring at these useless books, things he could (loudly) tolerate if they were to result in a solution to whatever plaguing their purple brother. But they hadn’t so far. Days of effort, nights of burning well past the midnight oil, and all he had to show for his efforts was a splitting headache and a massive collection of unwashed tea mugs. None of Donnie's symptoms matched with anything detailed in the textbooks, or CDC and WHO websites. Given the creepy level of the lab they'd wreaked, it wasn’t truly that surprising, even if it was frustrating. There was, shockingly, not a lot of published research on mutants, let alone their illnesses or immune systems. But, illnesses didn't just come out of nowhere! He didn't need a fancy piece of paper or a Donnie-level IQ to know that. Whatever was ailing Donnie had to be documented somewhere. But he was a field medic for pizza's sake! He knew how to set bones, sew up cuts, and head off infections. Not cellular biology!
Throwing his hands up in defeat, he slouched back into his desk chair. Maybe Mikey was right. Maybe it was time to call in Draxum, much as Leo would rather eat a bucket of nails or light fire to all his limited-edition JJ comics than say it out loud. Mad scientist psycho or not, the Yokai understood a lot more than Leo did, in this one area anyway. And while they were at it, maybe they’d been looking at things all wrong. If a science-based solution wasn’t available, maybe a mystic solution could help? It would be the most delicious kind of irony, given Donnie’s historic skepticism of anything mystical or magical. Maybe their father could take a trip to the mystic library, or they could send one of the Casey’s to Witch Town. So long as they didn't drop Donnie's name in any conversations it would probably be...
A pained snarl cut through his thoughts, and he whirled the chair around to find Donnie bucking against his restraints, head thrown back in a terrible arc as he gasped for air.
"Whoa! Easy D!" Leo exclaimed, jumping out of his seat to reach for the oxygen mask and tank that April and Casey Jr had kindly "liberated" from April's school following the Krang invasion. "Just keep breathing man, in and out."
His twin hissed in response, pants deepening to a guttural growl as Leo approached and attempted to press the mask over Donnie's nose and mouth.
"Come on man, you're doing great. This is going to help you do even better, so chill out a little and I'll-"
Faster than lightning Donnie struck, neck muscles stretched and strained as he ducked around the mask and sunk his teeth deep into the flesh of Leo's forearm.
"OW!" Leo yelled, the oxygen mask slipping from his fingers as they spasmed open in shock. "Dee, let go!"
Donatello snarled in reply, sharp teeth sinking and shredding as his jaws clamped down on Leo's limb.
"Get…OFF!" Leo bellowed, jamming the thumb of his free hand into the pressure point just behind the soft shell’s jaw. It took way longer than it should have for Donatello’s teeth to release him, too many long, painful seconds before Leo could pull his arm away and stumble back a step from the bed, cradling his injured limb close. Torn flesh burned against the open air, pain licking out from fingertip to elbow while small crimson streams braided into rivers as they raced across his skin to follow gravity to the floor.
“What the shell?!” Leo snapped, free hand clamping down over the injury as he stumbled towards the cabinet that held their stock of bandages. Donnie hissed again in reply, and Leo had to fight the urge to cringe away from the way his blood smeared across his brothers lips and chin, the way it painted his sharp teeth when said lips peeled back in a snarl. Dark eyes followed every jerky move as he fumbled with trying to disinfect and wrap the wound with one hand, breaths hitching as the pain in his arm built, creeping like the most agonizing ivy towards his shoulder. Slitted predator pupils zeroed in one the…wait…Donnie didn’t have slitted pupils. None of them did. Their eyes had always been human…
“What the…”
He didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. Between one breath and the next the pain exploded, lancing up his neck and spearing deep into his chest. His jaw snapped shut around a cry as every nerve in his body seemed to simultaneously go up in flames, numb and useless legs folding like a house of cards as he hit the concrete floor of the med bay. He tried to break his fall, but his body failed to respond to any desperate command his brain tried to send. He tried to call for help, or maybe just scream, but his lungs couldn’t pull in the air he needed. He was trapped, a silently writhing vessel slowly filling up with pain.
Words dissolved. Not just words, but the very concept of speaking drained away, skewered by pain and caught by an strange continuous croon that kept pulling him in. Dragging him down, down, down, a silent and deadly riptide wrapped around his ankles. It hurt... it hurt...
Hurt. Pain! Painpainpainpain! Scared. Alone. Alonealonealonealon-
Here.
The crooning grew louder, building and rebounding until it vibrated in his bone marrow. It rushed in to smother his scalded tissues, knitting into his nervous system. It was all around him. It was him.
Fear!
Here.
Fearpain!
Comprehend. Herecomfort.
Here? Comfort?
Affirmation. Herecomfort. Heretogether.
Together…
Like a lighthouse in a storm the notion split through the chaos, neatly severing his mind from the inferno still warping his flesh and bones. It reeled him in, no longer a rip tide but a now a much welcomed life line that he clung to. The crooning became a pleasant hum in his mind, stripping away the burden of thought and feeling, wrapping his synapsis in cotton wool before pressing him down, down, down…
He was not alone.
No
They did not need fear.
Never
They were…
Together.
Like a key in a lock it fell into place, cemented and unshakable as the very cosmos themselves. For a while all they could do was be, ignoring bodies that distantly stilled their writhing. Together ran in an unending circuit between them, euphorically triumphant as each rebound grew louder and louder.
Togethertogethertogethertogethertogethertogether.
Togetherhappy!
Agreed. Togetherhappy. Togethercomplete.
Completecomplete…Complete…Complete?
Like a grain of sand in an oyster, the question grew, streaking their prior enthusiasm with jagged lines of frenetic frustration.
Not complete.
Not complete!
Need…Needwhat?
Needmore…moretogether…
Moretogether. Moretogether! Moremoremoremore….
Whatmore?
Compute…
Like a flower blossoming in double time an image appeared before them. Red and green. Green and Orange. Silver-Brown. Smooth scales, soft fur. Love…Family…
Family…
Familytogether.
Needfamilytogether!
As though by invisible cue, two familiar scents hit their noses, bodies inhaling synchronously. Red and orange. Close. They needed them. They needed to complete together. They needed to-
Needsearch.
Needbite.
Bitebitebitebite!
They both froze a new scent hit their noses. Sweeter than Red and Orange. Warmer. Softer…
Human.
Slitted eyes opening simultaneously, the world kaleidoscope into prisms as they looked at each other from above and below. Humans. Humans were near together. Unacceptable.
Hunt. Kill.
They rose from the floor on silent legs, making their way to sever the ties that held them bound to the bed.
Seek. Bite.
They rose, bodies fluid and soundless as the slunk into the gloom beyond the door. Their objectives were clear. It was time.
Go.
#angst fairy writes#rottmnt#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt leo#trilo fang au#Help this au has invaded my brain space
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Viktor Didn’t Just Want to Live—He Wanted to Be Remembered (And Piltover Took That from Him)
Viktor’s illness in Arcane is one of those things that people talk about, but I feel like they only scratch the surface. Yeah, it’s tragic, yeah, it’s why he pushes Hextech so hard, but the way it actually shapes him. His mindset, his relationships, the way he exists in the world is so much deeper than just “he doesn’t want to die.”
Like, Viktor isn’t just running out of time—he feels it, every second of every day. He doesn’t get the luxury of patience, of hesitation, of slow and careful progress. People frame his desperation as a descent into obsession, but let’s be real; when your body is literally failing you and you’re one of the smartest people alive, of course you’re going to throw yourself into your work. What else is he supposed to do? Accept it? Lie down and die? He’s been sick since childhood, and you can see how that shaped him into someone who refuses to waste even a second.
And that’s why his relationship with Jayce is so painful to watch. Jayce is idealistic. He believes in progress, but in a way that’s manageable, controlled. Jayce is thinking about the future in terms of decades. Viktor? He doesn’t have decades. Every time Jayce hesitates, whether it’s about Hextech, about the ethics of what they’re doing, about the council’s approval, it’s not just frustrating for Viktor, it’s terrifying. Every delay, every “we need more time,” feels like another nail in his coffin. And the real tragedy? Viktor knows Jayce cares. He knows Jayce wants to help. But Jayce has the privilege of time, and Viktor doesn’t. That’s a gap that love and friendship alone can’t fix.
And here’s my hot take: Viktor’s biggest fear isn’t just dying. It’s dying without proving he mattered. His whole life, he’s been seen as weak, as fragile, as someone people pity. Hextech isn’t just about survival for him—it’s about legacy. It’s about making sure that when he’s gone, the world will remember him as something more than a sickly kid from the Undercity. And when you look at it that way, his whole arc stops being a “tragic downfall” and starts looking like the only path that ever made sense for him. Because if the alternative is fading away into nothing? Then yeah, of course he’s going to push further. Of course he’s going to risk everything. Because at least if he goes out, he goes out leaving something behind.
And that’s why the fact that people took Viktor’s name off Hextech is actually one of the most tragic things in the show. Like, Hextech wasn’t just some invention for him, it was his life’s work, his legacy, the thing that was supposed to make sure he was remembered. He built that with Jayce. It was supposed to be the proof that he mattered.
And then the second he wasn’t there to fight for his place in history? They erased him.
They didn’t just take away credit. They took away the one thing that kept him going, the thing that made all of his sacrifices mean something. Hextech was supposed to outlive him, and in a way, that was supposed to be his version of immortality. But now? Now it’s just “Jayce Talis’ great invention,” and Viktor is nothing more than a footnote.
Like, imagine dedicating your entire existence to something, burning yourself down to nothing just to make a mark on the world, only for people to turn around and act like you were never there to begin with. That’s not just tragic—it’s devastating. And the worst part? Viktor probably saw it coming. Because deep down, he always knew he wasn’t the kind of person history remembers.
#viktor arcane#arcane#viktor my beloved#jayce is too good#jayce talis#jayce x viktor#piltover i hate your guts#viktor i love you#poor viktor
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