#can we build a community to protect him

[toddsmind-neilssoul]

[heebiegeebee]

Maaaaaan...

...takes a lotta damn nerve to be standing right in front of me, with my very obviously jewish outfit, look me right in the eye, and start talking about how your jewish landlord fucked you over.

[mariacallous]

It is over and everything is lost. This is the refrain repeated by Armenian families as they take that final step across the border out of their home of Nagorno-Karabakh.

In just a handful of days more than 100,000 people, almost the entire Armenian population of the breakaway enclave, has fled fearing ethnic persecution at the hands of Azerbaijani forces. The world barely registered it. But this astonishing exodus has vanished a self-declared state that thousands have died fighting for and ended a decades-old bloody chapter of history.

On Saturday, along that dusty mountain road to neighbouring Armenia, a few remaining people limp to safety after enduring days in transit.

Among them is the Tsovinar family who appear bundled in a hatchback littered with bullet holes, with seven relatives crushed in the back. Hasratyan, 48, the mother, crumbles into tears as she tries to make sense of her last 48 hours. The thought she cannot banish is that from this moment forward, she will never again be able to visit the grave of her brother killed in a previous bout of fighting.

“He is buried in our village which is now controlled by Azerbaijan. We can never go back,” the mother-of-three says, as her teenage girls sob quietly beside her.

“We have lost our home, and our homeland. It is an erasing of a people. The world kept silent and handed us over”.

She is interrupted by several ambulances racing in the opposite direction towards Nagorno-Karabakh’s main city of Stepanakert, or Khankendi, as it is known by the Azerbaijani forces that now control the streets. Their job is to fetch the few remaining Karabakh Armenians who want to leave and have yet to make it out.

“Those left are the poorest who have no cars, the disabled and elderly who can’t move easily,” a first responder calls at us through the window. “Then we’re told that’s it.”

As the world focused on the United Nations General Assembly, the war in Ukraine and, in the UK, the felling of an iconic Sycamore tree, a decades old war has reignited here unnoticed.

It ultimately heralded the end of Nagorno-Karabakh, a breakaway Armenian region, that is internationally recognised as being part of Azerbaijan but for several decades has enjoyed de facto independence. It has triggered the largest movement of people in the South Caucasus since the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Azerbaijan has vehemently denied instigating ethnic cleansing and has promised to protect Armenians as it works to reintegrate the enclave.

But in the border town of Goris, surrounded by the chaotic arrival of hundreds of refugees, Armenia’s infrastructure minister says Yerevan was now struggling to work out what to do with tens of thousands of displaced and desperate people.

“Simply put this is a modern ethnic cleansing that has been permitted through the guilty silence of the world,” minister Gnel Sanosyan tells The Independent, as four new busses of fleeing families arrive behind him.

“This is a global shame, a shame for the world. We need the international community to step up and step up now.”

The divisions in this part of the world have their roots in centuries-old conflict but the latest iterations of bitter bloodshed erupted during the collapse of the Soviet Union. The Karabakh Armenians, who are in the majority in the enclave, demanded the right to autonomy over the 4,400 square kilometre rolling mountainous region that has its own history and dialect. In the early 1990s they won a bloody war that uprooted Azerbaijanis, building a de facto state that wasn’t internationally unrecognised.

That is until in 2020. Azerbaijan, backed by Turkey, launched a military offensive and took back swathes of territory in a six-week conflict that killed thousands of soldiers and civilians. Russia, which originally supported Armenia but in recent years has grown into a colder ally, brokered a fragile truce and deployed peacekeepers.

But Moscow failed to stop Baku in December, enforcing a 10-month blockade on Nagorno-Karabakh, strangling food, fuel, electricity and water supplies. Then, the international community stood by as Azerbaijan launched a 24-hour military blitz that proved too much for Armenian separatist forces. Outgunned, outnumbered and weakened by the blockade, they agreed to lay down their weapons.

For 30 years the Karabakh authorities had survived pressure from international powerhouses to give up statehood or at least downgrade their aspirations for Nagorno-Karabakh. For 30 years peace plans brokered by countries across the world were tabled and shelved.

And then in a week all hope vanished and the self-declared government agreed to dissolve.

Fearing further shelling and then violent reprisals, as news broke several Karabakh officials including former ministers and separatist commanders, had been arrested by Azerbaijani security forces, people flooded over the border.

At the political level there are discussions about “reintegration” and “peace” but with so few left in Nagorno-Karabakh any process would now be futile.

And so now, sleeping in tents on the floors of hotels, restaurants and sometimes the streets of border towns, shellshocked families, with a handful of belongings, are trying to piece their lives together.

Among them is Vardan Tadevosyan, Nagorno-Karabakh’s minister of health until the government was effectively dissolved on Thursday. He spent the night camping on the floor of a hotel, and carries only the clothes he is wearing. Exhausted he says he had “no idea what the future brings”.

“For 25 years I have built a rehabilitation centre for people with physical disabilities I had to leave it all behind. You don’t know how many people are calling me for support,” he says as his phone ringed incessantly in the background throughout the interview.

“We all left everything behind. I am very depressed,” he repeats, swallowing the sentence with a sigh.

Next to him Artemis, 58, a kindergarten coordinator who has spent 30 years in Steparankert, says the real problems were going to start in the coming weeks when the refugees outstay their temporary accommodation.

“The Azerbaijanis said they want to integrate Nagorno-Karabakh but how do you blockade a people for 10 months and then launch a military operation and then ask them to integrate?” she asks, as she prepares for a new leg of the journey to the Armenian capital where she hopes to find shelter.

“The blockade was part of the ethnic cleansing. This is the only way to get people to flee the land they love. There is no humanity left in the world.”

Back in the central square of Goris, where families pick through piles of donated clothes and blankets and aid organisations hand out food, the loudest question is: what next?

Armenian officials are busy registering families and sending them to shelters in different corners of the country. But there are unanswered queries about long-term accommodation, work and schooling.

“I can’t really think about it, it hurts too much,” says Hasratyan’s eldest daughter Lilet, 16, trembling in the sunlight as the family starts the registration process.

“All I can say to the world is please speak about this and think about us. We are humans, people made of blood, like you and we need your help.”

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

CAN WE HAVE DOEY BEING A PLATONIC YANDERE TO THE PLAYER?? I WONDER HOW HE WOULD ACT GIVEN HIS CONFLICTING PERSONALITIES AND EMOTIONS DUE TO BEING MADE OUT OF THREE KIDS

Yes, you absolutely can! This ended up being way longer than I first planed and I'm actually pretty proud of it :)

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me.

Platonic yandere Doey & Reader

★ When Doey first meets the Player, he is intrigued. It's not every day you meet someone who keeps cheating the grim reaper. As Doey spends more time with the Player, he realizes that they are different than most employes. You are nice and treat him kindly.

★ His conflicting personalities create a strange mix of curiosity and adoration inside of him. Especially after you stay to help the Safe Haven instead of working with Poppy. Plus, the Player has been through so much already. They really should take a break.

★ He goes above and beyond to make them feel comfortable and secure in their new home. He introduces them to the other toys, making sure they feel included and part of their little community. Tries to help them relax after what they have been through, also.

★Doey becomes emotionally dependent on the Player, deriving a sense of purpose and stability from their presence. The thought of losing the Player or not being able to protect them fills him with fear and anxiety, fueling his yandere tendencies.

★ All three parts of him agree on one thing, protect the Player at all costs. That means not letting them leave the Safe Haven. At least not without him. It comes from a place of genuine care, having concern for the Player's well-being.

★ He prioritizes their needs, ensuring the Player feels safe and loved. If the player were to reciprocate his care by doing things to make him feel valued, it would mean the world to him. If it's not too much, could he pretty please hold your hand? (please say yes)

★ The player's consistent care builds trust between them. That trust is very important. Never break it or you might regret it. Doey is still unstable at times, and he could still lash out at you if the wrong button is pushed.

★ Yandere Doey is very possessive, he is aware of this and tries his best not to be. He really wants to give the Player the freedom they deserve but at the same time he fears losing you to others and may become anxious if you spend too much time with another toy.

★ Those thoughts are silly, he knows it, you would never abandon him for a new friend. However, that nagging voice in his head tells him differently. It may end up with him subtly manipulating the Player. It was for friendship though so it's okay!

★ He might use guilt or even fear to keep the Player close, making them feel responsible for his emotional well-being. The thought of the Player getting hurt when he's gone fills him with all sorts of bad feelings. Ones he doesn't even want to think about.

★ By this time it's too late to go back. He is too afraid of being abandoned, if you suggest going off to finish what you started and killing the prototype he would have a panic attack.

★ His conflicting personalities are unified in their fear of the Player facing danger and he becomes visibly distressed. It's too dangerous! If you leave and never come back, what will he do? Doey may even go as far as physically putting himself between the Player and the exit if it comes down to it.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Dog with No Teeth // Chapter One

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (MDNI): post-apocalypse au, swearing, canon-typical violence, threatening language, death of a minor character

Word Count: 4.6k

On a scavenging run, two unknown groups arrive unannounced. Through the gunfire, you’re separated, cornered, captured. A skull-faced Lieutenant makes a decision, changing your life forever.

Chapter Two

ao3 // main masterlist // dog with no teeth masterlist

Eden is a home.

It is a person. A place. A community

It is the scent of old musty books, and the quiet peace before the rising dawn.

You work by candlelight in the silent hours, an open book resting on the table in front of you. Wearing gloves to protect it, you carefully turn the page, gaze scanning the faded lettering. Most of it is legible, and with some time and care, you’ll be able to replicate it on new paper with fresh ink.

Preservation.

Not of your mortal life and those that live in your community, but the preservation of humanity, culture, and human history. Five years since the world fell apart, and yet you remain, carrying on with purpose, restoring books, transcribing those that are close to falling apart, and keeping records of the years that came before.

It is enjoyable, fulfilling work but you serve a greater need to your community. Here, within your sanctuary of several hundred people, you provide them entertainment and education. The children come to you for picture books and story time, and the adults visit when they need an escape.

You are but one piece of a large whole.

“What are you doing here so early?”

You glance up, smiling at your assistant. “Could ask the same,” you laugh, pushing back from the table. Standing, you remove your gloves and set them next to the book.

Sam, your archiving assistant yawns. “Thought I’d get here early since you’re going out today with Zac and his group.” They rub at their eyes. “Shouldn’t you be at the gate already?”

“Shit,” you mutter, checking the mechanical clock hanging on the wall. Sam is right. You should be at the gate right now. “Double shit,” you groan.

Sam laughs and reaches for their own gloves. “I’ll handle this.” Putting them on, Sam settles into your chair. “We doing a refurb on this?”

“No,” you say, running around the room, grabbing your jacket and backpack. “Some of the pages are too faded. Binding is also bust.”

“Transcribe then,” murmurs Sam, gently closing the book to inspect the integrity of the cover. “Where are you going again?”

“Zac mentioned a small town they scoped out. No activity.” You walk over to Sam, yanking your jacket on. “He said there’s a library.”

Sam’s head pops up. “Seriously?”

You nod excitedly. “Said the place was locked up tight. Windows still intact.”

“Untouched?” asks Sam, eyebrows rising in surprise. You nod. Sam whistles lowly. “What a fucking find.”

“I know!” you exclaim. “Could really use some encyclopedias.”

“And dictionaries,” adds Sam longingly.

Tugging on the front of your jacket and then smoothing the front, you zip it up. “Zac said I can bring back as much as I want.”

“Did he really?” Sam shakes their head and opens the front cover of the book. “That man is sweet on you.”

“Which is why I take advantage,” you giggle.

Sam bursts out laughing. “Go. They’ll leave you behind.”

With a grin on your face and a hop to your step, you wave at Sam before heading out the side door and into the early morning. The sun is just starting to rise. Most people are still asleep or starting their day. You walk by the communal buildings where the earliest risers are preparing breakfast. You sigh when you get a whiff of what they’re cooking, wishing you could snag a meal before departing.

As you approach the gate, Zac raises his hand in greeting.

“Have I held everyone up?” you ask tentatively, glancing around.

“Not at all. Still loading up a few things. Your timing is perfect.” Zac smiles, and though you find him pleasant, nothing stirs within you. There is no lust or even romantic interest.

You observe the line of cars queued at the gate. Usually there are only one or two, but there are at least ten vehicles here including the salvaged U-Haul. “Taking a whole convoy?”

“We’re going to need it.”

“For a small town?”

Zac chuckles. “I’m dropping you off at the library. Ben will come with you.”

“I get a security detail?” you ask excitedly and Zac nods. “Fancy.”

Zac scratches at his neck, gaze roaming over the convoy. “There’s a car assembly plant a few miles outside the town. Gonna strip what we can. If things go well, we’ll come back.”

“No activity then?”

“None,” confirms Zac. “We’ve had a scouting team out there for the last two months. Not a soul has passed through.”

“That’s fortunate,” you murmur.

While your community has been largely untouched and unbothered by the outside world, there are still so many unknowns. There have been stragglers that have shown up, and while several have been accepted in and integrated, there are many more that have been turned away or shot on sight. Sometimes you think it cruel, but there are all sorts of horrors in the world now.

Ben walks around the front of the nearest car, and beams in your direction. “Hear I’m looking after you today,” he says, going in for a hug.

You accept it easily. Ben is the comedian of the community, always having a kind word and funny joke.

“And helping me haul books,” you add.

Ben winks in your direction and then turns to Zac. “We’re ready.”

Zac nods. “Load up!” he shouts.

Everyone around you heads to their designated vehicle. Engines roar and car doors slam. You follow Ben, hopping into a dusty Jeep Wrangler.

It’s several hours of open road and clear weather.

You and Ben pass the time by singing songs and playing car games. It’s a good distraction until Zac comes on over the radio and tells Ben their exit is coming up. The rest of the convoy drives on as Ben cuts away to take an exit ramp. A few more minutes and he’s coming to a stop just on the edge of town, parking the Jeep amongst a cluster of trees. The vehicle is completely hidden.

“Ready?” he asks, sliding the keys into his pocket.

“Backpack? Check. Gun? Check. Foldable wagon? Check.”

Ben blows raspberries. “Can’t forget the foldable wagon.”

You playfully smack him on the arm. “You want to haul all those books back yourself.”

“No thank you,” he mutters.

The walk is pleasant, but overall silent. Ben carries an M4AI. The arsenal back home is massive, and whenever there are trips outside the compound, the military-grade weapons come out. He keeps his head on a swivel, but other than the occasional animal sounds and the rustling of leaves, all is quiet.

“Here it is,” sighs Ben, extending one arm toward a stand-alone building at the corner of an intersection.

The library isn’t overly big. If anything, it’s what you’d expect from a small town.

“Now I know you’re excited,” he begins, slightly leaning in your direction. “But you stay close. We’re entering from the back.”

All you can do is nod eagerly, words escaping you. It’s been almost six years since you’ve been inside a library. This is a treat. It takes an insane amount of self-control to not skip all the way to the back of the building.

While the front of the building faces the intersection, behind the library is a small parking lot and two dumpsters. Ben does a slow sweep of the lot as the two of you walk toward the employee entrance. Satisfied that nothing and no one is around, Ben lowers his gun. Removing his backpack, he sets it on the ground, and rummages around inside before withdrawing lockpicks.

Adrenaline surges within you.

A few wiggles.

And then—

Click.

Grinning like an idiot, Ben slips the lockpicks into his backpack and puts it on. Grabbing his gun, he presses himself to the brick wall. Slowly, Ben opens the door with the tip of the rifle. It gives under his touch easily, the hinges even silent as the door swings inwards.

“Draw your weapon,” whispers Ben. “We need to do a sweep first.” As you reach for your Glock, Ben shakes his head. “And leave the damn wagon.”

Leaning the foldable wagon against the wall, you remove your gun from its holster. Ben enters and you follow, shifting your body to watch for anything coming up behind you. It’s a slow sweep. Starting along the wall, the two of you walk the perimeter, checking the back offices, and then finally the center-most area.

Ben comes to a stop near a collection of dusty chairs. Lowering his gun, he sighs with relief. “It’s clear.” He turns in your direction. “I’ll be keeping a lookout at the door. If anything happens, you come directly to me.”

“Got it,” you say with a mock salute.

Ben rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “And don’t drag those books along because I know you will. Leave them.”

You stare him down but Ben doesn’t budge, matching your stare with one of his own. “I mean it. If someone or something comes barreling through the front doors, you fucking run to me. Understood?”

“Sure. Got it. Understood.”

Ben checks his watch. “We have a few hours before we’re expected back at the meet point. Take your time.” He starts to walk away, and then abruptly pivots. “Wife packed a few sandwiches. Promise I’ll share.”

You snort and wave him off. “Bring me my wagon, Ben.”

“On it,” he calls over his shoulder.

As his footfalls recede, you linger in the quiet, dusty library, taking in the significance of the moment. Six years since you’ve stood inside an actual library. Five years since the world fell apart but a year before, third places were quickly disappearing. No one could spend money when wages were low and all the government’s resources were going toward the war effort. Libraries and free spaces shuttered first, losing all their funding.

This place is precious. Special. A rare opportunity.

Of all the books in your community’s collection, they’ve all come to you by the way of others, collected on routine trips and scavenging missions like today. Since stepping inside the walls you now call home, this is the first time you’ve left it. All the stories you receive of the outside world come from the mouths of those who witness it firsthand.

Like a jubilant child, you want to run around—to touch everything. The tips of your fingers buzz with an incessant itch. But you don’t dare remove anything from the shelves. Resisting is almost physically painful as you float through the aisles, taking it all in. To remove a book off the shelf, to open it up, the smell it and feel it would be paradise.

But you know better. You do.

Disturbing them without the right tools and care might cause damage or undo exposure. What you can do is look, to read the spines, and consider your options. Once you know what you want, you’ll drag your little wagon behind you and go about taking the books you want off the shelves.

Ben does leave you alone, and you’re left to wander.

Each step is light but purposeful as you move about the space. You think of everyone back home, of their likes and dislikes, of their needs and wants. More picture books would be helpful as well as some young adult novels. Some of the women have been asking for romance and few of the older folks would like some historical nonfiction.

“Where are you?” you mutter, digging around in your jacket pockets.

Crumpled paper brushes against your fingers. Withdrawing it, you smooth it out as best you can. Using the little light available to read your scribbled penmanship, you pull the wagon behind you, mentally reordering your notes by priority.

Sam wants dictionaries, and you need to grab a set of encyclopedias. Finding the “Reference” section, you survey all your options. Dictionaries and an encyclopedia set are a must, but you also consider the selections of atlases and then the thesaurus collection. The school could really use those resources, and your wagon is large enough to accommodate a few last-minute additions.

Kneeling, you admire the different editions of encyclopedias. Some appear a little worn but otherwise fine. Even though this place hasn’t had power or temperature control in five years, the place was sealed and untouched until you and Ben. It’s likely that everything inside is fine, and all you and Sam will need to do is a rebinding.

You’re completely absorbed, so focused on the tomes in front of you, that the whisper of your name has you spinning around and reaching for your gun.

Ben has his hands up in front of him in a placating gesture. A snarky remark sizzles on your tongue. Ben brings a finger to his mouth in a gesture of silence. Whatever you were going to say dissolves, leaving behind an acrid aftertaste.

Slowly, you swivel your head from side to side but see nothing.

Ben shifts closer, leans in, a glint of fear in his eyes.

“There are people outside,” he whispers.

That’s when you hear it. Distantly, you hear a car door slam, and a muffled shout. The marrow in your bones becomes ice. There are people. There shouldn’t be people.

You swallow, mouth becoming dry. “How many?”

Ben shrugs. “Not sure. But there’s two groups.”

“Two—” You shake your head slightly as that’ll clear your racing thoughts. “What do you mean two groups?”

Ben’s mouth turns downward. It’s an I’m sorry but even that is loaded.

We’re not getting out of this.

There’s a distant hoot of laughter, and then the breaking of glass as if someone’s thrown a beer bottle. It’s still far enough away that you cling to that one comfort. But if they stick around, they might come sniffing. If that happens, you and Ben will be cornered.

Ben nods his head in the direction of the front of the library. Staying low, the two of creep toward the front of the building. There are two sets of double doors. The first set open up into the library and the secondary set of doors lead directly outside. Sandwiched between them is a small atrium. Above the doors are massive windows that bring in natural light.

Out front in the intersection are several beaten up trucks. From what you can see, it’s all men, at least a dozen or two in total. They look haggard. Mean.

“Is that them?” you ask softly.

Ben doesn’t look back at you as he answers. “Just the one. These guys came in loud.” Ben shifts slightly to glance over his shoulder at you. “Surprised you didn’t hear them.”

“Lost in my books.” Ben snorts, and returns his attention to the glass doors. “What about the second group?” you ask tentatively. “Our people?”

Ben eases back a bit. He sits down on the floor, checking over his rifle. “No. Not sure who they are.” He licks his lips, gaze focused on the gun. “They’re all in black. Militarized by the look of them. Organized.”

Two groups. Two different groups.

Ben removes the clip and checks the cartridge. “Only noticed them when one of these guys went around back.” He gestures toward the men directly outside the front doors. “Fucker came out of nowhere and knifed him. Dragged his body away too.”

“Who are they?”

Ben shrugs and rummages in his backpack for a new clip. “No fucking idea. The ones out front might be marauders or slavers or—”

He pauses, gaze growing distant.

“Or what, Ben?” you prompt.

He doesn’t answer, only readies the rifle. “All I know is we need to go.”

All this work, all this effort, suddenly gone.

Your shoulders sag as the reality of the situation sets in. “I have to leave the books. Don’t I?”

“Afraid so,” replies Ben. But he smiles, and though he’s trying, you see the strain. “Next time I’ll make sure to bring you and Sam some books.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he affirms. “Let’s go.”

At the back door, you withdraw your Glock, posting up beside Ben. He cracks it open. Pauses. Opens it a little wider. He carefully sticks a small hand mirror out the opening. He turns it left then right then back again.

“Clear” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He exits slowly, and then gestures with his hand. You step outside, squinting slightly as your eyes adjust to the light. Ben starts to cross the parking lot, heading for the exit furthest from the intersection.

The voices of the men are louder out here. A tiny bubble of panic blooms. Then simmers. Then boils.

There is no one around. No one. And yet—

A loud crack splits the air. The wall next to Ben explodes, tiny fragments of debris bursting outward. Ben stumbles backward. He grabs for you. And tugs.

You’re yanked to the side, and then spun around.

Time seems to slow, and yet everything occurs so quickly you don’t entirely comprehend what’s happened until Ben shoves the two of you behind a nearby dumpster.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe. “Ben. We—”

Horror floods your lungs.

Blood.

Everything. Dripping from tiny holes in Ben’s body.

“Oh my god. Ben.”

You reach for him, but there are so many impact points. Too many.

“Go,” he gasps. “Go.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

As the words leave your mouth, a barrage of bullets bite into the wall directly over your head.

“Here,” he rasps, handing you the keys to the Jeep. “Leave me and fucking run. I’ll distract them.”

Shouting breaks out nearby followed by what seems like a never-ending deluge of gunfire.

Your eyes burn. “You promised me books.”

He smiles, and there’s more red than white. “You know I always deliver on my promises.”

With a groan that’s more a cry of pain, Ben stands and reloads with a new clip.

“Go,” he whispers just as he steps out from around the dumpster, gun firing.

You turn. Take off. Gunfire follows.

It comes from everywhere, but you don’t falter, don’t pause to check your surroundings. You’re not a raging bull or an agile cheetah. You are pure frenzy, pure panic, like a rabbit running from fox teeth.

“Fucking grab her!” someone yells. “Grab her!”

You don’t know if it’s the marauders or the men all in black, but there is little reason to consider who.

Survival is paramount. Survival is eternal.

In a world like this, survival is lifeblood.

It is everything.

With lungs burning and muscles screaming, you aim for the houses, knowing you can lose them if you scuttle through the overgrown backyards.

The blow comes out of nowhere.

You witness a brief taste of freedom.

And then it’s yanked right from under you.

A body barrels into you, knocking you sideways. The ground comes up fast. You throw up your arms to protect your head and face. It cushions but protects little else. You hit hard.

“Come here,” growls a male voice. Hands are on you. Grabbing. Twisting. “Let me get a good look at you.”

You kick out. Throw your fists in all directions.

“Stop your fussing.”

A quick blow to the face and you’re circling, everything becoming temporarily blurry as the person atop you brings your vision skyward.

 “Look at you,” he laughs.

It’s one of the marauders. He smiles down at you, teeth brown and grey from decay.

“Pretty thing. Gonna look cute choking on my—”

His nefarious smile drops as the rest of him stiffens. You freeze, staring up in shock as you try to figure out what’s happened. It’s a slow unfolding. A trickle. Blood begins to pool in his mouth and then it drip drip drips onto your face.

With a soft cry, you wiggle out from under him as he tips over, falling into the grass. Scrambling backward, you start to push up onto your knees, muscles poised to keep moving.

“Don’t move.” A gun barrel presses into the back of your head. It’s still warm. “Get up.”

A pair of black boots come into view. Your gaze slowly ascends. Black boots give way to black pants to a black bullet proof vest to a black balaclava. The only part of him you can see are his eyes.

Someone grabs the back of your neck. It’s a harsh hold, and you’re yanked to your feet. You twist your neck and find another man, this one almost identical to the one in front of you. This is the other group Ben spotted, the ones tracking the marauders.

The one holding your neck squeezes and the other reaches for you. “Fucking move and I’ll shoot you.”

You remain perfectly still—perfectly silent as he pats you down. The knife in your boot is confiscated along with your Glock. When they snatch the Jeep keys, you instinctually reach to take them back.

“Told you not to fucking move.”

The man slaps your hand down and you feel the muzzle return to your head.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

He stares you down for a long moment. It gives you an opportunity to observe him, and his companion. They both wear identical all-black tactical even down to the patches attached to their biceps. The bottom one you recognize. Both American flags. The one above it is eerily similar but you can’t entirely place it. It’s an azimuthal projection of the earth but a top view from the North Pole. Beneath it are two olive branches.

The stranger’s gaze shifts to just above you. He jerks his head, and then you’re shoved forward without warning. With each of them holding an arm, you’re half-dragged back to the intersection the marauders were at.

While their rusty trucks are still there, they aren’t alone. Four armored trucks are parked in a semi-circle around the marauders’ cars. More men in all-black tactical gear prowl the area. Of the first group to arrive, those that aren’t dead have been zip tied and lined up in a row on their stomachs, faces pressed into the asphalt.

When one of them moves, they’re kicked until they fall back into compliance.

“Found this one out by the houses,” says the man holding onto your left arm.

Soldiers. They have to be. This isn’t some ragtag group. They wear uniforms, all of which are perfectly maintained. Even the armored trucks are in decent condition.

A small trio of them standing nearby turn.

The centermost soldier speaks. “A woman?” His surprise is clear. And like the two men who hold you, this man too has an American flag.

He nods toward the group of facedown marauders. “These fuckers don’t let their breeders out of their sight.”

Breeders.

You almost snarl, bite back with an insult. But you keep your mouth shut. Their intentions are unclear, and you’re without a weapon. Entirely powerless.

Survival. Always survival.

He takes a few steps forward, approaching you, gaze assessing. Behind the balaclava, he gives you a once over. “Looks healthy,” he observers. Without warning, he grabs your face. You jerk back, and he clucks his tongue. “Stop moving.”

Turning your face to the left and then to the right, the middle of his brow creases. “Open your mouth.”

You glower, and don’t comply.

He grabs your nose, shutting off your air. You gasp, mouth opening.

“Has all her teeth,” he announces, dropping his hand. “Can’t be one of theirs.”

“We need to show the Lieutenant,” says the soldier to your right.

The man before you stares, and keeps staring. “Do we?”

You don’t like the implication.

“What’s this?”

A deep, masculine voice cuts through the air. It is accented. British. Every head turns, and the soldiers straighten, shoulders back and heads held high.

The man holding your left arm speaks up. “Found her running toward the houses, Lieutenant.”

All the soldiers wear plain black balaclavas. Simple. Straightforward. But the man who steps into view has a skull face stitched into his. A fucking skull.

Instead of an American flag, it’s a Union Jack.

His brown eyes behind the mask narrow. “They don’t bring their women out.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Are their numbers that low?”

“With how we’ve been picking them off I wouldn’t be surprised.”

They bicker back and forth, arguing about you but not actually talking to you.

“I’m not with them,” you say, and they all go silent.

Skull Face glowers. “You’re not?”

“I was running from them.” You glance between the soldiers who shot the man. “They’ll tell you. They’re the ones that shot him.”

Skull Face appears unmoved. “Doesn’t mean you’re not with them.”

You laugh, and it sounds a bit hysterical. “Why would I be fucking running if I were with them? Wouldn’t I be shooting back at you?”

“No,” he replies flatly. “If you were with them, you’d be bloody running from them. Not shooting at us.”

“She has to be with them. There’s no one else here.” The man who speaks up this time is directly to Skull Face’s right. The accent is different. Scottish.

“I came with one other. Those men shot at us.”

Ben. Oh. Sweet Ben.

“And where are they?” asks Skull Face.

You swallow, knowing the truth. “Behind the library. Parking lot. Near the dumpster.”

Skull Face locks gazes with another solider and nods. Two men break off, heading in that direction. He returns his attention to you. “Who are these men?”

“What?” you ask, perplexed.

“These men.” He points to the facedown marauders. “Who are they?”

These men are strangers to you. “Slavers?” When no one confirms or denies, you guess again. “Cannibals?”

“She’s playing dumb,” mutters the Scots.

“Hush, Soap,” mutters Skull Face.  “Who are they? What name do they go by? It’s an easy question. Everyone knows it.”

You shake your head. “I—I don’t know.”

Lieutenant Skull Face leans in, lowering his voice. “If you don’t answer truthfully, you and I can have an extended chat in the back of one of these trucks.”

“She had these.” The Jeep keys are tossed, and he catches them without looking. “And this.” The Glock is presented.

Soap takes the Glock. He turns it over. “They don’t give their women weapons, Ghost.”

So, Skull Face is named Ghost. Fitting.

“No,” he agrees. “Makes it easier for them to fight back.”

The very idea sobers you.

“Who are they?” you ask, feeling safe enough to do so.

Ghost glances up from the car keys. “Your worst fucking nightmare.”

“Lieutenant!” The two men that left for the library return. Jogging forward, they speak in low voices.

Ben is not with them. Ben is—

Ghost nods and steps back. “We’re taking her with us.” The two men holding onto your arms let go and Ghost immediately grabs hold of your shoulder, pulling you forward.

“Pick three of these bastards at random,” he announces, gesturing toward the facedown men. “Put them in Delta truck. Shoot the rest.”

Ghost’s hand at your shoulder slides up, grasping the back of your neck. He leans in close—so close you can pick out the little flecks of gold in his brown irises.

“You’re riding with me.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @suhmie @z-wantstowrite @kylies-love-letter @keiva1000

@iloveslasher @ravenpoe67 @sadlonelybagel @nishim @arrozyfrijoles23

@voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @sageyxbabey @glassgulls @miaraei

@weasleytwins-41 @eternallyvenus @chaostwinsofdestruction @cherryofdeath @ninman82

@fern-reads @waves-against-a-cliff @beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx

@jianyi22 @sethell @atpeacee @konigssweatyhood @dreamingoftomorrow

@katerinaval @morguethemagpie @galactict3a @sarah-the-bird-nerd @mikachu-bitez

@unclearblur @kurochan3

[nerdygirlramblings]

Another day, another ancient gods drabble, but there is now a plan! This will probably be another two or three installments before we finish, so stay tuned.

Jon and the others stay another two days. They find you each morning at their shrines with an Elder in tow. To your knowledge Elder Stigr has not interacted with them since Si's veiled threat. He hasn't forgotten you saw it either, his eyes burning from across the village. Before, you would have been worried to incur the wrath of an Elder, but your position as seer, and the esteem Jon and the others have for you, gives you a sense of protection.

Whenever the men find you, they are able to make some kind of excuse to their Elder chaperone to spend time alone with you. Gaz is masterful at making suggestions that the Elder latches onto as their own amazing idea, needing to hurry off to accomplish it immediately. You are equally impressed and frightened at how easy he makes it look. "Sometimes men who want to be powerful simply need a reminder of their own greatness, and they'll take any idea you provide to be able to claim its glory as their own," he says, watching Elder Hrafn wind his way towards the main building. There's a predatory glint in Gaz's eye, and you bite your tongue before you can ask if his statement also applies to him and the others.

They know they will not have the whole day with you. Though you are a grown woman, your family has passed, and without a husband, it is improper to be in the company of men alone for too long. As seer, some of the impropriety can be forgiven, but after lunch, if the men desire more of your company, it will have to be in the presence of others. So they tell you what you need to do to start raising the gods they spoke of.

Jon tells you to start with Fra. That her altar should be built of wood tempered but not burned by fire, something stronger for its being scorched. Your first prayer to her should be for protection, with an offering of bread. Next, Si says Las and Wel should be called upon. They do not receive two altars but one interwoven of two types of wood. When you hesitate, Tav says he will show you where to find the wood you need when the time comes. Las and Wel are the first gods whose altar should be covered in a cloth made from a baby's swaddle and an old woman's tunic. The covering is the offering over which you are told to thank them for the healthy and vitality of the community. Lex follows. His altar, like Gaz's, is a simple table adorned with a blank book. As a messenger, Lex serves as a go between of the people and the gods. He is truly the seer's deity, though Tav scoffs when Jon says this, reminds the man they are your gods. Finally is the other paired deities - Ale and Rudi. Like Las and Wel, they too have a single shared altar made from parts of old carts and animal bridles. The first offering to them requires travel, for it needs to be stones collected on the journey back to your village. Over the stones, you are to thank Ale and Rudi for safe passage home.

Tav and Gaz help you devise a timeline: new shrines after each full moon. Jon promises, again, the gods will bless your people as you awaken them.

At the feast on the third night, before the men depart, they toast a thanks to your village's hospitality. "I believe these other villages will look to you to guide a new covenant between you and your gods," Jon says, looking at the village Elders, before quickly cutting his gaze to you. "Your seer has lit a path to follow, and these others will need help finding their way as you have done." It's a not-so-subtle reminder that your work is what brought the favor of the gods to this village. "May you continue to flourish," he continues, "and perhaps we will be lucky enough to find ourselves in your company once more."

Though you are looking at Jon and he at the Elders, you feel three sets of eyes on you and know this will not be the last time you see your gods in human form.

more

series masterlist | main masterlist

[catdia]

Arcane Characters with a Puerto Rican Fem S/O

Jayce, Viktor, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Ekko, Sevika, Vander (nsfw)

Jayce

I like the idea that he is also Latino/Hispanic

Maybe Brazilian or Colombian

My sexy Latin Papí

In Piltover there isn’t really a big Latin community, so when he heard that you were Puerto Rican he befriended you reallllll fast

You studied botany and tech ecology, while he engineering

You wanted to save your islands flora and fauna by incorporating advanced tech, while he wanted to improve lives with magic 

You believed his dream since the beginning, even if you looked at him sometimes like he was crazy

“You have no idea what these crystals are capable of! What if we combine those aqueducts you designed for plant growth with runes? We can triple food production by 110%!” Jayce wrote equations on the board, mind going miles per second

“You think it can regrow completely deforested areas in less than 40 years?” You humored him.

“What if we can do it in less than 10?! The possibilities are endless! I promise that when I crack this, I will paint the whole world green for you.” Did he know how to warm your heart…

Jayce is a super touchy person and always has to have skin to skin contact like a new born

You get mistaken for a couple a lot before you even officially started dating

Always kisses you on the cheek when you greet each other. A very Latino thing!

Piltover’s greetings are very cold, only handshakes and shoulder pats. So he was ecstatic to finally have someone to do it with outside his family

Viktor became a victim of your kisses. But he secretly enjoys it

Jayce always smells good! Ximena taught him good hygiene since he was little. Whenever he feels a light sweat coming on he immediately hits the showers

Has a gold chain! Never takes it off. It was originally his father’s.

Doesn’t speak very good Spanish, but you teach him in between Hextech protects and meetings

You guys talk endlessly about your backgrounds and even bring treats to each other

“Mmm— oh, fuck!” He moaned shoving another spoon full of food into his mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head

“Jayce it really isn’t that good.” You were blushing like crazy, completely forgetting the plate in front of you. You just wanted to do something nice for him

“What are you taking about?! It’s the best thing I’ve had in weeks!”

He had been working his ass off building the new Hextech towers and surviving on sandwiches for the past month

“I also brought dessert, if you are interested…”

Jayce looked at you with puppy dog eyes. Absolutely enamored. Cheeks full like a chipmunk

“I. Love. You. Soooo. Much.” Jayce said grabbing your face and kissing you all over

“Te amo, mi rey.” (I love you, my king.) You said while gently wiping the side of his lips with your thumb

Jayce can dance! And I mean really dance. Ximena put him in classes when he was little because she didn’t want him to forget his roots

Dancing with Jayce is about passion, making love on the dance floor. Bodies pressed against each other, hands running above hot pumping blood and flesh. Heavy eye contact that yells sex and pleasure

You guys have sex in the forge all the time, instead of pounding hot metal he pounds that wet pussy (hahaha!)

Watching him pull the chains of the fire pit just gets it going for you. Back sweaty from the flames and work. Tan skin so glossy like copper

From you just wanting some papers to be signed for an new upcoming project turned into you having him on the workshop table

“Just like that, mi reina (my queen ). Como me haces sentir tan bien.” (You make me feel so good.)”

Jayce was thrusting into your cunt, the wood of the desk rattleing with every give and take. Your hands on his bare ass and his bracing your sides

When Jayce found your cunt’s sweet spot, the one that made your head fall into his shoulder with your eyes rolling back; pornografic grunt on your lips, he found gold

“You like that?” He grinned, finding solace in pleasure he gave you. Amused at how his body served yours so well

“Mmmm— yeah…” You licked the sweat of his jaw, slight stubble rough against your tongue

You loved him so much. Him with his stupid little smiles and big hands. And oh those eyes that made you dream of a safer tomorrow

“Esos ojitos de miel son tan bonitos. Te quiero comer enterito, papí!” (Those honey eyes are so pretty. I want to eat you whole, love!) You were practically going feral at his grasp. Eating at his neck and chest, savoring the taste of ash on his skin

You leaned back on your elbows, breasts jumping at his thrusts. Grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand up to cup your tit. Watching his cock drill in and out of your pussy. He was close by the knit of his eyebrows. Hips becoming harsher and sloppy

Jayce teased your clit, moving his fingers in the way you liked. Loving the clench of your walls as you grained your pelvis on his dick

“Assssíííí, cabrón—”(jusssstt like that, fucker—)

You came together in a world wind of grunts and curses. You creaming on his cock. Jayce rested his body weight on you as he came undone. Easing his head from your collar bones and giving his lips a peck. You loved how disheveled he looked, all fucked out with empty watery eyes

“Want me to give you a blowjob as you sign these for me?” You said brushing the hair of his face. Thankful for the shower he had installed at your request

“I would be an idiot to say no!”

Jayce is the king of aftercare! He will always have a snack or even a little trinket to give you after sex

“Look, I made a little pendant of the PR map!” Jayce showed you the little piece of metal. White teeth glinting as he was so proud of his artistry

“Oh my God— it uhmm… It has character alright!”

It looked more like a disheveled bean but you wore it proudly everywhere! You love your man

When you start dating Jayce, Viktor became your much appreciated third wheel

You always pack extra goodies and food in Jayce’s lunch box so that he gets feed too

Getting sad when Jayce comes home with tears in his eyes because his friend doesn’t take good care in himself

You even go as far as bringing him homemade meal preps to his house so he always has a warm dinner

Jayce’s favorite dishes you make are anything meat based: Bistec encebollado (beef steak with grilled onions), pollo guisado (stewed chicken in red sauce served over white rice), and pernil (slow oven roasted pork with crispy skin)

Would never admit to his mamá that your cooking is better than hers

And his mom absolutely invites you over to cook with her

Saying that she needs to pass on her recipes to her future daughter-in-law

You like spending Christmas at the Talis residence. A big old family gathering with delicious food and music

Ximena was more than pleased knowing that Jayce got himself a Latin girl!

Get ready to pump out some big chunky babies! This man is a Latino at heart and that comes with a few kids running around

The first time you ever visited the Talis home, Ximena took out all of Jayce’s baby pictures

“Awww, look at your tushy! Plump as ever I see.”

Jayce put his head in his hands. Ears red from his naked baby photos that you were so entranced by

“Mamí, please for the love of God put them away!”

Ximena gave her wedding ring to Jayce shortly after you left. The ring was carved and made by Jayce’s late father

“Si te vas a casar con cualquier persona, Jayce, tiene que ser ella.” (If you’re going to marry someone, Jayce, it has to be her.)

You call Jayce cerebrito (little brain) and he loves calling you mi tesoro (my treasure)

Viktor

Viktor knows the struggles of making it in Piltover as an outsider, both being form the Undercity and physically disabled

And making it to the best academy in Piltover while being different was surely a merit on its own

From simple study buddies to lovers. You fell first, but he fell harder

You call him estrellita (little star) because of his many beauty marks

I’ve read that people like to headcanon him as Czech, and I like that…. I like at ALOT

Teaches your words in his language to talk shit behind Jayce’s back. And by shit I mean make fun of his failed prototypes

Viktor straight out asked you to teach him the dirties curse words PR has to offer. And oh boy, do you give him a colorful list—

Cabrón (bastard), puñeta (fuck), hijo de puta (son of a whore), me cago en tu madre (I shit on your mom), mama bicho (cock sucker) , me cago en na’ (I shit on nothing), vete pal carajo (go fuck yourself)—

One time he got pissed at Jayce for not doing an equation right that ended up with the lab half burned to the ground.

You just stood next to Viktor as you watched them bicker at each other like a married couple. Jayce cleaning up the ash of his failed work

“You should have run them by me or Sky first, Jayce! We are partners, not competitors!” Viktor threw his now burned lab coat at him, hitting Jayce in the chest

“Well you shouldn’t have been making improvements to the Hexcore without my knowledge then!” Jayce pointed at Viktor, nailing back the fallen boards with unnecessary force. Wow, grumpy Jayce never got old

“You know what, Jayce—” Viktor looked at you with a evil glint in his eyes. Oh, no… “¡Me cago en tu madre!”

Jayce gasped like an old woman seeing a half naked girl at church. Mama’s boy Talis was going out for blood today

“Don’t talk about my Mamí like that—” he pointed at Viktor, hammer in one hand ready to knock his brains out.

“Come here you fucker!” Jayce launched towards Viktor as he scrambled to the other side of the desk

“Jayce, please don’t strain him too much! I still would like him in one piece!”

You were caught in this mess trying not to laugh as Viktor ran away with a giggle from his soon to be killer

“Take it back or I’m going to take that leg brace I built off with the bone still attached!”

“Never!” Viktor yelled triumphantly

It ended with Jayce and Viktor on their ass thanks to a good back head slap on your part

Guava enthusiasts. You brought mantecaditos (short bread cookies with guava paste on top) one time to the lab and they were gone before Jayce could try them

“Seriously, Viktor you didn’t even save me one—“ Jayce was looking inside the tin box with sad puppy dog eyes. Only finding crumbs at the every bottom

“There weren’t that many in the box anyways, Jayce.” Viktor said hiding the last cookies in his desk drawer. You made over 40 cookies, but he was never going to tell Jayce that

He likes anything vinegar based and soups. Like guineitos en escabeche (boiled green bananas dressed in a vinegar sauce) and sancocho (a hearty stew with a bunch of meat and vegetables like cabbage and yams)

It’s so funny hearing him pronounce the foods he likes! Viktor is really good at rolling his r’s. His accent is just to cute!

“What did you want me to make you Viktor?” You tried to hide your laughter as you looked at a grumpy Viktor

“I told you that I want that dulce de lecussy. The one you made last week with pieces of cheese.” He huffed

“You mean dulce de LECHOSA!” (candied papaya in sweet syrup with firm cheese) You crackled with lungs on fire from laughing so hard

“And what did I say then?!” He sassed at you trying to dim his smile

“That you basically wanted dessert pussy!!”

“I would mind that either, actually.” You gave him a slap on his shoulder. The sheer perversion of this man!

“¡Fo, que puerco eres!” (Ew, you’re such a pig!)

“How dare you call me a pig—” he gasped as you ran away from his wrath

He chased you with his cane and you ran around giggling trying to escape him

Viktor definitely has put in some weight and looks so much healthier

“I’m blaming you for my favorite trousers not fitting anymore.”

Once you showing him how real Puerto Rican girls twerk you created a new type of man. You decided to surprise him with a naked lesson. Rewarding him for the success of the Hextech gates.

“And what exactly do you call this?” Viktor rasped out. One hand firmly placed on your right hip. As the other went white holding the handle off his cane. Voice heavy with the heat of pleasure

“Perreo” you looked back at Viktor, watching him savor the ripples of your skin as you shook your body to the lyrics of Ivy Queen

“Mmm perreo…” he repeated absentmindedly

Pressing the cusp of your cunt on his clothed bulge, ass cheeks consuming and spilling out from his pelvis. Shaking your hips at various speeds and rhythms

Alternating between having your hands on the floor with your legs spread wide, having your knees bent with your fits on them, taking an ass cheek and spreading it so Viktor can see your sloppy pussy

“Eres bella.” (You’re beautiful.) heavy tongued, loving that the phrases you taught him were finally doing their magic

“Take that cock out now, jodio cabrón (fucking bastard).” Fuck did Viktor make you horny

“So vulgar.” He slowly unzipped his pants. Torturing you. He released his beautiful long cock. Dripping lines of precum down his head to his shaft 

You moaned at the sight of his dick, ready to be stuffed full. Spreading your pussy lips as an invitation. “Put it in.”

“I didn’t know that just a little dance could make you so aroused. Tell me what other— ohhhh, Janna!” Viktor had the wind knocked out of his lungs. Mouth gapping in pleasure

Sinking down his length shut him up. Pressing your ass until your cunt was consuming Viktor in a tight hold. Pushing him deep into the concrete

You swiftly shaking your ass faster than ever before. Not letting a single inches of that glorious dick escape your needy walls. One hand on the cold lab floor and the other playing with your clit

Viktor was whining, overwhelmed by the heat of your body. Hand letting go of his cane, it hit the ground with a powerful thud. Bracing himself on your hips

“I’m going to c-cum, my love—”

“Hechame esa leche adentro— mmmmmm… ¡Que rico eres, mi blanquito lindo!” (Cum inside me— mmmmmm… You’re delicious, my pretty little white boy!”)

Viktor came with a silente scream coating the inside of your pussy. If it wasn’t for the wall supporting Viktor’s back he would be on the ground by now

“That was incredible.” He stated, eyes wide with wonder and face flushed

He certainly asked for perreo lessons later on

And Viktor surprisingly can shake his hips very well! Which comes in handy for more than just one thing…

Vi

When you told her you were Puerto Rican she definitely said: “A mi me gusta la chocha de Puerto Rico.” (I love Puerto Rican pussy.)

You introduced her to reggaeton and now there is no going back, her favorite artist is Daddy Yankee

She likes to dirty dance with you, having your ass pressed against her pelvis. Especially when she has Bacardi in her veins

Vi doesn’t care what you put in her plate as long as it’s fresh and delicious

She enjoyes rice based dishes the most, like arroz con calamares (rice with calamari) and arroz con salchicha (rice with cocktail weenies)

She once downed a full bottle of coquito (coconut eggnog) on her own

Vi’s favorite dessert is arroz con coco (a coconut rice pudding)

She definitely makes fun of you for not being able to say certain words right!

Don’t EVER make a Puerto Rican say “jewelry” or “burglary”. We are allergic to L’s and R’s and it will cause us to go into septic shock!

Likes being called gringa by you. Thinks it’s hot when you say it, especially when she annoys the crap out of you

Her favorite curse word is vete pal’ carajo (go fuck yourself). And when she gets into scuffles or fights she always tosses it around

And she’s like “yeah, my girlfriend taught me that. I’m a bilingual queen as well.” She low key embarrassed the fuck out of you when she says that

“Vi, I really don’t want to do this—” Vi was strapping a pair of boxing gloves to your hands. “What if I get hurt? What if I hurt you?”

“Don’t worry about me, cupcake! I can take a few punches just fine. I’ll go easy on you. And besides—” she slapped the side of your headbrace. “I’ve seen you practice with Powder before. Ehh, it’s kind of pathetic how you throw a fist to be honest.” She gave your nose a peck, turning around and taking her side of the ring

“Hey! I’m a great hit!” You sassed placing your gloved hands on your hips

It was ON. You definitely were out for blood

“Then prove it! The stage is yours!” She ran the little bell that was attached at the wall.

It been less than 6 minutes in and you were already panting

Vi was definitely going light on you. Not even taking the spots you intentionally let open for her. She only dodged your every attempt to get a hit in

Light on her feet as she tripped your leg, causing you to fall on the ropes of the ring.

You wanted to call it, but your pride was too strong. And you equally stupid

“When are you going to hit me for real?! I didn’t think the great Violet was just a pussyfoot!” Vi pushed your buttons the right way. She loved when you got bratty

“You can’t take this heat, cupcake. I’ll knock you out until next Monday and Vander will have my head on a stick if I do.” She was right, but God did you want to wipe that smug look of her face!

“Oh, yes I can!” Your fist had a mind of its own. Angry as she was so cocky

Before you could think you took the open spot on her face. Hitting her square in the jaw, knocking her back on the rubber ropes. Vi was in shock and whiplashed by the quickness of your punch

“¡Ay, puñeta! ¡¿Violet, estás bien?!” (Oh, fuck! Violet, are you okay?!) You desperately took your gloves and stupid helmet off. The Velcro fighting your desperate attempt to pull it off

A drop of blood escaped her lips, Vi’s thumb flicked at the side of her mouth. Eyes on the smear of red, then up to you. Smirking at the damaged you inflicted

Fuck did you just make her 100 times hornier than she already was

“That kind of hurt.” Translation: it hurt like hell!

By the fire in her eyes you knew that you were so screwed. Your belly grew warm, the hole between your legs clenching on nothing

“Vi, I’m s-so sorry! I told that this was a bad—”

In a swift play of time, she pinned you against the ground. Having her left arm around your neck in a headlock, her left hand on your shoulder. As her legs trapped yours under her thighs, having them spread out with your pelvis arching forward. Both of your arms crossed behind your back pinned by the weight of your body

You moaned at the discomfort. Muscles tired by the training, you tried your best to wiggle out. Only for Vi to hold you harder against herself

“What’s wrong, cupcake? Bit off more than you can chew?” You did answer her with words, but with that glint in your eyes that meant (Fuck me, you damned raspberry bitch)

She slithered your baggy pants past your knees. Your pantieless cunt up in the air. Vi loved how you were always easy to access. From fingering you in public to her eating you out in some random alley

“Naughty girl. Who knew decking me in the face could get your pussy so wet.” She dipped a finger in your folds. Scooping the wetness and pulling it out to watch it drip

She gave your cunt a slap and your clit fluttered at the assault. Pulsating for more

“You like that, uhh?”

“Y-yeah—”

Vi gave you a plethora of open palmed hits. Juices streaming down your ass. Yelping as your cunt was being abused. All swollen and red

Vi thrusted her fingers into your opening in a scissoring motion. Her bloody thumb circling your clit

“V-vi— ahhhhaaamm! No puedo ver másss.” (I cant see anymore) Gurgling on the spit of your throat. Ready to pass out any second

Your vision went white by the lack of oxygen and the way Vi’s fingers played with your cunt so deliciously. Hot tears burning your skin from the constant stimulation

You stuck your tongue out, spitting saliva out thanks to the lack of air in your lungs. Face ready to turn blue. But did it make your body feel good…

“Just a little more— alright?”

Vi curled the tips of her fingers on your g spot and digged them in far into your crevice. Shaking her wrist to send vibrations to your whole pussy

You bit her forearm, shocks of pleasure coursing out the inside of your walls. Your teeth broke the skin, tasting the blood of your lover

Squirting the liquid of your orgasm on the ring’s floor. Vi let your body go, your lungs reviving in painful gulps of air

Vi turned you on your side, massaging your ribs and sternum. Licking the spit around your temple. She kissed your lips, careful not to take more oxygen from your body

“Who is going to clean this up?” Voice hoarse. Your mouth tasted coppery

“Lick the floor clean, losers get janitor duty.” She slapped your ass, you groaned at the lack of humanity. Vi got up from the floor and headed to her water bottle. Instead of taking a drink she poured it on her chest and hair. Nipples highlighted through her white sports bra. She pushed her wet hair back arms flexing a she felt your gaze on her

“We don’t got all night, cupcake. Avanza (hurry up).”

What a tease

Caitlyn

This girl has never know flavor until you came around

You were the daughter of one of her mother’s tailors and stylist. Your mom always brought you along to see her clients because she wanted you to take over one day

When you first visited the Kiramman residence you were blown away by the beauty of the estate. Your mom told you that this client would take longer than the others because she ordered a whole custom made ball gown

“I have a daughter, Caitlyn, about your age as well! Maybe you ladies can be friends! God knows my girl needs a gal pal.” She said excitedly as she was getting fitted for her gown.

Mrs. Kiramman gave you the liberty to explore the gardens as your mother worked. And you sat down near the water fountain to have your snack

“Esta gente si que tiene chavos…” (These people sure do have money…)

As you were munching on your sandwiches you saw a head of indigo hair peeking out from the rose bushes. A young girl

“Caitlyn, right? Do you want one?” You ask stretching your arms with your lunch in your hands. She timidly walked towards you

“What are they?” The girl asked as she sat next to you

“Sandwiches de mezcla (spam and velvita sandwiches) and platanutres (thinly fried plantain chips) ! They are really good, I made them fresh this morning.”

Caitlyn looked at them, and gently picked up a sandwich. Slowly taking a bite as she looked at your happy face.

Her eyes sparkling at the soft bread and salty spread

“Mmmm— I’ve never had anything like this before!” She then picked up some plantain chips. Savoring the salty crunch of them.

You quickly become friends. Cait even convinced her mother that she liked wearing fancy clothes just so that she could she you more frequently

Mrs. Kiramman was ecstatic that her little girl was going to wear more dresses than only her school uniform

Cait even goes as far as to ask her mom to invite you to her birthday party. The only close friend she really had was Jayce. And there were only going to be adults from other houses and The Council

You also became friends with Jayce, you both taught Cait how to dance bachata and salsa

“Cait move your hips more! You are stiff as a board, mija (girl)!” You said guiding her feet to the music

“I don’t have hips to shake!” She said as her cheeks flushed

Cait knows only a few Spanish phrases thanks to Jayce. Girl can’t roll her r’s or say her l’s even to save her life

She is a sweets girl! Loves flan de queso (cream cheese flan) and flan de vanilla (vanilla flan)

When she finally confessed her love for you she did it in Spanish. She practiced with Jayce for almost a month to get the emotions right

“Me gustas mucho. Te adoro. ¿Quieres ser mi novia?” (I like you a lot. I adore you. Do you want to be my girlfriend?) She handed you a bouquet of lilacs. You were so excited that you knocked her on her ass! You hit your head on a table and both of you spend your commitment with ice on your limbs

You watched each other grow up, you becoming a seamstress like your mother. And Cait going against all Mrs. Kiramman’s wishes and graduating from the Enforcer Academy

You join Cait in the private shooting classes with Officer Grayson. Both excellent shoots, but you not so much. You’re better in close range with a handgun

She looks so sexy in her enforcer outfit!

Lost your virginities to other other! It was the day of her graduation of the academy. When everyone was clustered in the Kiramman estate celebrating her accomplishment

You sneaked away together to her bedroom. Stealing a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a bottle of wine. Wanting to get away from the elite of Piltover

You were on her bed, stuffing your mouth with cheese and crackers

“You’re going to get crumbs on my sheets.”

“Are you going to give me a ticket for it?” Caitlyn scoffed at you as you tentatively shoved another bite in your mouth

Caitlyn stood in front of the mirror. Fixing her medals and badges that hung on the fabric. You knew her too well, she was picking herself apart. Thinking that she only got in the academy because of her name only

“I think I would get used to calling you “Officer Kiramman” you said crawling to the edge of the bed, bottle of wine in your hand. Lying on your stomach with your palm under your chin. Looking at the pretty lady in blue

You patted the spot next to you, discarding the bottle to the floor. Crossing your legs on the mattress

She walked to the bed and sat next to you, leaving her top hat on her bedroom ottoman

“Caitlyn, you have to believe me when I say that you are so much more than your house” You held her temple in your palm, she held your wrist. Closing her eyes as she savored your compassion

“You are more talented than those silver spooned pricks out there! You may have the same money and influence, but they will never reach the level of talent you have. Because what is all this power for if you don’t have the heart to push change? You care, Cait! And I saw with my own eyes how you make others do as well. Like the time you told your mom to give a raise for her maids and workers! Remember that?”

She giggled, remembering that day she saw your mother counting her last few coins to afford a new pair a shoes for you. Cait yelled at Mrs. Kiramman for hours, until she finally gave into her mistake

Next time she saw you there was a brand new pair of shoes on your feet that had you running up to Cait to tell her all about

And that instance evolved into Cait wanting a better world for you. She wanted to change the concrete you walked on into fields of flowers

“Thank you, I really needed that…”

“It also helps that you have a nice pair of tits.” You joked as you pointed to her Enforcer jacket

“You minx!”

She slapped your shoulder and chuckled as you faked your hiss in pain. Rolling around the bed as you help your poor “broken” arm!

“Ohhh, I’ve been a victim of police brutality!”

“I’ll show you brutality, bebé (babe)!”

She climbed on top of you, tickling your sides

“¡Cait, para que no puedo respirar!” (Cait, stop I can’t breathe!) Cait stopped her attach, watching as your chest rose to catch the missing breaths. Your cheeks rosie in adrenaline

She wanted you there with her always. Your hair on her pillows and the smell of your skin lingering on the buttery covers

“Cait?” You asked as you calmed down. Looking at her in worry

“Fuck it” Cait thought, as her lips captured yours in an estranged kiss.

After years of ghostly touches, of lingering eyes, and Jayce calling your romance worse than nuns in love in a convent. She wanted to go the next level with you

You pulled her in, rolling yourself on top

“Are you sure?” You asked bracing her neck

“It would be my honor to have my first time with you.” And yours as well. You started to take layers of your bodies

You both laughed at your struggle to unclip her blouse. Her fingers guiding yours as she showed you the intricacy of the clasps

“I guess that “enforcement” also extends to your uniform.”

“That’s why I only let you make my garments—” Caitlyn kissed the corner of your eye. “They are much more second party friendly.” You pushed the shirt of her body, surprised at the nakedness of the chest

“No bra?” You cupped her breast, feeling the goose bumps of her skin. Her breath hitched at the coldness of your hands

“I didn’t just expect half ass handshakes and putrid marriage proposals as graduation presents.” Cait took charge, pinning you against the edge of the bed. Crawling downwards to your core

She raised your skirt, white sheer stockings held by a lacy garter around your waist. Her eyes widened at the lack of fabric covering your mound

“You weren’t the only one expecting more than just pat on the shoulder tonight.” You moaned as she spread apart your lips

Cait dove in between your legs. Hands in your hips as she guided her tongue along your folds. Nose resting on the shell of your clit

“I t-think, ahhh, you underestimate yourself too much, Cait.” She focused on your bud, rolling her lips on it. Then sucking ever so lightly to draw whimpers out of your vocal cords

“¡Ya no aguanto más! Yo creo que—” (I can’t bear it anymore! I think that—)

You came with a grunt, arching your back of the matters. Head filling with rushed blood as it hanged free of support from the mattress. As you were lost in your high, Cait placed her cunt on yours and rolled her hips. Feeling her clit make love to yours. Your previous orgasm used at oil to make her slip against your pleasures

“Ready for another round?” She whispered into your raised calf. Teeth ripping the material of your stockings. She will buy you new ones, better ones.

Caitlyn was born into wealth and privilege, but she is the most understanding girl you’ll ever met

When you pointed out the problem, she found a solution even if it meant going against her high society

You opened her eyes to the real world and she is so thankful for that

Mel

You were part of the council serving as an international ambassador like her

When Mel first saw what you brought to the council she wanted only to use you as a pawn

But she fell in love with your want for progress, one that actually breaks cycles and not just one that covers them with empty promises

She saw herself in you, a woman that wanted to break the bounds of her past convictions

Neither of you had houses in Piltover and shared different cultural backgrounds than the others

You secretly make fun of the culture shocks you experienced when first moving to Piltover

Both you and Mel HATE the cold that comes with Piltovan winters

She knew about your country and even speaks fluent Spanish thanks to her mother being a Noxian general.

Mel is a scholar, she read up on everything PR before ever making a move on you

Even if she already read up on everything she asks you questions just to hear you rant about your roots

“Is it true that Puerto Rico has the best coffee? I’ve been planning on investing in some companies, but I’m still on the fence…” Mel said in a quizzical tone. Tapping her pen to her chin

Your eyes sparkled. “We have the BEST coffee! Did you know that we have almost 3,000 coffee farms in all PR?! And we also have started to produce cacao as well. It’s incredible considering—” you ranted out

She zoned out, just appreciating the beauty of which you speak so lovingly about a simple thing as coffee beans

You teach her how to make homemade sofrito (a wet spice blend made with sweet peppers, cilantro, recao, and other herbs)

But your favorite memory is when you made dulce de leche together because Mel wanted to make a tiered cake for Alura’s birthday

“¿Quieres probar un poco?” (Want to try some?) You had already some on your index finger for yourself, but you were dipping the wooden spoon for Mel to taste

“Absolutely.” She took the spoon out of your hand and placed it back in the pot. Mel grabbed your wrist

She brought your finger to her mouth. Feeling the velvety muscle roll on your finger pad. Mel took your digit all the way to the knuckle. Slowly pulling her head back with a moan

“It could use some more vanilla.” Mel said dipping her finger back into the caramel. You were felt stunned, mouth gapping and your temple rose red

“What about the sugar?” You cringed as your voice broke. Screaming mentally about getting a grip. You literally have the prettiest woman in Piltover at your wake, and here you are speaking like a teen hitting puberty!

“Mmm, I can find another way to make it a little sweeter…”

“Strip for me, darling.” You did has she commanded. Shredding off the layers of clothing all to please her

You loved the way she looked at you, eyes of a lioness. They held a power over you, you ate from her hands

She took the pot by the handle and tilted it until syrup flowed out the metal. Pouring lukewarm dulce de leche on your skin. As if she was washing the body of a queen. It slowly dripping down your body. From your nipples to the crescents of your abdomen

Flicking her finger up the cusp of your breast to your nipple. Collecting the sugary treat only for her to give her finger to you. You repeating the same action she did moments before

She stared at the base of your neck, then at your chest. Occasionally, coming back to you and sticking out her tongue so you could eat it out of her mouth. You didn’t know who was sweeter. Mel or the candy you made together

Mel kittened licked your areolas clean, never breaking eye contact with you. As her hot tongue cleaned you off

Mel stripped shortly after. The gold birthmarks of her body reflecting in the light. She takes the spoon an and spreads the dulce de leche on her ass cheeks. Candy flowing down her thighs

“Eat up.”

You sat on the floor staring with the drizzle on her thighs, then raising to the globes of her ass. Licking the syrup of her smooth skin. Nibbling at the small golden freckles that decorated her dark skin

“Is it sweet enough now, darling?”

You ordered a cake from an expensive bakery in Piltover and called it a day. What Alura didn’t know won’t hurt her

She definitely stuffed your pussy with her paint brushes when she is working on a new project

Having your legs spread wide for her as he picks up a brush for your entrance, making sure she thrusts it in and out a few times to get a moan for you

Sucking the juices of the handle then dipping the bristles in red paint

And what about you eating her out in her office when she is working?! The possibilities are endless with Mel

For me she is the type to love anything you make her. There is so much diversity in Puerto Rican cuisine and her just picking one is impossible in her eyes.

But man does she appreciate a fresh mofongo relleno de camarones (smashed fried plantain topped with shrimp in a tomato sauce)

And you also teach her the basics of bomba (a tradicional African dance). Even gifting her a custom made traditional outfit to make your dance rehearsals all the more authentic

Mel takes you on lavish vacations to the island. Staying at the best hotels and you serve as a guide to her. Taking Mel to all your favorite local spots to eat pinchos (meat skewers) and drink Medallas (Puerto Rican beer)

You took her to your favorite archipelagos and little islands surrounding PR. And skinny dipped into the various bioluminescent bays at night. Mel had never had such a good time in her life

“Querida (love), I have a present for you.” Mel entered your shared living space. Medium canvas in hand

“Oh, Mel! You didn’t have to! Is there any special occasion that I forgot about?!” You got up from your stop on the couch, greeting her with a kiss

“No, love. I just wanted to do something special.” She turned the canvas around. You squealed at the art piece. She never disappoints!

“Mel! ¡Qué pintura más espectacular! (What an espectacular painting!) The water and sand look so life like! I can’t wait to hag this up in my office!”

“I painted it after we got back from holiday. It’s that big archipelago you took me at the end of your trip.” She circled your waist for behind, resting her chin on your shoulder

“Yes, Cayo Icacos! Oh my God, it even has the same dock and the coast line!” You said admiring the canvas

“There is also on more thing—” She walked over your wine cabinet, pouring two glasses of wine. “I bought Icacos for us. So we can spend your winter vacations there. Alone. Together.” She kissed your jaw, handing you the glass

“Oh like you rented it out for us?” You took a swig, moaning at the sweet undertones

“No, I got the government to officially sell it to me and put it under our names.” Mel said nonchalantly. You sip out your wine in shock

Yep, you definitely passed out shortly after

Ekko

You were one of the people that lost everything to Silco. Your community was slowly taken by Shimmer and gang wars

Ekko and the Firelights rescued you from Silco’s men. You didn’t want to join his web of crime and they proceeded to burn your shop with you inside

If it wasn’t for them being close by you would have lost more than just a few inches of healthy skin

Ekko teaches you how to fix things, how to clean and go at any loose cables their hover skateboards may have

You also picked up flying those boards pretty quickly, he made sure to make them as user friendly as possible

You were sitting on one of the many branches of the Tree, watching the children play and seeing the progress of the new faces in the mural. Fuck did it hurt seeing those paint brushes touch the trunk of the tree

The branch shook with the addition of a foreign weight

“Lost in thought, chica (girl).” You looked up at Ekko, still wearing his Firelight coat with his white owl mask hanging from his belt

“Tell me what’s your mind.” He sat next to you, bumping your shoulder playfully

“I fell like I’m not doing much— like I’m not doing anything. Like I-I’m a burden to this place.” You sighed, throat tight with anxiety. Eyes burning with hot tears

“And what do you want to do?” Ekko asked, holding your hand that was resting your lap. Shining brown eyes studying your features

God why was he so damn handsome when you are in the middle of a breakdown!

“I just d-don’t want to stand by— and — and watch my people be slaughtered…” You said between jagged lips

Ekko smirked at your answer, slowly pulling away from you and placing a box on your thighs

“What is it?” You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand

“Open.” Ekko leaned back on his palms, trying his best to keep his cool guy act even if he was nervous as hell inside

You opened the box, inside there was a Firelight mask. One shaped like the face of a bird like many others in group

Suddenly you remembered that faint pop of green in the sky from your childhood. Of a little green bird that would eat your grandmas tomatoes from her garden

Your eyes widened. What is this really what you think it is?

“Ekko— is this a cotorra puertorriqueña (PR’s national bird)?” You said in aw, lifting the mask and examining its details. Feeling the emotion Ekko put into carving it

“I’m sorry it took so long, but I wanted to make something that would represent you—” He took a small book from of his coat, falling apart by age. “And I landed on that. I found this book in one of the flee markets I went to.” He flipped the pages, letting you see the images and words on the pages. Everything from fauna to history was written on it

Ekko pointed at an image of the bird. “It just screamed you— beautiful and free. I-I mean also many other things like—”

You cut Ekko of with an embrace, holding the mask to your chest

“No sabes cuán agradecida estoy, Ekko. Gracias, gracias, gracias…” (You don’t know how grateful I am for this, Ekko. Thank you, thank you, thank you…) You sobbed on his shoulder, gripping him tightly as if something was going to take him away from you

“Por nada, chica (you’re welcome, girl).” Ekko whispered, arms circling your back

You cook for the Firelight community and when it’s your turn to serve your food the line triples with people more than other days

Ekko even made space for a little herb garden for you! And you have some plantain trees growing in

He likes helping you cook as well. His favorite thing to do is cut, mash, and fry tostones (plantain fritters)

Wouldn’t it be cool for Ekko to have some Caribbean background?! Like Jamaican, Trinidadian, or even Dominican

I can just see Ekko going ham on a pastelón de carne (a sweet plantain lasagna with ground beef and mozzarella cheese)

You give the kids and the adults Spanish lessons. And private ones to Ekko (wink wink)

I believe that the community has a beautiful shower pace! Filled with plants and vines that filter the water making it crystal clear. It’s almost like a never ending waterfall. And it’s especially breathtaking at night when the moon and fireflies light the place up

It was past midnight, and you just got back from other painstaking parole. Dirt coating your clothing and skin

You head straight to the showers. Discarding your clothes on the bench of the makeshift stall you were in.

The stream was cool to your skin, nursing those fresh bruises on your arms and thighs. Grateful for the fresh washcloths, liquid soap and towels that were replenished after every use

You turned around at the sound of an object falling. Ekko’s pupils wide at the sight of your bare breasts and ass. As his owl mask laid on the floor. Who long was he there looking? Did he like what he was looking at?

“S-shit I’m sorry! I thought that it was empty! I’m just gonna—”

“It’s okay— you can stay if you want, Ekko…” Did one of Silco’s goons hit you to hard on the head? Ekko hesitated at first, but when you gave him a nod

You saw him taking off his clothes. Body littered with old scars. He stepped into your space. Both you and him admiring your bodies, if it wasn’t for the cold water you would be in flames

Trying your best to not look at his cock. You started washing off the white paint, careful of not to get any in his eyes. And he did the same, washing your face and neck. A blush on your cheeks

“I believe that “Boy Savior” is an understatement—” Feeling his toned stomach under the soapy washcloth. “You are more of a man than a lot of people out there.”

“Can I kiss you?” He brushed his thumb along the curves your your lips

“Yes…”

Ekko leaned into your lips. He hungered you for a long time, scared that if he got to close you’ll disappear like all his past loved ones

He touched the purple bruise on your rib as he wanted to pull you in, you gasped in pain breaking the kiss. His touch recoiled, then slowly came back in feather like stokes

“You should have never gotten this hurt!” He was angry at himself, it should have been him getting hurt. Not you, never you!

“I shouldn’t have been so focused on destroying those Shimmer barrels…” He pressed his forehead on yours. Eyes crimson with hurt

“We signed up for this, I did too. And if making the Underground better means a few scrapes and headaches, then I’m more than happy to do so.” Thumb wiping away his stray tears

“What can I do to make this up to you?” He kissed the pulse of your wrist

“If you shut up and make love to me.”

He backed you against the rocky wall, water cascading in between your bodies. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Moans concealed by the rush of the water

Ekko’s hips meet yours as he dropped and lifted your body on his arms. Cock hitting you gummy walls and g-spot

“¡Clávame más fuerte! ¡Quiero que se te rompa el bicho de tan duro que me rócese!” (Fuck me harder! I want you to break your dick with how hard you give it to me!)

Nails scratching his back, adding to the multitude of wounds on his body. You both were going to hurt so bad in the morning

“You drive me crazy, chica (girl)!”

You came in his cock in the final thrust, body pulsating with the warmth of your orgasm and the ice of the water

He pulled out and came on your stomach, kissing your neck hard enough to leave traces of your escaped. Your legs jelly at the knees

You and Ekko spent the last hours of night in the streams. Basking in the freshness of your flesh. Having each other on every wall and surface possible

“You know what I’m feelin’ right now?”

“Like your cock is going to fall off?” You said into his chest as you laid back with him on the wooden bench looking at the moon. Ekko’s chest rumbled in a chuckle

“That, and a hot bowl of asopao de pollo (chiken and rice soup).”

Sevika

Sevika definitely has a thing for Latinas

You moved to Piltover a few years ago and started working at The Last Drop. There was an influx of Spanish speaking people and Vander was desperately looking for a bilingual server

He hired you on the spot not caring how many years of experience you had

She basically became your unofficial body guard. Scaring of creeps that got to friendly while you were working

You taught her how to play dominos and you still ended up losing! You had to make her sorullitos (fired cornmeal sticks) for a month

She helps you give out food to the kids and homeless people around the Undercity. It breaks her heart seeing you cry over the people that suffer thanks to Piltover

After she lost her arm you took care of her. Making her cope with a new life change and the challenges that came with it

And you best believe you chewed her ear off about the whole Vander and Silco situation. Refusing to work for Silco and running your own food business to get by

There aren’t many South East Asians in the Undercity or in Piltover, and you bonded because of the lack of a community.

I think you guys talk a lot about the men in your life, how they treated both of you with violence. How toxic males can be thanks to your cultures never giving them consequences for there actions

Talking about how unworthy Sevika felt for just being born a woman, and a queer woman at that. How she finally broke away from all the stereotypes and became a force to be reckoned with after the death of her father

You heal each others soul wounds by embracing the best of your heritage 

She knows all the Indian beauty secrets! She is the one that washes and oils your hair. Saying that “you don’t know how to take care your hair”

“Sevika, I feel like my scalp is about to start bleeding!” You wiggled away as the scalp massager dug into the sensitive parts of your head

“That means it’s working! Stop being a baby.” She poured more warm oil on your head and ignored your whining

She just wants to do something nice for you and loves your reaction as you see how long your hair as gotten since getting together

A lot of the spices that you both use for your cooking it basically nonexistent in the underground

And if they sell them, they go for an arm and a leg (hahaha amputation joke)

So Sevika makes sure that she puts special orders in the smuggling catalog for all the spices, herbs and produce that you both need to make delicious meals

You put her on to tropical fruits. From the massive avocados to the sweet and sour passion fruits

“So when I’m getting a taste of your papaya?” She is a massive flirt.

Sevika’s love language is making you a cup of chai every morning

She is mostly vegetarian, only occasionally eating meat. So her favorite food that you make is also a labor of love

So I just know she loves the pasteles you make. They literally take you a whole day to prepare. From cooking the pork or chicken, toasting the banana leaves on the stove, grading the plantains, making the red oil, and wrapping them up to look like a present

It was the holiday season and you sold almost 30 preorders of your 12 count pasteles. Making big bank, but losing your peace filling all these orders in time for Christmas Eve

She says that she will “help” but she stands leaning on the counter as you fold the banana leaves in place as she munches on plantain chips

Sevika thought you were the sexiest at home in your batas (old lady dresses or muumuus). She could clearly see the outline of your body thanks to the sheer fabric. Especially liking how your nipples got hard in the cold air and the fat mound of your hairy pussy when you didn’t wear panties with the nightgown

With a frustrated look on your face when the leaf doesn’t want to work with you

Cursing under your breath “Hijo de puta— yo te digo…” (“Son of a bitch— I’m telling you…”)

“You look so sexy when you’re frustrated, mamí…” Sevika cradled your hips from behind. Kissing the curve of your nec

“Was helping me all bullshit Sevika?”

“You forget that I only have one arm left?” She said patting her empty shoulder. Smirking at your eye roll

You weren’t amused at all at her joke. “Haha, very funny…”

“But I have other ways to help you at least…” Her hand slowly creeping under your dress strap

“Like what?” You questioned her, eyebrows raised

Sevika was in between your legs as you made the last batch of pasteles for the night

Nightgown discarded on the floor

Sucking on your clit each time you finished folding a pastel. Slowly pulling it away from her mouth and letting it go with a pop. Her two middle fingers thrusting in and out of your entrance

She watched from the kitchen floor as your breasts heaved at every lick of her tongue. Biting your outer lips when you didn’t fold the leaves fast enough

“¡Comeme la tota así mismoooo!” (Eat my pussy just like thatttt!) You made those pasteles as if you were on steroids

Her nose pressed against your mound breathing the smell of your cunt. The smell of a grown woman was intoxicating to her.

Sevika speed up her fingers and tongue, you wanted to come undone. But pushed through the last of them

Your hands braced the counter as your orgasm took over. Raising one of your legs of the ground so Sevika could drink your release fully. She groaned at the taste, vibrations sending heat through your overstimulated body

You sucked a breath, peering down your bottom half. Sevika resting her head on your inner thigh, sucking purple marks on your flesh. Jaw coated in your silk. Grey eyes drinking in your dazed face

“I believe I was more than enough help. Don’t you agree, muñeca (doll)?” She gave you clit a little kiss, pleasure running up your spine

“Eres terrible, ‘Vika—” (you’re terrible, ‘Vika—) you let out breathlessly. Ruining your fingers through her short hair

She took her fingers out of your pussy, and you leaned down to taste yourself on her. Indulging in the salty sweet flavor of your bodies. Lapping her fingers clean and then kissing Sevika. Her lips push against yours

“Mmm my compliments to the chef.” You had more than one good fuck that night on the floor with Sevika

Who knew that pasteles were such an aphrodisiac?

If they ask you why these were so delicious you just smile shyly and say: “I just put a little extra love (orgasm) into them.”

Vander

As a bartender he absolutely was inspired to make a cocktail menu for you. Makes you his official taste tester for any new drink he plans to put in the menu

You owned a small food stand in the Underground ever since he was working in the mines

And it was always packed with people in and out of work

You got together shortly after Vander stopped your shop from getting mugged by some punks

Vander is a coffee lover and always makes it a routine to get up early in the mornings just so that he can have a hot cup of Puerto Rican joe with fresh butter and bread on the side

Thankful that you always feed his kids when he doesn’t have time to cook for them, and free at charge with at that

But he always sneaks more than enough coin into your tip jar when he visits you after a rough day

“Does Vander ever feed you guys at all?” You asked serving another customer

“He does but he burns everything he cooks—” Vi said licking her fingers clean from the delicious poultry you made

“Can I have another piece of chicken, tití (auntie)?” Powder said holding her empty plate at you, big eyes looking at you with love. Mouth covered in red sauce

“Con esos ojitos (with those little eyes) who can say no to you Pow-Pow!”

Yes his kids call you auntie and I’ll take that to the grave!

Whenever you call him “Hound” he blushes! And you make fun of him a lot for it as well. Calling him a dog as you catch him looking at your ass as you bend over to get plates and watching your tits jiggle as you make your fresh pressed juices.

Coquito (coconut eggnog) is his all time favorite drink, second to guarapo (sugar cane juice). And when you gave him a shot to try it solidifies his want to open a bar so he can make delicious drinks like this

When it’s the holidays Vander lets you have parrandas (live Puerto Rican music parade) at the bar. You introduced him to el guiro (a type of musical instrument) and la pandereta (small hand drum). And he plays them really well!

“Maybe those big hands are not just useful for punching things, huh Vander?” You played along side him as you watched the kids for a dance circle. Chuckling at Powder’s lack of feet coordination as she stepped on Mylo’s toes

“I will have to show you sometime. You will certainly be surprised, love.” You blushed, quickly going over the other musicians to sing your part of the chorus. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, loving the attention he gave you

The kids went to sleep as midnight approached. The adults enjoying their late drinking. Vander was leaning against the bar as you danced with Sevika. Watching you teach her the basics of bachata so that she could impress the girl she was pinning for

“You’re not so bad at this, Sevika!” She twirled you around

“Na, I’m better at the cards than all of this.” Sevika said, still looking at your feet as you guided her steps

In the corner of your eye you saw this other girl go up to Vander. You didn’t hear what they were thanks to the loud music. But you saw him shaking his head “no”. The girl turned around annoyed, flicking her wrist at him as dismissing a dog. Wishing her eyes found a brain in the back for her skull as she rolled them. You thought she finally back off. But you were wrong…

She pressed her ass against the front of his pants, shaking her flat flabby ass. Vander choking in his drink in pure shock. Trying to push the girl away

Before Sevika could stop you, you were already across the other side of the bar. Fist clenched, Vander making brief eye contact with you. His eyes widened at your wrath. Uh oh…

“¡Èl dijo que no jodia puta! ¡Te voy a romper la cara!” (He said no you fucking whore! I’m going to break your face in!) Grabbing her hair by the root and dragging her off to the bar floor. Her screaming and sinking her nails on your forearms, drawing blood. You screamed at her attach

You hear people cheer and yell at you to: “teach her to not touch anyone’s man again”.

Throwing your body weight back and making her crash into the round tables. Before the girl could even process the pain you straddled her stomach and punched her face in. The alcohol in your system making you rabid

“Love, that’s enough!” Vander pulled your fingers off the girls body. You were thrashing against his hold. Sevika hoisted the other woman taking her out of the bar.

“Everyone, out!” Vander yelled. You watched bodies move with blurry eyes. You still thirsty for blood.

“¡Déjame! (Let go!) ! Ugh, Vander!” He threw you over his shoulder. You punching his muscular back for him to let you go. He took you into the supply closet behind the bar. Dropping your feet on the floor.

“Let me out Vander! She is not getting off that easy for touch you like that!”

You wobbled like a new born fawn, holding the shelves for support. Vander locked the door and turned on the dim light abode your heads.

“Sit your ass down! I’m not tellin’ you twice…” Vander warned, pointing at the large empty barrel. You stared him down on your tippy toes. Blue eyes piercing yours.

“You really want to go there, sweetheart?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. Getting close enough to smell the whiskey and smoke on his breath. The smell of your man

You wanted those hands around your throat. You wanted him to fuck the brat out of you. Your fight for dominance was short lived

“Fine.” You caved in and sat down with an annoyed plop. Grumbling at him with your arms crossed

God, did you love the control he had over you. You loved a man that put you in your place, while still being caring and loyal

Vander turned his back to you while looking for the first aid kit. Admiring the thickness of his body. And those pants that made his ass and legs look so delectable

“If I wouldn’t have stopped you, you’ll be heading to Stillwater by the end of the night.” Vander stood in front of you, raising your head to meet his warm gaze

“I’m sorry—” You whispered as your eyes became teary

“Christ, love! You would have killed her!” He lifted your arms to see the damage. Cleaning your wounds with alcohol. You hissed at the burn. Vander slowly wrapping your forearms with white gauze

“I’ve never seen you act like that before—” Breaking the silence. “I didn’t think a lady such as yourself could be so violent, so jealous…”

Vander would never admit that he loved what you did to that girl. How sexy you were while beating the shit out of a stranger just for him. It made him feel loved in a fucked up way

He lifted your bandaged arms to his lips. Breathing the scent of your wounds

“Tell me, love. Are all Puerto Rican women like that?” He asked innocently, looking at your face with curiosity

“I’m not just a jealous woman, Vander… I’m going to tell you a little secret about us puertorriqueñas.” You said stroking his bearded cheek. “We are territorial. And we fight for what is ours, even if it means that I have to fucking sink my teeth into any whore that touches mi hombre (my man)” You said between your gritted teeth, pulling Vander towards you. Tongue sinking into his mouth tasting faint of whiskey

You pulled his belt, harshly tugging it open. Feeling his hard cock through the fabric. God, did you want to get that whore’s smell of him. Replace it with the scent of your cunt

“You are mine, Vander. And I am yours.”

His eyes dialed, pants ever so uncomfortable. Vander launched at you, lifting you by your legs and kissing your lips. Your back gently hitting against the liquor shelves

He quickly discarded your bottoms, you gave his length a few pumps then lined it up against your cunt. You could never get bored of the sight of his cock, or the hot stretch it gave you

“Choke me, Vander!” You yelled, pussy filled with him. His hand was placed in your neck in a moment. Fingers pressing your pulse points.

Vanders thrusting was meet with the sounds of clinking bottle and the rattling of the shelves. He was a beast, slapping your entrance at full force as moans were caught on your airway. Velvety walls sucking him in. Heavy balls knocking against the push of your cheeks.

“I’m gonna cum, lovie—” He let go of the hold on your throat. “Where do you want it?”

“In my mouth!” Vander dismounted you. Cock glossy from the slick of your pussy

You kneeled on the ground, fingers fucking your pussy. Taking that big veiny dick in one go, slurping your combined juices as his tip hit the back of your throat. Vander’s hand resting in your hair. Your other hand massaging his balls

Vander came with a grunt, back of his head hitting the wooden shelves. Gasping in surprise as it coated your mouth. He was going to need ice for that later, you thought, enjoying the creaminess of his cum

Sticking your tongue out to show him his release. Then moaning as you swallowed it

“You dirty girl.” Biting your lip as he cursed at your seduction

“My dirty dog.”

You licked his cock clean. Pulling his foreskin in between your lips. Kissing it all around and making out with his tip slit. You nibbled at his shaft, using a bit of teeth to draw gasps from Vander

You brought your mouth to his pubic bone. Biting his skin, hard enough to leave marks. And leaving hickeys on his stomach

Loving how your food left some extra pounds on him. Making his tummy all the more squishy and soft

“You’re eating me alive, love—” You giggled on his skin, slowly stroking his spent cock. “Mark your territory, mi loba (my she-wolf).”

“Con placer…” (With pleasure…) You gave his cock a final kiss. Long lasting, a little red bruise at the side of his shaft. Moaning at your work, eyes sparkling up at him

Vander helped you off your knees, and leaned you against his chest. You rested there for a while, calming down for your sex crazed high

“Do you want me to make you a passion fruit mock-tail, darlin’?” Vander rasped, hand soothing the pulse of your throat 

“Yesss please, and with extra—” Vander shushed you with a kiss

“And with extra ice and pineapple pieces. I know, amor (love), I know.” He pecked your forehead

[chdarling]

Friends, we are there. We are at that point. ICE is abducting people off the streets and sending them to concentration camps in El Salvador. That is happening. Trump has said that he’d “love” to send the “homegrowns” to these prisons and told the president of El Salvador to build 5 more. Kilmar Abrego Garcia was kidnapped due to an "administrative error" and the Republican regime is refusing to bring him home, even though the Supreme Court ruled 9-0 that they must. A US citizen from Georgia was arrested in Florida for being an "unauthorized alien" and they refused to release him, even as his mother waved his birth certificate in their faces. (I just learned while making this post that he has now been released and reunited with his family, thank fucking god.) A hundred other horrors have happened that we don't even know about.

No one is coming to save us. We have to save us.

Please, please, please find a (peaceful!) protest this Saturday and attend if you are able. There are also protests planned for May 1. And, frankly, there should be protests every single day, but we have to build momentum and community for that. So let's start.

If you can’t attend a protest, please consider taking another form of action. I was depressed on the train this morning and brainstormed a very incomplete and unofficial list of Things You Can Do:

Print posters advertising the protests and put them up around your neighborhood, your school, your apartment mail room, public restrooms, anywhere.

Spread the word on social media, yes, but also text your family and friends and ask if they know about the 4/19 and 5/1 protests. This date is not getting the same publicity as 4/5 and people are reporting social media posts being suppressed. Direct communication is the most effective.

Call your representatives. The 5 Calls app makes it extremely easy, even if you have phone anxiety. If your reps, like mine, mostly have their voicemails shut down, email them instead. Resistbot makes it super simple. I know it feels like screaming into the void, but it does have an impact. And even if it turns out it doesn’t, it takes 2 minutes. Do it out of spite. Just do it.

Stop buying anything that’s not absolutely essential and start preparing yourself for a general strike. I don’t know that we will get enough of the population on board to do this, but it is our best hope, and each person that is prepared for it makes the reality of it happening a little more likely. If you can, aim to have food and supplies stocked for a few weeks. If you have the means, be extra prepared to help your neighbors. Talk to your friends about this. Start strategizing.

(Also, a note on that general strike website: I'm sharing it for info, but I know a lot of people don't want to sign their name to a strike card. I get it. You don't have to sign up for anything to get prepared for a strike. You don't have to sign up for anything to stop giving your money to this economy. You don't have to sign up for anything to strike, when the day comes. You don't even have to tell anyone. You can just do it.)

If you are financially able, donate to your local food pantry or mutual aid network. The Republican Regime is cutting funding to the food banks in advance of an economic crisis. We are only as strong as the most vulnerable among us. Help your neighbors! A general strike cannot happen without community solidarity. Start building that solidarity now.

Cancel any subscription you can. Especially Amazon. Fuck Amazon. And Target, and Walmart.

If you have to buy something, buy local. Support your community as much as possible. And hey, it's almost farmers market season, hell yeah!

Mask up!!! Do not throw disabled people under the bus in this movement. Wear a mask. It protects the most vulnerable among us, and it protects you. Not just from disease, but also facial recognition technology. And, you know, RFK Jr.

Stay alive. I am sure I’m not the only one who has plunged to new depths of despair over the past few months. Find something to cling to, even if it’s only spite (some days, that’s all I have). Please stay alive. We need you.

DO NOT GIVE INTO THE FEAR OF BEING CRINGE. Taking action in the face of fascism is cool as fuck and anyone who tells you otherwise is trapped in a prison of their own making and they will bring us all down. Do not get distracted by moral purity tests. Do not be afraid, do not be embarrassed. BE CRINGE, BE FREE.

And finally, most importantly, do not let perfect be the enemy of good. We can all only do the best we can under this oppressive capitalist hellscape we’re forced to endure. We're all struggling, we're all tired, we're all scared. Do not guilt yourself into despair and apathy if you have to buy groceries at a big box store or if you can't take off work for a protest because you'll lose your job/house/healthcare. This is the system. This is how it's designed. The important thing is to try. If you can't do one thing, find something else you can do. Little acts add up, and we are all in this together.* As my dad likes to remind me, no one can do everything, but everyone can do something.

Let's do something. <3

*yes I did start humming high school musical here

[seeliemansi]

You Took Him Home (Mr. Crawling x Reader)

Synopsis: There is no ghost in the abandoned rumored haunted building your friends dared for you to visit. No, not anymore. Because you took it- you took him home. And you are not sure how to ask him to go back home. (He is just so sweet, cute, and adorable)

a/n: would love and appreciate your feedbacks, reblogs and likes! let's keep the homicipher community alive! 🫶🏼 btw, this is just a test draft

—------------

“You're firing me?” You asked, terrified.

“No….no…no! You misunderstood.” Principal Sarah shook her head in disagreement. Hands waving in front. “We just think..” She paused. “That you needed more rest. We love to have you here. The kids love you. The parents trust you. It's just-”

You got lost on what the principal was saying as your attention was caught by the crawling man, giggling at the ABCD cards posted on the wall. He looked at you, and happily pointed at the word “A” with an illustration of an apple. Apple, the word he learned today. He chirply said apple and giggled when you dare to steal a nod in his direction, praising him, so he won't bother your important talk.

However, your face contorted in concern as he continued crawling around the floor and looking for things he wasn't familiar with.

“Uhm…are you listening?” Your eyes snapped back to the principal, who was now looking behind her, frowning, as she tried to look at whatever it was behind her that made your brows furrowed with concern.

“Ah! Yes, yes. I will happily take the break. I’ve- The accident was just so traumatizing that sometimes my mind tends to wander. I know my doctor already said that I can continue working but I am grateful that you will allow me to have more breaks. As long…as you know you are not firing me.” You try to bring her attention back to you. Biting your cheeks at the inside as you try to focus on your problem at hand. And ignore the sound he is making as he crawls around.

“As I said before, we are not firing you. The substitute teachers will take over your class while you are gone. And we hope that it will help with your full recovery. You are a good teacher. I admit that I don't want to lose you. I wish you well.” She said, eyes sincere and warm hands squeezed your shoulder with reassurance. You can only give her a genuine smile, and was just grateful for her trust.

Because sincerely, you are not sure how you are going back to normal after a one week break when you know damn well that Mr. Crawling will be in your home forever.

Because….uhmm…well….you invited him in.

You cannot even blame yourself as to why.

How could you not?!

He saved you from the falling debris, when a part of the abandoned building collapsed. He took the fall and even bled, you were not sure how ghosts bleed, when they are already dead but he did, and hugged you tightly to protect you.

He even gave you head pats to calm you down when you panicked, thinking you are not going to be back home anymore. You will lose your hard earned career, your hardwork, your dreams.

And even follows you around as you look for the exit, being helpful and cheerful to keep your mind off the panic that sets in when it's just you and the silence.

No soul exchange, no money involved, he was just happy he was able to help you.

So when you finally found the way out, you thanked him and left. Thinking that was it, grateful for his kindness.

But one day, before you started teaching again, you went back and found him at the same spot, at the same position before you left him, waiting for you to come back. It was a week after that but he waited patiently for you. The way you watch his crestfallen face lights up when he sees you. His giggle; loud and cheerful. His smile is so wide, warm, familiar, and welcoming.

So how could you not!?

So how could you just leave him behind?

Well, maybe that one week is just you training yourself how you get used to his presence. And not act like a crazy person after a very traumatizing accident.

Ah…yes.. that's that.

You can do it.

You nodded as you lie to yourself and squat down and stared at the item Mr. Crawling was pointing at, and asking for you to share what it was.

[ivystoryweaver]

Your Father’s Rival!Leto Atreides x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Read the prequel (but this can be read alone) - Your Father's Rival!Leto Atreides x F!virgin!reader

BEAUTIFUL ART for this story

Word count: 3.9k

NSFW MDNI. AU in the sense that there's no mention of Lady Jessica or Paul Atreides. Not beta'd, angst, smut, p in v, creampie, fingering, choking-ish, angry sex, tiny bit of thigh fucking, nipple play, breeding kink, pregnant sex, Leto is possessive af

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Your husband’s heated breath falls warm and heavy on your neck. Broad hips push into you from behind, his cock sheathed in your slick, wet channel.

Hands grasping at you possessively, he cups your breast and spreads his other palm protectively over your growing abdomen. He groans, rutting into you faster, tracing the rounded shape of you.

The way he’s stretching you, filling you, sends your back arching, breathy moans steadily growing louder as he thrusts faster and deeper.

A delicious pressure builds deep in your center. Leto's thick fingers inch lower, strumming at your sensitive folds until your gasps of pleasure escalate into cries of ecstasy.

Your tired, swollen body seizes in pleasure, liquifying in his arms as he loses himself inside you, groaning on your ear.

As you come down together, his nose brushes along your jawline. He holds you against his chest, urging you to give into your exhaustion and rest.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

The next day, you are summoned to an official meeting. Your husband sits in the center of a large, stone conference table, with his advisors flanking him on the right and left. He greets you with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, motioning for you to stand while everyone else takes an oddly intimidating seat.

"We have some questions for you, Duchess," Thufir Hawat, the head of Leto's security begins after clearing his throat.

"Questions?" Your gaze flies to Leto's, whose eyes flicker away. He strokes his beard pensively.

"Indeed," Hawat continues. "Some communications between you and your father have...raised concerns."

You shake your head. "What communications?" Attempting to catch your husband's gaze, to read anything about what is going on, your throat goes dry. He won't even look at you.

"Leto?"

"The Duke would like you to enlighten us as the nature of some of these messages."

Smoothing your hand over your abdomen instinctively, you bristle. "What messages? I haven't been in contact with my father."

The gentlemen at the table with your husband exchange glances, readjusting uncomfortably in their seats.

"We have a number of transmissions using your personal code," Hawat went on. "But you're claiming you haven't spoken to your father?"

"Leto, what is this?" You approach your husband boldly, placing both hands on the table top, which prompts Duncan Idaho, Leto's swordmaster, to his feet.

"Let's keep this formal," Hawat instructs, motioning for you to step back.

Your throat tightens, pulse racing as Duncan stares you down coldly.

He's...defending Leto. From you.

"For fuck's sake, stand down," Leto orders, his tone clipped. You aren't certain, at first, if he is more frustrated with you or with Duncan.

His eyes, dark and unreadable, land on you. "When did you last contact your father?"

Is this really happening? Leto is actually interrogating you.

"To give him our happy news," you desperately utter, both hands wrapped around your rounded belly. "Weeks and weeks ago. And nothing since, I swear it."

"Yes, we have that message here," Thufir Hawat confirms as Duncan takes his seat. "It reads, 'We can rejoice. It is done. I am with child.'" His eyes narrow pensively. "What did you mean by, 'it is done'?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," you scoff, glancing between Hawat and your husband in disbelief. "My father knew Leto and I wanted a child and I let him know."

"'It is done' sounds more like a task: a chore, or an assignment," Hawat argues, "not like 'happy news'. Was this your goal all along? Marriage to House Atreides, to the Duke of Caladan, to carry an Atreides heir, to gain a foothold here? To report back to your father?"

"How dare you?" You hiss, eyes brimming with tears. "I have not been communicating with my father."

"I have the messages here - "

"They weren't sent by me," you insist. "I haven't spoken to him."

"But this is your personal code. Who else would have sent them?"

You glare at your accuser defiantly. "Now you're asking the right questions."

"Give us the room." The voice of your husband, smooth and steady, sends his trusted council scurrying as he stands. Fingertips pressing against the tabletop, he sighs, realizing Duncan hasn't left his side.

He pats the taller man on the shoulder and nods for him to leave. With a final glare your way, Duncan complies.

As soon as you are alone with your husband, you cover your mouth with one hand to try to stifle any more of an emotional display than you've already given. But it's too late since tears are streaking down your cheeks.

"Forgive me," Leto says quietly, fidgeting with his ducal ring before easing around the table to stand in front of you.

Wiping your eyes, you try to control the waver of your voice. "Did you really have your high council question me like a suspect or a criminal?"

"A criminal?" One of Leto's dark eyebrows arches wryly. "Duncan would not have behaved himself if you were a criminal."

"Nice to know," you spat. "You couldn't have asked me yourself? Was that really necessary? It was humiliating. And frightening."

"I apologize, truly, my love," Leto softly insists. "The communications were brought to my attention, and yes, I could have asked you myself, but a brief, formal questioning quickly showed everyone that there is nothing to hide."

"I do have nothing to hide," you insist. "I've spoken with my father maybe three times since I arrived here."

"There are at least a dozen messages transmitted with your code," Leto reiterates. "Talking with you is the first step in what will need to be an investigation."

Moving into your personal space, he peers deeply into your eyes and gathers your hands in his. "If you say you didn't send the messages, I believe you, but you're right. We need to find out who did."

"I swear to you Leto," you tell him, meeting his gaze openly. "I'm not spying for my father. Or sending him anything."

He nods, but the wrinkle on his forehead deepens. "But...he asked you to. Didn't he?"

You swallow hard, wondering how your marriage could possibly benefit, or even survive your father's initial directive: to seduce the Duke and provide him with an heir. But spying was never part of it.

"I just thought...after what I admitted to you," Leto went on, "How I wanted you for myself, to take you away from you father - I thought maybe he'd shared a similar idea. Hatched a plot, for you to come here and undermine my position."

You could lie now. Deny everything, swear utter loyalty to Leto - let him believe you were an innocent, doe eyed virgin, who had fallen for his trap. He likely preferred to think of you that way. Most men would.

But the thing of it was - you truly loved him. And after he'd confessed to you, you found yourself unsure of how to live with anything other than honesty with him, when he was directly questioning you.

"It was the same for me, at first," you slowly admit. "My father encouraged me to...show interest in you. To entice you to warm to me."

Leto's jaw clenches, his face stiff as his starched uniform. "So I am a part of your father's game. His play for power."

"That's what he wanted when he arrived here, but after that gala, and especially after the first time in the garden, I knew it would be the easiest thing in the world to fall in love with you."

Reaching for his cheek, you rake your fingers through his beard. "But he never asked me to spy on you, I swear it. Even if he did, I would've said no because I truly love you." Squeezing your joined hand, you kiss his knuckles. "My sweet husband. I could never hurt you." Your gaze locks with his. "I haven't sent any new messages."

His jaw shifts pensively as he wrestles with doubt. "Why didn't you tell me the truth before, when I confessed to you? You made me feel like I did this wretched thing, but you did the same thing to me. Why didn't you admit it?"

"Because you would've sent me away," you emphatically insist. "And it was too late because I was already in love with you. I couldn't let my father's stupid rivalry poison any more of my life, or take away the one good thing in my life."

"But you've admitted that you were sent here for a reason, and now these messages we've found... Thufir won't let this go easily. You should've told me."

"We both played a rival's game, Leto, but we won it," you say with conviction, pushing his hand over your swollen abdomen. "You, most of all, because you have my devotion and my loyalty. I am Atreides. This child is Atreides."

He nods, his eyes softening with understanding, but you see doubt lingering there. "You are your father's daughter. Nothing can change that. You love him. You love your home."

"This is my home," you utter wholeheartedly as his forehead drops to yours. "You are my family."

"I am unsure I deserve to be," Leto murmurs against your cheek. "You are not mistaken about the rivalry with your father and myself. And both of us used you like a game piece."

"But you didn't," you refute, locking your arms behind his neck. "You told me the truth before we married. I could have walked away. I wanted to stay. It's true, I wanted to please my father, because that's the way I've had to survive. Caladan has given me a way out of that life. I would never betray it. Especially not now."

Leto embraces you and you melt against the warmth of his chest, grateful, praying he believes you.

Only, a moment later, Thufir Hawat appears.

"Are you satisfied?" Leto asks the older man, who nods once, and retreats.

Tears burn your eyes as you back away, horrified. "You were still interrogating me? A-are they all listening?"

"I promised them you would be questioned fairly and thoroughly, to clear your name," Leto explains, "So that they would be sure to see you the way I see you."

"Those words were meant for your ears, Leto," you cry, shaking your head, wrapping your arms around yourself.

Duncan appears and Leto grants another infuriatingly calm nod. "Escort my wife to her chambers. Guard her with your life."

Your face crumples, heart dropping to your stomach as you're ushered away to what feels like house arrest. You adore Leto, but if he wants to exert the control your father is famous for, you're going to put up a fight.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Your husband comes to your chambers after lunch, dismissing your staff with a wave of his hand.

You glare at him before bowing deeply. "Your Grace."

He smirks. "Duchess. I trust you are comfortable."

"As comfortable as any caged bird ever was, I suppose."

"You are angry. I understand."

"How perceptive, Your Grace. It is no wonder the Emperor favors you so."

"Are you finished?" He snaps, dark eyes flashing. "You can be angry with me if you wish, but there is protocol to be followed here. The evidence against you carries the penalty of death for treason. Do you understand that?"

"I understand that something is terribly wrong here. Someone has accessed or stolen my personal code and transmitted messages in my name - messages I know nothing about. And instead of protecting me, you're interrogating me."

"I came here to check on you and the baby," he says sincerely.

"Your heir and his mother are healthy and functioning properly in their assigned roles, I assure you."

Leto’s nostrils flare, his lips pulling into a thin line. “You’ll want to remember who your allies are, my lady. You’re a stranger in a foreign land.”

With a glare as cold as ice, he traces the shape of your cheek with his fingertips.

You flinch almost imperceptibly, swallowing thickly as you realize your own husband has all but threatened you.

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

The ice in your veins seeps into the halls of Castle Caladan, sending servants scurrying with whispers of intrigue and espionage.

You expect your husband to leave you in your rooms, locked away and guarded by Duncan, but he joins you later, after you've washed and readied yourself for bed.

Without a moment's hesitation, and acting as if you are in his chambers, where you normally both sleep, he undresses, washes up and climbs into bed with you.

Your body tenses as his arm slips around your waist, his breath ghosting the back of your neck as he presses his chest against your back.

"Sleep well, my Duchess," he murmurs, palm spreading protectively over your abdomen.

Jaw clenching in fury, you shrug him off. "Perhaps Your Grace has failed to realize these are my chambers, and not your own."

"All of this castle belongs to me, as do you, my lady," he breathes lowly on your neck, teeth nipping at your flesh as he slips his fingers under your silky gown, running both hands over your thighs and stomach possessively.

"I am not your property," you hiss, squirming in his hold. Your backside rubs against his cock, alerting you the the fact that he is completely naked, hard and leaking already.

He groans, rutting against the round curve of your ass, hands tracing over your rounded shape to cup your heavy, swollen breasts. A breathy moan rushes out of you as he teases your tender nipples, pausing for a moment to tug your gown over your head and toss it aside.

His tongue swirls in your ear as one hand slides down to the wet, weeping core of you. You almost hate your body for responding to him so eagerly.

"Remember the first time I slipped my finger inside you?" He goads, stroking your clit with a featherlight tease. "You were so tight I could barely get my knuckle into you."

He plunges two fingers inside, swirling them into the spongy softness he feels there.

Despite your worry and anger over the day's events, your hips find a familiar rhythm rocking against your husbands dextrous digits, coaxing you toward mind-shattering release.

"I couldn't believe you let me touch you like that," he grunts, working his hand in and out of you faster. "I thought you were so innocent. So sweet." His thumb finds your clit and your back arches as you moan out his name.

He cinches you closer, back against his bare chest, one hand working you open, furiously fingerfucking you while using his hold on your breast to pinch your nipple punishingly. He keeps you there, stroke after stroke, for several quiet moments, rubbing his cock against you hungrily.

"But it was all an act," he growls, hand moving so fast, your body starts to vibrate with an all-encompassing bliss.

"You were on your father's errand," he spits, rutting into you, his cock slipping between your spread thighs. He moans as your slick drips down and coats him as he thrusts faster and faster. "And I've been nothing but a fool."

With that admission, he yanks his fingers away from you, leaving you teetering on the edge of a life changing orgasm. You cry out at the loss of stimulation, clawing through a haze of lust to determine why he's rolled away from you completely.

"L-Leto," you pant, blindly reaching for him, emboldened, rather than deterred as he shrugs you off.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you push yourself up into a sitting position so you can peer down at him. Still panting, you trace the shape of his muscled arm, if only to see if he'll flinch and withdraw from your touch.

He does not.

So you trace over the lines and planes of his beautiful body, fingers dancing temptingly along his inner thigh until you wrap around his length and tug.

He swallows hard, desperate for your touch, but his eyes flash with the betrayal from the secret you've kept.

"You know," you begin, climbing over him, which takes some doing with your distended belly, "I think I've been in love with you my whole life."

With arms braced on either side of his head, you plant your knees beside his hips, lowering your dripping cunt to tease the tip of his cock. With a shift of your hips, forward and back, you let him glide through your folds, lowering yourself a little more with each pass.

"I wanted you since I was old enough to want a man," you tell him, rubbing your folds up and down his full length, gasping as he tilts his hips to meet your thrusts.

"You're the first man - the only man I ever fantasized about, when I touched myself, alone at night."

He groans as you line yourself up with his fat tip and slowly sink down seating yourself on him, taking him deep inside you. "Once I was a proper age, I would try to find the most discreet ways to ask my father when we could visit Caladan again. Just for a glimpse of you. So I could see the thickness of your beard, hear the deep cadence of your voice. So I could renew my fantasies of ever being with a man like you."

Leto's hands grip your hips, pushing and pulling you, moving you faster. He's panting now, sweat beading on his noble brow, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts, ripe and round, bouncing deliciously as you ride him.

"It's a nice story," he grounds out, thumbs digging into your hip bones bruisingly as his hips meet your thrusts. "I think you flatter me too much, Duchess."

"It's true," you growl, boldly wrapping one hand around his throat. Although you've never initiated a dominating move like this with your husband, something in you wants to make him snap - so he'll stop you or claim you or something. So he'll listen.

You squeeze gently. "Every word I've ever spoken to you has been the truth." Your grip tightens and you hear a sound from him that makes your pussy quiver and clamp down on him. "I'm yours. This body is yours. My heart is yours. My devotion, my life..." Your voice fades away, replaced by a long, breathy moan of ecstasy as you come, cunt fluttering and gripping and soaking his cock as he spurts inside you, erupting and filling you with his warmth.

You collapse against him, exhausted as the day's tension drains out of you. Leto rolls you gently to the side, allowing your heavy limbs to rest against the soft bed.

Curled up beside you as you lay on your back, he strokes the side of your breast, the swell of your tummy, the round shape of your hip, up and back again.

After a moment he feels your breath stutter. Reaching for your face, he finds your cheek wet.

"Will you try to send me away?" You brokenly whisper. "After the baby is born? Will you try to take him from me?"

"Oh my love," he breathes, easing over you gently, hand cupping your jaw as he gazes down at you. "As if I could tear you away from our child. I don't think any force in this universe could."

You tearfully smile as he presses a kiss to your cheek. "My pride is wounded by your secret plot. But you are my wife. I could not bear to be without you."

"Because of our child?" You question, your voice sounding small.

"Because you are mine."

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

The tension of what you admitted to your husband - that you initially followed your father's directive to seduce him - slowly fades away over the next few days. And any...frustrations Leto seems to feel are released privately as he bites and presses and fucks them into your body each night.

Quiet whispers reveal lingering doubts and fears, confessed between lovers in the still of the night. His favorite thing to hear you say when he's inside you has become, "I am Atreides, this child is Atreides."

Leto decides to throw a ball for your father again. It's been about a year since the last one and he declares that it could be a tradition of sorts - a sign of peace between your two worlds. So instead of secrets and plots, with each of you seducing the other, he intends to show the galaxy that your love and your union have truly united bitter rivals at long last.

The planning of the gala will hopefully bring to light who is sending the messages, or at least if communications are still being sent to your father. Leto begs your indulgence as he temporarily has you guarded.

You argue that your people - your new people, here on Caladan won't trust you if they see you guarded like a spy - if they see Leto's doubt of you. But he makes sure that it is made clear that threats have been made against his Duchess and she is well protected.

You agree to the terms, only until your father arrives for the gala. The concessions you make win back the council's trust, for now, at least. You are given a new security code to transmit personal messages. Leto sends a formal invitation from House Atreides to invite your father's household to the gala.

Leto asks for your indulgence in one final detail. He wishes to oversee the construction of the gown you will wear. It will bear the deep greens and blacks of House Atreides. Your gown will be fitted to show off the swell of your abdomen and ample breasts, accented by a handcrafted House Atreides hawk emblem necklace.

"You will be the jewel of all Caladan - their true Duchess," he declares. You find you have no objection to his claiming of you in this way. You love your father, but you're weary of the rivalry with Caladan and House Atreides, and your heart is now and forever with Leto, and your unborn son.

The night of the gala arrives and you are dressed, perfumed and adorned like an Empress. Your gown is a stunning statement of Leto's ownership over you. Your pregnant body is a banner of his accomplishment in winning his rival's most cherished prize.

He almost finds himself relieved that he is not a young man - that he has a modicum of control over his urges, and can resist, at least for a little while, the desire to tear the dress from your ripe body and claim you in a dark corridor before the gala even begins.

You feel proud and so in love with Leto. You truly have adored him your entire life, and once you were of age, your feelings for him began to deepen and mature into more than a childish crush. It was no chore at all to fall in love with him.

Tonight there will be no doubt in your father's mind that you are Atreides.

Your husband will be proud. Your mission is accomplished. And it cost you nothing. Because you have the love and family your father used against you your entire life.

part 3? completely up to you, i could go either way, kinda like the symmetry of this ending

✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧ ˚ · .✧

Leto Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[chuuniversal]

THE SECRET DESIRES OF A HUNTER

☆*:.｡ as a hunter of your caliber, you’ve sworn to serving and protecting your community from the likes of wanderers and those that’s don’t hold Linkon City’s interest at heart… but there are things that you yourself want as well…

note from chuu: i found this in my docs and wanted to rework it and sylus needs to be fucked so! here we are lmaoo!! wc is about 1.1k no minors and no ageless blogs pls n thanks!!

cw: groping (breasts), f! reader, titty sucking, clit pinching, sylus refers to himself as “papa” (twice), calls reader princess, missionary to mating press, hint of oral (f! receiving)

as a hunter, your duty is to protect and serve for the greater good of linkon city. fighting and slaying the likes of corrupted wanderers, going underground and gathering information that could disrupt the fabric of the community you hold dear. as a hunter, you hold a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, you’re to set an example for those looking to fill your shoes once you’re one with the universe. at times you enjoy what you do, but you can’t help but to have certain…needs.

you’re always protecting and defending, but at the end of the day who is going to do the same for you? who’s going to satisfy your wants and desires when you find yourself alone at night, that specific hunger pooling deep in your core as you try to satiate it yourself…that is until you met the annoyingly charming silver haired leader of onychinus with a lust for blood. and you.

he always manages to toy with you at your most vulnerable. sylus has you sat in his lap, broad chest pressing against your back as he snakes his hands under your thin lace camisole. his calloused palms once covered in blood now eclipsing your bra. “you’re squirming, something wrong?” he purs teasingly. “your hands…” you sigh softly, anticipating his touch as he slips the cups of your bra off to reveal your breasts. “what about my hands? you don’t like it when i touch you like this?”

sylus takes his time with you, eating up the way you whine for his touch, the pathetic look in your glazed over eyes begging for him to do something, anything!

he finally makes contact with your supple skin, massaging the softness of your tits meticulously and brushing against your pebbled nipples. “i can stop, just say so”. he nips at the shell of your ear, groaning and whispering his darkest desires for you. you really can’t help but melt into the palms of his hands, your thighs pushing and rubbing together as you try to satiate that need building in your core. you’ve been craving this kind of attention, hungry for his touch and that feeling of pleasure he pulls out of you every time the two of you are alone.

“poor thing, panties probably soaked” he chuckles deeply, continuing his assault groping your tits and tugging at your sensitive nipples. “you just needed papa to take care of you” he whispers before pinching a little harder, smiling devilishly as you writhe in pure ecstasy. “t-took you long enough” you whine, pout melting as you succumb to the pleasure.

he has you on your back now, crowding your space as he slots himself in between your supple thighs. sylus takes a nipple into his mouth, slowly sucking on the sensitive peak as he massages the other in his hand. his tongue is hot and sticky, swirling around the puffy bud until he takes it into his mouth, sucking until he releases with a pop. whines for him leave your pretty lips, your hands gripping at his bicep. he smirks at you as his thumb rubs small circles around your nipple. “tell me what you need, princess.”

you need him where it aches most, you’re tired of being toyed with, tired of waiting. locking your legs around his waist, you stare him in the eyes with a seriousness and hunger he hasn’t seen from you. “s-stop toying with me and fuck me already!” the sexual tension that smothered the atmosphere of the room thickened, so still and quiet you could hear a pin drop.

with a swiftness sylus now has your legs thrown over his shoulders and your hands held over your head. his eyes are a radiant crimson red and his voice is lowered and rasped. “and here i was trying to be a gentleman,” he rips your panties to the side, revealing your soaked cunt. spreading your slick folds, he rubs your clit before pinching it, ripping a squeal from you. “meanwhile you just wanted to be fucked stupid, is that it?” before you can spit back an insult, the tip of his cock pushes through tight rings of muscle until he’s in fully.

you gasp in shock as his hips move at a rapid rhythm, cock pumping in and out of your sloppy cunt as you moan and writhe from the intensity. he pushes your legs back to your chest, large hands gripping your pillowy thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t help that you’re sucking him in, velvety feel of your heat welcoming every inch of him. “mmm she needed this huh?” he groans, bending down to leave pretty blotchy marks on your neck. “you can hear how much she needed papa to take care of her, listen.” he stops talking and slows his thrusts so that the only sound is the lewd squelch every time he pushes in and out. “she’s got so much to say.”

the way he refers to your cunt like you’re not even in the room should have pissed you off… but your mind is clouded with every stroke. his condescending timbre unfortunately excites you, your pussy tightening anytime he teases you. you can feel yourself getting close, each stroke massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves within you. you stammer over your words and whine as your fingers fumble to play with your clit. the added sensation sending you over the edge as you moan louder, the high pitched cry at the end shushed with a sloppy kiss. sylus continues fucking into you, biting at your tongue and puffy lips like a starved animal.

“cum on it, that’s it. fuck!” he groans into your mouth as you mewl into his. euphoria radiates in your core until it finally bursts, shooting waves of pleasure through your body from your toes to your fingertips. you’ve never felt this kind of high, so overwhelming that you can’t help to babble mindlessly. “c-cumming! w-wait!” but it’s fallen on deaf ears, sylus himself lost in pleasure continues thrusting into you until he’s bored with the position. “awn now don’t give me that, i know you have one more in you.” he’s quick, turns you over so that your face is in the sheets and your ass is in the air.

you’d be lying if you told him you didn’t. you wanted more, the adrenaline rush so intoxicating that your fingers spread your slick folds for him without a thought. “d-don’t just gawk at it, either stick it in or eat it…” you weakly demand, whining as you start to play with your buzzy clit. sylus can’t help but laugh, you’re so cute when trying to assert yourself. it’s laughable that you said either, he thinks to himself as he spreads your pussy with his thumbs. he plans on ruining you the entire night, everything from devouring your sweet cunt to fucking you in every position imaginable until sunrise. but you don’t have to know that, before he’s nose deep he bites at your thigh. “yes ma’am.”

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆thank you for reading! if you enjoyed feel free to like, reblog and or comment! send an ask if you want, i don’t bite :3!

[irisinluv]

Caleb Love and deep space thoughts- SPOILERS AHEAD

Second update of brain dumping my thoughts as I play through the game… this time entirely Caleb focused

Ok so I’ve been reading Caleb’s anecdotes, dates, every scrap of info that becomes available to me…. And holy shit he’s such a simp!

Man almost fucking died, was lost in space for 2 weeks, and he’s just like “haha hey pipsqueak! Yea secret training mission, sorry, I’m back online!” As he’s in a hospital bed. Like baby boy not letting mc know he almost died???? And then the card/memory/whatever it’s called where he’s sick, and she has to basically beg him all day to let her in? Man wants to be Superman for her. Seriously, he’s out here becoming a pilot cuz it would pay well and help provide for mc, and if anything happened he could just whisk her away.

He literally worships the ground mc walks on. Obsessed with the necklace he gave him, kissing the pendant before each flight, not letting her lift a finger at the house when it comes to chore type things, using his evol to win her plushies at the claw machine… also he’s soooo obviously into the domestic life with mc! His house is bare bones before the reunion. Then MC shows up and there’s the scene where he’s surrounded by boxes, setting things up….. I picture him totally kicking himself for not having everything set up sooner, bc he got a house just so she could move in. I see him just living in an apartment that’s part of the officer barracks. There’s no reason why he has a whole ass house if not for mc. He just didn’t expect her to have infiltrated his ranks as a spy and to pop up so soon…. But hey she’s here now and so he’s totally buying everything and having a hot ikea build sesh in that slutty little tank top of his.

Oh and you know he’s a cheeky idiot about the fact that mc picked his room when deciding where to stay. Like we got that from the gameplay obviously…. But I just want to take moment to appreciate how hard that man must have been grinning on the inside. I also think it’s so cute that mc really is just making his place a second home. She’s got a little garden going at his house! She talks about the little yellow flowers she planted there in one of the text messages, and when he mentioned restocking his snacks on a community post mcs already planning on raiding it.

Also he’s been so obsessed with her since they were kids. Like he’s got some weird amnesia brain trauma shit going on after his deep space incident, and he scored poorly on the mental health portion of his exams (not him answering the “what’s the greatest challenge with flight missions?” Question with “it’s hard to get home on time”), and I’m assuming he was also an experiment by ever like MC is (but I haven’t gotten to the point where I can say that for sure), but like. That isn’t why he’s the way he is. Man was out here protecting her from bullies, the thing where he’d buy two of everything for mc, think he said something like “I wanted to grow up to be the most loyal… well you know, I could be” LOYAL HUSBAND? But from the jump he’s been doing everything for her. It’s so interesting getting this background from all the memories and whatnot. Like he’s made it such a source of pride to take care of mc in every tiny way, and so when she says stuff about not needing him, or uh, I don’t remember what thing it was part of but she fixed some electronic and was like “damn that was easier than I thought, guess I gotta stop bugging you for every tiny little thing, I can just figure it out.” and he PANICS! Like no baby- that’s his comfort thing. No matter what else is going on, at least he can feel needed and wanted when you come playfully whining to him that you can’t find your favorite mug. He’s the walking advertisement for acts of service. Also one last thing.

Yall noticed how he put his hat on mc like right after the reunion? The only thing I could think of is what it means when you put on a guys cowboy hat. Like damn Caleb. She’s still in shock that you’re not dead. But get it ig.

[cypherscript]

Perpeptual

Some of Young justice are teleported/isekai'd during one of their battles to an underdeveloped world barely out of the iron age.

The planet confuses them, perpeptual night but the climate is warm and the flora abundant regardless of the missing sunlight. It has a single yellowy green moon that is stuck in orbit at the same point in the sky as the stars move around it.

Some of the locals have accepted them into their small village, their language is close to spanish; esperanto Wally says. Atleast they can somewhat communicate now. The people are unsettingly human with only slight changes to their body; lighter skin, pointed ears and glowing eyes.

They spend a little over two weeks helping the locals with their building some kind of stage for a festival. A large corridor of metal, spires of green crystal that Connor says make him woozy on top of his already low solar energy from the weeks stranded here and thick braided cord wound around the bases of the spires and inlayed into an intricate pattern winding their way to the corridor of metal.

The chief, Degelinta Stellumo, is happy to say the festival can begin early. When asked about the festival they cant translate much other than it's to thank their god for keeping them safe. About how thousands of years ago the day god Rox tried to consume their world, the night god Phan covered their world in protective night to protect it from Rox's anger.

The team is perplexed as the festivities begin, rhythmic chanting fills the air as one of their young men, that Megan recognizes as Stelo, walks forward dressed in furs and a iron crown upong their head. He steps into the corridor, the crystals glow brightening as he does so, almost alive in the perpeptual moonlight and the chanting getting faster and faster. Duh-duh-duh-duh-da-duh-duh-da-duh-da~.

There is a massive flare of light coming from the corridor, the crystals shatter and fly everywhere and the people cheer. Stelo steps, no floats from the now blackened corridor changed; his body glows in a pale white light, hair once black now pure white while his eyes are toxic green from his previously white and a cloak of stars floats behind him in an invisible wind.

He looks around confused, tired, until his eyes settle on the young superheroes going from Connor's house of El crest to Miss Martians skin to Robins stylized R.

Everyone is shocked as the being speaks to them in echoy but clear english, "You lot are a long ways from home, arent you?"

"Uhm, yes... sir," Tim hesitantly asks hesitantly unsure how to address this being? God? Entity?

"Right, well not to belittle your situation but we're holding up the festivities I'm certain the Sheo'lp people have been working on for some time. Let us celebrate a bit then we can talk about your situation."

"What are you," Megan blurts out, confused, "Stelo stepped into that corridor and his mind is gone and now theres just static."

"I suppose i can answer that easily enough. My name was/is Danny and I dont know what I am anymore. Once the festival ends, Stelo will return to himself. I promise."

The now named Danny stops floating and walks over to the tribespeople, stopping to hug and greet everyone by name and accepting food and drink happily. He cries as he eats the food and drink, thanking the people in esperanto repeatedly as he does so, this goes on for several hours before the partying starts to die down and Danny takes the group over to a dying bonfire.

"Right, I suppose you have questions but I would like some verification."

"Verification?"

"Yup, just need to know if you are who I think you are. It's been forever since I've been around earth but you look familiar.

He points at Miss Martian, "M'gann M'orzz?"

Pointing to kid flash, "Bart? No... Wally West."

Points to Robin, "Damian Wayne."

Points to Superboy, "and that would make you Jon Kent."

They partially confused, partial perturbed that this entity knows some of their names. Tim looks him square in the eyes, studying him, thinking about protocols for what to do when a godlike entity just namedrops your baby brother like its no big deal.

"Its just Robin as I am," Tim says, eyes never leaving Danny's.

"Shit right, apologies I forgot about superhero 101, no names. Its been a while since I had to worry about names, time is blurry these days to me. Now! What about those questions?"

"Can you get us home," Tim asks straight forwardedly. "We've been missing from earth for a few weeks now."

"Sure," he says nonchalantly, surprising the team, "Well yes and no. *I* can get you home but I know something who can but you need to Promise me that you'll follow my directions once you go home. Deal?" He holds out his hand to Tim, who looks at it before shaking it.

"So long as it doesnt endanger those i care about then Deal."

Danny nods before taking a deep breath and holding out a hand, a small crack running through the seam of reality as green light fills the area, from the crack a scroll flies through at high speeds as he catches it. "Hello old friend," he says tiredly, seeming to have dimmed greatly from that stunt.

"A scroll," Connor asks incredulously.

"A map," Danny corrects, "of everything. Take hold of each other before taking the Map, once you do take the map and say where you want to go." He looks at connor briefly, "it wont be a pleasant trip for Jon but it is nessesary for you to get home. Hopefully this trip should innoculate your biology against ecton radiation."

"Wait radiation," wally yelps.

"Its harmless to humans, mostly. Its the fastest way to get back to Earth, youre on the other side of the universe kids. Now, once you're back on earth tell the Map to return home and let go. So take the map, i need to go speak to the chief for a bit. Thank you for being here and letting me help." Danny groans as he slowly gets up and walks over to the chief's tent.

"Do you think he's okay," Megan asks the group as Tim looks the rolled up map over.

Connor watches as Danny leaves, "He's low on energy. Like how Kryptonians are without yellow sunlight."

"Unfortunately we cant focus that right now, grab hands its time to go." They each take the others hand as Tim holds up the map, "take us to the Justice Leagues Watchtower on Earth." The map unfurls as a blue energy grows over the group as they begin floating and the scroll begins to drag them across the sky, a similar crack as before opens before them and swallows them up and the next couple of seconds are filled with blurred visions of vast green voids, purple doors and massive beasts lurking in the distance, the eyes following the team as the fly past.

As quickly as it began its over as a final crack tosses them out at a fast speed into the Justice Leagues cafeteria, scattering on impact and flinging food everywhere as the security systems begin to screech as the team sigh in relief.

"We're home..."

***

"So you mean to tell us you've been trapped on another planet for all this time," Barry asks as the members of young justice sit at the conference table with the other adult members of the justice league.

"Yes sir."

Batman is pensive as hes thinking, "and this entity called you by your names?"

"Mostly, he thought Kon el and I were our younger counterparts."

"Hnn."

Kid Flash leans over to Megan and whispers, "that's bat for I dont like this." Barry cuffs him over the head.

"So should I return the map to Danny?"

"Did someone say my name," a chipper young voice says as he sticks his head through the table, familiar glowing green eyes and white hair who freezes at the sight of the map, "how do you have that? B What's going on?"

"The young justice team has been stranded on a distant planet for several weeks, they just got back with the help of this artifact. Do you recognise it?"

"Course I do, don't know how you have it because its supposed to be with FB in the zone."

"Wait a second," megan exclaims, suddenly recognizing the static she was getting from him "You're Danny! What happened to Stelo?"

"Who?" That takes the wind out of her sails, "oh... i get whats going on here. Classic time travel, don't tell me anything. If you have the map then FB or I gave it to you for a reason. You should send it back."

"Do as he says Robin," Batman says nodding in understanding.

Tim takes the map in his hand, "go back home, uh... map?" He drops it as it unfurls and zooms off through another green crack. "What's all this about?"

"Dunno," Danny says as he leans back as he floats through the table, "hasn't happened yet."

______________________________________________

Authors note:

Little more detail on what happened between the gods in the Sheo'lp's tale. Their sun was going supernova and Phantom in a last ditch effort to save the planet wrapped his being around the planet as the sun exploded around them. His ice core cooling the suns now explosive heat, his body giving them stars to look at and his core to give them light. Their planet is essentially a terrarium surrounded by a critical nuclear reactor. Due to time dialation from earth to there hes been holding back the sun for over a thousands of years by the point YJ arrive.

The festival is a recreation of the fenton portal that they offer one of their own for Phantom to overshadow to partake in their food and drink as thanks. Once he runs out of energy from the crystals his overshadow breaks and he returns to his duty leaving the host with memories to later become the chief and lead their people with their knowledge.

[thewritingfairy]

I'm back and God that chapter you just posted!

Lovely. *Chef kiss*

I was thinking of some things. One of them is how the Batfam sees the reader and her pain so unseriously Because of "oh she doesn't know real danger". but she does.

They are used to danger. Numb to it and trained to face it. Reader is not.

They have their safe spaces. Reader does not anymore.

They have each for support if they are in danger. Reader doesn't have that.

They can choose to go out to face the danger. She lives with the danger and the other comes and goes as he please, completely out of control.

If i was in reader situation with all these facts I'd be scared for my life. I'll probably have a woupen with me at all times because I can never know where the danger may come from. (Especially if Jason is close).

If I was in her place and found out that they are vigilants I'll be too disappointed and probably be more likely to keep woupens close. Outside or inside. I mean Gotham is not safe to begin with but I'll probably feel that if they saw me in danger in their vigilant suits they will not care.

I remember a TikTok that said that Bruce is the Villein and the biggest winner in Gotham. That person said that Bruce owns Arkema yet didn't upgrade it enough to keep the criminals in or even protect the workers more.

He build and by hospitals. He buys a lot of small businesses after they almost fall because of the crime rate and keeps the workers in them. These things seem like just good stuff but remember that they get more money to his pockets and boost his reputation.

All so he keeps going out at night to beat villains. He sees what they do.

This person also said that there's a comic where Bruce use his money and social power to help more then Batman and it make better and more positive changes.

If I was in Reader's place and found out his batman. Just a little surch on the internet and I'll connect these dots and start to see him as the worst man alive. Especially with how he treats me.

Also. Sorry for anything wrong. English is not my first language and I'm typing fast right now.

😶‍🌫️

Mention chapter: 05 - Tim doesn't understand you

Right??? They are so apathatic to their own trauma that they see (Name)'s trauma as something small. But I've read the comments on that chapter en responded to some, and I was genuinely like; wow people find this enraging, wow people feel sympathy for the Reader and wow people think this is angst. It has been making me re-think some family dynamics (I've not been neglected or anything, we just don't communicate that well in my family) and also my ability to recognize angst. I do hope its a bit lighter than chapter 04.1, because it was supposed to be a light-hearted chapter--

But that Tiktok, they are kinda right.

But I think that Bruce's privilege makes him unable to see how much harm his public persona does. If his public persona was someone that was up to changing Gotham, up to changing Gotham's legacy besides being a playboy or a smug prick.

(Name) has that same privilege but they are desperate to not be like Bruce, so they make sure to be socially aware.

[pearl-nouveau]

A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter three]

summary: After a sudden betrothal, you consider what a future in Winterfell may look like.

warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving durr), referenced baela x jace, slight timeline alterations

a/n: i feel weird writing smut even though i am an adult and i was writing UNGODLY things as a sixteen-year-old virgin half a decade ago. lmk if you enjoy because i don't have anything else written so if i'm going to keep writing i want to know that it's going to be read!

Cregan wasted no time trying to get me accustomed to Winterfell. As we entered the gates, he led me through with a protective hand on my back, steering me towards the stables first. He introduced me to his horse, Stormfighter, and I smiled at his excitement over the creature. It reminded me of my feelings about Vermithor. 

"You shall have as many horses as you wish," he told me, "perhaps a cream-colored one would pair well with mine. But I suppose you already have a dragon."

"Yes, Vermithor is a good form of transportation. I find horses rather slow now."

He laughed. "I shall build a dragonpit for Vermithor, if you wish it."

I smiled gently. He was so eager to please me. "He is much too big, I'm afraid. He will have to find a nest outside like Aemond's dragon, Vhagar."

"Ah. Not as easy as having a small dragon like your brother's, but perhaps more impressive."

"Vermithor's wingspan creates shadows over entire towns." I knew I was boasting, but Cregan's eyes widened with approval nevertheless. 

"Impressive indeed."

He took me within the palace walls, through warm hallways and into a communal dining hall where Stark bannermen laughed together merrily. One of them noticed Cregan enter, and the group regarded him with respectful My Lord's. I observed a few kitchen girls gossiping by the fire, unafraid of their Lord's presence. It pleased me to think that my future husband was a welcome presence to the people who worked beneath him. The tranquility of the scene put my mind at ease.

"I know Winterfell is less grand than you are used to," he admitted wearily, "but I will do anything to ensure your comfort here."

"You are Warden of the North and take care of your people with ease and no complaint," I turned to him, "there is no greater comfort to me than a Lord husband with a gentle heart."

"Lord husband?"

Jacaerys' voice startles you. He has crept up behind the two of you, and you are suddenly aware of the weight of Cregan's hand still on your lower back.

"Jace," I flushed, "we... I..." 

The words were lost in my mouth, but before me stood my brother, and words were not necessary. He smiled at me and I returned the grin knowing that he understood what had come to pass. He brought me in for a hug. 

"Congratulations," he told me, pulling back and kissing my head. He moved to Cregan and, to my surprise, brought him in for a hug as well. "Brother." he said happily. 

"Thank you, my prince." Cregan stood tall in front of him, pride radiating from him. "We will have a celebratory dinner tonight in the great hall."

"I shall send a raven to my mother." Jace said this with a smile and walked off, but I watched Cregan's expression darken. 

"What is it, qēlos?" I touched his face without thinking. He leaned into my fingertips.

"I realized I never asked your mother permission for your hand," he said, "I was so caught up in the thrill of being yours that..."

"It matters not, it was always my choice." I said firmly. I could tell it still bothered him. "What can I do to make it better?" He thought for a moment. 

"Allow me to come with you to Dragonstone, at the appropriate time. Let me meet the queen and pledge myself to her and you in person. And then..." he trailed off, as if afraid to overstep.

"Yes?"

"I hoped we could have a ceremony in the traditions of House Targaryen. Bind ourselves to one another by blood. If it pleases you."

For him to think of my house and my culture and not only his own made me awash with emotion. 

"It does please me." I whispered, placing a sweet kiss to his lips. He pulled back.

"What did that word mean?" My brows furrowed at his question. 

"What word?"

"The one you said earlier, qua, queh..." 

"Qēlos." I told him. "It means star." 

He hummed and repeated the word under his breath. 

I sought some alone time with Jace so we could talk before my betrothal to Cregan was announced at dinner. I found him in the library of Winterfell, flipping through an old history book. He looked up as I came in. 

"Sister," he greeted, "the Maester suggested I read up on the history of our houses' relationships with one another. That is, the Targaryens and the Starks."

"I hope it's good." 

He smiled. "Even if it wasn't, this marriage would surely do the trick." He stood up, removing his focus from the book below him. "Cregan is a powerful man, little dragon. In many ways. He commands a population that our ancestors have found very hard to control in the past. The North is loyal not to their Warden, but to their Lord Stark. His involvement could mean victory for mother."

I scoffed, suddenly annoyed. I was newly engaged and he could still only talk politics. "Well, what do you suggest I do? Suck his cock every time mother wants a thousand men? I won't be her pawn, I am going to be the Lady of Winterfell."

"I only mean that you now sit beside one of our most important fighters. I... I suppose I don't know what I meant telling you that. I just mean that it pleases me to see you with such an accomplished man. And... I like Cregan. He is good, and you deserve a good man."

"I did worry, at first, that he only asked for my hand because mother sought something from him. But he asked for my hand all those years ago, in a letter he sent me after his time in King's Landing."

"What? Why did you never respond?"

I flushed. "I never opened the letter."

Jace began to cackle. "You're a fool, sister." 

"I know." I snapped at him, slapping his shoulder. I sat down in a chair across the table from him, prompting him to sit as well. "I don't think I would have said yes if I had, though."

"Why not?"

I sighed. "I was not ready, and I knew not what he wanted from me."

"What does he want from you?" Jace was prodding, and I was letting it happen. I looked down at my hands.

"Everything. My heart and soul. I haven't been ready to give it. I have been too afraid that I would give it to the wrong person, or they would capture it and I would never be free again. But I feel free with him. He wants nothing from me, but to love me. And I know if I ask for my soul back, he will give it to me. But I want him to have it. I trust him."

A tear shot down my cheek, taking me by surprise. I didn't realize I had started crying. Jace was still smiling at me. I loved when he smiled, and I had the feeling it would only become more rare. So I returned it, and we were happy together for a moment. 

"When will you wed?" He asked curiously. 

"I have no idea. But Cregan has asked to visit mother in Dragonstone and have a ceremony of her house there."

"That will please her greatly."

I nodded. "Part of me wants it to be slow, so that I can ease into being married. But part of me cannot wait another day. Part of me just wants to be near him, close to him, always." I blushed, realizing what I was insinuating. But Jacaerys was nodding in agreement. 

"You know, you can wait as long as you want. You don't have to wait for the rest, not really."

"What?" I sputtered. He so casually and simply dismantled a norm that had been thrust at us our entire lives. More specifically, me. 

"No one really knows what happens behind closed doors." He shrugged.

"Oh hush, Jace, you only say that because you are a man." I bit.

His face reddened. "Very well, but you have never heard me presume to say that a woman's virtue is ruined alongside her maidenhood."

"Only old men still believe that."

"Exactly. Look, I know how much of a change this is from what you convinced yourself you always wanted. Take a few moons to settle in before you marry him. If anything happens naturally between you two in that period... so be it. You are to be married anyhow."

I was amused by his candor. "My brother, the wildling." I teased. "Tell me, was this enlightened opinion developed when our depraved uncle took you to a brothel when you were ten and three?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know very well I was a child deathly frightened of women, and bedding brothel wenches is different than making love to your betrothed."

It clicked for me. "You mean to tell me that you and Baela..."

He looked at his lap, equally flustered and self-satisfied. As much as it irked me to think of my brother in bed with someone, I found his admission heartwarming. After our grandsire's death, Dragonstone had been dreary and tense. We all walked the halls knowing that our days were numbered. To be unwilling to wait to be with the one you love when each day could be your last - it was romantic. 

"Jace," I grinned at him. I kicked him under the table. "How? I mean, when?"

"Before grandsire died," he admitted, "We just... got caught up in the moment. But I don't regret it. Life is too short."He reached out across the table and playfully pressed his knuckles against my cheek in a faux-punch. "If you are choosing to be free, be free. We may be called into battle on the morrow."

I left our conversation feeling validated in a way I hadn't realized I needed to be. It made me want only one thing: to find my husband-to-be.

I found Cregan in the highest room of a round tower to walk to dinner together. He answered the door and I could tell he had been working from the papers strewn upon his desk. The room was set up as an office, with a small straw mattress in the corner. I guessed that he found himself sleeping here when overwhelmed with work. 

"My beautiful wife," he greeted me, "almost. Come in." 

He brought me in, sitting me in a cushioned chair across from his desk and leaning against that to observe me. I spoke. "I wanted to discuss the wedding. I was not sure how long you wanted our engagement to last, and I wondered how soon before we are married." 

"I had not thought to discuss the details without you," he said, "you are, after all, meant to be in attendance as well."

His words always comforted me, and were always accompanied by a soft smile that I had only seen him give to me. "If it is alright, my Lord, I hoped to wait a few moons before we are wed. I suppose I have not yet come to terms with the reality of saying the vows." 

"We can wait as many moons as you like, little dove. Years, if it is your wish."

I smiled up at him. "You are so easy. You truly have no quarrels?"

"Not if it would go against my Lady's desires." I stood. Our chests were inches apart. I could feel his hot breath on my face.

"There is nothing that you cannot wait for?"

He shuddered. His jaw tightened as if he were in pain. Suddenly, the unbreakable man had a crack running through his thick skin. I ran my fingers up his furs and toyed with the clasp, which carried the Stark sigil. I unclipped it slowly and his cloak fell to the floor. 

"You don't have to wait to touch me," I told him. His eyes were burning holes through mine, darting every other breath to my lips. He bit his lip. 

"I will not sully you, my princess," he said in a low voice. "I am an honorable man."

"And I am an honorable woman," I said firmly. "Therefore we do not dishonor each other."

"Your arithmetic is very confusing, my love."

"But it is correct."

He kissed me with a heat that his kisses had never held before. It was as if now I had given him permission to want me, he could no longer pretend he didn't. His hands roamed up my back, unclasping my cloak and moving to tangle in my hair. Teeth clashed against each other in a dance that we were both leading. One of his large hands came to rest at the base of my throat, then ran lower through the column of my breasts and then he finally moved to cup one. I gasped at the feeling of his fingers kneading at my flesh, slowing down when grazing over my nipple. He stopped kissing me only to flip us and place me on the desk, slotting his hips between my legs. I squealed as he pressed them open, the fabric of my dress falling between my thighs, but he quickly bunched it and moved my dress up past my hips. He smiled at the sight of my smallclothes. 

"I'll have you naked in my bed soon," he grumbled, "but for now, I won't ruin the surprise. I will just give you a taste of the pleasure you shall have for the rest of your life."

His words made me whimper. He kneeled down in front of me, and a surge of embarrassment made me close my eyes as he grasped my undergarments and slid them down my legs. He must have noticed, because no more touches came after I was bare. I opened my eyes to his gaze. 

"I want you to watch me please you," he said gently, more a request than a command. He kissed the inside of my thigh. My hip bone. Slowly, he grew closer to my center, keeping eye contact with me until his mouth connected with my core. 

Oh. 

So this was why people could not wait until after their marriage vows. 

I gasped so loudly that he stopped for a moment until I gently grasped his hair and guided him back to where he was. I could feel him smiling down there and I almost laughed with joy. His tongue danced beautiful choreography against my cunt, expertly drawing pleasure from my body in a way I could never have imagined.

"Cregan... fuck, oh, yes," I could no longer control words from spilling from my mouth. He slowly stroked a finger at my entrance, looking back up at me to ask for permission as he gently prodded at my hole. I nodded and then moaned as his finger intruded me, and if I wasn't mistaken I could have sworn I heard him let out a moan as if it were his own cock that had penetrated me. 

He continued to eat me like a starved man and with the addition of his finger slowly curling inside of me, I knew that something was about to explode within me. My stomach was tightening, my legs shaking and trying to clamp shut against Cregan's head. He fought against them with ease, pressing me further open and leaning into his meal, lapping it up like a wolf feasting on prey. He could feel my peak approaching and his tongue began to focus on my pearl, suckling and kissing the bud with tender care. 

It was too much. My moans had morphed into screams of pleasure, and my hands were yanking at his hair so hard I had no idea how he wasn't hurt. With a few more well-placed licks against my pussy, I could feel myself at the edge.

"Cregan..." I could barely breathe, barely speak. "I'm-I'm-so, so close," I keened. 

"You're perfect," he mumbled against me, "can't believe this is all mine." He dove back in on a mission and I began to fall.

"Oh, oh, yes..." I could only sigh as the tension snapped and a jolt ran through my body. It was electric, and Cregan held my body tightly as it shuddered. He stood slowly, caressing my legs as he did, and removing a handkerchief from his pocket, which he gently ran through my folds. I gasped, sensitive from my orgasm, grasping at his forearm. He only hushed me and kissed my brow. He moved my dress back down to protect my modesty, and picked my undergarments off the floor. 

"I'll keep these as a reminder of the first of many times I ate my wife's cunt," he said, shoving them into his pocket. He picked me up from the desk and set me down in front of him. "How was that? Are you alright?"

I put my arms around his neck. "I have literally never been better."

“I am glad.” He said. He kissed me slowly, his arms absentmindedly running across every plane of my back, mapping the new terrain. "You are..." He looked at me the way people usually looked at me before calling me beautiful. But he said nothing. He only placed a peck on my forehead and fetched our cloaks from the floor, reclasping mine first and then his own.

"I am what?" I asked, now curious.

Cregan shrugged, leading me towards the door. "There isn't a word to describe it."

The silent walk that we took to the great hall was not awkward, but pensive. I liked the feeling of my arm wrapped around his underneath the cloaks. He always pulled me to his side, so he could feel the fabric of our clothes brushing together as we walked. Every few steps I could see him look down at me out of my peripheral vision. At one such time, I caught his gaze and we smiled at each other. He licked his lips slightly, and it reminded me that those same lips had so recently between my legs, and I blushed, my gaze falling to my feet.

"Thinking of something, dove?" He smirked. 

"Just those lips of yours," I reached up and brushed his bottom one with my fingertip. "You've been blessed with a talented mouth."

"I am at your service, forever." He said seriously.

Forever. It seemed an easy enough thing to imagine with Cregan. He felt safe, he was devoted to me. He said he loved me. Could it be that easy? Just to give in to his love? It was tempting, but I sought clarity. What made him love, and why had he found it with me? What if I suddenly stopped doing the thing he loved? The darkest part of my heart told me that as we aged and my beauty faded, his interest in me would falter. 

"Now you surely aren't thinking of me between your legs," he observed, "because you are frowning."

"Just wondering."

"About?"

I sighed. "Do you believe that love fades?"

"Sometimes." He said. His definitive answer stumped me and I could feel a flare of anger arise from it.

"Well, then," I hummed passive-aggressively. It was unbecoming, I knew, especially since I was trying to ascertain that he would not grow tired of my antics and regret our union. Instead of arguing, he chuckled. 

"Why do you speak in riddles? Ask me what I know you have been wondering. I may be a dull Northerner but I am not dimwitted." 

Even in humbling me he was gentle, his voice laced with amusement, as if any complaint I may have could be fixed as simply as commanding him. 

"Why do you love me? I... I am afraid that whatever it is will fade, and you will grow tired of me. And..."

"And?"

"Forgive me."

"What?"

I felt hot tears behind my eyes but I clenched my teeth until they retreated. "Will I forever be your second wife? Not the mother of your children, either, only a... replacement? I'm sorry, my Lord, I should not target your late wife with my own insecurities."

He had stopped us in the hallway, boxing me against the wall and listening intently. Cregan drank every word I said up like honey. After I finished, his palm found my face and I saw the emotions swimming behind his eyes. I regretted terribly the possibility that I may have reopened past wounds.

"I believe love can fade sometimes, in the way that it has for my late wife." He sighed. "Her name was Arra. We were friends in childhood. When my parents suggested our union, her familiarity comforted me. I think that is what I loved about her. She was like home, like being a boy again. But I am no longer a boy." He took my hands. "I will miss Arra until the day I die because she was my friend and bore me a babe. But I did not choose her, and you have been my only thought since the moment I met you. In years of not hearing from you, not knowing if you would ever allow me to become close to you, I still loved you. Every night memories of your wit and bravery haunted me. Fuck, girl, you ruined me for any other woman. The thought of anyone else, for all those moons, was unthinkable. You could not fade from my heart if I tried to pluck you out with a knife."

I hadn't anything to say. 

So I said, "I love you."

[celaenaeiln]

Something fanon gets wrong

Dick Grayson is genuinely one of the greatest fighters in all of DC.

I know people have trouble believing this for some reason but a man who has defeated every single one of his enemies, other people’s enemies, and has consistently come out on top should have his abilities talked about a bit more because they’re amazing.

Let's start small to big. Firstly Donna talks about Nightwing's abilities.

When I read this I was confused by what she meant. Prowess means skill or expertise and that makes sense but Dick has a lot of power behind him though...

And then I realized she meant metaphysical power.

Dick isn't a magician. He can't run at supersonic speeds, throw buildings, speak to animals, communicate with the dark, fly above the clouds, bounce bullets off his chest (Oh, wait. He can do it off his ass instead never mind), turn into animals, or other amazing abilities. But his skill is so high that he is easily able to keep up with people who can.

M'gann, the white martian with extraordinary capabilities, tells Dick, "You are just a human, with no superpowers, yet you have consistently excelled throughout your career, despite being surrounded by godlike beings."

This is incredible.

We see Dick leading teams of superheroes and metas all the time and we take it for granted but we never acknowledge the immense power and skill he must have for him to be able to do this.

Repeatedly. Time after time. He outsmarts both his human allies and outfights his meta ones.

One of Dick’s greatest OP moments is when he takes down the entire Titans team -Gar, Raven, Donna, and Jason too when he hung around with them- single handedly. And when Jason put a gun to the back of his head in supposed victory, Dick opened his hand to let the golden bullets fall, gleaming in the light with the coldest line, “with these bullets?”

We all know how amazing Bruce is, but Dick is on Bruce's level.

No?

Okay, here's the evidence.

Dick has fought Azael in a sword fight to a standstill when Azael has beaten Bruce separately and Tim and Jason combined.

He has defeated Ra's in a sword fight and Ra's is one of the greatest swordsmen.

Sometimes he doesn't even need a sword to defeat a skilled swordsman.

He's a League of Assassins member and we all know that anyone from the League of Assassins is never just good. They're excellent. The entire fight Dick is looking for Blockbuster and he's so capable and good at fighting the entire scene was like watching Thanos flick Captain America away vibes. He's not even looking at him when he smashes his foot into Shrike's face!

Most importantly, he has defeated Deathstroke

The greatest thing about Dick is he is able to defeat Slade at the peak of Slade's abilities. Slade doesn't need to be weakened for Dick to win.

Here's where people has some hesitance accepting Dick's abilities.

"Bruce has defeated Slade but Dick has never been able to!"

He literally has in Dark Crisis but I'll give you the lead up.

Dick can easily disarm Slade.

He can predict Slade's moves ahead of time and properly counteract them.

He can go toe to toe with him and in one comic, they dance down a hallway, fighting, neither able to get the upper hand. The mercenary meta, considered by the US Government to be 1 of 2 greatest assassins (the other being Katana) isn't able to pin down and defeat a 20 year old despite his enhancements.

I left out the scene where Dick twisting Deathstroke's arm and smashing his face into a bedroom mirror despite being complete weaponless and in his civilian identity. No protection and no support. But it's another example of how Dick's poweress is much greater than people expect of him.

Of course there are panels where Dick has been defeated by Slade but Dick isn't 17/18 anymore. He isn't learning to fight without Batman hovering over his side.

Also there is a panel everyone references to when talking about Nigthwing losing to Deathstroke. This one.

sure. okay. whatever. BUT WHY WON'T YOU SHOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT COWARDS?!?

THEY DANCE-FIGHT LIKE THEY'RE ENEMIES IN A BALLROOM ON OPPOSING SIDES BUT CAN'T AFFORD TO LET ANYONE FIND OUT.

THIS IS SOME HIGH LEVEL JAMES BOND-RED NOTICE-MISSION IMPOSSIBLE- TYPE SHIT.

"Close the hold, you morons! Close the--Guuk!"

That's Slade talking by the way. To his allies. Who do you think made him "GUUK!"?

And here they were evenly matched.

But Slade had to pull out bombs he had been saving for when other people came in order to defeat dICK AND HE STILL LOST BECAUSE DICK BESTED HIM.

Yup. Dick is just that good.

Nightwing defeated Bane

Before you go into saying something like "it was a holographic construction." What the fuck difference does that make? Does a holographic construction alter the strength used by the enemy, change their fighting style, phase through when fighting, act dumber than the real deal? No, right? The fact is Dick broke Bane's back the exact same manner that Bane broke Batman's. All those scenes of Bane punching Nightwing around? Let me remind you that the guy snuck up on Dick. The second time Dick underestimated Bane's powers before getting ready to put in real effort before Batman interfered to take Bane for himself.

All those amazing scenes of him defeating enemies that we've scoffed at recently? They're just a continuation of what already is written. It's not new or unbelievable, it's expected.

Here's my final point. Dick has defeated all of the Justice League's enemies in one go.

This is Batman/Superman comic where Kara gets infected so Dick as Batman sends her to the medbay while he tears down the Watchtower to save her. As in every single defense mechanism the Watchtower has, he demolishes it with his pure skill and abilities. Furthermore, the Watchtower defenses were enhanced by cyborg Superman to be lethal. To kill on sight.

Just. Phenomenal.

He did it! He defeated all of them and made it to the electronic controls he was aiming for.

Another thing I want to point is Dick's strength is greater than what people assume it to be.

He's the world's greatest acrobrat and has a build fitting of that but the strength he packs in his body is equal to that of a meta. Maybe it's because of how he only fights with metas and has teammates that are all metas but he has raised his striking power to equal that.

He shatters cyborg superman in one blow.

He can handle blows from meta humans in a way most others can't which suggests to me that he must've done some kind of training or have maybe increased pain tolerance or have the ability to backseat the pain so it won't affect his fighting. How many can take a hit and rise up the next second?

He's not metahuman. Batman must've done several tests because he also was amazed by robin Dick's poweress lol but really Dick is just extraordinary. Give him any enemy and he will garaunteed defeat them without using cheap tricks or surprise moves which is why he is one of the greatest. The only time people have gotten an upperhand on him is when he has been emotionally weakened. Emotionally. Imagine the absolute monster he would be if he controlled his emotions like Batman.

But I would never want him to though because his emotions are the reason why he's the light of DC.